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#as much as i would LOVE to be able to do that. as much as it is literally one of the reasons i started learning japanese.
mirkoluvs · 2 days
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★ MHA SMAU: DATING KATSUKI BAKUGO
notes: it’s been a minute… heyyy guys 😅
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liked by katskugo, urgirlpinky, manlykiri, ochochko, and others…
y/nstivites: he’s a lover boy the tough guy thing is an act
tagged: katskugo
katskugo: delete that caption
ochochko: AWWW so he really is just a softie 🥹
↳ katskugo: NO
↳ urgirlpinky: bros upset cause people think he’s nice 😭
↳ katskugo: stfu
mightoriya: it took him a while to pick those!! he wanted to make it special 😁
↳ katskugo: SHUT UP IT DIDNT
↳ y/nstivites: you do realize that’s a good thing right
↳ katskugo: it doesn’t sound like one
↳ y/nstivites: …
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liked by katskugo, ochochko, mightoriya, _denking, and others…
y/nstivites: my personal chef 🧑🏼‍🍳
tagged: katskugo
_denking: SO YOU CAN COOK YET LET ME STARVE???? @.katskugo
↳ katskugo: like i’d ever waste ingredients on you
↳ _denking: some friend you are.
↳ y/nstivites: it’s ok denki sneak into my dorm next time and i’ll get you a plate 😋
liked by _denking
↳ _denking: this is why ur my favorite y/n
↳ katskugo: if you’re cheating on me just say that
↳ y/nstivites: KATSUKI
↳ katskugo: yeah you’re right you wouldn’t be able to survive going from me to spark plug you’d die from the downgrade
↳ _denking: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM
↳ katskugo: you
satobakes: looks really good!
liked by y/nstivites, katskugo
↳ katskugo: thanks
liked by satobakes
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liked by y/nstivites, manlykiri, urgirlpinky, seroman, and others…
katskugo: 🖤💪🏻
tagged: y/nstivites
y/nstivites: this is misleading he made me add 10 extra reps to my normal workouts
urgirlpinky: you wanna be mysterious SOOO BAD
↳ katskugo: WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN
↳ urgirlpinky: would it kill you to post a happy normal kissy face sunshine rainbows couple picture
katskugo: it would
↳ y/nstivites: 🙁
liked by urgirlpinky
↳ katskugo: …
manlykiri: me when?
↳ katskugo: you never
↳ urgirlpinky: i’m sorry i screamed this is insane
↳ urgirlpinky: he is not your friend kiri this is opp behavior
↳ manlykiri: 😢
↳ _denking: it’s ok i got you bro
↳ seroman: ayo?
↳ katskugo: 😐
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liked by y/nstivites, urgirlpinky, jirouplugin, mightoriya, and others…
katskugo: the best part
tagged: y/nstivites
y/nstivites: KATSUKI NO WAY
liked by katskugo
y/nstivites: IM GONNA CRYYYY
liked by katskugo
y/nstivites: i love you so much 🥹🤍
liked by katskugo
↳ katskugo: i love you more baby
liked by y/nstivites
urgirlpinky: EVERYONE SCREENSHOT THIS IS HISTORY
liked by jirouplugin
↳ katskugo: SHUT UP???
↳ _denking: youre such a lover boy kacchan
↳ katskugo: sleep with one eye open tonight
urgirlpinky: literally the grumpy x sunshine troupe irl
ochochko: I SCREAMED OUT OF EXCITEMENT
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© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
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wonryllis · 2 days
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candy, you're like a drug (m) | sim jaeyun.
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PREVIEW. where jake teaches you how to blow him behind the bleachers just before his soccer practice, unable to resist the charm of you in a cheerleader outfit. well it's not like he has to resist you anymore, you are finally officially his girl.
FEATURING. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader(candy) from WATERMELON SUGAR . . this can absolutely be read as a standalone but i would still suggest giving the full fic a read, if you like this.
WORD COUNT. 3140 edited but don't come at me.
