#no one gets to reblog this because i don't want this to leave my bubble

[arminsumi]

★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#do u think if u ran ur fingers thru his hair he'd purr? 🤔 #fluff #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #x reader #jjk fic #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo

[reiderwriter]

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

#kinktober 2023 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #hate sex #enemies to lovers

[reginaofdoctorwho]

not to be an asshole but even if you grew up with abusive parents there is a point where you have to recognize that and realize maybe the reason people don't like u is because you are a shithead whose "jokes" are just at the expense of others

#please do not reblog #but this is specifically because my brother acted like an asshole to our niece and was borderline #gaslighting her to the point she was almost crying #she's 3yo just for reference #and then tried to turn it into her just being too sensitive when my mom made him leave over it #and now my mom's feeling guilty about it because she he's acting just like our dad (abusive) and she thinks it's her fault #which is bullshit because for one thing he had her example. and for another we didn't live in a bubble #he had teachers he had friends he was in boy scouts #he had countless examples of good people and he had the example of our dad #who my mom divorced and whose children mainly don't speak to him (2 or 3/10) #maybe out of 9 since we have a dead sister #should i count her? either way majority have gone no contact w him #also i chose to believe god himself punished my brother for hitting his son a couple weeks ago #because he hit his son->next day ex has custody-> next day after that his leg gets broken #i don't pray often anymore but god pulled through on this #i wanted him to suffer and he still is #anyway his ex is great good on her for getting out before they were married #idr where i was going w this post

[withleeknow]

hiya! I noticed you have your requests open and if you don't mind, could I please suggest: "for once... I was right" with "don't you dare walk away from me" for Lee Know - maybe angsty but I don't mind you just going with the flow.

thank you!

blue hour.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: exes au, exes to ...? 🫢, angst; minho's pov mostly, open ending kinda, some light cursing, unedited don't look at me word count: 2.2k (i got carried away a little bit) listen to 🎧: breathe again - sara bareilles

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

“this should be the last of your things.”

“thanks,” you say, rummaging through the box that minho hands over to you. everything that you left at his place throughout the entire time you were together; every sweatshirt of yours in his closet, every piece of jewelry on his nightstand, every bottle of nail polish that you kept in his bathroom reserved for nights where you two would pamper each other. they're all here, except for... “did you see my red scarf though? i can’t find it anywhere.”

“no, i checked,” he says. “this is everything.”

“hmm, okay.”

you hold the box between your arms, and minho can’t help but feel something twist painfully in his chest. it’s like you're holding your relationship, or what’s left of it anyway, ready to make your swift exit from his life. two years of love, all dumped into one stupid cardboard box.

you both stand there in silence for what feels like forever, just staring at each other, then at your surroundings, neither of you saying anything. minho knows why he hasn’t bid you a farewell goodnight yet; it’s because he doesn’t want this to end. even though it’s a sad occasion, the finale to your story, he still wants to the seconds to stretch on, for the minutes to last longer. after all, isn’t this the last time he'll ever see you?

why you haven’t left him to his devices and gone upstairs, he isn’t sure.

another moment passes. life goes on but it seems like you two are in your own bubble where nothing moves forward. everything stays rooted to the spot.

“do you want to go for a walk?” you ask after a while. the question surprises minho enough that he lets it show, and it makes you quickly tack on an excuse. “the weather is nice and i... i don’t want to be on my own.”

yes, he does want to go for a walk with you. anything to be with you even if it’s only for a moment longer.

“sure,” he says. “let’s go for a walk.”

“okay. i’ll leave this upstairs and get my jacket.”

he watches as you disappear inside your building, only to reemerge momentarily afterward, a wool jacket draped over your frame. he wishes you’d worn something lighter, just so he could have an excuse to wrap his arm around your shoulders if it gets colder.

you walk side by side around your neighborhood, a distance between your bodies that never used to be there before. it’s strange, of course it is. but minho supposes this is yours and his new reality now.

“how are the cats?” you ask.

“they’re okay. dori had a cold a couple weeks ago, but everything’s fine now,” he tells you. “they... they miss you.”

i miss you too - that's a thought that he doesn’t say out loud, only keeps it to himself because it feels too humiliating to utter those words to you.

“they’re cats. how can you tell?”

“i can always tell.” he shrugs. “they wait by the door when i’m already home. they sleep on your-... they sleep on the other side of the bed.”

if you notice his slip up, you don’t say anything. you purse your lips and nod somberly, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “they’ll forget about me soon enough,” you say.

minho glances at you. he wants to rebuke that statement, to argue with you over something as silly as whether or not his freaking cats will retain their memories of you in the future. but he just bites his tongue and swallows down the lump in his throat, humming to let you know that he’s heard what you said. not a hum of agreement, just one of acknowledgement.

“how’s work?” he asks. god, it’s just so fucking weird to be asking you these things. you know each other inside and out and yet, you’re here making small talk.

torn apart when all you two should be is together.

“it’s alright. still the same, kinda boring. you know there’s not a lot that can happen in that place in one month.”

yes, because it’s been a little over a month since you parted ways, since you moved back into your old apartment and left his home perpetually cold and empty. he can’t blame you for leaving when he was the one who agreed to break up. he can’t blame you for his heartache when he was the one who broke your heart first.

he didn’t mean to, but isn’t that what they all say?

“do you still want to leave?”

“sure,” you reply. “if i can find something better, i’d leave that place in a heartbeat. but for now, it’ll have to do. it used to be a bit more bearable though.”

“i hope you find something that makes you happier.”

“thanks.” you give him a smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. “how about you? how’s life?”

minho almost says the first thing that comes into mind. life is terrible without you. i think about you every single minute of every day but you're not here and it’s my own damn fault.

he could lie and come up with something much more palatable, because he doesn’t reckon his truth is something you’d like to hear right now.

but he doesn’t want to lie to you. in the time that you were together, minho never lied to you, not even once, not even over something stupid and insignificant. beside, he’s got a feeling that you would see through his bullshit anyway.

his answer ends up being a sad shrug, then, “it’s life. i’m hanging in there.”

your footsteps slow until you stop completely. this makes him stop too, turning around to look at you with his head tilted to one side, confused.

“it’s not like you to sound so defeated,” you comment.

“what?” he asks with a sigh. “it’s the truth.”

“it’s not the whole truth.”

“what do you want me to say?”

“i want you to be honest with me,” you tell him, your shoulders slumping just slightly. “i still care about you. i want to know you’re okay.”

minho takes a step closer until he’s right in front of you, the closest that you two have been all night. his body feels the warmth radiating from yours but he has to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching you.

“if you really want to know, i haven’t been myself since you left.”

guilt flashes in your eyes. it wasn’t his intention at all.

you bite your bottom lip, inhale a shaky breath, before you speak, “i’m sorry for leaving.”

“don’t apologize. i’m sorry for driving you away.”

then he watches the tears well up as you look at him. he’s been wondering this the whole night, how you seem so cavalier about it all, how you’re able to speak to him so casually as if you’re just old friends with some shared history, and not as though the wound is still fresh. he’s still bleeding and you’re acting like you’ve already healed.

but he sees it now. you’re just as sad as he is, just as miserable. the only difference is you’re better at hiding it, or maybe you’ve just had more time to get used to the way it hurts.

is this how you felt in the weeks, the months, leading up to your departure? every time he neglected you, prioritized something else over you, missed every date and overlooked every text message? every single instance where he was too busy for you?

he never wanted to break your heart, but alas, here you are.

he didn’t want you to go, and yet, when you felt like you couldn’t handle the loneliness anymore, he hadn’t stopped you from walking out the door. he gave up, and he gave up so easily.

nothing along the lines of ‘don’t you dare walk away from me’, no tearful argument, no explosive and definitive end to your relationship. minho just let your love slip away.

how must that have made you feel on top of everything that he did - or didn’t do - to you?

minho has been called every variation of ‘cold’ before. to everyone else, he’s callous, rough, intimidating and unapproachable. but to you, he’s kind, soft, gentle and loving. it never mattered what anyone thought of him, as long as you always knew that he loved you, that you saw him for who he was.

but toward the end, what if you saw him how the others did? what if you had deemed him cold too?

the mere thought makes him sick to his stomach.

you sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “you don’t have to say that. it’s in the past now.”

fracture upon fracture upon fracture. minho doesn’t know how much more of this his heart can take.

his fingers twitch, and before he can stop himself, he’s reaching for your hands. to his surprise, you let him.

your hands, so delicate in his, so warm.

“i should’ve fought harder for you,” he says, his voice so small that you barely catch the words at all.

but his eyes… he hopes you can see it in his eyes - the regret, the longing, the pain of losing you dimming the light of the stars he holds there.

giving his hands a light squeeze, you say, “and maybe i should’ve held on tighter instead of letting go.”

“i made you feel like you weren’t enough. it’s the worst thing i ever did to you. i understand why you left.”

you try to calm your breathing, because you really don’t feel like breaking down in front of him right now. you don’t say anything in response; what are you even supposed to say? you told him everything that you wanted to the night that you two broke up. everything that you tried to bottle up for months was laid on the table that night. you watched as he listened to you, watched as his heart broke alongside yours. that was it.

“i… i’m sorry,” minho stutters, and for the first time since you’ve known him, he looks scared. “i’m sorry. can’t we try again? i swear i won’t let you down again. i swear to you.”

“min…” the nickname slips out of habit and for a second there, minho thinks you would say yes. but then… “i know you’re sorry. i know we didn’t break things off because we fell out of love. but i don’t think you’re at a point in your life where i can be the most important thing right now. you may not mean to, but there’ll be things that you prioritize over me… and i’m not at a place in my life where i can settle for being on someone’s back burner either. the timing’s just off. it’s not your fault, life just got in the way.”

minho stares at you, the stars dying out one by one. the hurt is beyond what any word can describe but in a way, he understands. it fucking sucks, but he gets it. he has to accept it now.

he nods solemnly, tracing odd patterns on your palms. then he asks, quietly, “can i hold you? just for a while.”

please indulge me, he thinks. this is the last thing i’ll ever ask from you.

you don’t reply with words. instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. you two stay there in each other’s embrace for god knows how long. it could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours. you always lose track of time when you’re wrapped up together.

you hold him like he - tough and intimidating minho - is made of glass, and he holds you like he doesn’t ever want to let you go.

but he has to eventually.

you untangle yourself from him to find that he’s been crying. the tears on his cheeks catch the light from the street lamps, reflecting like crystals in the night. when you wipe them away, you tell him, “for once, i was right.”

“about what?” he sniffles.

“you really are a hopeless romantic,” you smile, trying to lighten the mood. as much as you can anyway. “i knew you’d prove me right one day.”

minho wants to scoff but his eyes are burning from the tears and his throat feels like it's closing up, so he lets you have this one. the last one, right?

maybe he is a romantic, and maybe it’s only for you. maybe it makes him a little hopeless.

the walk back to yours ends too quickly. but truth be told, even if you had walked together until the sun came up, it still wouldn’t have been long enough for him.

you both stand there, two heavy hearts looking at each other, looking for one another.

there’s no goodbye, only goodnight.

and you’re the one who says it first.

minho returns your sentiment with a choked up voice, a brush of his fingers against yours, and when you finally turn to walk up the steps, his gaze lingers on your retreating figure.

then he calls your name softly. “hey, uhm... i’ll let you know if the scarf turns up, okay?”

you turn back with a knowing smile. it’s still sad, but there’s some faith hidden there.

“i hope it will.”

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 16.01.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

[zzoguri]

satin ➵ jacob bae

the pink ribbons that you and your daughter used to dress up jacob now used on you.

general genre/warnings ➵ smut, fluff!, soft but teasing dom!jacob, slight shibari with ribbons, pet names (baby, teasing use of daddy), foreplay, fingering, nipple play, impregnation, creampie (duh), aftercare, ends with the start of a second round

word count ➵ 4.1k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays

a/n ➵ did i write this the night before my flight and the two plane rides? yes. i had to get it out. also, i think this horny thought caused my period to come early T__T anyway... shoutout to @kimsohn and @juyeonszn for being my crazy horny bffs... sliding this to some cobie lovers... @sungbeam @snowflakewhispers <3 don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

The early hours of the day are ones you used to dread. The sun would barely be out, the idea of sitting through countless hours of lectures, the contemplation of your ongoing list of work, work, work, that needs to be done once you return from a tiresome day.

But now, it's different; sunlight refracts through window panes, sounds of birds bounce off the walls, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. The early hours of the day are ones you used to dread, but waking up has gotten easier—maybe because you have someone to wake up and go back home to.

“Daddy, one more!”

“Sweetheart, we'll run out of ribbons for your hair! Don't you want to show your friends your pretty, pink ribbons?”

Your eyes peel open to the sight of home—the loves of your life seated by the vanity, one helping the other get ready for school.

Well, sort of.

Your little devil continues to bubble as her nimble hands gather more satin strands while your husband, Jacob, continues to brush her hair.

The white sheets you snuggle your nose into still smell of Jacob—fresh laundry and baby powder.

“But daddy! Look at you,” her finger points at the mirror, making his gaze land on the reflection. “You're beautiful,” she coos, pronouncing the first half of the word like a name.

He chuckles at her compliment. “Thank you. You have a good eye for fashion.”

Jacob's adorned with pink, satin ribbons. Every part of him that you can name probably has a ribbon tied on it. Some were loose, almost as if they would fall if he were to move, but some were tight, too tight, for your liking; his skin spills from bands of satin and his muscles show off more when they're restrained.

Maybe you needed to get out of bed.

As you sit up, the sheets rustle from the movement, causing your husband and daughter to look back at you.

Jacob’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “Oh no, did we wake you up? I'm sorry.”

“Sorry!” Your daughter's apology quickly follows his.

You shake your head, a smile resting on your lips as you get out of bed. As you walk towards them, your eyes catch sight of your freshly woken up state; the contrast between you and your husband and daughter has you giggling.

“God, I have a bird's nest.”

“No! You have beautiful hair made for,” your daughter pulls out another blush strand. “Ribbons!”

A pair of lips meet your cheek. “She's right,” your husband mumbles into your skin. “You're beautiful.”

As he parts away, you meet his gaze. He shoots you a lazy smile, one that reminds you of the times you wake up beside him, and your cheeks are dusted with rose-colored hues.

Warmth continues to spread throughout the room—not from the sun but from them.

You roll your eyes before you look at your daughter, your hand reaching out towards her. She hands you the torn-up satin and you smile. “Thank you.”

Then, your eyes rest on the man who stands beside you, still tied up in ribbons. Your free hand trails over where they rest—hair, forearms, waist to name a few.

(Though, you let your fingers play with the one around his waistline.)

“Where should I put this one, honey?”

Your daughter hums for a moment. Jacob shakes his head, not in disbelief that you're playing into your daughter's shenanigans but more so that you're going to make her late for school. And it'll be okay, you tell yourself, because he's the one in charge of dropping her off today.

“What about the neck? Like a necklace!”

Your eyebrows shoot up at her suggestion, a playful smile now on your lips. “A good choice! I'm sure daddy will love it.” The pet name rolls off your tongue so well that it has a grunt leave Jacob. The annoyed expression flashes through his features like a blink, but he tries to cover it up with an innocent smile.

“C’mon, you'll be late if we keep doing this. Let me finish fixing your hair and then we can go to school.” He tries to take control of the situation but you won't let him—not this time, at least.

“Nu–uh,” you disagree, moving so that you can stand right behind him. “You can do that while I put this necklace on you,” the satin piece meets his neck before you lean in to whisper into his ear, “right?”

The distance between you two—his back pressing against your chest, your lips grazing against his ear—is enough for Jacob’s tongue to turn into cotton. It didn't help that you were doing all of this right now, right when your daughter is here getting ready while he's pressed for time. But he knows that it won't do any good to deny the request if you two, so he nods.

Your hands guide the ribbon to wrap around his neck, the ends meeting past his nape which gives you enough to tie it into a bow. Your fingers busy themselves trying to form a beautiful knot while Jacob focuses on brushing your daughter's hair.

And when you tug on the satin, making it wrap tighter around his neck, he stills for a moment.

“Daddy?” Your daughter looks up at her father who halted his actions.

“What's wrong?” The question leaves your mouth, the playful tone that clings onto your words fails to make sense to her but has Jacob growing annoyed.

