#the second i feel too insecure in the situation i'm OUT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months

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déjà vu

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.

bnha chap. 362 n 403 spoilers ! childhood friends to lovers can you tell i'm inlove with this trope oooorrr…, angsty?? bittersweet hurt/comfort ?? fem reader, reader's height isn't specified but is shorter than katsuki's, reader gets a bit insecure but katsuki fixes that up rq, reader is very mushy n inlove with katsuki, (but aren't we all) katsuki loves reader very much in return

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks about primary school. you’re both ten, double digits. foolishly believing you were all grown up. katsuki’s fingers are white and dry from cleaning up the chalkboard, since you guys were tasked for clean up duty today.

or at least, you were. but your classmate suddenly vanished without a word and katsuki, as nice and helpful as he was (to you, at least) decided to stay behind to help you, don’t ask him where your cleaning buddy went, he has absolutely no idea and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

“ y’know—” he starts, soaking the soggy sponge into the water bucket next to him, then squeezing it out. “when we’re done with this stupid school stuff, i’ll go pro.” he states, slapping the sponge onto the board, creating a loud splat noise.

you, having heard this time and time before, simply look at him and smile, placing your classmates chairs on top of their desks row by row “mhm, i know !” you grin “ 'n you’ll be number one, right ?” you’re standing in between two desks, hands playing with your uniform skirt behind your back.

“hell yeah i will !” katsuki boasts, smirking. he scrubs at the board a little more vigorously.

“bad word !” you tease, giggling as you point at him “ 'm gonna tell miss you said a cuss word again !”

he huffs, turning around to scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out at you, you stick yours out back playfully. “as if i care ! yer too much of a wuss to snitch on me anyways.”

“no I’m not, i’ll do it right now !” katsuki rolls his red eyes at you, returning to his task and wiping the board down in a zig zag motion. “ i don’t care” he reiterates.

you pout at his back and just then get an idea you’re sure will piss him off, a cat like grin pulls at your lips.

“okaaayy … then i’ll just tell your mom !” you sing, bursting into giggles when he swiftly turns around and waves the wet sponge in your direction. he’s too far to reach you but you dodge anyway, just to mess with him.

“no you won’t.”

“yeah, i will !” you counter, blowing a raspberry at him. you both break out into a fit of giggles when he aggressively dips the sponge into the water and flicks the droplets at you once more, before he decides to close the distance and chase you around your cramped little classroom growling and screaming, threatening you with the dirty sponge.

you’re squealing and giggling and laughing, trying to fend him off with a broom and even then, at ten. then when the concept of cherishing memories of the time you spend together wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind, katsuki remembers wishing he could stay with you like this forever.

when you’re both out of breath the classroom is just as messy—if not messier than it usually is. you give eachother a look then belly laugh some more.

you’re picking up chairs again and katsuki’s helping you, so it goes even faster. you don’t wanna go home because you won’t be seeing him anymore, but you have to admit your eager to finish and leave school.

katsuki’s back is to you on the second row and he can’t see you looking at him from the back row, he decides it’s time he says what he wanted to say before you got distracted. he clutches the legs of the chair he’s holding a little tighter.

“hey,” his voice comes suddenly in the quiet, it surprises you a little, you hum in response “ 'm really gonna go pro when we’re done with school, y’know.” he insisted.

you tilt your head wearily, looking at him with his back still turned to you. “yeah, i know.” you respond “you said that already.” you’re confused, he can’t hear the scrapping noise of the wooden chairs anymore, it’s annoyingly too quiet now.

“ you’re coming with me” he pauses, turning to you a little so you catch a peak of his quickly reddening face. it sounds like a statement but even then you know better. you don’t miss a beat, nodding furiously “uhuh, always !” his cheeks flare up more as he turns fully towards you. he walks over until the only thing separating you is the desk in between. he turns his back to you again to lean against the desk seperating you both.

“you’ll be with me, and we’ll be pro's together” he maintained. he feels his chest tighten when you offer him more of your pretty bright smiles and nods, you smile at him the way he knows you don’t with the other boys in class who are stupid enough to think they deserve even a second of your time and it makes him feel a little bit more confident as he speaks more clearly “a-and I’ll be number one, and you’ll be number two. but not behind me, with me, yknow ?” he feels stupid for having to explain himself but you don’t mind, as long as you can stay with katsuki you don’t mind which number you are. you move across the table so you can stand next to him. you nod and he let's out a little huff and a smile starts pulling at his mouth.

"a-and" he gulps " 'n then—i'll marry you."

it's quiet for just moment.

and then you register what he said and feel your entire body heat up.

"w-wha ?! " you sputter "marry me ?!" your wide eyes startle him as he glances at you but refuses to look over again. he's red to the tips of his ears, pulling at the bottom of his now longer tucked in shirt. despite the growing lump in his throat, he nods.

"mhm," he kicks at an eraser laying on the floor, the only noise heard coming from it hitting a wall a little further. you don't see where, you're still looking at him. " my ma says i can't do it now, since it's...illegal, or something." he scoffs dissaprovingly "b-but..when 'm older," he sucks in a breath, then suddenly turns to you causing you to sit up straighter in suprise, you feel your hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter as your face feels more and more on fire. "when i'm older—i'll do it. that way, none of those other losers will look at you."

he looks way more flustered than you but he's sitting up straight still, eyes determined and unwavering and it knocks the wind out of you, because for as long as you can remember katsuki's been the coolest.

there's absolutely no doubt in your mind he's embarrassed. if his face wasn't a dead give away, his posture and demeanor give it away just as much. you've known him for a long time now, since you were 6 years old and he had walked up to you. little newbie you, who had transferred in the middle of the school year and with nobody to play with. he was there, head held high with his friends in tow behind him, demanding to know what your quirk was and the rest was history.

katsuki persists even when he knows the odds are low, he perseveres and keeps kicking and punching and blowing up everything in his path where anyone else would've given up while they had the chance. like when he fought against those 4th graders while you were all still only in 2nd grade. his face was all messed up and he had a nosebleed, but he ended up winning. because he swore he would keep winning.

'cus that's what heroes do.'

katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'd win. even here, when he isn't fighting, instead confessing to you. he's red-faced, embarrassed out of his mind and nervous, but his shoulders are squared and there's no doubt in his eyes after he had just told you he would marry you. when he thought about being older, he thought about you being there with him.

and even after what you'd heard all you can think is that your katsuki is so cool.

so with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty little cramped classroom, you give him your response.

"mhm ! "

katsuki thinks about his last year of middle school.

today's the last day of your middle school life before you go off to high school and katsuki couldn't be happier to leave this shitty school. he's 15 now. older, but besides his features, remained the same (to you, at least) .

it's your last day and you finish it off with cleaning duty, ironically, and he remembers that day back in elementary. then proceeds to shake it off, hoping to shake off the embarrassing memories. but it doesn't seem to work because it feels like the universe is seriously fucking with him.

you're the one tasked with cleaning duty again and with your cleaning buddy, yet again, being nowhere to be found. katsuki yet again staying behind to help you out. and again, katsuki has absolutely no idea where your buddy went and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

it shouldn't be anything new, he stays and helps, albeit begrudingly, every time you have cleaning duty. but it feels different somehow. katsuki chalks it up to it being the end of the year.

the only difference from last time is you actually finish in record time. usually, that would've been great news, less time at school and even more free time katsuki can spend with you.

but you're quiet today.

you usually chat his ear off, and just because it's you, he chat's right back. wether you're messing around teasing each other or just talking about your day at school or who's house you're staying over at for the afternoon and which movie you're watching, you're always talking about something. it's comforting where he'd usually think it to be annoying with anyone else. but they aren't you.

and he doesn't like it.

when you finish you reach for your bag sitting neatly on top of your desk but katsuki stops you, grabbing your wrist. the feel of your soft skin has him involentarily flushing lightly, he ignores it in favor of squeezing your wrist when you don't immediately look back at him.

"what's up with you ?" he questioned gruffly. it comes out harsh, but that's not what you hear. you've known katsuki for a long time, after all. he's worried, you can tell. his words are rough around the edges but his eyes are soft, filled with care and the soft stroke of his thumb against you skin sends slight shivers down your spine when you turn to look at him shyly.

you open your mouth to deny him, but he can practically read your mind "don't give me that 'nothinngg' bullshit" your nose scrunches at the way his voice raises in pitch as he crudely mimicks you and a little smirk pulls at his face for only a moment before it falls again " don't go lyin' to me. know i hate that shit" he rasped.

you sigh, he's known you just as long as you'd known him after all.

you lean against your desk and he copies you, your shoulders brushing as he scoots himself a little closer to you. you jump up a little to sit on your desk, you're the same height as him like this. he scoots a little closer and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your desk to lean on it, fingers inches away from yours.

"i just—" you faltered "this our last day of school. when the day is over we'll be high schoolers." you stated. katsuki scoffs jokingly and leans a bit closer to you "what ? you tellin' me youre gonna miss this dump ? last i heard, you were the first one who wanted to leave so you wouldn't have to deal with mr. nakamura anymore." he jests, trying to lighten the mood as best he could, the worry in his eyes still shining bright. a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you huff out a little giggle.

"yeah well, i won't be missing mr. nakamura. or his stupid tests" you pretend to shiver as you cringe "at all." katsuki let's out a cute chuckle. he's like a magnet, you feel yourself scooting closer to where he's leaning next to you, like you're being pulled closer to him, you don't mind. you never mind being close to katsuki.

"but..?" he coaxed, knowing that wasn't all you wanted to say.

"but.." you continue "but i'll miss this, yknow ? like—the school itself wasn't..the best" katsuki scoffs in response but doesn't interrupt "the teachers weren't either. but—i dunno—this. being here." you confess, you stare down at your shoes as you kicks your legs aimlessly into the air " we've spent such a long time here, and now we're leaving. we went from being the youngest—to the oldest, to going back to being the youngest again, and that in itself isn't the problem.."

"then what is ?" he raises a brow.

"we're gonna be in a completely different school, with completely different people—"

"but we'll be together." he interrupts "you said you wanted to go to ua too" you said you were gonna stay with me is what he wants to say, but it's childish and that wouldn't be fair to you.

"of course, i still do !" you reassure "but—there'll be tons of new, strong, cool people at ua.."

"maybe even stronger and cooler than me.." you trail off. you don't need to say more for katsuki to understand what you mean and it pissed him off.

"shut up." he growls.

"katsuki—"

"no. shut the fuck up." he's right in front of you before you can blink. you reflexively part your legs and he takes the opportunity to stand even closer to you, right in your space. you feels your cheeks warm at the proximity, your close enough to see it's apparently affecting him too, his cheeks turning a cute pink but as stubborn as your katsuki is he doesn't budge. as usual.

you don't exactly know what you and katsuki are. you know you like him, you know you have for a long time. and you'd like to believe he likes you too. he doesn't act the way he does with you the way he does with his other friends (or his lackeys as he calls them, you're the only one he openly calls his friend) but he doesn't really have anyone close to him besides you, so you don't know if he'd act this way with someone else.

the thought leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, so you decide to focus on something else. something else being katsuki, of course, he's all up in your space. his gaze not allowing you to look or even think about anything else but him.

"who i meet at ua doesn't fuckin' matter, they'll all be weaksauce compared to me anyway" he states smugly, causing you to huff out a laugh again " i don't care if theyre cool, or strong" his nose scrunches up in disgust as he quips venomously "i don't care about any of that—and i don't hang out with you because of that either—i fuckin' care about you because you're you."

your heart stutters.

" what, you think i hang out witcha because of superficial shit like that ? you mockin' me or something ?"

"no, no course not !" you insist, shaking your head.

" exactly, so don't..." he huffs, looking away from you towards the ground, there's a random eraser lying on the ground and he kicks it "don't go saying dumb shit like that."

"i don't waste my time with just anyone, 's why i'm wastin' it with your ass" he jokes, chuckling when you squeeze his nose in response. supressing a smile you whine at him when he leans forward to bite yours.

"katsuki, you're gross !" you giggle as you push at his face, he smiles lightly at the sound of your laughter, one of his favorite sounds. "ya started it." he disputes weakly, his smile turning into a smirk when you groan and then it falls again as he looks at you seriously.

" but seriously" he starts "i mean it, y'know. don't just say shit to say it"

"i know" you smile. he grunts in acknowledgement then continues.

"i don't care about how cool those future ua asshats are gonna be. you're different, you're not like that—i mean—that's not what i look at—what i see with you" he fumbles around for his words and groans, slamming his forehead against your shoulder. you're used to katsuki being physical, but that was usually when he was being annoying, pinching and prodding and biting at you. he's rarely ever this affectionate. it's different, but nice..really nice, so you savor it while you can. your fingers twitch a little closer to his and you decide to take a leap of faith, placing your hands ontop of his. he flinches and you're about to pull back when he grips your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you feel him huff into your uniform. his hair tickles as he shuffles his head deeper inside your shoulder.

"you're not like those other losers, y'not like anyone" he explains "you're—when you're around it's like you're glowing. you're bright and when you talk, everyone sorta—gets pulled towards you like you're some typa magnet" his hands get warmer against yours as he speaks. you're surprised that he sees you this way, when that's practically the same way you see him.

" you pull people in so easily, and it pisses me off that you don't realise it. you are strong, and cool and everything else but that's not all you are. s'not all i care about."

"you're annoying. and whiney. extremely annoying, actually" he chuckles, and you pull at his ear "but—" he continues "but you're..fun to be around or whatever, wouldn't be around you otherwise. you're too fuckin' nice and your taste in music isn't bad" katsuki grumbles.

he wants to say more, so much more. he wants to say he thinks the way you immerse yourself when you're watching a movie together is adorable. the way you hold yourself back from commenting during the movie so as not to be annoying, even thought he could listen to you naming street signs and never get bored. the way your eyes light up when you get your grade back for a test you had studied your ass off for, when you come to him showing off your hard work it makes him want to hold you and never let go. he wants to say the way you're not scared to banter and bicker with him, the way your nose scrunches up when you try to hold in your laughter when he passes you a crudely drawn picture of your homeroom teacher, the way you smile at him whenever you see him, whenever he shares his umbrella or your lunches even though you have your own and he has his, makes him want to kiss you silly.

he wants to say all this and more, but he knows the words won't come out right, they never do. but somehow you understand and it's another thing he admires—that he loves about you.

"i...didn't know you felt that way" is all you can quietly muster up. you're cute, he feels you squeezing his hands a little tighter " yeah you didn't, cus i didn't tell you" he ribbed. you huff out a 'dont be annoying" gruffly and he chuckles. the asshole.

your asshole, though, your heart decides.

you're both quiet, everything is quiet and you're happy, reassured. you'd be happy if this is where the conversation ended but katsuki never fails to surprise you today it seemed.

" 'sides" he squeezes your hands tighter "i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ? how can i do that if i'm not around you, hah ?"

you're heart skips approximately three beats at the memory of his promise and you lean back to look at his fully red cheeks and his fleeing eyes.

"you still remember that ?" you ask incredulously. he rolls his eyes but you can tell it's simply to save face as he responds " of course i do. wasn't that long ago."

"but—we were like—ten when that happened. "

"so ?" he responds simply "doesn't change nothin'. i told you, i don't say shit to just say it."

you're flustered and so utterly confused, but there's a happy feeling bubbling in your stomach at his words " but we're not even dating !"

"we're not ?" of course not , he knows he hadn't properly asked you to be his girlfriend. but he figured if he talked about the memory that seemed to refuse being pushed aside, he could casually sneak by what he was too embarrassed to ask. but of course, you never make it easy for him.

"no, we aren't" you pout, crossing your arms at him. he grumbles, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest but you're stubborn, he was right about you being extremely annoying. "cut that out," he hissed.

"mm-mm ! " you shake your head "you can't just decide we're together. i didn't even know you liked me like that.." you trail off shyly. katsuki looks utterly baffled "hah?! whaddya mean you didn't know ? you don't see me actin' like this with anyone else do you ?"

"that's cus you're mean to everyone else !" you choked out, puffing your cheeks out at him.

"well yeah ! but—that's the thing, i'm not mean to you !" he defends, faltering when you raise a brow at him "fuck off, m'not that mean ! i'm just messing with you !" he rebutted. you simply roll your eyes at him and after a moment he sighs.

"fine" he concedes "i should've told you i liked you, i don't just decide that i want you to be my girlfriend when it's convenient for me or something" he keeps quiet about how you could of also told him you liked him as well for now, for fear of you getting moody at him again.

you still look away from him and he groans "hey c'mon, look at me." he utters sincerely. after a minute, you offer him a glance and he takes his opportunity, turning your face towards him, holding back a grin when he feels how warm your cheeks are.

"do you...wanna be my girlfriend ?" he stammers, looking at you with his red cheeks and bashful red eyes, and yet his gaze doesn't falter.

so cool.

it's your last day of middle school, your last day before you go off to a different school with different people. but with your katsuki by your side, and that's all that matters to you.

and with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty classroom, you give him your response by pressing your lips to his softly.

katsuki thinks about the night before today, when you'd knocked at his door in the dead of night.

usually, on any other day, he'd have scolded you for being up so late but would've ended up letting you in anyway. but lately, things hadn't been as they had been before..everything happened. and he could tell you were upset, so he simply let you in without a word.

you take the liberty of laying down in his bed like you used to back at his house and back at the dorms. he doesn't mind. it feels familiar, comforting.

he lies down next to you and you immediately latch onto him, seeking his warmth. with your head in his chest, you hold onto him tightly, like he'll dissapear if you don't. he clings to you just as tightly.

"what's up with you ?" he mumbles sleepily, softer than when he would've if he were more awake, but still focusing all of his attention onto you.

he feels you shake against his chest "jus' wanted to be wif you" he hears you mumbles. he presses his lips to the top of your head, pressing a sweet little kiss onto it as you breathe "you know that's bullshit." he reprimands, he feels you squeeze him tighter. he squeezes your waist twice, his warm hands running up and down your sides "c'mon, talk to me" he prodded

you look up at him and he looks down at you. your eyes are glossy, he can tell even in the dark and he's sure you were crying a little. his theory is confirmed when he hears you let out a little sniffle, his heart breaks at the sound. his heart breaks even more when you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping at the front of his shirt.

"baby," he pleads softly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mouth and cheeks when you whine. "tell me what's bothering you, yeah ?"

