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nanaslutt · 13 hours

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HI NANA ILY spiral anon again i have a request ^.^ reread ur 'stealing ur panties' smau and i'm so obsessed with the nanami one do u think u would ever write perv nanami? like as a coworker or an apartment neighbour stealing ur panties from the laundromat... idk i'm kinda obsessed w the concept n i need it TY <33 -🌀

ʚ cont: fem reader, perv!Nanami, panty stealing, fantasizing, jerking off, masturbation (r!)

ʚ note: my reqests are closed, i just woke up wanting to write a little and found this gem in my inbox

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Perv!Nanami has been working so hard over the past year to get close to you, his pretty little neighbor. You have the same impression of him that everybody else shares about the handsome man; kind, gentle, and caring. And that's exactly what he wants you to think about him when he knocks on your door and asks you if you would like to eat with him because he "ordered too much takeout." Or when he so kindly comes to your house each week to take your laundry down to the shared washers and dryers the apartments provide because of, "convenience."

And of course, you say yes, how could you not? Nanami is such a good guy, and you know your clothes will be safe with him, that he'll treat them good and return them to you folded and smelling like poppies. And because NAnami is such a nice man, you never even think twice when he brings your laundry to you hours later and you're missing a pair or two of panties. You don't worry about it, they always show up sooner or later--and the pink pair sitting on top of the pile of freshly cleaned clothes? You could've sworn those have been missing for weeks but maybe they were just buried at the bottom of the pile and you missed them, yeah, that had to be it.

Nanami doesn't want you growing suspicious and he sure as hell doesn't want you spending your precious money on new panties if you think you're missing your old ones. He convinces you that you've been so busy lately and probably misplaced the undergarments after coming home and peeling your clothes off after a long day. You blush at the thought of Nanami seeing you in such a state, and the look on your face and the way you avert your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by the man in front of you, trying to convince you your panties will show up again.

And they always do. Right after Nanami finishes taking real good care of them, just like he'll do to you one day. After Nanami so generously offers to take your clothes down, he sets the basket on top of the already rattling dryer and closes the door so no one walks in and sees what he's about to do. God, he doesn't know what he would do if you walked in on him like this. At first, Nanami was good about taking your panties and hauling them up to his room to worship them, but the urge to have you only grew every day, leading him to now pull his pants down and wrap your panties around his cock almost the moment he steps inside the laundry room.

Nanami hastily digs through your basket, searching for the prettiest pair of panties as his sore cock throbs against his hard zipper, begging for release. He prays you didn't notice the way his cock strained against his pants when he was convincing you you lost your panties after a long day's work, hoping the basket he held over his crotch covered most of his problem. After acquiring his target, Nanami leans back against the door with his full weight and fishes his cock from his pants, hard and dripping between his legs, a little wetness falling and making contact with the floor.

Nanami wastes no time before holding your panties up to his nose and inhaling, his hand already working furiously over his cock, wet noises, and muffled grunts getting drowned out by the rattling dryer in front of him. The 'nice' man paints generous pictures in his head of his pretty little neighbor exhausted after work, barely closing her door before stripping off her clothes in the hall, leading to her room.

He's unable to stop the groan that surfaces as he drops his head against the door and lets his eyes fall shut, wrapping the part of your panties that touches your cunt against his tip, rubbing his own wetness against yours while jerking himself off with his other hand now, legs spreading the longer he goes. He feels himself already so close to the end as he pictures your dripping body in the shower, scrubbing the day off of you. He would spend so much time helping you get clean if he had the chance. He would also make sure to spend plenty of time washing your tits, wondering how long he could get away with groping you there before you figured out he had ulterior motives for cleaning you.

Nanami pulled his lip between his teeth as he imagined your now soaked body walking out of the shower, leaving a trail of water behind you from your poor job of drying off before you plopped down onto your bed, bedroom already dim as you reached a hand between your thighs, finding that ache, that need between them that would finally relax your sore body after such a hard day.

His thrusts speed up as he vividly watches you in his mind as you push a finger between your folds, gasping in relief before you start up a quick pace, your other hand alternating between playing with your clit and rubbing your chest. It usually doesn't take Nanami long once he gets to this point, his body lurching as his bach arches with spasms, his cock kicking against your panties as he dirties the fabric even more, drenching the poor thong in his thick cum that he would much rather give you, inside you.

The guilt of his acts never ceases to go away after he finishes defiling your panties, but he ignores it the best he can, putting the now ruined panties back in the hamper before he fishes out two more to keep for himself this week. Wonder if he would feel better about his deeds if he learned that his jerk-off fantasy wasn't all that wrong and that the person you use in your own fantasies to get off is your kind, gentle, and caring neighbor.

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indulgentdaydream · 2 days

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How do you think Jason Todd sleeps, like sleeping positions

I'm so glad you asked

also i'm treating this as x reader hope you don't mind

actually i'm going to go off on a tangent first

jason is trained to be as silent as possible. not to draw attention to himself when he doesn't need to. he may be built like a fucking unit/ a militarized fridge, but he knows how to be quiet

that's why i don't think that when he has nightmares that he's waking up screaming/flailing around/punching air. Sure, he's panicking, but he's so used to keeping that under wraps that the most he'll wake up with in a small gasp. maybe a jolt.

after he's awake, of course, is when the panicking starts, the heavy breathing, the sitting up, the pacing, the crying, what not.

(i'm speaking from my own experience. I have consistent nightmares. I've been raised to never make a sound as to not bother others. At most I wake up with a deep breath and pushing myself up onto my elbows.)

now that we have THAT out of the way.

jason, by himself, DEFINITELY spreads out wide on whatever surface he's sleeping on

that man is only sleeping when he's on the verge of passing out.

most times, before dating you, he would get back from patrol, shuck his helmet and armour off, then just belly flop onto the nearest, softest surface and be OUT for a minimum of six hours

sometimes it was the floor. safehouses aren't always furnished

poor guy would usually forget to brush his teeth, too

he meets you and within the next few days goes to the dentist for the first time in a while because he wants to look and be good so you'll like him back

baby had 16 cavities :(

ANYWAYS

with you? good luck moving

he's gotta be touching you in some way. whether he's fully wrapped around you, spooning you, head tucked into your hair/the back of your neck when it's cold, trying to both keep you warm and steal some of your warmth

or a simple hand on your stomach/back/arm/thigh when it's too hot to be fully cuddling

he just needs to know you're still there and that you didn't leave him in the middle of the night

he's insecure :( leave him alone

actually do the opposite marry that man and never let him go

occasionally will let you spoon him, but he doesn't necessarily like it because he feels like he's very closed to being suffocated

loves when you lay on his chest though! he can easily push you off if it gets too much, but for some reason it feels more weighted blanket than suffocation by pillow to the face.

let him lay on your chest as well.

maybe not all the way. he'll keep only half of his weight on you when doing so.

he's SUCH a stomach sleeper. only sleeps on his back when in unfamiliar places. easier to get up that way.

y'all have any kind of animal? you're coming home to find him napping with them wherever. bed? check. floor? more than once. if it's a dog, dog bed? you're chiding him because you now how filthy that thing can become.

he's a sleeperrrrr

let him sleep

help him get rid of his eyebags by giving him some warm milk and tucking him in

100% played with your hair one night while falling asleep and now needs to do it every night otherwise he has a hard time

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harunayuuka2060 · 1 day

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Azul: MC...

Azul: My "poor" friend...

Azul: How are you? 🥺

Chubby MC: Mf I see what you did there.

Azul: I know you are having a difficult time right now, so I am trying to cheer you up.

Chubby MC: Don't try when you're not good at it.

Azul: 🙄

Azul: Anyway, where are you? I texted Jade and he said you went out for a walk.

Chubby MC: Yeah. And looking for a job too.

Azul: You still didn't get a job?

Chubby MC: I got one, but I'm looking for a second.

Azul: Why???

Chubby MC: My house has been invaded and I want to move out.

Azul: ...

Azul: Is the situation really that bad?

Chubby MC: I don't like seeing couples in my own house.

Azul: Fair enough.

Azul: Hey, why don't we talk on the phone?

Chubby MC: So you can use your hands to sign contracts?

Azul: Yes. Texting is decreasing my productivity.

Chubby MC: Yeah, sure.

Jade: *is stalking MC*

Vivienne: It appears they are not aware of their surroundings.

Jade: ...

Jade: Why have you come here? Didn't I explicitly instruct you not to leave the house?

Vivienne: I'm worried about you. *nonchalant expression*

Jade: My, that's a waste of emotion.

Vivienne: It's not if it's you, Jade Leech.

Jade: *not amused*

Chubby MC: Damn, I'm standing in front of the supermarket now.

Azul: How long have you been walking?

Chubby MC: Am I supposed to measure that?

Azul: Hmph.

Chubby MC: Should I go inside or not?

Azul: You should. I'll send you money.

Chubby MC: No need. I have money here.

Azul: Huh? You haven't started working in your new job yet.

Chubby MC: Yeah.

Azul: Then who did you get your money from?

Chubby MC: Vivienne.

Azul: ...

Azul: Why?

Chubby MC: I don't know. Maybe payment for staying in my house?

Azul: So you're accepting rent now?

Chubby MC: Can't I?

Azul: Well...

Chubby MC: Ah, I'm buying seafood. Oh, the octopus is on sale.

Azul: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?

Chubby MC: It's begging for its life.

Azul: I hate you!

Chubby MC: *didn't buy anything and went straight home after teasing Azul*

Chubby MC: I'm going to bed early.

Jade and Vivienne: *waiting for them at the entrance*

Chubby MC: ...

Jade: *smiles warmly* Welcome home.

Vivienne: Hm. You didn't buy anything.

Chubby MC: Yeah, because it's not my money. *returns it to her*

Chubby MC: If you'll excuse me, I want to go to bed now.

Jade: How about dinner?

Chubby MC: Go serve your wife. *then walks inside*

Jade: ...

Vivienne: ...

Floyd: Beluga-chan?

Floyd: Beluga-chan~? Are you sleeping???

Chubby MC: *was messaging Floyd, but fell asleep immediately*

Floyd: Hehehehe~ Good night, Beluga-chan~.

Vivienne: *holding their phone* They're close to Floyd Leech too.

Jade: *snatches the phone from her* That is an invasion of privacy.

Vivienne: ...

Vivienne: Aren't we both invading their privacy?

Jade and Vivienne: *individually decided to enter MC's room*

Jade: Oh, but I have their consent.

Vivienne: Huh. How convenient.

#twisted wonderland #twst chubby mc #twst jade #twst oc vivienne #twst azul #twst floyd #twst chubby mc x jade

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blackthunder137 · 1 day

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Enamored by Envy (Rafe Cameron x reader)

Pairing- Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary- when all you wanted was your boyfriend’s attention and while he had other plans, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), nickname-princess (but in a derogatory sense), fingering, jealous!rafe, brat!reader.

Author’s note- i am back and i promise i will provide you with fics as much as possible. enjoy reading <3. also, this fic ends in a cliffhanger.

navigation rafe cameron masterlist

He wasn’t looking at you, and that pissed you off. You wore your favourite red satin silk midi dress which hugged every inch of your body just so Rafe could ogle at you and later fuck your brains out but now, that seemed impossible because here you were sitting on those bar stools with a Martini in your hand and Rafe was sitting across from you making a business deal. You understood that he had work to do and you let him but it was already past an hour and he did not so much as even look in your direction, this only made you grow impatient and annoyed.

You looked at him, in hopes that at least now he would look back at you but you found no such luck. God, you were growing annoyed and agitated, so you did what you always do best. Make him learn his lesson. You scanned the dance floor which was filled with people who were either too drunk or they were on top of each other, quite literally and dancing like there was no tomorrow.

So you walked your way to the dance floor and started dancing. For the first few minutes that you were dancing, you kept looking at Rafe to see if he was looking at you. Nada. He didn’t even bat an eye in your direction and as the music grew louder and touched every atom in your body, you forgot about him. Your hip swayed sensually and your hands touched your entire body as you felt every bass and the melody of the music.

You didn’t even notice the guy behind you who had his hands on your waist and swaying with you. He moved his hands with you, his breath hitting your neck as he lowered his head down to inhale your scent.

Your music-induced haze snapped and you looked over at the counter to see him, jaw clenched and his eyes shooting daggers at the guy you were dancing with.His gaze not leaving yours even for a second as he strode towards you like a panther ready to hunt its prey.

Rafe lowered his head down and whispered in your ear, “Go back to the car, princess.” his breath hit your neck which elicited goosebumps. It happened every damn time. His voice, his touch and his words always made you feel something, like your whole skin was on fire. You hated him for doing these things to you, you hated that he ignored you and he dared to come here and tell you what to do. It was all so messed up. You looked up at him and spat, “Fuck.You.” and left.

You knew he would probably punch the guy that was dancing with you but you couldn’t stay there any longer than necessary and honestly, you couldn’t care less about the guy. You made your way towards the parking lot. If Rafe wanted to come home he can use a fucking cab for himself.