“Nothing, sorry,” he quickly says with a smile to cover up his behavior. “Just got distracted.”

She's oblivious to whatever is occurring between you two; you make the most out of the situation.

Thanks to the distance, it’s easy to hear his exhales—his sounds. His shoulders move along with them; heavy, deep, desperate.

Your fingers brush against his skin, and it blooms in rose tints. When your eyes catch sight of him swallowing down nothing—everything—you can’t help but let mischief take over.

You finish tying the satin into a perfect bow. The expanse of his skin covered in rose-like hues, dolled-up just for you—it’s enough for warmth to spread all throughout your body.

You don't get to see Jacob like this—all adorned with pink ribbons, restrained without being restrained to an object. It's humorous; you've switched positions just this once thanks to your daughter's shenanigans.

Your lips hover where the bow rests, your breath grazing his skin, and it has his hair standing. Just one kiss—one bite—to complete the present, and then—

“And done!”

He quickly moves, dragging your daughter along. Your gaze now lands back to your reflection, a pout now resting on your lips.

When you look at the two, a satisfied smile rests on your daughter's mouth while Jacob sports a relieved expression. “Go say bye now. We'll be late.”

Due to your husband's rushed words, your daughter quickly pecks your cheek, her teeth bumping against your skin. “Bye bye! I'll see you later!” You smile at her before she rushes out of your shared room with Jacob.

When your gaze leaves the door, it lands on Jacob who only looks at you with eyes filled with irritation, frustration, dominance. “Anyway, I’ll—”

His hands grip your waist, pulling you close to him; noses bump against each other. His breath grazes your lips while you hold yours in.

“What was that?” The question is asked with such sweetness but you know he means the opposite.

You gulp down nothing. “W—what do you mean?”

“Don’t play games with me, baby.”

There’s the Jacob you know. Satisfaction paints his features; a smirk with eyes that flicker down occasionally to your lips. And when you feel his grip tighten around your waist, air is knocked out of your lungs.

He leans forward, as if distance needs to be closed, but his lips never touch yours. “Baby, baby, baby,” he says with such care, and yet…

“You know what you did. Just say it.”

You know better. He’s giving you a chance to apologize—to repent—for what you did. But instead of settling for that, you lean forward, lips interlocking with his. His hand shimmies its way under your shirt, a thumb drawing circles on your hip bone, and warmth blossoms further.

You part away, leaning your forehead on his. Your fingers find their way to the bow that rests around his neck, fiddling with the ends of your masterpiece. 

“You need to bring her to school,” you whisper words he doesn’t want to hear. All he wants is an apology—an explanation—for your behavior this morning, but you don’t give in.

So he rolls his eyes, a chuckle leaving him before he lets go of your waist. “I’ll see you later.”

You let your hand fall back to your side, and you shoot him a smile. “I look forward to it.”

Before you know it, he makes his way towards the door, still wrapped in pink satin. The thought of Jacob showing up in front of your daughter’s school adorned in bows has you giggling.

“I can hear you laughing!”

You roll your eyes at his comment. “Just go!”

You wonder what he’ll bring you after he’s done with the task at hand.

If you were expecting anything good, then you are absolutely wrong. (Well, that’s a lie. You were hoping for something, but you weren’t expecting this.)

Whatever present you were hoping for—food from your favorite cafe that’s only a 2-minute drive from your daughter’s school or an opportunity for you to finally do whatever you want unto jacob—couldn’t prepare you for what’s happening now.

“You just couldn’t behave.” A pair of hands roam over your torso as teeth tug on the expanse of your neck, satin grazing your skin. You hold back your sounds, eyes fluttering close, until he digs in harder, wetter.

A mewl escapes you without a second thought. His lips leave your neck and his hands focus on tugging your oversized shirt off, leaving you only in a pair of night undies.

You peel your eyes open, greeted by the sight of Jacob wrapped in satin. Your gaze trails to where the ribbons rest—some threatening to fall off of him while others still making sure his skin, his muscles, spill out.

(And it didn’t help that the white t-shirt he wears clings to his torso, probably from its fitting or thanks to the ribbons.)

His hands rest on the space around you and his legs cage you down, restricting you from any movement like you did with him. You’re lightheaded, maybe from lip locking, the position you’re in, or even from the sight of your husband. And with your heavy breaths, a smug grin takes over Jacob’s face. His hand tugs on the loose satin around his waist. It falls to your stomach, letting his shirt cling less to his torso.

“What if we play dress up?” He hums as he lets his lips trail from your jaw, to your shoulder, all the way to space between your tits. He looks up at you, and says, “Like how you did with me this morning.”

A grunt leaves you.

He grabs the ribbon, fingers fiddling as he figures out what to do with you. “Don’t you think it’s only fair that I have my time with you? My fun with you?”

When you shake your head, Jacob chuckles. “Cobie, c’mon—”

“Nu–uh,” he retaliates like how you did then. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of your punishment.”

He sits and chucks his head up, signaling you to lift your torso up. You follow his orders, and his hands dart around so that the strand wraps around your upper chest. 

With his fingers busy tying a bow, your hand dart towards the ribbon wrapped around his forearm. Your fingertips fiddle with satin and his warm skin, and you both relish in your final moments of freedom.

“There we go.” Your eyes dart down to your chest, spotting a perfectly tied pink bow resting above your tits. And when his nails dig into your waist, a mewl escapes you as you arch your back.

Jacob loves it all; the ribbon that was once tied around his waist now tied right above your tits, the sounds that leave you from the different sensations of satin and his hands brushing your skin, and your hazy eyes that meet his wide awake ones.

He litters you with kisses from cheeks, neck, chest. “You’re so pretty for me,” he mumbles in between. Once his lips hover over yours, noses bumping against each other, he whispers, “I just want to devour you.”

You catch his lips, arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him close. He moves one knee in between your legs, letting you grind your clothed slit against his thigh, as his hands find themselves on your tits. Fingertips flick against your nipples, causing a moan to escape you. 

He parts away, letting you catch your breath. As you attempt to control your breathing, you watch him reach for the ribbon that rests on his shoulder and tug it undone. Its length is longer in comparison to the one that rests on your chest; perhaps your daughter may have overestimated how much she needed to tie around Jacob’s shoulder.

And before you know it, he grabs hold of your wrists and lets the satin strand circle around them. “Too tight?” He asks once he ties a knot around them.

You shake your head. “Just right.”

He smiles at you. “Good. Now,” his hands find their way on the band of your underwear. “Let me taste you.”

He tugs it down, exposing you to him. The contrast between you two—nude and fully clothed—makes your head spin.

“Jacob, please.”

He hums. “‘Please’ what, darling?”

“Remove your clothes.”

“Making demands?” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll see about that.” He spends his time undoing the ribbon that’s wrapped around his arm. “Plus, I enjoy you like this, just physically unable to fulfill your desires.”

A groan rips out of your throat. You hate Jacob.

His hands brush against your upper thigh, tying a ribbon around it. When he finishes, his hand lingers, teasing you with the short distance between him and your slit.

You’re about to curse at him until you watch him slowly move down, and his face is closer to your pussy than his hand. He breathes you in and a groan rips out. “God, you smell delicious.”

Before you know it, his tongue darts towards your slit, drinking up your juices. A moan leaves you, your back arching at how he eats you out. And when his nose nudges against your clit, your mewls get louder, uncontrollable.

Your head is spinning from how Jacob plays with your five senses; satin strands wrapped around you, his tongue touching you in places you longed for him to graze against, the squelching noise that comes from him eating you out has your head spinning. The lack of power—control—turns you on even more.

When you try to look down at him, his eyes are already on you. The eye contact knocks the air out of your lungs. When his hand reaches to the bow that rests on your thigh, fingers playing with pink satin, you throw your head back.

Your lower half finds itself moving on its own, lifting itself from the mattress as it attempts to chase the pleasure. But Jacob rests his forearm on your stomach, holding you down, and continues to eat you out to his liking. Still, you try to move under the restraints; it’s reflexive, out of control. 

His mouth leaves your slit, a whine leaving you. “Baby, if you keep that up, you won’t get what you want in the end.”

You try to control your breathing, bringing your satin-tied wrists close to your face.

He finally strips off his shirt. You’re lightheaded when you look at him, top naked with one singular satin ribbon left—the one you tied around his neck.

He reaches for the button of his pants. “You’ve been such a treat for me, let me reward you.” His pants and underwear are down, revealing his hardened length that leaks pre-cum.

He moves your restrained wrists away and reaches for your lips with his; the taste of you still lingers on his lips. He sucks on your bottom lip, causing a whine to leave you.

He moves away so that you can catch your breath—or so you thought.

Before you can control your heartbeat, you feel a finger prod its way into your pussy, having you clench over the digit. Your eyes roll back as you moan, and he curls his finger, hitting your walls.

“God, look at you. Such a moaning mess over one finger.” You do your best to look at Jacob, seeing him tonguing the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes on your face. It causes patches of rose-tones to appear in your cheeks. “I wonder how you’ll take my cock. It’s been a while, after all.”

Before you know it, another finger enters you. Your eyes are wide, your bottom half filled with pleasure. And when his thumb plays with your nub, you don’t know if you’ll be ready for his cock after all.

You thrash in bed, overwhelmed by pleasure, and Jacob only watches. The sight of you struggling to do anything while he holds you down, through satin or his hands, causes more precum to leak.

“J-Jacob, I don’t—”

“No, baby, you will. You’ll hold out until you get on my cock.” It’s a demand, and you don’t know if you’ll be able to fulfill it, but you try.

That is until his finger curls hits one spot; all resolve is broken. As he notices your expression shift, he smirks and continues his ministrations. A series of moans escapes you as he continues to hit your g-spot.

You swear you feel the band about to snap, and you consider telling Jacob that you’re about to come. But for selfish reasons, you don’t want to; all you want is to finally come.

You’re close, short rapid breaths escape you as you clench tighter around his digits, until his fingers leave you. It’s almost like he knew you were close.

“Fuck!” You complain only to be met with Jacob’s chuckle. “I was so close! Are you kidding me?”

He clicks his tongue. “Didn’t I tell you to hold out?” He moves close to you, his cock lining up to your pussy. “You were going to disobey my orders if I kept going.”

You roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. You’re irritated from being left high and dry.

“Fuck you—”

His cock enters you without warning, cutting you off and causing a moan to rip out of you. He goes at a steady speed, building the pleasure up.

“You’re still tight even after that?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you only answer in a series of moans. He chuckles. “My baby can’t even answer me properly this early on, and we’ve only started.”

Before you know it, his cock leaves you, causing you to whine. You were going to complain, but he flips you so that you rest on your knees and elbows. 

Without a warning, he enters once more which has a moan rip out of you. He goes at the same pace but he feels deeper, hitting crevices that your fingers could never reach.

As Jacob continues to fuck you, you try to look back at him, and you watch how his eyebrows scrunch as he watches his cock enter you. Your eyes catch sight of the pink satin that clings to his skin and you cannot help but clench around his cock, making him moan along with you.

He finally notices your eyes on him, and he tongues the inside of his cheek. Then, he leans forward, face-to-face with you as his chest is pressed against your back.

“Baby.” He smiles at you—not a smug one but one filled with adoration. And yet…

“Should we try for another?” The air is knocked out of your lungs. His smile turns sinister as he feels you get wetter at the thought. “Wouldn’t you love that? Another baby? Another opportunity to be filled to the brim?”

And he starts to pick up the pace, causing you to let out a series of moans. “God, you just want to be filled with my cum, don’t you? Wouldn’t you love that? Just us trying again, again, again, for another baby, me filling you with cum.”

He watches your breathing get heavy over the idea; to be filled with Jacob’s cum for days, weeks, months, years as if it were your only job or purpose in life.

You feel it coming; the rubber band is about to snap at any moment.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

“Come for me. Do it, baby,” he chants such words. “I’m going to come. Going to fill you up, going to impregnate you.” He keeps going at such a fast pace, and his words do nothing but help you get close. “And we’ll keep going baby, going to make sure you’re filled with so much cum that I’ll have to plug my fingers to keep it in.”

Your pants get heavier as you try to meet his thrusts. You’re so close, but you don’t know what you need. You’re too light headed to think of what to do until you feel fingertips draw circles on your clit. Your moans get louder, uncontainable.

You look away from him, overwhelmed by the pleasure. Your gaze lands on your satin-tied wrists. “Come for me, baby. Let me impregnate you,” he whispers into your ear.

The rubber band snaps. You clench around his cock as you come, a long moan leaving you. And with how you clench around Jacob has him coming with you, his cum filling you up.

It doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting, riding out his high to ensure that you’re filled with enough.

Once he stills, you find yourself collapsing down to the bed. You attempt to control your breathing, eyes closed from what just occurred.

“Baby, let me flip you. I need to remove the ribbons,” Jacob says with care.

You only hum. His cock leaves you, causing you to hiss as you are still sensitive. His hands find themselves on your waist, flipping you so that you face him. He undoes the ribbon wrapped around your wrists and puts it away. He takes an opportunity to examine your wrists.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling at your husband. “I’m okay.” You still see the pink satin wrapped around his neck. “That was good.”

He chuckles before meeting your lips once more. Once he parts away, he takes in the sight of you in your fucked-out state dressed in pink ribbons that were once wrapped around him. His heart grows warm.

As his eyes trail down to your slit, he gasps. “Oh no, it’s leaking.” His fingers scoop his cum that leaks out of your pussy and shoves it back in, another hiss leaving you. “We don’t want to waste any cum.”

A giggle leaves you. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. “I love you.” Your fingers graze against the ribbon that still rests around his neck. “I’m glad you kept this on.”

He hums. “I mean, I knew it turned you on, so I played into it. I understand though. After seeing you tied up, maybe I need to learn shibari.”

You gulp at his words and he notices. A smirk lies on his lips. “Of course, I should’ve known. How come I never knew about this?”

You shrug. “I don’t know—well, I do know. I think I was just too shy to bring it up.”

“Baby,” he starts off, giving you another kiss. “There’s no need to be shy around me. I would love to know everything about you, even what gives you the most pleasure. What else do you like?”

You chew on your cheek. “Well, I really want to do shibari on you.”

“Deal.”

“I know you might not—wait, really?”

His lips press against your cheek. “I’m willing to try it out.” You cannot help yourself but smile. “So, now?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jacob, you just gave me the most earth-shattering orgasm of my life, and your fingers are still in me. I don’t know if I can go another round.”

“You sure?” He smirks before letting his lips trail to your neck. “Just a little foreplay can change that.” He starts to suck on your skin, and you cannot help but let a moan slip. And when his fingers start to move, your eyes roll back.

God, you need to buy more ribbons for your daughter. (And for you and Jacob, of course.)

#deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #works of moni #the boyz #jacob bae #jacob bae smut #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #jacob bae fluff #jacob bae x reader #the boyz smut

[everlastlady]

When You Have A Nightmare.

☕┆ Author's Note: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, & powerful overlords. Did you have a nightmare? Aww well don't worry because Striker, Fizzarolli, Asmodeus, & Verosika are here to keep you company so sit back and relax. If you enjoyed this story don't forget to comment, like , or reblog. My request are open so feel free to whisper your desires.

☕┆ Story Contains: Nightmares

☕┆ Fandom: Helluva Boss

☕┆ Word Count: 882

🐍Striker: Striker hadn’t been home yet which was normal. He was an assassin so sometimes he didn’t even come home for a few days. You had spent the day doing your own thing and cleaning the home. You made yourself dinner and then got ready for bed. You made sure to feed Striker’s pet snake since you also adore the little noodle named Noodle. After making sure all the doors and windows were locked, you got into bed and watched some TV. Before you had fallen asleep you were resting until the nightmare happen and you woke up screaming and crying. “ Hey, Hey darlin, I’m here wants wrong? “ You were breathing heavily and stopped screaming and saw Striker crouched in front of you, as he placed his hand on your cheek and gave you a worried look. “ I got home a few minutes and didn’t want to wake you, but you woke up screaming. Did you have a nightmare, my little spitfire? “ Striker asked. You nodded and watched him wipe the tears from your eyes. He got into bed and held you close. He smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower. You cuddled up next to him and told him about your nightmare. Which made him sigh, he knew you worried about him, and he was glad someone worried about him. “ Darlin’ ain’t no one gonna take me away from you, not even Death, himself. “ Striker gave you a kiss. “ I’ll always be here for you, now rest that pretty little head of yours. I’m here I got the next few weeks off and I’m going to spend it with you. “ Striker gave you some more kisses and rubs your back. You eventually drift off back to sleep and Striker continued to hold you close.