"m'just—you're gonna be fighting tomorrow, and we all are and i know you're strong but you'll be in the front lines against him" you blubbered, you hiccup as tears roll down your cheeks " and i know you're strong. but katsu, i can't—" you gasp. he shushes you softly, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips. he knows what you're gonna say, he knows you're worried. he's known you for so long after all.

he hated himself the day he woke up after the first war. when he woke up to you crying at his side, with you yourself still being injured. he hates how much he worried you that day and he knows that the fleeting glances you give him whenever you have a briefing with the pro's, the way you stare off at nothing whenever you catch a glimpse of his scars, are all out of worry for him. he did the same after he had found out you had also been heavily injured during the brawl, so he can't say he wouldn't do the same way.

"baby, babe—look at me" he intones softly, grabbing onto your tear stained cheeks to get you to look at him, he's close so he's sure you can see him despite the darkness. he can't help pressing another kiss to your lips " nothing's gonna happen, okay ?" he reassures, rubbing your cheek softly.

"i can't see you like that again, katsuki. i just can't" you whimper, leaning into his hand.

"you won't, promise you won't." he vows. he knows you're even more worried because you'll both be in different areas and he hates he won't be able to keep his eye on you. but you're strong and cool and everything else, so he trusts you'll be okay "i need you to trust me"

"i do" you sniffle, taking a deep breath "i do trust you, but i just—don't wanna see you get hurt, kacchan"

he sighs softly, staring at you lovingly as he pulls you towards his chest. you nuzzle against him and he presses his mouth to the side of your head. "i can't promise i won't be gettin' hurt, s'gonna happen on the job" he says carefully, rubbing your back "but i promise i'll always come back to you. no matter how fucked up i get, i'll win. for you." he declares, feeling you shove your head deeper against his shoulder.

you remember how despite getting extremely injured by shigaraki, he recovered in record time. it seemed nothing could stop your boyfriend from proving to the world he was the best. because katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. because to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'll win.

and despite the worry and the fear gnawing at you, you can't help but think your katsuki is so fucking cool.

so you nod against his shoulder and he feels the collar of his shirt grow wet, but he doesn't mind as your grip on him loosens lightly until you can feel yourself falling asleep.

before you fall though, you hear katsuki speak.

"besides, i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ?"

he feels you smile into his neck, and you give him your response by happily nodding into his shoulder with a hum.

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks of the promises he's made. he thinks of the promise he made to his old hag to not cause you, such a sweet girl, too much trouble. he remembers the promise he made to his old man to stay safe while he went out on patrol and when he'd fight against shigaraki for the second time. he remembers the promise he made to himself to get his limited edition all might card signed one day. and he remembers the promise he'd made when he said he'd always, always come back to you.

and he remembers the promise he'd made to marry you. the promise that you both would be together and none of the other losers would look at you.

so when he awakens, katsuki doesn't bother to ask why or how.

he simply fights and keeps fighting, so he can win, no matter how fucked up he gets.

and always, always come back to you.

2K notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

Note

Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭

Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid

Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺

First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.

Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]

The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.

You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.

To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.

"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"

Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.

"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.

The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.

Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.

"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.

So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.

"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"

Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.

"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.

The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.

Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.

It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.

So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.

Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.

The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.

Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.

The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.

"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."

"I don't care about money."

Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?

"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.

"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.

But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.

Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.

"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."

The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.

You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.

Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.

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mydearlybeloathed · 6 months

Text

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: even as you grow older, you'll always be his baby sister

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: strawhats x sanjissister!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lowercase intentional, cursing, allusions to insecurities

𝐚/𝐧: this is basically just sanji curing my childhood wish for a big brother. i have more ideas about how sanji would be at his wits end with a reckless little sister so look out for those hehe

i imagine sanji is two years older than you, but it never felt like it. you and him were never apart for too long, more by obligation than choice.

so it was no surprise when sanji dragged confused little you with him as he hid from the pirates invading the ship, only outing your hiding place in the name of saving his food from oregano.

you'd hurried after him, of course; that's all you knew to do at such a young age.

and when zeff had sanji up against the wall, being so young meant you also knew only one thing to do in this situation: you bit zeff, latching your teeth around his arm and drawing blood from his broken skin.

zeff howled and very nearly threw you into the wall as well, before his eyes zeroed in on you, this little girl with wild eyes and a mighty strong jaw. he only jerked you off him, then, staring from you to sanji then back to you. "wha—? what kind of little gremlin just bites a man?!" your eyes were steely. "I'm not a gremlin." then, "bitch." though it was clear you didn't understand what it meant, probably catching it from the other chefs of the now sieged ship. gritting his teeth, zeff continued on his shouting. it made you and sanji angry, and zeff marveled at how your expressions were twin–like, despite your difference in appearance. then, the ship had wrecked, and it all went downhill from there.

sanji always made sure you’d eaten more than him on that damn rock, even when you fought him and scratched him as he forced a morsel of bread into your mouth.

he'd held your hand as you cried the first ten days, and he had mourned when on the eleventh, your eyes took on a dead sort of sheen, like you were now a decade older in the head.

it was unnerving, really.

sanji learned a lot on that rock. like what it meant to be the responsible one, or at least more responsible than you.

sanji just wanted you to listen, but it seemed like all his words went in one ear and out the other. you wouldn't eat despite all his begging, only staring at him with that horridly blank stare and pushing the food back toward him. tears started to form at the corners of his eyes as he held up the very last piece of bread. "please," he begged. "please just eat it." you shook you head, forcing the tears to stream down his cheeks. that broke through your indifference, your frown deepening as you inched closer to him. "we'll half it," you offered, taking his shaking hand and guiding him to split the bread, taking one half and waiting for him to calm down before you ate in silence. you really did feel older than him, and he didn't like it. only when that night fell did he realize you were simply a very, very good actor. your whimpers were like thunder in his ears as he sprang up from a featherlight sleep, his eyes locking on your quivering form just a hair's breadth away. "y/n?" he whispered, shaking your shoulder. you spooked awake, and in the reflection of moonlight he saw glinting tears traced down your face. "nightmare?" your nod and sniffle tore him up inside, and in seconds he was hugging you to his chest, telling you stories till he was sure you were at least sleeping better than him. "someday," he said, "we'll find a place where we'll never go hungry. where every flavor and ingredient can be found. the all blue. i'll take us there, and we'll never starve again." you were asleep by the time he started plotting to raid zeff's side of the rock in the morning. it had been sanji who guarded you from seeing the stump left of zeff's leg, ignoring you when you asked him to explain what was happening.

growing up on the baratie was an experience, for sure.

your only company were the crooks who worked in the kitchen alongside you and sanji, and you found them amusing company indeed.

especially when they started teaching you how to be a remarkable little con-artist. once in your late teens, it wasn't long before you'd abandoned your work in the kitchen to wait tables.

not only were the tips amazing to pocket away, but your charming smile and whimsical attitude made you a master of sympathy.

there isn't a customer you can't placate, a fight you can't break up; sanji would never admit it, but you'd save him from one too many brawls with just a single simper.

it was easy to hold that over his head, but for some reason, sanji never let it keep him from completely wrecking your social life.

to say sanji is protective of you is the understatement of the century; you'd be the first to attest to that.

it was growing to be annoying and just plain inconvenient, if you're being honest.

was it too much to ask for some time to yourself... with the company of a horny teenage boy... in your quarters... alone?

"sanji!" you hissed, face bright red as your brother dragged you and this young sailor boy--you hadn't caught his name--out of a broom cupboard, his grip on the boy's collar deathly. throwing the boy aside, sanji stormed back up to him. "did you touch my sister? you think you can just take advantage of her like tha'?" you ran your hands over your face and rushed to separate sanji, shaking in anger, from the boy, shaking in his boots. "stop! he wasn't takin' advantage of me, sanji. hell, i started it!" "y-yeah!" the sailor boy piped in, cowering behind you. "she was all over me and—" "shut up," you and sanji said in tandem, shooting the boy matching glares that sent the poor sailor darting for his crew's ship.

as the years dragged on, you and sanji couldn't deny that the idea of remaining on the baratie all your lives would be... well... sad.

you wanted more for yourselves—you specifically wanted to get sanji away from zeff's constant criticism, no matter how well–meaning it was.

but the years really were dragging, and could you ever really bare to leave the man you'd nearly called father on several occasions? could you leave the shit-hole restaurant that raised you in it's wooden arms?

probably not. you'd probably die washing dishes (snore) and burning water (whoops) and charming the pants off grumpy old men (yuck).

that is, it always seemed that way until a grand vessel with a goat for a masthead docked at the baratie.

the day had been it's usual level of boring, until two customers decided to have a little row which heated up with every word shot back at each other.

you, having a good track record, rushed forth to prevent the fight just itching to break out. but today was not your lucky day.

"gentlemen," you grinned. stepping between the two men, you held up your hands and settled each of them with batted eyes and a soft expression. "what's this about, hmm?" sanji loitered at a nearby table, refilling drinks with one eye on you. he was ripely kicked out of the kitchen, snug in his waiter's jacket. one of them huffed, "he's at my table!" "i don't see your name on it!" the other snapped. your patience wanned, your thoughts screaming man-child. "i'm sure we can work something out. just please, don't start anything in the restaurant." the first man seemed to consider you, his eyes dragging up and down your form, but any progress you might have made was destroyed by the next second. "i ain't movin', girl. he can go shit 'imself in the corner." that was how you winded up directly between them, your hands pushing against either chest to keep them separated, your heartrate accelerating as they pressed in on you as if you weren't even there. grunting, you called out, "brother?" in seconds, sanji had a grip on your sleeve in one hand and a fistful of the first man's collar in the other. he jerked you away from them and swiftly shoved the men away from each other. "sister," he said in turn, cracking his neck as the men continued to not learn their lesson. "take these rolls to table four, yeah?" you didn't need to be told twice, swiping the tray of bread from his arm and beelining for a booth housing a motley crew of people. behind you, grunts and winces and crashing could be heard, followed by the thick silence of your brother's victory. you set the tray down on the table, shooting a tight lipped smile up at the guests. a boy wearing a peculiar straw hat locked you in place with his bright eyes and wondered aloud, "he's a great fighter." "yep," you quipped. "a real hero. any drinks for the handsome crew?"

it turned out the boy with the straw hat was crazy: he intended to become king of the pirates.

you admired his tenacity, of course, but really? he had a death wish.

still, the more you spoke to luffy and the more you observed his character, being king of the pirates didn't seem so crazy. he had guts, that was for sure.

as crazy as it sounded, you started to believe he could do it.

so it was really no surprise you said yes when luffy asked you to join his crew.

he had already asked sanji the day before—before luffy's swordsman friend got obliterated by a warlord of the sea.

you didn't know him, but when you rushed onto the going merry after zeff an sanji, and you saw the bloodied man lying there, you could barely move a muscle.

you were never good around the air of death, and it was all around roronoa zoro, lingering like a knock you expected but never came. so you couldn't move, not even when they moved zoro to a bed, out of sight. not when zeff and sanji retreated back to the baratie.

you snapped back to life at the sound of luffy's voice, finding him leaning down to be directly eye level with you. he was still speaking, and it felt sort of like being under water, till finally, you surfaced. "sorry what?" "are you okay?" he asked, brows knit. you pondered your response while looking anywhere but his face. "yeah, sorry. i... i don't like feeling helpless, i guess." you vaguely gestured to where zoro's limp body had laid upon the nearby table. "being out of control makes me wig out." luffy tilted his head. "why're you out of control?" "because," you nearly laughed. "your friend is dying." immediately, you regretted your word choice, hating how the light fizzled from his eyes. "he's not dying," luffy snapped back. "he was injured and now he's healing. why does everyone insist he's dying?" you shuffled on your feet. "right, sorry." when you met his eyes again, there wasn't any frustration like you assumed there would be. instead, he settled you with a curious look. "you don't have to keep apologizing." luffy was an odd type of pirate, you thought with a forced little grin. "then how will people know i'm sorry?" he smiled. "fair point." taking a hold of your sleeve, luffy started to drag you deeper into the going merry, leading you right to where zoro was laid. his grip on you loosened as he passed into the room, but you stayed cemented in the doorway. nami was there, sullen looking. you watched as nami berated luffy and stormed away, shoulder checking you on the way out, leaving luffy smileless. that didn't sit well with you. walking up beside him, you took a kneel just as he did, and turned your eyes on zoro's pallid face. "hello," you murmured. silence was your reply. "i'm y/n. you don't know me... your friends care a lot about you. it'd be... sad, if you died." luffy stiffened at your side. "which you won't! i've heard of you. no way the demon pirate hunter will let—let a scratch get him..." as your rambling died down, luffy slowly shifted to look at you, all serious for a moment. unnerved, you chuckled nervously. "what?" a tiny grin worked its way onto his lips, a glimmer in his eyes. "will you join my crew?" you nearly laughed. "luffy, you don't want me." "yeah. i do. why else would i ask?" "i'm useless." "you're kind," he said, shutting you up as a flush bloomed in your cheeks. "not everyone can say that."

a long story short, you joined luffy's crew of strawhats right along sanji.

your parting from the baratie had been watery, to say the least. whilst sanji shouted curses at zeff and stormed out to luffy's ship, you stood shaky as zeff huffed, his eyes roaming toward you.

you very nearly tripped head over foot in your sprint to wrap him in a hug. he was the only father you'd ever had, really. leaving him was bittersweet.

the going merry was a very nice place to call home, in your opinion.

you were a jack of all trades amidst the crew, choosing to do odd jobs around the ship. most days, you found yourself asking around with a little list in your journal, taking note of everyone’s grocery needs and even keeping track of the ship’s supply inventory.

not only that, but you found your crewmates tended to lack the sense to take care of themselves in a timely manner.

that is, none of them could be faster than your attentive eye, and no one was safe from your protective inclinations.

nami was attentive, but she tended to disassociate, and when she did it was very hard to get her back. she would go on for hours, working herself to the brink of exhaustion, not accepting even a sip of water. (she couldn't stop you, however, from forcing a cup of ice water down her throat. even she was intimidated by your determination to hydrate her).

then there was zoro, who absolutely refused to allow anyone to help him dress his wounds; and since he wasn't the best at it, you often stared at his haphazard bandages with fear of infection. he brushed you off enough times to invoke your wrath upon him. (zoro quit refusing after the first three times you ambushed him, wrapping your arm around his neck and blocking his airway).

you always listened to usopp's stories, but oftentimes you grew tired of the repetitive and clearly fake tall tales. you wanted to know his real stories, and you told him so. he'd laughed awkwardly and replied that he wasn't interesting enough for that. (he was fairly surprised at your insistence, and was warmed at your fascination with the silly story of how he met kaya).

luffy, your captain, was a walking migraine most days. he was smart, but just as brave, and jumped to action faster than you could process. it left you stressed beyond what you could handle, and this alone was enough to make luffy more cautious. (he never wanted to make you unhappy, so you'd inadvertently given him some of your common sense).

finally, sanji, who you'd been dealing with all your life. you knew all his tells, whether it was baking macarons when he was upset or going eerily silent for far too long. you always knew what he needed, and when he needed it. (more often than not all he needed was a compliment, and not just from some doe–eyed woman at a bar; a word of sentiment from his baby sister could drag him out of any stupor).

overtime, the crew took to calling you their boatswain. after all, you fit the job description, and you took the title with pride.

as time flew by with the strawhats, you began to listen to the dreams and aspirations of the others, and began to wonder what exactly you wanted out of life. the all blue was sanji’s dream… so what was yours?

the going merry was docked at a friendly port for the next few days, meaning the crew was free to explore and roam the city as they pleased. you, however, remained behind that very first night.

as far as you knew, the others had decided upon a bar for the night’s celebration. The quiet dwelling over the ship was calming, and from your sweat crisscrossed on the afterdeck you had a wide view of the stars.

your notebook rested on your belly, pen tight between your fingers, thoughts moving a million miles an hour. there hadn’t been time to get shopping done that day, so you would rouse the ship early the next morning and assign them to fetch groceries in pairs of two—just to be safe.

and though the heavy thinking could wait till the morning, you were stuck in a spiral of inventory and lists. it was… exhausting, and offered little to no fulfillment. still, it was what you did to help.

A familiar patter of boots broke your reverie, and you peeked up to find sanji coming to loom over you, his hands shoved in his pockets. his suit jacket was draped over one shoulder and his hair was a mess—he wasn’t drunk though, which was a very good sign.

silently, he disposed of his jacket and laid down beside you, resting his hands behind his head. for a split second, you got a glimpse of the damn rock imbeedded in your memory for all time, and how sanji used to make up stories about the stars.

since then, you’d come to know their true stories. you knew every constellation by name, having memorized them upon the baratie and spoken to them every lonely night. the stars had been your friends in your youth, and though your conversations with them were few and far between now, they always shined for you. so as far as you knew, you were never alone.

sanji raised an arm and pointed in a random direction. “bet you can’t name that one.”

a grin worked its way up your face. “how much?”

he turned his head, eyes boring into you. “if you can’t, you tell me what’s on your mind.”

“that’s hardly fair.”

“take it or leave it.”

you huffed, but complied, glaring up at the sky. “cassiopeia. cursed to remain in the stars for claiming her daughter was more beautiful than the nerieds.” you kissed your teeth. “hardly a punishment. i’d love to be in the stars.”

there was a weight behind your words; a truth so deep you had to take a long breath to recover. wetting your lips, you asked your brother, “do you think, someday, i could study them?”

“why someday?”

“well, you need supplies. tools. there’s only so much our eyes can tell from down here.”

“tools,” he murmured. “so, you want to study the stars?”

the words flooded from your lips. “i want to know everything about them. i want to know why they shine, how far they are, what’s beyond them… can we get there?” you sighed into a smile. “there are some cities that have observatories dedicated to astronomy, but you’ve got to be some kind of noble scholar to get in.”

sanji listened, and he listened well. He laid by your side and listened to you tell him about the stars till nami and zoro came lugging a drunk usopp between them, luffy taking the lead. he remained in thought for most of the night, and sought out nami to ask about expenditures, and then set out to find luffy.

it was safe to say you weren’t quite as upset at sanji and luffy for disappearing all evening when they returned at sunset, some beri short, with a gift in hand.

you stood slack jawed as they revealed a beautiful telescope, the metal polished and bright and shining. how they had managed to sneak it past you and set it up on the afterdeck was beyond you, but you hardly cared to ask.

you threw your arms around your brother, whispering your thank yous, and quickly turned to tackle your captain in a hug just as tight. the night to follow was marked by your awed sighs and the excited way you told the crew about ursa major and ursa minor, then about castor and pollux, and so on till you could barely keep your eyes open.

and sanji would never say it out loud, but he admired you. you turned out pretty damn good despite having him as your big brother. someday, you’d reach the stars. he knew that for certain. he could only hope you’d come visit once or twice.