When you were about to get into the car, a hand caught your wrist and turned you around. Your back slammed into the car as a looming Rafe stood in front of you with his entire body leaning on you. You tried to break free from his hold but that asshole had a steady grip on you. He lowered his face, only inches away from yours and spoke, “And where do you think you’re going?”

His face was so close that if you moved even a little bit you’d probably kiss him. Your eyes trailed from his face to his lips and back to his eyes. His eyes were already undressing you and it took all your willpower not to give in to his games. “Away from you,” you said through gritted teeth. You somehow broke free from his grasp and managed to open the car door, got inside and drove away.

All you could see was red, maybe you were overreacting but he needed to be reminded that you are not just anyone and that you are your own person and if anybody wanted you, they had to work for it.

As you pulled over in your parking lot you saw a silhouette of a person, no, Rafe. How the hell did he reach faster than you? Ignoring that you made your way towards the door, he stood tall and strong and opened the door for you and said, “After you, princess.”

What was up with him? Why was he saying stuff like this? You had no fucking idea. You entered your hall after which Rafe closed the door behind him. You made your way towards the dining table when his hand gripped your waist and slammed you against the dining table, the wood dug into your hips as you let out a harsh breath.

“Now what was all the attitude about, princess?” he whispered as his hand held your waist in an almost bruising hold.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you spat out as you tried pushing him away but he didn’t budge. “You didn’t even look at me! I tried calling your name but you wouldn’t respond. It was as if you were fucking ignoring my whole existence!”

He brought his head down to your ears, hot breath hitting your ears and spoke through gritted teeth, “If I so much as looked at you, I would’ve lost all my senses and control and fucked you right then and there. You see I had a deal which needed to be looked into but you had other plans of going out there and dancing with that worthless fucker-” he moved your hair from your neck slowly and torturously that you had to close your eyes and bit your lips to tamp down the unwanted thoughts that were building up. He bit your neck hard causing you to cry out as you held his arms on either side. “You know what happens to a bad girl don’t you princess?” he whispered, making you clench your thighs together.

You had gotten to him alright and now you had to face consequences for it which you happily will. He got back up from your neck and looked straight into your eyes when his hand covered your neck pressing it firmly yet surely. “Now, you know what happens to girls like you don’t you, princess.” and with that, he kissed you hard causing you to sink deeper into the dining table wood. His tongue entered your mouth without permission, assaulting you in ways that sent a wave of pleasure right to your core. His hold on your neck tightened as he sunk deeper into your mouth, pressing his hard length right against your already wet cunt.

A moan escaped from your mouth as he continued to kiss you, messily and eagerly. He broke apart the kiss as your chest heaved from the impact. In one swift movement, he lifts your dress, throwing your panties away and laying you down on the dining table. “Spread your legs, princess,” he croaked, licking his lips as his eyes practically devoured your entire being.

“No,” you replied, challenging him and pressing your thighs together to avoid him from doing anything to you . He turned his head to the side, the corner of his lips lifting into a half-smile and with one shift of his strong hands your legs were pulled apart. He lowered his head and licked your bare pussy. That single action made you close your eyes and throw your head back.

He made a grunting sound before he put his thumb on your clit massaging and palming it. Your breaths became quicker and your eyelids started to get heavy. “Eyes on me,” Rafe’s firm voice floated through your haze and made you quickly snap your eyes open and look at him. You would usually put up more of a fight but you were too into the sensation that even if you tried saying anything it would come out as gibberish.

His mouth mapped every bit of your inner thigh, marking and branding you his. His mouth then moved onto your clit, sucking and biting it. While he was busy assaulting your clit, two of his fingers thrust, hard, inside your cunt. His fingers worked professionally as if you were a canvas and he were the artist, painting a masterpiece for the world to see.

He was continually hitting the right spot, again and again. Your hips jerked from the force building in your core just one more stroke, lick and bite and you would come undone. As soon as you were close to the edge, so close, he withdrew his fingers and mouth. You made the most guttural noise known to mankind and glared at him for denying you an orgasm.

He simply smirked and removed his pants and boxers, freeing his big cock. His pre-cum dripped from his tip and he was hard. You looked at him to find him already looking at you, his dick positioned right in front of your pussy. One hard thrust got you screaming his name. He held you by the throat and brought you closer to him so now your face was closer to his chest. He leaned down, his voice breathless, “Look at us princess, our bodies were made for each other. You are mine to fuck, mine to see and mine to taste. No one gets to touch what’s mine.” As he said the last words, his grip on your throat tightened. His words made your skin heat with lust. You grabbed his hair in your hands and crashed your lips to his. This encouraged him to pick his pace up and he fucked you raw. The only sound that echoed the room was your skin slapping against his. His thumb massaged your clit and his cock hit the right spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Ra-rafe…ah!” you screamed out as you came apart. Your eyes shut taking in the feeling of total bliss. He came right after you with a grunt and you could practically feel his warm cum leaking out and dripping down your thigh. You let out a sigh and laid back down the dining table. You were exhausted from the night's activities and as soon as you were coming down your high Rafe lifted you up and hauled you over his shoulder. You yelped in surprise.

“Rafe put me the fuck down!” you exclaimed. He took up the stairs and set you down on the bed. His eyes roaming all around your body, from your hair to your legs. You were sure you were a mess with your hair strands falling all over the place and your cheeks flushed.

His eyes came back to yours and he replied, “I’m not done yet.” His hoarse and commanding voice set a jolt of electricity straight to your core

#outer banks #outer banks fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #obx #:☆ﾟmay writes

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carmelcoco · 1 day

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mercury notes

trauma through mercury signs 🥀

warning - content may be triggering, following are not absolute facts take them with a grain of salt. And please reach out to your loved ones and take care of yourself.

〰 aries mercury

they probably had a childhood were they didn't feel heard enough so growing up they learned to communicate by being loud and as quickly as possible or either learned to kept it all in. Someone older or leader of the family may have controlled them in their childhood, could be a teacher as well. probably grew up in a family where yelling was normal.

〰 taurus mercury

they had to learn to adjust a lot, they were probably the 2nd choice growing up. they learned whom to trust and whom not to at a very young age. they could've went through an experience where someone close to them broke their trust and hence they learned not to share too much of them to others.

〰 gemini mercury

gemini mercury was the odd one of the family who had to learn how to deal with their parents (parents could have different style of communication or either were ignorant towards the child or busy). They learned to entertain themselves at a young age through gaining knowledge this may also happen due to them wanting to be interesting enough so that their parents would spend time with them. can be prone to oversharing or not sharing at all.

〰 cancer mercury

cancer mercury tend to hold on their feelings until it is impossible to do so anymore and if they ever try to communicate and the other person does not recognises it, it could be hard for them to do share their feeling with that person in the future. They may tend to get emotional or cry while talking about how they feel. they can hold grudges (if underdeveloped)

〰 virgo mercury

They were probably criticized as young kids for whatever they did resulting in them being so cautious as adults and sometimes manifested as anxiety or nervousness. Healing work can be really good for them.

〰 leo mercury

as kids they may have gotten to much attention or no attention at all resulting them to learn to take charge of the situation as adults. They learned to create boundaries to protect themselves and learned to be as straight forward as possible. some can be people pleasers is underdeveloped.

〰 libra mercury

they probably were criticized or made fun of as kids resulting in them having some kind of insecurity. they likely put a facade around people and act as if everything is fine. they tend to flourish into very reliable people later in their lives.

〰 scorpio mercury

went through a lot as a kid. learned to shut their feelings and isolate. didn't know how to stand up for themselves and all this comes with them even in adulthood. they tend to not trust people's words easily as they have had experiences where there trust was shattered. self love is key.

〰 sagittarius mercury

they felt better at school than at home. probably were pretty know in their school for their humour and smartness. they learned to push away their feelings and to avoid them and rather focus on other things. they probably were the kids making dark jokes about how messed up their life is.

〰 capricorn mercury

they had quite practical parents who taught them things like work and practical skills at a young age. they were told that they must be able to take care of themselves. they learned to communicate in an assertive manner and had good values as kids. their parents weren't that affectionate and could be strict, creating fear around the child of not wanting to disappoint them.

〰 aquarius mercury

they were the kids who either barely talked as kids or were nervous to talk or let their thoughts be heard maybe because when they tried to share their thoughts they were either laughed at or judged. they were called the alien or odd ones of the group. very eccentric people honestly.

〰 pisces mercury

they had difficulty understanding people so they learned to give half answers or vague answers as they didn't want to come off as dumb or wrong in front of others. They probably were the kids who weren't able to stand up for themselves during fights. They may have trouble conveying what they are feeling in the moment.

this post was created by @carmelcoco on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits

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that-sarcastic-writer · 2 days

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Coffee and Other Things

DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language

WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things

A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.

If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there

Universe masterlist

God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.

You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today.

You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.

But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter.

"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."

"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time."

Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time."

She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well.

"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?"

The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Thank you daddy!"

"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends."

Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.

You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you.

"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon.

"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away.

You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?

"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over.

"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious.

"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from."

You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed.

"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time."

"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you.

"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it.

Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point.