WARNINGS. SMUT MDNI!!!!! blowjob obviously, face fucking, dacryphilia, corruption kink, handjob, reader's a crybaby kinda, pussy rubbing but brief, mentions of eating pussy, voyeurism slightly, jake's mind is literally a museum of dirty thoughts about you. he's way too obsessed with you, he swears a lot and cums a lot, hand in hand. jake is real sweet trust. psst! sunghoon thrid wheeling oh. and that's all i think? idk if it's good i hope y'all like it!
★ YEONIE NOTES. this took so long im sorry guys, pls enjoy and leave comments and feedback i'd love to know your thoughts and yes im still open to doing more drabbles for them!
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cheerleader… not a bad idea, you could definitely make use of it
“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.
“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.
“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.
“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.
“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.
“let me just put this down f’ you,” taking off his varsity jacket immediately, he spreads two fold on the ground, pressing his hands on it to make sure it's cushioned enough for you. being glad of the fact that he hadn't taken the jacket off for the practice before you came to give him the surprise.
. .
“you okay baby? do your knees hurt too much?” he asks once it settles in that you are doing this here and right now. heart pounding against his ribs so hard, he feels it ringing in his ears. his eyes cast down to the place your knees meet the rough ground and he internally grimaces and scolds himself for letting your soft skin scrap against dirt like this.
you smile sweetly at his actions, moving onto the jacket and letting your knees rub against the same cloth you watched him wash just yesterday. his precious jacket that he always took extra care of.
“so? how do i do it?” jake’s eyes quiver, orbs darkening as the lust takes over. blood rushing down quick at the dirty insinuation behind the innocent words that leave your mouth. drunk on the way you already seem so into it.
“take it out first,” he tries not to falter and just moan his heart out when you already jump at pulling his pants and boxers down before he's even finished speaking. holding his breath while he watches you watch his cock slap against his lower abs and then reach out to gently grasp it. mouth instinctively slacking open when he twitches in your grip and slowly bringing him close. a wet smooch at the tip that makes his whole body shudder and release a thick glob of precum, confusing you if he just came, your eyes instantly shooting up to look at him to which he just nods his head telling you to go on. put it in your mouth. his gaze speaks, air dense with anticipation.
“go on baby⁠— fuckkkkk oh god,” fuck fuck fuck, it feels way too good, cock laying heavy against your hot tongue, the softness of your mouth inside feeling like a tight pouch of warmth engulfing him in the most pleasurable way possible.
“just s-suck on it like your lollies,” jake groans, uttering the words through his clenched teeth. just a minute into you trying to give him head and he already feels like busting a nut. god how long has he dreamt of this exact moment and how many times. how many dreadful nights of fisting his cock imagining it was your tiny warm mouth around him, sucking him hard and sloppy like you do with those watermelon lollipops all the damn time in front of him. those torturing times, oh he can't believe he survived it to actually know what it feels like to be inside your mouth.
his hair sticks to his forehead, feeling the sweat drip as he breathed hard with every experimental suck. hands reaching down to push the strands of hair that fall forwards away from your face. thumb caressing your the skin under your eyes as you look up and into his brown orbs. holding eye contact with a dazed doe look that drives him crazy. the touch of your small hands stroking what you can't seemingly fit inside, lips always coming back to suck on his tip, like slurping dripping candy. he felt crazed, insane, and lunatic for still craving so much more of you.
“yeah fuck candy, just like that,” he pants, head tilting back as he gasps for air, everything around him tuning out at the realization of having you on your knees for him.
“shit!” the sudden feeling of you gagging around him after trying to take him all in makes jake jerk forward in a shudder.
it doesn't take him another second to decide that, that's it. he can't control himself anymore and absolutely needs to fuck your mouth, push so deep into your throat it leaves the imprints of his cock and make you so cock drunk all you ever think about when you gulp is him him and just him.