💚🤍Asmodeus & Fizzarolli: After a hard day at the Lustful Loung, you and Fizzarolli took a nice warm bubble bath with your, guys, boyfriend Asmodeus. How did you all fit in the tub? I don’t know to do the math. Anyway after helping each other dry off and get dressed. Asmodeus made you, both dinner and then you all brushed your teeth and went to bed, You on Asmodeus’s right side and Fizz on the left. You all cuddled up and watched a movie until they fell asleep and you had fallen asleep at the end. But then the nightmare came and you woke up in a small panic with tears streaming down your face. You looked over and saw your boyfriends Asmodeus and Fizzarolli staring at you with concerned looks. “ O-Oh, I’m sorry if I woke you, guys up. “ You said while wiping your tears. “ No, honey, you didn’t wake us up, I woke up 'cause Fizz kept kicking me. “ Asmodeus said while glaring at Fizz who gave a nervous smile. “ But we looked over and saw you muttering in your sleep about don’t leave you, what’s wrong? “ Fizzarolli asked, He got out of bed to sit by your side. You told them about your nightmare and they both hugged you. Well, Asmodeus hugged you both. “ Don’t be silly, we will never leave you. “ Fizzarolli said and kissed you. Asmodeus also gave you a kiss. “ Yeah, my little flower we will leave you, I love you and Fizz both equally. “ Asmodeus kissed you more. Fizzarolli and Asmodeus told you sweet and loving affirms and you had fallen asleep between the two with a smile. They both smiled and were glad you can sleep peacefully again.

Verosika: You and Verosika had a wonderful date night with all the shopping, spa, movie, and then dinner. Verosika loved spoiling especially how you would always make her feel special. Right now you and Verosika were getting ready for bed. She was already in bed asleep with her eyemask and lingerie on. Which made you blush. She always looked good in black, white, and pink. You finished getting ready for bed and then got yourself into bed. You fell asleep next to your girlfriend, and after peacefully sleeping the nightmare came and you were crying when you woke up. You saw that Verosika was still asleep and didn’t want to wake her up. You knew she valued her beauty sleep. So you got out of bed and walked to the kitchen and grabbed a treat from the kitchen and sat on the couch as tears stained your face and you watched TV. Verosika came out and yawed. “ What’s wrong babe? The bed is lonely without you? “ She said. She walked over and sat down pulling you close. You held onto her and cried in between your sobbing mess, you told her about your nightmare. “ Oh, baby. I don’t care what you look like. I’ll never leave you because no one is hot like you. I don’t care about your looks, I care about what's inside just like you said to me when we first met. “ She kissed you. You smiled and she wipes away your tears. “ Now we can sit here and watch TV until you fall asleep and I’ll carry you back to the room mkay? “ She said. You nodded and cuddled with her how the couch until you fell asleep, but you two didn’t go to the room because Verosika fell asleep on the couch with you.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #striker x reader #asmodeus x reader #fizzarolli x reader #verosika x reader #helluva striker #helluva asmodeus #helluva fizzarolli #helluva verosika #fandoms #fandom #fan fiction #fanfic #helluva moxxie #helluva millie #helluva blitzo #helluva loona #helluva stolas #helluva jesse #request 🌌📖

[toruro]

shower sex w chan i feel like he'd love that

untitled

✘ genres. smut (18+ / mdni), fluff / humor ✘ pairing. l. chan x reader

oh my god yes chan would absolutely love sex in the shower just because he finds it so intimate and domestic. he loves you and your naked body so much, and seeing it under the running water will literally just drive him insane and something as intimate as washing each other off would turn him on so fucking fast.

now i firmly believe that chan is an ass man through and through but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy boobs—especially soapy ones. he'd be rubbing soap over your body and obviously his long, rough fingers brush over your tits and as you lean into his touch under the hot water, you start to notice how he's paying extra attention to this part.

"mm, channie i thought this was just a shower," you murmur, looking over at the way he gazes lustfully at your tits lathered in bubbles.

chan huffs, shamelessly continuing to stare down at you. "yeah, yeah, you know that was a lie," he replies, eyes flickering up at yours. "you knew what you were getting yourself into," he continues, finally harshly grabbing one of your breasts and tweaking the nipple between his fingers, causing you to gasp.

"hmm, maybe," you manage to reply as he snakes a hand down your slippery thighs to play with your clit roughly. "should've known you're literally a horn-dog."

chan scoffs, leaning back so he can look at you properly, not halting his ministrations. "don't act like you didn't want this too."

"that's irrelevant," you mutter, before letting out an audible moan when his fingers graze that spot that has you weak in the knees. "c-careful," you grunt, "i'm not trying to fall down in the shower."

chan grips your waist tightly and presses you against the glass door of the shower. "relax babe, i got you," and the way he says it so smoothly has any of your doubts withering away.

"o-okay," you mumble bashfully as he slips his fingers out and turns you around so your face and chest are pressed up against the door, smearing clear spots into the condensation on the glass. you can feel chan's thick tip prod at your entrance, and you sigh at the realization that maybe you are a bit more needy than you initially thought.

"fuck, you're so wet," chan groans as he slides between your folds.

"yeah babe, it's almost as if we're in the shower," you shoot back, but your chuckle is cut short when he sinks into in one go. it feels like the air is being punched out of you, and you arch your back so your hips are further pushing into chan's pelvis.

he bottoms out inside of you within seconds and tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the burn, the stretch, from the fucking fullness. chan stills his hips, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs into your back as you take deep breaths and adjust to the stretch.

it takes a few moments of not moving, and suddenly you feel a cool liquid on your back.

"a-are you putting soap on my ass?" you half-shriek, looking back with your hands on the glass to steady yourself, only to be met with the sight of chan holding a bottle of soap above you. he just smiles bashfully down at you, but you can tell he feels no shame.

"sorry babe, butt and bubbles just go together."

"is my butt not a bubble?"

"you're not making any sense."

"says the person putting soap on my ass."

"it's hot! 'm sorry! but there's nothing i can do about it!" he exclaims.

"fine, but you better not get soap in my pussy."

chan smirks, leaning down to press a kiss on your shoulder as he throws the soap bottle to the side. "the only thing that's going in your pussy today," he murmurs, pulling his cock out 'til the tip so fast it has you dizzy, "is my cum, babe." he slams back into you, and that's when you are reminded exactly why you agreed to showering with chan in the first place.

a/n: please let me know what you think <3 hope u have a great day, and pls leave likes/comments and reblog!

#dino x reader #lee chan x reader #dino #dino smut #lee chan smut #lee chan imagines #lee chan scenarios #dino imagines #dino scenarios #svt smut #svt scenarios #answered #✰ anon #💌 drabbles

[namazunomegami]

Atonement

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.

CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie

WC: 5.3k

Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕

Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.

A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕

Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork

It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.

Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.

Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.

“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.

He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.

Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.

“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”

Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.

“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”

You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.

“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

This… was a bit too far, you must admit.

You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.

“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”

A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.

“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”

You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.

“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”

You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.

Hold on…

You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.

Did he just… no, it can’t be.

He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.

But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.

It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”

“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”

Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.

“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”

You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.

But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.

“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”

The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.

You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.

“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”

His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.

This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.

“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”

A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.

“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”

His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.

The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.

“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”

You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.

“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”

Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.

“This is not your cross to bear.”

He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.

“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”

He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.

Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.

Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.

“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”

All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.

I’ll keep an eye on you.

It’ll keep an eye on you.

You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.

“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”

You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.

“I promise.”

You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.

You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.

You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.

“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.

“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.

“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”

Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.

“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.

And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.

In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.

The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.

There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.

You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.

“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.

“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”

And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.

The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.

And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.

This is what real worship looks like.

When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.

He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.

“Since when were you so reckless?”

His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.

“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.

Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.

You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.

The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.

And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.

You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.

“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.

And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.

Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.

You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.

But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.

You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.

He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.

Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.

But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.

You’re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.

“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.

Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.

And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.

“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”

No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.

“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.

There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.

“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.

His words cause anger to bubble up in you.

“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.

“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.

“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.

“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.

Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.

“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.

“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”

He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.

“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.

Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.

His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.

His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.

“And what do we say when we apologize?”

The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.

“Forgive me.”

You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.

Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.

His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.

He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.

And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.

“I forgive you.”

Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.

He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.

“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”

“I know. But you love me all the same.”

You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.

Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.

But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.

And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.

“Is your hand alright?”

He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.

He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.

And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.

You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.

“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.

“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.

“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #meesa writes #DAAARLING GUESS WHOS COME BACK FROM JAIIIIL #Idk what kind of deep psychological issue of mine is in that fic but now its your job to decipher #just please dont bring Freud into the picture I hate that man

[thisismeracing]

Mick & Wedding & Fluff [I'm a sucker for domestic things] CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K MY LOVE!

Wedding | MS47

⸺ the one where you're living the happiest moments of your life and you know it. ✓ mentions of alcohol.

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (open) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

"God, we were getting crazy drunk right there," Yn pointed, throwing her head back and laughing.

She and Mick were at home, their new home, watching the videos from their wedding. Right now, the big screen was showing the wedding reception. Yn was barefoot, with her reception-designed dress, champagne glass in her hands, and a huge smile on her face, while Mick had the first few buttons of his white shirt open, his black jacket forgotten somewhere while his tie was around his wife's neck. He too had a glass of champagne in hand, while both of them and their closest friends danced to Lost by Frank Ocean as if the world was about to end. But in reality, it was just beginning. It was the start of the happiest years of their lives sharing it with the love of his life.

"I was so happy. I was a bit naive though, because I thought that would be the happiest moment of my life. I learned a bit after that each day with you would be the happiest." Mick confessed, scooting even closer to Yn's side.

"We should start a journal because ever since our wedding I've had so many moments where I thought 'damn, this is the happiest it could get' only to realize a bit after that it can get even better than that. And when we have kids, they can read about how bright life was, is, and will be for them as well."

"Speaking about kids, when we are going to start trying?" The blonde poked, a smirk gracing his features and his eyebrows slightly raised.

Yn chuckled and eyed him. "We can start now, you know I want it all with you."

And when Mick eagerly pulled off his shirt and got up fumbling with his jeans, Yn felt the laugh bubble in her mouth booming around the room, because yet again life with her husband felt amazing.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Thank you, babes!!! <3 *mwah* I'm a sucker for domestic fluff too aaaa. Hope you guys like it, don't forget to leave a comment and reblog.

#one word a thousand stories blurb night #mick schumacher #op: blurbs #blurb night #mick schumacher imagines #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfiction #millie writes #ms47 #mick schumacher blurb #mick schumacher fluff #requests #forteafy

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 6

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... thank you for your support, if you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

You put the key in the lock and you come in your house, you take off your scarf and coat, your boots and you wear your slippers, then you go to the kitchen, but you freeze on the door: your mother is half - naked on a chair in your kitchen.

You turn around and pretend not to see anything, but she must have seen you from the corner of her eyes because she jumps and tries to get dressed clumsily.

The man, perhaps in his mid-fifties, looks at you surprised and upset at being found with his intimacy on show.

"Honey." your mother says, coming toward you.

You back up and make to go toward the door, but your mother stops you by making you turn toward her "Honey, he's a friend. And-- well, I thought you were at work tonight, I thought ..."

"What?" you say for the first time using an icy tone with your mother "How long has this been going on?"

"Almost a year." she replies "I was going to tell you about it sooner or later. I was just waiting for the most opportune moment, but I would have told you, believe me."

"I don't care." you blurt, releasing yourself from her grip and running to get your boots on.

"Where are you going?"

You don't answer her, you put on your coat and scarf again, take your keys and then open the door, think about it for a moment and then turn to her "One thing you have to tell me though, when did you see each other if you're always in the hospital?"

"He's a colleague, honey. And we sometimes used to see each other there, but other..."

You nod "So, you told me to go to the hospital, you were actually with him."

"Listen to me..." she's about to say, but you go through the door and slam it behind you, run down the stairs, and take the main street again.

It's almost ten o'clock at night, it's freezing.

You slip your hands into the pockets of your jacket and start walking.

You don't know where to go, you don't know what to do.

You're not upset that you found your mother in a compromising situation with another man, after all, your father and your mother are as good as separated, he left home that you were six or seven years old so she has every right to rebuild her life.

You still walk, you don't know where you're going.

What hurts you is to think about how many lies there have been in your life, all the obligations you had to follow, even your mother's abuse, how much responsibility she has thrown on you all this time, how many "you must" had to follow and never transgress, but what hurts you the most is her absolute search for truth from you; sure you have omitted things from her lately, but you think that if you had told her all the truth you would never have met Joel or Jack, you wouldn't have begun to get out of that bubble filled with lies in which she forced you to live.

You are so immersed in your thoughts that you didn't realize you were standing in front of Joel's house.

Your eyes pinch for the frost, you hope he's there, you want him to be there.

You knock.

Just once.

You don't have the courage to push.

After a couple of minutes, you see him open the door slightly, holding the latch still on the door, then he realizes it's you, he closes the door again and then throws it wide open "What-- what happened to you?" Joel asks you, widening his eyes with a worried look.

You don't know the look on your face at that moment, but you're definitely torn.

You see him put a rifle down next to the wall and then immediately close the door again.

You'd like to ask him what he's going to do with that, but that's not the pressing question; you have a thousand thoughts in your head, each one more confused than the last.

"Hey, look a' me!" he says, turning towards him and taking your face in his big warm hands, "What are you doing here at this hour?"

You swallow, but you don't know where to start.

"Wait, take this off." he says pointing to your coat "And go by the fireplace, you're freezing."

You nod, "Gimme." he says taking your coat "D' ya want something warm to drink?" he asks again.

"Yes." you reply, nodding.

He opens wide his eyes "Something serious must have happened to answer me yes, sweetheart. Go that way, I'll be right there."

You obey by entering his living room and approaching the couch, you see he was carving wood, no precise shape yet, but your gaze does not linger too much on the carving wood as much as on the crackling fire.

You get closer and the chill you felt up to that moment gives way to shivers and then to intense heat. You squeeze into your shoulders and close your eyes, perhaps you've bothered him.

"Sit down." says Joel behind you, you turn away "Something that warms you right away is just the whiskey, but I don't think it's..."

"It's all right." you say interrupting him.

Joel says your name and then approaches you "You're upset, I don't think tasting whiskey is a good thing."

"It's okay. I'm an adult, I can drink. I'm not a child, Joel," you tell him in a serious tone of voice.

"Will you tell me later what happened? I don't like your dark face," he tells you.

"All right, but there's not much to tell," you say, cutting short.

Joel still looks at your face for a moment and you - still feeling his gaze on you - look away from him and back at the fire. He quickly returns with two glasses, you see him set them down on the coffee table and pour a half-finger of whiskey into both glasses, and then he hands you one.

You sniff that golden liquid first, it's strong, very strong, it almost pinches your nose, then you bring your lips close to the glass and drink a small amount. It stings, you cough.

He, on the other hand, drinks it suddenly and smiles at your reaction.

"Gimme the glass, I'll take it over there."

"I'm not done yet," you note.

"Sweetheart, will you tell me what's going on? You've been acting strange since you came in. D' ya want to tell me?" he tells you, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

You sigh, then barely squeeze the glass in your hands and tell him, "Sorry to bother you. I see you were carving something, maybe I disturbed you."

"Baby, you never disturb. You could have come even in the middle of the night. Maybe you should have waited about ten minutes, but I would have let you in anyway. Whenever you want, my house is always open."

You nod with your head down "Thank you."

You take another small sip feeling a warm, burning sensation in your throat.

Joel doesn't speak; he waits for you to say something about it.

You tell him everything, all your thoughts, how you felt, what you thought as you walked through the semi-dark and semi-deserted streets of the town, you tell him about your emotions and how you felt betrayed by your mother.

He says nothing, takes your glass in his hands and lays it on the coffee table and then takes your face in his hands again "My poor little one." he tells you as he strokes your cheekbones with his calloused thumbs "Life with you is just unfair." he comments, you feel your eyes tingling "Now, however, it's up to you to decide what you want to do, how you want to react and live your life. Whether to react by destroying your life or to react and live your life the right way."