But you were so glad you were wrong.

~~~~

"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes."

You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight.

This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no.

"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.

His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans.

"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please."

Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties.

"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you."

Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties.

"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it."

He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair.

He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.

Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him.

"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response.

He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best."

Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement.

"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt.

"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck.

"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone.

“Hmph… Careful baby.”

You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.

“What.. What is that? Are you okay?”

He found the concern in your voice endearing.

“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but.

“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay.

“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?”

“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later.

He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was.

“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?”

All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture.

“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.”

Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it.

His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough.

“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?”

It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there.

“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips.

“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock.

Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world.

“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel.

Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight.

He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down..

“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.”

Please.

God.

Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned.

“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.”

Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there.

“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point.

“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck.

You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close.

“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear.

He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much.

“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close.

“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.”

He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you.

“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw.

You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel him close, even if closer was even possible.

“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment.

“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension.

“In a car.. You know? I've never..”

A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?”

“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled.

“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.”

And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational.

You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride.

“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”

#leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #DI leon #single dad leon

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yanderemommabean · 3 days

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Drider Mahito please mama I am begging on my hands and knees

The spider crawls forward, humming and tilting his head as he examines a few spots of his surroundings. A small bush here, a skittering critter over there, and of course a terrified bounding deer that’s trying to avoid the fate of the current one dangling and bleeding in the creature's mouth.

He’s so excited,the electricity thrumming over his skin. He wants to catch as many meals as he can, he’s sure if he catches the most then things will go just as planned!

Mahito was positive that all he needed to do was show he could hunt, gather, and track to be able to win your heart. He’s kept an eye on you for about a month now, watched you celebrate a holiday here and there, and was just in awe. You’re so intriguing. Most humans have boring and too bland of a life for him to care for, but you…You have a way about you. The way you carry yourself, the way you stand up to people despite their rank in your nest, the way you favor one thing yet despise another.

He wonders if you’re the kind to appreciate the beauties of eating one's family members. He could scoop up that pesky relative who questions too much, you seem to have an ire of sorts towards them.

Ah, maybe as a first courting sort of gift. For now he has to at least get his feet in the door!

Maybe you’d like that street cat as well? You cuddle the other ones though…mmm…No, best to leave it be. You humans have weird ways to show some creatures affection, and others horror and disdain.

Though, he supposes that's every creature.

Trudging around in the trees, he hums a small tune and waves to the other Driders and Nagas, finding their meals and their bones to chew on. Some wave with a smile, others move on with their eyes down or a soured look on their faces.

They’re smart. They see the markings that Mahito bears and know to stay a good distance. He has a reputation for mauling and using his venom just because some dare to look him in the eye. But that doesn't mean he’s a monster! What? He can’t have fun and play around?!

A crackle of leaves and twins makes everyone alert, and a wide, almost manic smile grows on Mahitos face. It's you! That scent, that heart beat, the heat he can see on your flesh-It’s you! Oh he can't wait! He can’t wait!

He scurries forward, blood and meat dripping down his chin and chest as he hurries toward you, pupils wide and wild as he manages to pinpoint exactly where you are. Ah! Now that he’s this close, he’s suddenly nervous!

But you look so pretty, so delicate, so easy to break and eat and devour if you were more of his prey….

Thankfully you’re his mate! Or, well, you will be! See, he isn’t keen on being told no to something he desperately wants. Be it food, territory, or a way to be with you every single day for the rest of his life.

You’ll accept, you’ll come home with him, learn his name and learn to stay inside at all times when he isn’t beside you. You’ll kiss and laugh and you’ll tell him how much you love him, how he’s such a good boy for you, how he’s such a hard working hunter who deserves your attention and love and-

He’s so lost in his excitement he doesn't hear the horrified screams you make as he drops the raw meat and bones at your feet. He just grins, a large tongue coming to swipe at his blood stained teeth as he waits like a dog for your answer and your praise. Surely you see how hard he’s worked on this right?!

Oh…you’re…scurrying away again?

Well that’s rather ungrateful don’t you think?

After everything he’s done?

His expression sours, but he doesn’t let you get away as he easily gets ahead of you, lifting you up with ease as you dangle in his grasp, begging for your life and terrified of the creature holding your life in his hands, literally.

“Insolent little wretch. I swear. I did all of this and you’re just going to turn away?!” he hisses, teeth coming close to nipping your skin as you feel your heart seize in your chest. Your voice, quivering and weak, speaks out as he dangles you higher, wanting to see the fear in your eyes for denying him your courtship.

“Please don’t kill me”. What? What the fuck are you talking about?! Why would you assume-

It clicks. You see him as a predator on the hunt rather than a mate to be loved by. Huh. How did you ever come to that conclusion? It’s like you think he’d eat your bone marrow or something!

Then there’s a simple solution to this! He just holds you in his hand, tight and firm, carrying you and your wriggling body away to the dark edges of his territory as he explains how he’ll prove himself.

It’s easy! You just have to let him show you how much he wants you! Well, it's more of a need at this point. He went feral just thinking of you with some other mate, human or not. And if those Naga's want their tails intact they’ll know to keep their distance.

-Mommabean (I hope you enjoyed!)

#yandere drider #yandere Mahito #yandere jjk #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere exophilia #yandere x reader #yandere male #Mommabean

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hai7ani · 16 hours

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haitani ran, gojo satoru, bakugou katsuki, shinazugawa sanemi, kuroo tetsuro, your faves

thinking about the salarymen who comes home to you after a really, really long day at work and all he wants to do is to just hold you and listen to whatever you are rambling on about and maybe kiss you a little. a lot. he wants to kiss you and kiss you and maybe fuck you both soft and hard in the shower...

but you refuse to let him do so while you're cooking and you tell him you absolutely cannot focus if he kisses you while you're at the stove. you keep slapping his face away when he comes too close so he does what he can with what he has. he drags a chair over from the dining table ー all the way to where you're standing at the stove cooking dinner, situates it behind you, sits down, and he just wraps his arms around your waist, buries his nose into your ass and just hugs you like that. kisses your back, inhales your scent like a dog and he reaches a sneaky hand over to the front to shove it into your panties when you're not paying attention. (he does make sure to wait until you're away from the stove, in case you burn yourself from his little antics.)

you kick him away then and he watches in amusement, in pure joy, as you nag his ear off and give him a horny ban for ten days. you tell him no sex until he learns to behave himself and he figures he can amuse you for a bit. lets you walk around the house with your chest stuck out, thinking that you win and your horny ban is final, doesn't fuss you when you're showering despite the burning desire to head into it with you and fucking you silly, even letting you go as far as to taunting him when you emerge from the shower all wet with nothing but his towel wrapped around your body. he doesn't make a move though, not even when you wiggle your eyebrows and throw the same towel to his face after getting dressed and he has to go hang it up himself because his self control is gooood. it's great.

not when he's sleepy though.

when it is time for bed he decides he can't take it anymore. yanks the comb away from your hands and throws you on the bed, hikes up your nightgown, and he eats you like it is his very last meal. fucks you like you're the only one that he loves. (you are the only one that he loves.) doesn't let you rest until he's had his fill and he listens with a prideful chest as you pant and moan and whine with no constraint at all. usually you'd still have the self control and remorse to keep your bliss down for a bit in fear of waking people up, but this time you don't. not at all. even moaning into his mouth when he hits that spot just right, arching your back prettily and driving him nuts when he flips you over. and perhaps this was what you wanted as well. you knew he fucked a lot better when he was stressed out, or whenever he was under your horny ban and just wants to slide in your warmth because the more you tell him no the more he wants to.

and you let him do whatever he wants with you until he's finally satisfied enough to go to sleep and he finally gets to kiss you on the lips then. it starts with a sweet peck until a full blown make-out session and you whine when you taste a bit of yourself on his tongue because it's embarrassing but he doesn't let you shy away into the covers.

"gonna eat you again in the morning. 's not enough."

perhaps you'll implement the horny ban a little more frequently... maybe...

i dunno what this is honestly. just needed to get it out cus i had caffeine earlier in the day n was functioning on 110% of my usual self

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro

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icarryitin · 2 days

Text

Help Me?

spencer reid/gn!reader

i love being in this guy’s brain there is just something so Character about him🧡 and happy birthday to you anon!!🥳

masterlist

word count: 4.5k // warnings: injury description (dislocated shoulder), mentions of injections and pills for pain relief, poor and inaccurate medical knowledge, non-sexual undressing, would you believe me if i told you the sexual tension in the second half of this was accidental? for those reasons this is 18+

“Try it, see what happens.”

You appear out of the shadows ahead of them, the gun in your hands aimed carefully at the Unsub’s back, like a goddamn guardian angel.

The guy isn’t going to give up without a fight, even with three federal agents to contend with, that much is obvious. His grip on his weapon is far shakier than any of yours, fingers twitching ever closer to the trigger. You’ve made the split second decision to launch yourself at him before he has the chance to fire off a shot.

Which means Spencer has a front row seat to the sickening thud of your side against the ground when you tackle the Unsub. He’s grateful that he and Hotch aren’t staring down the barrel of a gun anymore, but less grateful that it’s come at the price of the grimace clear on your face. You’ll be bruised for sure, going down as hard as you do.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks you as he hauls the Unsub up by his cuffed wrists. You take a moment to check yourself over, mentally inventory every joint and nerve, before you nod. Spencer holds a hand out towards you, which is taken without hesitation and you start pulling yourself up off the ground.

The crack of your shoulder as it pops out of the socket is so loud that the vibration of it tingles through your interlaced fingers and all the way up to his own.

A sharp yelp, followed by a weak whimper that makes his stomach flip, and he drops your hand like it’s scalding hot. You pull it into your chest with your good arm, palm cradling your elbow to give yourself a little support. Maybe you’d hit the ground a little harder than you meant to. It’s definitely dislocated. He can’t help but feel like it’s his fault.

Maybe that’s why he’s manoeuvring around you, where you sit pouting in a dusty heap. It’s what he tells himself anyway, as he slips large hands underneath your FBI vest – fingers pressed snugly against your ribs, separated by only a thin shirt, and he carefully helps you to your feet. The action has his face dangerously close to yours, so close that he’s terrified you’ll be able to hear how shallow his breaths are. But you seem to be far too focused on your own breathing to really register his proximity. Hotch is ahead already, Unsub in tow, but you’re the only thing Spencer is worried about right now. Someone else can collect the abandoned firearm from the ground, he has more important things to do. Like getting you into the care of a professional instead of his clumsy hands.

“Can you walk?”

A rhetorical question if he’s ever asked one. It’s your arm he’s pulled out of the socket, not a leg. You nod anyway, gently, but you don’t pull away from him. Instead your voice is soft, unsure.

“Help me?”

Of course he does, as if he’d be able to do anything else.

Does he really need to keep a hold on you, help you across the warehouse floor and out to an ambulance? Probably not. Does he do it anyway? Absolutely. You don’t seem to mind the closeness, judging by the way you lean into the solidity of him as the two of you shuffle towards the open door. He relishes in it, just a little. Because for all the camaraderie and familiarity that has built your friendship over the past few years, touches like this are so rare. Rare and usually instigated by you, when a case has hit him a little too close to home. It’s precious. To have you in his arms the way he’s wanted, wished for, literally dreamed about. There’s an irony in his earlier misplaced attempt to help you up, somewhere. Why can he only have you this close when one of you is hurting?

Raised eyebrows from the rest of the team be damned, he’ll carry you to the ambulance if he has to. He doesn’t but he’d try if you asked.