“push my thighs if gets too much—” one of his hands thread into your hair in a makeshift half pony to hold your head firmly and the other squeezing below his tip hard to hold himself from nutting before he gets to the real thing, wanting to drag this out even though he knows sooner or later someone will come searching for him, noticing the quaterback’s absence the moment one pays a tad bit of attention.
jake has never been the one to skip practice and especially not for something indecent like this. being late is not in his veins and keeping his varsity duffle bag at the stark front of the bleachers; his all time habit, always eager to make his presence and determination known. so the fact that he can't be spotted anywhere in the field with his bag resting exactly where it is every time, is more than enough of a reason to have the whole team searching around for him. however, in all honesty, you being an exception to all of jake's rules(as it has always been) all he hopes for is not being caught no matter how much the thought of it arouses him. he can't let people see this pretty you. wanting to gatekeep you to the very last bits. hence, this blowjob is way more important, and practice and his team can just wait a few extra minutes.
he starts off slow at first, thrusting careful and steady, to let you adjust to it. ten, nine, eleven, eleven, trying to count sheep in his head not to lose his cool too quick. shit shit shit, it's okay, it's all good.
it works for a while, even if his counting is fucked over like him, it works for a short fleeting while. maybe a minute or two or three, he has no idea but it's too brief of a time to be called as holding back.
he takes one look at you. just one look, at the way you already seem to be struggling, drooling all around him with your doe eyes all wide and teary, a few drops slipping out with each thrust of him. you are a crybaby for sure and maybe it would've annoyed him if it were someone else but come on it's you. he already imagined you to be a crybaby and god did it turn him on beyond expectation, though he didn't think you'd actually be one, and he definitely never thought he'd love it so so much when you cried for him. eyelashes wet and batting at him, doing whatever it takes to keep your eyes open and trained on him.
if he knew it was because the first time you fucked, he asked you to keep your eyes on him and you thought he liked it when you did it, hence forcing your hooded eyes to stay on him right now.. jake would lose his mind into the depths of hell and into the sins of lust.
the whimper you let out when his cock hits the back of your throat makes him buck his hips forward once, and at realization of how you're struggling and yet not pushing him away because you want it just as much as him, his grip on your head tightens before he starts thrusting frantically like a madman. albeit, at the back of his subconscious he's still holding back, knowing you're not yet ready to handle his true lost self.
“i swear, you're trying to kill me,” his voice strains with the amount of moans and groans he held back all time to make sure people don't find him.
back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. jake's hips fall into a rhythm of their own as he swears out all the curses known to mankind at the back of his mind. feeling so good, it makes him question if all the sex he had until you was actually some real sex or just some otome simulation he played.
there's no way something as simple as this and something where he has to be sane enough to hold his demons in check could feel so damn ecstatic.
his eyes shut tight at the feeling of his orgasm creeping in quick. not wanting to overwhelm you by coming deep inside your throat, yet not being able to stop the frenzied thrusts: desperate and erratic. fucking you had him fighting demons but having your mouth on him also has him fight demons, though a level lower, but feeling like his life would be sucked out of him.
and if there's anyone who he'd actually let sucking his life out of him, it'd be you. one whine of his name and he'll fold to give you his cock anytime and anywhere.
“fuck candy, ‘m so close,” jake's strokes falter into sloppy movements when you suck in your lips to squeeze him tighter showing no signs of pushing at his thighs and just letting him hold your head in place and use you as he pleases.
just as he feels the first twinge of coming undone, jake quite literally forces himself out, gritting his teeth and holding his breath as he pulls away mumbling out a rough fuck while staggering in his steps.
“jerk me off, wanna finish on your face, wan to paint your pretty little cheeks and your cute little tongue with my cum,” he mutters, guiding one of your hands to his cock as one of his own moves to hold your jaw and squeeze your cheeks to keep your mouth open. thumb rubbing against your lower lips while he bites his own at your hands returning to stroke him like you did before. brows furrowing and heart thumping loud as his orgasm builds up again.
he's gonna cum so much and jake knows because it starts to hurt. and like the masochist he is, he heightens it by bringing his other hand to hold his cock over your small slick ones,”twist it like this under the head,” he says squeezing and moving his hands in twists to show you just how he likes it. and lord do you get it so well, twisting harshly just under the head like he said and then pulling at it. it's honestly a mysery to jake how he's lasted this long and not just cum in the first two minutes of you touching him. perhaps his experience comes to some use, but then even his experience can't help him from nutting in just merely twenty minutes. the time he so struggled to calculate just a couple seconds before he lets the pleasure take over and the hot spurts of cum shoot out on your tongue and all over your face.
