#and also the cloth on his arm being folded just wrong fuck. ok maybe if i colour this later ever ill fix those..

[gunstellations]

to love and be loved

#haikaveh #my art #sorry the color value and quality is so bad it started out as a random little doodle on the corner of my canvas then i got attached.. #im obsessed with their canon relationship and absolutely adore the dynamics and also i want to see them in a loving marriage together!! #i should really put more effort into making my art look appealing instead of drawing raw emotion in shitty quality and calling it a day... #genshin impact #alhaitham #kaveh #i tried my best to show it but kaveh is smiling i hope its legible...legible?? seeable? the art form of readable #wait i can just say readable #is that a word.. #some parts of this sketch is bothering me so much like some of alhaithams hair #and bits of the scarf especialy but im learning to let things go.... #and also the cloth on his arm being folded just wrong fuck. ok maybe if i colour this later ever ill fix those.. #sorry abt the rant as always have a great day/night and i love you

[stitchthesewords]

17, for mumscarian

"Ok, well...fuck," Mumbo said, scrubbing at his face as he looked around the grey expanse of Fate's domain. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this now?"

"If it's all the same to you, I would rather deal with this right now over...Grian," Scar said, gathering up impossible amounts of thread in his large hands. His form was barely determinate against the grey of his domain, just slightly more static-y. "And if I'm going to tell Grian about - this - I want this place to be a little more welcoming to lower gods. Cozy."

Mumbo took a deep breath he didn't need. He was far more visible, a form not quite human made up of the ink black of most voids. A swipe of his hand and the domain began to take shape. Not quite what a human would call cozy, but easier on the eyes. It was Mumbo's best attempt at one at least - this domain didn't quite bend under his fingers like the Overworld did, so the hardwood floors looked a little wrong, and the room stretched infinitely in all directions. Two chairs appeared, and into Scar's lap came a similarly infinite piece of cloth for him to begin stitching the threads into.

"Do you think he'll like it? Oh - shoot, we don't know what his true form looks like yet," Scar said. His 6 eyes shut and he leaned his head back, as if searching. a soft 'oh' left his lips and he freed a thread from his bundle. Mumbo recognized it, if only because when Scar unveiled it he could actually see it and see how it wove into their own threads. "He's small."

"...How small is small?" Mumbo asked, looking around in a circle trying to determine how best to fit someone small into their scale of the world.

"About the size of a parrot compared to a human. Here," Scar folded the two ends of the infinite thread together and passed it to Mumbo. The colors swirled and Mumbo took it in his hands, seeing the vision of Grian Scar was holding out for him. And oh, he was small. Maybe a bit larger than a parrot compared to Mumbo, but small. But Mumbo was slightly smaller than Scar. He was more humanoid than either of them, too, though he also appeared to be 40% wings and another 10% eyes. It was interesting. Mumbo and Scar's forms didn't have that much detail to them. Maybe they should change that - they could shape themselves, after all. He'd simply never felt a reason to do so.

"Do you think he'd perch here as much as he does back home? Would it be rude to put a perch in here?" Scar asked, taking the thread back and setting it aside. Multiple threads were being woven into and out of the fabric, so many that it was impossible to really see what Scar was doing. Yet Fate knew what it was doing. Mumbo turned his attention away from it, the sight making his head feel ill, and instead smiled at Scar.

"You don't even know how he'll react yet. But...I think it's cute that you're thinking of stuff like that already," Mumbo said, leaning on his arm on the chair. Scar looked up at him while simultaneously looking at the fabric in his hands.

"I need to. This will be his domain too. Once we...solve that little problem of Watchers not being compatible," he said.

Mumbo chuckled and nodded, leaning comfortably into his new seat. "I think it'll be fine, scar," he said.

#Asks #Anonymous #Mumscarian #Hermitshipping #Trafficshipping #this one is also both so #Catch-All AUs #this au still needs a tag

[ohmysparkle]

🎀 Plush Baby 🎀

[Pairing] Minho (Stray Kids) x chubby Reader

[Genre] Smut

[Word Count] 4.4K

[Warnings] NSFW, smut, body insecurities

[NSFW Content] Vanilla sex, raw sex, soft soft soft (male) domination, PIV, oral (fem. receiving), body worship.

[Note] This piece was originally posted on my old account as a request. It has been edited and rewritten.

Also, I like my girls how I like my cats: soft, purring, jiggly. Just sleeping all day, occasionally meowing, being cute.

[Edit - Note 2] I remember the original request asking for a chubby reader, and my reply was that I hoped that all of my writing as inclusive enough that any reader could feel themselves represented in that scenario. I know we all have drastically different physical characteristics - but we are all beautiful. The tiny, fit little waist on one girl is as beautiful and sensual as the soft, plush and pillowy belly of another. We can all be recognized as beautiful and sexy and desired - and we should feel that way. But I wrote (and rewrote) this request with extra care because I wanted to shower some love on all chubby, full figured, plus, fat, curvy readers and I hope I do some justice to your beautiful bodies. 💕

🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀

You’re laying on his bed, in nothing but a set of plain undies. The white panties are so thin he feels he can almost make out the delicate folds that decorate your vulva, and if you only spread them a little further he’d be so proud if he saw a little wet and sticky stain on them, making them stick to your skin. Your hands are gripping each other, as you try to sink yourself onto the bed, somehow shielding yourself in your shyness, but all it does is force your arms to push your breasts together. He sighs in delight as he takes in your body, every curve, every soft fold and pocket of flesh, every supple crest.

A soft and warm, plush goddess before his eyes, on his bed, just at his fingertips…

He’s been dreaming of the day he’d be able to see you like this, and he’s been coaxing you day by day; making sure you’re comfortable with him, letting you know he thinks you’re beautiful, assuring you that any intimacy with him would be about your pleasure and his efforts to lay all his love on you.

His kisses were always more than just kisses, he’d do everything to reassure you, let you know how he felt. Every profession of how beautiful he found you was deep and genuine - and sometimes he felt like he was healing a precious little wounded animal that had been scarred by the cruel words of past lovers.

You’ve been shy, and insecure. He understands, but it breaks his heart a little because he just wants you to bask in confidence and find yourself as beautiful as he does. If only you could see yourself with his eyes, he thinks…

If only you could understand the desire he feels… from the moment he saw you. Your cute rounded cheeks, expressive and squishy. The beautiful way your thighs would move as you walked, his eyes traveling up whatever skirt you wore, thinking about the plush and bouncy bum underneath. How your breasts spilled so beautiful when you moved around, especially when you lay on your back and your cleavage would become so accentuated in any top you wore. The softness at your waist, supple and warm… he couldn’t resist pinching at a little pocket of fat in your back or your hip whenever he hugged you, despite you hating it at first, thinking he was teasing you.

But he wasn’t… he wouldn’t tease you in that way. He’s only tease you in a loving and playful manner. If only you could understand how pretty you were in his eyes.

It has taken time, for him to chip away at your walls. Sometimes he got carried away in you, wanting to use all of his tricks to have you wet and weakened to his whim, because the thought of touching, kissing, fucking you was too much. He’d impatiently shiver at the thought alone.

But it wasn’t just about what he wanted - because he wouldn’t want it if you didn’t, and he wouldn’t enjoy it unless you did twice as much. He could see something, hesitation, or fear perhaps, always lingering behind your eyes. He knows how you sometimes shielded those insecurities with smiles, but your body would freeze and tense…

So many things you needed time to heal. Every glance from a stranger toward him and you would have you second guessing, or when a girl would try to flirt with him you’d be completely dejected. And he’s kiss it all away, drown your thoughts out with soft words. Again and again, no matter how many times. It would tire anyone out.

He’s been so patient, he’s always patient for you. Gladly, happily patient. He knows when to let you take the lead and set the pace, or when you need him to encourage you and guide you. And now, to finally have you here on his bed, body laying beneath his… well, the months long effort has borne fruits.

He sits beside you, looking down at you, lost in admiration. He’s eating you up with his eyes, staring down at every curve and dip along your body. You don’t know if it’s good or bad, and your hands are bunched up, tense against your chest as your chin rests over them. He worries you’re feeling doubtful, but for a moment his eyes are lost in your figure and he doesn’t notice. From some angles, his eyes seem so sharp and intimidating, but the feeling in them is tender and comforting, just like the look of worry he casts you once he notices your tension.

Minho gently takes your hands in his, separating their tight grip and kiss omg the knuckles on each one before guiding each area to rest at your side.

“Just relax, baby girl…” he hushes. His voice… you feel it make you shiver, running deep within you. It’s deep, soothing, almost like a purr - but he’s so much less harmless than those kitties he loves… It’s a mix between being stalked by a predator, making you feel small and fearful, and being comforted and lulled by a strong presence that blankets you.

You try relax, and tense little huffs of breath leave you. He knows you’re having a hard time so he decides to reassure you one last time before asking if you want to continue.

“Baby girl…” he whispers after leaning closer to you, clicking his tongue, the tip of his nose almost brushing your temple, “you’re beautiful, I adore you, and I think everything about you is beautiful. I’m going to treat you like a princess and I promise I’ll make you feel good, but we won’t do that if you’re not comfortable first, ok?”

You gulp and nod, and the next deep breath you take does dissolve tension a bit. Your mind is made up, you’re absolutely sure, but still you feel the slightest bit afraid to say so… Minho is so, so, perfect, and protective and doting. You logically know he won’t do anything wrong, that he’d never hurt you - so why are you so terrified of all of this?

“I want to. Just… slowly, ok?” You finally say, and he smiles at you with pride - pride in you for being comfortable with the prospect of intimacy, and your trust in him. Pride in himself knowing he’s made you comfortable… it makes you smile too.

Minho begins as he had always dreamed of doing with you. His fingers dance with anticipation before he dares dip them against your flesh. He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before commencing to roam his hands all over your body.

He gently grips the flesh of your thighs and hips, while leaning down to kiss the tops of your breasts as the spill out from the cups of your bra. You begin to sigh and sink in relaxation. He lets his palms lightly glide over the skin, feeling so soft and powdery, your hairs there velvety, peach-like…

“So beautiful baby, so soft, you feel perfect…” he says with a pinching squeeze of the mound of flesh at your waist that pokes out from the waistband of your underwear. It makes you whine a little bit he rubs it with the heat in his palm to soothe the sting. It’s with these little pains, the pinches, the digging of his fingers into your mounds of plumpness, and then the soft massages and tender touches, that he gets you to melt.

Your legs seem to naturally spread for him, and now his free hand roams between the softness of your inner thighs. Now, that by far, was the tenderest thing he had ever touched, and to think he’d soon be burying himself within them… He kneads them, enjoying the jiggly feeling of them in his hands and how perfectly his finger dug into the almost powdery flesh. So, so soft. Handfuls of supple, warm and jiggly fat for him to feel and play with. He looks at how he moves your flesh about, how voluptuous and sensual it all looks…

You deserve a kiss there, he thinks. You can’t deny that he’s relaxed you to such a point that your body melds in accordance to his manipulation. Your legs spread and he grunts a bit at the warmth that radiates off of you and the slight scent of your arousal through your panties. He digs his face into one of your thighs, nudging it, until he latches his lips on to a particularly soft nook of flesh and sucks. The hiss that leaves you makes his cock twitch, and he’s in awe at how well your thigh mends against his mouth as he sucks, and how sweet your skin tastes when he runs his tongue over it.

How is it possible that this plush, voluptuous angel belongs to him? He is drunk on the kisses and sucks and licks that he gives to that one thigh, and when you begin to shake him off one leg, he moves on to the other. He wants to keep kissing, but he also just wants to melt into you, your pillowy figure being too perfect for him.

At some point, his hands begin to travel back upwards, and he hooks his fingers under your high waisted underwear to slip them down to your hips, leaving your cunt clothed but exposing your tummy. Minho begins to grope at the flesh there, massaging and munching it together, pressing his hands into every inch of your skin, and he’s looking down at you.

It’s ticklish, or maybe you feel it tickles because you’re nervous, or because that’s a part of yourself you’ve always thought should be covered or avoided, left completely unacknowledged despite its exposure. Yet Minho… his eyes, the way he touched you; it all showed genuine love and arousal.

You had feared this moment for so long, but you didn’t feel scared now. Not with the way he was looking at you and touching you, not with the way he was making you feel; beautiful, sexy, attractive. It’s what you were, and he felt that way too. He grabs at your waist, digging his hands roughly into the mounds in your abdomen and he presses his entire body against you. Slowly, Minho leans down for a kiss to your pretty lips as he grinds against one of your thighs.

“My sweet girl… please tell me you want us to keep going… please.” He begs.

“Yes.” Is all you can reply after rewarding his mouth with your whimpers.

Minho leans back on his thighs as he tore his shirt off, providing you with the sight of his defined torso. Chiseled, sharp, masculine - not a line of softness in him. The two of you are exact opposites and it makes it all the better for how your two figures complement the touch and feeling of the other. He dives back in, kissing along your soft belly, up towards your bra and between your breast, until finally he’s back at your mouth. His body lays on you, and while you feel firm and detailed flesh, he relishes in the plushness of your body and how it seems to embrace him. He rubs his own pecs over the lace of your bra, stimulating his pretty brown nipples, and he groans into your mouth. Your response is to roll your hips upward, against the erection that’s growing inside of his sweatpants.

“Minho, I want you - anything, I can’t wait anymore…” you plead while pushing him off. You begin to take your bra off, and he removes his pants and briefs in one go, revealing his hardening cock under a tuft of trimmed dark hair. You’re desperate now, and confident too, and you lay back to peel your own underwear off.

Fuck, the way you cunt is nestled between your plump thighs and soft abdomen, your lips peaking from your protruding vulva. His mouth is watering, and despite his reservations about being gentle and not startling you, he’s quick to grab your ankles and press your legs apart so he can burry is face in your pussy. He doesn’t have an ounce of control left because the sight of you has made him but a stupid animal.

He presses a firm kiss to your musky and moistened lips, inhaling sharply at that scent he’s sure would drive any man to the point of insanity. They’re just slightly tacky and they stick to his lips in the most pleasant way until the fluids of your arousal start to spread about and mix with his saliva, making everything glide more easily. He’s moaning and grunting against you and it makes you feel so aroused that you feel yourself pulsating within. He licks your lips, lathering them up with his saliva, he sucks at your clit.

Long strokes of his tongue run over your labia, his hands massage the outer sides of your vulva too, until he uses them to slightly spread your pussy, so his tongue more easily glides between your lips. The workings of his hand, massaging you around your vulva leaves you in awe to how sensitive every part of you was - something you likely wouldn’t have discovered without an expert and generous lover like Minho.

And then it all centers at the little sucks and nibs to your lips that tease you, and the way he stimulates your clitoris with his muscle to make your entire body jolt.

A finger expertly slips its way inside, and he keeps his hand facing downward, so the underside of his finger stimulates a different part of your walls that you wouldn’t even think of touching on your own. He twists them about, letting the little joints in his fingers circle every part of your cunt, exploring and pleasing everything. He begins to finger you with determination and it’s just not enough. You need more. Still, his mouth on your mound feels so good, and he tears away to slobber all over your vulva and leave your lips soaked and glistening. You can feel his drool dripping between your thighs and down your slit toward your ass.. Never had a man done this to you like this, and Minho had no restraint, he was proudly pleasing you with his mouth, devouring you like an animal, shamelessly soiling you with a mix of your fluids and his own spit.

“Minho!” You whine, and he knows what it means. Fuck, he nearly wants to bite into you until your screaming and squirting…

He pulls you by your hips and raises your thighs back, so that the lower part of you cunt is slightly more exposed. With his palms supporting your thighs, his thumbs inch toward your labia to spread you open. You hold your legs up by your ankles to make it easier for him, but you almost kick them away when you feel his tongue prod at your hole.

He presses his face harder and harder against your fleshy cunt, making sure his tongue gets in as deep as possible. He finds you’re full of slick and thick nectar that tastes heavenly and filthy on his tongue, and he juggles the muscle in his mouth as best as he can within your hole. You whine and cry and clench but it’s not far enough inside, not even with his finger rubbing at your clit so fiercely.

If only he could go deeper. This isn’t enough for him either.

“I need to be in you now doll, please.” He was getting ready, expecting your answer to be a yes.

“Damn it - yes!” You whine, feeling desperate all over with a sensation you couldn’t shake that you felt made you churn with uneasiness. You needed him to fill you, and it was causing near hysteria.

Minho doesn’t care about delicacy now. He slips his cock in and slams it. You’re wet enough, horny enough, and damn it but your swollen and wet pussy looks so damn fuckable that he knows its aching for his cock. You cry in agony and ecstasy, it stings and burns at a certain point where his fingers did not reach you before, but it also feels so fucking good because his fat and solid cock hits the right spots inside of you in the first thrust.

“Fuck…” you cry, trying to force your thighs together in discomfort. He hushes you and lowers himself to your face, resting his weight on his elbows and resting his abdomen against your supple tummy, his hips force your legs open still.

“Sorry, my baby girl,” he says kissing your face, panting in his own despair, “I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t thinking…” as he whines your arms wrap around him and your legs begin to hook onto his. You feel like your melting against him and he against you, and it causes you to roll your hips back and forth against his, slowly, and with your bodies firmly pressed together.

You’d make it seem like it hurt even more just to have him dote on you and treat you so preciously. It made something inside of you swoon to think that you’re almost delicate in his embrace, how the very thing that brings you pleasure can also hurt because the entire act is so vulnerating.

You whine at the feeling, and he takes the cue to roll against you. You feel his pelvis rub against your clit, his bush tickling at your bare cunt. The stroke and glide of him inside of your sends shivers throughout you, and you can feel him making contact with every ridge and grove of your wet cavern. Still, a little stretch lingers because that massive cock of his is incomparable to anything that’s been inside of you before.

The pain is good, it makes everything sharper. It’s like the little sting of a blade, and the pleasure like a stream of water to soothe it. You’re drunk in it, completely overwhelmed and mindless. The only thing tethering you to the earth itself is the feeling of his body in your arms, you clinging to him, and him clinging onto you.

He’s kissing all over your face, and when he needs to catch his breath he rests his forehead against yours. Your grasping desperately to scratch his back, shoulders and biceps, and finally you pull at his hair.

You feel the need for more of him, more harshly, you whine more desperately and you tense after each breath, he can tell. He pulls back, tearing your hands from his scalp and he pulls out of you, making you twitch and clench at the emptiness he’s suddenly left behind and you audibly weep at the sensation.

“Minho!” You cry as you raise yourself on your arms to see him glistening with sweat, and his proud cock drenched with globs of your fluids.

“Not yet, baby girl… Let me, just relax.” Trust me, he seems to say.

You’re whining and pressing your legs together but he tears them open by the knees and blows against your clit. It felt awful, driving your desperation further, making you want more and more, which he was cruelly denying you. You want to cry, it seems like the only outlet for such an onslaught of unnamable emotions.

The sight of a tear trailing down your damp and pretty face is enough to make him coo… his sensitive, pretty girl, so precious…

“I want to fuck you another way now, baby, it’ll be so good…” He growls, voice deep, but still desperate, still seeking permission. You know you’ll say yes. “Get on all fours, doll.”

You obey, shyly. His strong arms don’t leave you, guiding you, making sure you are in the right position. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, and you can feel him prowling behind you, but his warmth still comforts and envelops you. You arch your back as best as you can to look good and he appreciates it - a lot.

He grabs each cheek of your ass, groping the flesh to expose your sopping cunt. He groans at the sight, like an animal. Your wet and slick with sweat all over, glistening for him, letting his hands slide all over your ass and back. With a quick smack to your ass he alerts you, You yelp. And once more, the sting is soothed by a kiss, a tender hand kneading that spot he just abused.

He travels up your spine, his body brushing against yours, and you can feel his hands at your shoulders, his breath on your neck. With a soft kiss, he presses you down and soon he pushes you onto the mattress, your hips still held up by your legs.

You can feel him groping you all over, leaving searing and wet kisses along your spine. You’re desperate and your hips wiggle in desperation.

“Minho….”

“Not long now, baby doll. I promise.” He says tenderly.