Spencer has seen all manner of terrible things. He’s seen them happen to strangers, friends, he’s been the one under the spotlight more than once. But he finds himself wholly unprepared to watch you wince as you hop up onto the back of the ambulance, legs dangling over the edge, arm still cradled protectively close to your chest. You flinch almost violently when the paramedic approaches you with outstretched hands which, in turn, only makes you hiss in pain. Your apology is small, quiet, sheepish. Everything he knows you not to be, which only makes him feel that much worse about being the reason you’re in this position in the first place. He’s not, the little logical voice in his brain tells him it was the fall you took, but he’s the one who offered to help you up. Can’t take that back.

“Do you have to?” You’re arguing with the paramedic when his brain checks back in to the conversation.

A sling has been placed by the open medical bag beside you, but it’s the object next to it that has your eyes wider than dinner plates. A needle, carefully sealed in its little package, ready and waiting to give you the pain relief that all three of you know you’re in desperate need of. There’s no way your shoulder can be reset here without it.

“You look at dead bodies all day, and you’re telling me you’re afraid of this?” The paramedic means well, he knows she does, but the grating sound of the sterile packaging being ripped open only serves to shrink you away from it even further.

“Phobias are rarely rational. In fact, the dictionary definition refers to one as being an extreme or irrational fear of, or aversion to, something. Phobias relating to medical procedures are pretty common actually.”

The barely hidden eye roll he gets from the paramedic would suggest he’s not helping the situation, but it’s the look that you give him. The one he gets across coroner slabs and conference tables and crime scenes, that tells him he is.

“I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to, considering this is kind of my fault,” Spencer holds his hand up between you, wiggling his fingers in front of a sad little smile, “But squeeze away.”

“I don’t know, I might break it.” You’re going for a light-hearted joke, but your gritted teeth pay you no favours.

“Then we’ll call it even.”

You take his hand, and he wonders if he’ll need to ask the paramedic to break out the defibrillator next – judging by the way his heart stutters in his chest.

And, to your credit, you only almost break it. The first squeeze is tight, muscles in your forearm trembling as the needle plunges deep into your shoulder. It won’t be enough to completely numb you, the paramedic confirms, but it’ll go a fair way towards dulling the pain. You should really go to a hospital, a bodge job in the back of an ambulance isn’t exactly Bureau protocol, but he knows that isn’t happening. God forbid you ever get shot, he’s sure that getting you treated properly for something like that would be more traumatic for you than any injury.

The second squeeze isn’t something he’s prepared for. You hang onto his hand as though your life depends on it once the paramedic has decided the painkillers have kicked in enough, though her fingers on your shoulder still have you tensing. She tells you to relax, uselessly. Instead, you turn your head away, bury it into Spencer’s shoulder, and dig your nails into the back of his hand. His knuckles crack under the pressure, synchronised popping absolutely miniscule compared to the thunderous pop your shoulder gives when the paramedic manipulates it back into place. Tears seep through his shirt as they dampen his shoulder, the tension in your jaw gives away the sob you’re biting back. You swallow it before you pull your face from the security of his warmth – brave face, as always – and dutifully allow the paramedic to tug the Kevlar vest over your head to make way for the sling she’s prepared.

You’re too on edge to really pay attention to the instructions she’s giving you, too preoccupied on slowing your heart rate to hear about the over the counter pain meds you should take, how long you need to keep the sling on. So, Spencer listens. He remembers, as he always does. He nods and tells her he’ll make sure you do everything by the book, because he knows you won’t be on your way to the doctor’s office in a hurry if your recovery doesn’t go to plan.

JJ popping up in your field of vision seems to lighten your mood, the stiffness falls away and you choke out a laugh alongside a sarcastic comment about heroics being above your paygrade. It’s fake, the laughter. Your spine is still rigid, smile a little too tight to be true. But nobody else seems to notice. They’re just glad you’re alright. Something about your rapid mood change scratches an itch in his brain, the smallest part of it that’s just a little smug. Because you don’t let on about your fear to the others. Just him.

Spencer piles into the back of the second SUV after you, behind Rossi and Emily, and takes it upon himself to make sure you’re strapped in. Admittedly, you could manage it yourself, but he doesn’t want you to. There are eyes on the back of his head when he leans over to carefully pull the seatbelt across you, when he makes sure to steer clear of your sling, but they’re easy to ignore when you’re watching him the way you are. Your quiet affirming hum follows the click of the seat belt plug when you meet his questioning gaze, calming the pounding in his chest and he doesn’t pull back right away. Involuntarily, his eyes drop to your lips for the barest of moments.

He could kiss you.

Right here, right now. In the back of the SUV, with your arm in a sling, and your colleagues watching on. He could do it. But he doesn’t.

He knows what he wants your first kiss to be like – a little pocket of his brain is dedicated to it, plays scenario after scenario in the moments before he settles down to sleep every night. Silly little bedtime stories.

Except they’re not silly, because somewhere along the way he stumbled out of his harmless little crush and into something much more serious. He knows what it is, he won’t put a name to it. Instead, he daydreams. It’s not always the same, the location varies - sometimes you’re at work, in the bullpen or the conference room, or obscured from the rest of the team by the metallic bulk of an SUV. Sometimes you’re in his apartment, in the kitchen, by the window in the living room, in the doorway of his bedroom. Sometimes it’s just a street corner, at night, at midday, dawn, dusk. But you, you’re always the same. You always look at him with a smile that could light the entire city, and he just tells you.

Spills his guts out all over the floor, every part of him left raw and vulnerable, as he tells you he loves you - has always loved you. Maybe even before he met you. He tells you how his heart stopped in his chest that first morning you walked into the BAU office, how he nearly spilled his coffee down his shirt, how his glasses steamed up with the heat from his cheeks. How Derek, JJ, Garcia, the entire team has been teasing him for literal years. How sometimes he thinks he catches you looking at him, but that’d be just too good to be true wouldn’t it?

And then your smile grows, and you take a step further into his space until there’s scarcely any room between you. That’s when you tell him you do look at him, you look at him all the time. Because you love him, just as hopelessly and desperately and effortlessly as he loves you. That’s when he kisses you. When he grasps your face in his hands and takes a deep breath of you before crashing into you with a bruising force. You take it, of course you do, just as eagerly as he pours himself into it. The kiss of a lifetime. That’s how he’d do it.

But he can’t do any of that, not now.

So, he pulls back, plugs his own seatbelt in, and lets himself wallow in the post-case stillness that settles in the car. Punctuated by Penelope’s voice through the speaker on your phone though it may be. She’s relieved, a little mad that you’d put yourself in harm’s way, but ultimately glad you’re safe. He smiles to himself at that, he can’t help but agree.

Quantico’s parking garage is dark this time of night, of course it would be, but the chill of the concrete seeps into his bones. You shiver beside him as he helps you slide out of the SUV. Goodbyes are short, sweet, exhausted. Each member of the team wandering towards their own vehicles, leaving you and Spencer standing alone under the fluorescent lights.

“Let’s get you home, superhero.” He grins at you as his hand settles gently on the small of your back, guiding you towards the street exit.

It’s not far to the train station, the streets are still busy even at this time of night. Tourists and businessmen and politicians all alike. But you don’t get jostled in the slightest, he makes sure of it - carefully weaving through the throngs to get you safely to your platform. It’s only as he steps onto the train with you that you realise his own home is in the complete opposite direction. It’s borderline unfair how fuzzy he feels at your concern for his own journey.

“I said I was getting you home, not getting you to the station.” He can’t help the fond smile that settles on his features as you look up at him from your seat. He’s chosen to stand, partially in front of you, as a sort of makeshift barrier between your injured arm and any potential commuters who might stumble into you. He holds his hand out to you expectantly and it takes you another moment to fish your keys out of your bag. They’re placed softly in his palm, your fingers barely brushing his. The touch is so gentle compared to the way you almost squeezed that same hand to death only a couple of hours earlier. He just about manages to suppress the shudder that threatens to buckle his knees, and he counts his lucky stars that your building is only a block away from the train’s destination.

The thought only occurs to Spencer when he’s halfway over the threshold of your apartment, too preoccupied with getting you back safely to realise he’s actually never been in your home before. Organised chaos is the term he’d use. The open plan kitchen and living area is tidy but cluttered, books of every genre piled on shelves with no real strategy, a haphazard stack of second hand vinyls that are mostly Tom Waits sit atop an old record player, a small collection of cacti in mismatched terracotta pots are lined up on your little kitchen windowsill. The cupboards are a deep green, which should really be at odds with the peach tinged wash on the walls, but the combination is just soft enough to work. It’s very you.

“I can take care of myself, you don’t have to stay.”

Your name leaves his lips in the same tone it usually does before he can stop it, the same heavy sigh that wraps around the letters more often than not. God, you know exactly how to push his buttons, even when you don’t mean to. You’re missing the point entirely – he wants to take care of you. It’s so rare that you let him.

“Nice try,” He says as he sets your work bag down on one of the chairs at the round kitchen table, “Get changed, I’ll fix up some dinner.”

“You will?” The teasing grin on your face is either because you don’t think he can cook, or because you can’t. He’s leaning towards the former.

“Hey, I’m a man of many talents.”

You stand there for another long few seconds, just watching him. It’s not dissimilar to the look you gave him at the ambulance, in the SUV, on the train home. Like there’s something you’re desperate to say to him; only, you’re not sure how to say it. So you turn on your heel and close the bedroom door behind you.

Spencer physically has to shake off the weight of your gaze before he can move again, even after you’re gone. His own bag finds its place beside yours, jacket folded and draped neatly over the back of the metal chair. It’s the kind of dining set he’d expect to see outside a Parisian cafe, as opposed to being tucked in the corner of a DC apartment. Chipped white metalwork and all, probably originally a garden set, but it fits the eclectic thrift store vibe you’ve curated throughout the space. He finds himself drifting towards your overstuffed bookshelf, to the beat up record player and the pile of albums - the protective sleeve of each one shabbier than the last. He’d been right at first glance, the collection is mostly second-hand Tom Waits albums - with a little Queen, The Magnetic Fields, and Fleetwood Mac in the mix. The album on top is the most dog-eared, and he doesn’t have to employ a single one of his profiling skills to know this one is the most loved, most played, and he’s sure you’ll appreciate the comfort of some background noise. So he’s concentrating on sliding the record out of the sleeve, carefully placing it onto the turntable, and setting the needle down.

The bluesy first bars of Tom Waits’ Heartattack and Vine fill the room at the same time you open the bedroom door, looking more than a little sorry for yourself. And, to his credit, Spencer does a pretty good job of not laughing at the picture of you in the open doorway.

You’ve got yourself tangled up, all wrinkled shirtsleeves and oozing embarrassment - one sleeve dangles empty by your side where the other is still firmly encased by the sling, your sole free arm pokes out of the bottom of your sweater. Your eyebrows are drawn as you look everywhere but at him.

“Can you…?” You trail off. A breath pushes its way out of your lungs, half-sigh and half-helpless laugh.

“Come on.” He erases the distance between you in two strides, hands turning you at the waist before he can even really think about what he’s doing. You shuffle into the room ahead of him, soft rug shielding your socked feet from the cold of the wooden floor. He’s pleased to find the same decorative tastes extend through to your bedroom.

Another bookshelf, also stuffed to the brim with enough material to start your own bookstore. A little wooden desk by the window paired with a chair that doesn’t match, the wall to the right of it is plastered in multicoloured post it notes - a few of them catch his eye, reminders and ideas and shopping lists. Your bedspread is the same dark green as your kitchen cabinets, although it’s mostly obscured by a mess of patchwork blankets and jewel toned decorative pillows. Your sunshine plush has pride of place balanced against the left-hand bedpost on top of the headboard. Even without an eidetic memory, he’d remember the look on your face when he won it for you. Undercover at a travelling carnival in Oregon, the job at hand was to lure out an Unsub whose tastes fit you to a T, but he’d been uncharacteristically powerless to resist at least trying to get something for you. Your cover was a couple, anyway. He’d only been in character. Not only do you still have it, but it has pride of place, and something about it has his pride rearing its head.

You’re fussing with your pyjamas, a threadbare hoodie and garishly patterned sweatpants, when he turns his attention back to you. The reality of the situation seems to hit you both in the same moment.

Spencer is going to have to undress you.

It’s not how he imagined it would be - and that is definitely not something he needs to think about right now. He could keep his eyes closed? Although not being able to see where he should put his hands is arguably more dangerous than it would be to pay attention. He has to clear his throat before he can find his voice.

“I’m going to have to take this off,” He gestures to the sling, hoping he sounds less noticeably wrecked to you than he does to himself, “But we’ll go slow, okay?”

It’s cruel, is what it is, to watch you nod your agreement, to witness your unshakeable trust that he won’t hurt you so closely. Ultimately, it’s not overly different to the way he checks over your protective vest. There’s a strategy, a system to it just the same as the task that lies ahead, and he’ll follow it step by scientific step.

The sling is first, straps carefully undone and the support sliding off your arm - you both support it, your elbow in his palm where yours settles under your wrist. The one free hand you have between you, Spencer’s, works your shirt up over your uninjured shoulder and tugs it over your head. His eyes never drift beyond what you’ve asked of him, though it isn’t for lack of temptation. He slides the remaining sleeve off of your injured arm with a touch so light that neither of you wouldn’t know it was there if not for the skim of his fingers over your bare skin. Your hoodie replaces your work shirt just as carefully, in reverse. Injured arm first, head, uninjured arm. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he concentrates on looping the sling over the thick cotton, securing your arm tight to your chest again. Job done, and without too much embarrassment. He’d call that a success.

“Would you mind-” You struggle for a moment, “The clasp is fiddly.”

Spencer doesn’t know what you mean at first, and then it clicks - and it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You need him to undo your trousers. He can do that, he can do it. He might feel like he’s about to spontaneously combust over the request, but he can do it.

There’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for you, to tell the truth.