“g’night,” he muttered to the crew as he stood, making his way over to where you’d drifted off against a barrel. he scooped you up in his arms and was veyr careful to not wake you as he made his way to your and nami’s quarters.

sanji rested you down and moved to take off your boots and pull the blanket over you, and he found himself frozen all of a sudden. lips pursed, he patted your hair, and turned to go. at the door, he paused and looked back. you slept so soundly for once, something he was so very glad for. he wasn’t blind to how you’d been overworking yourself.

perhaps he would talk to you about that in the morning, but for now, he simply smiled. “good night, sister. love you.”

and whispered back to him, just in time for him to hear: “g’night, sanj. i love you.”

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amathslutsguidetofandom · 1 month

Text

"Guess I'm Just Good With Them" - 2

PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x SingleMom!Reader

WARNINGS: Slight insecurities about being a single mom, extreme fluffiness

WORD COUNT: 915

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Sinking into the couch, you groan. It's been an hour trying to put Leila to sleep. And with consistency, you finally have achieved that goal. You run your hands over your face trying to get the drowsiness to evade your eyes, you need to do some more chores. And you know you won't be able to get to them in the morning, with work and the babysitter coming to sit Leila.

Your phone pings. That's weird, it never pings.

It only does when it's your co-worker asking to cover their shift, or it's when your boss is telling you the unfortunate news of you having to work overtime.

But it is neither of those situations. It's an unknown number.

UNKNOWN: Hey there, this is James from Walmart.

You stare at the electronic brick in your hands. You tap on the notification and see the actual message.

Your jaw drops. He actually texted you. James actually texted you.

Your heart races slightly as your thumbs do that little dance over your screen. Biting your lip, you think about what you should write about.

YOU: Hi James! How are you? :)

You groan and tip your head back, thinking your reply is similar to that of a fourth grader. But, that thought instantly vanishes as you see the texting bubble on his side jump in a pattern. While they do you save his name in your contacts.

JAMES: I'm doing alright. How are you, and Leila? 🙂

You let out a deep breath and type again.

YOU: Oh! We’re doing well, thank you. YOU: Happy to hear that you’re doing well too! :)

What’s with you and that smiley face, you whine in embarrassment and throw your phone to the side. “God, why am I like this?” You whine as you run your hands down your face. You never thought twice about texting.

But when it comes to James, you had to. You don’t know why, but you feel flutters in your belly when your brain strays to think about him. You don’t force your brain to do so, it’s just a second nature, an unconscious habit.

You can’t help but think about his charming smile that was on display the whole time Leila looked at him, the way he let your baby girl play with his metal arm, the way he would coo at her when she became fussy.

Your phone pings. Reaching for your phone, you inhale and open the text.

JAMES: That is great to hear. 🙂

You push out your lips, wondering what to reply with.

YOU: :)

You internally groan at your teenage-like response.

JAMES: I just wanted to know if you and Leila are busy this weekend.

You’re heart races again, is he going to ask you out?

YOU: We're not :). Why?

Ok, you were really bold with that response.

JAMES: There is this thing at the Zoo a friend told me about, thought it would be a good idea for Leila to see it?

You are in shock, he really thought about your daughter when his friend mentioned a Zoo.

YOU: That’s a great idea :)

There’s a smile on your face when you hit send on your reply. The bubbles pop up again on James’ side.

JAMES: What about her mother? 🙂

Your heart does a loop. You re-read the message at least 10 times, repeating the words out loud just to make sure if you read it right. And you did.

He, kind of, asked you out.

YOU: Her mother would be happy :)

-----

The shade really did nothing to cool you off from the summer sun. You adjusted the battery powered fan to face Leila completely on the arm rest of the stroller.

Getting up from your bent position you see James approaching you with a backpack on his shoulders. He gives you that sheepish smile he gave you the first time you met. You raise your hand and wave at him, and he returns a two fingered wave.

“Hey,” he smiles at you again, before squatting and caressing Leila’s cheek with his finger. “Heya, peanut,” he smiles, and Leila giggles and grabs onto James’ finger.

“Ah, Leila. We don’t grab fingers, bubba,” you say slowly at your little girl. Leila slowly lets go of James’ finger but still smiles at him.

“She’s learning to listen,” he chuckles, adjusting the baseball cap on his head. You laugh and respond, “only because you are here, James. Otherwise, it’s a cryfest.” James laughs at your statement, nodding his head.

“Please, call me Bucky. My fri-people who know me do,” he clears his throat, and you nod smiling. “Of course, Bucky,” she smiles, and it immediately is pulled into a frown when Leila starts to whine. You’re quick to pick her up and carry her at your waist.

“She was fussy during nap time this morning, I'm sorry,” you explain, your insecurities of being not a good enough mom started to kick in.

Bucky gives a sympathetic smile and he nods along. He puts his hand on the stroller, “I can push the stroller.”

"Really?" You ask in shock, bouncing Leila in your arms. Bucky chuckles and nods, "yeah, it's not a problem for me."

"Thank you," you give a downward smile, and he smiles back.

“Shall we?” He asks with a small grin, ready to push the stroller.

You smile and nod, this man really is the nicest thing that has happened to you in a while.

💌💌💌

TAGLIST <3: @toffeacademia

Here is the part two lovelies!!!

I will be transferring this to a series, so yay!

(if you wanna be tagged in the series, pls comment here 🤗🤗)

The next thing I'm most gonna be posting is the first chapter of "Infinite Solutions"

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fandom

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junosmindpalace · 4 months

Text

SHE WANTS YOU!

🎧 you’re proud to be my man, and i won’t let you go!

synopsis: they just can't see what a particular fangirl of theirs is trying to do...with the msby 4!

content: litte bits of insecure reader and little bit of clueless msby. but fears are put to rest. fluffy. casual intimacy. they are Smitten & loyal bfs

total wc: 4k

BOKUTO: Kotaro has always been good at handling difficult people. It just wasn’t in his nature to think the worst of them, and he handles even intentional malice by interpreting it as genuine questions or comments that needed a response to. And so he’d reflect and answer honestly how he felt, and that was often times enough to shut those kinds of people down.

Even the seemingly most malicious kinds of people Bokuto eagerly approached in a friendly manner and treated as a close friend. That, of course, included his fans.

He's always been one to enjoy basking in the limelight, being praised for his strengths and acknowledged for his easy going attitude. It was a great bolster to his self-esteem; he loved the people, and boy did they love him.

It’s because of Kotaro’s easy going attitude that made forming a relationship with him very easy.

Boundaries can become more easily crossed, but Kotaro doesn’t have very many, which only encourages fans to attempt to see just how far they can tread over the line before they’re pushed back on the other side of it.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with fan interactions, especially on your end; your heart swelled when you saw the ways his fans supported him and how much joy your boyfriend took in connecting with them. Their support meant just as much as his love for the sport he plays.

But there’s one fan you just can’t help but get a bad feeling from.

It’s more instinctive than anything, but the fact that you’re a little too familiar with her doesn’t sit right with you. She's somehow managed to catch Bokuto at all his events, and talk with him outside of matches before he's due to depart from the arena. She's always eager to catch him, even at the very last second, but since it’s Bokuto, he has no qualms, and happily stays to chat for a couple of minutes before the coach insists the team needs to get a move on.

And then she’d start to slowly up the physical touch, from brushing her hand against his skin while reaching for something for him to sign, to fully grasping his arm as she laughs at something he said.

You knew he wouldn’t believe you at first when you brought up your concerns.

“Really? I mean, I don't blame her for coming back for more; I'm awesome! But she’s only a fan!”

This one particular person you had a bad feeling about was not exempted from your boyfriend's goodwill, despite over time becoming more obvious with her intentions. Eventually, she began treating him like an old friend with some underlying feelings.

“I don't think she has bad intentions.” he’d answer honestly in response to your concern. Of course, Bokuto doesn’t want to believe that this nice fan of his has an underlying agenda with her eager conversations, but he can at least see that the situation has been stressing you out with each reluctant drop of the subject, lip jutted out as if not fully soothed by his reassurance.

She’s there in the crowd again, and you know that after the game, no matter the outcome, she’ll go looking for your boyfriend as he sticks around for a couple of interviews to conclude the day, and you dread it. The game goes smoothly, with Kotaro in perfect form, something you know he wasn’t able to achieve very often back in his high school days, and you can’t help but marvel sometimes at the amount of progress he’s made.

When the Jackals eventually file out of the gym after their triumphant win, you make a beeline for each other. He quickly runs to meet you halfway in one of the halls, caught up in his adrenaline high from the game as he wraps his arms around your waist and spins you off the ground. He’s sweaty, and how he still has energy is beyond you, but you don’t care and immediately reciprocate the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Did you see me? Did you see how amazing I was out there?” he badgers excitedly as he puts you down, and you nod with a grin.

“You did so good, Ko! That spike in the final set was—“

“Kotaro! You were incredible!”

Your grip on his forearms immediately tighten, and the two of you both look over your shoulder to see her jogging up to the two of you with a breathless laugh.

“As always, of course. I knew you’d be able to power through their defense!”

“Well, not always.” Bokuto let’s out a little laugh and peeks from the corner of his eye at your tense smile. She seems to take notice as well, and hers only widens.

“Give yourself more credit,” she scoffs playfully. “I noticed even in this game that you—“

“I appreciate the kind words, but I can’t stay to chat.” he smiles at her, wide and genuine, and you look down in surprise when you feel his arm wrap around you, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he brings you to his side.

“My partner here is treating me to a celebratory meal!”

The two of you both blink in surprise at his words. Typically no matter how crowded his schedule, he always spares a couple of minutes to chat.

“Oh, well… I suggest this one sushi place nearby. I can pull up the location!”

“That's alright! Y/N already promised to take me to one of my favorite places. It was nice seeing you again!”

And with that, he takes your hand and drags you off with a bounce in his step and a smile still plastered on his face.

There isn’t a single indication that any of his words were fake or had a malicious undertone meant to humiliate her. Only that he was vocal in that he prioritized you over her.

You gave him a teasing smile. “So, when did I say I'd be treating you?”

“You mean you won’t?!” he whips his head toward you with a heartbroken expression, as if having fully expected that you’d reward him for his incredible performance.

“No, no, of course I will. Anything you want.” you grinned, bumping his shoulder as his grip on your hand tightened and his smile widened, and he continued to boast about how great his plays were.

He later posts a message of thanks to his fans for all the support he received for the match on his socials with a photo of the two of you enjoying your meals. You can now be confident that no other fan will be testing their luck with his boundaries any time soon.

MIYA: Atsumu is solely focused on himself. On his plays. On sharpening his skill. On having his fun.

And, of course, on you.

Atsumu, as much as it has been stereotyped for him, is not one to look for validation in his fans. Whether they’re a fangirl or an old man in the stands who's watched the game all his life, he does not care for their criticisms nor their compliments. The only people he at all considers feedback from is his coach, his brother, and you. That doesn’t mean he’s immune to what they say about each one of his plays, however. He gets down when the commentators call out a bad play, and pumped when the stadium roars with cheers for him.

But because of this sort of suave personality of his, people fit him into the mould of a playboy. And because he has such high expectations of the people around him, people have assumed that he had high expectations of his romantic partners as well.

Someone rich, someone famous, someone absolutely drop dead gorgeous. That was who the majority of Atsumu's fans assume is his criteria for a partner. And so, when he’s spotted out with a celebrity he’s been working closely with for a modeling partnership, one that happens to exceed all of those expectations, it’s no surprise that dating rumors regarding the two of them being in secret kahoots start to circulate among not only their individual fanbases, but the sports community as well.

Multiple comments claiming the encounters to be a “soft launch” made your eye twitch as you encountered them under related posts. You couldn’t help but sometimes find yourself laughing at those who insist that it’s obvious they’re in love with one another.

Perhaps the celebrity he’s been hanging with was in love with him, as she hasn’t been the least bit shameless in expressing her admiration and adoration for your boyfriend, but Atsumu had not the slightest bit of romantic interest for her. You knew through his exasperated rants about her being difficult and obnoxious. But, of course, nobody else knew.

Still, he works with her for quite a bit of time. And though you know Atsumu isn’t the type to be disloyal, certainly not toward you, you can’t help but let the rumors get to your head sometimes, and in turn an insecurity manifests in the form of an ache in your chest or a lump in your throat. It doesn't help the fact that this celebrity is constantly posting her time with him online, and “playfully” validating comments that ship the two of them together.

He tells you to get off of social media when you get down about the situation. It just isn’t worth the mental torture; and besides, their relationship is strictly professional. It's the only reason why she’s so friendly. For a man who loves to bask in whatever praise he’s given, he sure seems oblivious to the very obvious clues she’s been dropping him. He has to believe it’s strictly the guise of accomplishing successful business.

Still, it’s not like you make a conscious decision to go against his words and subject yourself to further irritation and insecurity. You couldn’t help yourself; you knew very well that, compared to her, you were a nobody. You couldn’t compete with everything she had.

You slowly started to agree with the comments who argued that they should get together; they do look pretty good together, they are extremely compatible. And above all else, she could probably support him way better than you ever could. You swear to yourself you don’t feel jealous, bitter, petty--not in the slightest.

But the sour expression Atsumu comments on one evening while the two of you lounge on your couch as you yet again scroll through comments claiming your boyfriend would suit someone not like you has you reflecting otherwise.

“What’s with the look? Reading the news?”

“Mm.” Is your vague reply, eyes not peeling away from the screen in front of you. Atsumu’s curiosity grows, and he raises an eyebrow.

“What’s it say?”

A moment of silence between the two of you as you continue scrolling. When you finally process the question and silence, you inhale sharply and finally look up at him, closing your phone and setting it on the coffee table beside you. “No, it’s nothing. Just something online.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me you’ve been scrolling through those comments again.”

You shoot him a glare at his insensitivity, but also at how quickly he was to figure it out. The sour look on your face has become synonymous with that topic that Atsumu could easily recognize as the source of your frustration.

“Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He groans as he collapses on top of you, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You grunt in pain at the sudden weight, and still annoyed from his previous comment, you try to pry his face away, which only makes Atsumu stubbornly latch even harder onto you. “Atsumu!”

“I told you, those people have no idea what they’re talking about. She’s insufferable.”

“I know.”

It’s a statement, but the sad tone in which you say it makes Atsumu’s heart sink. He opens his eyes and tilts his head to look up at you, chin digging into the side of your arm. “You’re way prettier.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks.”

“And your place is nicer. And your food is tastier. And your humor is better than hers.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you feel your heart lighten a little at his attempts at picking you up, and Atsumu feels his own growing lighter, too. “Don’t tell Osamu about the food thing.”

“Oh, no, his is still better than yours.”

“Of course it is.” You reply back as if it were hardly a matter that needed to be debated.

Atsumu was good at this; making you smile, making you laugh, making you feel loved and wanted. It didn’t take long for him to stomp on the insecurities that managed to manifest in your heart in order to lessen their load on you. He wouldn’t stand for his partner to feel inadequate compared to someone else, especially since Atsumu chose you. You and your wit, your kindness, your passion, your talent, your everything.

He stays over that night as he often does, and he knows he really shouldn’t do this, but the people he cares about came before anything else. And what’s the worst it could do, really?, responding to a couple of comments?

Needless to say that Atsumu’s replies talking you up about how great you are under his shippers’ comments make headlines on news articles the next day--and show the world just who his heart truly belongs to regardless of who you were.

HINATA: Much about him is different, upgraded. His technical skill has immensely bolstered since his high school days. He's able to pull off more in games; impressive feats achieved by his lightning quick reflexes and speed, once aiding him in his high school signature quick now aiding him in setting and receiving, sharpened by his intense training in the South. Even his physique is different; still shorter than most players you’d encounter in the realm of volleyball, but he’s grown a few inches and packed muscle all around. If that wasn’t enough proof of his hard work, his tan surely gave away just how much he dedicated himself to the sport with all the time he spent out in the sun training.

All of these things, along with his impressive performance on the court, have made Shoyo Hinata quite popular, and not simply for what people used to cheer him on for; being the underdog, or one half of a fearsome duo. His journey as a player aided him in his career, and all on his own has he established himself as an indomitable force.

People admire him for that. You admire him for that. You couldn’t blame the people who were so amazed and star stricken by him; how could you when you were as well?

But sometimes it went overboard, and sometimes it seemed like you were the only person who took notice. Sometimes this one sided observation was accidental; he’s too absorbed in his game; in the blood rushing to his ears, in the thrill of a good game-- that he just doesn’t notice. Sometimes you purposely keep the observation one-sided; these kinds of fans are inevitable, and the rational part of you knows they won’t compromise your relationship by any means.

There's one enthusiastic interviewer that’s a fan of Shoyo’s, and that he’s very friendly with; as he is with all of them. But this one in particular has managed to latch onto him because of it. You see her and her crew at every one of his games, big or small, and always openly expresses her very immense love for the sport; and for him.

Of course, Shoyo only understands “volleyball”, and you know that he’s always been giddy over being shown on the front covers or interviewed online, and so he’s always eager to accept a conversation with her, especially since she’s so friendly and knowledgeable.

iIt’s late in yours and Shoyo’s apartment when they run the interviews and live games from a big game earlier that season. As they start to discuss the Black Jackals, you call for him over your shoulder in the kitchen, where he’s preparing dinner.

“Sho, hurry, it’s starting!”

You can hear the increased urgency in his movements, but they die out as you watch one of his interviews from a very familiar news channel come onto screen. Your boyfriend, from hours earlier, stares happily at the interviewer behind the lens.

“Your skill and strength was absolutely incredible in this game- as it always is. You were also very impressive in high school, you must’ve been really popular—especially with the girls.”

You felt your smile drop slightly, not even hearing the curses coming out of Shoyo’s mouth as he fumbled around in the kitchen.

The Shoyo on screen chuckled and rubbed his neck. “Oh, no, not really. Many didn’t even believe I was a starter!”

“Oh, that’s me!” Present Shoyo struggling with your food calls out excitedly from behind the kitchen wall.

“I know!” you laugh over your shoulder, and you recognize the interviewer’s also intermingling with yours, which only makes your irritation grow.

“You’re so impressive though, especially now! I'm sure there isn’t a single person out there who wouldn’t want to be with you.”

You could feel a vein in your head pop and your eye twitch, but you were caught off guard by on- screen-Shoyo’s next words.

“Well, I wouldn’t really know; I have an amazing partner who I'm always looking at, so if there were, I wouldn't have noticed!” he laughed, and it’s so sincere that your heart flutters at the honesty behind it.