He keeps one hand at your hip as he pumps himself, and guides his head back between your folds, whimpering loudly, so unlike how he has kept his demeanor. How is it possible for such a sensation to exist? That perfect moment where your soft lips suck the head of his cock and guide them into your tightening walls, so wet and comforting, stimulating every inch of him.

He can’t help himself, again, lost in you. He begins to buck his hips, slapping the skin of your ass with his pelvis each time, making you cry into the mattress. You soon feel him still and he reaches down to bunch up your hair and pulls you back, snapping his hips into you once more.

His touches are so forceful, the veins and muscles in his arms tightening as he manhandles you. But it’s the languid kisses that let you know that the baseline of it all is render, and again, they wash away and pain, any sting.

The discomfort makes your desperation grow, the restlessness makes the sensation of his cock ever better within your sensitive cunt. The harshness mixed with the tenderness is perfect, and you feel like you want more of it.

He pulls you back all the way so your back is pressed against his, chest both of you sitting and supporting your bodies on your legs. Your head is angled back so your neck is exposed to him as he thrusts up into you, and his eyes wander to your bouncing breasts. He fucks you harder so the bounce and jiggle of your tits becomes even more erratic, and he doesn’t know where his hands should stay.

He slaps his hand against one of them, pinching your nipple - it makes you scream in pleasure. The other digs into your tummy, scratching at the soft skin there, latching onto any mound he can find.

It doesn’t take long now. You cum, and it’s lasts a while as he keeps going inside of you, he fucks into you until his own orgasm arrives, and draws your pleasure out until the point that your walls spasm around him again, trapping his cock against your leaking orifice. He wraps his arms around you and you lean against him, head thrown back to lean on his shoulder and he buries his face in your neck. You stay there, with only the heaving of your breaths moving your bodies as you both recuperate from the highs.

Slowly, he roams his hands all over your front, soothing you and giving reassuring squeezes, everywhere - your thighs, tummy, breasts, sides, waist. He is all over your body.

Minho slightly moves to guide you both to lay in your sides but the lightest pull of his cock makes you hiss in sensitivity. He tenses at the noise, and is all the more gentle as he lays you both down.

He kisses your shoulder, brushes your hair back with his fingers, while his other arm still circles beneath your soft waist.

“Perfect…” he hums into your ear, and you can’t help but break a smile because you know he’s referring to you.

You’re both filthy, sweaty, dirty, but it’s perfect. He pulls a blanket from his side to cover the two of you, as he pets you, and occasionally lets out a giddy giggle.

“What’s funny?” you question once you feel like you’ve returned to your body.

“Nothing!” He giggles again. “I’m just happy?”

“Hmm…” You hum contently.

“I’m happy you’re happy, I’m happy we made each other happy.” He adds while lightly rocking you, sighing against your body and how perfect it feels to rest against you and your warmth.

“You do make me very happy.” you quietly confess, and it’s such a simple but deep statement.

Minho blushes and buries himself against you, quite proud of himself himself, satisfied by the work he’s done with your body, and kisses you mindlessly… until he falls asleep thinking of all the ways he can keep making you happy.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know #lee know smut #stray kids minho smut #minho smut

[kkusuka]

Hi Wifey!! Congrats on 2k I’m so proud 🥺😫💖 anyways I would love a smut number 3 with Bakugou, Ushijima and Bokuto plleeeaaasssee my darling -✨Puppy🤩

<3

“We’re really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?”

Fem. anatomy!

genre: smut

characters: Bakugou, Ushijima, Bokuto

cw: public sex

an: i totally forgot to post this yesterday lol

Bakugou Katsuki

The Back Alley

Patrol is simultaneously the best and worst part of being a pro hero.

Some days it was where most action happened and it was nice to see some fans every once in a while. Others, it was the most boring experience of his life, no villains, no robberies, not even a purse snatcher!

The plus-- if he could even call it that-- was that he was alone today. So what does a bored man do whilst they are alone? Scroll through all of his hidden photos for every single video or picture that you're stuffed with his cock.

Now not only was he bored and alone; but also horny and has a lot of time on his hands. He could approach this two ways; stop watching videos of his cock pounding you to hell as you cream like a whore for him and calm down or send you his location and fuck you agist the wall of the alley he currently resided.

The morally challenged being he was, choosing the latter was not difficult.

“Katsuki! Are you ok? You just said to come as soon as possible, you scared me!” your voice rang ten minutes after his cryptic text.

“Fine, just c’mere.” he led you into the small distance between buildings, tucking your body into him. Within a moment his lips were on your neck, bringing to light the reason you were called here.

His hand finding its way to your clothed pussy, singling your clit out through the thin layers of your clothes. Almost melting into his touch, you almost completely forget that you’re standing within view of anyone who walks past.

“We’re really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?” you push yourself away from his hands only to be violently pulled back into him. This time, his fingers going beyond the bounds of your panties, thrusting a finger into your already dripping hole.

“Let them” he states maneuvering your shirt into your mouth as a makeshift gag as he pushes your bra below your tits, “plus, if you don’t want to then why is your cunt fucking dripping on my fingers?”

Switching your positions, he kicks your feet further apart trapping you between his body and the wall. Sliding his fingers out of your clenching walls, relocating to your clit you feel something much bigger press against your folds.

Letting you settle for a brief moment, he presses his entire length into your heat. Pulling his hips back only to fuck it back into you forces you further into the wall. You can feel the slick running down your thighs as the sound of skin slapping rings through the alley.

“Fuck, you’d let me use you anywhere, look at you getting dicked in an alley where anyone can walk by and see,” he growled, holding up your falling hips, pulling them into his hips forcing his cock deeper than he was.

Your orgasm overtakes you as your legs collapse into his hold, his thrusts becoming sporadic as he leans to your shoulder and bites down to prevent the groan as he cums in your spasming cunt. The mix of your cum drips down your folds as Bakugou slides your panties back up your leg.

“I’ll be home soon, be ready.” he kisses your cheek and sends you wobbling out of the darkness.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Celebratory Car Ride

Ushijima is a silent force.

Unless you can read stone, knowing what he wants is nearly impossible until he tells you. You had to give it to yourself, knowing him since you were kids makes you a bit better at reading him than others.

Still, at times his stare unnerves you just a bit.

Like when you had gone to his class for the lunch break and he didn't say a word for the first twenty-five minutes. You thought he was going to break up with you, for what? You had no idea, but maybe he was having second thoughts about you, you’d only been dating for three years--since the second year of middle school if that counts--, maybe he got bored. His stare cut through your very soul.

He had you in a full panic only to tell you how cute you looked in his jacket. It was adorable that he spent all that time just trying to talk to you, but it bothered you that he could make you panic like that with just a look.

Luckily,  you made it past that stage of your relationship and understand that his stares are mostly sweet and he’s just trying to convey his emotion in a way that isn’t words.

But, even with all that, you had no idea what this stare was. If you could call it a stare, his eyes were following everywhere you went, which isn't the best considering this was one of the most important games in his career.

This stare was more intimidating. His lips pressed into a straight line, eyebrows tilted down, eyes seemingly looking right through you. It was his normal face but, he was sending chills through you every time you connected eyes.

They’d won, but Wakatoshi’s eyes didn’t lighten a bit, up close it sent waves of heat through your core. He looked at you like he wanted to swallow you whole.

“Wait for me in the car, I will be quick.” making due on his promise he meets you there a swift ten minutes later, surprising you when he swings the backdoor open. “Back here”

Following his command you slide next to him, a second after you’re throwing into his lap, hands already working to push your shorts out of his way. Not waiting a second before pulling your shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere into the front. Making quick work of your underwear by tearing it from your body, something you had stopped reprimanding him for, he’d buy you more if that’s what you wanted.

Watching him throw the shards to the side thrusts you back into the reality of where you are, “We’re really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?” you frantically begin to look at the vacant parking lot in case someone has already seen.

He answers you in silence and a mouth to your nipple, rolling it between his lips sucking like it would give him something. Placing you onto a thigh so he can release his cock from his shorts, moving your core over his tip.

“Who...who cares if they see. You are mine, they can watch all they want but they will never be able to touch.” his voice vibrates in his chest.

You breathe before Toshi pushes your body onto his, slamming his cock into your pussy. Running his hands along the curve of your waist his eyes train on how your head is thrown back as he presses against your cervix.

Not wanting you to wait, he lifts your hip then releasing letting gravity plunge you back onto his length. Taking control of the pace he begins to thrust up into you, his finger meeting with your clit, building the coil in your stomach.

Steading yourself on his shoulders, you angle your hips so his cock hits a particularly soft spot in your depths. Collapsing onto his chest he continues fucking your cream back into your pulsing hole, restuffing you with his load.

You close your eyes and feel yourself being covered with some jacket, then being moved to the front, waking up in your bed at home cuddled into your boyfriend's chest.

Bokuto Koutarou  

Locker-rooms

Koutarou could convince you to do anything.

It was almost embarrassing at this point, you should really talk to him about it. You can remain strong when he’s not with you but the second he looks at you with those wide eyes and sweet smile, you fall apart. (like a nature valley granola bar)

So now you’re standing in front of the doors leading to the boy's locker room with an armful of random sweets to soothe your seemingly upset boyfriend. Knocking on the doors you hear him allow you to enter, immediately you see him lying over a bench.

“Are you ok, Kou?” you question only getting a peek of his eye before a wave to come closer. Once you were an arm's length of him he pulled you to lay over him. Wrapping him in your arms you ask what was so wrong to make him like this, but you only receive him pushing further into the crook of your neck.

Before you could ask again you feel a pair of lips sucking on your skin. Pushing his hands under your shorts.

“We’re really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?” pulling away you try to make a move to leave, stopped by his arms encircling your waist keeping you pressed onto his bulge.

“No! They won't come in I promise! We’ll be quick!’ he speaks as he starts pulling clothes from your body leaving you in a bra and pushes aside underwear. He barely gave you enough to realize he was lined up with your entrance.

Steadily fucking yourself onto him, his hands holding your hips almost bruisingly. Once you were fully situated on him, he switched your positions, throwing your legs over his built shoulders.

Bending an arm to lean on the lockers for leverage he pounded into your cunt, intertwining his other hand into your hair.

Fucking you through your orgasm, you clenched so hard he could barely move, your hole milking him for his load. Slumping over you he connected your lips in a sloppy, tired kiss, almost walking out of the room butt naked with you in his arms.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader smut #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader smut #bokuto koutaro x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #mha smut #bnha smut #haikyuu x reader #mha x reader

[babymetaldoll]

Passive aggressive (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes!

Warnings: Cursing, a little angst, a lot of fluff. Spencer being an asshole.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: A little angst with a fluffy ending.

Summary: Spencer and his girlfriend don't know if they will survive their first fight.

Word count: 3.5 K

A/N: Hello my favorite people!! how are you doing? hope you are all safe!  here's a little "angsty" request. I had to pick between Gubler and Spencer, but I think Spencer suits better for this request. Hope you like it!

Masterlist

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

When (Y/N) fell in love with Spencer Reid, she couldn't think of anything wrong about him. Sure, she knew the man had flaws, but honestly, none of those actually bothered her. Not his rambling, not his lack of social cues. Neither his previous trauma nor how he kept moving his hands as he spoke, and how it gradually increased when the subject was about something he loved.

She liked all those things about him.

Spencer ignored all the flaws people pointed out about (Y/N), 'cos he was in love with her. He didn't care that she had a hard time sharing her feelings and that he had to basically profile her to get to know what was, in fact, going on with her. He didn't care that she was a little bossy from time to time, 'cos he loved making her happy.

All those things he could deal with, 'cos he loved everything about her.

But people don't warn you when you are dating for a long while. All those little things that don't matter can turn into a bunch of flaws that start driving you nuts. And after eight-month dating, their perfect honeymoon was over. Spencer Reid and his girlfriend were about to get into their first official fight.

No one prepared them for it.

- "Spencer? Can you help me, please?"- (Y/N) was in his room, folding bed sheets and towels.

- "In a minute!"- Spencer replied and didn't take his eyes from the book he was reading.

- "You said that twenty minutes ago"- (Y/N) frowned and dropped the clean sheets on their bed- "Please, Spencer. I'm tired, and I wanna go to bed. I'd finish folding the clean clothes if you helped me."

- "In a minute."- Spencer repeated and didn't even pay much attention to his girlfriend's annoyed tone of voice until it was too late. She was standing right next to her in the living room.

- "Spencer! Please! Fucking help me now!"- he raised both eyebrows and stared back at her, her cheeks red in anger and her hands clenched into fists.

- "Why are you talking to me like that? I haven't raised my voice to you."

- "'Cos I'm fucking tired, and you've been relaxing here for over an hour, while I do everything in the house, and you don't cooperate!"

- "Excuse me?"- Spencer stood up and took a look around- "Who cooked dinner?"

- "You did! and did you do the dishes? And cleaned the kitchen afterward? 'cos as far as I remember seeing it, it's still a mess!"

- "I'm gonna do it in a minute!"

- "No, you won't! You always do this! You make a big mess, pretend you'll clean it in a minute, and then you just leave it there until I do it!"- Spencer frowned and looked at (Y/N)'s angry face.

- "No, I don't! If anything! I am the one cleaning all the messes you leave around here all the time!"

- "What?!"- (Y/N) shriek, feeling almost insulted- "Which messes are you talking about?"

- "Top of my mind, all the hair you left in the shower! It was fucking disgusting!"

- "What?!"

- "If maybe you used all the freaking bobby pins you keep leaving everywhere, maybe the shower drain wouldn't get blocked!"

- "I didn't block the drain!"

- "And by the way, I told you I was going to help you with laundry. You didn't wait for me to it with you."

- "If I wait for you to help me, I'll run out of clean clothe, and I'll have nothing to wear tomorrow for work."

- "You do have a lot of clean clothing at your apartment! Maybe if you spent some time there, you'd see it. But you are always here!"

(Y/N)'s heart dropped. Since they had started dating eight months ago, they had spent most of their time in Spencer's apartment. She never overanalyzed it. They just did. (Y/N) loved Spencer's apartment 'cos it felt like home, and he always made her feel welcome.

Clearly, Spencer didn't feel the same. Not anymore, at least.

- "Sorry for intruding on your space, Spencer. I just thought you liked having me here!"- (Y/N) whispered with anger, trying not to cry, as she gathered all her things and put on her shoes.

- "I love having you here, but it's my house, and I don't appreciate you bossing me around, telling me what to do, when to do it, and how to do it, all the fucking time!"

Spencer kind of yelled, still mad, and not seeing the painful look in his girlfriend's eyes.

- "Well, enjoy your space. I won't tell you what to do anymore!"- and after those words, (Y/N) stormed out of the apartment, and Spencer sighed, staring at the empty space around him.

How did things get so out of hand? He had no idea. He didn't mean to hurt her, but the truth was that she was smothering him with all the nagging about the housework she kept doing. He didn't want her to do all the chores alone. He just had his own way of doing things, and he hated the fact she was imposing hers.

Could it have been said in a better way?

Yes. But Spencer didn't see that at that minute. He didn't realize how much he had hurt her. Why? Spencer didn't mean wrong, but he had no idea how hurtful his words could be when he was angry. And that night, Spencer was beyond angry.

Now, what's worse than having your first awful fight with your boyfriend? Having your first fight with your boyfriend, seeing him the day after at work, and having to act like everything is ok, 'cos you gave Hotch, your unit chief, your word your relationship wasn't going to get in the way of your work.

Bullshit! Of course, it was going to get in the way. Hotch knew it, (Y/N) Knew it, Spencer knew it. But the three of them pretended they had no idea what was going to happen.

Hotch thought Spencer and (Y/N) were going to be a mature young couple, 'cos he could see how much they loved each other. They had been in love with each other for so long before actually doing something about their feelings. Hotch thought they were never going to have any kind of trouble or argument.

He was so wrong it hurt.

The following morning, (Y/N) walked into the bullpen holding a black cup of coffee and headed straight to her desk. She waved at Emily and JJ and sighed, relieved, when she noticed Spencer was in the kitchenette with Morgan. That gave her the chance to casually ignore him and wait a little before dealing with him.

The truth was, (Y/N) was scared after their fight. She had known Spencer for over seven years, and she knew he had been honest about everything he had told her the night before. Everything. Sure, he yelled and hurt her. He didn't sugar-coat anything when he was mad. But he wasn't lying, and that was scary.

(Y/N) also knew Spencer was very passive-aggressive when he was upset. That was why she knew she had to be the bigger person and avoid him as much as possible while they were at work. Because, whatever she could say about the subject, or related, was going to trigger Spencer.

She remembered when Spencer got mad at JJ when he found out Emily wasn't dead. Spencer was hurtful when he was angry, and you don't want to be the target of his anger.

Spencer reached his desk and noticed his girlfriend was sitting all alone, practically hiding underneath a pile of files. His heart ached, staring at her for a second, fighting back the impulse of walking over and kissing her.

How long since he had kissed her? 14 hours, 17 minutes, 22 seconds. And counting.

But no. Spencer wanted to make a point, and he was still mad. He didn't want to cave in and lose that argument. Yes, it was their first fight, but he wanted to make a point. He didn't want her to boss him around in his own place and change his schedules. He had his own way of doing things. Like Paula Anka and Sinatra said: I did it my way.

Spencer had no idea, but his silence was slowly breaking (Y/N)'s heart more and more. She looked at him for a second, but he paid her no attention. Maybe it was better that way, she thought. She could focus on all the work she had to do.

But no. Of course, it didn't help.

When Penelope walked over and announced they had a case, half the team had already realized there was something wrong with their love bird. Spencer hadn't walked over (Y/N) with her favorite pastry soon after her arrival. She hadn't kissed him good morning. He hadn't spent half of the time staring at her from his desk. If anything, they had been ignoring each other most of the day.

Emily, JJ, and Derek looked at each other when (Y/N) stood up and walked alone to the conference room. Spencer didn't follow, didn't hold her hand. Didn't even look at her. He just gathered his things, put them in his satchel, and waited for a few minutes before standing up, just to make sure he wasn't alone in the room with (Y/N).

It was crystal clear: things were not going right.

Spencer ignored (Y/N) during the briefing at the jet, and he was relieved Hotch had paired him with Emily. (Y/N) focused on the case, and she was also glad she didn't have to see Reid during part of the day. She had to go to the last murder scene with Derek. It was sad and disturbing, but directing her attention to the case gave her a break and even some peace of mind.

- "What happened between you and pretty Ricky?"- Morgan was driving the SUV, and (Y/N) kept her eyes glued to the window.

- "We had a little argue"- she whispered- "Thank you for making me realize we are not subtle."

- "You are not glued to each other. That's weird. I haven't seen you two apart since you joined the BAU."- Derek chuckled and looked at (Y/N). Her arms were crossed on her chest, and her eyes were teary.

- "Wait, pretty girl. It was just a silly argument, right?"- Derek didn't even consider the couple could break up. Ever. For Derek, his best friend and his girlfriend were it for each other.

- "I don't know. I know I have to give Spencer a little space to cool off, but the more I think about it, the worst it feels."

- "But, (Y/N). He loves you. You can't let that go."- she cut him a short smile and nodded.

- "I love him too. Sometimes you wonder if that's enough, though. Maybe it was better for us when we were platonic."

- "You can't be serious"- Morgan frowned, and (Y/N) just shrugged- "Spencer is crazy for you. No matter what he said, he loves you."

Morgan was right. Spencer loved (Y/N) more than he loved himself. But he wasn't ready to let that one argument go just yet. Besides, the doctor focused on work that week. That case occupied 99% of his mind during the next couple of days.

(Y/N) knew that's how he usually worked. And the frustration that the case caused them, plus the anger he still felt after their fight, didn't make a good person out of Spencer. If anything, he was looking for a reason to start an argument with pretty much everyone, especially with (Y/N).

- "We have to consider this unsub is not acting on a fantasy. He is looking for revenge, and he is escalating quickly."- Hotch said, going over the files again.

- "But if the murderer spends time with them in their houses and kills them with something they own, something that actually means something for them, I think we might be looking for a woman. This is too personal, and at the same time, it feels domestic"- (Y/N) analyzed, staring at the latest murderer's scene pictures.