It takes him longer than it should to slip the hook out of its clasp, usually nimble fingers fumbling under the weight of both of your gazes. But he doesn’t stop there. Because his usually brilliant mind is buzzing with static and his hands are moving of their own accord and the teeth of the zip on your trousers as he pulls it down is loud.

Spencer pulls back like he’s been shocked, while your eyes remain firmly glued to his hands. Hands that now wring themselves with anxiety as he quietly asks if you can manage the rest. You don’t respond verbally - it takes another long second, but you start shimmying the trousers off of your hips with your free hand. The slightest glimpse of bare thigh has him spinning on his heel and marching towards the kitchen in search of food.

He’s not thinking about the soft material of your sweatpants being pulled carefully over your legs in the other room, as he roots around in your kitchen cupboards. He’s not. A can of chopped tomatoes, a handful of half-empty spice jars, just about enough dry spaghetti for two. It’ll do. A pot of water is set on the stove to boil, the noise is enough of a distraction when the bedroom door opens again behind him. You shuffle about for a few minutes, digging around your shelves and Tom Waits’ gravelly tone cuts off abruptly to be replaced by the softer voice of Stevie Nicks instead. The volume ticks down a couple of notches before you join Spencer in the kitchen as he warms the tomatoes and spices alongside the boiling noodles, moving around him with the same ease you do in the office. You pull out two bowls that don’t match - one is shallower and wider and glazed a sunshine yellow, there’s a chip in the lip of it. The other one is smaller, deeper, glazed navy blue instead and with a cheeky face etched into the pottery. Its nose protrudes slightly, rounded out on one side. He can’t help his smile when he dishes out two equal portions and the red sauce drips down onto the bowl’s nose. He swipes at the mess with his thumb before handing you the bowl.

“Thank you.” You search out his gaze this time, urging him to look you in the eye. For cooking, or what he’s sure is your favourite bowl, or staying. He’s not sure. He wants to tell you that you don’t have to thank him, he’d drop anything and everything at any moment if you needed him to. But something in your eyes has stolen his voice, a flicker of something he’s far too terrified to acknowledge. So he only smiles, takes the yellow dish in his hands, and follows you to the comfort of your vintage floral couch.

It’s not a table dinner kind of evening, you seem to have decided. Although the precarious balance of the bowl on your knees suggests otherwise, as you try to eat one handed. Spencer leans forward to pull the cushion from behind his back, his own dinner temporarily abandoned on the floor in front of him, and he picks up your bowl to slide the cushion across your lap in lieu of a tray. Your laugh is quiet, you don’t look at him, but whatever tension had built in the bedroom dissipates with the sound.

Even so, he shoots off a text to Penelope while you’re preoccupied with your spaghetti, asks if she can lend you a helping hand for the next few days if you need one. You shouldn’t need the sling for more than a week anyway. She responds with a smiley face and a kiss almost immediately. It’s not the first time in his life he’s thanked whatever mystical force is responsible for Penelope Garcia.

Spencer will corral you to the doctor’s office for a checkup in a few days, he’ll make sure you do your stretches, he’ll set alarms for your painkillers. And, ultimately, he’ll come back if you ask him to. He’ll help you in and out of your pyjamas if that’s what you want, of course he will.

Regardless of the way it sets his insides aflame. He’ll do it for you.

yes i know reader inserts are blank slates yes this apartment is basically just my own flat no i don’t care thank u🧡🧡

#acts of service as a love language is so underrated he just wants to hELP YOU!!!!#AAUUGGGHHHHHH anyway #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #the canyouniverse #lou writes

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 day

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DG x Reader: Public Announcement

G/N. Your relationship is leaked...

The first picture was leaked at 7:04pm. That was the moment everything took a turn. For the worse, you thought.

And it's funny the things you focus on. Not the rabid stans calling you every name under the sun, or screaming about how DG is betraying them. Nor the messages or calls coming thick and fast to your phone.

Instead you thought Huh. That's a particularly flattering angle of you, and an unflattering angle of DG, which almost never happens.

Both your heads bowed, foreheads touching. Gone is his cool aloof veneer. In place of it, he looks at you like you've hung the moon.

So all things considered, maybe this wasn't too bad.

Sure you looked close, intimate. More than friends. But you still had culpable deniability.

The next picture came 5 minutes later. Ah. You're kissing. There goes the deniability.

(If you recall that day correctly, he also left some love bites along your neck too.

You bring your hand up to your collarbone, touching the tender skin. You can still feel the heat of his lips.)

And this brings you to now, when a blurred picture of you, but not blurred enough, comes into existence with those bruises on your neck and walking hand in hand with someone with familiar pink hair.

Damn.

A statement is released from the PTJ company on the relationship status of their CEO.

You sincerely doubt that DG has vetted it first if the tone is anything to go by. And it seems like they're still going hard after the deniability angle. Blaming it on photoshopping and filters and whatever technology they can pull out their ass.

You're proven right hours later when DG storms home in a foul mood.

"Diego-" you start and that seems to snap him out of it.

"James," he corrects you, taking a deep breath to decompress. Because it's always James when it's just the two of you alone.

"James. It's fine, you can deny it. Play the company line. Blame it on AI or whatever," you swallow down the hurt.

He's never made you feel like a dirty little secret. Truth be told, the unwillingness to go public was more due to your dislike of the limelight. However, now that it is already public, it seems disingenuous to lie. To tell the world there's nothing there. And what if it's because it's actually nothing, that you're not important enough to stake his reputation on. Sure, it's selfish and self-centred but-

"No," James cuts through your spiralling thoughts with one word.

"No?"

"No." He takes a moment to consider his next move. Realises that out of all the things that could be leaked to the press, his unsavoury dealings and bloody past, this is by far the lesser evil.

Had hoped that when this moment would come, and he would announce this relationship to the world, he would have much more control. Be able to shield you from the negative attention.

Still, it's never too late to control the narrative or to do everything in his power to protect you.

James whips out his phone, fires off a text or an email or likely a social media post because moments afterwards, your phone goes crazy again.

"Diego Kang is all yours." He announces, tossing his phone onto the coffee table with a clatter.

You look at him, long legs crossed, body language exuding confidence. The wicked gleam in his eyes. His smirk, fangs bared and dangerous. He looks at you like he wants to devour you, make you entirely his.

As if you weren't already.

You're his and he's yours. And now the entire world also knows.

#someone save me. why is this man in my thoughts #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #dg #dg x reader #lookism dg #diego kang #kang dagyeom #kang dagyum #james lee x reader #james lee #wannaeatramyeon

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zoropookie · 2 days

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WHAT YOU WON'T DO FOR LOVE (WYWDFL) — ONE

YOU couldn't be having a worse halloween night. choose your fate with your fellow readers and see if it gets better!

soulmate!wanderer x gn!reader

"Yeah, I understand that it's the third day I haven't paid my rent, I'm telling you my banks been closed."

Your voice to your landlord, Kamisato Ayato (who is also your boss), on the phone reeked with desperation. And yet, even though this was the case, you still had time to snack on chicken strips at a picnic table.

"(L/N), there's nothing else I can do, your extension is up. I need a payment by tomorrow." His voice crackled through the phone, stern but never sympathetic. "I have other tenants to consider."

"Wouldn't have guessed that one." You laughed as a jab at the other, a thin veneer of your humor and the intense need to scream gnawed at your mouth. “You’re rich as hell telling me that you have other tenants to consider, but you’re still making me clean toilets? Couldn't give me a promotion to accountant or anything? I know about 16 of your slimy practices.”

“You're being dramatic.”

“The only other tenants are Itto and Yoimiya with her dad. This is a side thing for you with how often my shower head is broken.” Your eyes dulled. “If anything, I should be telling you to pay me.”

The other end went silent, as your boss Ayato cleared his throat. “I never said it was free housing in the lease.”

“Ooh, slimy practice number 17! Hey, maybe if you make it to 20, I can wring 700,000 mora out of you.”

“You can make as many threats as you want, you still haven't paid in time. I can’t keep extending deadlines for you.” Ayato’s voice hardened. “If you can’t pay by tonight, you will have to find somewhere else to stay.”

You felt helpless in the moment, but still managed to hold on to the call for just a few more seconds. “Really, Kamisato.” Your voice dulled. “You’re going to lock me out of my apartment, keep me in a Halloween costume, and deny my valid reason just because I didn’t pay up 1,000 mora? Me, who cleans your event hall everyday.”

“Perhaps you should have been more conscious of your money management. Please be more responsible in the future, (L/N). Good luck to you.”

And with that, he hung up. You let out a growl of frustration and slammed your phone down on the picnic table. It happened to bounce up and land face down on the floor. You gasped lightly, reaching quickly to pick it up as you checked it frantically.

Cracks up and down the screen of your phone you still managed to be making payments on. "Wow..." You stared at the cracks in disbelief, feeling a disastrous amount of weight that prompted you to throw away the greasy chicken strips. You've been going to this place for so long to save money that you wondered if you were ever really saving anyway.

You gathered your thoughts quickly before continue your walk back home. You had just came back from a big Halloween party that your neighbor Yoimiya invited you to. You weren't listening entirely, but she was yapping hard about this concept about soulmates and how it's been actually proven that what the mark you were born with yadda yadda yadda. Because of this, anyway, she had made these weird concoctions that made the fireworks different colors. From purple, orange, green, and so on to get everyone in the spirit.

You were too scared of her to say no; one of these days you were convinced she's going to accidentally make a nuke and kill everyone. You'd rather not make an enemy if it meant you had a chance living in her oddly huge bunker (how did she make a bunker underground her bottom floor apartment?).

If anything, your spirit was crushed as soon as you left the party. With how the only guy blowing up your phone was Ayato and he just wanted the money that he gave you back, and looking like a very horrible version of an 80's professional acrobatics instructor with an equally as bad haircut, you were pretty much having the worst Halloween night of your life.

Especially seeing your crush for 13 years, Xiao, kiss the literal only other guy at the party, Venti. How long were you even waiting to get your chance? He didn't even know Venti that well compared to you, and he was probably crushing on him just because he could sing. And now you have the very moment that you were happy to not in the blink of an eye, so miserable seeing it that you could swear you felt yourself sober up.

And to Creep by Radiohead blaring in the background, they were kissing to one of the most unconventional songs you can kiss to. For what may have been a song for them to remember their first kiss was a song that you wanted to shove an ice pick through your ear canal every time you heard it now. You guessed the soulmate stuff Yoimiya was talking about was true. They saw the exact same mark on each others wrists...

You could sing too, probably even better than he could. Singing isn't even that hard.

As you started singing a very off-key and melancholic version of Teenage Dream by Katy Perry to prove yourself right, you weren't even worried about the long winded alleyways and dark streets you were weaving through. The eeriness of the night was mocking, but comforting. Long, distorted shadows, making the streetlights cast them oddly.

Your footsteps echoed against the narrow walls of the alleyways, a gust of wind sent a shiver down your spine and stretched the night on. You kicked a pebble absentmindedly, watching as it skittered along the cracked pavement. It was ironic being at a party you actually felt comfortable being at and getting your hopes absolutely shattered in the meantime. It seemed so out of reach from what did occur.

The sight of your apartment was a burden, and even though you were guaranteed going to be kicked out tomorrow, you didn't want to linger on the reminder any longer.

As you were about to climb the steps, you paused once you heard something similar to a whine. It was faint when you first heard it, almost blending in to the light pollution of the street. You turned your body towards the nearby alleyway, awaiting for another noise to confirm your delusions. Moments passed, each second stretching into eternity. Just when you were about to dismiss it again, another cry of what sounded like a man alerted you, followed by a groveling sound that sounded similar to a guttural gurgle.

Hell. No.

Now usually, you would mind your business and go to sleep with a knife in the bed next to you. You were not a stickler for being the person in the horror movies that said 'let's go see what it is'! But you weren't entirely convinced that the neighborhood was terrible, and with your current dilemma? Maybe dying a horrible death would feel better than whatever you're about to go through in the next twenty-four hours.

But at the same time...you weren't convinced that whatever is doing that wasn't an injured puppy or something. You may have had a heart for what happens to animals, but you aren't stupid.

#zoropookie #wywdfl #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you #self insert #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you

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luxurychristmaspudding · 9 hours

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thinking about fwb!frankie smiling a little too bashfully at a pretty lady in a bar. thinking about you watching from the table, hand tightening and slipping against the cool wet of your glass.

too occupied with her, he's missing the way you frown, how your stomach drops and churns. how jealousy - something you promised each other you'd never feel - begins to swoop up through your legs and into your arms and up your throat. misses how pope has to snap his fingers in front of your eyes to get your attention, misses will's sharp look across the room to where frankie is standing. the whirring of understanding in his features, of pity.

he misses the quiet satisfaction you have of knowing that will is wrong - that you're not just friends, that you know what francisco morales feels like. in your mouth, between your legs, inside you, on top of you, behind you, below you. know what it's like to have him beg and plead, know the feeling of absolute power when he is on his knees in front of you.

you're cold when he comes back to the table. joking and laughing with the boys, clinging to benny's shoulder. the other man looks fucking delighted, and it makes frankie sick. you don't snort at his jokes, don't acknowledge his stories. and he's begging you, mind to mind, to look at him.

when you do, over the rim of your glass, your eyes are like stone.

you've always made him nervous. from the very first time you walked into the hangar and introduced yourself as the new rpa pilot, he'd known he was in trouble. fiercely intelligent, unflappable, capable, confident, terrifyingly beautiful, he was fucked from the start.

and here, now - retired, covered in scars, riddled with nightmares - he's nervous in a different way. worried about what that look means, something broiling crashing in his stomach as he watches you and benny.