“Ohh, that’s so sweet.” you hear the interviewer speak again, and you laugh at the significantly less cheer in her voice. “They must all envy—?“

“Y/N!” he interrupts to introduce you with a cheerful nod. “Yeah, I'm not sure. I know I used to envy their admirers.” he reflects with a short laugh. “But they’re truly my biggest supporter, and always put up with my schedules and drills. There’s one drill in particular actually—“

He goes back to droning on about the subject at hand, about his volleyball training and how it impacted his performance in the game, but by the time Shoyo from behind the kitchen wall finally arrives into the living room, the main spokesperson has moved on to discussing other players and matches.

“Aw, did I miss it?” Shoyo cries disappointedly as he speeds into the room, sliding your plate down on the coffee table in front of you and taking a seat beside you on the couch with his own.

You grin at him, mind still on his words from before and you nudged him. “Took you long enough.”

“You could’ve helped.” he grumbles and you kiss his cheek sympathetically with a small sorry, and from the way he brightens and his cheeks tint pink, you can tell you’re immediately forgiven.

And as he gushes in awe of the other players’ highlights and interviews, a small part of you can’t help but think back on his words and feel a little smug with yourself when you also remember the interviewer’s awkward disposition after he had brought you up. You can’t help but be comforted to know that the innocent mention of you was not only a reminder to her, but to those like her, that his heart was fully committed to you and only you.

SAKUSA: If there was one aspect of Sakusa’s career he particularly disliked, it was the fans.

It was evident that he couldn’t care less about the fame he had or the things people were willing to do for him or had to say about him (unless they were directly interfering with his life), and you couldn’t help but feel some sort of relief to know Kiyoomi would not spare a single glance at some of his more fiercely devoted fans.

Yet of course, your problem had to lie outside of that realm.

Your problem was not an avid fan, who had the circumstances of a parasocial relationship to comfort you, but a colleague of Kiyoomi’s whom the Jackals worked pretty closely with; and happened to be quite a fan of your boyfriends.

You felt bad getting worked up over something so petty, but her persistence in trying to extend her relationship with Sakusa into something friendlier couldn’t help but sound off alarm bells in your head. You already knew that your boyfriend had a million other nuisances to deal with, and you had no intention of adding onto that list with your selfishness and unjustified uneasiness, especially when you knew your boyfriend had strict boundaries he wouldn’t compromise for anyone.

Well, almost anyone.

She was shamelessly unprofessional at times, attempting to emulate your affectionate behavior towards him in hopes that she’ll receive the same sort of submissive response that only you could get out of him.

Your boyfriend, for the sake of keeping good business, tolerated the over-friendliness, and saw it as nothing more than an attempt at trying to seem more casual and easy going in a business setting.

You’ve attempted to subtly bring up your discomfort at times when she got too out of hand for your liking, typically when the two of you were in the car or lounging around at home. You’d ask his thoughts about her behavior or her personality, to which he respond with something that amounted to the conclusion that: “she’s just doing her job.”

She’s tagged along on one of the away games that you so happen to also be coming along on. She's been quite enthusiastic on sharing her research on the area they’re staying in to him, and she doesn’t spare a single detail as he prepares to head out for the day.

“--and apparently the food in this area is extremely good. Everyone says that you can’t visit without trying it. There’s this restaurant in particular not too far from the training center! I’m sure I can get the two of us reservations before we--”

“Why would we do that?” he asks suddenly, obviously already irritated by her incessant conversation, turning toward her with a frown.

Her expression is one of shock and slight embarrassment for a moment before she recollects herself.

“Just…you know, to sample the cuisine!”

“Is it business related?”

Again, blunt and to the point, the woman needs a moment before she responds.

“Well--”

“My partner and I have plans while we’re in the area. You can talk to my manager about scheduling a meeting regarding any matters you have to discuss. I've already discussed with them my availability.”

You start to approach him as he finishes setting the remainder of his gear into his training bag, and the woman yet again tries to recollect herself after suddenly being met with the fact that Kiyoomi was already taken. He looks up at you waiting for him by the gymnasium doors, and doesn’t even spare the woman a single glance or wave before making his way over.

He bumps your shoulder as he strides in step with you, mumbling “let’s get out of here.” and then “are your hands clean?”

And when you mumble a yeah in response, he reaches down to take one in his, intertwining your fingers and leaving just enough room for the woman watching your backs to be able to see the rare show of affection.

You’re caught off guard by the sudden pda, and glance over your shoulder, then back at him in confusion. He feels your quizzical gaze on him and sighs exasperatedly. “She wasn’t just doing her job…”

You couldn’t help but hum a little pleased with yourself, puffing out your chest a little when you realized that she didn’t get her way, and squeeze his hand a little tighter. He shoots you a look at you a little with a roll of his eyes and squeezes back. “We’re going back to the room.”

“Actually, I heard there was a really nice restaurant around here. I was thinking of trying to get us reservations.”

He stared down at your eager smile and bright eyes and found his resolve waning the longer he did so. He turned his gaze back toward the front. “Okay. Room first, though.”

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tasiawrites · 3 months

Text

Aot men x black reader who is feeling a bit insecure

Cw: smut, mirror sex, recorded sex and whatever else y'all finna tell me

Connie

He found out when you were adding stuff to your cart but never asked for his card to buy them, when he asked you why you just off-handedly mentioned that you weren't pretty enough to pull it off. Incorrect.

Now you were sat on Connie's lap. His rough fingers played with your clit, while his dick rubbed against your sweet spot. “Look at the phone mama,” he whispered in your ear. You whined as you watched yourself cum on his dick. You watched as your tits bounced with each thrust. You tried to look away as the camera panned up to your face showing you what you looked like as you came all over Connie's dick. “Look mamas, look how pretty you are,” Connie said kissing your cheek as your pussy fluttered around him in both embarrassment and pure arousal. “Now put the next one on, we're not done.”

Eren

You had been at a party and overheard some people talking. Saying shit like Eren could do better than you. It hurt a little bit as you looked over to where a model-like girl was talking to him. You believed it for a second.

That didn't last long. Once you go home Eren realized something was wrong now he was fucking you an inch from insanity. “Ren I'm sorry slow down,” you whimpered pushing your hand against his hips in a futile effort to get him to stop, or slow down. It wasn't working, he kept fucking you like a man on a mission. He slapped your hand away. “Nah, this is what you get for listening to bitches shit talk,” he said angrily as he plowed through your pussy making your juices fly everywhere. “Gonna come ren… please,” you begged. He just leaned down and captured your lips in a sensual kiss as you came all over him. He slowed down with his forehead against yours. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky. “you know I love you right?” You nodded in affirmation. Eren smiled, “Good, now turn around and catch this nut, ion wanna hear any of that shit again.” He said slapping your ass as an indication for you to put your face down and ass up.

Armin

You had taken too long to come and watch a movie with him. He found you standing in front of the mirror looking at yourself with a look in your eye he didn't like. At all.

Your thighs quivered as Armin stopped again. “C’mon princess, keep going or I'll stop again,” he whispered against your pussy. His blue eyes looking into your brown ones. You looked away in embarrassment as the sight of his face covered in a mess you made in this situation was a bit much. “I- I'm pretty,” your voice cracked into a moan as you felt him dive back in eating you out slow and sweet. “I'm smart,” you said again trying not to cover your face in embarrassment. Armin making you affirm yourself was embarrassing enough, but if you stopped or said anything he didn't think was good enough he would stop. “I'm p-perfect,” your thighs clenched around his head as he sucked on your clit gently. “Min, m gonna come,” you begged trying to both push him away and pull him closer. He just hummed as he looked up at you through your legs. You came with a loud moan. He pulled away and brought his face close to yours. “you're sexy,” he said, pressing a kiss on your lips. “Think you have one more for me princess?” He asked rubbing his tip against your folds.

Onyakapon

His girl? Insecure? No, not possible.

“Onya, please,” you begged, closing your eyes. “none of that,” he growled in your ear. “You're gonna be a good girl and watch me fuck my pussy and watch yourself cum on your dick,” he pressed a kiss on your temple. “Fuck you talkin' bout you ain't fine,” he kissed his teeth in annoyance as he held your face forcing you to watch yourself bounce on his dick. You watched as your pussy creamed all over him messily. Your eyes followed it down his balls and watched it drip to the floor. He tapped your face making your eyes flutter back upward. You met your eyes in the mirror. You took in how utterly fucked you looked. There was drool slipping down the side of your face, your eyes were lidded and teary, even your hair was fucked up. You closed your eyes and tried to hide your face in Onyakapon's neck. That wasn't sliding and your eyes shot wide open as he lay a slap on your clit. “Eyes in the mirror baby, ion wanna see you do that again,” he tsked fucking you harder. “Onya, gonna cum,” you cried, your nails digging into his arm as he began to play with your clit while somehow bouncing you harder on his dick. Your thighs shook as you came, squirting all over the mirror. “That's it cum for me pretty girl,” he kissed your cheek, licking off the tears that escaped your eyes.

#aot x black reader #onyakapon x black reader #armin x black reader #eren x black reader #connie x black reader #black reader smut #aot smut

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neverinadream · 8 months

Text

Can't You Feel It Too?

Summary: Mason would do anything to be with you, even get down on his knees and beg for it.

Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Please Don't Go Home Yet - Stephen Sanchez

Warnings: angst, toxic situationship, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart...), suggestive themes and like a couple of lines that are smut-ish, begging, insecure about love, conflict but with resolution

Notes: so this was originally going to be smut but i didn't feel like it would be appropriate, idk, i'll save some of those themes/topics for another 🤭, i'm not the most confident about this one but only because i haven't written just angst in a long time, i'm mainly a smut writer now. feedback is always appreciated

A sigh left your lips as Mason peered through your bedroom window, a lopsided smile pinching the corners of his mouth. "Open up!" He shouts, but the thick pane of glass between you muffled his voice. He points to the handle, shouting, "open up," one more time. Another sigh passes your lips as you reach for the handle, already feeling the regret you would feel before the sun has a chance to rise. "Hi," he says, his voice now clear to you with the window now open, "aren't you going to let me in?"

"No."

"Come on, love-"

"Mason, it's the middle of the night," you stress, tightening your hand around the handle, readying yourself to pull it shut, "go home!"

"Maybe I should remember that the next time you want to see me in the middle night," he fires back, bitterness bubbling on his tongue as he speaks back to you. He checks over his shoulder when he hears a noise coming from hedges but looks back at you after seeing a cat dart between yours and your neighbour's gardens. "Come on," he tries once more, "let me in."

Your hand remains the handle. "Why should I?"

"Because it's been weeks, y/n," he replies, his voice quieting as the features of his face grow softer. He searches your eyes for a part of you that isn't cold, a part of you that might be happy to see him, but there's nothing there. "I need you."

"You have others."

"But none that are like you."

You bite your bottom lip, gnawing at the soft flesh, and Mason has to stop himself from reaching to stop you. "Not even Jessica?" You drop your hand onto the windowsill, leaning forward to meet him outside your window. "I'm sure she would be thrilled to know you're here at my window and not at hers."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, a harsh sigh of frustration falling off his lips. "How many times do I have to tell you that she came onto me?"

"Then why did you leave with her?"

His lips press together in a thin line. "Who told you that?"

You refuse to answer. There was no need to drag another person into the mess you had been creating these last few months. A one-night stand with a friend of a friend had turned into months of pining for Mason, but months of hooking up when it suited you best.

Falling in love is scary when you're afraid of heights. It's the biggest fall of them all. So you control the situation. Refuse to see him when he wants to see you, deny his calls and stop replying to his messages the second his romantic words start to tug at your heartstrings, only to pick back up from where you left off a week later. And Mason would come running back to you every time.

You would rather hurt him than risk the possibility of love and happiness.

"It's freezing, okay," Mason whines, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, "and if I stay out here any longer, I think my balls might drop off."

"Then go back to your car-"

"I took an Uber here."

"Go to the front door," you sigh, reaching to pull the window shut.

"Or you just let me climb through your window?" A grin pinches the corners of his mouth. "Come on, it'll be a lot easier."

You raise your eyebrow, eying him suspiciously for any sign of intoxication. "Are you drunk?"

He looks at you, offended by your assumption. "What? No!" You take a few steps back, arms folding across your chest, and watch him successfully manoeuvre his way in through your window. You'd never had someone sneak into your bedroom like this before and you had to ignore the thrill you felt. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because if you think climbing through my bedroom window at god knows what hour in the morning is easier than just using the front door, then you better be drunk."

"Or," he takes a second to dust his hands down the front of his shorts before finishing, "I just don't want to run the risk of having to deal with your roommate."

You frown. "Niamh wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I wasn't talking about Niamh."

You wanted to say something nice about your other roommate, Lily, to come to her defense, but you couldn't help but agree with him. Lily was incredibly honest about everything and the first time she met Mason, she told him she thought he lacked intelligence and his career was one of little importance. Could you and Lily ever be friends? Probably not. But you and Niamh had a spare room, rent to pay, and your part-time jobs only could cover so much of it.

Being a student was hard.

"Besides," Mason pulls you out of your thoughts, "you're on the ground floor."

"I've watched you play," you snort, rolling your eyes, "I've seen you take a fall to the floor because of a flick."

"That's just for show, innit."

You turn your back to him, the screen of your laptop and bedside lamp still illuminating your otherwise dark room. "I hope you know I only let you in so you had somewhere warm to wait." You walk over to your bed, one hand sinking into the mattress as you reach across to close your laptop; the last of your reading could be finished in the morning. "You're not staying, Mason. I want you gone before Niamh or Lily hear you."

"I'm not going anywhere." His eyes drag down your body as you snap back around to face him. Your legs were bare and your upper half was covered by one of his shirts. "Cute top," he utters, nodding in your direction, "I think I have one just like it, except mine has this little hole on the left sleeve." He stops in front of you, his fingers brushing purposely against your arm as he reaches out to touch the left sleeve, his thumb running against the small hole. "It looks better on you anyway."

He looks down from your eyes to your lips, studying their shape, the curve of your cupid bow, wondering if they were still as soft as they were the last time he kissed you. He dips his head but forces himself not to kiss you, no matter how hungry he is for you. Instead, he just presses his forehead against yours, resting it there, with his eyes closed, and enjoys the close proximity to you.

"Mason-"

"I did sleep with Jessica," he confesses, his breath drifting down your face and neck as he sighs, "but not because I thought she was attractive or anything like that, I wanted to see if I could move on from you."

You take a deep breath and swallow the jealousy that was brewing inside. "And can you?" You peek up at him through your eyelashes to find him gazing back at you. "Can you move on from me?"

He cradles your head in his hands, holding you still as he pulls back to kiss your forehead. "I want to." His thumb brushes against your cheek, memorising its softness. He treated every interaction with you like it was his last one.

"You should try harder."

"You think I haven't tried?" He growled, pulling back to look at you. There's no trying to hide the pain in his eyes. "Every time I think I'm ready to move on, you appear out of nowhere, and I come crawling back to you like some lost love-sick puppy!"

"Would you keep your voice down?" You stress, taking his wrists and pulling his hands down to his sides. You walk over to your door and shut it the rest of the way. "I don't need another bollocking from them two because you showed up here unannounced, might I add, in the middle of the fucking night."

"Unannounced?" He places his hands on his hips, whispering, "oh my," under his breath. "What? Do I have to make a-a fucking appointment to see you or something?" You roll your eyes, unamused by his use of sarcasm. "I haven't seen or heard from you in two weeks! I had no choice but to resort to desperate measures."

You fold your arms defensively across your chest. "I think you need to leave."

Shaking his head, he brings his hands to cradle your face once more as he closes the gap between you. His heart hammers inside his chest, the blood thumping loudly in his ears; this was now or never for him. "Me and you, I know we can make this work," he pleads, finding your eyes in the dim lighting.

"Mason, I can't do this right now," you avoid his eyes, staring at his chin.

"Then when? Tomorrow? Maybe the next day? Or perhaps the day after that?" He tilts your head back, leaving you with no option but to look at him. "Don't you see how much this hurts me?" He closed his eyes, hiding the tears that glossed them, and rested his head against yours. "Why can't you just pick me?" He chokes on the lump in his throat.

You push him away before you can let yourself melt into him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Because you won't give me a chance to understand!"

You lunge forward and clamp your hand over his mouth. "What did I just tell you?" Your eyes flick up to the ceiling and then back down at Mason, whose eyes have never left you. "I won't tell you again."

"And I don't care if they hear me," he hisses, curling his hand around the side of your neck, fingers caressing you, "let me stay, please? We don't- I need you, baby!" He sighs at your lack of reaction. "You need me to beg, is that it?" He brings his face closer to yours, his breath hitting your ear as he whispers, "I know you like it when I beg for it."

"No, I don't," you pull away, disagreeing with him.

"You think I'm dumb, princess?" You're compelled to act dumb and shake your head like you had no idea what he was talking about. "Think I haven't noticed how you need to be in control over every aspect of your life? Including us?" He moves the hand around your neck up onto your jaw, pushing his thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it and watching it fall back into place. "You want me, I know you do," his voice was low and husky, "and I know how to prove it."

He lowers himself to his knees, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, fingers pressing hard enough into your skin for it to sting. His name comes out in a sigh as he leans in to leave a kiss on each of them, your body tingling like each kiss was a jolt of electricity passing through. You don't want to but you reach out and touch him, a soft gasp melting away the silence as you threaded one hand through his hair. He hums approvingly and leans his face against you, kissing your thighs again.

"Tell me you want this," he leans back, looking up at you in the dark, half of his face illuminated by the lamp, "tell me you've missed feeling my hands on your thighs. Tell me you've been thinking about my tongue on you, kissing you, biting these thighs." You grip his hair tighter, steading yourself as he lifts one leg over his shoulder, and turns to graze his teeth on the inner of your thigh, tongue gliding over the spot to soothe any pain. "Tell me you missed having my hands under your shirt," one hand disappears and Mason groans as he moulds his hand around your breast, "grabbing these perfect tits."

You whimper as he rolls your nipple between his finger and thumb, the nub pebbling under his rough touch. "Keep doing that," you arch your back and pull on his hair. You couldn't begin to put into words how much you had missed his touch.

"I will, baby," he nods, placing another kiss on your thigh, "I'll do anything you want- I'll be your good boy, but I need you to say it." He drags his hand away from your chest, leaving it to linger on your belly. He ignores your demand when you tell him to put it back, hissing as you tug on his hair. "Please," he begs, blowing cool air against your panties, exposed to him as he pushes your shirt up. A faint grin tugs on the corners of his lips as he listens to you moan. "Come on, just say it!"