- "Perhaps the Freds didn't help her fold the clean sheets."- Spencer whispered and shook his head. (Y/N) held her breath and stood up. She had to move away from Spencer to avoid answering that kind of comment.

Unlucky for her, Spencer wasn't close to being done. And for the rest of the night, he whispered hurtful comments and kept breaking her heart over and over again. (Y/N) knew Spencer was mad, but she didn't imagine how much. Maybe she had pushed him too hard. What if that was it? If that fight meant the end for them? She was actually scared to ask.

After catching the murderer and solving the case, (Y/N) sat on her own on the jet back home, hugging her legs on her seat. Emily looked at her from behind her book and decided her friend needed some love. She poured a cup of earl grey and walked to her with a warm smile.

- "You are my hero, Emily Prentiss."- (Y/N) whispered and held her cup.

- "Well, it comes with the job. I can read it all over your face: you need tea, a warm bath, and fix things with Reid."

(Y/N) closed her eyes and sighed. Spencer was at the other side of the jet, asleep. Or well, pretending to be asleep just to avoid talking to her. She knew it, and it didn't make her feel better at all.

- "I don't know what happened, Em. But I think this might be it" Prentiss wide opened her eyes at those words and held (Y/N)'s hand right away.

- "No way. He is crazy for you."

- "Yeah, it's funny 'cos Morgan said the same a few days ago. But after this week, I think I actually drive him crazy in a sick bad smothering way. I really think I fucked things up"- (Y/N) was fighting the tears back and looked over the window to avoid human contact, though Emily still held her hand.

- "(Y/N), you have to talk to him. He loves you. He is not good with social cues and facing people. You know that."

- "Yeah, I know. But I thought it was going to be different with me. It's me, it's him. This was supposed to work easily. I guess I was wrong".

- "Nothing worth doing comes easy, (Y/N)"- Prentiss whispered and squeezed her friend's hand- "Don't give up on Spence."

(Y/N) didn't want to give up. But she was scared Spencer had already decided. It looked that way after his cold and mean attitude those days. When the jet landed, she tried to walk to him and talk, but he avoided her and just left.

(Y/N) walked to her car and sat behind the steering wheel. Finally, alone after a rough couple of days, she burst into tears. She was scared and frustrated, and most of all, anxious to know what was going to happen. That was a terrible mix of feelings.

She knew that she didn't want to push Spencer to continue a relationship that might make him miserable. That's why, after taking a few minutes to calm herself down, she texted him.

- "I'm sorry things got till this point. I didn't mean to make you feel so bad. I understand if you want to break up. I'll pick up my things tomorrow."

Spencer felt his cellphone hum as he walked into his apartment, holding a box of tandoori chicken. He thought for a second it might be Hotch with another case, and sighed annoyed just at the thought of missing the chance to relax on his own again.

But when he read it, it was actually worse.

He left the food on the table and read the text over and over again.

What had he done? Why did (Y/N) think he wanted to break up with her? That wasn't his plan at all. He just wanted to prove a point. Not end with their relationship.

Did he push things too far?

Did he act like an asshole?

Did he ruin everything?

Spencer stared at his apartment, and his heart ached. He didn't care if (Y/N) changed everything around. He just wanted her there, with him. Always. He could do laundry whenever she wanted to. He could fold sheets whenever she asked him to. He could be as domestic as she wanted him to be if that meant that she would stay with him.

(Y/N) drove back home. She thought about getting something for dinner, but honestly, all she wanted was to get into her bed and try to sleep. Spencer didn't reply to her text, which somehow surprised her. A part of her was waiting for him to tell her he didn't want to break up. But that silence was the confirmation she didn't want to have: it was over.

The young agent did her best to remain calm as she drove back home. She didn't want to cry. She could listen to Spencer's voice at the back of her head giving her some statistics about people crushing their cars when they drove under emotional distress.

(Y/N) made it to her building, parked the car, and literally dragged herself upstairs. She was about to reach her apartment when she saw him. Spencer Reid, waiting for her, sitting on the floor, his back resting against her door. She froze for a few seconds, looking at him, confused. He stared back at her and held his breath. Her eyes were puffy and red, her face was pale, and yet, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on.

- "(Y/N), I'm so sorry."- Spencer whispered and stood up. He walked to her and held her hands. She didn't follow, so she stayed in silence. Spencer lifted her hands until they reached his face and caressed himself with them carefully for a few seconds, tears falling from his eyes.

- "I'm so sorry, I was an asshole."- he murmured and kissed her hands over and over again as he sobbed.

- "Spencer..."- she whispered and stared at him confused- "I'm sorry."

- "No, I am. I was mean to you, and you didn't deserve it. You have to know how much I love you. How deeply in love I am with you. I love spending all my time with you. I don't want you to live twelve and a half blocks away from my apartment. I want you there all the time. Or I can be here all the time. I just... don't want to lose you."

- "I don't wanna lose you either"- (Y/N) managed to say- "I'm sorry I was so bossy and that I invaded your space."

- "No, I'm sorry I was an asshole and so passive-aggressive with you. I love you. I promise I will never act like that again"- Spencer hugged her and hid his face on the crook of her neck. (Y/N) hugged him too and breathed in his smell, feeling at home right away.

- "I missed you so much"- Spencer held her face with both hands and kissed her sweetly, rubbing his lips against her with such love and tenderness, (Y/N) felt her heart skipping a beat.

- "I missed you more"- she sighed into the kiss and held him closer.

- "I swear, I'm never going to hurt you again, buttercup."

- "I'm not going to nag you again. I don't care if you don't fold sheets, chipmunk"- (Y/N) smiled and rested her forehead against his for a moment.

- "You are doomed, (Y/N), 'cos I'm gonna do whatever you ask me to do from now on."- Spencer leaned in and kissed her again, feeling her smiling against his lips.

- "I just want you to be happy with me, Spencer"- she murmured- "I never want to make you feel like I'm invading your space or being bossy."

- "Then move in with me"- he said and smiled like a mad man- "I don't want it to be my apartment anymore. I want it to be ours. Let's find a place for the both of us, so we can make it our home."

(Y/N) stared into Spencer's eyes, and all she could read was his excitement and adoration. So she giggled and nodded.

- "Yes! I wanna have a home with you!"- she answered and nearly started jumping- "Come on, let's go inside so we can start looking for a new apartment. Or a house!"- her excitement was contagious, and it made SPencer chuckle.

- "Or we can have make-up sex first,"- he suggested, and (Y/N) dropped the keys she was holding. "Did you know when we argue, post-powerful hormones are released? The rush of adrenaline, noradrenaline, and testosterone triggers a state of extreme arousal. The perception of threat combined with the influence of the hormones on our brains is what takes us from seething with anger to seething with desire..."

- "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Spencer Walter Reid"- (Y/N) opened the door, and the couple rushed in. They hated to argue, but at least something god had come out of it.

------

Spencer Taglist

@calm-and-doctor @all-tings-diego

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #babymetaldoll writes

[imo-chan-imagines]

Ok after reading THAT????? U know I want more of ur sweet sweet writing omg soooooooo

Pls feed my inner Oikawa simp? I want him (in multiple ways) but right now imma go with uhhhhhh crying. I don’t care who cries. It can be either one of us.

Tbh the thought of him being so needy he cries?? Hehehehe I have thoughts.

Btw your writing is absolutely incredible and if you are not currently writing a full length novel, maybe consider it!! I’d be ur no. 1 fan and u know it mwah

— Katie (idk if u already knew my name but I did actually change it so here u go)

Oikawa + Dacryphilia | Haikyuu!! Drabble

Oikawa × fem!reader

Prompt 29: 💧 DACRYPHILIA 💧

Warnings: 18+, smutt, dacryphilia, needy + crybaby + sub Oikawa, slightly dom reader (but very caring), begging, brief dry humping, brief handjob, thigh fucking, raw sex, cowgirl, nipple play, pussyjob lmao, multiple male orgasms, he cums all over your thighs + his own stomach heheheh 🤭, 18+/timeskip Oikawa, request, 500 followers event, drabble

A/N: You just know this boy has the prettiest fucking tears you've ever seen (pun intended). Also, you already know this by now, but I am actually writing a book. Nothing like this, though 😅 Anyway, I hope you like it, Katie ♡

Special thanks to @deargalaxy, @taetsukoru, and @its-me-see for popping up in my notifs so much last week! I can't tag two of you, sorry.

• EVENT CLOSED •

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

【3:00 am】

Your eyes flutter open as a familiar shape presses into your lower back. Quivering whispers breathe across the nape of your neck.

"Please wake up. Pease wake up. Please wake up–"

Oikawa's pressed up against you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his hips flush with your ass as his boner presses into you.

You shift and groan, and his repetitive whispers cease.

"You're awake!" Relief floods his voice.

"Mm...Tooru, what is it? What's wrong?" you ask, rubbing your eyes.

"I... I– uh..." He can hardly say the words, all his attention focused on not rutting into you without your permission. "N-Need you, Y/N... N-Need to...need to cum. Please, I–"

His whimpering pleas are cut off by an abrupt inhale as you reach behind you, taking his hard cock in your hand and lazily pumping his length through his bed shorts.

"Umh!" he cries out. Oikawa's breaths were already shaking, but now they're ragged, interrupted and punctuated with moans and whimpers.

You've barely touched him, but the fabric around his crotch is already wet and sticky as you palm him.

Heat pools between your thighs.

"You're so turned on," you coo, still shaking off your drowsiness.

His hips rock, and grind, and stutter into your movements, rubbing himself through your fist and up against your back, making him choke out sighs as tears prickle at his eyes and adorn his lashes.

"Wanna fuck my thighs, baby?" you ask, twisting round to look at his face.

Two distinct streams of tears trickles down his cheeks, glinting in the moonlight. You let go of his cock and stroke his hair as he continues to grind against you, feebly humping his clothed cock against your ass.

"Mhm," he sniffles, his arms gripping your waist tighter.

"Okay then, baby. Stop moving for a sec."

He obeys, though his cock protests, and waits patiently as you pull down his shorts, part your legs, and slowly slide him between them. He whimpers as he feels the plush of your thighs closing around him, and pulls himself closer until his hips are pressed against the curve of your ass, nestling himself deep between your legs.

You feel the slick of his precum smear along the inside of your thighs, the shaft of his cock brushing against the swelling folds of your pussy.

The heat of his cock throbs against you, and you roll your hips backwards, corkscrewing his cock between you thighs. Oikawa let's out three little cries, his eyes filling with tears again as you move agonisingly slowly, back and forth, around him.

He makes just as much fuss when you stop, the tears spilling over and moisten your back as he buries his face between your shoulder blades.

"N-No, please. K-Keep moving," he begs. Then he takes in a trembling breath. "Then, c-can I move?"

When you give him permission, he whimpers, moving his hips, thrusting his cock back and forth between your legs. His moans sound in your ear in time with his quickening thrusts, his round, swollen tip sliding against your pussy and nudging your clit.

He's feral, desperate in chasing his release, bucking into you like his life depends on it. But he doesn't last long – no longer than a whole minute before his hips stutter as he cries out, spurting thick, dribbling ropes of cum across your stomach and thighs.

Amid his whimpers and sniffles, he says, "Want more. Please, I w-want more. N-Need to cum again."

His hands tremble as they paw at you. You turn over to face him, climbing on top of him and pinning his hands above his head.

"So greedy," you grin, feeling him harden beneath you. "Just how needy are you?"

Oikawa gulps. "S-So needy. I-I'm so needy, I need to cum again. I need you t-to make me cum again. I'm s-so horny, I- I–"

His Adam's apple is frantically bobbing up and down as he tries to swallow back his tears again. You lean down, still holding his hands above his head, and kiss the streams of tears of the soft curve of his cheek.

'That's right," you coo. "You're my little horny boy. Just look at that. So needy for me that you're crying, isn't that right?"

He nods, deaperately rolling his hips up into you without receiving much relief.

You make him beg just a little longer, your pussy throbbing as you watch him cry for you, begging you to fuck him and make him feel good, before rising up on your knees and slowly taking him inside you.

He whimpers with every inch, crying out his thanks when you finally start moving, fucking his long, pretty cock inside your warm, slopping pussy.

"A-Ah! Yes, thank you! Th-Thank you! Ah! Mm- ahh!" He can't stop babbling out his thanks between sobs as your mouth latches onto his hardened nipples, your tongue stroking and flicking him to whining ecstasy.

As his cock throbs and twitches against the friction of your walls, threatening to release at any moment, your walls begin to contract around him.

His whines and sobs start to rise in pitch at he nears the edge. But before you allow yourself to cum, you let him to slip out.

"N-No, please! F-Finish...Let me finish," he mewls. You wipe away his tears as he blubbers beneath you.

"Shh, don't worry. You will," you whisper as you start to roll your hips back and forth, running your pussy along the length of his shaft.

You curl you hips under, grinding your clit against his throbbing cock, drenching him in your juices as you ride him to his high.

He cries out a long, pathetic moan as his cock pulses against the folds of your pussy, painting his own stomach with the thick, white ropes, as droplets of tears roll off his jaw and onto the pillow.

The sight and sensation makes you cum almost as quickly, rutting against his cock through the waves of your orgasm shuddering though you, creaming all over his cock, still cumming underneath you.

As you lie down beside him again, each helping to clean to other, you tenderly dry his eyes, kissing his cheeks and closed eyelids.

You feel your sleep calling back to you as he rests his head against you, his hair soft and fluffy against your collarbone.

"Tooru," you mumble, your eyes closing. "You really are too pretty when you cry."

© imo-chan-imagines 2021

#imo chan imagines #♡ request ♡ #♡ 500 followers event ♡ #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #smut #drabble #oikawa tooru #haikyuu smut #oikawa tooru smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader smut #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu x reader drabble #oikawa tooru drabble #oikawa tooru x reader drabble #hq #hq! #hq!! #dacryphilia #tw: dacryphilia

[jeonfiiction]

BTS Reaction: You giving them the silent treatment

A/N: My first reaction!!! I made this awhile back so the reader is female but look forward to more. Some male readers and also nonbinary reader reactions! Enjoy!

Warnings: Slight Angst, Fluff, Suggestive Themes, Cursing, A kind of sorta breakup, female reader.

Kim Seokjin

It had been a week. One entire week since you had spoken a word to the eldest member and your prized boyfriend. His words echoing in your head.

‘Leave me alone!’ Jin yelled at you when your hand went to reach for his. Your worry about his mental health bringing about the sudden skinship but his yell piercing through your heart. “You are so annoying sometimes!”

“Kitten?” Jin’s soft voice echoed off the walls. Your body slumped against the couch, book open on your lap. The door shutting with a soft click before the light footsteps of your boyfriend followed. His body slowly sitting next to yours. Your eyes never leaving the book refusing to give in after his hurtful words last week.

“Baby…” Jin mumbled. His hand coming up to push the book down, eyes meeting yours. Guilt and regret shining clearly in the brown orbs of your lover, except the sight not doing anything to stop the sadness inside your heart.

You don't respond, like always. Turning your face away and pulling the book back up to your face. Not really reading. Very much aware of your boyfriend’s stare.

“Please baby, I...I didn't mean to blow up at you.” Jin pleas as you slowly close to book. Setting it down on your lap and looking back at the older boy. “I was so stressed and that gave me no right to blow up but...please.” Jin’s begs made your heart ache. The book falling to the floor as you moved. Slowly, gently wrapping your arms around him.

“...ok.” You let out a small breath as you spoke. Voice quiet. Jin reacting instantly. Arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer to him.

“Please forgive me, please. I love you so much Y/N.” Jin states quickly. Kissing your head and rubbing your back. Arms of yours holding onto him gently.

“I do, I forgive you.” You breath out. Resting your head on his shoulder. “I love you too.”

Min Yoongi

  “Will you stop ignoring me?” Yoongi asked with a huff. His earlier greeting earning nothing but a glance from you. The same response he had been receiving for the past few days, since his unexpected blow up.

  “Get the fuck out.” Yoongi ordered Slamming his hands down on the table in frustration. Eyes snapping to you as he growls in annoyance again. Standing up, the chair hitting the wall and startling you.

  “Yoo-"

  “Get out!”

  “Baby, come on.” Yoongi sighed out. Leaning across the counter as you cooked. Your eyes watching your hands as you cut some vegetables for the soup. The boy slowly moving around. Arms wrapping around your waist and pressing his chest against your back. His head nuzzling into your neck. Breath fanning against your skin. Small pecks being made, his lips trailing down. The knife dropping out of your hand, eyes closing briefly. A small sigh slipping from you after so long without Yoongi.

  “...Yoongi. I’m still mad.” You said simply earning a soft hum from the boy. His lips busying themselves by kissing up your neck. Hands around your waist pulling you closer to him.

  “Let me make it up to you.” Yoongi whispered. His guilt shining clear in his low voice. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

  “...Fine.” You gave in. Yoongi smiling against your skin. Turning you around to face him. Dark eyes capturing you as his lips connected with yours sweetly.

Jung Hoseok

It was so unlike Hoseok, Mr. Sunshine of BTS to get so stressed he lost it. His bubbly attitude and down right loving nature preventing him from ever taking his frustrations out on anyone, expect last week. The new dances and constant critiques made about his moves sending him into a frenzied panic.

  “Please...just go.” Hobi muttered. Already rewinding the song. Fanning himself with his shirt with his free hand. Face red from the amount of work, sweat dripping from all the exercise. The bags under Hoseok’s eyes revealing his lack of sleep.

  “No, you need to sleep.” You argued. Stepping to him and reaching for his phone. Worrying filling you at his state.

  “I don’t need or want your help! Go away!” His yells sent you flying back. Tears pooling in your eyes and his own dark orbs reflecting Hobi’s instant regret.

  “Just talk to me!” He pleaded. J-Hope’s eyes wide with the need to hear your voice after a week of pure silence. His hand touching yours where they were folded on your lap.

“...Please.” He begged. Voice low in sorrow. “I know I messed up, but please...let’s talk about it.” Your heart ached at his pleads. Letting out a small huff of defeat.

  “Okay.” You mumbled. Hoseok smiling brightly. Squeezing your hands as he began to explain himself. Each word already healing the wound on your heart.

Kim Namjoon

“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I would have known you were gonna be this damn annoying!” He yelled. Pulling away from your touch. His hands yanking on his own hair in frustrations. Your heart shattering, even if you knew Namjoon didn't mean it. Words still slicing through your soul.

  “...I didn’t mean to insult you.” Namjoon whispered. Your back facing him in bed, eyes having been closed since he had arrived. Leading the man to believe you were asleep. His hand touching your arm gently. “I was frustrated, mostly at myself. Not only because of all the work piling up but also because, I was having to push you aside.” Namjoon’s voice cracked as he spoke. Soft words turning into a quiet sob as you turned around. Your boyfriend looking shocked at the sudden movement.

  “Hey, hey.” You whispered. Cupping his cheek and wiping the tears as they fell. “Don’t cry Joonie.” His warm hands wrapped around your wrists. Eyes flickering across your face to study any sigh of anger.

  “I...I love you so much.” He managed to push out. One of Joon’s hand letting your wrist go to wrap around your waist. Pulling your body to his. Your hands moving to press against his chest. Head resting on his upper arm as he laid it on the pillow.

  “I love you too.”

Kim Taehyung

  “Just leave me the hell alone.” Taehyung snapped. His tone filled with annoyance and exhaustion. Your constant affection only furthering the stress in his mind and leading him down a path he would never had never thought was possible. Hurting you.

  “I...fine. How about...you just, find someone who doesn't bother you as much as I do then.”

  Those had been your last words to him since two weeks ago. Missed calls and texts from Taehyung filling up your phone to the point where you just stopped using it. Your work even calling you after the first week of absence and then sending you a text not to come back the next week. Pieces of your life falling apart. Heart heavy with the loss of Taehyung, heavy from his words you knew deep inside he hadn't meant.

  “Baby! Come on, open up!” Taehyung’s voice sounded from the door. His loud knocks echoing through your otherwise quiet apartment. Each jolt of the door sending a pulsing pain through your heart. “Please! We need to talk!” Tae pleaded. His knocks stopping and a sound of his hand moving down the door faintly filling the room as you stood. Slowly opening the door to reveal.