he follows you home in his truck when you leave the bar. walks through your front door timidly, twists his cap in his hands on the welcome mat. flinches when you jerk your head at the stairs. can't look at you as you strip before him in your room, his gut twisting. is ordered not to look at you as you tie his wrists behind his back, knees pressed into the carpet.

he can only hear how wet you are as you sink your fingers into yourself on the edge of your bed. he tries desperately to separate the sounds from what you're telling him. how maybe he should have gone home with that other girl if he was so interested. how you saw how she made him laugh, how she touched his arm, how he blushed. but he knows better than to think you're jealous. knows better than to tell you how that wasn't what he wanted at all. how every time he looked at the table, waiting for a rescue, you were turned away. how he couldn't find your eyes, his lighthouse while he's lost at sea. how he can't think of anyone else, doesn't want anyone else, blushed because he felt so disgusted at the way she touched him, desired him.

you tell him to look at you when you're close. something confusing burning in your chest, the confession you'd made in a roundabout way. you don't know if he heard it for what it was, but it doesn't matter when you command him to shuffle forwards, when he buries his face in your cunt.

he eats you like a man starved. sloppy and focused, tongue hardened to a point against your clit as he sucks you up, swallows, moans. hot and wet and vulnerable, your hands buried in his hair. he makes you come like that, and then twice more, before he's almost in tears. so achingly hard against his zipper it's painful, so sorry for how he made you feel. ready for you to take him in your arms, for the facade to drop, for you to be you again. he's patient, he's good. he knows the rules, knows his limits just as well as you do. senses the end coming as you pull gently on his curls, tilting his head back, cooing at him with eyes warmer than magma. you swipe your thumb along his bottom lip, cradle his chin, his cheek in your hand. lean forwards to press a kind kiss to his forehead.

he wants wants wants.

wants his hands free, his dick free, wants to feel you on him. wants you.

so close he can taste it as you kneel beside him, pressing more kisses to his cheek, his jawbone, his temple, the corner of his lips. he holds his breath as your fingers work at his restraints, lungs clenching tight as you whisper in his ear -

'you gonna beg, baby?'

yes, yes, he will. he'll do anything for you.

'please -' he croaks, 'please, baby, let me touch y-'

there's a pounding on your front door downstairs. frankie knows from the way you freeze you're just as surprised as he is.

he whimpers as you rise, as you wrap your robe around yourself. moans against your mouth when you lean down to kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his skin.

'wait here for me, baby,' you murmur, 'let me go and see who it is.'

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #fic: ykmtw

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cyberrose2001 · 2 days

Note

Can we pretty please have some angsty fluff?

Maybe Optimus Prime from TFP returning to Earth because he missed his s/o. (Let's pretend RID never existed. Please.) Maybe he left on a bad note and they told him that they'd never forgive him. And once he's back, she's completely ignoring him and she's trying her best to avoid him at all costs

You can choose what to do in the end. I want to see your mind wander :DD

Unforgiven Goodbyes

TFP Optimus x human! gn! reader

whoops

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury/blood, mental struggles, just straight-up angst.

Word count: 2,475

You're pissed off. No, you're more than pissed off. A tangle of emotions that would take a lifetime to detangle in your mind. You are pissed off, heartbroken, angry, yet excruciatingly relieved to see him.

But you can't bring yourself to face him again. That beautiful, other-worldly sculpted face seems to torment you whenever you close your eyes. That moment when he looked back at you before he plunged himself into the Well of Allsparks, the look of apologetic heroicness. It burned into your brain and left a nasty scab that you can't help but pick at. But the scar has healed. You've disciplined yourself to stop scratching it, but watching him walk through the hangar doors ripped it open once again.

You've distracted yourself as much as you can. Doing pointless chores around the new base the bots have made themselves at home with, going for long walks outside by yourself, hiding around every corner when you hear that rumbling voice. You tried everything to keep the wound closed, to pretend that he's still dead, to justify all the mourning you've gone through all these years.

Another reason not to face him was how you reacted when he told you his plan. You were the first to know, and you've never felt your heart sink so fast. It was like he had struck a dagger to your stomach and kissed you as you were bleeding out. You had exploded with anger you couldn't control and stormed out before he could do anything about it. You screamed at him as he collapsed onto his knees that you would never forgive him, and so far, you've kept that promise. The next time you saw him was before he made his great sacrifice, and you had nothing else to say to him. You couldn't say anything else.

And you won't for a long time, not when you have headphones on to block out the world. You stand at the sink in the human kitchen. It's semi-exposed to the main base, with a half-wall shielding the stove and sink. You're not sure why it's exposed; it must be concerning the lack of rooms in this old military bunker. You don't care anyway. You only care about scrubbing the dishes beyond clean and slamming them onto the drying rack before you break the delicate ceramic plates from gripping them too hard.

While cleaning the dishes, you don't realise how much of a racket you're making with your music blasting and capture the attention of the one bot you were trying to avoid.

Optimus.

He looks at you curiously, a hint of longing in his optics. Optimus knows you're avoiding him, and it's so blatantly obvious that everyone notices, too, creating tension through the base you could cut with a sharp enough knife. He wants to talk to you. He needs to talk to you. And so far, this is the only opportunity he's stumbled upon that could make it possible. Though, he doesn't want to frighten you and scare you away. He needs to be gentle and cautious in his actions, but it's difficult when you can't hear or see him.

Optimus reaches out, his servo twitching at how gentle he's trying to be. He touches your shoulder with a single digit but retracts his servo quickly when you jump out of your skin and drop a plate on the floor, shattering the ceramic in all different directions.

You scream then seethe, ripping your headphones off to face whoever dares to lay a finger on you, "Why the fuck would you-"

Frozen in your tracks, you stare at Optimus, the longest you've looked at him in a long time. Your heart snaps in two again, and the wound in your mind festers with flashbacks before you try to make a run for it. You don't get far, though, before you step on a piece of broken ceramic and cry out in pain.

"Ah!" You fall back on the ground, clutching your lower leg, "Fuck it-"

"Y/n, I am so sorr-"

"N-No!" You practically spit in his face. You let go of your leg and scramble backwards into a corner. With nowhere else to go, you turn to face him again and watch how his grip tightens on the railing before him. If looks could kill, Optimus would still be dead. Maybe you secretly hoped it was possible, "Get away from me."

"Please, you're hurt," Optimus looks down at your bare foot, now bleeding heavily onto the floor from a deep gash.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, not giving a damn that you're bleeding. You've been through worse, after all, "Oh, so now you care?"

Optimus tilts his helm, "What? I have always cared-"

"Oh really? You're really going to do this, Optimus?" You growl, grabbing the bench above you to pull yourself up, "You didn't seem to care about me when you sacrificed yourself! No, scratch that," You point a bloody finger at him, "When you fucking abandoned me!"

Optimus's shoulders sink, his grip on the railing relaxing as he feels like you've plunged a knife into him, "I did not-" He sighs heavily, like he cannot find the words, "Please... let us get you to Ratchet."

"I don't need his or- or your help," You hobble on one foot, hissing in pain as you make your way to anywhere else on the planet. The blood smears on the floor with every misguided step as you pass by him with a cold shoulder, "I've managed just fine on my own, Prime." You sneer at him.

Optimus watches you hop down the stairs, and he slumps his frame down on the railing. His vocaliser rumbles with regret and pain at how you're treating him. And it's not like he can blame you. Optimus would probably be stricken with the same grief if a lover of his decided to sacrifice themselves; he'd be absolutely distraught. And all that distraught just for them to return like it was a mere week-long vacation? Well, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He thought you would be overjoyed and run up to him with that beautiful smile on your lips, perhaps even beg for one of those joyrides he always loved taking you on through the desert. He thought you would've missed him, the bare minimum for someone who has lost a loved one.

Optimus sighs and lifts his helm from the railing before turning on his pedes to look for something else to distract him from you. He looks down before he takes a step and sees your trail of smeared blood on the concrete. His optic ridges furrow, a look of determination and apprehension as he steps to follow your crimson breadcrumbs out of the hangar doors.

Before he reaches the hangar doors, a soft touch plants itself on his shoulder, and he jolts slightly. Optimus turns his helm down to see a gloomy look on Ratchet's face, his servo squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Let them go, Optimus," He speaks softly, "They need some space."

Space is the only thing he's given them so far.

"Stupid fucking dishes. Stupid me. Stupid him."

Your fingers tremble as you rip some of your shirt off to wrap around the gash in your foot. The minor hit of adrenaline quickly left you like a hit of nic as soon as you slumped down on the other side of the hangar outside. The dull throbbing turns into sharp pain as you tighten the fabric, causing a small whimper to leave your throat. You relax your head against the concrete wall behind you, wishing you could slam it against it instead. But anger slowly drains from your frame, and you bury your face into your dirty hands, and you sob—a heartbreaking sight to anyone that were to stumble upon you.

But you find that the tears weren't mourning from him, but for yourself.

How selfish are you? Are you so dense in the head that you're blindsighted to how much he loves you? How much Optimus missed you that even after facing the hereafter, he came back for you? How awful must the afterlife be for him to want to come back to you, of all people? These questions come flooding into your mind with every tear-jerking sob that wracks your body. But the one question at the forefront of your mind terrifies you, making you want to slump further into the self-deprecating aura you've swallowed yourself in.

Do you still love him?

You bite your lip hard. Do you still love him? That's a stupid question to ask yourself. Of course you still love him. You wouldn't be the person you are today if you never did.

Then why the fuck do you push him away?

You don't know. Maybe it was how you spoke to him before he took his own spark, being so ashamed of yourself that you could barely look at him. Or perhaps you've become too comfortable in your new adjustment to life without him, and for that to all come crumbling down so suddenly with no warning has shaken you to your core.

That's very selfish of you.

You know that. You've always known that.

Maybe you just weren't ready to let go.

A deep, trembling breath leaves your parted lips.

...

Yeah, you know.

Optimus stealthily follows the trail once again after Ratchet leaves. He just can't walk away after that encounter. And as much as it hurts him to see your reaction, he must ensure you're okay despite whatever you spit in his face. Optimus did not beg at the throne of Primus himself for another chance at nothing. He needs to make amends, no matter how much of a fight you put up at your wishes to be left alone.

Soft steps of his pedes lead him on a wild goose chase. It seemed as if you had stumbled around in circles for quite some time, the trail of blood looping around before overlapping itself to follow the edge of the hangar. Optimus become increasingly concerned about your welfare, worried you have lost too much blood. But he knows that you are tough if all these years on your own have anything to show for it.

His pace replaces stealth for hastiness as he continues on the trail, rounding the next corner of the hanger. He stops in his tracks when he sees you, and his eyes soften with pure broken-heartness. His servos clenching in regret.

He carefully approaches your slumped frame and stands before you. He first notices your foot, half bandaged and leaking slightly. You weren't wrong after all. You could take care of yourself. He smiles softly to himself at this.

Optimus carefully kneels in front of you, still a fair distance away. All he wants to do is pick you up and tell you that everything is alright, that he's here and not ready to leave again anytime soon.

He keeps his servos to himself for now.

"Y/n," Optimus begins softly, "I know you are upset," This seems like an all too familiar conversation, "And you have every right to be."

No reaction from you so far, a few sobs and hiccups. His spark clenches.

"I did not get a chance to tell you how truly thankful I am for you," Optimus continues, fidgeting with a digit in his lap, "How I still reminisce on our long-forgotten time together, even whilst I was merged with the All Spark."

Optimus takes a chance. He shuffles closer to you and gently pries your hands from your face like you were a pretty piece of wrapping paper he wanted to keep. His optics drag over your sodden face, how your eyes begin to focus on his. It wasn't the fiery look of anger he had seen just earlier but one that looked of surrender; you had given up a fight he wished he could've helped you with.

Optimus moves one servo from your hands to gently caress your face, a gentle digit brushing over your cheeks, "My, just look at you," He cups your chin softly, tilting your head to look up at him, "You are still as beautiful as ever."

He watches as the tears well in your eyes again, a small glimmer in your eyes that's more familiar to him than the dull. You grip his servo and pull it into a hug, resting your forehead on his wrist, and you cry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry...I-I'm stupid... I shouldn't have..." You sob, clutching onto him with every fibre of your being, "Oh god..."

Optimus's spark fizzles and cracks at your heart-breaking apology and the tears dripping onto his servo. He gives you a sombre look before carefully pulling you into his servos, picking you up to press you against his chassis to return his long-awaited affections.

"Shh," He hushes your cries, pressing a gentle kiss to your head as he rocks you softly like a slumbering sparkling, "It is alright; nothing you say could ever make me resent you."

You sniffle, burying your head into his chassis. His familiar scent of motor oil and fumes fills your senses and relaxes you deeper into him. You try to speak, to say anything other than hiccuping pathetically.

"I-" You stutter, ripping your face away from his chassis to stare up at him. A shaky hand reaches up to touch him, a tiny 'tink' as your fingernail grazes against his face plate. He's real, he's here, and he's not mad at you. And the best thing is, he forgives you.

And you forgive him.

"I missed you," You take a sharp breath, "I miss you so much."

Optimus' sombre frown turns into a small smile; a weight lifts off his frame at your admission. The worry he put himself through all seems to melt away as he presses a soft kiss to your lips, hoping to melt away your grief with the kiss along with his.

You gasp softly. Far too much time has passed since you've felt those gentle dermas meld into yours, and as much as the past you wanted to forget how his touches felt, you find yourself kissing him back with as much need and passion. A few fleeting moments pass before you're forced to part for a much-needed breath. It feels like life has returned to you, like after all this time without him you were holding your breath in fear of drowning.

Optimus closes his optics, softly pressing his forehead against yours, leaning into the warm touch of your hands that he oh so craved. He knows you still love him, he never once doubted that deep down inside you always did, even after he had regretfully abandoned you.

"I miss you too."

Finally. He felt good to say that.