“mhmmm fuck baby fuckkkk—” jake hisses, biting down on his lips hard as his whole body spasms with pleasure, ropes of cum spilling out the tip, pushing his hips in quick thrusts into your fist.
and even though jake has perhaps sworn a million times that he's not a voyeur, that he does not feel his entire being ascending into the holy sins at the prospect of being watched with you, especially anyone besides him, watching you, he swears he has sworn on it a good damn gazallion times. yet when he spots a boggled and overwhelmed sunghoon, gaping and gawking in the corner, the intrigue and hunger in his obscure gaze evident along with his obvious boner; jake feels a second orgasm coaxed out of him in another spurt of cum that lands directly on that spot on your lips he loves to rub his fingers over.
fuck. that's all jake can think of watching sunghoon realize he was caught and immediately rushing off. since when was that prick watching? he better not have gotten a look at your teary eyes and heard the little whines you let out.
he doesn't let it bother him too long though, he'll deal with it when he gets back to the field.
what he now wants to focus on is you and only you.
running his thumb over the splashes of cum and smearing them on your lips, inserting his fingers into your mouth and telling you to suck before he's pulling you up by your waist and holding you tight against him. his cock rubs against the fabric of your skirt, twitching with sensitivity at the touch but he pays it no mind. his own lips hovering over yours as he speaks in a whisper,”are you okay? did i hurt you somewhere?”
you shake your head in denial and jake heaves a sigh of relief, proceeding to tame your hair back to how it was before. palms caressing your head softly, and fingers threading through the strands all gentle and slow. not wanting this moment with you to end. his lips lock with yours in the midst of it as his hands fall down to your waist again. kissing with so much fervor and desperation, it makes you rub your thighs together to get some kind of a friction. and jake notices it for his hand had moved to play with the ends of your short skirt, knuckles loosely brushing against the back of your thighs that fidgeted every time he sucked on your tongue or nibbled on your lips.
“oh, my baby seems bothered,” pulling away to whisper it against your lips that chase his own for more.
“what do you want? tell me and i’ll give it to you,” jake grins, watching you struggle out of embarrassment,”come on candy, use your words,” it's so cute, should he just touch you or should he take his time cooing at your fumbling self.
“w- want yo—”
“well since you aren't gonna say it,” he picks up his jacket from the ground and brings it up to your face to wipe off his cum from your cheeks. pushing against the plump of your skin to make your lips pout out and one of your eyes close.
“want you to touch me too,” you whine.
“where baby? you gotta tell me,” he teased further, booping your nose before putting his jacket back on him.
“here,” jake’s breath hitches when you guide his hand down to touch you over your panties, the fabric so damn wet you might as well have cum untouched. the prospect of that being true turns him on beyond what's humanely possible. you cumming untouched while he fucked your mouth, god the thought of it makes him crazy. but thinking back on how sunghoon wandered in, it's better to leave it at this for now. can't have more people getting the opportunity to see you.
“here? my baby wants me to touch her pussy?” there's so much more he wants to say, but he knows if he says it now there's no way he won't be getting rock hard again and completely ditching practice.
his fingers press hard into your folds while he rubs around, his other hand squeezing your ass and his face buried in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he bites and nibbles on the skin there.
“i’m sorry candy, but you'll have to wait until after practice. want to take my time eating you out. want to make you cum at least three times,” and make you squirt, he wants to add but man does the thought of it make his dick twitch, speaking it out loud would just make him squirt a pump of cum.
he slips his fingers inside to gather your wetness, sliding two fingers between your folds before taking it out and putting them into his mouth,"fuck, love the way you taste,”he groans. his favorite candy in the world. his drug, candy.
jake spends another minute rubbing you over your slick panties and letting his other hand on your ass move all over and grope you wherever he can. he makes sure it's just enough to have you craving his touch the entire time you wait. feeling jealous over the thought that having you wait for him by the bleachers would give sunghoon a view of you too. and knowing his friend, he probably won't have any innocent thoughts about you after what he walked into.