  The boy’s eyes found yours. Fear and sorrow twirling through his. Bags under them revealing his lack of sleep. Hair disheveled, clothes thrown together. Taehyung appearance never having looked so bad in your entire life knowing him. “Baby...im sorry.” He whispered. Hand pressed against the doorframe to balance him.

  “Why did you do it?” You asked in a whisper. Taehyung’s eyes lighting up slightly at the sound of your voice.

  “I...I was stressed and stupid. You didn't deserve that, at all. Please...I...I cant live without you.” Tae’s pleaded and the sound made you step forward. Slowing hugging him.

  “I love you.” You whispered. Taehyung repeating it as his arms wrapped around you. Making you feel at home once more.

Park Jimin

  Jimin had to miss an interview. His voice needing time to rest but despite his free time, the boy had closed off. Blaming himself for letting down the boys. Even as they all understood.

  “Babe, we all have times where we need to rest.” You stated gently. Running a hand through his hair and wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind.

  “Baby, just...let me be alone for now.” Jimin muttered. His tone thick with annoyance and frustration, mostly with himself.

  “Jimin...listen to me. Please.” You begged Hating his down mood and just wanting to help bring back the cheerful Mochi.

  “Just leave!” He yelled loudly. His eyes dark with frustration when he looked at you.

  It had been months after leaving him to tour without you. Going back home after his blow up. His texts and calls going unanswered. His anger something you hadn't deserved and you were determined to show him that.

  “...Princess?” Jimin’s voice filled your house. Your eyes flickering to him from you bed. His own eyes filled with guilt. Guilt and sadness. Bag dropping to the ground by the door as he slowly moved to lay next to you. Scooting over as he did. “Oh baby...please.” He begged. His hand slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you to him. His chest pressed against your back. Face nuzzling into her neck. Your heart racing at finally being near him, despite being upset at him.

  “...I don’t want to...be around you after that.” You managed to get out. Jimin’s lips leaving kisses down your neck as you spoke.

  “Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blow up at you. I was wrong too.” Jimin pleaded softly. His lips trailing down your neck more. Holding you tighter against him. “Please. I love you so much baby.”

  “...I love you too.” You mumbled. Knowing he really didn't mean it. Leaning your head back for him. His hand moving up as he nipped at your skin.

Jeon Jungkook

“It’s been a week. Talk to me.” Kook snapped out. His tone soft despite the annoyance behind his words. He hated being ignored and maybe it was wrong to use that to get your point across, but it worked.

  “I messed up, I got hurt.” Jungkook mutters to himself in anger. Having a hard time as he prepared for the show. Shrugging on his jacket and glancing at the chair he would have to sit on. The entire time.

  “Baby...things happen.” You cooed. Trying to make him feel better. Slowly helping to fix his jacket. Jungkook’s eyes remaining on the chair with resentment. Pushing you, gently, off him. Hurt flickering in your eyes.

    “Go away.” He growled in frustration. “I don't need you to sugar coat things and baby me.”

  And you had left. Hadn't even been able to comfort him when he started crying on stage due to his leg and guilt for pushing you away.

  “Babe. One entire week, this is outrageous. Please.” Kook spun your chair again to make you face him. His eyes watching you carefully.

  “You closed me off.” You finally said. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up at the sound of your voice. Touching your arms with hope.

  “I know and I was wrong to do that. Please...im sorry.” Your heart betrayed your mind. A small smile spreading across your face at his joy of hearing you speak. Nodding a little as his lips connected with yours.

#bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #Jungkook Fanfiction #jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jin x reader #jin angst #jin fanficiton #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #jhope angst #jhope fanfiction #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #suga angst #suga fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon angst #rm angst #rm fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction

[sugamamacustard]

Please don’t let me go

Pairing:  Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, NSFW

Request: HIII my favourite author!!! Happy new year 💜. Wishing you a very happy 2021. Ok sooo i got a scenario In mind. You don't have to write it if you don't want to Reader (half wolf/half omega, and if you don't write half wolf, then omega) in a pack (maybe like you know joint nekoma, fukorodani and karasuno but it's ok if you don't write that, only nekoma then in case) where their pack hasn't exactly accepted them, they're very cold with her. Reader , who has madly been in love with kuroo (cuz I'm such a kuroo lover) for very long, doesn't mind and continues to take care of everyone, making sure their ok and basically like having a soft sweet motherly attitude despite how they treat reader. But at one point reader is just fed up and feels very hurt, thinking they hate them and blames themselves. They also have to keep seeing kuroo bring in other girls for his heat and that Hurts them a lot. So reader thinks they never needed them and slowly stops contacting them. That's when everyone realises they fucked up and tried to find them but they can't. Until one day reader comes to practice and says their joining another pack and apologies for not being enough and all, how would the pack and kuroo, who loves them, stop them, apologize and make it up with them? Angst to fluff, and if you want idk if you write it but nsfw. You don't have to write it ofc! It's just a quick scenario that came to my mind. Please ignore this if you don't want to write it, and sorry if it's too specific and long 🥺

Summary:   You were excited when the other packs joined yours, even finding solace in one of the alphas of one, but suddenly, you weren’t needed. Wanted. Not what he desired. And that hurt. So you do the only thing you can think of. Try to find someone who will comfort your poor omega heart.

Author’s Note: I’m your favorite 🥺 🥺 Happy new year babes!  And I was reading this, and I just kept getting more and more ideas and began writing it right away Hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open!

Keep in Mind! This heavily based off of my Dragon/Shifter! AU from my mainblog! (@Angstyclowns) . The long short of it, is that Shifters have three forms. The first, is completely human. Though the person still has some attributes (Better sight, smell, hearing, etc.) they don’t have any visible features. The second form gives the shifter about half of their features. Tails, ears, wings, fangs, things like that. The third is the “full form”. This is a full dragon, wolf, cat, dog, etc.. You aren’t able to talk in this form, but you do have full control of your actions. I can go into more depth in this AU! if you all want, be sure to let me know!

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵ The Fukorodani pack was big. Huge maybe. 

➵ It was made up of three different, smaller, packs that had combined for both numbers and power. Karasuno, (the namesake) Fukorodani, and Nekoma. 

➵ You were originally apart of Fukorodani, only really close with Akaashi and Bokuto and had yet to get close with anyone else. 

➵ You still cared for them though. 

➵ You prepped meals in the morning, making enough for everyone. 

➵ Made sure you always had band-aids just in case.

➵ You took the role of pack omega well. 

➵ But people still seemed to hold you at an arms length. 

➵ You at first brushed it off, as they were getting used to being in such a big pack, but as they got more comfortable with Bokuto and Akaashi, you began to feel this sense of unease. 

➵ It was obvious they didn’t trust you, but you couldn’t quite place why. 

➵ It soon got to the point where even Akaashi and Bokuto were spending less and less time with you. 

➵ Your omega was hurt and you felt completely deserted. 

➵ You had no idea what was happening. Did you do something wrong?

➵ You didn’t think so. You just did what you always did. Maybe you were too clingy. 

➵ Too overbearing. 

➵ Yeah, that was it. Right? 

➵ Too much too soon. 

➵ So you slowly began pulling away. You stopped making breakfast (Staying in your nest and feigning being asleep when Akaashi or Suga would come check up on you.). 

➵ Stopped carrying medical supplies. Which hurt at first when Hinata or Noya would excitedly ask you for a cartoon printed band-aid, but immediately frowned when you said you didn’t have any.

➵ You just stopped...caring? 

➵ You went on runs a lot more, staying out later and later and leaving earlier and earlier. There were days when no one saw you at all-- Bokuto ending up crying on those days, almost as if his alpha knew you were pulling away. 

➵ He would make an effort to spend the next day with you but then the process would just repeat itself. He’d be gone with Kuroo for days, weeks on end and you were stuck alone one more time. 

➵ “We always have an opening.” Daishou hummed, stretching his arms out as his forked tongue wiggled between his lips. Your tail swiped behind you as your ears fell back. “We could use a wolf like you. Strong legs, strong jaw, good looks-” 

➵ “Don’t.” You sighed, wrapping your tail around your waist and wringing it gently with your hands. “I appreciate the offer, but I- I can’t. I just-”

➵ “I get it. It’s that damned cat, yeah?” The olive haired alpha smirked, playing with one of his scaled fingers. He chuckled at your red cheeks, licking his teeth all the while.  

➵ It was not secret that you fell for the Pack alpha of Nekoma, Kuroo, quickly. Though Daishou (A snake shifter that you ran into during one of your all day runs) didn’t approve of the crush, he didn’t interfere with it. He respected it, in fact, encouraging it on days he felt good. 

➵ You could honestly say Daishou was one of your closest friends at the moment. He always allowed you into his territory, his pack supporting and loving you all the while. 

➵ He had offered to let you join his pack, in fact, but you turned him down. You were tied with Fukorodani, with Akaashi, with Bokuto. They were your family.

➵ Whether or not they saw you the same way, that was how you saw them. 

➵ Your inner omega kept reminding you that Daishou was also your family. 

➵ You suppose the final straw was seeing Kuroo laughing with some random Beta girl. She smelled like cheap perfume, making you reel. You merely watched as he kissed her neck, nipping her ear, quickly taking her to his room. His rut was around the corner so you knew what was going on. 

➵ Didn’t mean you had to like it though. 

➵ Maybe like a rebellious teenager, this kicked off that side you had been hiding.

➵ Instead of disappearing for a day every few weeks, you disappeared for days, one right after the other. You would pop in for a change of clothes, shift into your wolf and you were gone. 

➵ You were strategic about it too. You made sure one person saw you enter, just to assure everyone else you were alive. You made sure they were far enough away they couldn’t catch you even if they shifted-- which most did. They tried to talk to you, just once.

➵ But you had routes made in the deep of night to get you out of sight, running through water to get rid of your scent, just doing everything to make you disappear. 

➵ And slowly, but surely, Daishou and his pack began considering you their omega, just as you began forgetting about the Fukorodani pack. 

➵ Everyone on the other side just got worse though. More often than not, meals were either ordered in or skipped all together. Alphas snapped on each other, Betas snarled in retaliation, omegas were hissing and closing in. 

➵ While Bokuto and Akaashi were expected to be the worst of this all, they weren’t. While they growled and hissed and snapped, they didn’t snarl. They were recluse and kept away, looking for you day in and day out instead. 

➵ The worst of all was Kuroo. He snarled and snapped, baring his teeth at anyone who crossed his path. That beta girl? She ran out a week ago, bleeding from her hand because Kuroo had bitten her for touching him when he told her to go away. 

➵ Even Kenma had been on the receiving end of a near-close call, making everyone turn their attention to what his issue was. 

➵ They only got their answer on one of the few short trips you made back. You smelled heavily like the territory next door, so much so they could smell it from your room while you were re-packing your bag. 

➵ Your nest had been dismantled and one of the several blankets in there was folded and you began putting it into your bag, only for Kuroo to slam open your door. 

➵ You chirped in surprise, crawling back from the seething alpha. He was angry, you could tell, and you didn’t want to get in his way. 

➵ You bowed your head, quickly zipping up your bag before making your way to the window. 

➵ You couldn’t deal with him right now. Not with your feelings, not with his anger. You just couldn’t. 

➵ “Where the fuck are you going?” He hissed, stomping to your window and shutting it before you could crawl through. 

➵ “I- I don’t- Just-”

➵ He stopped you, sniffing your neck. “You smell like him.”

➵ “Who’s him?”

➵ “That fucking snake! Who else?!” Teeth are dragged dangerously down your neck, making you shudder. “What the fuck are you doing near him?”

➵ “Dai-”

➵ “Don’t fucking say his name. Answer the question. Why were you near him?! His pack?! We are right here. We’re your pack. Not them.” He sounded close to exploding,  making you whine as you withdrew. 

➵ He ran a hand through his hair as he paced in front of you. “Were we not good enough? Huh? You needed another pack? WHY WEREN’T WE GOOD ENOUGH?!” 

➵ You didn’t realize it, but you began shaking, slowly drawing in on yourself, trying to seem as small as possible. 

➵ You didn’t want to make the alpha angry. Why was he so angry? 

➵ “Tell me!” Looking up, you hiccupped as tears began streaming down your face, Kuroo having his own tears dripping down his cheeks. “Why wasn’t I good enough?”

➵ He collapsed in front of you, hands yanking on his hair. 

➵ And while you were hesitant, you slowly crept closer. He was shaking his head by the time you got close enough to hear him whispering “Please don’t leave.” Making your heart and omega whine. 

➵ “I-” You stopped. What was there to say? All of a sudden he wanted you here? Where was he the past however many weeks? 

➵ You wanted to scream at him. Turn and leave through the window anyway. 

➵ Leave this pack, and Kuroo, behind. 

➵ “Don’t leave me. I don’t care about the rest of them-- maybe Kenma-- but don’t leave me. Please. I can’t handle- I can’t handle not seeing you everyday. I thought I could. I thought I could fill the void with meaningless flings, but they couldn’t even touch me before I was aching for you. “ He was sobbing now, tears dripping down his cheeks. 

➵ You hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulder, allowing him to cry into your shoulder. He held you tightly, refusing to let you slip through his fingers as he almost had. 

➵ “I-I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me anymore, Kuroo. I-I tried staying, and that didn’t work. I tried leaving, and that didn’t work either. I don’t want to leave but I can’t stay. I’m so touch starved and I can’t keep living like this!” You cried out, frustrated with all the mixed signals around you. 

➵ What did your pack want from you?

➵ “We’ll fix it! I swear, I’ll fix it myself. I swear on my life. I’ll fix it. Fix myself. Make myself that alpha you deserve. Please.”

➵ You said nothing. Only allowing him to hold you close. 

___NSFW___

➵ “Tetsuro!” You squealed, laughing as soft kisses were laced down your thighs. 

➵ “Kitten~” He responded, suckling a hickey right near your cunt. 

➵ You were wearing nothing but his sweatshirt and he was rabid seeing you, his pretty omega all nice and ready for him. 

➵ And his cock. 

➵ Sitting up, he pulled you onto his thighs with a swift movement, making you laugh once more.

➵ He smirked down at you once you calmed down, pressing a sweet peck to your lips, making you hum with satisfaction. 

➵ His hands trailed under his shirt to rest on your hips, keeping you close to him. You seemed so ethereal, sitting in the light that filtered through the window-- oranges and reds highlighting your body.

➵ “I love you. I love you so much.” He huffed, leaning his forehead onto yours, feeling the heat of your smile against his lips. 

➵ “I love you too, Tetsuro.” Another peck was pressed to his lips. 

➵ His heart felt so full, having you in his arms, having you in his grasp. He just couldn’t let you go. 

➵ He had almost done that once. 

➵ But he would never make the same mistake again. 

___

His cock dragged slowly out of your walls, sending shocks of pleasure and sensation wavering through your body as you shuddered. It wasn’t often you got to see the slow and sensual side of Tetsuro-- the one that would kiss your bond mark, the one that would tear up as he spilled praise after praise into your ear, the one that would hold a hand on your chest just to feel your thundering heartbeat only to pull your hand up to feel his own, which was just as bad--but when you did it left you  just breathless as he always did. There were days when you just needed this side and he always picked up on that, but some days he needed the solace he got with it as well. 

You’d always enable it, purring and whispering your own praises to him, kissing his temples when his emotions bubbled far to quickly for him to properly absorb, spilling over.  

It was times like this, when his forehead rested against your shoulder, did you feel closest. His pants were hot against your already flushed skin, adding already to your sensitive body. 

Running a hand through his hair, you waited for him to give you an indicator of what he wanted. What he needed from you at that very moment. 

When he didn’t move it hit you. He just wanted you close. To keep you close. To remind himself you were still there. To remind himself he won the war. He won you. He finally got the queen to his kingdom. The one he wanted from the star. 

And you would indulge him, running your both your hands through his hair and holding him close.  Even if you pretended not to feel the happy tears falling onto your shoulder. 

____

Soft sex Kuroo had me  🥺 🥺 

#alpha/beta/omega #alpha/beta/omega AU #alpha/beta/omega verse #haikyuu!! #a/b/o haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #alpha kuroo #alpha kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #alpha kuroo tetsuro x omega reader #alpha kuroo x omega reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #custard writes #Kuroo likes soft sex #no i don't take criticism

[yespolkadotkitty]

i think it’s fair to say that i’ve fallen far too in love with your zach one shots — not only do you capture his persona so well, it genuinely feels like i’m watching an episode of brothers & sisters

also, your ricky one shot was also so so so good!! you have no idea how grateful we all are that you pluck these characters from obscurity and portray their defining characteristics so accurately while also adding the loveliest fluffiest fluff of all time

i was wondering if you would consider writing a jealous!zach one shot? ngl, the (mutual) pining mixed with jealousy trope is my guilty pleasure and i feel like jealous zach would be 11/10

anyway, just wanted to say you’re fucking amazing and i adore your writing — i hope you’re having a great day!!

THANK YOU FOR THIS LOVELY ASK

(NB: Ok I know this is not Zach but it COULD be. It’s the right year. There are SO FEW pics of Zach so let’s just go with it).

Words: 1700 ~ Warnings: jealousy, pining, angst, fluff, one awesome kiss

Pairing: Zach Wellison x gn!reader

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

YOU: Is it wrong to be attracted to the super in my building?

BFF: Why would it be wrong? Use it to curry favour! Get stuff fixed faster! What is he/she like?

YOU: Tall. Tanned. Dark blond. Has a tattoo - military maybe? Sexiest voice ever.

BFF: If you don’t get him, I will.

You set your phone down and smiled.

Maybe I should say something.

Zach had been the building super of your apartment block for the last three months. He was a massive improvement on the last guy, who spent his days playing Zelda and smoking weed and very occasionally getting off his ass to fix stuff.

He’d been to your place - conveniently next door to his, he had a live-in type gig - four times. The garbage disposal, the leaky faucet, the faucet again, and then the window.

Notes could be left in his mailbox downstairs by tenants who needed assistance. He always responded the same day, the next day at the very latest, and he always tried to arrange a time with the occupant that suited them.

He’d gotten all greasy and wet fixing the faucet, his plaid button-down clinging to him, and eventually he’d stripped it off, revealing a tattoo you hadn’t been brave enough to try and examine properly, and some serious biceps.

Next time I see him, you promise yourself.

BFF: Btw, what’s happening with the dude at no 16?

YOU: Nothing.

You’d engaged in a mild flirtation with the well-built guy across the hall. Sometimes he got your mail in his box by mistake and he dropped it off, but lately he hadn’t engaged with you, and you began to think he was just being friendly.

The next day, before you could properly think of what to write down for Zach, the washing machine that came with your place started to leak. You noticed when trying to take your clothes out of it.

“Crap!”

Rather than put a note in his box, you knocked on Zach’s door.

He opened it after a minute, surprise sketched on his handsome face, hair ruffled, sweat beading at the neck of his t-shirt. Past him, you could see weight lifting equipment on the floor, along with a small speaker playing 70s rock.

“Fleetwood Mac?” You ask, smiling. “They’re my favourite.”

“No kidding?” A smile tipped up one corner of his mouth. “So... “ His brown eyes met yours, warm, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I hate to bother you directly, but my washer’s busted - leaking.”

“It’s no bother.” He glanced behind him. “Give me five, okay? I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks so much, Zach.”

He nods and closes the door. You’re about to turn back to your apartment when Well Built Guy - Damon, you think his name is - comes out of his own apartment.

“Hey,” he greets you.

“Oh, hey. How are you?”

He pushes a hand through his short, black hair. His single earring glints in the daylight; gives him a pleasingly piratical look. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Yeah, good - thanks.” You move again.

“Wait.” He takes a step closer in the small hall. “I was wondering if you - if you wanted to get coffee sometime? This place two blocks over does an amazing dark roast.”

“Oh, well-”

You’re cut off when Zach’s door swings open. He’s changed into a clean shirt, a forest-green henley, and he carries a faded red toolbox. His gaze darts between you and Damon, wary, and for a second, his mouth turns down.

As quickly as you see it, it’s gone.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he mutters, to you. “Can I go in?”

“I’ll let you in, Zach.” You turn your attention to Damon.”Catch you later?”

“Sure, sweet thing.”

He’s called you the nickname before but it’s never chafed until today.