Just say it.

Say it!

"I can see it in your eyes, baby," he whispers, the expression in his eyes softening as they peered up at you, "please, just say it."

Put him out of his misery and just say it!

You stroke your hand down his face, your fingers touching along his jaw, your belly warming as he melts into your touch. He was starved of your touch, ravenous for just about anything. "Please, please, please," you whimper at how he whines for you, the neediness and the desperation so clearly in his voice, "can't you see what we can have together?" Your head was dizzy and his words had your heart thumping wildly in your chest. "Just say it," he encourages with another kiss, "I know you want to."

"Why are you doing this?" You question him, running your thumb over his chin.

"Because I like you and I know you like me too, and maybe you could just admit that to yourself if you just got out of your head!" He lifts and lowers your foot back down onto the carpet, separating the two of you, before rising to his feet with a broken sigh. You melt into his touch as his hand cradles your cheek, your eyes closing to enjoy the softness of his affection - affection that you weren't deserving of. "We could have a good thing, you and me," he says, searching your eyes as they look up at him, "so why are you so afraid to admit that?"

"I'm not afraid."

Yes, you are.

"You are!" Mason growled, a new kind of annoyance forming in his eyes. "I got down on my knees for you, I begged you to say it, I gave you the control you so desperately needed and you still couldn't say it! It's just three words, y/n-"

"But it's not just three words, Mason!" You raise your voice, snapping at him as you talk over him. His hand was long gone from your face, and the warmth his affection provided was now chilled by the coldness of your hardened exterior. "I have been afraid of heights my whole entire life," you mumble, nervously biting at your bottom lip, "and I don't think there's any greater height to fall from than love."

Your explanation was silly and you didn't expect him to understand.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do if there is no one there to catch me if I do fall," you finish, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, letting your head hang so you looked down at the floor and not at the pain on his face, "what would be the purpose of letting my walls break down if there's never anyone there to let in?"

Mason lingers for a moment, the shock of your admission sinking in, before snapping himself back to reality. "You don't have to worry about me not being there," he promises, hesitating at first and then sinking onto his knees in front of you. He hooks his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to get a better look at you. "I'll be there to catch you, princess," he nods, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek, collecting a tear, "I'll be there every single time."

"Even after all the mess I've created?" You sniffle, it didn't go unnoticed to you that you were undeserving of any of this. He produces a warm but small smile, his hand caressing your face. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as you nuzzle your face into his palm. "I don't deserve you," you mumble, cupping your hand around his.

"One or two people might have said that," he agrees, remembering previous conversations he's had with the likes of Woody and various members of his new club. Woody had told him he was crazy to keep going back, Jadon suggested he should just give up, and Luke had made a comment or two he would never repeat to you. "And maybe once or twice I would've agreed with them," he adds, "but I don't want to move on from you; I want to be with you. I want to fall in and out of love with you. I want us to have arguments over the silliest of things, and then make up by having mind-blowing sex. I want to take you home to meet my parents, hear my nieces call you their auntie, and tell my sister that I think I've found the one."

You closed your eyes and tried to picture the life Mason was already planning for you. Sunday dinners with his family. Playing dress-up and having tea parties with his nieces. Him showing you around his hometown, taking you to all his favourite spots, and sharing ice cream together. It all made you smile.

"It sounds nice," you whisper, opening your eyes.

"It can be if you allow it."

"I like you, Mason," you sit up, lowering his hand into your lap, your fingers fiddling with his, "but I don't know how to do this." You chew on the pad of your thumb, eyes casting down at your joined hands. He strokes his thumb lovingly against the backs of your fingers, an act so small but greatly calms you down. "I don't know where to start, or the right thing to say."

He releases your hand and cradles your face, cutely framing the sides in his large hands, his thumbs brushing against the apples of your cheeks. "Look at me," his eyes peered into yours, their rich earthy tones warm under the low lights, "you like me?"

You frown, "that's what you took away from that?"

"'m sorry," he chuckles, taking his hands away, holding them in the air as he comes to his defence, "I just really liked hearing you say it." He lowers them onto your lap, thumbs brushing against your bare thighs, smiling back at you as you roll your eyes. "Say it again-"

"Mason-"

"Please, baby," he begs, talking over the top of you. He holds up a single finger. "Just say it one more time."

You tilt your head to the side, a surprised laugh bursting from the deepest part of your throat. "Seriously?" He nods, eyes big and round as he produces his best puppy dog eyes for you. "Mason Tony Mount," you take a deep breath and place your hands on both of his shoulders as you move onto the very edge of your bed. He wraps his arms around your waist, preparing to catch you if you were to fall. You lean closer, resting your head against his, gazing into his eyes, letting them drift down to his lips. "I..."

"Go on," he whispers, laying his hands flat against the small of your back, his cheeks twitching as your arms looped around his neck, "say it." You try to close the gap, but you're left chasing his lips. "No," he rejects you, pushing his hands firmly against you, "say it."

"Promise to catch me when I fall?"

"Every time."

Taking a deep breath, you inhaled his warmth, his strength, and his reassurance to always be there to catch you if you fall and exhaled all your insecurities and every part of you that desired to run away. A wrecking ball had hit the walls you had worked so hard to perfect, and Mason had stepped through the hole it left behind.

This was no longer a height you were scared of.

"I like you, Mason," you whisper out into the gap that remains between you. This confession was just for him, it didn't need to be shared with the room's darkness that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. "I like you so goddamn much," you mumble, raking your fingers through his hair, teasing out a gasp as you gave the short strands a soft tug, "and I'm sorry."

Mason frowns, "for what?"

"For hurting you."

He moves one hand from your back, bringing it up to touch the nape of your neck. "I'm not hurting anymore," he whispers just before your mouths collide.

The kiss is exploratory at first. Gentle and intentional. It isn't until his hands are gripping your hips hard that you realise how heated the kiss was becoming - teeth tugging on bottom lips, tongues tangling together, hands pulling at each other's bodies. You pull apart before you can pull him onto the bed, chests rising and falling at a quick pace as you both try to catch your breaths, your eyes still closed, both completely lost in the moment.

This.

This is what you wanted.

"Stay?"

It sounded more like a command than a question, but Mason nodded without saying another word. He removes his hoodie as he stands, and you reach out to touch him, your hands landing on his hips, your lips brushing against the middle of his stomach. He lets out a soft sigh, hooking his fingers under your chin and tilting your head back to look up at him.

"We can take this as fast or as slow as you want it, okay?" You nod, grateful he wasn't expecting you to dive straight into the deep end of this newly forming relationship. "No more running away, no more under-appreciating each other," he says, setting out some basic rules for the both of you, but mainly just for you, "if you stay open and honest with me, then I promise to always be there to catch you."

———————

Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount angst #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

in another life * fem!driver au

"if not in this universe, do you think we're at least together in another?" "there has to be at least one where we're happy."

i HAVE SUCCUMBEDDD TO THE VOICEESSSSSS THE VOICESSSSSSS AHHHHHH

and my demons bc here we are :/

this is more smaus and shorter blurbs just because i don't wanna get too attached to logan and my literal fictional character being together huhuhuhu

could've been -> in which logan decided to make a move on her after her confession instead of ignoring his feelings and eventually getting over it

everything at 18, but nothing at 22 -> in which the drastic difference in their performance in their career seems to finally be catching up to them

they ask, “do you have a man?” -> in which everyone is curious why the grid princess is still single despite instagram posts from them seem to be giving out another narrative

is it just platonic? -> in which she and logan can’t help but flirt with each other in public, but it’s always disregarded as them being mega best friends

everybody talks too much -> in which he accidentally slips up during an interview and calls her his ‘girlfriend’ sending everyone into a frenzy

in the late night, in a disguise -> in which logan has to dress entirely differently to run some late-night errands with her in the uk

the grid princess x everyone -> in which everyone seems to ship her with everyone but her actual secret boyfriend

kiss all your tears away -> in which she and logan don't walk into the paddocks together for the first time all season and sends everyone speculating about the status of their relationship friendship

is it killing you like it's killing me? -> in which she and logan try to navigate the worst part about dating your literal coworker

tis the season for mistletoasters -> in which they invite a select few of their friends over for the holidays and a particular holiday decoration catches them off guard

there doesn't seem to be anyone around -> in which they're simply not discreet enough about sneaking around in the paddocks

the summer seemed to last forever -> in which they didn't want summer break to end because that meant having to sneak around again

baby, it's cold outside -> in which she always get seasonal depression at the same time of the year and he tries to make her feel better about it

i don't want you like a best friend -> in which their trip to the bahamas two years ago suddenly becomes a push and pull game that neither of them knew the rules to

the kind of book you can't put down -> in which the thought of settling down and being with her scares him more than anything in the world, but he can’t seem to steer away from the thought of ‘them’

you make everyday feel like it's christmas -> in which logan surprises her in the morning with a throughtful second present

in sickness and in health -> in which she's down with the flu and while she's locked herself away to contain the virus, her boyfriend simply refuses to stay away for too long

bad sushi and bad stomachs -> in which she completely overanalyses the situation when she wakes up puking from bad sushi, forcing her to have a conversation about potentially having kids

it's when we're in a crowded room -> in which they’ve got their own little ways to communicate their feelings for one another while they’re under watch of the crowd that’s not supposed to know of their relationship

god bless america -> in which it's everyone's favourite american's birthday and they can't help but take the piss out of him

i'm a monster on the hill -> in which insecurities suddenly strike up when she sees her boyfriend parading with williams’ star guest for the race weekend

#disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial

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reve-writes · 1 year

Text

—all in; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader | resident evil | 1,3k words. ʚ he reassures you when your insecurity comes up following your recent encounter with ada wong. ʚ misunderstanding trope; slight angst, but happy ending; kissing; profanity. ʚ a/n i love ada wong but i've just been reading too many angst about jealous!reader i needed something happier.

It has become a routine at this point.

The two of you come home after a mission, battered and bruised and a little worse for wear. All sweat and dirt and grime from the past week. It's supposed to be all smiles. You're supposed to be slipping into the shower together, rubbing all the traces of the terror from each other's skin and settling into the softness of your comforter in your shared bedroom.

Supposed to.

Of fucking course, it isn't.

You've been quiet. Leon isn't stupid. He knows that you've withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own head and you're now ticking like a time bomb, ready to explode from whatever conclusion you've come up with. He's preparing for it, bracing for the impact.

It never comes.

You drop your bag near the couch of your living room and then you're slinking into the shower. Within seconds, he hears it running. You still haven't said a word.

He sighs, settling into one of the four chairs at your dinner table. He has already grabbed a drink, an expensive bottle with a shot glass. It's unbearable—the anticipation, knowing that there's an upcoming disaster, waiting for it, but it doesn't come.

You're trying not to think, but in the confines of your shower walls, the white-marbled tiles do little to distract you as your head pounds, running back the interactions you had with her.

Bobbed black hair. Red body-tight dress. Red smear of her lipstick on his cheek—he pulled away, yes, but the smudge is still there even when you landed. The smell of her perfume. Hell, you swear you can even still hear the click of her heels.

So many years into your relationship, you think you're over this. You think you won't be so hung up over a phantom of your past anymore, but whenever she shows up as she pleases, it's as if the domesticity you've built with Leon crumbles before your very eyes.

Maybe this would be easier if you know she's indifferent towards him. Maybe it makes you a bad person to hope for such a thing. It would be so much better if he's the only one who feels anything, but you know it's the furthest thing from the truth.

You leave the shower, the heat from the hot water is getting into your head.

“Are you done?” His voice startles you as you're towelling off your hair, trying to get into your shared bedroom. You need to think, but thinking is the only thing you've been doing since that fateful run-in. You need to talk, but you don't think you're ready for that conversation.

“Mhm. You can have the shower,” you reply, trying to sound as nonchalant as you can. It's probably the longest sentence you've said to him recently.

He throws back another shot. “I'm not talking about the shower.”

“So?” It's a curt reply. Short. Not at all close to the storm brewing inside of you.

“Baby.” The sound comes out as a half-whine. “Let's talk.”

“We don't — We have nothing to talk about.”

“Don't do that,” he presses again. “Talk to me. Come on.”

“I am talking to you, Leon.” You sigh out. You've never wanted to bolt into your bedroom faster, but you can't run from this forever. So, instead, you clench your fists, approaching the dinner table. As he's holding his glass, about to down another, you grab it from him. He lets you, watches you as you pour the liquid down your throat.

“What's on your mind?” He grabs the glass from you, pouring another for himself.

“Oh, I don't know, handsome. Maybe you can enlighten me.”

In any other situation, he wouldn't have been able to hold a grin blooming on his face at the nickname, but you're so obviously mocking him. Your tone and inflections shift to imitate hers.

Ada Wong.

“We've been over this before.”

“And yet every time she shows up, we're back where we started. Again.”

“We're not,” he protests. “You like to circle back to the same old argument. I'm over it.”

“Sure, you are. That's why you keep letting her take whatever she wants and leave.” You can practically taste the bitterness on the roof of your mouth. “If you don't look so — if you don't look like you're so ready to drop everything for her everytime she shows up, maybe we won't have to keep having this conversation.”

His eyebrows scrunch together and he puts his shot glass down on the table with a clang. “That's not true. What are you implying?”

“I'm saying that I'm not sure if I walk out right now, you'll chase after me. I'm not sure you won't end up looking for her instead.”

He frowns. A flash of hurt falls over his face. You've gone too far, but you want to. You want this to hurt. You're tired of constantly being the one he settles for.

“Is that what take me for?” He snarls. “You think I'd just go around, begging her to let me on her bed? Even after all these years of—” he swallows harshly. “—of us.”

“Won't you?”

His hand falls on the table with a harsh, cracking sound. It jolts you. Even as he's visibly seething, he doesn't yell. “You're so fucking cruel.”

“What am I supposed to think, then, Leon?”

“That I love you.”

“But do you love her, too?”

“No!” His reply comes quick, with conviction—the type of conviction that devout preachers have and you know then that you're being unfair. “I don't.”

You bite the inside of your cheeks. It feels silly. After all these years, it still doesn't take much to ruffle your feathers when it comes to her. He reaches for your hand, squeezing once, twice.

“I don't know about you,” he says, “but I'm all in on this, ___. On us. Don't ever doubt that.”

Leon pushes his chair backwards, making space for you to step in between his legs. He pulls you towards him, arms wrapping around your waist. You let him, even as you know he's getting all the dirt and grime you've washed away back onto you.

“She's someone from my past. We'll keep bumping into her on missions. I can't help that.” When he speaks, you feel his voice reverberating in your chest. “I need you to know that she's not you and she will never be you. She's not even an option. There's only you, okay?”

You nod, tangling your hand in his hair. The strands used to be lighter, sun-kissed, but with age it has taken on a darker shade. Almost black.

“Okay,” you say. You pull back slightly, brushing the hair out of his face and your eyes fall to the red smudge on his cheek. Another reminder of her. As you craddle his face, you run your thumb over the smudge, rubbing it—removing the traces of her.

He leans into your touch. “And I don't 'look so ready to drop everything for her' because I'm not. That version of me doesn't exist anymore.”

You nod again. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

He frowns. “Say it back. We're not in a Star Wars movie.”

That draws a chuckle out of you. You tilt his chin up as you bend forward. The tip of your noses touching.

“I love you.”

You kiss him. His body reacts almost immediately, his hand finding its way up your arm to the back of your neck. The other squeezes the skin of your hips. He pulls on your thigh, coaxing you to sit on his lap. Your hands tangle through his hair. He humms into your mouth when you tug. He draws back slightly, you feel his racing breath on your face.

“I think you're going to have to shower again.” His nose nuzzles your ear, trailing down your jaw as his lips press brief kisses down the column of your neck. “With me, preferably.”

[ ]

not me writing kissing scenes as if im not touch-starved. this is a short one. i stayed up so late reading angst on ao3 and they're all along the lines of being the second choice to ada wong. i needed something to wash away the angst. very self-indulgent piece. i also slipped in the han solo/leia star wars reference. thank you for reading!

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #—ki writes 🍯

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httpwintersoldier · 6 months

Note

if you feel comfortable, can you write a one shot about Bucky and the reader (gender doesn’t matter) navigating intimacy after Bucky’s years with Hydra?

comfortable || bucky barnes smut one-shot

ᴄᴡ: ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ's ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ; sʟᴏᴡ sᴇx ᴛᴜʀɴs ɪɴᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ sᴇx

Bucky loved you beyond words could describe, but he was a tormented individual, to no one's disbelief.

But you were patient with him - and that killed him. He knew you wanted to have walks in public while holding his hand, but he was too afraid someone was keeping track of him. He knew you wanted to go to the beach and have fun, but he knew people would stare at his arm and eventually come up to him. And most of all, Bucky knew you wanted him to fuck you. He knew from the way you stared at his hands and thighs, from the way you'd shiver when his hand brushed against a less-than-appropriate way, and the way you'd tense up when his morning wood pressed against your ass.

But it had been too long, and it was a situation that would leave him too vulnerable - plus, the super soldier wasn't even sure he could still do it properly.

The man had made small attempts over the couple months you had been together, however. He would pull you onto his lap, bring your body closer to his while lying in bed and going behind you and pressing hus body against yours. But before you could get too far, he would back out entirely.

It would leave him with a painful boner that he would have to take care of in the shower, while it only left you confused and uncertain.

The first few downs you assumed it was nervousness, but as time passed you became more insecure, and so you voiced your concerns carefully, afraid that the relationship would deteriorate because of this.

"Uh, hey Buck?" You called from the door of his bedroom

He turned the wheely chair around to face you.

"Yeah, doll?"

The nickname alone said with that deep, intimidating voice of his, sent a tingle all over your body.

"Listen uh... Do you think I'm hot?"

You basically had to rip the question out of yourself. Bucky's eyes widened and his face got a bit of a blush mostly hidden by his beard.

The man instantly stood up and walked to you, his hands carefully holding your hips.

"Princess I- of course! Of course I do!" The soldier stopped to press a kiss to your cheek "Where is this coming from?" He asked, searching for something in your eyes as he furrowed his brows.

"Then do I kiss badly? Or do you just... not like the way I touch you?"

Bucky's blush grew intense and he chuckled nervously.

"Y/N, what's going on?"

You took a deep breath and bit your lip, looking at the ground as you collected your thoughts.

"Why..." the words were caught in your throat, a little afraid of the response, but you were too deep to back out now, knowing Bucky wouldn't just drop it "Why don't we have sex? I mean, we've been dating for a while now, did I do something?"