“come on now let's go,” it takes a great deal of self constraint for jake to pull away but alas it will only be fruitful once he gets through practice and has all the time in the world to pleasure you.
he helps you fix your appearance and dusts off his jacket and pulls up his pants before he leads you back out into the field where everyone waited for him.
“wait for me here,” he says, bringing you to his bag where he takes off his ‘thisisneverthat’ shirt to put on his jersey with a smug grin lacing his lips. placing his jacket on your lap to cover your pretty legs, if he could he would just burrito you with a blanket and th— no sim that's creepy.
“I'll be back before you know it,” bending down to place a chaste kiss on lips and forehead, he promises. jogging away to the middle of the field and taking his position beside sunghoon. it feels like there's a spark of tension between them from what you catch, but perhaps you're just thinking too much, they're good friends aren't they?
TAGLIST. @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @jaklvbub @kwiwin @brachives @jayhoonvroom @haelahoops @aaa-sia @lovingvoidgoatee @txtlyn @jakehooni @mnxnii @rikisly @notevenheretbh1 @yunjinsbbg @pjsfvs @yizhoutv @enhyven @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy @aishigrey @wooziswife @citylightsdoll @yeonzzzn @istphanie @chaewonshoney @cha0thicpisces @laurradoesloveu @bambammtori @wonsbaer @ayyysweetcreature
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reysdriver · 3 days
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Keeping It Quiet | E.M.
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Eddie comes to visit you when everyone is sleeping... or so you thought — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff
warnings: suggestive content, making out, fear of getting caught, jokes about guns/getting shot
words: 1.7k
a/n: idgaf about timeline or continuity with the show when I do this series of oneshots, it's just kind of an alternate version of the show where Hopper is still here around the events of season 4 ig (also I LOVE this gif of joseph omg)
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It was late at night, but you weren’t sleeping. You were taking advantage of the quiet house and catching up on some reading that finally wasn’t for school. You laid with the book at the foot of your bed, and your feet dangling over your pile of stuffed animals right by your pillows. 
It was so comfortable, you forgot about the world around you. 
And you were only brought back by the terrifying sound of someone knocking on your window. It scared you right out of your haze, at least until you looked outside and realised who it was. 
Eddie was standing right outside your bedroom wall with a stupid grin on his face, and he was pointing to the windowsill, wordlessly asking you to let him in. 
After rolling your eyes and marking your spot in the book, you got up and opened the window for your boyfriend. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked, leaning over the separation to peck his lips quickly. 
“Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting.” He grunted, using the log you had placed under your window to climb in your room. “You’re not happy to see me?”
“You scared the hell out of me ‘cause you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”
“I didn’t know I was coming over until I was already in my van. I haven’t seen you in forever, plus I had something I wanted to show you.”
The last part was intriguing, but you still wanted to correct his dramatics. You’ve learned that if you didn’t act as the voice of reason sometimes, he would start believing his own exaggerations.
“It’s been two days since you last saw me.” And it didn’t take long for you to give in to whatever he was hiding. “But what is it that I have to see?” 
He let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down on the end of your bed. He looked up at you with fake sadness. “I should have known you would only like me for material things, Madonna.” 
“So what if I was a material girl? You’d still love me anyways.” 
He started speaking like he was in the school play, which he would never do. “It’s just sad—”
You jumped towards him to cover his mouth with your hand. As much as you loved his antics and would encourage it at any other time, it was all quiet in your house and you were petrified of waking your family. 
“Are you crazy?” You asked him in a hushed scold. 
He just nodded happily since he couldn’t speak with your hand still over his mouth. 
“If my dad hears you, he’ll burst into the room with a gun in his hand. You might be able to charm the pants off of me effortlessly, but I think you’d get shot if you tried to test your charisma on the chief of police.” 
You cautiously took your hand away from Eddie’s face while he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
“Stop looking at me like that and show me what you wanted me to see in the first place.” You told him, sternly but lovingly. 