Zach doesn’t react as you come to the door and let him in.

“Thanks for coming by so quickly.”

He doesn’t look at you. “You didn’t have to cut your time with your boyfriend short.” He sets his toolbox down by the washer and kneels, unbothered by the pool of water that begins to leech into the pale denim of his jeans.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.”

Zach sets about exploring the washer. “Okay.”

“He isn’t.” You stuff your hands in your pockets. “You want some coffee?”

For the first time, he looks up at you, and the expression in his honey-brown eyes is scraped bare, and then he looks away and the connection is lost. “Sure. Thanks. Black, one sugar.”

You busy yourself, just a few feet away - your kitchen is not big by any stretch of the imagination.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He’s absorbed, only his waist and ass sticking out from the drum of the washer.

You potter off to do some work.

An half hour later, Zach knocks on the door of your tiny office - the only other “room” of your studio aside from the bathroom. 

“All fixed.”

“Thank you so much, Zach.”

He swipes the back of his hand over his forehead, leaving a smear of grease. “No problem.”

“You’ve got a-” You reach up, every nerve on end, wanting to touch him.

A knock sounds at your door.

Dammit.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

You swing the door open and Damon is there with two coffees.

“I was on my way back from the office,” he says. “I thought you might like to - oh, the super’s still there. Not fixed yet, pal?”

Damon says it innocuously but you see Zach’s shoulders tense.

“Nope, all good.” He rubs the palms of his hands together in a “that’s done” gesture. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“... Place next door is this amazing Italian,” Damon is saying, oblivious. “It’s pretty pricey but I’d love to take you there.”

Zach pushes between you and out of the door, but you see the crestfallen set of his shoulders as he goes.

The door swings shut behind him and you turn back to Damon, resigned to see this conversation out, and to make it clear that he’s kind, but you aren’t interested.

*******

That evening, you take the stairs down to the communal gym in your building. Well. Gym is stretching it. There’s one ancient rowing machine, one treadmill, a barbell that has seen much better days, and a CRT TV that only shows Judge Judy. But, you don’t have to pay for it, so it beats a gym contract elsewhere in the city.

When you push through the door, Zach is on the treadmill, earphones in. He’s wearing a sleeveless vest and your gaze is drawn to his intricate tattoo - an eagle perched on a world, an anchor hugging the globe. Marines.

Wow, you think - wow.

Sweat trickles down the back of his neck, and his thick, dark gold hair curls around his nape.

Now or never.

You walk over to the treadmill and drop your gym bag to announce your presence.

Zach turns, does a double take, and then presses a button on the treadmill to slow it down. He pulls his earphones out.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Zach.”

Curiosity flits across his features. “Something you need?”

You swallow. He looks so good, his pale gold skin slick with clean sweat, his breath coming in soft pants, his chest rising and falling, lean muscles delineated by the clinging vest.

“No. I mean, yes.”

“And you can’t get the guy at 16 to help?” he snarks.

You step back.

“Sorry,” Zach says, immediately. “I just…”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you assure Zach.

Above his head, on the TV, Judge Judy silently reprimands a woman with six face piercings.

“He could be. Guy like him. Good job. He’d take you to fancy Italian places.”

You curl your hand around the arm of the treadmill. “Maybe I don’t want to go to fancy Italian places.”

Zach huffs out a breath, but you have his interest.

“Maybe I’d just like to hang out with you.”

Suspicion narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Maybe I like you? Did you consider that? Maybe, for some bizarre reason, I think you’re nice and attractive?” you wave your arms, frustrated.

Zach folds his arms across his chest, pursing his lips. “I used to be a Marine, but I had to resign my commission because I got hit hard with PTSD. I lived on the street for two years.”

You hold his gaze as he speaks. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

But then you know. He’s telling you so you’ll turn tail and go back to Damon, with his suits and fancy haircut and ability to take you out for $100 dinners.

He expects you to turn him down.

Because that’s what happens. What has happened and what he thinks will happen now.

Zach firms his lips and shakes his head slightly.

“Just go,” he says, so softly, mistaking your silence for pity, rather than resolve.

“No.” Instead, you lean up on your toes and touch your lips to his.

He starts, and then holds perfectly still. You break the kiss, and look up into his face, and he’s gazing at you like you hung the moon and all the stars.

“I like you, Zach,” you whisper. “And I don’t care if our first date is a picnic in the park.”

He blinks, turning away from you for a second, and then he ducks under the arm of the treadmill, and he’s so close that you breath catches. 

“I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs, and then he cups your face in his hands and kisses you like he means it, lips and teeth and tongue, and it’s everything.

You spear your fingers into his hair and breathe him in, press yourself against the hard wall of his chest, sigh his name against his lips.

“I gotta shower,” he says, with clear reluctance, his voice half an octave lower, unsteady from a kiss that has rocked both your worlds. “Then, let’s see about that picnic.”

**********

Zach Pit & permanent taglist: @mrschiltoncat @astroboots @songsformonkeys @biblioworm @aeryntheofficial @thirstworldproblemss @wheresarizona @pedropascalito @knittingqueen13 @alwaysbethewest @agirllovespancakes @f0rever15elf @heatherbel @frannyzooey @lannister-slings-and-arrows @sarahjkl82-blog @thedazeinmylife @holographic-carmen @idreamofboobear @fromthedeskoftheraven @disgruntledspacedad @chicken-nugget-puta @miulola @nelba @alienprincesspoop @tardisfangurl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @mylonelylittleappreciation @filthybookworm @absurdthirst @thestrawberry-thief @lilangeldevil006 @marydjarin @jedi-mando @havenforafrazzledmind @myoxisbroken @10-96dispatcher @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @mrsparknuts @roxypeanut

#zach wellison x reader #zach wellison x gn reader #sfw fic #brothers and sisters fic

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 9

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Someone loses the plot and makes a bad decision. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

You FaceTimed him, but it rang out unanswered. Shrugging, you sent him a text, just asking him to call you as soon as he could. Then you shoved your phone onto the coffee table, turned your attention to the TV and continued sipping your wine.

Billy could hear his phone buzzing, and then the ting of a text arriving. But he wasn’t anywhere near his desk right at that moment.

He was currently pinned up against the glass wall in his office by Dinah Madani, who seemed to have shape-shifted into an octopus, complete with all the tentacles. She’d almost managed to wrap herself around him, pushing her body against his. He was trying to grab her hands but she kept managing to pull them out of his grip. He was starting to get angry, yelling her name and “What the fuck!” in her face, but she was totally ignoring him - it was like she’d gone feral. He was trying his best not to use his full strength against her, but he was about two seconds away from completely losing his temper.

She managed to get her mouth onto his at one point while he was busy trying to grab her hands, but he twisted his head away. His shirt was hanging half-open, mostly untucked from his trousers, tie loose and pulled askew round his neck, then he felt her hand against his stomach, fumbling for his trouser button. A moment later, she’d managed to get it undone and began pulling his zip down, trying to slip her fingers inside the top of his boxer briefs. That was it for Billy, he was seriously not into this. He bared his teeth in a snarl and grabbed her wrist, twisting it up and around quite viciously into an armlock.

Grasping her other hand, which had been inside his shirt stroking his chest, he shoved her away from him and she lost her balance, tumbling onto her ass on the floor. Billy still stood against the window, getting his breath back and his temper in check, then he walked round her and into his en-suite.

He stripped off his wrecked shirt and dumped it on the floor, grabbing an Anvil hoodie from a drawer in the unit next to the sink and pulling it on over his head. He exchanged his trousers and shoes for tracksuit bottoms and trainers, took a deep breath and walked back out into the main office.

Madani was sitting on one of the chairs, head in hands, her fingers carding through her hair. She looked up and glared at him as she heard him walk through, but didn’t say anything. Billy had something to say though.

“I can’t believe what you just did, Dinah!!! What the fuck is wrong with you? If it was the other way round, you’d slap me with a sexual harassment charge so fast I’d get a nosebleed!”

Her eyes teared up, but she blinked them back fiercely. “What is wrong with me? Ask yourself the same question! You lead me on, make me think it was going somewhere, then drop me like a hot potato the minute you meet your little coffee queen? And now you’ve humiliated me. You’re such a bastard, Russo!”

He perched on the edge of his desk, looking over at her, “I humiliated you? How? - cos I wouldn’t fuck you when you just threw yourself at me?” He folded his arms over his chest.

“And I already apologised for maybe sending mixed messages. But you also carry some of the blame, Dinah, you assumed things based on a couple of lunches and a drink one night in a bar.” “And a kiss after that drink!” she bit back at him. He scoffed, “Fuck! Are you in junior high or somethin’?” Putting on a high-pitched voice, “He kissed me, mommy, so now we’re gettin’ married!”

He continued, back to his normal voice, “You’re being ridiculous and you know it. Listen, I’ll forget this whole thing ever happened if you get your damn head back on straight and focus your attention back onto the fucking case, instead of what I got inside my trousers!”

She stood up, “Fuck you, Russo! You know what, yes! Let’s get this case closed, then I won’t have to see your sorry ass ever again!” Looking around for her bag, she grabbed it off the floor and headed to the door. Billy, meanwhile, chuckled, “Now, Dinah... you’ve never seen my ass.”

She flipped him the finger with real feeling, and left.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was driving over to her place, and he dropped her a text saying he was nearly there. He hadn’t called her back, because he wanted to tell her face-to-face about what happened earlier with Dinah. It wasn’t something you talked about on the phone. He still couldn’t quite get his head round how desperate Madani had been, clawing at his clothes and her hands and mouth all over him. Now he guessed he knew what it felt like to be treated like a piece of meat, and at least had the decency to feel some personal guilt.

It was pretty much how he’d treated women all his life, if he was being honest. He wondered if not having a mother around, someone who would’ve loved and nurtured and cared for him, had contributed to his “fuck ‘em and leave ‘em” attitude to women. Who knew?

He sighed, knowing his girl was going to be really fucked off when he told her about it, and he only hoped that - coming so soon after the lunch date thing - she believed him when he said he’d shut her down as quickly as he could. Should he stop and buy her some flowers or something? Nah. That might just make him look guilty.

As he drove, the thought came unbidden into his mind that the Dinah thing was something that Previous Billy Russo would’ve just sat back and let happen. And enjoyed it. He started quietly laughing at himself, shit... he was screwed.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d just poured yourself another glass of wine when your phone chimed.

Picking it up, you saw it was a text from Billy... “Nearly at your place, angel. Any food going? ;) 😘”

You laughed, he really was a cheeky big devil. But, nah, no home cooking tonight Russo, you thought, I’m too frazzled after today. So you grabbed a menu from your local Thai and called them with an order of two portions of green curry, fragrant rice and some sides to be delivered in about twenty minutes.

Opening the door to Billy a few minutes later, you grabbed him into a bear hug and just rested your head on his chest. Not that he wasn’t enjoying it, but Billy knew this wasn’t ‘you’. You’d told him you didn’t ever want to be seen as ‘too clingy’ with your men. He’d told you at the time that you could cling to any part of his body you wanted to, for as long as you wanted to.

Taking hold of your arms, he gently moved you back so he could see you properly, “Hey, hey... you OK, angel?” You gulped a bit and nodded, then headed away to get a wine glass for him. Now he was here, you actually felt quite weepy, but you weren’t about to start blubbering like a big adult baby in front of him.

Billy closed your apartment door behind him, and followed you to the kitchen area. You saw him looking past you at the cooker and you laughed, instantly cheered up. “Sorry, Billy. No food, couldn’t be bothered.” His ‘disappointed puppy’ face was something to see. You poured him some wine, “Don’t worry darling, some Thai is on its way to us, should be here in about 15.” “Thank fuck for that, sweetheart, I’m absolutely starvin’!” he smiled down at you. Handing him the glass, you moved back to the sofa, collapsing onto it with a sigh.

Billy joined you, putting his glass on the coffee table and reaching down to take his trainers and socks off. He swung his legs up and his bare feet landed in your lap. You started tugging at his toes a little, and he picked his wine glass back up and took a sip. “Mmhm, that is a good red wine. And that,” he wiggled his toes against your fingers as you stroked them, “...is heavenly.” “It’s all the nerve endings. There’s so many of them in your feet.” He nodded, smirking, “But not as many as in another part of me.”

You laughed, untangling your fingers from his toes and reaching over to run them through his hair, “Food first, tiger.” He laid his hand over yours as you rested it on the back of his neck, sighing, “Yeah, okayyy... I won’t argue with you about it this time.”

Your buzzer sounded just then, and you collected the food from the delivery guy, then took it all over to the coffee table. Picking up cutlery and napkins from the kitchen, you and Billy proceeded to demolish the delicious Thai meal and then both collapsed back against the sofa. “That was...” Billy groaned and stretched, “...wonderful.” He reached for you, pulling you against him, kissing you lazily, softly. “Mmm. You know you didn’t kiss me when I got here? But I’ll let you off,” he smiled at you, but the smile faded almost immediately . He suddenly sat up, as if he was going to make a break for the door.

You felt a bit spooked by this - you’d just decided that second you were going to tell him about your ‘stalker’ - and it was almost as if he’d guessed you had something uncomfortable to say.

Looking across at him, you cleared your throat, feeling nervous for some reason. You noticed Billy had the same nervous look on his face you were sure you had on yours.

“Billy...” he was staring at you, “Madani came to the café today. Twice in fact.” His mouth dropped. You carried on quickly, “The first time she just had a coffee and left. In fact I wasn’t even 100% sure it was her. It was though, she came back later under the pretence of interviewing me to find out how us knowing each other would ‘impact’ her case.” You reached over and took his hand, he was still staring at you, amazed look on his face. “Then she just couldn’t help herself, she told me you two were seeing each other - dating, she said!”

He was shaking his head, “Nuh-uh, no! We were never....” You interrupted him, “I know. Look, Billy, I set her straight. Told her that was before you met me, and... and all that stuff with her was in the past.” A small grin appeared on his face, and you continued, “I hope I wasn’t out of line saying that.” He stroked your hand, “You definitely weren’t.” “But I didn’t tell her why you’d been... so friendly... with her. She wasn’t happy, Billy, like really not happy. Stormed off without saying another word.”

Billy was nodding to himself, “All makes sense now.” He looked over at you, eyes wide, “Got a visit from her too, must’ve been after she’d been to see you.” He took a deep breath, “Look, you’re not gonna like this, but please just hear me out.”

Your stomach dropped, you really didn’t like where this was heading. What had that crazy woman got up to with Billy?

“She came to Anvil, and... and, well she basically jumped me. Just walked in, didn’t say a word, tryin’ to get my clothes off, hands everywhere. I tried to grab her hands but didn’t wanna go over the top.” You were still holding hands, and he intertwined his fingers with yours, gazing deep into your eyes. “She went for my zip and that was it, got her in an armlock and threw her off me. She fell over on her ass.”

He was surprised when you burst out laughing. That was a much better reaction than he’d been expecting. “Oh I’d’ve paid good money to see that,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “Billy, I think she’s lost it. Gone a bit nuts with jealousy over you. Your male ego must be totally preening right now.” He smirked, but then got serious again. “No, actually it’s not... it’s just made me feel guilty. About how I had a “one and done” approach with women up till now. Got a dose of my own medicine, angel.”

“Treating people like sex objects, you mean? I’m sure most of us have done that at some point. Maybe you more than most,” you shrugged. “But have you turned over a new leaf, Billy Russo?” you asked, hand going to his bristly cheek. He nodded slowly, “ Yes I have, ma’am. Ever since I met you,” leaning in and kissing you. Your arms went round his neck, and you kissed him back hard. He whispered, “I was really afraid to tell you about it. Thought you wouldn’t believe me.”

You whispered back, “I don’t really know why, but I trust you, Billy. Don’t make me regret it.” “I promise you I won’t.”

You slid your hands under the hem of his hoodie, “Moving right along, Russo... I hope you don’t mind if I treat you like a sex object for the rest of the night.” His eyes twinkled at you as he said, “Oh, well, gee I might need to get my union rep involved.”

You slid your hands further up his chest, and reached up to kiss that sensual mouth of his. Then you sat up and took your bra off from under your t-shirt, dropping it on the floor before climbing onto him. You shimmied your leggings down your thighs slightly, and rubbed your body along his. Bill’s eyes were as wide as the moon, watching to see what you were going to do to him.

One of your hands went to the waistband of his tracksuit but then you paused, “D’you want me to stop, Billy?” Despite your earlier joke, you were aware that Madani had just invaded his personal space and not in a good way. His dark chocolate eyes were gazing into yours, and shaking his head he stuttered, “N-no.”

So your hand continued its journey southward underneath his boxer briefs, and soon it was happily wrapped around his velvety length. He gave a deep groan, one hand going to your hip, the other to your clit. You really weren’t in the mood for foreplay. After the events of the day you just wanted to feel Billy inside you, making you feel good and driving away any remaining thoughts or insecurities you might have about Madani.

The fact that you both still had your clothes on was exciting you as it made it seem like you two were having an illicit encounter. You pushed Billy’s tracksuit and briefs down to mid-thigh, revealing him in all his glory. Knowing you were more than ready for him, you gave him a couple of firm strokes and then guided his cock between your legs and put his tip straight inside you.

Billy gave a surprised gasp, but then thrust up into you as you rode him. “Uhh...” he groaned, then managed to say, “...no condom.” “Fuck it,” you whispered back, “...it’s fine, don’t worry.” You loved the view you had of him, hair in disarray where you’d been running one hand through it and those dark eyes of his on you, always on you. You felt him deep inside you and clenched around him, making his eyes close in pleasure and a long low groan escape his lips. His hand gripped your hip, his other hand massaging your breast and palming your nipple, making you gasp.

You stepped up your pace, riding him like you were about to ride off into the sunset. He was making a lot of noise you noticed, crying out and groaning, almost whimpering, so you leant over and whispered “Puppy” into his ear. As expected he laughed but then smacked your behind, quite hard, making you yell “Ow!!!” You gripped him extra firmly in retaliation and he howled, “Okay, okay, I surrender! I can’t last much longer anyhow....” and he did come shortly after that, huffing out a big breath, fingers digging into your hips and his own thrusting up to meet yours. He then made sure you climaxed, staying inside you, stroking your pussy before moving his thumb to your clit and pleasuring you until you came.

You lay in each other’s arms, in that post-sex blissful state. Billy’s nose was buried in your hair as it lay against your shoulder, and you could feel him rubbing it back and forward, tangling up in your hair and gliding across your skin too.

You heard a massive sigh, his chest rising and falling. “Billy?” you murmured, “You OK?” He sat up a bit and propped his head up on his elbow, gazing at you. He gave a quiet laugh, “No, I’m not. In fact, I’m really fucked.” You sat up too. “Well, yes so am I, if you recall!” you laughed. Reaching out, you stroked the hair on his chest, between his pecs.

“But, seriously, what d’you mean, Billy?”

His eyes looked huge as he gazed at you, “I, uh... think I’ve fallen in love with you.” He stroked your cheek, “And it scares the shit out of me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Additional A/N: In case you hadn’t guessed, this my imaginary ‘Real Love for Russo’ AU ☺️

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

[winter-fox-queen]

I only have my self to blame...

Frankie Morales x you fic 

Tags:  A lot of cursing.  So much cursing.  Drug use.  Angst.  

Summary:  I kept thinking about the coke rap they mention in the story.  And I thought, what if Frankie was innocent?  So most of this is about that, with a tense change so that when the reader enters the picture, it’s “you” -- no y/n.

I have never written a fic before.  I am no nervous AT ALL.  But I wanted to give something back, even though it’s not really romantic.  I logged into my laptop so I could use cuts.  XD  I am ashamed at how long it took me to remember my password.

2,083 words.

It was, really, a bullshit coke rap, but it was still Frankie’s fault.  He was flying one of the boss’s nicer planes, a pretty little Cessna Caravan, fitted out for luxury in the back, a curtain separating the pilot from the main cabin.  The curtain was partly folded back, so the rich folks in the cabin behind him with their booze, lounging in their leather seats don’t have to stare at the back of Frankie’s tousled, ball cap covered head.  