Bucky's eyes became docile, and his face softened.

"Oh, princess..." He said, cupping your face softly as he pressed a kiss onto your lips and caressed your cheeks with his thumbs "I'm sorry I made you feel like that. Really, I am. It's got nothing to do with you, trust me, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you."

The little comment had your face feeling hot and you tried (and failed) to supress the little smile that crept on your lips.

You looked into his eyes, hoping for him to continue the explanation. You could tell that it wasn't easy for him, so you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you on the bed, waiting patiently for him to feel comfortable. You wanted him to know he didn't need to rush, that you'd wait and listen.

After a couple of seconds he sighed and looked into your eyes, a mix of sadness, sorrow, longing and fear painted on his face.

"My love... I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, but I... it's- it's been a long time. It takes me a little longer to connect to and trust people, I've told you this. But physical contact is even harder, I'm not exactly used to contact other than violence. I don't know what I like anymore, I don't know if I can properly do the things you like - shit, I don't even know if I could, you know, perform well."

You smiled softly, bringing his stressed face to look at you. One of your hands caressed his non-vibranium hand.

"Bucky... I wish you would've told me this earlier. We can start slowly and take our time. Tell each other what we enjoy and what we don't, and we can stop whenever. That's part of a relationship, okay? Does that sound good to you?"

The Sargeant smiled shyly, a beautiful smile that he seldom showed but you loved oh so much, and nodded.

"Sounds great, doll."

"But you have to promise to tell me if you feel uncomfortable, please. I don't care if you think I feel good and don't want to stop me, this is about you as well, okay?"

The man smiled wider at the way you could read him perfectly and prevent something he would 100% do.

"I promise."

You straddled his lap and enveloped him in a hug, loving the way his big arms wrapped around you. When you pulled away from the hug, you cupped his face and placed a loving kiss onto his lips.

Bucky chased your lips, making the kiss a little deeper and perverted.

"How about we begin the project now?" He asked with a smile bringing his hands to caress your hips.

You could feel a tent forming under you, and you guessed Bucky really wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to fuck you.

"Sounds good..."

Bucky was hungry for you, but he took it slow, as you did. His hands discreetly moved down to your ass, grabbing it and pulling your body closer so your crotch was directly on top of his very evident boner.

You moaned, knowing the vocal confirmation would please Bucky - and it did. The soldier smiled into the kiss and deepened it.

Your hands were tangled in his hair, caressing it and tugging on it softly. The man mimicked your noises into the kiss as well, his hands grabbing your ass in a rough yet pleasurable way.

You grinded down on his boner, your moaning increasing and his breathing quickening as you felt his hardened lenght rub between your folds.

You pulled away, feeling hot, overwhelmed and needy. You were looking at him with big eyes and plump lips from his small bites.

"It's okay if you don't want to go all the way." You said, secretly hoping he would continue.

Bucky kissed your neck sloppily, and then the spot under your ear.

"I want to fuck you dumb against every surface of this house." He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You only responded by connecting your lips in a hungry, animalistic kiss, trying your best to undo his jeans with one hand. You slipped your hand inside his boxers, feeling how hard he was and the wet spot from the leaking precum.

"Please... Don't tease me. I'm not lasting." The soldier pleaded, soft eyes looking at you as he caressed your hair.

You placed your hand on his chest and slowly pushed him down on the bed.

"Let me take care of you, Buck." You said enticingly, as you knelt between his legs.

You pulled down his pants and underwear just enough so his cock would spring out. Your hands caressed his thighs as you kissed around his pelvic bone, Bucky's hand tangling in your hair.

When you finally gripped his cock and placed his tip on your lips, a satisfied and desperate grunt left his lips.

You bobbed your head up and down his lenght, your hand following, taking more and more of him each time.

Bucky's tip abused the back of your throat, and his grip on your hair tightened slightly.

"Y/N shit- I wanna fuck you-" He pleaded, looking down into your eyes.

Bucky held your face and brought you up to connect your lips, gripping your hips to flip you two around, but you stopped him.

"I'm taking care of you." You said, kissing his neck.

Your boyfriend's grip on you softened. You removed your bottoms, earning a groan from him, and straddled the man again. You then grabbed his cock and aligned it with your entrance.

Bucky moaned lowly and his eyes darkened when he watched you sink down on his cock.

The man tugged on your shirt and you removed it, then feeling the cold metal of his hand brush past your sensitive nipples.

"So beautiful..." He muttered under his breath.

You supported yourself by placing your hands on his chest, the sound of your ass hitting against him filling the room along with your noises.

"Y/N- I don't know how much longer I can last..." Bucky said, mouth hung open and eyes shut.

"Cum in me baby, come on, fill me up..." You whined, your eyes clouded with darkness and lust that sent Bucky over the moon.

His grip on your ass tightened as he thrust up into you and brought your body down with force, hitting spots you thought impossible, making you bordeline scream in pleasure.

It wasn't long before he buried his cock deep in you with one last thrust, covering your walls with his cum.

Small mewls left your mouth as you felt him.

You got off of him and fell by his side breathless.

"My turn to make you feel good..."

Before you could protest, his head was between your legs eating you out, uncaring about the cum leaking out of you.

"Still got it." Bucky said with a shit eating grin as he felt you grip his hair.

"Shut up..." You replied breathlessly.

Bucky kept sucking and licking your folds and clit, his thick, vibranium fingers finding your entrance.

You were already close from his cock, and, eating you out like that, it didn't take long before you were cumming with a loud cry, incoherently trying to say his name.

When he laid beside you again, the man wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You pressed a wet kiss to his jaw and laid your head on his shoulder.

"You might regret doing that..." Bucky said smugly, referring to the previous activity.

"Why?" You asked with a pout, earning a smirk and a kiss from your boyfriend.

"Cause now I wanna make up for the 78 years I didn't have sex for."

#bucky #bucky smut #marvel #bucky fanfic #bucky reader insert #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes smut #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n

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yamujiburo · 7 months

Note

I think about Deliah/Jessie/James poly so much dude. Hanamusashipping and Rocketshipping are both phenomenal in their own ways, so I think it's a fun concept to combine the two! You have fully convinced me that Deliah is a lesbian, especially with the whole "turned down *hundreds* of men" like my goodness! Wonder what got her into a relationship with Ash's dad... there's potential for angst there but I can't bring myself to put that on her. But let me propose a concept: Queerplatonic James and Deliah. I would love to see more lil comics and stuff of them together running Deliah's restaurant (which... do we know what the name of that is?), just being remarkably on the same wavelength with aesthetics, food prep, all that stuff. They'd be such cuties! I think it'd be sweet for the two of them to have another person to open up towards about their pasts and insecurities and stuff. James has had to let go of pokemon he cared for a lot (so has Jessie of course, but tbh I can only recall Arbok and Dustox, while James let go of at least Weezing, Chimeco, and Cacnea? Does Growlie count too? I'm not sure... Mimikyu and Mareanie are a lil different since they hang out with Bewear and Stufful, and the whole Alola bit of Journeys emphasized that TR visits them). But he can empathize a lot with how Deliah does support Ash's travels, but at the same time feels guilty for not being "enough" for him, y'know? James had to let Chimeco stay with his grandparents because it was just far too sickly, and Gardenia was able to see potential in Cacnea that James knew he couldn't bring out as much as he tried. But he doesn't doubt that his pokemon know he loved them dearly, and they all wish each other the best uwu. There's just a lot of cute fun for the dynamic. Jessie goes from being unlucky in love to getting *two* wonderful partners. Ash gets a second step-dad, and it's the other guy who tried to kidnap his pet mouse lmao. Ash understanding James' bottlecap collection because it's kinda like his collection of gym badges, or the two of them making a whole powerpoint to show Deliah evidence that Jessies' contest and performance personas are still her. Ash, Pikachu, and Meowth seeing James, Jessie, and Deliah all cozy on the couch, and they all just look at each other like "ew" before running in and interrupting the moment™.

YAAAA this is so cute! Delia and James would have a really fun dynamic. I unfortunately have not done as much with them as I'd like to (i haven't done as much with this au as i'd like to in general lol) but whenever I think about potential ideas or situations, I always imagine them being there for one another and being able to tell each other anything~

Oh and the restaurant is canonically called Masara House (or in english Pallet House)

#ask yam

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hitoshiyoshi · 1 year

Text

bunnies can moo? | amajiki tamaki

synopsis ↬ mirio's bunny tamaki needs help with his heat

warnings ↬ hybrids, reader is a cow!hybrid, tamaki is a bunny!hybrid, nejire is the reader's owner, mirio is tamaki's owner, mirio and nejire are both pro-heroes, i made the reader chubby because fuck it why not, however some parts I might describe body shape vaguely, reader is literally treated like a pet, some nejire x reader but you can skip over that if you'd like, collars, thigh-riding, some mentions of insecurities, reader says 'moo' sometimes, reader is innocent and a bit dumb, breeding k-nk, or-l (receiving), unprotected s-x, milk but no milking, lactation(?), mentions of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy, a lot of c-mming scenes, just a disclaimer i know nothing about the heat cycles of bunnies and cows, all i know is what i googled, I'm sorry if this sounds crap or if there are typos, this exhausted me so much, let me know if I’ve missed anything :)

pairings ↬ bunny-hybrid!amajiki tamaki x cow-hybrid!fem!chubby!reader

word count ↬ 5.5k

fun fact ↬ did you know that bunny babies are called kits/kittens ? 🐰

Nejire anxiously ran her fingers through her hair as she listened intently to Mirio over the phone. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to fathom some of the nonsensical words that left his lips. When her turn to speak came, she stumbled over her words. Desperately trying to find coherent sentences as her feet tapped against the flooring of her apartment. Finally, piecing her string of words together, she said:

"This month's been the worst, Mirio," She tensed for a bit and exhaled before deciding to continue. "I feel so bad... There's nothing I can do to help her."

She peered behind and searched the room, trying to see if you were sneakingly eavesdropping on their conversation. She knew you all too well; whenever you realized how stressed she was, you would always try to cheer her up. In the worst situation, you would mirror her emotions. Nejire knew the last thing you needed right now was more stress. Mirio hummed in a concerned tone; he sympathized with her as he was enduring the same predicament.

"I know how you feel," Nejire calms briefly, at least she has someone that could understand her. "My Tamaki is going through the same problem." His throat hitched over the last word.

"I don't know what to do. She's been following me everywhere I go... I don't wanna be rude, it's not her fault," Nejire's palm rested on her forehead. As the seconds passed, she'd grown more upset.

Indeed, you had been attached to her hip since the very start of your torturous heat. Today was no exception; Nejire sat in the living room with her back facing you. Only a few feet away, you stood and listened in to her conversation. You hurried downstairs before she could see you, clear essence dripping down your bare and plump thighs. Earlier, you stripped out of your bottoms and panties; your skin felt so hot and icky, it was unbearable.

She was the only sense of relief you had. Your previous heats were manageable; the feeling of Nejire's skin against yours seemed to calm you enough. Yet, for the past few days, it's been different.

'Embarrassed' was the wrong word to describe how she felt during the start of your heat. It came so suddenly, the same day you two visited Taishiro and his bull, Kirishima. You kept grasping onto him, trying to coerce him into mounting you in the middle of Taishiro's office. Nejire quickly pulled you off before the redhead complied, and he certainly would have.

As you two were leaving, you must've caught the attention of another hybrid. This time, a blonde-haired hawk with the brightest crimson wings who wanted to approach you, before she shooed him away

At home, there was not much of an improvement. Somehow, traces of your wetness would leak from your cunt and drip onto nearly every fabric of the home. Nejire's already changed your bedsheets twice and cleaned the mess from the couch each time you sat. Always complaining that wearing clothes makes you feel "too sticky and warm!" whenever she would scold you.

"Just have some patience," Mirio coos over the phone. "I'm sure it'll be over soon. I've been busy trying to find Tamaki a new partner, but he doesn't like the ones I show him. I tried using toys once, but he hates them. He's gotten so stressed, won't even let me tend to him."

"Oh, poor Tamaki..."

"Yeah... You know, you could always try that with (Y/N). Using toys or finding her a mate. She's such a cute doll, it won't be hard."

"I don't know if a mate is a good idea... I'll consider using some toys on her, though. Maybe that will help..." Nejire pauses on the phone, staring out into space while in deep thought.

"Hmm... a mate?" Mirio chuckles to himself quietly before continuing. "My Tamaki really needs one right now. Why don't we kill two birds with one stone? C'mon, it'll be convenient for both of us..!"

"You mean... make them mates?" Nejire lets out a soft gasp at the thought, startling herself. "But—But they aren't the same... Is that even okay?"

"Don't stress over it. Different hybrids do it all the time," Mirio says, a little too confident and comfortable for Nejire's liking.

Hearing your whimpers behind her, Nejire turns to stare at you. Her eyes widen at your state: clutching the lower half of your body as your slick coats your inner thighs. You stared at Nejire with puppy eyes, expecting her to fix your problem. She already knew what your actions meant, as you two have been through this ordeal numerous times. She shifted in her seat on the couch, stuttering over her words to a confused Mirio.

"Oh—Oh, sorry! I gotta go. Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?" Nejire exchanges her 'goodbyes' with him and quickly hangs up. "What's the matter, babydoll? Pain?"

"Moo..." You say while nodding. Your heavy head soon falls, staring at the ground before Nejire's soft voice calls to you.

"C'mere," She pats a free space on her thighs and coaxes you to her.

You move, taking a few cautious steps toward the couch and stopping once you are in front of her. Still staring down, this time at her lap, your hold on your tummy eases for a bit. She pats her exposed thighs again and looks up at you, ready for you to sit. Nejire seems a bit saddened and confused when you remain still.

"You want me to sit?” You ask, to which she nods. “But— What if I’m too heavy?”

“Don’t say that, princess. You're perfect,” She holds your waist and ushers you to her lap, making you sit over one of her thighs while facing her.

Your hands instinctively more to wrap around her neck as Nejire beams at you with bright and welcoming eyes. "i know what you want," she coos once feeling your warmth pressing deeply into her thigh. Her hands move to lock around your hips, holding you still while gently rocking you against her skin. One of them moves to your upper back, caressing it while you nuzzle into her neck. The other grazed down to your ass, cupping your full flesh in her palms.

"Hah~..!" Mewling into her ear and rolling your hips softly into her thigh. Nejire smiled to herself as she helped to guide the movement of your body, not minding that her thigh was covered in your mess. Her thigh softly bucked upwards, pressing your swollen clit deeper and relishing at your needy whimpers.

"Did that feel good?" Neijire mumbles quietly yet loud enough for you to hear. You could only respond with a soft moan, rocking your hips back and forth into her skin for some relief. "Yeah? You're such a cutie,"

Her hand moved from your back to gently caress your swooshing tail. Stroking and tugging at it lightly, the way you always enjoyed it. With every pass along her thigh, a warmth pooled in your lower region. Walls twitching as you rubbed on her body, your dripping slick lubed up your cunt. Desperate for more friction, your hips quickened their pace with Nejire's firm hold aiding you.

Rutting your clit against her and panting, she recognized the familiar hitching of your voice. The same sounds she'd been hearing since morning. "gonna cum soon, doll?" She said, relishing in the sweet wet sounds of your pussy on her legs. Her knee bucked into you once more, making you quiver and gasp. Both hands returned to cup your ass as she coaxed your body nearer to a climax.

Feeling you twitch on her skin, she softly laughed to herself. Nejire knew what would happen next, she'd been studying your movements after every heat. Soon, you stilled in her hold before pressing yourself into her with your nails digging into her skin. You released one final moan before your muscles soon quivered along with the frequent flicking of your tail. Your warm juices gushed onto her skin as you panted onto her neck.

"You made a mess... Hmm, you came faster than last time too," She says, staring down at the glistening clear nectar coating her thigh.

"Oh no... 'm sorry," Whispering while clinging to her arms, you lifted yourself up to peer down with her.

"It's okay, don't worry. But hey," Nejire pinches your chubby cheeks, forcing you to look up at her. "Tomorrow, I have a surprise coming... It'll make you feel all better again."

"Really? A surprise?" She smiles brightly seeing your tail flick back and forth. "What is it..?"

"Ah, I can't tell you, or else that'll ruin the surprise..." Unfazed by your pouting lips, she gives you a light tap on the nose. She's not sure whether her plans will work, but still, Nejire decides to stay hopeful. "Now, let's clean up. We've gotta get to bed soon."

Nejire tries to untangle your bodies from each other, except your hands refuse to move. She sighs, not in the mood to deal with any defiance until she feels you nuzzle closer into her neck.

"What's the matter?" She asks but is only met with incoherent whispers and your needy touches. Finally, it clicks in her head.

"Ah, I see... Wanna go again?"

Nejire takes a step back from you, making you twirl while examining your attire. Releasing a pleased hum, she asks if you like the clothes. You nod along and stare at yourself in the full-body mirror. It wasn't the best, but certainly different from the usual style you wear on special occasions. She takes a pink and gold collar and wraps it around your neck; your name is carved into the leather. A small silver cowbell is attached at the center, ringing with every movement of your head.

You wore a white long-sleeve shirt paired with a denim overall dress that flows past your thighs, stopping at your knees. It's loose on certain parts of your body, letting you roam and move freely.

Nejire thought it would've been best to have you all dolled up and make you feel special for this big day. But with Mirio's advice, she decided to go for something simple. He said, "Tamaki won't care about what she has on, that's not what matters," in a tone that made her second-guess agreeing to this meeting.

"I really didn't want to do this, babydoll," She murmured anxiously but seems to regret it once she sees you become nervous as well.

She went out of her way to avoid it until there wasn't much left for her to do.

The same night as Nejire's first phone call with Mirio, she ordered some toys that she thought would be enough — mostly vibrators and dildos in different sizes. She even paid for ultra-fast delivery, making it arrive the next day. You watched as she unboxed each of the toys, presenting them to you as if it was Christmas Day. A bubbling excitement to try out your new gifts seemed to overtake you that night.

It went well, but only for a few minutes.

After helping you strip out of your stuffy clothes, she makes you lie down on your bed. Nejire held up two toys, both vibrators, and asks which is your favorite. They’re quite large; at least bigger than you expected, since Nejire mentioned something about wanting to “start off slow.”

One in the shape of a bullet and fully colored in magenta. While the other was a pastel pink wand with the image of a rabbit carved into its plastic covering. You pointed to the wand; she smiled at your choice and placed the other toy away. There wasn’t any particular reason why you chose it, you just liked how it looked.