“Wow, you really are the chief’s daughter.” He joked as he stood up and took off his leather jacket. 
You figured he was just making himself comfortable, but when he started taking off the t-shirt he was wearing underneath the coat, you wondered what was really going on. 
Then you saw it. 
On his right side, where his rib cage ends, there was a new tattoo. A flaming sword that you knew was based on his current—and favourite—Dungeons and Dragons campaign of his. 
He pointed to the pommel of the weapon, which was a heart shaped gemstone. 
“Did you see the end? It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, but I designed it while thinking of you.” He smiled at you, and you smiled back. “Do you like it?”
“I love it, Eds.” You answered sincerely. “When did you get it done?”
“Friday. Right after your dad picked you up from the mall.”
“Did it hurt?”
He shook his head as he gently pushed you back against your pillows, then positioned himself on top of you.
“Not as much as it hurts to be away from you.”
You had to stifle your own laugh at his corniness. As stupid as it was, you did feel kind of flattered by him at that moment. And that’s exactly why you let him kiss you, despite you being just a few decibels away from your sleeping father waking up and grounding you permanently for sneaking a boy in. 
But you pushed all your worries aside and let him press his luscious lips against yours. God, how you couldn’t get enough of that sensation. 
You loved how he kissed you just because he likes to kiss you, how he used flavoured chapstick so he could heal his chapped lips, and how he always tasted faintly of cigarettes and the lemon candies you got him hooked on. 
You loved all that almost as much as what came next. 
When he moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, and then your neck. He nipped the skin just lightly and then continued to work his magic. You had both noted another time just like this that your bodies must be made for each other, and this exact moment was perfect proof for that claim. 
“Oh, god, Eddie. You’re so good at this.” You praised, trying to keep your voice down. 
He mumbled an ‘mhm?’ against your throat. He was such a sucker for your affirmations. 
“Yeah. Just be careful not to leave a bruise.”
Eddie lifted his head up, causing your face to morph into a frown from the expression of pleasure just a second ago. 
“You don’t want little reminders of my love?” He asked, lips exaggeratedly  pouted. 
“Not when my family can see them, loverboy.”
He seemed satisfied with that response, returning his attention to you and practically attacking your neck with his kisses. The way his mouth was worshipping your neck damn near put you in a trance. It was so good that you didn’t even notice the soft knock at your door, nor the opening that followed it. 
When your younger sister called out your name softly, that’s when you realised the importance of not letting your guard down. You tried to push Eddie off of you as he hadn’t seen Eleven there yet, but he got up quickly once he did notice. 
You urged him to sit down and stay silent while you pulled El away from your bedroom and into the bathroom, all while your sister stared at you with a wide-eyed expression. 
Eleven was the first one to speak between you two. “Who was that in your room?”
“That was my friend.” You said, partially honest. He was your friend, he was just also more. “His name is Eddie.”
“What were you and Eddie doing?”
You racked your brain, trying to think of something believable to say that would get your sister off your back. You really should have prepared a lie before this, because it was proving to be more difficult than you would have thought; of course, you never really thought about your sister catching you making out with your shirtless boyfriend.
“We were playing.” You answered as confidently as possible. 
“Playing?” 
You nodded. “Yeah, you know when you and I play-fight, like wrestling? When Dad sometimes thinks we’re hurting each other but we’re really just having fun?”
“So you and Eddie were just having fun?”
“Mhm.” You ran a hand through her hair, feeling somewhat guilty about your lie. “Why? Were you worried about me?”
She didn’t seem fazed at all by your fingers combing through her hair, but her cheeks flooded with pink when you asked if she knocked on your door out of concern for you. 
“I heard you were awake and I wanted to know what you were doing.” Eleven told you. 
It really was nothing embarrassing, she’s just a shy girl. And now you felt less guilty about lying since you know she was just curious rather than upset. 
“Well, I was just playing with my friend. But, don’t tell Dad about Eddie, okay?”
“Why not?”