It also meant that he could hear what they were saying, the headset over one ear was quiet, but he’d already decided they were a bag of dicks and he wasn’t going to pay attention to them, as they laughed like a bunch of frat boys behind him.  There was a mirror, angled so he could see what was going on, and once in awhile he’d look.  There were five men and one woman, the men acting like a bunch of frat boys, the woman trying to pretend she was amused.

Frankie knew, of course, that the trouble was men like that made that secret chip on his shoulder come out. The one he tried to ignore.  Because I’m better than that, right?  They ain’t got nothing that I want.  But they did.  They didn’t have to worry about money…they didn’t have a new baby to worry about, they didn’t have to play the game of if-I-pay-this-bill-I-can-pretend-I-didn’t-get-that-one.  He was tired, worried about his lady, scared that he was going to fucking fail her, fail their little girl, Luna.  

He let out a long, pent up sigh.  He itched to put on some music, was considering it when the shuffle of curtain fabric told him he was no longer alone.

The sole woman from the back gave him a shy smile.  “Do you mind? They’re acting like idiots back there.” She had a stylish, blunt cut, a white button shirt and a short, black skirt.  Everything was fitted perfectly so the clothes molded against her.  It looked polished rather than cheap.  He smiled politely  and shrugged as she arranged herself gracefully into the copilot chair.

“So, you said your name was Frankie?”  She reached out with a foot and nudged his chair.  She’d shed her high heels, and, despite the shortness of her skirt was gathering her legs under her.  

Lady, you might as well have a danger sign around your neck.  He nodded, feeling a little out of his depth.  

“Macey.  Pleasure to meet you.  You been a pilot long?”

He nodded.

“You don’t speak much, do you?”  She was flirty enough that even he, usually captain obvious, caught on.

He gave her a sidelong look. “I’m trying to figure out how to slip the face I have a wife and kid into the conversation.”  Wife was a stretch.  He wanted to marry you, he dreamed about it.  He wanted to give you everything – a nice ring, a pretty dress. A day to be a be special, to feel loved. Proof to all your  friends and family that he could take care of you, that he was worthy.  He was scraping up money, setting it aside.  If he didn’t go for a diamond, maybe he could get her something else nice. Maybe an opal.  Opal rings couldn’t be that expensive, right?

She laughed.  “Sorry.  I’m bored.” She held up a hand.  “Scout’s honor, I will do nothing to hurt your marriage.”

He gave her a grin.  “Well, then, tell me a story.”

“A story?”

“Yeah.  Once we touch down in…”  He looked at the time “About two hours, we won’t see each other again. So tell me a story.  Something you’ve always wanted to tell someone, but you couldn’t.”

She arched an eyebrow provocatively.

“Not like that, not a secret.  Just a story you want to tell.  Can be anything, I don’t care.”

She looked bemused for a second.  Then she starts, haltingly, as if she’s never had t actually make real conversation.  As if she’s never had anyone to listen to her.  And the thing is, she’s funny.  Clever. He finds himself laughing as he does his thing, even throwing back a couple of smart remarks of his own.  She has a gift of making him feel like he has a wicked sense of humor, and for a little bit, the cares he’s been harboring fall silent.  

So does the cabin behind him, once.  He has a mirror, set low, so he can see behind him.  The ringleader of the group is glaring at him, not looking too happy.

Well, fuck him. What can he do?  

A lot, apparently.

They land, and Macey gets up to go out the back.  “Thanks, Frankie.  Good luck with everything.”

“You, too, thanks for passing the time with me,” he says, and sets about the tasks.  He checks gauges, writes things down, and finally, goes back and checks over the cabin.  He gets out a basin from a cabinet and puts the used rocks glasses in it.  He won’t wash them – he’ll just dump the basin on the sideboard inside the hanger.  He doesn’t have to do the cleaning, but Allie, the janitor who usually cleaned up the planes, had hurt her back and everything, like picking up candy bar wrappers and throwing them away, checking the seats to see if anything had been left behind was an extra chore she did not need.

The plastic baggy was almost invisible against the beige leather of the seats.  He picked it up, made a shocked little huff, like he’d put his hand on a snake.  Coke. A pretty good amount of it, too. The old craving raised its head, making his hand shake a little.  He heard voices, and shoved the baggy in his pocket.  I’ll pitch it.  He had to take a leak, anyway, he’d go, flush that garbage down the toilet, and there. Done.  He wasn’t that man any more.  It was the one thing he could do for you.

He grabbed the waste basket and put it next to the door, grabbed the tub of glasses and put it under his arm.

“Frankie?  You in there?”

“Yeah, boss…coming.”  Snagging the clipboard to put on top of the glasses so he’d have a free hand if he needed it, he went down the steps and onto the tarmac.

Hector stood there, hands in his pockets, looking ore hang dog than usual.  “Yeah, boss?”

“The passengers said you were flying high, Frankie.”

That stopped him dead, like to concussion from a bomb, hitting his face and chest and taking out the air in his lungs.  “What? No, I’d never…”  

“They said that they saw you – just before take off.  And you know, I don’t want to believe it, but looking at your eyes…they do look awful red.”

“I’ve been up late with Luna.  She’s not been sleeping that great, and I can’t leave it all on…”

Hector nodded, as if he believed him, but Frankie had a feeling he didn’t.  He’d give real money to know exactly what the fuck had been said. “Turn out your pockets, Frankie.”

You jackass.    He attacked himself.  Did you really think they just accidentally left that much coke behind? You fucking jackass.  “I found some shit they left behind, but you gotta believe me, Hector, I am clean.  I’ve been clean for a couple years now.”

“Just show me your pockets, son, then we can just leave this behind.”

He took the coke out. “I told you, I found it on the plane.”

Hector shook his head, and started to walk away.  

“Look, I’ll take a test.” He jogged a little, caught the other man’s arm.  “Seriously. You can watch to make sure I’m not cheating.  You’ll see. I’m clean.  I’ll take a drug test right now.”

“You just happened to find a baggy of coke?  That the passengers happened to leave behind?  And why would they accuse you, if it’s not true?”

Frankie dropped his hand. I guess you wouldn’t believe me if I said some asshole thought I was flirting with his girl and thought he’d get back at me…hell, I’m not sure I believe it.

“I’ll be reporting you. They’ll suspend you.  Maybe they will go easy on you, you being a Vet and this being your first offense…but you need to clean out your locker.  I’ll write a check for what we owe you.”

“I…I need this job.” He could hear an edge of pleading in his voice, and he hated it, but he’d go down on his fucking knees and beg if he had to.

Hector’s eyes hardened. “And I don’t need to send a druggie up in one of my planes.”

**

Frankie took the back roads home.  There was an old farm gate, a place where he could pull off the road and stare, blindly, at overgrown fields.  

“What am I gonna do?” He whispered, over and over, like a mantra.  “What am I gonna fucking do?”  His hands clutched the steering wheel, knuckles white.  He could barely breathe, and when the words wouldn’t come he just sat there, panting, beating his head against the steering when and wondering how he’d survive this.

When his breathing steadied, he got back on the road, and went home.  It was the only thing he could do.

You knew something was wrong, he could see it, but he wasn’t being exactly subtle, pressing his spine against the doorframe like he was ready to run.

“Hey baby,” you say, and he smiles a little.  Tries, anyway.

“Where’s Luna?”  He’s surprised how hoarse his voice is.  He shouldn’t be.  He’d been in some bad situations, but he’d never felt this a drift, this terrified.

“Laying down.”  You say it sweetly, like everything is OK.  You’re cooking bread in the over, something’s in the crock pot and everything smells like home and like everything left to lose.

You lean against the sink. If you reached out, you could almost touch him, but you don’t.  There’s a look in your eyes, like Frankie is a wild animal, easily spooked and so you’re going to move slow and careful.

“I lost my job.”  He says it so quietly he’s not sure you heard, until your shoulders drop a little.  

“Oh, honey, what happened?” No recrimination.  Not yet.  You take a step closer to him.

So he tells you.  He doesn’t lie, just lays it all out there.  Not looking at you, not daring to, instead staring at the refrigerator door and all the magnets and photos and clutter.  But seeing them, either.

“He didn’t believe you?” You practically shriek it out.  “What the fuck…you’ve been an awesome employee for what?  A year and a half now  and he wouldn’t even let you take a damned test to let you prove yourself? Seriously?  I’m going to kick his ass…”

The baby monitor interrupts her, Luna making fitful little noises.  After all, the house was not that big.  You hold a finger up to Frankie.  “Hold that thought.”  You leave the kitchen, shaking your head, and Frankie stands there, feeling like he’s on the edge of the precipice.  

“Ah, Luna, baby, what’s wrong?”  He can hear you, a much gentler, sweeter voice echoing out of the monitor.  He stands over it, hands clutching the counter on either side of it, listening.  You are both everything to him.  Everything.

He listens to you say nonsense as you change the little baby, to you muttering about how such a tiny, adorable thing can smell so bad.  “You must get it from your daddy,”  you say a little louder, as if you know Frankie is there, listening, and he grins a little.

He doesn’t move, when you come back out into the kitchen, when you wrap your arms around him.  You hug him tight and he starts to feel a little less adrift.  

He turns, looks down into your eyes.  “You believe me?”  Puts his arms around you carefully, like he’s still not sure of his reception, because he still doesn’t feel like he deserves this, the right to touch you.  

You reach up and cradle his cheek.  “Always, mi vida.  Always.” And he starts shaking, and he starts crying and he buries his face in your neck so you can’t see, and you toss aside the ball cap so you can stroke his hair.  “It’s going to be alright, honey.  We’ll figure it out.  Its going to be alright.”

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #fix it fic #pedro pascal #our soft boi is innocent #mostly

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

someone behind me was tracing my steps / maybe you’re better off this way

Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki

Characters: Asakura Takeshi, Kido Shinji

Songs: "After the Fall," October Project & "Passive," A Perfect Circle (playlist here)

Takeshi’s sitting against the wall, bleeding out, and the mirror guy—Kanzaki, right—is standing over him, mouth twisted in something he vaguely recognizes as dismay. “I can’t use this, there’s barely any energy left,” he says, not to Takeshi, and there sure as hell isn’t anyone else in the room. “I’ll have to reset.”

“Hang on a second.” Takeshi coughs and feels his mouth fill up with the taste of copper, which isn’t such a bad flavor when you get down to it. “What about my wish?”

Kanzaki doesn’t even look at him, already fucking around with the mirror. “You don’t want anything, there’s no point.”

“Sure I want something.”

“…what on Earth could you want at this point? It’s all going to be reset anyway.”

Takeshi grins up at him, knowing that it’s sure to be an unnerving sight with his teeth all over blood. “Lemme remember.”

“Out of the question. Giving one participant unnecessary foreknowledge would interfere with the procedure.”

“Nah, nah, I’m not gonna interfere with shit. It was just a hell of a time.” Takeshi looks up just as Kanzaki is looking down and grins his bloody grin a little wider. “I like to remember times when I had fun. Looking forward to doing it over again. Let me remember.”

---

It’s not until he graduates university that Shinji realizes that he’s missing something.

Slightly after, really. He graduates, he works some shitty part-time gigs, he does some freelancing, and then Ookubo gets in touch and offers him a job at Ore Journal. That’s all fine, but when he steps through the door of the Ore offices he’s hit with a wave of déjà vu so powerful that he nearly trips and falls face-first into Reiko’s desk. Fortunately he catches himself before anyone notices. It had been bad enough trying to explain to his mother about the girl who lived in his mirror when he was thirteen; he can’t imagine how the people here would react to, “I remember walking into this room for the first time at least eight times over.”

He gets a grip on himself, but the feeling of loss stays. He’s missing something, and he doesn’t know what. Sometimes he’ll get a glimpse of it, he’ll pass someone on the street or overhear a snatch of conversation and a fragment of memory will overwhelm him, but he never gets everything.

From the bits that he sees, he’s not sure that he wants to get everything. It might be better to be missing something than to remember.

---

Takeshi’s known that he’s missing something for a long time now, and whatever it is, he wants it back.

He’s not exactly an educated guy, but he knows himself pretty well, and the idea that there’s a big chunk of him missing is galling. He can feel its absence. He can’t tell what it is, it hasn’t got any kind of useful shape, no edges that he can detect, but it’s his. And since he wouldn’t just go carving out part of himself, that means he’s been robbed.

He doesn’t take kindly to being robbed.

Mostly, though, he can ignore it, the way you ignore a hole in the wall that you don’t feel like repairing yet. He does what he likes, gets what he wants, eats when there’s food, and doesn’t think about it unless he reaches for something in his mind and finds that it isn’t there.

And then he sees the journalist.

Some sweet-faced kid, he is, showing up at a bar that Takeshi likes and bugging the regulars about a local ghost story that Takeshi knows for a fact is bullshit. He doesn’t try coming over to Takeshi’s corner, because the bartender visibly warns him off, but he’s talking to everyone else. That suits Takeshi fine. He can just sit with his drink and watch and remember, in shards and splinters, tantalizing and incomplete.

Kido Shinji is what’s printed on the business card he swipes from the bartender once the journalist leaves, with the address of a tea shop written on the back in pen.

Now there’s a name that rings a bell.

He stares down at the card for a moment, not sure whether he’s pleased or furious, and then heads out. Guy couldn’t have gone far.

---

Shinji gets through the door and is immediately handed an apron and a bandana for his hair. “Dishes.”

“What—Ren, I just got here.”

“Yeah, and there are dirty dishes. I don’t have time to deal with them, there are customers.” Ren squints at him for a moment, frowning. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

Shinji pauses in the middle of tying back his hair, uneasy. “I’ll tell you once there aren’t customers. Where’s Miyu—he’s still working, ok.”

Ren rolls his eyes. “Apparently that middle schooler who was here last week told all of her friends about him, he’s been busy all day.”

There are a lot of dishes piled up, and it keeps Shinji busy until Ren’s shooing out the last customers of the day. Atori’s different without the old lady, but it’s not a bad different; hopefully she’s happy in whatever warm place she moved to after she sold the shop to Ren. She’d certainly never seemed happy here.

He’s happy here. In a stable place, with a little bit of stable work apart from Ore, with people who inexplicably love him for reasons that none of them quite remember clearly.

When the last customer is out the door, Ren leans back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, and says, “So something’s bothering you, spit it out.”

Shinji frowns down into the dishwater. “I think someone was following me again today.”

“What, again? How long’s this been going on now, two weeks?”

“Three and a half. Ever since that thing I was looking into about the ghost, do you remember that one?” One saucer in the dish rack, start washing the next piece. “Maybe I pissed off the ghost.”

“You said there wasn’t a ghost.”

“Well, yeah, but what if there was and now it’s following me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not being chased by a ghost.”

Shinji glances nervously over his shoulder, as if he’ll see his ghost reflected in the tea shop window. “How can we be sure, though?” He picks up another dirty cup and starts to wash it. “Some of the things I remember…”

Ren’s arms wrap around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. “They aren’t here,” more softly and gently than he usually speaks. “No ghosts. Just you, me, and Miyuki.”

“No ghosts.” Shinji takes a deep breath. “You’re right. No ghosts.”

---

The place isn’t tough to break into. Decent locks, but nothing Takeshi can’t get past with a crowbar. He lets himself in and looks around the vaguely-familiar tea shop with interest before heading past the counter and to the back. Stairs lead up to the apartment above, and sure, they creak a little, but that’s nothing to worry about. After all, he’s still got the crowbar if he really needs it.

Upstairs, the place is chaotic in sort of a cute way, decorated as it is by three people with clearly pretty different sensibilities, fragments of three very different lives on display. It smells faintly of frying oil, too. Someone made something good for dinner tonight. On a whim, he checks the fridge, finds a container of leftover gyoza, and eats them absently as he contemplates the shopping list stuck to the freezer door. Eggs, rice, sliced pork belly, in neat handwriting that definitely isn’t Kido’s.

He finishes the gyoza and the tail-end of a carton of milk, leaving the empty containers behind on the counter and picking up his crowbar again as he heads toward the back of the apartment.

There are three bedrooms, and none of them are marked, doors closed against the darkened hallway. Checking each one would be a hassle, and might lead to more trouble than Takeshi feels like getting in right now. Instead he just remembers how jumpy Kido seemed even before Takeshi started following him and lets intuition lead him to the room closest to the fire escape.

The door swings open, and the first thing he sees is a cloth square on the wall. A covered mirror.

There we go.

Kido’s asleep, sprawled across the bed with his head tossed back and his hair spread out on his pillow, throat pale and exposed. Alone, which makes things a little easier. There’s a computer desk set up in the corner of the room; Takeshi grabs the chair from it, drags it over next to the bed, and sits, resting the end of the crowbar on the floor as he’s saying, softly and cheerfully, “Hey, Kido. Wake up.”

A shift, an irritated mumble, “Not time to—” and then one eye opening halfway and the jolt, Kido scrambling upright in the bed, one hand flung out to the side reaching for something that isn’t there.

What isn’t there?

Splinters reform into another regained memory: a deck of cards in an elaborate case, gleaming purple metal smooth and cool in Takeshi’s hands. There’s a name that goes with it, or maybe more than one, faint and still lost but centimeters from the tip of his tongue.

Kido’s gone white as a pan of milk, hand still empty because they’re in a world with no decks, now, no monsters that Takeshi suddenly remembers with fondness, not nearly as much fun, and Takeshi leans forward on his crowbar and smiles, friendly, like, and says, “Come on, Kido, I remember you being more interesting.”

---

Shinji can hear his heart beating over the ringing in his ears. There’s a bit of light coming in from between the mostly-closed curtains, just enough to see by, and with his hand coming up empty and his unwelcome guest illuminated so that only golden hair and white teeth are visible, he is assailed by memory.

He knows this man.

From the corner of the bar where he’d been looking into that ghost story, sure, the one the bartender had told him not to bother, but also from before, from ten befores or more. A killer, vicious and cheerfully so, dangerous to be around, but beneath the adrenaline thrum Shinji can feel another pulse, pity, pity, pity, perhaps misplaced but still there.

He fights to get his breathing under control and says, “Asakura. What are you doing here?”

“You took something of mine.” Asakura’s head tilts slowly to the side, semi-friendly grin still visibly. “I came to get it back.”

“I don’t have anything of yours.”

“Never said you did. I said you took it. Didn’t say I thought you had it.”

“That…you know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

“None of this makes sense, Kido. We live in a world that revolves around a guy like you.” Asakura leans forward, one hand darting out to grab Shinji’s chin, ragged nails digging into his skin. In the dim light his eyes are flat and dark and predatory as their gazes lock, only taking on any gleam as he drinks in…something, whatever he’s getting from looking at Shinji like this. Shinji nearly asks, in fact, but he can’t quite speak, and anyway Asakura’s talking again, still as cheery and conversational as he has been. “Used to be, I got the deck in my hands and I’d remember all of it. That was the deal. Don’t know how the mirror guy finally bit it, but whatever happened, you’re the key to everything now.”

Shinji’s considering shouting for Ren, because even if he did have a dragon at his beck and call, the mirror is covered. Then, of course, he notices the crowbar. And Asakura continues to look at him, searching for something that Shinji is apparently giving him.

“Pathetic.” Abruptly, Asakura lets go again. “You used to be fun, Kido.” He stands, shouldering the crowbar like a baseball bat, and heads for the open bedroom door, only pausing briefly to say, “Call me if you ever decide to get the band back together, yeah?”

Shinji remains frozen for what seems like a long time after he’s gone, dizzy with memory and his heartbeat noisy in his own ears.

He doesn’t remember the end of things. None of the ends of things, actually, and he’s not sure if the others know that it happened more than once, how many times they were put through the same wringer. Whatever it was, though, whatever he or they finally did, it was permanent.

He never would have expected someone to resent him for it.

Finally he finds the focus to move, raising a hand to rub at the sore spots on his jaw before getting out of bed.

Miyuki’s bed is disturbed by unoccupied, and this fills him with a banked and indistinct dread until he comes to Ren’s room and finds them both there, Miyuki sprawled as inelegantly as always and snoring lightly at Ren’s side. Ren is awake, barely. “Bad dreams all around tonight, I guess,” he slurs as Shinji closes the door, and moves over to make space. “Wha’ was yours about?”

Shinji curls up beside him and says, softly, “Just ghosts.”