#transformers #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus x human reader #x-reader #gn reader #angst #sfw #cyberrosewrites

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jinwoosungs · 9 hours

Text

{ 178 }

darling.

yandere!sung jinwoo x bi!fem.reader x yandere!cha hae-in

warnings: violence; ooc hae-in and jinwoo, i’m so sorry.

dedicated to @starzgaze

{ i want to ruin our friendship; we should be lovers instead. }

anonymous said: Helloo!! I don't know if you're willing to do a request but I was thinking an Jinwoo x reader x cha hae in since the reader is bisexual (I can't blame the reader if she's attracted to both of them Because I am too HUHU) although they don't know that they're crushes where Yanderes this whole time KABSKAKSJ :>

once you finished organizing all the reports for the chairman, you hear the older man thanking you for your time as he allowed you to go home for the rest of the day. you smile at chairman go gunhee, reassuring him that it was no trouble helping him at all as you stepped out of his office with a bounce in your step.

lately, the appearance of high leveled gates had become far and few in between. there seemed to be more peaceful days piling on as the hunters and healers alike were given little to do during such a time.

and the cause of this sudden decrease in raids?

a competition between the two most powerful guilds in all of seoul, korea-

the hunters guild vs ahjin guild.

despite being good friends with two of the most prominent members of each guild, (hae-in and jinwoo, respectively), you hadn’t the slightest clue why they were so competitive.

regardless of their reasoning, neither you or your fellow hunters and healers complained. after all, they were doing a great service, making all these gates disappear while restoring peace back to the entire nation within mere days.

as you were heading out of the association building, you felt the hairs stand up at the back of your neck. you had a strange sensation of being watched. your heart was felt pounding with anticipation… and before you could turn around to face whoever was watching you-

the sudden scent of vanilla fills your senses, feeling cha hae-in running up to you while letting out a soft coo of your name. “hello… i’ve missed you!”

her sudden affection and desire to be close to you was a bit out of character from how she usually was, you knew that as a fact. before you ever transferred to korea’s hunter association branch, she was known as being standoffish and aloof, never once getting close to civilians or other hunters since she had such a sensitive sense of smell.

you knew about her mana sensitivities and kept your distance from her out of respect the moment you transferred. however, it all changes when she actually came face to face with you. a dreamy expression would paint her features, and she would come closer to you, literally sniffing at your blouse when she giggles and says, “you smell so good… like sweet cinnamon rolls… just so sugary sweet…”

her comment about the scent of you and your mana makes you feel flustered as you simply thanked her, which was the moment she had proclaimed herself as your best friend.

hae-in giggles while deeply inhaling your scent, basking in it for a few moment before clinging to you. “hey, how about we have another slumber party! it’ll be my treat!”

“huh? hae-in, we had one just a few days ago… are you not tired of seeing me?”

“not at all! come on, the gates haven’t been appearing as much thanks to how well i have been doing, and i want to spend more time with you.” hae-in giggles while clinging to your arm.

you join her in her laughter, actually not minding having so many slumber parties with her since it was quite fun. whether it be having a movie marathon, or gaming with her while enjoying takeout and snacks, you liked spending time with her… maybe even as more than friends.

as you smile back at hae-in and ask about what she would like to get as takeout, you were unaware of the almost victorious expression on her face, her eyes glowing a bright golden hue as she sneered back at the hunter with startling, purple eyes filled with envy.

{ … }

sung jinwoo had tried to kill cha hae-in many times, seeing as though she were the sole threat when it came to obtaining your heart.

but unfortunately for him, the woman was persistent and powerful in her own ways. when she felt threatened, even feeling the tiniest chance of being ripped away from you-

that was when her claws were revealed to him.

he clutches the sharp dagger in his hand, knowing that if he just aimed the weapon slightly to his left, then he would be able to pierce through hae-in’s skull-

however, he did not wish to traumatize you.

it was ultimately the love he had for you that stops him from going through with his plans of killing hae-in right then and there-

you, being as innocent as ever, were completely unaware of the ongoing war he and hae-in shared. ever since he first caught sight of you, accidentally bumping into you as he helped you gather your belongings and get you back on your feet-

jinwoo knew that he was a goner.

he spent countless days and even hours following you, knowing that placing his soldiers within your shadow wouldn’t be enough for him.

(it was never enough for him.)

taking advantage of his powers, he made it his life’s mission to remain ever so close to you, doing all that he could to woo you with various gifts while taking you out on various dates-

however, she would always get in the way of him.

each time he purchases a nice bouquet for you, the next minute, he would find it sabotaged and ripped to shreds.

each time he would try to speak to you and ask you out on a date, hae-in would appear at the most inappropriate times and steal you away from him-

a feat that always manages to make his blood burn with hatred for cha hae-in.

he tried to get rid of her; tried numerous times to rip her heart out so that she could never breathe the same air as you ever again-

but he couldn’t do it.

the woman was far too strong-

and her love for you matched with his.

(a fact that he had to admit and accept in a rather begrudging manner.)

he hated how natural and easy it was for hae-in to get closer to you. being a naturally born woman meant that she was able to steal your attention under the guise of being your “sole best friend.”

whereas jinwoo had to use his shadow soldier’s eyes to watch you sleep-

that damn woman had the pleasure of sharing her bed with you each time she held a ‘sleepover.’ and jinwoo could feel such feelings of envy filling him to the brim as he had to bite down on his tongue to contain his rage, nearly tasting the coppery sensation of his blood from how close he was to biting his tongue off-

but he digressed.

despite all odds, sung jinwoo and cha hae-in were evenly matched-

and if he couldn’t obtain you by getting rid of her, then he’d just have to use the element of surprise…

{ … }

you were currently in hae-in’s apartment, laughing while telling stories with her as she began to paint your nails.

to be honest, she was awful at painting your nails, with each paint stroke of polish leaving an obvious streak against the skin surrounding your cuticles. when she finishes with applying the polish on your last nail, you had to fight back a giggle.

“ah, it seems as though i found the gorgeous and powerful hae-in’s weakness… nail polish.”

weak words of protests fall from her lips, but internally she was screaming with unbidden joy. you called her gorgeous! she’s gorgeous to you!

you continue to softly giggle and take her hand, not even bothering to wait for your own polished nails to dry as you slowly showed her how to paint nails in a more neater manner.

“okay, so always try to follow the curve at the end of your cuticles. it takes a lot of practice, but it’s so satisfying once such a perfect color is put on your nails!”

hae-in made tiny sounds of affirmation, seeming to give you random nods here and there. in all actuality, her face was darkened in a deep red hue, feeling ecstatic and on cloud 9 upon feeling your hand holding on to hers.

within just 20 or so minutes, you finished polishing hae-in’s nails, placing a top coat on it so that it could look shiny and dry faster. you admire your work for a few more minutes before letting her hand go-

only to feel your body being pushed against her mattress.

“eh…? hae-in?” your eyes go wide when hae-in looks down at you with glowing, golden eyes. she lets out a purr of your name all while framing at your face with her two hands.

“you know… we’ve been best friends for a while, right?” hae-in gently caresses at your features, her full lips inching ever so closely to you as you could feel her hot breath on your skin.

“ah, yes, we have…”

the gorgeous blond woman lets out a sigh before pressing a kiss against your cheek, an unexpected touch of affection that causes your heart to race uncontrollably in response.

your whisper of her name was filled with anticipation when hae-in leans closer to you. “best friends like you and i need to know each other’s tastes, right…? you would agree with such a sentiment… right my pretty little darling?”

“u-uhm…!” you couldn’t respond, your mind spinning as hae-in leaned closer and closer to your lips, ready to capture them as you clenched your eyes shut-

but the sensation of her kiss never came.

instead, all you felt was the way the air became much colder, causing you to open your eyes as a scream was heard coming from your parted lips.

a tall, looming shadow swiftly brings down a dagger against hae-in, but her senses were too sharp as she captures the weapon with her hand.

a flash of anger twists her beautiful face, her fury evident as she spat out his name “sung jinwoo, don’t you realize how close you were to hurting my darling girl?!”

“SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE HAD YOU STAYED IN PLACE!” jinwoo roars at hae-in, ripping her body away from you as he slams the woman down on the ground.

the polishes fall against the floors of hae-in’s bedroom in the midst of their scuffle, spilling various colors against the hardwood as it stains at them. your heart was racing, seeing the two most powerful hunters in all of existence fighting each other-

fighting for you.

fighting over you.

you kept seeing flashes of gold and purple clashing together, with jinwoo’s daggers trying to pierce at hae-in, yet she manages to parry each of his cuts with her sword.

you had to do something to stop this madness, but all you felt was an overwhelming sense of dread consuming you.

you adored basking in hae-in and jinwoo’s friendship, and you felt ashamed to admit it, but you developed feelings for both of them…

you never wished to lose either one of them, choosing instead to balance on the cusp of friendship and romance with them. it was hard, keeping them always at an arm’s length away-

and now, they were both going to kill each other-

you were going to lose them both if you didn’t do something now.

“jinwoo, hae-in, PLEASE STOP!”

the desperation was heard in your voice, and it echoes throughout the room. as if awakened from a trance, jinwoo and hae-in stopped their attacks on each other, eyes going dreamy as they moved away from each other. an almost longing sigh of your name was heard coming from them as they dropped their respective weapons and crawled toward you.

“oh no, my darling is afraid.”

“she’s so scared of losing me.”

“i love her, i need to comfort her and tell her that everything will be okay.”

“she’s so sweet and cute… i need to comfort her…”

your breathing becomes labored when jinwoo and hae-in both join you on the bed. they continue to whisper about their devotion to you, completely forgetting the fact that they had just tried to kill each other mere seconds before as they both surrounded you.

jinwoo places your body on top of his while wrapping his arms around your frame.

hae-in opts to remain behind you, practically sandwiching you between her and jinwoo as you shivered at feeling both of their bodies so close to you. unable to respond, you could only remain still when jinwoo and hae-in began littering your throat and neck with heated kisses, all while proclaiming their love for you.

rejoice, for you had captured the hearts of the two most powerful hunters in the world!

or perhaps… a warning for you would be more appropriate… since it will be difficult for you to escape from the intensity of their love unscathed…

a.n. - this is such a different story for me to write, but i figured i could pass time completing this story while waiting for my meeting. ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ currently unedited, but once it’s posted and my meeting is complete, i’ll go back and make any necessary changes. but for now, enjoy!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #cha hae-in x reader #hae-in cha x reader #cha hae-in x you #hae-in cha x you #solo leveling x reader #yandere x reader

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hwaslayer · 20 hours

Text

favorite things | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ favorite things - drabble one // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: yunho's been having a rough time adjusting to the 'real world' and gets upset when he can't have the person he needs the most right away.

words: 2.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy/insecurities, yuyu is upset and doesn't really know how to control his feelings rn cause he is just a tired boy 😭, a small lil fight, the awkward silent treatment, yuyu and yeo talk thru his feelings for a bit, kissing/making out, sorry if i missed anything i quickly whipped the rest of this in bed lol

a/n: whipped this baby up because i just felt the need to and i missed my babies!! (+ this lil IG inspo hehe) more drabbles to come 🫶🏼 love you in slow motion update this weekend annnnd i’m gonna have to push back the fallen angel hwa fic cause im all over the place 🥹 but we’ll do better!! lol stay tuned!!

Yunho has entered the real world and he is exhausted. When his mom used to joke about living and working in this so-called real world, he used to think it was just a thing to keep him on his toes, shake him up a little bit.

Nope, that shit was all real.

And he hates it.

He hates it because it's the one thing that brings another fight to the table for your relationship. Ultimately, Yunho knows all he has to do is adjust and he'll be fine in the long run. Both of you will be fine in the long run.

But today, that feels like a stretch and he is short of patience. Unusually short of patience than usual. He knows you don't mean any harm but for some odd reason, today he feels like the world is going to swallow him alive and everything is triggering.

The first thing is the fact that he has to stay a bit later than usual to finish up a project he had been working on. He was hoping to rush home and spend some time with you before you were off to practice for the evening, spending 2-3 hours with your friends and the group.

That didn't happen.

So, when he gets home and you've already texted him saying you've left with a sad, crying face, he's bummed. He gets himself comfortable anyway, heating up a cup of ramen since he's not too hungry. Maybe he'll get some food with you when you're out— it's one of his favorite things to do.

Now, the second thing that makes him a little more irked is the fact that 2-3 hours go by and you haven't texted. He knows practice can run long, but it's also a little unusual for you to not keep him updated. You finally do a bit past 8pm with a quick:

you: hi baby, sorry! practice was a bit busy, i was caught up during breaks. i'll be home soon then i'll come over after i shower, okay? wait for me (: we should go on a food run! hehe

yunho: sounds good, love. i'll be here.

It closes to 9pm and Yunho isn't hungry anymore. The cup of ramen will do since there seems to be a dim chance of getting food with you, especially when you tell him you'll be over in a quick second but you’re still nowhere to be found. Yunho charges to the door anyway and is hoping to greet you when he swings the door open. Instead, he's greeted with you laughing and giggling with Hyunjin downstairs in the lot as he hands you a bag of to-go food.

Let's set the record straight— Yunho loves your friends. He knows he can trust them, and he knows they're all genuinely good people. He's always been happy you had a good group of people around you.

It's just today, he really, really missed you. After a long ass day. And he knows you [and Hyunjin] mean no harm in your actions, but he can't help but feel a tad bit insecure [and slightly jealous] that you aren't rushing over to see him after not being with him all day. He knows he can blame this on the fact that he's exhausted and a little short on patience. God knows he really did try to keep it cool and brush it off.

He couldn't help it.

Yunho shuts the door again, leaving it unlocked for whenever you feel ready to come upstairs and hang out with him. He sits on his computer chair, irritated, and throws on a game to distract himself momentarily. Maybe it'll help ease whatever he's feeling,

But, nope.

It doesn't.