Nejire nestled herself to your side before turning on the wand, hovering it over the hood of your clit. Pressing it into your sex on the lowest setting seemed to be enough; the pulsating head sent waves of pleasure through your core. She glides the wand across your folds as wet sputtering noises echoed through the walls.

She leaned downward, her hot mouth enveloped around your hardened nipple. Suckling at the bud and making your moans grow louder in your bedroom. Nejire swears she’s read something online about milking cow hybrids on their heat; it makes them feel so much better. It was only to help you and nothing else, she repeats to herself as the rich and sweet taste of your milk coats her tongue.

With your approving mewls, she pulls her head back and watches as your white liquid cascades down your breast and onto your duvet. Perhaps it was the feeling of her tongue darting against your bud, trying to lap up any milk that came out. Or the feeling of the wand on your swollen clit, making your hips buck upwards desperately. Soon, you felt it fast approaching; ready to unwind and release on the pastel head, more than just once that night.

Until your hands cling onto Nejire again. It’s not your fault, you just need to touch something… anything. To feel, kiss, and hold. You did just that. It must’ve caught her by surprise — your lips pressing a warm kiss into her neck as your hands groped her breast. Nejire pulled away in an instant, just before you could climax.

Nejire tries to convince herself that she’s not into cowgirl pussy. Or maybe she is — no, she isn’t… right? Well, maybe she could try just once. No. No. She isn’t. She’s made you cum all those times, sullying her perfectly clean panties when reminiscing. But she swears on her life, she isn’t.

She mutters a soft “sorry…” before hightailing out of the room, so fast you couldn’t reach out to her in time. Pulled apart with so much force as you watch her leave, visibly confused and slightly pissed.

Nejire grabs her phone, reluctantly yet anxiously dialing Mirio’s number. Praying that he answers soon, which he does. She takes a deep breath and says, “alright, fine… let’s do it tomorrow,” to which he laughs and agrees.

That’s how you two ended up here.

Standing by the front door and waiting for Mirio to arrive, Nejire caresses your horns and strokes your ears. She believes she's trying to relax you, but she seems to be the only one nervous. Her hands touch your collar and smooth out any wrinkles in your clothing. Leaning down, she whispers countless times about how beautiful you are. It wasn't unusual for her to give you compliments, but with each affirmation, she seems to calm down.

Nejire jumps at the sound of the doorbell, startled by the noise. She curses under her breath before holding your hand and guiding you to the front door. Her hands seem to tremble as she unlocks it, not even bothering to ask who's at the door. She already knows, they've arrived exactly on time.

When she opens the door, a tall blonde man appears — the brightest smile is plastered across his face. He greets Nejire with an upbeat voice and pulls her into an embrace, which she more than happily returns. His muscular arms flex through his tight long sleeve shirt, you almost miss it with his blinding smile.

As soon as they separate, his round doll-like eyes land on you. His hands move to his hips, in a superman stance. He arches his back, leaning lower until you two are face-to-face with each other.

"So, you must be (Y/N)," His large palm pats your head, stroking your ears rougher than Nejire. "Aren't you the cutest?"

"...Thank you," You sheepishly say to the man, who doesn't appreciate your shyness.

"Oh, c'mon..." He pinches your round cheeks softly, "Don't you remember me? Lemillion? Say it with me... the future's gonna be..?"

"Moo..?"

"...Grim!" He says, but you remain unfazed which makes him a little disappointed. "That's what you're supposed to say, but don't worry... it's me, Mirio! I guess it's been a while since the last time we saw each other.”

“Yeah, about a year,” Nejire says while caressing your shoulder. “I don’t think she still remembers… hopefully,”

“It was when we rescued her from that awful farm," Mirio’s face grimaces in disgust before he continues. “From those terrible owners… I can’t believe it’s been a year, it still feels like yesterday.”

"The vet said it wasn't a good idea to bring it up again, Mirio," Nejire frantically says, not wanting to discuss your bad memories. “She doesn’t— uh, we’re starting to move on from that…”

"She doesn't seem too bothered, right?" Mirio glances at you once more but continues speaking, obviously not caring about your input. "She was so sick when we found her and the others, it's a miracle she survived."

"Yeah..." Nejire mumbles with glossy eyes, you swear it looks like she's holding back tears.

"You know," Mirio's deep blue eyes lock with you again. "You should be thankful for Nejire. She helped nurse you back to health and took you in from the shelter. She raised you well! Just perfect for my precious Tamaki!"

Tamaki? You try and peer behind Mirio's frame to see another man with indigo hair standing with his body towards a wall. You can't see his face too well, his large bunny ears cover his reddening cheeks. He's almost as tall as Mirio but his hunching back makes him seem smaller than he actually is.

"Tamaki's still as shy as ever,"

"Sorry, he's been like that since we got here..." Mirio stares back to examine Tamaki who sinks further into himself once feeling all the eyes on him.

He proceeds to ramble about finding Tamaki on the same farm; injured and walking around, a few feet away from the cowshed where you stayed with the other cows. Your previous owner never let any of you outside to graze or play around, so you never saw Tamaki or anyone else. Mirio proclaims this to be fate, perhaps it is as your eyes are transfixed on the bunny.

The way his ears flop down into his face is so... adorable? It makes your heart swell at his actions. Tamaki feels the same way about you too, except it's a different "swelling" — the aroma of your lingering heat travels through his lungs and shoots to his length with every breath. Tightening in his sweatpants into a noticeable bulge that he can't hide anymore, and no one bothers mentioning. You only notice the cute twitching of his nose at the scent.

"Well, come inside," Nejire steps back away from the door to let Mirio in. He grasps Tamaki’s arm and tugs him inside. “I prepared everything just as you asked.”

She walks them to your bedroom and opens the door for Mirio to see. Your bed is neatly made and covered in a fresh pink duvet — specifically used for this occasion. Various toys are left out on a small table; Nejire thought it would be best to have them, just in case. Mirio only laughed and said you would never need to use it. She warned you not to touch them, luckily there was no need since she’d brought you to another orgasm only a few hours prior. Quenching whatever needs you had for a short time.

“It looks perfect,” Mirio takes a step inside, only to glance around the room. “You did better than I thought you would,”

“Really? Does the design look alright? Are the bedsheets too thin? Is the room too cold?” She spews questions at Mirio, just like her usual behavior but he only responds with a deep chuckle.

“You worry too much, Nejire… Now,” He turns to Tamaki who still has his face aimed towards the ground with no interest in looking. “Why don’t we get started? We have a playdate with Yagi’s bunny tonight.”

“I think Tamaki’s getting excited already,” Nejire laughs to herself before leading you into the room.

“Are you, boy?” He scratches the back of Tamaki’s ears, making them twitch in surprise while his feet thump on the ground. Mirio nudges him into your bedroom and turns to you while saying, “now, take care of my precious sun,”

Nejire gives you a warm smile; a visible hint of concern covers her face as she says, “come and call us if you need anything.” Mirio winks at you and shuts the door.

“Hi..!” You say, maybe a little too excited. Your voice causes Tamaki to retreat further away from you.

“Hi…” Tamaki mumbles back, battling between trying to find somewhere to hide or devouring your scent.

Tamaki’s shoulder slumped inwards, too standoffish and cowardly. He wore a plain t-shirt and loose sweatpants, it seemed like he had something large inside? He stood awkwardly in your room, not knowing where to stand. He seemed too scared to look up and face you properly, he hadn’t even gotten a good look at you since he arrived.

“Are you okay? You look scared…” Concerned, you took a step closer to him but it only makes him tense. "You don't have to be scared of me. Do you want me to show you around my room? C'mon, I have some new toys..!"

You pointed over to the small table where an array of toys was laid out. Tamaki shyly looked up to glance at them; his eyes soon landed on a pink wand that was marked by your scent. Oh god, as if he needed more temptations to battle. With every passing second, trying to avoid you became impossible. Well, Nejire hasn't shown you around your friends often during your heat. It must be nice seeing a new face.

"Huh..?" Tamaki stares down at you, just briefly. You reach upwards and scratch at his ears. He releases a pretty loud groan and thumps his feet against the ground.

"Bunny, you're so adorable! Won't you play with me?" You take another step closer, and the scent of your heat engulfs his lungs.

"W- Wait, I can't..." He moves another step backward, making you move in his direction.

"What's wrong?" Your eyes scan over his body and notice the tent in his loose sweatpants. "Is it this? Does it hurt, bunny?" Pointing at the bulge, your palm soon instinctively moves to palm him through the fabric.

Tamaki's breath hitches, startled by your touch as he shudders at your hands on him. As a whine leaves his lips, you pull away, thinking that he is in pain, "'m sorry, did that hurt..?"

He sharply exhales and nods, "yeah..." while his rosy cheeks deepen in their color. Perhaps it was the way your hand curiously touched him, trying to explore his new territories. Or maybe it did "hurt"? He'd been “hurting” since he stepped into your home. Tamaki knew the perfect solution to take the pain away; he'd done it so many times before, why did he feel shy now? He seemed to accept your scent and the need to make his claim over you. It was only primal. It was only natural. With your lingering touches, you must want it too, he thought.

"Oh, I can get Mirio to help," You say while facing the direction of the door. Tamaki reaches out to hold you back from walking; his grip on your arm is tight, too desperate and needy.

"No, no. Please don't go," He pleads, giving you a strange expression.

"But you said you're in pain?"

"Yeah, I am, but—" He stares down and smiles to himself, still blushing. "You smell really good..."

"I do..?" Your eyes trail down to his, Tamaki's looking at your tummy — or at least that's what you think. His nose twitches again, inhaling you another time this evening.

You lean into Tamaki, breathing in his scent just as he did yours. Oh, how did you miss it? To any normal person, they would've been indifferent. But, to you, it was a sweet-smelling musk that sent a tingle to your core. You wanted more, your pupils dilated as you locked eyes with Tamaki. He smiled before reaching down to hold your hand. Until you feel warmth return to the pit of your stomach. Oh no, it was starting again.

Tamaki's hand intertwines with yours, afraid to let you go now that he senses your heat intensifying. You thought it would be fine for a few more hours, at least that's what Nejire claimed.

His other hand presses against your soft tummy, trailing down each dip and curve before stopping at your mound. Somehow he acts with a bit more confidence, too mesmerized by your scent now. With a strong need to touch, hold and feel. Anything to get close to your body. You need Nejire, now.

"I—I have to call Nejire... Oh no..." Not yet, not when you haven't gotten the chance to spend time with him. It seems like Tamaki has different plans in store for you.

"I can take care of it for you..." He kneels until he's at eye level with your heat and hikes up the hem of your skirt.

Marveling at the sight of your exposed heat, he peered up with glee. His nose and ears twitched simultaneously as Tamaki remained eager to sink in and devour you. Flattening his tongue, he takes long licks against your slick covered skin. His tongue moved from your inner thighs right to the warmth erupting in your core. Your hands instinctively grasped his indigo hair, trying to hold something but pushing him closer. Until you feel his nose rubbing against your clit, taking in your scent and wanting to melt into your body.

"T—Tama...Ki~" You mewled out as you felt him glide across your folds, collecting and tasting everything on his tongue. A new sensation you've never felt before; it was different from Nejire or any of the toys she'd used on you.

He happily maneuvered his warm muscle to your swollen clit. Darting his tongue across your bud, he feels your thighs tremble in his hands. Soon, Tamaki held your plump hips closer as he stopped you from falling. It didn't take long before you no longer want Nejire's help anymore. You'd forgotten all about her when you saw saliva and your juices covering Tamaki's chin. Attaching his lips to your bud, he suckled on the nub as wet sounds echoed through the room.

Bucking your hips against Tamaki’s tongue, you felt him slip his warm muscle past your folds. He trailed along your delicate skin, soon dipping the tip of his tongue inside your entrance, just briefly before slipping out. His lips curled into a sly smirk against your skin as you shuddered. Peering up, he becomes so enamored at your reactions — at every twitch your body makes and the not-so-soft yelps that messily escape through the grit of your teeth. His tongue soon finds your clit again, this time focusing deeper on your sex.

"O—Oh... Hah... Bunny— Slow down... Or 'm gonna..." You tried to say, instead stuttering over nearly every word as Tamaki quickened his movements on your clit. He didn't seem to care, his ears no longer hung low instead they protruded. Your walls clenched on his tongue as they gushed clear nectar that he soon greedily lapped up.

Panting, you tried to take a step away until his hands grip deeper into your skin. Tamaki's not done just yet, "where ya going, doll?" he dribbled past his lips, "i've gotta clean you up first." He licks your folds clean until only his saliva remains. With each pass of his tongue on your sensitive heat, you tremble softly.

When he's satisfied he pulls away, quickly standing and helping you sit on the end of your bed. Tamaki uses his hands to wipe any of your mess on his mouth, he blushes a deep pink as he realizes what he's just done.

"Oh fuck... I'm so sorry," He says with an earnest and genuine expression on his face. This time, Tamaki can stare at you — at least he doesn't seem too embarrassed. "I mean— You just looked really nice... You probably hate me, I'm sorry..."

"No, I don't," You offer him a warm smile that calms him. "Is that why you were so shy around me?" Tamaki nods to your question. "I—I really liked it too... Can we— Can we do it again?"

“Yeah,” Tamaki takes a few steps closer until he stands directly in front of you.

His hands fumble with the straps of your overall skirt, not used to the clothing. After a few tries, you help him unbuckle each strap and slip out of them. He helps you out of your shirt and carefully places your clothing neatly in your room. When he’s in front of you again, you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants. He stops you with his hand halting your movements.

“Can I touch?” You ask with puppy eyes but Tamaki isn’t fazed by you at all.

“No… don’t worry about me,” He says while gently nudging you on your back. “Wanna save it for later. But now, I just wanna taste you again…”

Tamaki’s hands softly caressed your hips, gently raising and spreading your legs before dipping into your inner thighs. He stared lovingly at your slick as a blush covered his cheeks again, proud at the sight. He lowered his head until he disappeared between your legs, holding them tightly to keep you still.

You can feel his hot and heavy breath against your skin. Tamaki’s lips trail soft kisses along your thighs, stopping once he’s arrived at your swollen clit again. He places one last kiss on your bud before using his flat tongue to lap at any essence that leaked from your entrance. Still sensitive from your orgasm, you quiver and moan with each touch on your clit.

Soon, he removes his tongue from your folds and eases up briefly. His middle finger glides along your slick, teasing your clit gently before plunging inside your warm entrance as you release a soft moan at the feeling. Your walls clench around his finger, sucking him deeper as he moved in and out. Tamaki’s hips buck into your mattress as he tried to build friction on his aching cock. Each roll of his hips matched the movement of his fingers, trying desperately to mimic as if he was actually fucking you.

Leaning down once again, you feel his tongue flick against your clit. Delicate yet sharp touches before he’s attached to it, suckling on your bud. Tamaki’s middle finger curls into your velvety walls, trying to find the spot that makes you clench around his fingers. As he does, your hands claw at his scalp, not too rough but enough for his hips to roll deeper into the plush mattress.

“Mmph~ Hah..! Tama—” You try to call his name, but a sudden warm feeling returns — a flood of ecstasy threatening to spill over again.

Your walls quiver around Tamaki’s finger as he slows his pace to help you cool down after your climax. “fu—fuck,” he says while slipping his finger out of your cunt. He’s too busy peeping down at the annoying tent inside his sweatpants. Of course, he wouldn’t let the opportunity pass. He placed his middle finger inside his mouth, although he knew your taste well, Tamaki suckles on his finger until it was glossy and only stained with his saliva.

“Fuck..!” He hisses under his breath when he’s done. Easing up off the mattress, you see it. A wet spot in the fabric of his pants, right over his clothed tip. The lightest damp patch stained your mattress sheets.

Tamaki’s eyebrows furrow and he seems agitated at the sight. It took you some time to realize as you were still dazed. He’s disappointed; what a waste of perfectly good seed. It’d been so long since he’d done this with someone, maybe he got a little carried away? God, he wanted it inside you so bad. He couldn’t wait any longer, or else it would’ve driven him mad. Tamaki needed to be inside, feel your walls on his cock just as they did with his fingers. If he got really lucky, you could cum on his shaft.

When you asked if he was alright, he simply chuckled and nodded, “yeah, yeah… even better since you tasted so good.” Tamaki eases up off the mattress, he fumbles with his shirt and sweats before throwing them on the ground — hastily and with no care. You follow and sit up just as he returns to his original position. Tamaki raises his hand to gently push you back onto the soft duvet until you stop him…

“Will you let me touch now?” You ask while flashing puppy eyes at Tamaki who can’t resist them.

He nods again, opening his arms as an invitation for you to come closer. Loosely holding onto one of your hands, Tamaki pulls you closer to him. He gazed away shyly as he heard your breath hitch in surprise. His mushroom tip, the same color as his pink cheeks, leaked his clear precum. Veins adorned his protruding shaft as it nestled high with patches of indigo hair covering the base.

Tamaki guides your hand to wrap around his length. He places his fingers over yours, helping you pump along his foreskin. It felt so uncomfortably stiff in your palms. Almost brimming with impatience despite speckles of white along his pink head. You cheekily traced your thumb along his oozing slit, to which Tamaki responds with a sharp gasp.

“Lay back down, doll,” He whispers but ushers you along impatiently. His hand replaces yours as he strokes his cock. Staring down at your heat while nestling in the space between your legs.

Soon, Tamaki presses his tip against the hood of your clit; he closes his eyes briefly and prepares as if it’s his first time. His tip prods your entrance as he enters you, hips easing closer inch by inch. Expletives leave his lips as he stretches you out; you fit so snugly and tight, coaxing him deeper inside you. He caresses along your sides before stopping at your hips and grasping your plump skin.

The sudden pressure invites pain through your entrance despite his skillful tongue making you climax. As he bottoms out — tip kissing your cervix — he holds himself up with one of his arms with the other still attached to your skin. Positioning himself so that you two are face-to-face. Tamaki smiles and stares down at you with unwavering and lovestruck eyes. Until he notices your furrowed eyebrows as you wince through your teeth.

Seeing this, his lips curl into a frown. Now, you're his mate — or you will be very soon, Tamaki hopes it's for life — and the only being of importance on his mind right now. When he asks what's wrong in a caring and tender voice, you trail your hand down to your lower stomach and say, "pain..." He presses his lips against yours, trying to shush any cries that leave your throat.