---

Takeshi strolls down the middle of the empty street, crowbar on his shoulder, in such a good mood now that he’s very nearly whistling. It’s a damp night; the streetlights make shadows in the fog that look like old friends he now remembers, any number of enormous beasts stalking him as he walks. Which makes him want to laugh, and so he laughs, and the sound bounces off the buildings and the fog in an echo that could go on forever.

“Goddamn,” he says to a fog-reflection that shifts and changes with every step he takes, now a vast snake, now a rhino, now a stingray. “That was a good time, wasn’t it.”

The fog makes no reply, but the shadow continues to follow him down the street as the echoes of his laughter die away, and after a moment, feeling almost jaunty, he starts to whistle.

#kido shinji #asakura takeshi #fanfiction #30 day shuffle challenge

[youngbloodlisk]

Lost Time // Lee Hyunjae

"But even more, I've missed..."

request: "he is needy but he forgot that you're on your period + after period s*x?"

- criminally short

- why the fuck was this so hard for me to write ?/!.$/???

- i apologize to my TOTAL SWEETHEART of a requester cause you deserve way better than this piece of shit

- but I promise I tried my very hardest

- which is maybe even more pathetic

- what warnings does this need

- fingering?

- implied fem rec oral

- protected sex bc wrap it up !!!

- this one ended up rlly tame

- some angst

- and smut of course

- plz stay safe and healthy as well, you sweetheart!!

"Please?" He looks at me with puppy eyes, which is an insane contradiction to what he's asking.

"Hyunjae, even if I wanted to, I can't. You know that. Do you really wanna deal with the mess?"

"Yes."

I scoff at him.

"Don't let your dick talk for you."

He sighs with a hint of defeat in his voice.

"... Ok, no. No, I don't."

"Exactly." I turn back to my phone, assuming the conversation is over.

... I'm wrong.

"How much longer will it be?"

"I only started yesterday." I roll my eyes lightheartedly.

"So... tomorrow?"

"Hyunjae!" I laugh, which only annoys him.

"What?!"

"I will tell you when." I lean over to place a soft kiss on his forehead. He pouts, but I can see in his eyes that he feels bad for begging like he did.

It's not his fault he has needs, but it's also not my fault that I'm on my period.

I cuddle into his side, both to reassure him that it's okay and to gain come comfort as my body begins to feel like it's being ripped apart (because it kind of is, to be fair).

A few days later, I can feel that Hyunjae is growing impatient, but he'd never tell me that.

I have to make him.

"Hyunjae?" I slowly step into our shared bedroom while he pulls on his tshirt, finishing up getting changed.

"Yeah, baby?"

"It's only gonna be a couple more days."

He realizes what the conversation topic is and sighs roughly.

"Yeah, whatever. A couple more days of nothing, I get it."

His tone is almost sarcastic, that's how much of a jerk he sounds like.

"What's with the sudden attitude?"

"No sex, I can understand. No eating you out, I can understand. But my girlfriend won't even give me a blowjob, so excuse me if I'm a little pissed."

Usually, I wouldn't respond in a hostile way... but with the way my stomach feels and the hormonal imbalances...

"Listen, don't think I don't wanna be satisfying my boyfriend, but when I'm fucking bleeding I don't really feel up to that. You can't even wait a few days without getting all whiney."

"Whiney?" He widens his eyes, very defensively.

"Have you even seen yourself?! At least I'm not moping around the house making someone else feel guilty for not satisfying me. I'm a little preoccupied getting punished for not making you a father. Would you rather we do that? Get me pregnant and you won't have this problem. Just a whole different one."

"You're being ridiculous! How hard is it to suck me off? Or give me a handjob? Anything like that?"

"Why is this suddenly an issue?! You've never been this needy when I'm on my period before, what's your issue now?"

"Sorry if I find my girlfriend attractive."

"You have a hand, asshole. Use it."

He rolls his eyes and I slam the bedroom door behind me, on my way to make dinner for the two of us.

Even if I can't stand him at the moment, I'm not gonna let him starve.

At least... not in two ways.

Finally, the day comes.

I toss out the last necessary cotton item of the month before taking a hot shower, making sure to shave in any places I want.

When I get out, I quickly dry off about 90% with a towel and proceed to wrap the towel around my body.

On the way from the bathroom to the bedroom, I pass Hyunjae in the short hall.

I only say one word as I walk straight into the bedroom, not even glancing at him.

"Green light."

He stops dead in his tracks.

"Hey, wait-" He follows me into the room, where I'm tossing my clothes into the dirty hamper. "Seriously?"

"Do you think I'd be kidding?"

"Well... no. I just didn't know you were still gonna tell me after that fight."

"I said I would tell you, right? I'm a woman of my word."

"Right..." He stands there by the doorway, just staring at me. I stand by the bed, just staring at him.

"You gonna stand there and look like an idiot or are you gonna take this towel off me?"

His posture straightens at my boldness and his eyes fulfill with an excitement that, honestly, almost looks childlike.

A smile spreads across Hyunjae's face.

The fight is all but forgotten.

Within a couple minutes, I'm laying underneath my boyfriend. Our lips move in sync together, and his clothed body presses and grinds into my naked one. His hands wander quickly.

You can definitely tell he's been waiting for this moment for a week and he is not in the mood to go slow.

His fingers lightly press against my clit and a small groan leaves me.

"I've missed that..." I whisper into his lips.

"Me too... but even more, I've missed..." Hyunjae trails off as his fingers go lower and feel the growing wetness. Two of them push into me.

I grip the back of his shirt and whine at the feeling.

"Fuck, baby, don't do that... you'll have me cumming in my shorts..."

He pumps his fingers, but it's easy to tell that he desperately wants to be inside me.

Being the thoughtful guy he is, however, he continues to make sure I'm totally ready first.

I appreciate the sentiment, but I think he's also forgetting that I haven't felt him inside me in over a week now.

"Hyunjae, please just fuck me." His fingers halt and he gives me a look that says...

Wow, that was so fucking hot. I just got 10x harder within two seconds, if that's even possible.

I feel cold air and absence when he pulls his fingers out and moves to take off his clothes.

I lay back and wait for him to strip completely, finally matching me.

He rolls on a condom, catching me looking his naked body up and down in the process.

"Glad to know you still like what you see." He comments as he gets into a position to line himself up with me.

He starts to rub his tip through my folds. He looks at me with a sweet, excited, and lustful smile.

"How could I not like it?" I can feel his ego rise and his hands hold my waist as he slides in slowly.

Hyunjae lays on me, holding up most of his weight with his arms sitting on either side of me, and pushes in as far as he can.

He starts to carefully rock his hips.

His deep moans are like soft music in my ear, only intensifying the pleasure.

His impatience starts to show again when he suddenly picks up his pace.

The knot in my stomach tightens more and more.

"Hyunjae..." I moan out his name, and he holds me close as he hits me as deep as he can go.

"Baby, I'm getting close." His shaky, breathy voice warns.

"Me too." My hand lightly claw at his back, feeling his back muscles flexing and feeling his body behind to shake ever-so-slightly.

My own body starts to tremble. My head presses back against the bed as the knot in my stomach unravels and I clench round him with a strong cry of pleasure.

"Just a bit more and I promise..." Hyunjae subtly apologizes, knowing that he'll start to overstimulate me a bit before he can release.

"It's okay, you're good." I give him some reassurance.

He holds his pace as best as he can, but gets jerky and inconsistent right before his collapses onto me and cums into the condom.

We lay and breathe for a moment, before he pulls out and rolls off of me to take off the condom, tie it, and toss it.

Once it lands in the nearby trash can, he turns to look at me.

"I love you." He sighs out, eyes now devoid of anything but adoration and love. I can't help but smile at the beautiful sight.

"I love you, too."

"I'm sorry for being an impatient bastard. I won't do it again."

"Oh please, with how horny you get? Yes, you will." I laugh lightly.

"Ok, maybe I shouldn't make promises... but I'll try."

"Good enough for me." I grab his hand and bring it up to my lips, placing a kiss on it.

"Isn't the guy supposed to kiss the girl's hand? Isn't that my job?"

"Sure, if you live in the past. If it's your job, then do it."

"Your hand isn't exactly my favorite place to kiss..." He props up on his elbow and leans down to press his lips against mine.

What was meant to be a sweet kiss does not last that way very long, however.

His lips end up leaving my lips and slowly traveling down my body. He kisses the whole way down until his eyes are looking up at me from between my legs.

It might be a long night...

Hyunjae says one last thing before his mouth meets my clit.

"We have to make up for lost time, right?"

#ciiikbwork #hyunjae smut #lee hyunjae smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #I'm sorry it took me this damn long #to get out something this damn short #and this shitty #im rlly so so sorry #I feel fucking awful this is so bad :(( #hopefully it's at least sort of satisfactory

[whumpingcrow]

Pt. 8 "Apartment Sweet Apartment"

CW: hospital setting, medical whump, injury description/mention, PTSD themes, past noncon/abuse mentions, tics/tourettes, death mention, strangling, panic attack, aftermath of noncon, August mention (let me know if i missed anything!)

Elias was incredibly vigilant and on edge the next twenty or so minutes, flinching and ducking away from doctors at every motion towards him, scrambling away from any instrument they shoved at him, afraid of any pain they inflict. Even after they repeatedly assured him that they weren't going to hurt him, they were only there to help, he couldn't help but cower away from them. It was understandable, and they were patient with him, considering the very last thing he remembered was being strangled to death by someone who had already hurt him more than should be possible. So of course he was afraid, he had every right to be, that's what they kept telling him. And even though he mostly believed it when they said he was safe now and he was thankful he was away from August, he couldn't help but wish for his small, comforting touches, or his reassurance that he was doing ok, or a slap across the face for speaking out of turn. What was wrong with him? He was finally away from the nightmare, he had literally died to get out of it, and he was disgusted in himself for even halfway wanting August to be there.

"Alright Elias, I'm just gonna get a quick look at your throat, ok?" One of the nurses asked, as she walked in. She didn't give him a second to prepare, her gloved hands already reaching for his neck. He shrunk away from her, even with the warning.

"Oh, sorry," he whispered, leaning back towards her.

"That's ok." Her fingers danced gently against his skin, and even though she was soft, his skin was tender enough for it to hurt. He let out a soft whine as she touched one particularly sensitive spot, trying with everything in him to not pull away from her. It was difficult, every bone in his body was screaming for the pain to be over, he couldn't stand another second of the exhausting aches and stings and burns. He felt like he might pass out if he had to feel another second of it. "How badly does it hurt, scale of one to ten?"

Before Elias could answer, there was an outcry at the door, and he looked up to see Tyson standing there, watching him with a look of mixed horror and relief. "Oh, Eli, you're ok!"

The nurse pulled away from him, excusing herself from the room with a promise to come check on him later. Elias looked down at his hands, choking on his tears already. Tyson approached him rather quickly, frowning when he flinched back.

"Sorry, sorry," he rushed, his voice softer now, "I'm just... God, I'm so glad you're alright." Every word he said was absolutely dripping in relief, but Elias felt like if he were to look up at him he would be able to tell that he was faking it.

"Yeah? Are you?" Elias shot back, keeping his head ducked. He knew, if this were August, he would be hit as soon as his tone was even the slightest bit off, and he relaxed a bit when he realized Tyson wasn't going to hit him.

"Of course I am, baby," Tyson whispered, rubbing his thumb against Elias's arm, "I was so fucking worried."

"Yeah, if Allen's nick name is 'worried' then you definitely were fucking worried."

Tyson was silent for a second, pulling his hand away. "What are you talking about?"

Elias huffed, shaking his head. He was in so much pain, he was so incredibly tired, everything was still in ruins even though he was away from August. He wished they didn't save him, that way he could have just escaped all of this new turmoil. "I don't want to see you. Please get out."

"What? No, Elias please. Please don't shut me out, let me be here for you." Tyson grabbed his hand, frowning when Elias gasped in pain and pulled away. He didn't notice the horrible bruising and swelling, and he only took it to heart when Elias jumped away from his touch. "Elias why are you upset with me?"

Elias was really crying now, still refusing to look up at Tyson. He wanted so badly to be held, to find some sort of comfort in Tyson's arms, but he couldn't stop thinking about the pictures of him with Allen and all the harsh things August said about him. "I know you got rid of me to be with Allen. I saw the pictures."

"I didn't get rid of you, how could you say that? What pictures?"

Elias sobbed, shaking his head. His throat tightened at the pain the movement caused, and he wrinkled his nose as tears slipped down his cheeks. "Please get out. Please."

"Elias I swear I didn't do anything with Allen. Look at me." Elias shook his head again, so Tyson tried to make his tone softer, despite the panicked desperation he was feeling. "Eli please look at me."

Tyson looked so tired. His eyes were darkened by sleeplessness and his clothes were a mess and he was staring at Elias with a sad hope to his gaze, a hope that Elias had lost some time ago. He cried harder, which only hurt his throat and chest more. "I was so scared." He heard himself whimper. "I was so scared and you weren't going to save me and I just wanted to die, Tyson. I want it to stop."

"I know, love," Tyson hushed, placing his hand against Elias's cheek and swiping his tears, overjoyed when he let him, "I'm so sorry I couldn't help you." Elias frowned when he saw that Tyson was also crying.

"He told me you gave me up so Allen would be safe. He showed me pictures of you hugging him." He sniffled a little, groaning when he ticced. Tyson was quick to grab onto his wrist softly, stroking his skin gently to calm him down. This was the comfort Elias missed so badly, Tyson knew how to calm him down in almost unnoticeable ways instead of just allowing him to flail about like August did.

"That's not true. Elias, I didn't spend a single waking minute doing anything but worry for you and try to help find you." He leaned closer as he spoke, trying to get Elias to open up to him, to drop some of the tension from his shoulders and turn toward him fully. "Nothing happened. August lied to you."

Elias looked him over, at the way his hand fit loosely around his wrist, the tears cutting down his dark cheeks. Everything about him was begging for Elias to trust him, his face and posture screaming "You have to believe me, you have to."

"You promise?" He finally whispered. His voice was so soft and close to the edge of cracking that Tyson sighed heavily at the absolute brokenness of the question.

"I promise baby. I swear." He was flooded with relief as Elias leaned toward him, resting his head against Tyson's shoulder. He stayed still, not wanting to move and scare him away, but he was insanely pleased at the touch. Elias was ok, he was alive, and he was touching him.

When Elias was allowed to leave the hospital, he ended up back at Tyson's place. It was clean, with some Christmas lights strung up despite it hardly being fall, and bouquets of flowers scattered around. Elias sat on the couch, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"It looks pretty in here," he remarked, his voice quiet and nervous. Tyson offered up a friendly smile as he set his things down before moving to sit next to Elias.

"All these flowers are for you. People kept dropping them off." He took Elias's hand in his own, as if he was afraid that if he wasn't touching him he would have a meltdown.

Elias nodded, chewing on his lip nervously. He stared hard at the lights because he could feel Tyson's eyes on him and he felt like if he looked back at him he would see contempt. Or maybe disappointment. He wasn't Allen, he had unfortunately survived and now he was a burden to him again. He wasn't wanted here, he could almost feel it, in the way that Tyson grudgingly sat by his side and held his hand, like he was putting on a show of his affection.

"You alright love? You're so quiet." Tyson's voice was honeyed, coated with a layer of artificial sugar. It reminded Elias of August, when he would use that sickly sweet tone as he said something horrible. It almost sounded like a compliment when he called him an idiot, like a poem when he told him no one but August cared about him, he sounded genuinely loving when he told Elias he looked better bruised and bloody than when he was ok.

"I need to use the bathroom," Elias whispered, pulling his hands away from him as he staggered to his feet. He bit back a whine at the pain that shot through every atom of his body, his head fuzzy from standing up. His vision was darkening and his head was spinning again, it caused an almost familiar anxiety to grab at him. He was being strangled, he was going to die, he could see August's face as his vision faded to black, he was dead. Elias was dead.

He felt arms around him as he swayed, and he couldn't help but clutch at Tyson's clothes as he gasped in panicked breaths. He didn't realize he'd started sobbing hard until Tyson was trying to calm him down. "Hey, hey," he hummed, rubbing his back, "you're ok, love. It's ok."

"I don't want to die!" Elias cried, and he really meant it, even though he didn't earlier, even though earlier he was peacefully accepting the warm blanket of death. "I'm so scared, Tyson! I don't want to die anymore!"

Tyson pulled him back onto the couch and sat him down, holding him close against his chest. "You're safe, Elias. I've got you, you're gonna be alright. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." He stroked Elias's back gently, then his hair, then pulled away to look at his tear stained face. "It's over now, baby. No one's going to hurt you anymore." He was whispering now, gentle and quiet with his fragile Elias.

Elias sniffled, searching Tyson's face for something. When he seemed to find it, he closed his eyes and nestled his head against his shoulder to find comfort. It felt so good to be held so gently, without the looming threat of pain or fear. "Death is so scary, Ty. It's so dark and it feels like...like the world just swallows you whole. It's so scary."

Tyson was quiet now, merely holding Elias and allowing him to speak. "I was so angry that the last thing I was gonna see was his stupid fucking face and I tried to look out the window but I...I..."

"Elias, listen to me," he ran his hands over Elias's small frame, pleased to feel his breathing had slowed a little. "No one's gonna hurt you anymore. I'm here, I'm not gonna let anyone touch you." He sighed, and Elias sat up to look up at him, sniffling softly. Tyson reached up to wipe his tears, moving slowly so he wouldn't freak him out all over again. "I hate to see you so scared and hurt. I just wanna hide you away and make you all better."

"God, I missed you. I didn't realize how much I missed you cause I thought you hated me." Elias timidly reached up to take Tyson's face in his hand gently, sighing at the forgotten familiarity. "Oh, Tyson. You're so perfect. How could I forget..." He trailed off as Tyson's hands dropped comfortably to his waist. This was familiar too, but in a sicker, more upsetting way. This touch was less innocent, it had hidden motives that Elias knew all too well by now. He didn't want that pain anymore, he didn't want to be praised and fawned over when it was only going to hurt in the end anyway. It didn't feel good when he was sober, at least when he was high he couldn't feel the pain. But now he was sober, and in a gruesome amount of pain, and Tyson was touching him in that way that meant he was going to take what he wanted any second and Elias knew he wasn't supposed to argue or it would be worse but he didn't know if he could stomach any more pain-

"What is it?" Tyson asked him, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. Elias was surprised to feel he had started trembling, and when he did realize, he ticced. "Hey, you're ok. What are you thinking about?"

"I...I really wanted my first time to be with you," he choked out, looking away from Tyson. He was ashamed, he felt used up and disgusting and discarded, why would Tyson want him now? "Or at least someone who cares about me. I mean really cares about me, not a liar like August."

Tyson frowned at him, realizing what he was trying to tell him, that August took his virginity. He must've not known about the couple videos they were sent, the gut wrenching ones fill with sobbing and pleading and typically a fair amount of blood. Tyson's heart broke for him, he hated that August had to be the introduction to all of it, that his first experience with sex was tainted by violence and deceit and pain, not love or lust or understanding. The more he thought back to those videos, the more it shattered him, ate him alive. Elias was an innocent and clueless little lamb and August was a relentless, bloodthirsty wolf. It was nothing short of a slaughter, every video. He wondered if, almost hoped, Elias was treated differently outside of them. For his sake, he wished that August had at least shown him an inkling of softness every now and then.

"I'm so sorry he ruined that for you, Eli." It was all he could manage to say, and it hardly came out in one piece over the thick hatred and disgust for August he felt. He pulled him back to his chest, placing soft kisses into his hair. "Maybe one day, when you're all healed, I'll show you how it's supposed to be."

Elias hummed softly, his fingers tugging at the buttons on Tyson's shirt mindlessly. "Yeah, I'd like that I think."

"Ok," Tyson sighed pointedly, "what do you wanna do? Are you hungry?"

"Uh... Can you just hold me for a bit longer please?" Elias whispered. Tyson nodded, his grip tightening.