Because when you walk in, you're still yelling out to Hyunjin and whoever before you shut the door, place the food on the counter and walk into his room. You throw your arms around him from behind and Yunho lets out a small, audible sigh. That was already alarming enough for you, but you still dip your head to the side and try to grab his attention.

"Hi." You place a quick, chaste quick to his cheek, but Yunho doesn't move.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Is all he says plainly. "I was just waiting for you."

"I know, but Hyunjin stopped by to give us food—"

"I thought we were gonna grab food together?"

"Oh." You frown because it completely slipped your mind, or else, you would've left the food at your own apartment to save it for tomorrow instead. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think he was gonna swing by with food. We all left each other earlier without any plans of—"

"It's okay." He taps your arms as a signal for you to let go of him. "You should go eat."

"We can share, there's more than enough—"

"All good." It's petty of Yunho, he knows. For him, it's the fact that you told him you wanted to go on a food run after practice. Another small, but meaningful thing you two did often. He doesn't blame Hyunjin for anything at all, no. There was no way of preventing that, and who the fuck was he to make you reject food from a friend?

He just wished he could take you to get food. Watch you order your favorites and do your happy dance in his passenger's seat. It's another one of his favorite things.

"Yunho." You slowly step aside and sit on his bed, your appetite all of a sudden gone from how distant your boyfriend is being. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's fine."

"Is it really? Because something feels off and I wanna know what I did so I can fix it."

"It's nothing, Y/N." You almost flinch at the way he calls you your name instead of his cute endearing nicknames. It throws you off guard so much that you resort to a flimsy, broken:

"Okay." It's barely above a whisper. You stand to head back out to the kitchen, quietly eating a bit of Hyunjin's extra to-go thai food before setting some aside in a tupperware for Yunho and placing it in the fridge. The rest of the night goes.. like that.

In silence. With weird tension.

You hate it.

You wish you could just fix whatever you did wrong, or that Yunho would tell you no matter how 'silly' it may sound. He's always been so good with communicating, even during small disagreements, you weren't sure why he was avoiding it this time around.

You quietly get ready for bed, brushing your teeth and flossing before changing out of your sweats and hoodie to Yunho's shirt. You pad into the room, slipping yourself deep under the sheets and pull up some vlogs on Youtube that you need to catch up on.

"Tired?" Yunho asks from his computer chair, still playing his game.

"Mhm." You look at him, hoping he'd come over to kiss you, cuddle you. Shut off the computer and lay next to you, show you any kind of affection. He doesn't budge, though. You feel your bottom lip trembling, your heart slowly cracking in various places. You have to take a breath to prevent yourself from crying, and Yunho can feel it. He can feel your gaze on him, he can tell you're seconds away from crying. So, Yunho stands and shuts off his computer. But, he starts to head out to the living room and you're on the verge of breaking down. His way of avoiding the issue and getting more upset was to shut down. Deflect.

This wasn't like Yunho at all so you knew something was wrong; something was that bothersome to him.

"Baby." You call for him softly, and he just looks at you. You can tell he's conflicted between keeping this up and dropping it entirely, but it doesn't seem to be enough. It's not enough for him to drop it because his expression doesn't change. He still seems cold, distant. Tired. Unlike the Yunho you're so, so used to seeing and having.

"I'm just tired. Go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"The living room."

"Let me come with you."

"Y/N. Please go to sleep. I told you nothing was wrong." You watch the way his jaw slightly ticks before brushing you off completely and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. A loud sigh escapes his lips as he treads to the couch and plops onto it, leaning his head back onto the edge. He shuts his eyes, giving himself some time to sort through his feelings because what the fuck, Jeong Yunho?

He knows this is much needed, though. He needed to step away for a second to regroup. He doesn't want to unintentionally hurt you by saying or doing things that he doesn't mean. He's tired, and he's acting like a fucking baby because he just wanted you at so many points today— yet, the universe just didn't let him have you. That wasn't your fault.

None of this was your fault.

He needed to do better. Just because he was exhausted, didn't mean he had to act this way towards you.

"Yo." Yeosang walks through the door, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he steps out of his shoes. "You good?" He furrows his brows at the sight of Yunho just resting his head back with his eyes shut close.

"Mhm."

"Where's Y/N?"

"In the room." Odd, Yeosang thinks. It's not like you two to be separated like this. It's pretty obvious Yunho is bothered by something and that you've probably gotten into a small fight over it. Yeosang isn't one to meddle much, especially when it's not his business to. But, he is concerned seeing his roommate like this. It's probably one of the rare times he ever sees Yunho upset.

"You sure everything's okay? I'm not really used to seeing you sitting out in the living room in silence like this." Yunho lets out a tiny chuckle that's barely audible, but he finally turns to Yeosang and purses his lips.

"I guess. Just exhausted lately."

"I bet. You've been working your ass off." Yeosang looks into the fridge before stepping away with a cold water bottle and heading towards Yunho. "Y/N put some food in there for you, by the way."

"Did she?"

"Yeah. It has a little sticky note on top." Of course you did, why wouldn’t you? You always thought about Yunho no matter what.

"Fuck."

"What?"'

"I've been such a dick to her tonight."

"What'd you do?"

"It's so stupid." Yunho begins to explain how his day has just been all over the place— from work, to staying late and not being able to see you before practice, no updates until 3+ hours after practice, looking forward to a food run that didn't end up happening because of Hyunjin. All Yeosang can do is laugh a bit and shake his head.

"Dude, we all have bad days. It's inevitable. You're still adjusting so don't be so hard on yourself. It's hard going from a routine you were so used to, especially with Y/N. Then, having to switch it up and play tetris with your time. It's not easy. But also, I'm sure Y/N has been feeling the same way. She's just doing what she can to support you first and foremost. She'd never hurt you intentionally, and I know she'd always choose you in the end." Yunho's head drops as he leans onto his knees and sighs again.

"Fuck, you're right. I don't know why today was so difficult. I guess it all piled on for me and I didn't know how to sort through it."

"All good. Shit happens." Yeosang shrugs. "Anyway. I'm gonna head to bed. You should probably do the same. I know she's probably waiting for you."

"Thanks." Yeo gives him a little dap before he's off to get comfy and end his day. Yunho stays on the couch for a few more minutes before he brushes his teeth and washes up for bed. He stands in the bathroom for a few more seconds before gaining the courage to finally talk to you about everything that's been going on today. When he walks in, you're still bundled under the sheets, but your phone is against the wall and a video is playing. He can hear you sniffling through the video though, and he knows you've been crying.

God dammit, Yunho.

"Baby?" You hear Yunho softly call your name as he slips into bed and wraps his arms around you.

"Mhm?" You respond, still facing away from him.

"Can we talk?" You sigh and exit the video, locking your phone before turning towards Yunho and setting your phone onto the table.

"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready to."

"I am, and I'm sorry." He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes and it instantly feels like you have your loving, incredibly sweet and attentive boyfriend back.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know. To be honest, I don't have that great of an explanation. I was just tired and I was really looking forward to seeing you before practice. I couldn't see you then because of work, so I was even more excited to see you after practice and to go on our run together. But, you came later and the whole thing with Hyunjin—" He pauses and shakes his head. "It was so stupid and childish of me. I didn't need to act that way, and I'm so sorry I was such a dick to you over that." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb.

"You should've just told me, babe."

"It's so dumb, though?" He furrows his brows, mainly at himself.

"Nothing is dumb. Whatever hurts you, hurts me. We're in this together, remember? We're on the same team. I just need you to communicate and be honest, like you always tell me. Okay? I'll do anything to fix it and make it better. I'm your safe space like you are mine."

"I know." He leans into your touch before placing a soft kiss to your palm. "I'll do better."

"We have our bad days and that's okay. It won't make me love you any less. Tell me if you need space or if you need anything from me. I want you to be happy and comfortable."

"I know."

"Okay. And I'm sorry about the food run. I promise I'll keep my end of it next time."

"Wasn't your fault, baby. Nothing could have prevented that." You give him a tiny, toothless smile before kissing the tip of his nose.

"Are we okay?" He nods.

"I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeats before leaning in to peck you on the lips. He holds the kiss before parting and looking you in the eye, brushing the hair away from your face. He dips in for another kiss— this time, it's deeper. More passionate. His hand comes down to the small of your back as he presses against you, slipping his tongue in to fight for dominance against yours. The kiss is so full of love and neediness, but there's no push or pressure to make anything out of it.

So, Yunho continues to kiss you. Pushing up against you ever so slightly while parting from your lips to leave a trail across your jaw.

Your chin.

Your neck.

Back up to your lips.

He loves the way you softly sigh in content, listening to him repeatedly whisper 'I love you' against your lips. Into your neck. Across your jaw. He loves the way you gently bite onto his bottom lip as a way of asking for more. He loves the way your fingers tug on the ends of his hair, the way you press your lips against his cheek, forehead, nose. The way you caress his cheeks and never let him go.

It's amongst the many on his list of favorite things.

He continues to coo you and praise you in between kisses throughout the night, smiling while hearing your giggles and smothering you with more kisses until you find yourself getting sleepy. He holds you close and sings a soft lullaby, playing with your hair as you drift off to sleep with the cutest smile on your face. He can’t help but admire you, fighting the exhaustion that’s been hitting him all week for a little longer. He fights it until he can’t anymore but fuck it, it’s all worth it.

Because sitting at the very top of his favorites list is you.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

#yunho fanfic #yunho series #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez series #ateez x reader #ateez #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez imagines #kpop imagines #yunho fluff #jeong yunho fluff #hwaslayer: project make you love me

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calaisreno · 2 days

Text

Bottles

Note: I have two stories today because I couldn't make up my mind.

This one is sad (alcoholism, Sad John, Not Dead Sherlock, reunion, reconciliation, rehab. No MCD). The next one (Imagine) is much happier.

887 words / Prompt: Empty

He’s forgotten where he lives.

He hasn’t forgotten the little house in Clapham where his bed is, but as usual, his feet have taken him to Baker Street. That only happens when he’s been drinking. Well, it happens all the time these days.

Pockets, pockets. He still has a key, but he can’t find it.

“Lost it,” he says to himself. This seems true, and certainly describes his entire life these days. Since. After.

Lost it. He’s lost it.

It’s cold, almost November. Maybe it is November. If he closes his eyes— he does— he remembers another November. Back. Before.

Maybe he doesn’t have a bed now. He doesn’t have a job, so it’s quite possible that the house he remembers, the one with the bed and his clothes and a telly that doesn’t work, maybe that’s gone too. All his stuff, gone.

Sherlock gone.

He’ll cry if he thinks about that.

He’s already is crying.

The ground is suddenly closer than he thought. That’s because he’s sitting on the kerb outside 221B Baker Street. His face is wet and the ground is cold and he doesn’t have a place to sleep and all his stuff is gone.

“Why did you die?” If he were sober, he’d just ask inside of his head, and the Sherlock that lives there would say something cryptic.

You’re worried they’re right.

Heroes don’t exist.

Alone protects me.

It’s my note.

Mind Palace Sherlock. No, John has never had a Mind Palace. Nothing so grand. He doesn’t have a palace, not even one tiny bedsit now.

If he went home, if he had a home, he could sit in his chair and close his eyes and pretend Sherlock didn’t die.

He pulls the bottle out of his pocket. Nearly empty. He could drink it all in one swallow.

No, he already has.

The bottle clinks on the pavement. He tries to be careful when he puts them in the recycling bin, not let them clink against one another. That sound bothers him, shames him that there are so many.

Ashamed, he sits on the kerb, his feet in the road. Maybe he should just lie down in the road. Nobody would be surprised if he died that way. Better than a bullet. Better than drinking himself to death.

Rising to his feet, he sways. It’s a bad idea, standing up, but he wants to lie in the middle of the road and go to sleep. And never wake up.

He grasps at the air, trying to regain his balance, and finds he’s leaning against a car. A black car. The door opens and someone gets out.

Well, this will be embarrassing. For both of us.

Mycroft doesn’t pick up drunks. When necessary, he has people who do that for him. People who do his dirty work, clean up the vomit and wipe the blood off the upholstery.

No, they’re not getting into the car. The dirty work bloke is carrying him towards the door. And there’s Mycroft with the key, opening it.

“I’ve got you, John,” the dirty work bloke says. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”

He smells so familiar. That coat. “Sherlock,” he whispers. “Don’t be dead.”

He’s floating up. Up, up. It feels nice. The way home used to feel.

So gently, he’s laid down in a bed. A hand strokes his hair. “John.”

He’s crying. “Stop being dead.”

“Hush, John. I’m not dead. Remember? I came back.”

“But… but.” He’s not in the street. Clue: no cars. Soft. Warm. Ah, bed.

Someone is putting a pillow behind his head. It’s nice.

“John, sit up and have some water.”

“I got married,” he announces. “Did I get married?”

“You did.”

It’s the voice he remembers, the one that gives him shivers. “Am I dead?”

“No, you’re not.” A hand on his hair. “Hush, you’re safe. Rest now.”

In the other room, they’re talking softly to one another.

“How many times, Sherlock? He needs medical care. Rehab.”

“No, Mycroft. No hospitals. I’ll take care of him. Molly’s got Rosie for now, and Harry’s coming tomorrow.”

“Don’t be selfish, Sherlock. Are you sure this is what he’d want?”

Their voices are quieter now, further away.

“I have to fix this. I want to.”

“Well, then. I’ll leave you to it. Call me.”

In the silence, he drifts. He and Sherlock were in a pub, he thinks.

No, they were playing a game. I’m you, aren’t I?

He’s chasing a hound through the mist…

Sherlock is standing on the roof...

A gunshot, and he runs… don’t be dead…

Stay with me…

Goodbye, John…

He sobs. “Why are you still dead? I asked you to come back.”

He feels himself gathered into strong arms. “I heard you. I’m here.”

“Every time you say that, you leave me. Every time, you’re dead.”

He touches the face he loves. His fingers come away wet. Sherlock is crying.

“Please, John. You have to stop this. Stay with me, please.”

I’m not the one who leaves, he thinks. I’m the one who’s alone.

“All right.” Sighing, he leans into the vision. They’re standing under a starry sky, and it’s beautiful. Sherlock is beautiful.

“I love you,” he says, smiling up at him. “Always meant to say. I love you.”

Sherlock kisses him “I love you too. Stay with me.”

Please read the next one too! Imagine. A 1024-word fixit for Series 3-4.

#mayprompts2024

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