Another question you didn’t quite have an answer for. Luckily, you were quick enough on your toes that your little sister wouldn’t notice the nonsense spilling from your mouth. 
“You know Dad can be a fun sponge sometimes. Like when he spends an hour questioning your friends before you can hang out, or when he won’t let us turn the couch into a pillow fort. If he hears about Eddie, he won’t let us have fun together anymore, and I would be really sad if I couldn’t see my friend.”
She seemed to be eating your excuse up, knowing exactly what you meant.
“Okay. I won’t tell him.” She agreed. “I don’t want you to be sad.”
“And I don’t want you to be tired, little lady. So, now that you know what you wanted to learn, how about you go back to sleep, okay?”
“Okay, goodnight.”
She opened the slightly creaky bathroom door and headed back to her bedroom, hopefully to fall back asleep soon. 
“Goodnight, El. Sleep tight.” You called in a volume just above the whisper you were using just seconds before.
You stood in the bathroom alone after you heard your sister’s bedroom door close. For a minute, you just listened to everything around your house. The quiet wind blowing outside, the sounds of Eddie flipping through your books as he waited for you to come back, and best of all, not a peep from your father’s room. 
It was safe to return to Eddie in your bedroom and resume the fooling around from before. 
Once you silently pushed open your door, closed it again, and sat down next to your boyfriend on the corner of your bed, he pulled you onto his lap. 
“So, we’re in the clear now?” Eddie asked you. 
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can be any less careful than usual. That just proves my family can hear us, so let’s not be stupid.”
A flirty grin spread across Eddie’s face as he trailed his fingers under your shirt and up your sides. “Baby, I can’t promise anything. Stupid is my middle name.”
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cutielando · 2 days
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maiden win ~ lando norris
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Synopsis: Lando finally gets the win he deserves🧡
Words: 1.2k+
Other works: my masterlist
a/n: you guys cannot even understand how happy i am for my man right here. so deserved🧡🧡🧡
♡♡♡♡♡
You had felt something in your gut from the moment you had touched down in Miami with Lando. You had felt good about what was to come from the weekend.
Lando felt the same way, but seeing as the last time he felt that confident about his pace had been Russia in 2021, he didn’t want to jinx it.
The Sprint hadn’t quite gone the way he and the team had wanted. Being taken out before Turn 1 was always painful, especially when it wasn’t even your fault.
You couldn’t get the image of how down and sad he had seemed when he walked back to the garage, even more gutted when the Stewards fined him.
And then qualifying came and he didn’t manage to get on the front row, no matter how much he pushed the car on those medium compound tyres. 
Having to settle with starting P5 in the race when he knew what he could get out of the car had not been easy on him.
“I just wish things would have gone my way” he explained to you while you laid in bed in your shared hotel room, late at night before race day.
You sighed, nodding in understanding as you weaved your hands through his hair comfortingly. 
“You’ll show them how strong you are tomorrow. Now, more than ever, you need to have faith in the car, in your team and most importantly in yourself” you said, making Lando look at you with admiration.
“How do you always manage to calm me down?” he asked, which made you giggle and run a hand down his cheek lovingly.
“4 years and an engagement later” you joked, making him finally break out into a genuine laugh.
There were so many stolen moments from you guys because of the racing, you would often forget to just be with each other and let loose, forget about everything even for just a little while.
Lando has always stated that he wouldn’t be able to make it without you, claiming you were the only one that could help him unwind and completely disconnect from the races and the stress that came with it. Lately, the stress had got even worse than usual.
“I don’t think my time is coming anytime soon” he said after a couple of moments of comfortable silence between the two of you.
“Why do you think that?” you asked, your hands still running through his soft curly hair.
He shrugged, snuggling closer to your body and now resting his head against your chest.
“It feels like no matter how much progress we make or how many upgrades we bring, something just doesn’t click at the end of the day. It seems like nothing we do is good enough” he explained.
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You could only imagine what he felt like, working so hard with the team and feeling like nothing was paying off, you sympathized with your fiancé and the entire team. However, somewhere deep down in your heart, you knew his time was even closer than he thought.
His win was coming this weekend, your gut kept telling you.