#whump fic #whump community #whump #whump writing #whump tropes #whumpblr #whump prompt #whumpee #captivity whump #whump ideas #emotional whump #whump scenario #whump blog #whumper #caretaker #whump stuff #whump scenes #whump oc #whump dialogue #whump aftermath #whump comfort #whump concept #whump character #whump mention #whump reference #whump series #whump story #whump tag #whump tw #whump things

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 As your boyfriend | BNHA Headcanons 』

From the good, to the bad, to the downright adorable.

Characters: female!reader, Aizawa Shouta

Tags/warnings: Boku No Hero Academia (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, smut, fluff, soft dom Aizawa, relationship, headcanons

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Right, so I'm simping for this man biG TIME, but I'm only on season 3, so no spoilers or anything, please. This is my first BNHA post (and it turned out way longer than I was intending 😅) Please let me know if you want more in the future!

Also, I have a repetitive strain injury, so typing stuff is taking a while at the moment. Sorry about that. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ ~Imo

☆ Aizawa Shouta ☆

I'm not going to lie. Shouta can be a big ol' grouchy pants sometimes, and it's basically impossible to win an argument against him makes you want to tear your hair out, sometimes

But most of the time, he's just tired and in pain, and he doesn't mean to be so crotchety

He's not the type to make excuses, though. That's childish. He means his apologies, even if they're simple

He'll normally initiate an apology by gently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his forehead on your shoulder 🥺

Physical contact is incredibly personal and intimate for him. He doesn't just touch anyone, or allow them to touch him

You're special 💞💫

Soft, gentle touches, like his fingers interlacing with yours, or his leg brushing up against you, are basically his way of saying 'I love you'

Catch me crying in the corner, a'ight? 😔

He rarely ever raises his voice. Like, ever he doesn't need to, and is aware that it can be scary

He's definitely the kind of guy to forget to tell people that you're dating, simply because he doesn't see how it's relevant or anyone else's business 🤦‍♀️

I mean, he ain't wrong, but–

And his mood switches between 'antisocial' and 'clingy' like a mechanical metronome did someone say 'cat'?

Sometimes, you'll be lucky if he speaks more than three words to you together in a whole day nothing personal 🤷‍♀️

But on other days, he literally won't let you out of his arms for the world he's complicated, okay?

You have missed many a parcel delivery because he wouldn't let you get up from his lap to answer the door 🙄😂

Boundaries and responsibilities are key and highly respected by Shouta, and he would NEVER erase your quirk without your permission, unless he literally had no other choice like someone's going to get hurt, or something

Is generally quite serious so what's new? but you're one of the few people he can relax around when he feels like it

9/10 of his jokes are dad jokes 😎 hell yeah

Takes a hard stance in financial debates, but is constantly broke af 😶 says he'll buy you dinner and presents you with some instant noodles with a 'Reduced To Clear' sticker on them

Will take a bite of your food/steal some off your plate without asking, and literally say nothing to defend himself #gremlin

Is incredibly shy and uncomfortable about being ~le horny~ until you've been together for literally forever

Even then, he's still shy about it when he has to bring it up and it's pretty cute, let me tell ya

It took him forever to admit to you that he gets turned on when you eat ice lollies

Guess what you do whenever you want to mess with him like a little brat 😛

But if he's in the mood, he will 100% whisper something dirty in your ear, even if you're completely alone and probably well past third base

He does it because he knows your pussy will clamp around him at the sound of his voice 😳🥵

*fans self profusely*

Genuine, unadulterated smiles are rare with Aizawa, but when he does 🙌 Heaven hath opened its gates and allowed an angel walk amongst mere mortals 🥺🤧

If he lays his head on your chest, he will fall asleep like that *snaps fingers*

Surprise nose and forehead kisses to show he loves you ❤

Calls you 'Kitten' this is basically already canon at this point

And he's all about those deep talks with you at 3 am when he can't sleep

Speaking of insomnia!

It's cheesy, but you're like a soothing balm. The warmth of your body makes him feel safe, your touch helps him relax, and your voice soothes him to sleep

He's never slept as well as when you're beside him 😭🤧

When cuddling, he likes to be the big spoon but will accept being the little spoon if you if you press your boobs against his back and ask really nicely 🤭

And he loves you stroking his hair and running your fingers through it 🥺

Netlix nights and pillow/blanket forts!!

Rainy days are a godsend. Staying inside all day under the blankets, with the soft sound of the rain falling outside and no-one to interrupt you – literal paradise

He makes mean hot cocoas and Irish coffees 😋 I feel like this man lives off Irish coffees 😂🤣

Wears a lot of black and grey sweatpants at home 😗 which highlight the outline of his dick just right, if ya know what I'm sayin' 👀

Doesn't like going out for dates and prefers staying inside and doing stuff together same, honeyy

But if you really like going out, he will somewhat begrudgingly agree to it and get all dressed up for you, just so long as he gets his fair share of home-dates, too 🤗

But if you also don't like going out... the two of you will basically never leave the house, except to get groceries in your pyjamas from the 24-hour convenience store down the road at one in the morning oddly specific, I know, but you get me

And sorry, but I don't make the rules

Well, actually, I do. But shush

We all know that Shouta cleans up *chef's kiss* So when you go somewhere ~fancy~ he always looks so damn fine 😩

But he has very little idea that he's hot he sees himself as a tired, walking dumpster fire🚶‍♂️🔥

Shouta will 100% turn into a crazy cat dude with 15+ cats if you don't stop him I never said you should, though 🙃

And is a 'minimalist texter' – basically, if he can't answer a text with 'yes', 'no,' 'maybe', or 'OK', then he probably won't answer it at all 😭😂

Especially if you try and sext him or send him your nudes while he's at work. He'll probably lecture you when he gets home and depending on just how much you turned him on, he might proceed to teach you a lesson...

But wear his shirt, and just his shirt or his hoodie and he's yours

Heart eyes, motherfucker 😍

And, depending on how you two are feeling that day, you may or may not end up getting dicked down on the nearest semi-flat surface right then and there 👀

But don't misunderstand. This is an incredibly tired man you have here, and his libido actually isn't through the roof sorry, ladies so this kind of thing isn't an everyday occurrence

But when he dicks you down, he dicks you down goooood

Shouta's not big on PDA, but makes up for it in private. We're talking hands and kisses all over your body he leaves nothing unloved 😏

And while he's not big on PDA, he is big on sneaky displays of affection or 'SDA', as I like to call it

Like subtly grabbing your butt for a second, or his hand on your thigh under the table at a dinner etc. especially around other people

But what really gets him going is slowly removing your clothes and taking you fully naked, spreading your legs wide and holding them open he likes the view 😍

He lowkey highkey worships your body 🙏 and will literally not shut up about how fucking pretty you are, and how fucking good it feels inside you his words, not mine 😳

Groans and growls a little when he's getting close/cumming especially when he's being a little rough and likes to cum together, but knows it's not always practical

He tends to be a gentle dom, but can get just a teensy bit 🤏 rough if he's too into it – but nothing outrageous

We're talking rough thrusts and a brutal pace, maybe holding onto you a little too hard and, waaahh, he gets so embarrassed if he leaves bruises

Is also into a little bondage, but again, only light stuff – restraining your wrists with his hands or his tie or his Capturing Weapon 👀 maybe blinding-folding you if you're okay with it

If you're not blindfolded, then I'm afraid he's all about that eye contact

Eating out your pussy? Eye contact. Pounding you into the mattress? Blazing eye contact. Rearranging your guts in front of the mirror? Fucking eye contact

And CONSENT, BABY. THAT'S WHAT HE'S FUCKING INTO 😌🙌💞

But all jokes aside – he's too used to taking without consent with his quirk, that he's kind of paranoid about it comes to sex but it's adorable and sweet, and honestly, still kind of hot

And speaking of eating pussy – goddamn does he like to please you. Like cream to a kitty 😛

Oh, and he just loves it when you suck on his fingers as he's pounding into you 🤤

And he likes to leave love bites in personal, inconspicuous places and sometimes on your neck

He's marking his woman 😌

When he gets suuuper horny, he likes to fuck you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror. It's a specific kink he has of watching himself stretch you out as the length of his cock disappears inside you...

I can get behind that, lemme tell yaaa

I said he tends to be dominant, but female doms – fear not!

Shouta is quite flexible when it comes down to it and is kind of lazy, lmfao so he definitely has time for laying back, having the control taken away, and having his dick ridden

For him, it's really all about communication and what you're both comfortable with

I will say this, though: sometimes, his cat watches you while you're banging 😅😂

The first time it happened, you freaked out and refused to continue because – how could you??? But eventually, you just kind of got used to it 🤷‍♀️

The same way you've got used to it following you to the bathroom every time you go to take a shit 😭

So now, you just kind of laugh about it, which helps keep things a little lighter 🤗

After sex, he does like to snuggle, but you'll be lucky if he stays awake for more than 30 seconds it's one of the few times he actually can sleep well

If you're ever out and about, or even inside, and cold, he'll wrap you up in his clothes/scarf/blanket like a sushi roll like Eren wrapping up Mikasa in his scarf, all deadpan and everything 😐

It's not that often, but when he gets drunk, he gets all soft and emotional, and starts babbling about how he can't believe he got so lucky to be dating you, and that he's sure he hasn't done anything to deserve it mah heart

He's pretty sure he wants kids, but he doesn't feel like now is the right time, and is lowkey afraid that it's never going to feel like the right time

He also constantly doubts himself, wondering if he'd actually able to look after them and protect them the way a father should class 1-A got him second-guessing himself 🥺

Besides, it's not all about him. You clearly have a say in it too, and he doesn't want to force you into anything

Again: communication and comfort zones

Dating Aizawa definitely has its ups and downs, and it's not smooth sailing, but he's prepared to work for a life with you because he's found a connection with you that he hasn't feel with anyone else

He knows that you're both far from perfect, but hopes that, for once, you might just make something good, and make it last 🥰😇

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

#imo chan imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #aizawa shouta #headcanons #smut #aizawa shouta headcanons #aizawa shouta smut #reader x aizawa shouta #reader x aizawa shouta headcanons #reader x aizawa shouta smut #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x reader headcanons #aizawa shouta x reader smut #aizawa shouta x you #you x aizawa shouta

[g0ldengubler]

chapter 5~the aftermath

(*i do not own this gif*)

A/N:

Category: fluff

CW: other than talking about weed and sex, it’s just pure fluff :)

Word Count: 2493

before you read | last chapter | next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Don't make me say it again, angel. I can ruin you just by touching you and you know that."

"Yes, daddy!"

Spencer hovered over you, smirking as he continued to thrust inside you. You're tied up to his bed, all ankles and all wrists. He chokes you as he endlessly pounds you into the mattress, making you feel light headed yet your body is full of pleasure. You try to scream but nothing can come out. Spencer can tell you're close as your pussy clenches around his cock repeatedly.

"You wanna cum, princess? Does daddy's little girl want to cum all over his cock, hm?" Spencer asks. You try to answer him but he cuts you off.

"Beg." He growls as he lets go of your throat.

"Please daddy, please let me cum all over your cock! I can't hold it any longer PLEASE!" you scream. You can feel his cock twitch, knowing that he was close, too, "I need your cum daddy!"

He smirks again, giving a little chuckle as he leans in. "Cum for me, angel," he says harshly in your ear, "And don't be shy about it. I want to hear you as you feel my cum shoot inside you."

As he moves away from your ear and to the crook of your neck, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You scream even louder as you cum, mixing with his growls. "Yes baby, just like that...oh fUCK!"...

———————————

A thud from the other side of you jolts you from your slumber. You quickly turn around to the right of you and see nothing but a bent elbow popping out from the side of the bed. Spencer must've went to the bathroom at some point during the night, because his bedroom door was left open, letting sunlight shine through the room, hurting your eyes in the process. You get on all fours and crawl to the other side of the bed and level yourself higher to see if he was ok.

"You good?" you ask him, trying to hold back a laugh.

Spencer looks up at you, rubbing the back of his head. He had thrown on a pair of gray sweatpants and his top half was completely bare, showing off his body and, to your surprise, some muscle was showing. Nothing like Morgan's, but they were there, and looked really good on him with his long hair. The two of you just stare in silence for a few moments as you cover your mouth to not only help the laughing urges, but also because you couldn't believe you looked down at the sweatpants. A small part of you was hoping that he got morning wood or something.

"Yeah, my ass hurts, though." He chuckles.

You reach out for your hand and he takes it, pulling him up from the floor and lay back in bed. You lay facing each other, his hand being used to prop him up. He looks at you as if he's content with where his life is right now. You look into his eyes and see that he's comfortable, as if the two of you have known each other for years and this was something normal.

"Hi." Spencer says, looking down at you.

You were laying on your right arm, hands in fists underneath your chin, holding on to the comforter like a stuffed animal.

"Hi."

He reaches out with his right arm and moves a strand of hair from your face. "Did you sleep good?"

"Yeah, being high can make that happen," you chuckle, "Did you?"

"I haven't slept that good in a long time, and I thought sleeping after a finished case was the best."

You smile as he softly laughs at himself. Something about him made you have butterflies in your stomach. The smallest things he was doing made you feel something you couldn't put a finger on, as if there wasn't a name to it.

"Would you like some waffles?" Spencer asks softly.

You nod your head. You were never really a breakfast person, especially after that incident you had when you were five after puking in the middle of the movie theater from the pancakes you ate before hand. But waffles were special to you. Your father would make them every Sunday morning before going to the video store to grab a few dvd's for the movie night you'd have that night.

"Don't worry, I can make them." You said as you got out of bed and started to try to find your clothes.

Spencer hurries to his drawers and grabs you one of his Caltech shirts. "Ok 1.I folded your clothes and put them out in the living room, but wear this for now if you'd like. And 2.You don't have to do that, I don't mind making them. After all, it is my apartment."

"1. You're very sweet, thank you. And 2.True, but I don't think you'd want to miss out on my dad's special, homemade waffles."

He grins in excitement, curious as to what made the waffles so special.

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

"You were right, I'm glad I didn't miss out on these," Spencers says as he chews on his last bite, "these are amazing, Y/N!"

"Well thank you, kind sir!" You say in a funny British accent before taking a sip of the tea he made for you. Thank god he had your favorite, black tea. You were very vanilla when it came to the treats and drinks you liked, but you didn't care.

Spencers giggles a bit after swallowing, grabbing his coffee mug. The two of you were silent for awhile. He was reading one of his books that he got from his shelves as you looked around at the forest green walls of his apartment. You started to daydream about last night. The way he was so dominant with you, making you feel like you were his and only his. To touch, to feel, to hold. What were you guys now? You had just met a week ago and went from working on a case to getting high with Dr.Spencer Reid and fucking with him. It all happened so fast, you're just now feeling it like jet lag. You felt yourself shrivel up into a ball on the inside. You knew you had to talk about the past couple of nights, and you could tell that Spencer knew it, too.

"Spence, we need to talk." You say quietly.

He sets his coffee mug down on the table, looking down at the mug. "Yeah," he says, his eyes moving up to yours, "we do."

"What are we now," you ask, "We just met a week ago and already we did stuff that normally would happen after knowing each other for awhile. I enjoyed all of that, don't get me wrong, but...I don't know. Maybe what we have doesn't need a title." You look back to him in silence, the feeling of guilt and selfishness covering your entire body. "If you don't want to continue with any of this and just start being friends, as if none of this had happened, I'm tot-"

"That's the last thing I want to do," He reaches out across the table with both hands and holds yours into his, "Y/N, I really enjoyed these past two nights as well. I've never had a connection like this before, let alone do any kind of drug. I usually try to stay away from it because of my eidetic memory, but for some reason, I really, really loved getting high with you. I would like to continue what we have. Whether we use labels or not, we could be friends with benefits if you wanted to as well. I don't think I want this to end, and we've clicked since we met in the conference room."

You smiled at him. You didn't think he'd want to continue with you, let alone continue to be your friend. No one wanted to be your friend growing up, and the one friend you did have wasn't really the one to do the normal things friends do. Instead, they would go on and on and on about all the history facts they knew and never really valued you. Most of the time, they'd use you and ignore you, making fun of your love for wanting to stop the bad guys. Spencer was showing you different, however. He was listening to you, speaking back to your sentences. It was all so new coming from another person that wasn't your dad.

"Especially when it's with a pretty girl like you." He mumbles to himself as he raises his mug to his lips.

"What was that last part?" You ask.

"Hm?" He pretends to not know what you were talking about and you knew that, so you didn't push anymore.

"Well, since we both enjoy with what we have going on, I agree to a friends with benefits relationship with you," you said grabbing your tea, "but we have to keep it from the team. God, if they knew, all hell would break loose."

"Yeah, and Garcia isn't one for keeping secrets. Trust me, we had a new member several years ago and she only told Hotch and Morgan that she was pregnant. When she saw her glowing, Garcia grabbed her wrist and brought her into the conference room where she kinda made her announce to the rest of us."

You almost spit out your tea as you hold in a laugh. Even with this short amount of time, you could already tell that Garcia was just a bundle full of rainbows and unicorns and excitement, so much so she could never contain it. But the fact that she innocently made someone give this big announcement out when she probably wasn't ready to do so yet, that was something that didn't shock you fully, but did a little bit.

Spencer grabs both of your plates and brings them to the sink. He sits back down and takes another sip of his coffee. "How about we talk about it over lunch today," he asks, "There's a popular diner just a couple blocks from here that people are raving about. Says they treat their costumers like family, even if it's your first time there."

Before you could say yes, your phone rings. You pick it up and see that the caller ID was none other than your father. Spencer tells you he's going in the shower as you press the green button and put the phone up to your ear.

"Hey dad!"

"Hey, pumpkin! How's Dave and the team treating you?"

"Great! They welcomed me in right away, even though we were on a case. They treat each other like family, it's nice to have when you're surrounded by death."

"Yeah, I saw on the news. I'm so proud of you, you know that right? And I'm so glad that they're taking good care of you. I did call Dave on your first day to make sure of it."

"Dad!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I had to."

You then tell him about what happened after the case. Not everything, obviously, but you did tell him that you and Spencer really connected at Garcia's place and became really good friends after the case was over. You hear the shower turn off as you sit on the couch. Your father then asks you something, and you couldn't wait to tell Spencer. He ends it by telling you to have a good lunch with Spencer along with, "If that boy hurts you-" but you cut him off telling him not to worry, "He wouldn't even hurt a fly unless it was a serial killer."

"Alright honey, call me when you can ok? I love you."

"Love you, too Dad. Bye."

As you hang up, Spencer walks out with a towel wrapped around his waist, another smaller one running through his hair to dry. You look at him, speechless.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." He jokes.

"I might take you up on that offer," you say, "but maybe they'd be of me to send to you."

You wink at him. He then laughs and throws his wet hair towel at you. You throw it back, laughing along with him.

"So, your dad called?" He asked as he walked to his room to change.

"Yeah, he just wanted to make sure I was ok after the case and made sure that Rossi was treating me well along with the rest of you."

"Your father seems like a good man!" He says loudly.

"Yeah, he is. Thank god for that and for the fact I don't have any daddy issues."

"That's not what it looked like last night." He walks in wearing a tannish brown, grandpa-like cardigan with a maroon undershirt. His pants were a darker brown, darker like chocolate, and he paired it with his black converse. You grab a pillow from behind you and threw it at him and he throws it back, the laughter from before continuing.

"Be glad I called you sir and not daddy last night. I usually say daddy but only because it brings out the dominant personality during sex. I also have a theory that it also gives the guy a confidence boost. But I was respectful because we just met and I didn't know how'd you feel about it."

Spencer sits next to you, elongating his arm behind you, resting it on the top of the couch. "I mean," he begins, "I wouldn't mind being called daddy. I've only had sex a few times before this, but last night was completely different. I've never been like that before, ever. But I kind of liked it. Makes want to experiment more."

You smile at him, letting the feeling of embarrassment wash away. You always felt so insecure about that, especially because sometimes it gets a bad rep. But you loved being submissive way too much to let it sting you.

"Hey, Spence?"

"What's up?"

"Would you like to take a road trip to my dad's cabin in Michigan for the weekend?"

He thinks for moment, and as he does, you help convince him.

"No, my dad won't be there. But I think it'd be great to take advantage of it and use it as a way to get to know each other more. Maybe we could even go by the dispo's there and grab some things to pass the time..."

"Oh, now I'm in!"

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