"And will you help me?" you ask him looking into his eyes.

"I don't know if I'm the best person for the job, but I'll certainly try," he replies, still stroking your face with his thumbs, while you place your hands on his and kiss him.

You quickly realize you've done something very stupid, he will now pull your face away from his and he will tell you not to do that again, and you will feel even more stupid for having made that gesture.

But, he doesn't push you away; he kisses you back. It's a slow kiss, nothing passionate or overwhelming, it's not impetuous, but it shakes you to the core. His lips are so soft against yours. He doesn't deepen the kiss, he follows your rhythm, and when you open your mouth, he always waits for you to make the next move. Move that is not long in coming. Your tongues started a slow dance, he doesn't overdo, he doesn't do anything beyond the rhythm you are setting. Your breaths mingle and you can't help but think about how you tried to push away the thought of him and instead you came right to him for comfort.

He gently pulls your face away from his, you stay for a while with your eyes closed, forehead to forehead, your breaths crashing against each other's faces, "D' ya regret?" he asks you.

"No. Are you?" you ask him, opening your eyes and looking into his eyes, wanting to know immediately what his thoughts are on the matter.

"No." he answers you right away "I was asking you because I thought you cared about that boy, John." he adds looking you in the eye and moving his hands away from your face.

"Jack." you correct him.

"Whatever" you sigh "So? Do you or don't you care about him?" he asks you.

"Joel, the truth is, I don't know. With him -- I had a good time with him today, I had a wonderful day. We talked, we laughed, we joked, time flew with him and everything was perfect." you see him nodding with a low gaze and his hands on his hips "He's such a good guy" you see him tapping his foot on the ground and hear him breathing deeply "and he asked me to see him again."

"So why did you kiss me and not him?" he asks you point-blank, completely displacing you "If you were so good, then you should have kissed him, not me. Don't you think?" he asks you again.

You nod your head low "Yes, maybe, but ... it didn't feel right, that's it."

"Why did you kiss me? Was it to try to see if you cared about him -- or what?" he asks with a nervous tone.

The truth is you don't know why you did, what you wanted to prove to yourself, what you hoped to understand with this kiss, you never imagined Joel would ask you these questions that you yourself should have been thinking about before and instead, reacting on instinct, you found yourself in a situation that was difficult to understand first for yourself and then for the man in front of you.

"You want the truth, Joel?" he nods "I have been fine with you from almost the very beginning, you opened my eyes on so many things and you are the person who welcomes me and makes me feel at home like no one else, with you I feel strong and protected."

"These words I already know where they lead," he comments, "they always end with a though you are not what I want, from my life I want something else, don't I?"

"Don't compare me to her!" you blurt "If she yelled at you this I can't help it, but don't compare the events nor the people!" you continued raising your voice for perhaps the first time in your life.

"I'm not comparing anyone at all, you're the one who dragged me into this shitty situation," he spits between his teeth, looking at you hard.

"You want me out of your life? Whatever." you explode, turning your back on him and making to go get your coat. At this point better anywhere else than standing there with him, you'll just spew nastiness at each other that maybe you don't even really think about each other.

Before you reach the door, however, Joel grabs you by the wrist with one hand and pins you by the shoulder with the other "I can't let that happen. I'd--" you hear him sigh and then rest his forehead against the back of your head "actually, I don't know what I want either. I want you to be happy, but I'm afraid you could never be happy with someone like me around. You probably, well-- need someone else. And maybe this someone else is Jack himself, maybe," he adds.

"You see, there are two of us who are confused." you say "Maybe we just need to put some distance between us, maybe it will be good for us and help us clear our minds." you propose, but you already know it's gonna be impossible.

"D' you want me to be your music teacher only?" he proposes, loosening his grip from your wrist and shoulder.

"Joel," you turn toward him, "I don't know if we can go back and pretend we're just a teacher and his student. I don't know if I can think of you as just that anymore. The truth is, when I'm with you, I can't think about Jack. You completely erase him."

You are going on a dangerous ground, you know, but you have to be honest. You've always been honest unfortunately, and you have to be honest now more than ever.

"Baby girl, I don't want to make this harder. This kiss was beautiful and--" Joel sighs, he was about to say something but evidently restrained himself "I don’t want things to change or to be complicated because of it; so," he says moving a strand of hair behind your ear, "we're going to try to pretend that nothing ever happened. Good for you?"

You don't want to lose Joel, so it's okay.

It has to be.

Although it means to ignore everything, including the heartbeat when you see him.

"Okay." you find yourself saying, but you're sure your eyes are sad.

"Okay." he says stroking the contour of your face with a finger and then adds after a few moments, "Come back in front of the fireplace so you can warm up a little more. I'll go find you a blanket. Maybe you can sleep on the couch tonight."

You only nod, exchange another long look, and then he goes upstairs disappearing from your sight.

You, on the other hand, go over by the fireplace wondering why you were so weak from kissing him and leading him on only to backtrack immediately, clutching your shoulders and breathing deeply: you saw in his eyes the anger, the disappointment you gave him and that certainly reminded him of something very unpleasant happened a while before.

Tonight you were hurt and you hurt, a worse evening cannot exist.

The next day, a timid light invades the living room of the Miller's home, you find yourself opening your eyes slowly and looking around, on the coffee table there's a small wooden sculpture - the one Joel was carving last night - in the shape of a guitar.

When did he make it?

Didn't he sleep?

You sit up taking off the midnight blue blanket Joel gave you just before he took leave and went upstairs. He treated you courteously, but you felt as if he had already wanted to distance himself from you, and you are really sorry about that. You didn't intend to hurt him or bring to his mind old, painful memories.

You get up and take the small guitar in your hands, then notice a very small note placed underneath the same small guitar, "This is for you."

"Thank you." you whisper, turning between your fingers the small guitar.

Then, you go to the kitchen, you want some coffee, some water, but you don't know if....

You find there another small post-it note posted on the refrigerator, "If you want to drink or eat, help yourself. The bathroom is on the second floor at the far left."

His hospitality makes you feel even more guilty, he's so sweet and you were so mean to him. You wish you hadn't been hit by Jack's sweetness; you wish you had been hit by Joel right away. You sigh and grab a glass, open the refrigerator and see that it's in a terrible condition: there is a bottle of water, a package of eggs and a lemon only. You pour yourself some water, and then you have an idea: you're going to shop for him. Or rather, you're going to help him shop for groceries.

You drink a glass of water and make yourself a cup of coffee. Then, you make one for him, too, and you go upstairs. Up the stairs is a landing area with two side cabinets. On one of the cabinets there is a framed photo of Joel and Tommy.

Once you get upstairs, you immediately notice five rooms: two have the door open, therefore, you see inside them a room full of sculptures, guitars and other paraphernalia whose use you ignore, in another there is a small studio with a desk and a worktop, the other three rooms have the door closed therefore you imagine that one is the bathroom and the other the bedroom, the third you don't know what could be there, maybe another bedroom. On the left there's the bathroom - as he had written to you - and one of the two closed rooms must be Joel's.

Knock. A couple of times, softly.

Then, you hear footsteps and finally the door opens: curly brown messy hair fall on his forehead, his eyes swollen with sleep, he's wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of very short shorts. At that moment you don't feel like you're looking at a forty-seven-year-old man, but a man of at most thirty-nine or forty.

"Good morning." you say unable to take your eyes off of him and the way he showed up at the door.

"Hi." he greets you with a sleepy voice, gives you his back and walks back to the bed sitting down again "You get any sleep?" he asks.

"Yes." you reply staying at the door.

"Come." he tells you and you enter slowly looking around noticing to the right a small walk-in closet, a shoe rack in the corner, a chest of drawers sits underneath a front facing window, with a carving of an eagle, a lamp, a candle, and two photo frames on top depicting Joel and a little girl, but you decide not to dwell on the pictures. In the middle there's a double bed, an armchair, two bedside tables. A small wall shelf has more books, binoculars, and a clock above it.

"D' ya wanna somethin'?" he asks.

"I brought you a coffee. I couldn't find the cup, so I put it in a plastic cup for you," you reply, handing him the coffee.

He looks at your face, then he gives a small smile and takes the small glass in his right hand.

"So smooth." he says, but you doubt he refers to the coffee because there's no record of sugar or sweetener in the house "Sit down." he still continues by resting his hand on the bed and gently patting the mattress inviting you to sit.

You sit at a short distance from him with your head down, not sure if he wants to talk about what happened last night or not.

"What d' ya plan to do now?" he asks you, and you look up at him questioningly "'bout your mother, I mean." he clarifies.

You sigh "I'm disappointed in her, but I can't just cut her out of my life," you reply, looking through the window "I'll have to talk to her sooner or later. I can't let whatever happened just happen. It's not fair," you add.

"So, you leaving now?" he asks you.

You look at him "If you think that's going to get rid of me, it's not!" you reply, smiling back at him "Get dressed, let's go shopping!" you add as you get up of bed.

"Shopping?" he asks confused.

"Yeah, y'know, those things people use to eat." you tease him.

"Witty!" he says shaking his head "I haven't been grocery shopping since..." he's about to answer, but he probably he can't remember exactly.

"I see." you cut short "I'll help you." you add "Come on, bear!" you exclaim teasing him.

"How dare you." he says, but you know he's joking. You know his tone of voice, when he's joking and when he's not.

You stick your tongue out, smiling at him and walking out of his room.

While you are waiting for him, you pick up your phone and notice you received several calls, texts and voice mails from your mother. You don't know if skip it or read and listen her texts, but then you decide not to stiffen up completely: you don't want to become hard and calculating like her.

"Honey, I know you don't want to talk to me. I know you feel betrayed by my attitude and my lies. We always promised each other to tell the truth, but I failed. I haven't had the courage to tell you about Leo and me, I don't know why-- maybe because I know deep down I'm not doing the right thing for me or for you. Leo is married and he will definitely not be the one-- he will never leave his wife, but I can't do this without him, that's the truth." your mother says in a voice mail "I feel guilty with you for two reasons and because I betrayed your trust by not telling you about him, but maybe for you I also betrayed your father. Honey, there is something about him I never had the courage to tell you. I will tell you about it, when that time and the memory hurt less too, I swear. Your father and I loved each other so much, but by now I don't know where he is or if he will ever intend to come back. I wouldn't know where to track him down, otherwise I think our separation would have been made official by now." she continues in a second voice mail "Anyway, I hope you are with someone who loves you and can make you feel protected, maybe someone who doesn't betray you or make you feel betrayed like I did. I love you." concludes the last voice mail, and hearing those words causes an ache in your stomach and a knot in your throat.

Joel appears at your side, you give him a long look, he doesn't say nothing. He doesn't ask you to explain, he doesn't comment, he nods only and squeeze your hand in a gesture of mute understanding.

How could you consider him as your music teacher only?

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us hbo #joel miller self insert #the last of us #joel fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #smut #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #dom!joel #dom!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #soft!joel miller #bittersweet ff

[1000roughdrafts]

i thought of one more (i'm sorry!): could i please request a teenage!winchesters and teenage!reader (samxreader as either crushes or bf/gf, sam and reader are like 13 and dean is 17) where reader is stuck with the brothers while her parents are hunting with john and reader is pmsing hard and sam is convinced that she's possessed by a demon and it's up to dean to give an awkward, impromptu facts of life lesson to the embarrassed reader and the embarrassed (but curious lol) sam?

Don't be sorry!! I'M sorry for not getting this out sooner!!!

Warnings: mention of menstruation, minor characters used, minor gore (with menstruation)

Word Count: 1.4k

Being the daughter of a hunter in debt to John Winchester, Y/N is frequently dragged from town to town and pawned off to the hands of a 17-year-old Dean Winchester while her dad helps John on a case. Y/N would protest this more if it weren't for the youngest Winchester, Sam, who she may have a little bit of a crush on. She'd never admit to it, but she usually looks forward to the time she gets to spend with him, even if it did mean being left out of the action of a hunt.

Today, however, is a different story, because Y/N is having a visit from what dad calls "shark week". When she first got it, she was terrified, and dad heard her screams from across the house. But all he ever said about it was that he wasn't expecting it so soon, and she was entering womanhood. When she asked if that meant she'd be able to go hunting with him, he laughed, and tossed a box of pads at her. "Absolutely not," he'd said.

Too consumed with rage, confusion, and this horrible twisting pain in her stomach, Y/N completely misses the look of excitement on Sam's face when she arrives. She angrily tosses her bag onto the floor by the door and immediately regrets it. She gives a curt goodbye to her dad and tries to shake away the weird feeling, but the more she tries to fight it, the worse it gets. She tries to take deep breaths the way her dad taught her until Sam interrupts. “Heya, Y/N! Dean and I were about to watch a show, you wanna join us?"

"No," she says flatly, surprising herself with her tone. She is unsure of what to call the emotions that bubble inside of her. It's like she wants to hug him after not seeing him for so long but punch him for not giving her any time to get settled. She isn't interested in watching anything when her stomach feels like it's being stabbed over and over by a million knives. She looks up just in time to see his face fall, and she's upset with herself for she'd just spoken to him. "'No, thank you', is what I meant to say, sorry," she says, plopping into the chair, wanting nothing more than to become invisible.

Sam shoots Dean a look of concern, but Dean just shrugs, saying, "chicks."

Shaking his head, Sam slowly and curiously approaches Y/N, studying her face carefully as he sits in the chair next to her. With a gentle shrug, he says, "that's okay, we can do something else," he suggests, still watching her face for anything out of the ordinary.

"I don't want to, Sam" she says, but her bottom lip quivers in regret. The words are coming out on their own as if her body, or this "Shark Week" has taken over her, leaving her without control of her own thoughts, emotions or words. She covers her face in an attempt to stifle the sobs that break out of her, and soon after she's laughing at the absurdity of it all. She takes a deep breath, and relaxes into the seat, "I'm sorry," she says, "again. We can watch TV."

Sam's eyebrows furrow as he looks to Dean, smiling away at the magazine, and then back to Y/N, "are you okay, Y/N?" he asks.

"Yes! Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay!" she growls, "first my dad, then John, now you!"

Sam is taken aback by this, and that's when he notices that her hand is held tightly on her stomach. Suddenly, it all makes sense. Sam is confident that this isn't Y/N, that Y/N is in there somewhere, fighting to be free from whatever demon is possessing her.

"Okay!" he says, hands held up to her, "it's just... you're not you today, is all," he frowns. She glares at him, and for a moment he swears her eyes flickered black! He gasps, jumping out of his seat, "Dean, can I talk to you outside, please?"

"Oh, jeeze, Sam. Relax, would ya?" Dean says without looking up from his magazine, "just give the girl some space."

"Dean," Sam whispers through clenched teeth, taking a step closer to him, "I don't think that's a girl anymore."

Y/N stands from her chair, "what did you just say?" she snarls.

Sam swallows hard, "no, it's just..." he looks at his brother for help, but all Dean can do is laugh. With a frown, Sam looks at Y/N again. There's definitely something different about her, an anger in her face that he's never seen before. He whispers something to Dean that Y/N can't hear.

Y/N crosses her arms, "hmm?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Dean laughs, but Sam hurries to grab a glass of holy water. With a shaky hand, he turns to approach Y/N.

"Woah! What the Hell do you plan on doing with that?" she asks, taking a few steps back.

"See, Dean! I told you!"

"You think I'm possessed?" she cries, and then the realization hits her. Maybe there is a demon that has possessed her body! Maybe that's why her dad dropped her off here, or why he gave her the pads in case she needed to contain the demon somehow. It would certainly explain why she doesn't feel like she can control herself or her emotions. Her face flushes, and her whole body gets hot. She rushes to the window to let in some fresh air, but before she could get to it, Sam dumps the water on her, drenching her face and hair.

"Woah woah woah," Dean says, jumping up to stand between Sam and Y/N.

"No! Dean, she could be a demon!" Sam shouts, his voice cracking.

"Sam, no, I promise she's not a demon." Dean turns to look at Y/N as she wipes the water and tears off her face. "Listen, uh, why don't you two sit down?" he sighs. He pops into the bathroom to grab a towel, and tosses it to Y/N, "here. There's a blanket over there, too, if you want it."

Y/N only nods, taking the towel to her face and hair.