As a minute passes, he starts moving his kisses along your neck and chest to make you relax. Waiting until your face begins to soften, he starts to move and shifts backward before his hips connect with yours. Tamaki's kisses soon become harsh; suckles and nips into your skin leaves behind light bruises. His teeth sink into a small space on your neck, not too painful but enough for you to release a quiet gasp. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, urging him closer to your body until he nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. Tamaki's hips move languidly, gently rocking as his cock massages your velvety walls. His breath hitches in his throat as he moans; raspy and hushed, it tickles the hairs on your neck

His sweet touches on your body replaced any pain, soon making your tense muscles loosen. Placing his lips along your jaw, Tamaki tries desperately to hold off the primal urges in him wanting to devour you whole. The way you squeeze tight around his cock nearly makes him uncoil and spill his seed inside, completely swallowed by your slick warmth. His hips start to slow; lifting his head upwards as he slides out of you until only the head of his cock is inside. He peers down at your essence coating his cock, making his foreskin shine under the light of your bedroom.

Tamaki lets out an exasperated sigh, still pissed off from releasing it too early. He can't waste anything this time. You're too distracted by the sight of his ears sticking up that you notice him adjusting your legs too late. He tightly grasps the back of your thighs before pushing them up to your chest. "sh—shit...", he swears as he presses you further into the bedsheets. Burying deep inside you with every sharp thrust of his hips, Tamaki picks up his pace. His gasps became louder, incoherent whines that bounced off the walls of the room. His voice easily surpassed yours with the wave of ecstasy coursing through his shaft.

One of his hands moves from your legs and travels to your chest. Tamaki's palm gropes your breast, squeezing around your flesh until sweet, rich milk starts to flow from your nipple. He leans down, attaching his lips to your bud and suckling as your milk squirts out and onto his tongue. His other hand tweaks your next bud with two of his fingers making more of your milk spew out; the tiny amount that failed to touch his tongue dripped along your breast and onto your bedsheets. Darting across your nipple with the same rhythm of his hips, warmth returning to the core makes you call to him:

"Tama—ki..! Mmph~..." Stuttering out his name must have triggered something in him. As if you were coaxing him closer and accepting him as your mate. Plant his seed, to breed and mark his territory inside your aching walls.

His thrusts become sloppy, balls slapping onto your dripping cunt and soft ass. Slick trickles down your cheeks and splatters onto your sheets as your bodies melt together into one. Tamaki starts thinking of your belly even fuller with his kits and babies growing inside, your tits swollen and plump leaking with milk. The nonexistent images running through his mind made his hips pump into you with vigor. His face, flushed and covered by his wet hair, lifts up as his hands cage either side of your body. Your nails claw into his shoulders and litter his with red indents, marking him just as he did to you.

Tamaki presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. His body stills and then shudders over yours, he loudly grunts as his cock twitches inside your walls. Draining all of his seed and coating you in his scalding white cum. His grasp on your body tightens as if he's worried that you'll run away, he keeps a lock on your body. You give gentle pats on his back, trying to calm him while his chest rose and lowered heavily.

He catches his breath for a few brief moments, reluctant to pull away until he's done. But, like the energetic bunny he is, he can't seem to stay still. Tamaki slips out of you and covers his hand over your heat, careful not to make anything spill. He wraps his arm around your waist and gently turns you over until you're on your tummy with your ass up.

"What—What are you do—doing?" You croak, thighs quivering and weakened with your ass up. You can't kneel on the bed completely so you lay flat on your tummy and peer back at him.

"J—Just one more time..." Tamaki says, already sinking into your warm heat. "Please," Yet, he doesn't give you any time to answer.

His hips piston into you, smacking against your full ass while his hands find their way to your love handles. He grips your flesh in his palms and guides your ass to his cock, just right. "oh fuck—fuck... can't wait, babydoll... full with my— our kits... we'll—nngh... we'll be a big hap—happy family..." Tamaki pants while rambling over you, each thrust pushing you further into the mattress. "don't you want my—my cubs, doll? a big litter..."

Perhaps it was in the moment or your heat making you want more of him, "please... tamaki, i want it—fill me up..." You stutter over your words, but it pleases him. Your walls begin to flutter around his cock, pulsating and squeezing around him. You can't see it, too enamored by bliss, but you feel Tamaki's nails dig into your sides and hear the hiss of his teeth. The whites of his eyes flash briefly as they roll to the back of his head. Mouth agape, a painful whine flees his throat. He does as you ask, filling you up to the brim with more of his creamy cum.

As he calms from his high, he doesn't notice the trickle of his essence that leaves your entrance and runs down your thigh. "you're so perfect for me... i can't wait..." Tamaki's reluctant to pull out, not yet... Instead, he maneuvers your body until he can spoon you. Cock still nestled deep inside you, he wraps his arm around your side and tummy. Exhausted, his warm body lulls you to sleep.

The closing credits of their final movie flashed across the screen as Nejire and Mirio sat on the couch. Mirio's eyes drifted off as he yawned, taking a sip of his beer. Nejire's feet anxiously tapped against the mahogany flooring. Her hands would constantly play with her phone, too worried to actually use it besides checking the time.

It was getting late and the once loud noises made between you and Tamaki had died down quite a bit. She wasn't sure if she had heard anything for the past hour. Her eyes went to Mirio who seemed like he was close to passing out from exhaustion from waiting for Tamaki. Nejire cleared her throat, wanting to dump her racing thoughts, and said:

"Mirio," The blonde's gaze moved from the television screen to Nejire once hearing her call him. "Don't you think we should check on them now? It's getting really late and I'm a little worried..."

"I told you, there's nothing to worry about," He sets his nearly empty beer can on the coffee table. "But sure, we've gotta get going soon."

With little patience, Nejire stands from her seat and begins walking in the direction of your room. A drowsy Mirio follows behind her, stumbling along the way with the amount of beer in his system. It's oddly quiet, not that you were a loud person, but it made Nejire restless regardless of this.

As she approaches, Nejire notices the dim light coming from your room. She knocks on the door and calls your name. There's no response.

"Just open it," Mirio says bluntly while shrugging his shoulders.

Nejire hesitates as she twists open the doorknob, instead choosing to peer through a small gap. It’s a little dark, she doesn’t see you immediately but when she does, her heart melts.

You and Tamaki lay in bed together with bodies intertwined with him holding you in a protective embrace. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all?

“Ha… I’ll just call Yagi and cancel our plans,” Mirio laughs, joining Nejire as she stares.

She almost forgets that you’re both nude until she sees the cum-stained sheets. Squeaking in surprise, Nejire hurries backward and shuts the door lightly.

“She—She won’t get pregnant, right? Right?” Nejire frantically asks, not amused by Mirio’s calmness.

“I dunno… maybe? Maybe not? We’ll see in nine months.”

“Maybe?” Nejire bubbles with anxiety, praying that you’re not. “I thought you said it was fine!”

“Uh—” Mirio scratches the back of his neck with a guilty expression shown on his face. “That was a lie… I kinda got desperate. Tamaki was being a little difficult.”

“But—But we won’t have the time to take care of them…”

“Well, you should’ve thought about that before you agreed,” As Nejire was about to respond, he shushes her. “Shh, don’t raise your voice, it’ll be fine. Cheer up…” Mirio pats Nejire’s shoulders before taking a few steps away from the door.

“Where are you going?”

“You don’t mind if we sleep over, do you? Wouldn’t wanna disturb our new lovebirds…”

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#tw:hybrids #tw:breeding #tamaki x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #amajiki smut #amajiki x reader #tamaki smut #amajiki tamaki smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #mha x chubby reader #mha kinktober #amajiki fic #mha amajiki #mha tamaki

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qlossytbh · 24 days

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𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 after a long day working on a specific murder case, all you want is to do was fall asleep, next to your boyfriend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fluff fluff and more fluff (i know the title is suggestive but there is no filf here) established relationship, brief mention of insecurity (spencer’s side), general talk of murder and cases

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.4k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 started criminals minds and i fear this man is gonna push me down a rabbit hole. im half-way season two so this fic is kinda inspired on season 2 spence

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been a long day. To start off, you had been called in early at six in the morning, due to an emergency that required your presence. You spent all day talking to witnesses, finally being able to establish a profile of the serial killer you were all hunting down.

You were utterly exhausted. You hadn't been sleeping entirely well, being kept up by nightmares regarding the current case and since it had been an eventful day, not only were you physically tired but mentally as well. What you were all currently dealing with wasn't the most brightening topic, which caused your energy to be drained quickly. Your body begged for a nap and so did your brain.

Since the serial killer was attacking through the city of New York, you and the BAU team were being situated at some random hotel while you stayed the week in order to get some advances on the case. The end of your shift was intended to be around seven thirty, but Hotch asked you to stay behind and help JJ with a few files along with Morgan. Being the person and colleague you were, you agreed without protest.

Those extra two hours were even longer with the never ending teasing of Morgan. Which varied from anything to everything, you knew how Morgan was. Being one of the youngest members on the team, he called dibs on the big brother role, which included the full package deal. Teasing, over-protectiveness, all of it.

It was now ten PM as you walked into the hotel lobby with him and JJ, chatting endlessly about some irrelevant topic your head couldnt entirely latch onto. Your heels were pulsating and you desperately needed to stretch out your back since it was incredibly cramped due to being hunched over for so long. You grimaced as you put a hand on your lower-back.

"Don't tell me you're getting back problems. At your age?" Morgan started. You glared up at him.

"No, these hotel mattresses are utter crap and I slept in some weird position last night." You looked over at the secretary that was eyeing you, unamused. You winced, feeling embarrassment seep into your chest as Morgan and JJ snickered quietly beside you. You smiled awkwardly and waved politely.

"Looks like someone's past their bedtime" He said patting your head. You glared and swatted his hand away.

"I'm not gonna even fight you on that since all I want to do right now is sleep." JJ checked her watch and elbowed Morgans side.

"We should probably go get some rest too," She stated, pointing her head in the opposite direction of the lobby. The room distribution had been messed up upon arrival, leaving half of the team on the left side of the building and the others on the right. "You need Morgan to walk you to your room?"

"I think I can make it to the second floor," You shook your head, laughing to yourself. "But thanks tough guy. Besides, Reids probably still up waiting for me."

They nodded to themselves and with one final goodbye, headed off to their rooms in the other direction. You turned and made your way to the elevator. Once inside, you closed your eyes and sighed heavily. Your head was pounding and your legs desperately begged you to stop moving them.

The elevator came to a stop and you pushed yourself off the wall, waiting for it to open. Once it did, the eerie setting of the empty hallways settled in. Of course your job was bound to leave you with an unsettling feeling of being alone, but you weren't going to ever live down letting Morgan walk you to your room. You quickly made your way to the door of the hotel room you shared with Spencer, slipping the keycard out your back pocket and opening the door.

Once inside, you slid off the heavy coat that hung on your shoulders and hung it on the rack near the door. You heard the sheets shuffling in the room. "Y/N?"

"Hey Spence," You said, walked into the hallway and leaning against the wall that pointed towards the room. "It's me."

You took a look at the sight in front of you and smiled happily, knowing only you had the pleasure of seeing Spencer like this. His back was propped up against the headboard, hairs flying across his forehead showing the contrast between his usual somewhat tamed hair. He had his glasses on and some book he had decided to read in his hand, allowing the small bulb of the nightstand lamp to give him some light to be able to see. You smiled his way tiredly as he looked over at you, setting his book down.

"You're back late," He stated. You let your head drop as you laughed.

"Me, JJ and Morgan were at those files longer than expected, I'm exhausted." You said. He patted the spot next to him.

"Then come sleep," You pushed yourself off the wall.

"I will, let me change and I'll be right with you,"

You turned and grabbed your cotton shorts and long sleeved shirt you usually used to sleep in. Some would debate the actual benefits of sleeping in shorts in New York winter were zero to none. Spencer had done so the first night you arrived, giving you all the reasons it wasn't beneficial and how likely you were to catch a cold. You fought back by explaining how you hated sleeping in long pants, you always had, no matter how cold it was. Besides, his body temperature was enough to heat up the whole bed, which was another beneficial reason to wearing shorts to sleep. Why avoid the cold when you had your very own personal human heater?

You looked at yourself in the mirror, failing to avoid the bags that were beginning to appear beneath your eyes. You quickly slipped off your turtleneck, sweater and jeans and put on your sleeping clothes. Once done, you left the bathroom, turning off the lights and closing the door behind you. As you made your way to Spencer's side of the bed, you pulled your hair out of the low bun it sat in.

When you began climbing into bed, Spencer threw the duvet cover backward, allowing you to climb in and rest yourself soundly between his legs, laying your head against his chest.

The comfortable surface of his sturdy yet soft chest was way more comfortable than the mattress, you just hoped you weren’t squishing him. The silence that surrounded the two of you was enough to put you to sleep in that very moment.

Spencer tossed his book onto the nightstand, slipping his glasses off his face as he quickly turned his attention to you. You placed your palms flat against his chest and rested on your chin, allowing yourself to look up at him with a tired smile.

"Hi." You said. He reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling down at you with his infamous dopey smile.

"Hi," He said back, smile growing wider. "Were those extra two hours hard to sit through?"

"Don't even," You groaned. "You were so lucky Hotch didn't grab you to help with those files. You also have no idea how jealous I am of the fact that you've been lying in bed since eight,"

He stared at you empathetically, letting his hand linger around your face, tracing patterns on your jaw while you looked up at him with big tired eyes. "Jealous of me? Being able to lay in these mattresses?"

You giggled. "Thats true, you're much more comfortable."

He let him thumb linger across your cheek, looking across your face lovingly. You closed your eyes and basked in the comfort of his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for over a year now. The two of you met when you became part of the BAU not long after he had started. Initially, you had gotten along so well in the begging due to how close the two of you were in age, but then it started shifting into something beyond that.

Every second spent with him would make you feel at peace. Working in the FBI had always felt so loud, but since you started working alongside Spencer, things became a little more quiet and less stressful. You loved spending time with him, and becoming best friends with him wasn't something that took long. You two were very similar after all. Before you knew it, you started seeing him outside of work, weekends, the majority of time was spent beside him.

It took a while for him to make a move, given since he wasn't the most socially outgoing person. It didn't take long for him to become your friend, but the second the two of you realized things were moving beyond a friendship, he'd become a rambling mess in the matter of seconds by just sharing a simple conversation with you. You found it extremely endearing realizing how much of an effect you had on him.

It took time but eventually, as your relationship began and you started spending time with each other in different ways, and getting to know each other on more of a romantic level. With time, he got more comfortable with himself and your growing relationship.

You gave him boost of confidence that no one else was able to cause. And slowly falling in love with him was probably one of the best things you've gone through.

Spencer leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips, savoring any and every second he could with you. You sighed happily into the kiss, sensing how all your muscles began resting at his touch, how your body began feeling featherlike.

You pulled away, pecking his lips two more times just for desperate measures. "I missed you."

He hummed, placing a small kiss on your forehead before allowing his hands to travel down the side of your ribcage and onto your back. You hummed lowly, letting your eyes flutter close as you let him trace small patterns on your back with his fingernails. Your body suddenly covered itself in goosebumps, feeling nothing but overwhelming pleasure seep into every muscle and joint in your body. It made your heart flutter and swell, feeling how light his fingers danced across your skin and how gentle he was with you.

It had taken a lot for Spencer to open up to physical touch. You knew there was a side of him that loved being connected to you through any sort of physical contact, wether it be holding his hands, a kiss on the cheek, linking your arms together, saying hi in the morning with a hug or a soft peck. But his insecurities in the beginning of the relationship prevented him from letting that side show.

With time and patience, and lots of reassurance on your side, physical contact with you began nearly as necessary as breathing to Spencer.

Spencer always enjoyed giving you back scratches. He loved how your body immediately fell into his when he dragged his fingers along your back. He sometimes grabbed your arm to himself and traced patterns across while you were watching movies or when you woke up. There won’t be a day he forgets to greet you at your desk before heading to his own, despite always trying to avoid being seen by Morgan, who’d tease him endlessly, which is ultimately why he decides to keep his relationship with you far away from your coworkers. And so do you.

As much as everyone knew you were happily together, it wouldn’t be the same having every interaction scrutinized in both of your workplaces.

Nevertheless, he’ll always bend over your slouched position on your desk chair and say hi. He’ll let his hand linger on your back and trace repetitive circles almost always while you talked to him. Even if it was just thirty seconds, your body responded incredibly well to his soft touches.

His back scratches was just what you needed. Spencer was extremely good at reading you, and he responded to your needs in a way no one else had ever managed to. He knew that you looked more than exhausted when you got to the hotel room.

Right now, with his hands trailing around your tired body and aching back, you could practically feel yourself purring. His hand travelled along your shirt, reaching up beneath it to scratch your back without the layer of fabric, knowing you loved it even more. When he felt your body deflate he chuckled softly to himself.

"This is nice," You mumbled quietly, sighing contently.

"Did you know that when someone cratches your back, your brain releases Serotonin?" He started. You looked up at him with a wide smile as his hand continued traveling along your back.

"No, I did not."

"It's a neurotransmitter that promotes positive feelings. Our skin is abundant with sensory receptors which are called mechanoreceptors. When stimulated, specifically by human touch, they send signals to the brain which triggers pleasurable sensations. It's kind of like a light therapeutic touch, some people even call it scratch therapy." His hands traveled mindlessly, along with his words as he gazed up at the ceiling.

"Its primary purpose is to enhance one's mood for the better since it mainly releases endorphins and serotonin, hormones that tend to fight off cortisol. It's also said to relieve muscle tension, since the repetitive motion stimulates the natural release of these mood-boosting hormones. Your muscles respond and alleviate all the discomfort and stiffness on their own."

"Most importantly, it mimics gestures of affection and care. This specific type of touch motivates a sense of connection which can foster trust and bonding. Most people turn to this form of therapy because of how soothing the sensation can be both mentally and physically." He looked down at you only to find you watching him with all the affection you could possibly find in yourself.

"So thats why you always scratch my back, huh?" You pointed a finger at him and he smiled down at you, shrugging.

"Maybe,"

Spencer rambling about anything and every topic you could bring up was about your favorite thing about him, because unlike many people who knew him, you actually listened and soaked up every single word he said. Hell, you learned more with him in the past year than the first five years of your adulthood.

Watching him talk, and sound so clever and smart while doing so was something you immediately loved about him.

"I love when you go all wikipedia on me," You kissed the corner of his jaw and positioned yourself sound against his chest. He let out a low laugh as one of his arms held you against his chest while the other continued its repetitive patters. "Don't you dare stop with this scratch therapy stuff, I was just starting to feel that one knot in my back disappear."

He kissed the crown of your head as you began slipping off into your deep sleep. "Wasnt going to."

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