Dean rubs his hand down his face and looks at the wide eyes of the two kids in front of him. Sam nervously shakes his knee, continually glancing at Y/N to make sure she doesn't try anything. Dean pulls a chair from the table and props it in front of Sam and Y/N.

He flips it around to use the back of it as an arm rest. Sitting down, his eyes bounce from Y/N's tearful, red face to Sam's, and he laughs when he sees how scared his little brother is. In a chuckle, he looks directly at Y/N and says, "our dads suck for not explaining this to either of you," his eyes move to Sam. He shakes his head again, thinking of how ridiculous it is that he has to be the one to have the 'birds and the bees' conversation with them.

"What Y/N is going through is perfectly normal," he says, looking from Sam to Y/N, "it's called a 'period', and it's when the lining of your uterus sheds, which causes you to bleed. Hence the pads. And the change in hormones is what causes mood swings, not a demonic possession," he sighs, "any questions? No? Okay, good," he says, smacking his legs with his hands before standing up.

"Wait, Dean," Sam says, twisting his fingers in his hand, "why does it shed, though?" he whispers, looking over at Y/N, who shies away from his glance.

"Something to do with the egg not being fertilized. It's part of the reproduction process," Dean sighs.

"Reproduction? But how does the egg get fertilized? And what happens when it does?" Sam asks.

"You are making it sound like I'm a chicken or something," Y/N snorts.

Dean quickly moves the chair back to the table, "okay, no," he says hand up at Sam, "I'm not having that conversation with you two. You'll figure it out one day. In the meantime, Sam no more exorcists on poor Y/N."

Y/N sinks into her seat, trying to hide out of embarrassment from her body being the subject of conversation since she got here.

"I'm sorry," Sam squeaks, and Y/N can barely look him in the eyes, "I'm sorry for thinking you were a demon, Y/N."

Dean can't help but to laugh. "I'm gonna go out for some drinks from the vending machine. I'll be back."

"It's okay, Sam," Y/N whispers, "I kind of thought that, too for a minute," she giggles. "Can we watch that show, now?"

“Sure, Y/N,” he smiles, clicking the remote

----

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 29 | I'll always be by your side

Pairing | Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Avenger!Girlfriend!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.4K

Summary | What was supposed to be a comfortable, easy Sunday turned into one of the worst as you're caught off guard by your period and in horrible pain. Luckily, your boyfriend, Tony, is by your side the entire time to make you feel better and spoil you absolutely rotten.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Light angst, lots of fluff, extreme menstrual cramps, mentions of a period, descriptions of period blood on sheets/clothing, and Tony is the best boyfriend ever.

Prompt(s) | 29. “Hey, wake up!” | @flufftober

A/n | Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for inspiring this sugary sweet Tony fic now that I am going through my monthly hell! I appreciate the thought you put into this fic along with me, and it wouldn't be this perfect without you 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF credit goes to @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

Tony left early in the morning to work in his lab, seeing how it was a rainy Sunday at the beginning of October. You didn't have any plans for the day, so he let you sleep in, seeing how you'd returned from a month-long mission a few days ago.

As always, he'd leave you with some small kisses on your forehead, and even in your sleep, you always smiled when you got them, and it is one of the many things Tony finds endearing about you.

However, your peaceful state was rudely interrupted when you were pulled from your sleep with a horrific case of cramping from your uterus, notifying you that your period had begun.

"Are you okay, Ms Y/L/N? Should I call Mr Stark up here?" Jarvis asks, and all you can let out is a whimper of pain as you're doubled over, clutching your stomach in the hopes it'll go away soon, but if your past has taught you anything, this won't be the case.

Meanwhile, Tony gets a very concerning message from his AI in the lab. "Sir? It appears that Mrs Y/L/N is very distressed-" is all he hears before he practically flies out of the lab and up to where you are.

Taking the stairs instead of the elevator so he will reach you sooner, he almost breaks down the door when he hears your sobs tear through the entire bedroom.

"Gorgeous?! Are you okay? What's going on?!" Tony asks frantically, but you can't speak as you're already struggling to breathe from the sobbing, and the pain only worsens everything.

He gets onto the bed and pulls the comforter away, but he doesn't need to ask what's wrong because there's a lot of blood on the sheets and the mattress since you always have an extremely heavy flow.

"Oh, Gorgeous, I'm so sorry," Tony sighs worriedly, knowing just how bad your pain must be by now. You can't look at him as he comes over because you're embarrassed about the state you're in right now.

"Shall I run a bath for you? You can take some painkillers before, and I will climb in with you for extra cuddles; maybe I can massage your lower belly if you want to relieve some of your cramping and pain," he asks.

You can't answer as your entire body shakes and shocks through your tears and sobs as the pain worsens, and you're only curling in further.

Tony takes the hint and runs you a nice hot bath with a calming scent and extra bubbles before he comes to fetch you out of bed and ready for the bath he just ran.

"C'mere Gorgeous, you're going to be okay; I'm with you, okay? I'll always be here with you," he whispers in your ear as he carries you to the bathroom, where he sits you down on the counter, blood be damned.

Your eyes are tightly shut as you try to breathe deeply in and out between the sobs rocking through your body with more significant intervals, trying to pick yourself together.

You don't know that Tony has ordered Happy to buy you a couple of things as a care package for when you get out of the bath, with many things to help you feel better.

"C'mon, Gorgeous, let's get some medicine into you, and then we're getting into the warm, relaxing water," he says, and you nod before taking the medicine. Tony hands you together with some water.

When that's gone, you slowly open your eyes again and look up at Tony with a watery smile as if you're still on the verge of crying. You look into Tony's comforting dark brown eyes of your boyfriend.

"Hi, Gorgeous," he whispers as he places his big, warm hands on your cheeks, pulling you towards him as he meets you halfway with a kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and lastly, a small kiss on your lips, which you melt into.

"Shall we get you out of these clothes and into the bath? I promise it'll make you feel better," he reassures you, and you let him undress you, your shirt and bra gone first, before standing up and taking your pants and underwear off.

Both of them are completely ruined, and you look at them with disgust as you sigh, clutching your lower belly as you lean into Tony's touch, letting his big, strong arms envelop you into a warm hug.

"Let's get you into the warm water first, and I'll be right with you, okay?" he asks, and you nod before he guides you in and makes sure you get into the water safely.

"I'll be here in a few minutes; I'm just going to change the sheets so they will be nice and clean when we get in, okay?" he asks as he sits on his haunches, and you nod. Before he walks away, he puts on your favorite music, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of the water, hands splayed on your lower abdomen.

Tony takes the clothes you were with him before stripping the bed and putting new sheets on, right when Happy knocks on the door with the basket he bought.

Inside is a huge, thick blanket with hearts, a mint green fuzzy pajama with matching fuzzy socks, a new hot water bottle, your favorite tea flavor, some snacks including your favorite chocolate, and a book from your wishlist.

After a quick thanks, he puts it on the bed so it'll be front and center when you return. He quickly undresses and walks back into the bathroom, where he finds you lying contently in the bath, softly singing along to the music.

"How's everything feeling, Gorgeous?" he asks as you sit up, ready for him to slide in behind you. When he's seated, you let yourself melt into his touch, and his hands slide over your stomach and to your lower abdomen to massage softly.

You let out soft groans as he digs his fingers softly into your flesh to relax you, your head against his shoulder as you feel the pain slowly fade underneath his touch, combined with the painkillers he gave you.

"Just relax for me, Gorgeous; you're okay; I got you," he says between soft kisses on your cheek, leaving you utterly speechless from the sweetness he's putting into every little touch and word.

The warmth of the water and the relaxing scent of lavender is seeping into your skin, relaxing you entirely until you manage to sleep a little, and Tony can't help but smile at the soft snores leaving you.

He keeps his hands on your belly in a protective manner before the water gets too cold and he has to wake you up, much to your dismay.

"Hey, it's time to wake up, Gorgeous," Tony says as he softly nudges you, and with a groan, you open your eyes and sit forward, though you don't want to leave his warm and strong embrace.

"It'll be worth it, I promise," he says as he stands up and wraps a towel around his waist before helping you up too. When you're out, he wraps you in the fluffiest and biggest towel, and you're wrapped up like a burrito.

"How're you feeling after your nap? Ready to eat something?" Tony asks, and you nod, finally able to walk normally without cramping, though you're still uncomfortable.

When you're dry and wearing clean underwear with a pad, you're making your way to the bedroom with Tony plastered to your back as he's functioning as a human hot water bottle with his hands.

When you see the basket on the bed, you stop as you see the sight before you and want to turn around to thank him for arranging it.

"Thank you for caring for me, but can I wear the pajamas now? Because they look very comfortable," you say in almost a whisper, and he nods with a big smile before letting you go and rummage through the package.

"Shall we watch a movie on the couch today? You can pick the movie and bring as many snacks as you want," he offers, and you gladly accept before putting on the pajamas and fuzzy socks, getting ready for your movie to watch together.

When Tony comes back with a bowl of your favorite caramel popcorn and a big mug filled with tea, your heart skips a beat from pure love, and when he sits down, you can't keep it to yourself, and it will be the first time you tell him these special words.

"I love you, Tony."

#flufftober 2023 #day 29 #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #iron man #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark angst #tony stark fluff #iron man fanfiction #iron man fanfic #iron man one shot #iron man imagine #iron man x female reader #iron man x reader #iron man x y/n #iron man angst #iron man fluff

[tikus-library]

"The Truth"

Avengers AU - One Shot

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader

Posted: July 26th

WARNINGS: angst? Mean Bucky, Cruel Bucky, no happy ending, angsty- angst

A/N: I was drunk, and my drunk brain is not nice.

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

Read on Ao3

"Its not you- it's never been you," he sighed, a hand going to his forehead as he leaned back.

You blinked at him, "what? Bucky?" What was he saying? You just wanted to see him smile, sit next to him– "I don't-"

He dropped his arm, looking over at you, expression serious. Gone was the warmth that came with a soft expression, a look of fondness, your heart dropped, throat tightening, blood growing cold.

Bucky ran a hand over his face, he hated this- he hated the way your eyes flicked to the exit, the way your smile slipped. He had to do this, "I kept you around because you reminded me of HER." He watched you take the smallest step back, saw the way your eyes glistened, how you stomped down on the emotions quickly.

"Oh."

He huffed a laugh, "no, I don't think you get it and I need you to understand me. I need you to not think- it needs to be prefectly clear. I don't want or need you here. Prancing around with your bubbly smile, talking so fucking much– God the way you go on, and you can't even keep on a single conversation jumping around from one thing to the next because your head doesn't work the same as others?! Jesus fucking Christ!" He saw you flinch, fingers curling into fists as you shrank back.

"I know the others think it's adorable and they want to keep you around like some fucking mascot, yet I need you to know you are nothing but a liability! You're gonna get someone killed and what then? You'll just smile and sunshine your way through it?"

"Bucky–" you started.

He swiped a hand through the air, cutting you off, "we are not friends, you don't call me Bucky," he bit out harshly, baring his teeth, "it's Sergeant to you got it?" He took a step towards you and watched as you instinctively took one back, "the only reason I kept you around was because you looked like her, but every time you opened your mouth- you only proved you couldn't even be an ounce of her shadow. You could never even dream of being her."

You swallowed and nodded, biting the inside of your lip and slowly exhaled, dropping your chin. You didn't mean to be a bother, you tried to keep everyone happy, you thought it helped. "Yes Sergeant," you whispered brokenly, "I'll go…"

"God that would be so fucking fantastic, just fucking leave. If only you'd fucking transfer and save everyone the fucking problem of having to deal with your face for another God damn second." He growled, rolling his eyes at your trembling lip, "don't fucking do that either– you won't find sympathy here," he scowled, looking disgusted.

You jerked back, stifling a shocked gasp. The ache in your chest grew, throbbing as it clogged your throat and burned at the back of your eyes, what had it been then? You asked yourself, nodding mutely and turning blindly to stumble out of the room. He had laughed before, had dropped a thick arm around your shoulders, arms wrapping around you to tighten into a bear hug, had laughed alongside you. You reached out and grasped the hallway wall, it hadn't been alongside you, he had been laughing at you? Had you really been mistaken this entire time?

You scrambled to find something- anything. The mission had been routine. Sweeping through the building, mining hidden data, clearing the deserted compound and destroying any left over files. It was routine. There hadn't been civies to expose to danger. Nothing had gone awry it was….

It was just the truth.

Bucky ha– Sergeant had just finally told you the truth.

#avengers au #the truth #bucky barnes #reader #one shot #angst #no happy ending

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"You don't know my name, do you? Will you ever?"

Summery: beomgyu keeps his promises--he walks you from and sometimes to work, hangs out there with you. its all very comfortable and usual for the both of you. he even orders the same thing every time he comes in: your wonderful hot chocolate you make him. noting is new, its all been done before a thousand times between the two of you. why? you and Beomgyu have been friends for ever. that's great. You and him have also become a sort of... intertwined. more than just being together; youve grown together. also great. but what happens when you do something out of the ordinary? or rather, maybe the two of you stop keeping your promises and let the feelings youve pushed down so hard you feel like youre about to combust bubble up? also great.

a/n: long hair gyuuuuuu based on 'you don’t know my name'!!!!! its one of my favorite (if not my singular favorite) song by her. and besides... come on y'all, its beomgyu so I had to lol. yerin and I talked about this during he 300 subs special (even though SHE doesn't seem to remember it lmao) so here I am holding up my end of the deal and making my fic based on this song. if you liked it please leave some love such as commenting and or reblogging!

warnings/info: slow burn I guess, kissing, reader and Beomgyu go to a party, mentions of people fucking, Beomgyu gets in an extremely heated argument with a complete stranger at said party, I feel like I ranted a bit too much with the fic, a little poem-ish at times I think, reader and gyu are scared to go into uncharted territory with thier friendship, lots and lots and lots of talk of reader and beomgyu needing to control themselves around each other, cursing, beomgyu being sweet and them slow dancing cause that's a warning in itself, one joke about beomgyu and reader fucking? idk its not said explicitly tho this was way too self indulgent I apologize, friends to lovers, reader is gn.

~this is simply a piece of fiction. my imagination onto "paper." this is in now way meant to be taken as an actual or real representation of anyone~

••••••••••••••••••••••

A sharp, wind chime sounding ping makes you spring out of your thoughts to look at the door. Your smile. Huh right on the dot. Your eyes are met with the handsome fetures of your most frequent customer: beomgyu. Hair touching the nape of his neck and eyes bright as ever despite the mugginess outside. though its not all bad-- it makes him remember how one time last winter on your usual walk-from-your-work-with-him, he had stood behind you and wrapped you in his coat, bringing you flush with his clothed chest. it was oversized on him and noting, he thinks, could have prepared him for how you melted into him.

you noticed his wandering eyes and raise you voice to snap him out of it.

“why do you look like that?” you ask. it’s slow at work right now and you say that because you don’t want him to notice your heart pounding. You know if you don’t distract him he’ll do so. He pays enough attention and knows you all too well to hide it. “oh I dunno I just went for a run. No! It’s because it’s raining buckets out there!” “Yeah YOU running? That didn’t sound right” his mouth hangs open a little "um excuse you." he puffs his chest out. "I-I run." the way he's shaking his head while speaking gives him away if you already didn't know him so well. maybe a little too well. but, you tried not to think about that too much. how you

“I’ll have the hot chocolate” he says, although you know what would fall out of his lips just the Same as last time, and the time before that. And many roles before. You know how he likes it (extra sweet. “Just like you” he says. Before you squeeze you nose) but seriously you don’t think you’ve ever known someone who liked such a sugary thing. It nearly tasting like straight candy

“not many people order hot chocolate in the summer. You sure you want that?” “Yeah, it’s a comforting drink ya know.” Something he always used to drink as a kid. Before he met you. Before he didn’t have to watch what he said around someone like you because of half giddy and half eyes to the floor bashfulness he’ll feel if he slips up and gets a little too flirty. Says something a little too strong to you. Not that you’d mind. No, not at all. But he doesn’t need to know you feel that way.

"Yeah but with everything?" you ask, still making it but wondering anyways. He leans further in, putting his hands on the table. "How come you're just asking me this now? we've been doing this for such a long time and now is when it pops into your mind that it's weird to have it with breakfast, lunch, and dinner?" you roll your eyes at him. but really, you weren't annoyed at all. the truth was you awaited the never-the-same times he'd come in and order that same, warm and comforting drink. (it depend on his classes, and or what he had to do inbetween) It had gotten on the point where one of the other workers there would tap your shoulder and let you know that he was there when you didn't notice.

"your guy is here." one of the workers there would tell you. In a moment of weakness, beomgyu would pop into your mind and your eyes would go wide as you looked for him. "he's not my guy." you'd try and cover your tracks but with the knowing smile on your work friends face as they walked away, you knew it wasn't any use.

"we've been doing this forever." his words rung in your ears. he was right. you had been. you'd both been seeing each other so much and resisting the bubbling urge to kiss the shit out of each other. You'd been inching dangerously close to him, but never as close as you really wanted and craved, the warmth of his heart ghosting your skin... forever. he'd been avoiding your gaze-- the one that made him feel like all the four seasons were swirling up inside him and somehow all their wonder landing in you, seeping out in all the little things you did... forever. To be honestly, neither of you knew how long you could keep this up.

but here you are, thinking of and loving noting more than seeing his eyes fill with excitement as you hand him the mug. he cups it with both his hands even though it isn't cold inside so it wasn't like he needed to warm his hands. "You know, you should just keep your own mug here." you comment. he looks up at you, about to take a sip and obviously not very happy you interrupted his almost-bliss. though, in his mind, it wasn't that different-- no, it could not compare to the feeling he got around you. "Or maybe I should just bring one with me." he jokes, lips pursing to blow the steam off the surface of the delicious smelling drink. "Yeah," you nod, "and bring a plate while you're at it-- you know what," you lean on the counter in front of him, knuckles going under your chin and fingertips folded enough to touch the beginning of your palm. And he'd rather not look at you through the fog emanating from the porcelain mug so he puts it down, leaning in for dramatic effect. "Better yet, take it with you when you leave so I don't have to wash it!" you eyes go wide and you throw your hands up like you just had the best idea of the century-- better than sliced bread.

he puts a hand to his chest, leans back with his mouth hung wide open, and then gets up with his hands to his head pulling at his hair like he just had an epiphany. you laugh freely as he walks around in a circle. once he's back at the counter he slams his hands down on the edge of it and looks all serious. "You've got it, y/n! this is gonna make history!" he exclaims. You take a bow just for kicks and when you come back up his expression has suddenly changed. its gone much... softer, a smile is tugging at his lips and he can't help it but to let it free once he sees your smiling face again... smiling because of him, too. because of the joy you two make together. its unmatched, really. His fingertips feel flushed like his face, and aren't holding on so tightly to the cold metal edge of the counter. he's leaning in now, for what reason he doesn't really know. damn, he wants and fucking needs to be closer to you. he feels it in his core.

Then, he makes the mistake of looking into your eyes and in an instant you send him on a whirlwind. usually he distracts himself and looks at something else but he just couldn't bring himself to this time. He wants to set up an easel and capture your entire expression right here but your eyes... your eyes he's sure made his plan he's trying to stick to of not getting caught in your gaze. or, better yet, not getting caught gazing at you. but, for someone he knows so well and for so long, it wasn't easy. because, every time you speak, every time he looks at you, every time he even thinks of you, his mind starts to cloud with all the goodness he sees inside you. every inch of your mind he knows and all the other filled up spaced he wants to adventure into.

How could he stop his mind from getting tied up in the wonder of a human that was you? He sure couldn't, and nobody in their right mind would be able to. He snaps himself out of his thinking before you can think to do it yourself. Lord knows if you caught him spacing out at a time like this you'd give him one of your infamous smacks on the ears and he'd shriek so loud out of surprise people outside would hear him. "You're making me waste valuable time on drinking this." he chuckled, holding a finger up to you to signal: one minute, as he takes a few big gulps. he puts the cup down and leans back.

"one of your best, y/n." he complements.

you raise an eyebrow. "Oh? so there's a hierarchy and competition for best of y/ns hot chocolate now? if I would've known I would've made it look all cute." you said, getting back to work behind the counter. the place was pretty dead at the moment but there was still a few things needing tone done. "Come to think of it, I should deduct points for not putting a cinnamon heart on the surface." he wonders aloud. "Oh so just a heart would suffice? noting else?" you ask him. "well why not?" he nearly giggles, "Thought you loved me." You simply smile and roll your eyes at him, not really having the opurtunity to have any type of conversation like that here. although you wanted to. and it didn't really have to go the way you intended it. but if he-- or the both of you for that matter, were gonna go there, then you might as well and a full on sit down talk about it. again not that you didn't want to at all-- in fact, you'd thought about how it'd go down plenty more times then truly necessary. And what better place to have it in than where you two had met?

maybe it was just you making excuses for yourself; for putting it off just one more day. one more week. one more month. or basically one more eternity of longing stares and cut of sentences where, you wanna say more but ultimately fail to. the conversation now seemingly over, he shrugs and finishes his drink.

He stays and orders another extra extra sweet, practically caffeinated, slap you in the face to jolt you into operating at top speed crack drink that was his or your signature hot chocolate. this is a habit of his-- one he'd likely have to break soon if this floating feeling of his keeps up and un-in check. but a habit the both of you cherish-- where he comes in and stays until you have to leave. most of the time you don't even get to talk much. but the comfort that comes right along with your presence around each other makes up for it. thats another habit with the two of you: just being in the same room and doing different things. it was pure comfort just being around each other. maybe looking over and smiling at the other or striking up a conversation that could last a minute or the rest of time he was there or in other situations, the rest of time you'd were together-- however long you both wanted it, really. and it was never awkward, either. the silence never aching.

that's how it was when you first started walking back to your respective places after your shift. another habit of his, one you hope, along with the others, would never die. him staying for a while, talking a bit... or a lot with you, then walking together. usually it was him walking you home but others it'd just be whatever you two wanted that day. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his acid washed jeans when you look over at him.

"Did you grow or something?" you question.

"maybe you shrunk, hm?" he countered.

you narrowed your eyes at him. he turns to you and does the same. "Very adult of you." You scoff. "You started--" then, realizing that continuing to say was he was going to wasn't going to help his case in the slightest. It barely falls silent for a second before he, in a moment of either weakness or some extreme courage he doesnt know, he slows down a little, gently puts his hands onto your waist, finger finding place scrunched in your shirt, and stills you. though, with the rapid beating of your heart you didn't need any help to do so. He gently moves you to the inside of the sidewalk. he doesn't know why. it's kinda stupid really. he doesn't even have a reason expect that's how you two are usually walking. but it isn't ever really intentional. Usually he just gets out the door of the diner first and you follow soon after. but he liked it that way. it felt warm and comfortable.

he clears his throat. "So, you were saying?" you look back up at him, not too stunned to speak or anything just....thinking. time still in its frozen capsule like it was a moment ago with his hands on your waist. "I feel like you've grown." you say simply, verbally shrugging. he takes a look at his own arms as if that would give him an idea as to what you're talking about. "I know you haven't but," you sigh, unsure of where you're even going with this, "I dunno you seem different." the both of you are still facing forward, not having looked at each other since a minute ago. "Is that a good thing or a bed thing?" You smile. "good. definitely good." "that's good that it's good." he laughs.

"oh piss off!" You chuckle at him, shaking you head. a second later you don't hear his steps anymore and turn around to see him saying "gladly." and start to walk in the other direction. You yell at him to get his ass back here and he turns on his heel, trotting back to you with a smile on his face, eyes hidden by his hair as he looks down. "But yeah," you say once he's back to walking beside you, "You've defiantly grown. not in height, but how you are as a person now." he hums. "I guess I can see that. you have too, you know?" you quirk and eyebrow.

"like--" he takes a breath, "You've grown... not like you act completely different now, but you've just--" you get what he's trying to say. "Blossomed?" He nods, but before he can start talking again you're already opening your mouth. "So have you. Not like you weren't someone I wanted to spend a lot of time with when were first met but you've grown into this person who-who has so much depth to them. like sure, you look a little different and youve changed your hair countless times, but I think you've bloomed in a way. And I love that you have; that you've made yourself out to be who you are right now." he purses his lips together.

"hey, it's not all me, ya know? Ive only been able to grow the way you said I have because I've got you by my side. actually, no, more than that, I've got you coaching me and trying to help. And have you taken a look In the mirror? its not just me that's grown internally since we've both met. I feel like... You're more you know than you were before. or at least not as afraid to show who you are." "that's cause I have you cheering me on, beom." he smiles at the nickname, something you've had for him forever. just like how you've been learning each other inside and out forever. But he also smiles at himself. he was your personal hype man, as you'd say, wasn't he? "And im really proud of you for flourishing like you have." he says. "Im proud of us." you counter, "for both becoming more than we were before."

all that was missing was two glasses to toast. "Yeah, and we're achieving that together, too. we have been forever. and I know that's why its unfolding so beautifully-- it takes the two of us to pull something so great off like that." you try not to get all fluttery inside by the prospect of him thinking that you're "great." cause there isn't much to it, really. plain and simple. he thinks you're great... or the journey youve taken with him so far is great or whatever... it should stop there for you. but that's the thing: with him, it never does.

It kinda hits the both of you right in the face at that moment. and you realize all you need to know about how the other person feels the same way when your caught looking at each other and saying more or less the same thing of: "wow, I think our lives are intwined now and I love that."

as the minutes go on, you both talk about some of the ways youve seen this with each other-- growing internally as youve both said. You bring up something, then him, it goes on like this until you both have a realization. "...But seriously, though." you cause, "Im glad that we're like this." "Im happy we can be like this too. and to be honest, I don't just want to be a better person, I wanna be a better person with you." he quickly cocks his head to the side, almost like he was punctuating his sentence. "I was just about to say that! I like growing with you. it's amazing. and you make me want to be better. not in a competitive way though. I just wanna move along with life with you next to me."

He puts a hand to his chest, hopping it would distract him from how fast his heart was beating. It had the opposite affect, though, drawing his attention to it under his palm. "Im glad youve been in my life for so long." he says, wondering jut how far he was going to take all this confessing how wonderful it was to have you by his side. wouldn't this make more of an impact on he both of you than just making you smile? or was he making it more than it was? he probably was to be honest; friends tell each other how much they value each other all the time. just... probably the ones who's heart feels like its about to lift him up and fly him away to the moon, stay away from it.

"And I am glad we're in each others lives to often that we can brighten each others days whenever the other needs it." he nods in agreement, not trusting himself to talk more because he'll surely say all that he thinks of you... and us. the rest of the walk is spent back in the comfortable, fireplace like silence like the first couple minutes of it. Once you get to your front door and your back is turned, he draws in a breath. "It is wonderful to have you in my life, y/n. I don't think you can understand how great it is and how much I love it." you're about to swing open your door but you turn around to look in the eye. "Me too. I love how it feels to have you by my side." you really wish you had something more to say but it seems like its enough for him. cause a second later and he's nearly skipping away from your door. You shake you head at him and go inside.

He scratches the back of his neck, thinking entirely too much about what you had said to him. There was a thousand ways you could have meant hit but for some reason he only wanted to think of it as one. the one where you actually secretly wanted to kiss him every time you hugged goodbye. One where you'd invite him into your place for hot chocolate and he'd stay, and long, long while; only really going back to his home for clothes cause fuck, if he had you like that he wouldn't dream of letting you go or leaving you for as long as he could.

God, It was almost uncanny how, you knew what to call him, but his name? that was something else entirely it felt like now.HIs own name had come to be you. that was how much you were written on his heart; written like law on stone. so engraved in his mind that he felt like you were with him all his life... except with this it was more like someone who knew him his entire life but suddenly stoped paying attention for a very important mile marker, then suddenly started up paying attention again, completely glossing over something that was so important to him. Like his name: but now youve replaced it with your own an the wasn't mad about it. and you didn't know, did you? would you ever know his name?

and, in the middle of all his swirling like a hurricane that brought peace instead of distruction, he wondered if you were ever feeling the same thing. did you think of him the way he thought of you?

He knew everything about you, as did you, he, you thought as you slipped off your shoes at the door. But you figured that, since friends need to be honest as much as they can, that wasn't entirely true. cute there was this one, not so small thing youve never shared with him. something that was such a big part of you it might as well be your name. The way you felt when he was near, when you thought of him, fuck, even when someone mentioned him. at this point, him-- and feeling this was about him was such a bug thing that it had become a part of you. he had become a part of you. and just like a name it was something you wanted and needed to tell the whole world. including him.

but there was the problem, you couldn't just scream it out for everyone to hear. that's why youve been waiting. Even though it was takin g a long time for him to figure out that big giant part of you that thad become as second nature as a name. Beomgyu was smart, but apparently he was stupid when it came to this. but seriously, with all the slip ups youve been having recently, you're starting to wonder if he's deliberately not understanding you and your feelings. Like is he that dense or does he just not want you?

You shoot him a message none the less; telling him to text when he got home unless you'll start to worry.

===

The next time you talk was on the phone on your way to work. He likes to walk you there, too. but today just happened to be one of those days where it couldn't happen. But you missed his presence on the street that reminded you of the talk you had yesterday so the next best thing was to call him. "Hey, it's the server from the diner." You say. "yeah, I know." It was a throwback to when he'd given his number to the place so he could get a free delivery. Though he was hoping you'd pick up on it and call him. and you did. you were the one who had to call to let him know his order had arrived and was currently getting cold outside his door. you had ended the call with him apologizing profusely.

One thing lead to another and you made a follow up call on how the food tasted. you heard him smiling from the other end of the phone as he says, "great as always." You barely thought he would even pick up so you didn't know what to say after that. "especially the hot chocolate." he aded then. And now you're the one smiling uncontrollably. After a few minutes on the phone that day your heart is leaping with excitement. so the next time he comes in, you talk with each other more freely. and now you had his number so when he doesn't come in for a few days you remembered mustering up the courage to text him. "I really wanted to come over there. hot chocolate would probably help cure whatever I have." you felt stupid. duh of course he was just sick, why were you so worried?

within the hour, hot chocolate was delivered to his door free of cost.

and that's when the friendship began; with him texting you an entire paragraph just to say thanks for the gesture and you two talking back and forth, heart seemingly on the edge of its seat, about hot chocolate and hot drinks in general.

"You know... our manager is always telling us to use water," you repeat now what you said all that time ago, "But I always use milk and cream for you." He's snapped back to the present, with you on the other end of the phone, wind whipping in the mic. "aww you really do care, don't cha?" he laughs, smug smile gracing his lips.he can practically hear you roll your eyes from the other end of the phone. "your welcome." you drawled. "I sincerely thank you for your sacrifice of cream and milk." he said, and it sounds like a joke, but still he's smiling in gratitude none the less. youre about to joke about how he needs to repay you... somehow. but he beats you to it. though... with the way he starts off, it doesn't sound like fully a joke. but just enough of one where he knows you'll listen.

"And as a formal expression of my forever debt to you, I invite you to attend a party with me." You figured you'd play along, his tone not serious enough for you to spend the brain power to actually think of an answer. "yeah, sure, Beom." It was about as real to you as the both of you staying completely quiet during a movie so you played along. at least, you thought you were playing. beomgyu puts his speaker of his phone up to his mouth, nearly making your ears bleed as he yells into it: "no take backs!" then promptly hangs up.

you roll your eyes at him, a little concerned for future you and him but cracking up none the less. The surprised expression on your face when he comes by later to quote "take the both of you shopping for the party the next day." was so priceless he wished he had whipped out his phone quick enough. "I keep my promises." he reminds you as he sits down at his usual bar stool. And he sure does, like the one he's been keeping, weighing on his heart for so long he feels like its going to crack it n a million pieces impossible to pick up, about just how much he feels for you. he made that promise to you to stick by you as friends for as long as you'd have him there long enough to be forgotten. but now him. he remembers it like it was yesterday and he intends to keep his word, especially to you. who knows which way it would take you if he didn't. and the last thing he needs is for you two to be torn apart.

he slumps on the counter and gives you puppy dog eyes. you sigh "No one told me you were serious. that was coercion; I did not understand the phrasing of the question, therefore--" oh, you wanted court of law? he'd give you court of law. "uh uh" he wriggles his finger in your face. "was this under a false pretense? maybe. but did that initially give you the right to call back and or ask further questions? yes. so for that reason youre guilty!" he slams an imaginary gavel down on the white counter. you turn around to take a breath. he kicks his feat. "come on, y/n! I think it'll be fun. and if not then we'll leave right away and go to my place to watch tv. and we'll get a cute outfit out of it either way!" you think about it for a moment. "I need deodorant anyways!"

well it is important not to have a stench.....

he can tell youre thinking about it and he perks up at the sight of your wheels turning behind your eyes. it was one of this favorite things-- watching you think, weigh your options and all. It wasn't like you completely didn't want to go. there was a part of you, one that was soon going to get bigger youre sure. but a part of you right now none the less. so what was stopping you? you wanted to be close to him. you loved being close to him and that meant doing things together. but in an environment like this.... it might pose a problem to lips kept tightly shut and secrets you held behind your back.

You take one last look at him, and if it's a regular response between friends or in a slip up you don't know, but you agree. he nearly jumps up out of his seat in celebration. Why did he suggest this? who knows. was this a good idea? who. the fuck. knows. maybe because he wanted to do something with you. but it was probably something more than that it the back of his mind that made him call you and ask. but he knows full well what almost happened the last time you two went to a party together. a bunch of "aww youre so cute together!" made it seem all a little too real after a while and as the night went on with him eventually stopping himself from telling the truth to these people and him getting seemingly eaten from the inside when he stopped just reviling in the fantasy and remembered that no, youre not together. The night ended somehow with you two coming dangerously close to kissing.

maybe he really just wanted to spend time with you; a sort of do-over. he could control himself this time. or maybe that's what it was... he wanted to test the waters again-- challenge himself and see if he really could have self control. or maybe, just maybe, in the back of his mind he wanted to test the waters another way. maybe he wanted to know if it'd happen again. of course he wouldn't do anything about it; he wanted to keep his promise to you but something felt like it was knocking at the back of his mind.

once your shift is done, he's got a spring in his step as he opens the door for the both of you and bouncing on his heels with a smile on his face telling you to hurry up. and no, you don't just go shopping for deodorant... but instead spend two full hours shopping around. two full hours that consisted of trying on clothes and the both of you having to bite your tongues. because fucking hell, why'd he have to have such a good style? you perk up as he steps out the dressing room for the third time, already preparing yourself for you heart seemingly about to beat out of your chest. "what do you think?" "I think..." his face sinks.... "oh--" he pouts, "no no! it looks great! its just, its white."

he quirks and eyebrow at you. "I have eyes, ya know? I did pick it out." he reminds you, nose and mouth scrunching up in that classic Beomgyu disgusted face. "spillage." you simply say. his eyebrows got up into his hairline. "youre right." the next out fit he comes out with, a little more spillage proof, is what he decides on. he takes another look in the mirror, sighing. "you really think it looks good?" he questions. "I have eyes, ya know?" you echo him. he spins around into the dressing room, away from you as quickly as possible so you didn't have to see the smile on his face and the rosy tint to his cheeks.

When it comes to you and picking out your outfits, while youre walking ahead of him to the dressing rooms, he closes his eyes, leaning his head against the wall so he can think for a moment. or... more stop himself form thinking so much than anything. he knows what he's getting himself into. but How you reacted each time he'd first appear out the dressing rooms door with that wistful glassy look in your eyes, almost like you yourself were trying to stop your gears turning.... Times like that gave him hope that maybe yeah, you felt the same way about him as he did you. because just for a short moment he saw the same look in his eyes that they had on him now; trying so hard to stop thinking about you. you, you, you, you.

"I think a round of applause is in order!" you say.-- twenty minutes in. twenty minutes of him bouncing his leg. twenty minutes of you hiding the way his complements make you feel. twenty minutes of the second you shut the door behind you him screaming internally into his palms and twenty minutes of you doing the same. he smiles at you when you come out. "I know. we have good taste." his cheeks seem to be nearly kissing at his lashes as he smiles and he's driving you crazy. "We do, don't we?" you take another look in the mirror.

"You really think it's--" Youre starting to stress over if the outfit really is worth the buy. you like it a lot. but now youre starting to wonder if its a little too little here or too much there and-- "I have eyes, don't I?" he repeats, you turn around and lock eyes with him for just a second too long not to do anything to the both of your heart rates.

===

fast forward to the next night and youre swinging your door open to see him turned the other way. he spins around as soon as he hears the door. You press your lips together and he unconsciously mimics you. "you look really beautiful!" he beams. he's just being your personal hype man as always, and youre not afraid to say that you love it. "Aw you look really beautiful too."

the words slipped past both of your lips like water through fingers. though, unlike water, the words were thick, with feelings long left in the dark hiding behind them. "Oh? so just beautiful? not really--" You step out toward him, closing the door behind you, making you step just a little bit too close to him than usual. "really really beautiful." you clarified. and this time, he doesn't move his head. "thank you." he whispers, voice softer than his hair. and the both of you are unable to move from your doorstep-- frozen in time and space, with the only thing moving being your rapid heart beats and rising chests.

====

he looks at you beside him and can feel your gears turning inside your head, a sight he so badly wants to get lost in but knows he can't. realizing it'd be bad enough with the gorgeous outfit you were wearing and how he was sure at least someone was going to try and hit on you... he'd rather not start getting himself tangled with you now. but he can't seem to move his neck any other way than craned to his left to look at you.

its was just.... as much as he wants an needs to kiss you so badly.... your so Important to him, he thinks as he lags behind a bit, watching you walk ahead. and your friendship is so important to him that they never want to break it, even if that meant shutting his mouth and staying further away, cause in the end that's really what he wanted: to be and stay friends with you. the reason he stayed never has been and never will be just about what he felt for you. your friendship will always be the most important thing to him and heeds never want to jeopardize that and loose you. he'd rather your friendship stay strong than anything.

Your turn around, beckoning him to come closer. he skips to you, so happy you don't know what to do with yourself. "You know--" "no, I don't. I was hoping you'd tell me." you scoff. "I was going to say that im glad you invited me. Im ready to go be extroverts together now and experience all the bad smells and all the loud noises a party has to offer." he laughs, but he knows youre half serious. and he's fully serious when he says he's happy you came.

====

the noise thumps in your ears, nearing making them ring. the lights are dimmer than you thought needed but it-- along with noise and people constantly bumping into each other, sufficed in making the atmosphere very party-like. cause well, it was a party after all. He follows you, both trying to scout out where the kitchen was. you'd planned to stick together, tighter than you did last time, tighter than when the both of you were bombarded with people asking you about each other, and stick together you did.

even when you two went upstairs, trying to find the bathroom, and stumbled upon a couple people fucking and practically biting each others faces off in the room you thought was the bathroom. Beomgyu shuts the door immediately, any longer and you'd both be traumatized. "get your own room!" you hear from behind the heavy door." He looks at you and you back at him before bursting into laughter. "I mean, did you want to orrrr?" you phrase it as a joke, and though he thinks he hears something in the back of your tone, he only rolls his eyes at you. though his brows go up higher than youve ever seen.

The second he's done in the bathroom you lead in downstairs to where the music was the loudest. "I heard it too." he pants, "I was trying to hurry up." you really couldn't believe they were playing this here. it was almost too perfect, you thought. with his body so close to yours, dancing and enjoying the song you both liked. And suddenly, it didn't feel like you were in a crowded room. and for a moment all you could see, and feel, and smell, was him. him and his fingers now reaching for yours, spinning you around, laughing without a care in the world. like it didnt matter that your heart was about to beat out of your chest, making you float on the floor you were dancing on.

Everyone else-- the entire room was blurred. It was just you, and him. him, and you. just as it should be. this didn't happen all the time-- rather, you didn't let it happen all the time. but when it did... you swore youve never felt anything so natural. so--so right and beautiful. You smile and ease him into a dip, now youre both laughing. when he comes up, somehow both his hands ended up in yours and now he's pulled flush against your body. he feels like you both are taking up so much and too little space at the same time--like the whole floor is yours and yours only. he swallows thickly, neither of you making a move to step away. you know it sounds stupid but for a second you can feel as life your hearts are beating as one. and for a seance he feels like maybe this is really real. that it won't end any second and that he isn't having another day dream about slow dancing with you in one of your living rooms; all comfy and--

"I have to go get some water." you say so low that only he hears over the music. you really shouldnt let it goony further than this. at least not here. and as much as you wanted to keep ignoring everyone around you cause with him, were they even there in the first place? you knew you shouldn't, couldn't keep it up for much longer cause being this close to him only made you wanna kiss the shit out of him. "y-youre not--" you look at the next to no gap between you still, hands still closes around each others tightly. you blink to free yourself from the perfect daze youre caught in. the song was barely even slow enough to slow dance to. what you you doing? "moving? I know." and before he could even ask if you to stay longer, youre already pushing yourself off his chest and out of his grasp.

"You sure you don't want me to just go with you?" he nearly stumbles after you. "beom, its just for a second." You whip around to face him, arms crossed defensibly. "but a lot can happen in a second." yeah, I can see that, you say to yourself, thinking about just a moment before where dancing to a song you both liked turned quickly into something that was going to make you stumble. beom, the name echoed in his mind over and over until it flowed into his heart where all the other times youve laughed or called him by that nickname laid. "listen I know youre just trying to uphold our agreement, but seriously, im fine."

he knows he's probably being too worried for you, but he just can't. epically after you'd done that. with your hands clasping his against his chest. god, he never wanted it to end. little did he know neither did you. you did actually need water, being so close to him like that had a track record of making your throat go dry and fingers go numb. it also had a track record of making you get lost in his glazed over eyes. you find a cup and rinse in out before anything cause who knew where its been. a moment later youre about to refill your cup when you hear the unmistakable sound of Beomgyus shriek. followed by someone yelling at him.

oh god what did he get himself into now?

You run to where you last saw him and, finding him not there you rush to where you saw a few people gathered by the stairs. those people who were now making way for beomgyu flying down them. someone hot with anger and hot on his tale. Your brows furrowed as he zooms past you. "im sorry!" you hear him say, "I probably shouldn't have gotten involved but it looked like a pretty heated argument!" oh god? that was what this was about? "Yah!" the person yells behind him. "that's why you shouldve stayed out of it!" then and Beomgyu are both on opposite ends of the sofa, both waiting for the other to make a move. when the person inches right, beomgyu tips to the left. when beomgyu goes the other way, the person follows his movements.

two of the three people move off the sofa to get out the way. god, he really was fucked, wasn't he? you didn't know what to do, really. you left for five minutes and here he was getting screamed profanities at by some random person. You wanted to help, but as beomgyu brings up to the person how the person they were talking with looked hurt, and how they themself looked hurt as well, you leaned against the door frame and just watched.

it was another one of these situations, huh? they didn't look mad enough to really do much of a number on him anyways, and youd step in to stop them any minute now if beomgyu doesn't leave the argument first. And step in a minute later after beomgyu and the person going back and forth tore you apart from the inside out to one, see him so worried like this, and two, hearing them yell next to you with the loud ass music was starting to make your ears bleed you didn't need to do after all. Beomgyu was backing up with his hands in front of him defensively. it didn't feel like you needed to collect him or keep him out of trouble or anything cause he was intentionally trying to start a fight, but you could tell no one was going to get anywhere with this. or at least beomgyu wasn't going to get what he was looking for from the person. So you figured it best to tell it that you two should leave. you grab him by the shoulders and lead him out the door. you were kinda done with the party anyways, having been there quite enough time already.

"im sorry! I ruined our night, didn't I?" he begs. "but they were saying some pretty shitty things about someone and it looked like it was about to turn physical." he practically pleads with you as the night air nips at whatever wasn't covered on you. you stay silent the whole way back to you place. "What have I told you?" you tell more than ask sternly once he's plopped down on his sofa. he hands his head low. "Not to get in the middle of other peoples problems..." he echoes what you say every time something like this happens-- he thinks he can be be everyones knight In shinning armor, protecter and helper to all by getting himself involved. it usually doesn't have such... strong repercussions. most of the time its when he hers whispers of someone talking about their troubles with someone else and he tries to console them. which is fine on its own, but then comes the part where he's getting all caught up in it and he's getting hurt along with them.

and as much as you are shaking your head and rolling your eyes at the situation he got himself into... you purse your lips and try not to catch his eyes from across the sofa. you lean back. "But im not surprised. And it's not because you never learn or that youre stupid or anything, ok? so don't even go there. but that's just who you are, how youve always been since I met you-- caring so much for people, even people you don't know that you'll end up like this trying to help them sometimes. that's one of the things about you that haven't changed one bit since I've met you." he inches closer as if you hear you better, legs folded criss cross on the cushions and hands on his knees.

"don't make me out to be such a hero." he shakes his head. and this time you move a little closer. "Not saying you are just," you pause, knowing what you want to say but wondering if this really was the right time for it. It felt right in your bones and besides when were you going to get another chance like this one? when just a bit ago his hands fit perfectly in yours and you could feel his raging heartbeat under your palms? It was now or never, right? but really, you werent too sure you'd be able to stop yourself now. you might've been in too deep, but with him, never over your head. "just, youre the kindest person ive ever met. n' I just worry you'll get hurt more than youve already gotten in the past-- like youve gotten in the past when you get invested like this."

youre breathing all heavy for some reason, and he's getting that same glassy look in his eyes as earlier in the night. it reminds you of a sugar honey glaze on sweet fruit or a dessert and you can't help but stare int them. "glad to see you care." he shrugs. only his lips move thankfully just in your field of vision, eyes staying locked on yours. "I thought you knew I did. he's unconsciously leaning forward to you, his body following the magnetic pull that was you. though he's only following what seemed natural. "Thought you knew that I did?" you put your face in your palm, elbow balanced on your knee. "Yeah, but..." he trails off, the both of you now impossibly close.

and closer, and closer, and closer until your lips join in a searing kiss. you both sigh in relief into it, having waited so, so long. now your heart was really beating out of your chest, your fingertips no longer numb but boiling with feeling. his hands go from his knees to your hands, grasping them firmly, but gently just like you did to him at the party. he felt like he was floating, like he was suddenly sitting on a cloud and wasn't afraid of falling. god, he's wanted this for so long; for fucking ever. how could he stop now? you pull apart, and now youre thinking how in the world you felt out this long. ".... now the way I want you to." he continues, "not the way I do." you smile, leaning in again to kiss him. it was meant to be a quick peck, but instead it turned into you leaning your body into his and his hands on your arms, running up and down them, making you sink further into him and the seat in warmth.

Now, for a second time, you pull away. "Does that help answering how much I care?" he's smiling like a mad man at your words. "so I guess I didn't ruin our night?" he says, more to get his Brian working properly more than anything. "The opposite. I wanted to leave with you anyways." and now he's nearly jumping out of his seat to to do a little happy dance. he couldnt help it, though. especially when you were pulling him back in by his shirt balls dup in your fist and smashing your lips together.

when you pull apart though, instead of smiling in each others faces, the both of you shoot up. oh god... oh god! what did you just do? it wasn't suppose to go like this, he thinks as you rush to put your shoes on at the door. No words were exchanged between the two of you, though. except: "Hey... I--" "no no!" you say a little too loudly, "no, its fine. we don't ever need to speak of this again, sound good?" his lips form a line at your words. he shoots you a thumbs up. "...yeah." it wasn't what he wanted, that's of for user. but what other choice did he have? didn't look like you were ready for it to happen, so my default, now he wasn't either.

it wasn't like you two avoided each other at all costs in the week after the incident. no, not at all. you were friends above anything and everything, and such close friends that being like that to each other would've killed the both of you. and it wasnt like you were mad at each other... but now the silence on your walks together felt.... uncomfortable; unnatural and weird. like you needed to fill it with pointless talking to distract you from how there was this... air in the midst of you two-- like you knew what the other wanted, craved and needed but were too scared to do something about it.

that's why he knew he had to do something about it. so here he was, barging into the diner you worked past closing time. You quickly run to the door to unlock it for him. not like you were doing anything better anyways, watching the raindrops slide down one of the many windows as you wiped down each table. he was later than he usually was, but it looked like he was here for more than just to pick you up. the look in his eyes said it all. You turn around as soon as you pull the door open for him. "we're closed, Beom." the nickname slipped off your tongue so easily it was like you had forgotten the incident the week before, and how you promised yourself you'd back away even more than you had to keep it from happening again.

it wasn't like you didnt want it to. god was it the opposite. it was just... new, and scary. you knew that wasn't the best excuse but it was all you had. he was, in a way all you had. You didn't really know what moving along that road would mean. you knew it'd be good. but again, it was new and scary.

"I can't loose you." he pants behind you. for once he it was raining and for once he did run here. he spreads his arms wide, his long hair dripping on his shoulders. "And I can't-- I can't believe we let this come between us. and I don't want to let the wedge be driven any further." when you still don't respond, back still turned he gets more desperate, running a worried hand through his hair. "Come on, y/n! we're best friends!" you slam your towel down on the counter. "yeah, well maybe that's why this should've never fuckin happened." your words make the room go silent. you didn't yell it, you didnt exclaim it, you basically whispered it, but it boomed like a bomb going off none the less.

he was too important-- your relationship, whatever it may be, was too important to let go; you knew that. he knew that. he didnt say a word, realizing that he might say something to make the situation worse. he knew he was staying after hours, then again, it reminded him of how it would be between the two of you a week ago when you'd still talk the same. he'd come in, you'd make him the best hot chocolate he'd ever tasted next to his moms, and then he'd sit at the same bar stool and you'd talk for hours, barely making a move to actually go home. but eventually, after helping you with cleaning, he'd walk you home.

but for watts its worth, neither of you wanted to go back to those times, even after everything quite liking how the experience of the incident felt. You invite him to go to your place to talk it out some more. having the same idea, he agrees readily.

"I haven't been completely honest with you." you say, youve been talking for a little over a hour now, somehow slipping into how it was about a week ago along the way back to your place, and you don't think youve felt something so good-- so reliving, in a very long time. "I haven't been telling the whole truth either." no other words are uttered between the two of you, opting to lean ever so frustratingly and tantalizingly slow into each other,. his hand coming to rest on your thigh, folded underneath you at the knee on his sofa. you place your hand on top of his has your lips connect, a long awaited satisfied sigh is breathed into each others face, the air tickling you. youre rubbing circles on the back of his hand as his mind races. it was a kiss you poured all your feelings into. one where you spilled into it how you needed him with you so so so bad. how you wanted him beside you even more than he already was. how you were sorry it took you so long, and how you couldn't wait to keep being beside each other. you could feel him pour all that and more into his side of it and you reviled in the feeling, settling into it like it was second nature.

you blink a couple times when you pull apart, glad that you took your talk someplace else now. and well, I guess the both of you know now. youve now pulled out of the dark that beautiful little thing you two were hiding.

Now you both know just that one more, not so little thing you needed-- what was on each of your hearts the most.

~end~

Can’t believe never written a solely beomgyu fic before anyways as I’ve said if you liked it please comment and or reblog since tumble works on that system and liking it only bookmarks it for you :) I hope you enjoyed!!!

©️2023copyrightofshutupheathersorryheatherr do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works even if you give me credit

taglist: @itz-yerin

#beomgyu x reader #beomgyu txt #choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x poc reader #beomgyu had me fainting™️ (as always) on this one #tomorrow x together #ghosts writing

[headspacedad]

so you're ready to socialize

You've got your blog set up. You've posted or reblogged something. Your icon isn't a faceless orange shape. You're no longer in danger of being blocked on sight as a bot.

Now what?

I recently got an ask in my inbox for help with this whole 'tumblr' thing. The person that asked me had a lot of the basics down so I focused on expanding your social circle - except it took me so long to write that I saved it in my drafts to add to and only then found out that once its in your drafts you can't reply privately.

so - Imma post it here without the actual ask so if the person didn't want to be mentioned they won't. Let's go!

First off, doing what you're doing right now by sending me an ask is a great way to get the ball rolling. Reaching out to other people and engaging them is a big part of how you can build a circle on tumblr.

You can do that with inbox messages.

You can do that with DM/PMs (the box that pops up to the side where you can have real time text conversations).

You can do that by reblogging other people's posts and leaving notes in the tags commenting about the post (most posters read these, though they're more for your followers to get your thoughts on a matter, like whispering in a movie theater except without the dirty looks)

reblog their post and add your own comments in the body of the post, basically chaining a response to their post, usually used when you've got something that adds to the original post like a continuation of the joke or more facts, etc.

and you can comment on the posts via the little speech bubble next to the reblog button, which is kind of like replying personally to the post (interacting with the poster themselves).

Not everyone will automatically engage in response. Some people are just here to chill and don't want to be social (some days I know I don't have the brainpower for it). A lot of people do want to be social though and so the more you comment outward the higher your chances of finding other people you can jive with. A good way to make your chances better at finding someone that will back and forth with you is over shared interests. We're a very interest based site. So find something you're excited about - maybe its a hobby like knitting, maybe its a streaming series like Good Omens, maybe its hamsters, maybe its Elizabethan neck ruffs! Whatever it is that you're interested in punch the words that will get those kinds of results into tumblr's search bar and look at the posts that come up. I tend to search by 'newest' instead of 'most popular' because it guarantees me people that are currently interested in whatever I am, who are actively putting their posts out there for others to find. Often if you start reblogging someone's posts, they'll see it and check out your blog. If you really want interaction though, the best way to go is one of the above bullet points, especially inbox or speech bubble commenting. It shows you want to talk about something they want to talk about too. A lot of times this is a great way to get more interaction with others and widen your circle (as well as find new stuff about something you enjoy). It might be slow going, I still haven't figured out what the magic is that gets someone a blow up of followers overnight, especially not the all important holy grail of Interactive followers but slow and steady still builds a good group of people you can enjoy sharing things everyone's interested in and it keeps growing over time.

This also works in reverse. A good chunk of my followers (friends honestly) come from my days in the Voltron fandom. I was VERY active making posts while the show was airing. Lots of fanfiction, lots of meta, lots of speculation, just lots of being loud and excited (and then loud and not excited). A lot of other people were interested in VLD too at the time and they found me and bounced off my ideas with ideas of their own and things really ballooned. To this day, a huge hard core of my social group are ex-VLD fans who have moved on to other things (mostly) but still hang around because we built that core and we enjoy seeing what the others in the group have moved onto and found to share with the team. So, again, find your interests and make posts about them so that other people with the same interests can find you. The more popular something is the more attention its going to get - but also the easier it is to get lost in the shuffle of everyone talking about a thing. Not every post is going to get responses. Sometimes I'll post something I think people will enjoy and get crickets. Sometimes everyone and their cousin jumps onboard. Don't get discouraged. DO use the tags. tumblr sucks when it comes to finding things in the tags but its still worth doing because sometimes, randomly and with no pattern, it doesn't suck. The first five tags are the really important ones. Make sure you put the biggest details there. For instance if you're making a post about the One Piece live action from Netflix your first five tags should be something like: one piece, opla, netflix, zoro, swords are cool. You want people looking for One Piece posts about Zoro and his swords to be able to find you easily. And, once they find you, hopefully to engage you about Zoro and his swords.

There are a lot of ways to find other people to interact with on tumblr. One of the pleasures of the site is you get to take things, for the most part, at your own pace and level of comfort. Just remember, the more active you are interacting with other people and their posts, the wider your circle will grow. Its not a 100% success rate, like I said, a lot of people are just here to vibe after a long day of having to be socially 'on' all day, but a lot of people are happy to find other people to get to natter about interests with. Do what you're comfortable with and before you know it, you'll have a group of people that interact with your posts, and you, regularly!

#tumblr #how to tumblr #getting started #lets get socializing! #answering asks #let's tumblr #finding friends #okay to reblog #feel free to add tips #and any help #or things that worked for you

[everlastlady]

Mammon + Servant Reader (Female)

✘Posted: 11/4/2023

✘Story Contains: Fem reader, Reader is a maid, Bubble baths, Gentle Mammon, Slight Nudity, Favoritism, & Feel good times.

✘Word Count: None, writing this on mobile y'all

✘Author's Note: Decided to do Mammon with female reader, I'll do a male reader soon. Just decided to cater to my female readers but I promise I will cater to my male readers. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✘Summary: {Name} is a simple maid for the greed lord Mammon. {Name} isn't sure why Mammon always calls on her and always wants him by his side when he wanders his home. But she doesn't mind because she finds her master funny and enjoys how gentle he is with her. But what happens when {Name} gets sick? And it's time for Mammon to take care of them.

" It's okay sir, I'm sure that you will fine someone better than Fizzarolli. " She spoke softly to her boss Mammon who sat in the large green chair. As the imp news woman spoke about what happened at the show. The maid named (name), picked up the remote and pointed it at the large screen and turned it off. Once it flickered to black. She looked over at Mammon who was still fumming over what happened at the clown pageant. " I don't understand, I gave him everything! " Mammon's voice deep and demonic as he slammed his fist onto the table, sending a large crack through it. (Name) smacked her lips. She would have to get that fixed. " sometimes, you can give someone everything and they will still leave, I understand that you are frustrated sir but don't let this stop you from making money; I'm sure someone new will come along, what about the Glam Sisters? " (Name) walked over to Mammon's liquor cabinet. " Comas, after a piece of the set fell on them, they both ended up in the hospital in comas, besides they don't really fit the image of what I'm looking for. " Mammon muttered. (Name) noodded her head and set down the glass of liquor for Mammon. The greed demon looked up at (Name) and smiled. " Thanks, I know I always say this but you are my favorite maid, far better than the rest! You always do your job right and know how to keep a smile on my mug. " Mammon chuckled and took a drink. " Come drink with me, (Name) " Mammon grinned looking up at the maid. Her soft (E/C) looked at Mammon before shaking her head. " No, thank you, sir, I still have work to do; it's not good for one to be drunk on the job. You can cause a lot of mishaps that way putting others in harm and yourself. " (Name) said with a darling smile.

" See that is why you're my favorite (Name)! So smart and responsible with your duties. Maybe next time on one of your vacation days, you and me can drink together. " Mammon said. He would actually love to have a drink with (Name). And you wouldn't have to wear that plain maid outfit. Mammon wondered what (Name) would look like in different outfits. What dresses would (Name) wear or outfits that weren't dress related. Mammon never really seen (Name) outside work. He knew that she lived in the Pride ring and had an apartment. That's all he really knew about (Name's) life since she barely sooke about herself, she listened more than she speaks. " So (Name) how the payments on your apartment? Going because I've been thinking about giving you more payment, maybe you could buy yourself a nice house. " Mammon smirked. " It's going well, besides my loud and annoying neighbor. It's been good but I don't think I need a bigger payment. " (Name) said while tucking a piece of her hair behind her pointed ears. " Aww, come on; yes you do because you are responsible and work hard so tonight expect me to send you a shit ton of money. Now run around and tell the cook to prepare dinner. " Mammon waved his hand to dismiss (Name).

She smiled and bowed, walking out of Mammon's office. Mammon stood up and stared at the spot that (Name) stood in. " Lord of greed giving out money, I must be crazy... " Mammon looked away. " She better get a nice house with that money, a beautiful one at best. " Mammon sat back down. But there was no time to think about (Name) because Mammon had to find a replacement for Mammon so he would probably have to hold another clown off. His little fucked up beauty pageant, but hey if it helps him find Fizzarolli's replacement. Then he would be glad to hold one again. Especially have Fizzarolli and Asmodeus banned from it even that little imp with the gun that had showed up. When night time had finally coated the sky. Mammon sat in the dining room. The table decorated with food. (Name) stood next to Mammon holding a bottle of the greed demon's favorite wine. " (Name) how about you sit down and eat with me. " Mammon took the bottle wine and set it on the table. " And that's an order, just in case you try to come up with some excuse. " Mammon gestures towards the chair at the end of table. " Hey cook! Bring out plate for (Name)! " Mammon yelled. (Name) walked over and sat down - with a smile, the chef brought out a plate that had lemon pepper chicken, mashed potatoes covered in gravy, pasta,and vegetables that were just steamed. The night went well, Mammon made (Name) laugh with his jokes and stories. She listened to her master's rants and ideas.

Mammon enjoyed seeing (Name) laughed. The way her giggles slipped off her lips and coated his ears like honey. How her shoulders moved when she laugh, even that snort was adorable. Mammon felt hot in the face. He couldn't believe that she had made him feel this way for such a long time. But he never acted on these feelings because he was busy making money. But he always made sure that no one tried to get at (Name) which is why so many servants were fired for trying to hit on her. After dinner was done, (Name) stood up and bowed. " I'm grateful that you invited me to join you for dinner, sir, everything was delicious and I appreciated our conversation and the jokes you told. " (Name) spoke through a fit of giggles on the last part still remembering Mammon's joke about clown fish. " No problem, I also enjoyed eating with you. Way better than those dinners I have to attend with Lucifer and the other sins. " Mammon stood up smiling but he stopped noticing how (Name) wobble a bit when standing straight up. Did she drink to much wine? No that couldn't be because she had to drive home. " (Name)? " Mammon walked over to (Name) . " You okay mate? " Mammon reached out. Before she could respond she threw up on yourself and the carpet, (Name) would have fallen and hit the floor but Mammon caught her before she could pass out.

" (Name)! " He called her name and held you close not caring if he got her vomit on him. (Name's) eyes flickered opened as she coughed. " I don't feel good... " Her voice sounded dry and low. " Y-You are going home, let's go get you cleaned up. " Mammon picked up (Name), poor girl could barely speak it hurt to speak so she wouldn't fight back with Mammon who brought her into a guest bedroom. (Name) always took care of him, he will now take care of her. Mammon managed to grab a large shirt that had his logo on it. (Name) could sleep in that and get out of that disgusting maid outfit that was covered in vomit. Mammon ran (Name) a bath. He made sure the water wasn't too hot or cold. He added in some bath salts and oils. Mammon turned towards (Name) trying to figure out how to not make this sound creepy. " (Name) take off that outfit and get into the tub, we gotta get you washed up mate, this bath will help a little. " Mammon offered his hand. (Name) nodded weakly and took his hand, stepping into the bathroom. Mammon turned around as (Name) peeled away her clothing and stepped into the tub - it smelled like mint and honey. She let out a relaxing sigh. Mammon turned around and got on his knees as he began to wash her up. " You don't have to do that sir. " (Name) said in a tires voice. " Shh, yes I do, you always take care of me, so for the night just let me take care of you please. " Mammon said while washing up (Name).

She nodded her head as her boss Mammon washes her up. Avoiding her chest area and crotch area. She held onto the tub when Mammon lifted her leg to wash it. This felt nice, so she enjoyed herself. Mammon took a cup of water and poured it over (Name's) head as he washed her hair and face. He would let her handle the rest while he went to go get her towels and medicine. He could have gotten servant to do this but no, he wanted to take care of (Name), Mammon returned and helped (Name) out of the tub. She dried off and slipped into the large dark green shirt that Mammon gave her. It had his logo on it. " Sorry that I couldn't get you any undergarments. " Mammon said with a crimson blush. " It's fine, I usually sleep without them more comfortable that way. You feel less trapped. " (Name) said while taking the medicine that Mammon brought her. She crawled into the bed as Mammon placed his hand on her head. " Your fever is going down a little. " Mammon said with his hand placed on (Name's) head. " I'm going to stay by your side so scooch over. " Mammon moved over before getting into the bed with you. He laid next to you and stared at you. " You look cute in my merch. " He said. (Name's) voice was still a little dry but still did her voice to talk. " Thanks, the material feels soft. " She said while playing with the blanket.

Mammon turned his side to look at (Name) who did the same to look at Mammon. " Sir... " (Name) began to speak again. " Call me, Mammon. " Mammon said running his fingers through her hair. " Mammon thank you for taking care of me, I'm also sorry that I ruined the carpet. " She looked down. " It's fine, I can get it clean; besides I've been wanting to replace that carpet with a new one. Taking care of you is something you deserve, you always take care of me, so I decided to take care of you... I don't know your my favorite and I like you. " Mammon he hoped that saying that didn't make things awkward between (Name) and him. " I like you too. " (Name) smiled tiredness filled with their eyes. She rested her head on Mammon's chest, while he continued to play with her hair, but soon he leaned down and kissed her. (Name) pulled away quickly. " Mammon, you'll get sick! " She had worry in her voice. " I don't care, I will be fine. " Mammon went back to kissing (Name) who soon melted into the kiss. She enjoyed this moment between her and Mammon. This was no longer just a maid and her master. But just two people who love each other and care for each other. Who take care of each, who soon will have a future together.

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