“My love, you have to keep being positive. You’ve shown impressive pace the entire weekend, and what happened in the Sprint had nothing to do with you or how the car performed. I have a good feeling about the race tomorrow, so please just indulge me and have faith in yourself and in your team” you said, kissing his forehead at the end.
He didn’t say anything else but nodded, burying his face even deeper into your body. His eyes slowly started dropping as he enjoyed the feeling of your hands playing with his hair, the only thing on his mind was doing everything he can in the race so you and the team would be proud of him.
He needed it.
♡♡♡♡♡
Being in the garage while watching the Miami Grand Prix had to be deemed as a health hazard. From the precise moment the Safety Car was deployed and Lando was leading the race, having come in to swap his tyres, the entire garage was on their toes.
The tension in the air while watching the last laps was like nothing you had ever experienced, not in all the 4 years you have been with Lando and attended the majority of his races.
Mechanics were chewing on their fingers, pulling their hair or pacing around the garage. You were listening in on the radio as he talked to Will, your heart beating wildly in your chest and echoing in your ears.
The second you saw him cross that finish line and take the checkered flag in P1, you could literally not stop crying. The tears were freely and fully falling down your cheeks, your eyes soaking in the energy and celebrations that were happening all around you.
“Y/N, he did it!! He won!!!” Jon was the one who brought you back to reality when he ran to you and scooped you into his arms, laughing in disbelief.
“I can’t believe he actually did it” you said once Jon put you down, wiping the tears from your eyes to no avail because new ones were just taking their place.
Hugs were going all around the garage, everyone hugging the nearest person to them. Zak and Andrea pulled you into a shared hug, urgently prompting you to follow them to where Lando would be. 
At first you were apprehensive, preferring to wait for him at the garage, but you couldn’t deny the two men that were literally dragging you to Lando.
The moment you saw him coming towards you and the team, a whole new wave of tears starting falling down your cheeks, sobs racking through your body once he ran to you and scooped you into his arms, lifting you up over the barriers so he could spin you around.
“I fucking did it. I did it for you, baby” he exclaimed in your ear, making you laugh and nod, kissing every part of his body that you could reach from your position.
“I am so fucking proud of you. All the work you’ve done up until now has finally paid off. I love you so much and I am so proud of you for this” you said, kissing him hard when he finally put you down.
You didn’t care that he was sweaty at that moment, you didn’t care that he could barely catch his breath, you just needed him to know just how proud you were of him for what he had just done.
He certainly wasn’t complaining, squeezing your body against his like you would dissipate in the air if he let you go. The entire team was cheering and screaming all around you, which prompted you to finally pull away.
“Go and celebrate with them. You all deserve it” you said, unwrapping his arms from your waist and pushing him towards his team.
He leaned in to peck your lips once again quickly before he jumped to his team, being lifted and praised by every mechanic around him.
As you watched him interact with his team, some of them who were crying because of how proud they were of him, you realized how lucky you both were.
Lando was so loved, not only by you and his team but by the other drivers as well, who you could see were so happy to finally see him on the first step of the podium. 
The Miami Grand Prix was one to remember. The day the entire Formula 1 community came together to celebrate Lando Norris.
The winner of everyone’s heart.
The winner of Formula 1.
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remlionheart · 2 days
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NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡
♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.
ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ
‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚
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colonelarr0w · 3 days
Note
Can you write one where Astarion realizes that Tav is acting strangely because it's actually Orin and the actual Tav is kidnapped by her?? Thank you so much and I love your work!!
A/N - Oh my god I absolutely adore the trope of kidnapped lover being rescued (the parasites in me crave the angst). I hope you like this, I had a lot of fun writing it! So thank you @fanficlov-3-r <3
I Know You
Preview - "And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, '(Y/N) isn't amongst us.'"
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon BG3 violence
Word Count - 3.9k
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Astarion prided himself on his ability to have memorized everything about you, from how your nose scrunched when you saw something you disliked to how your eyes sparkled when you noticed him staring at you from across the fire. It was those little things that simply made you … well … you. 
Which was why he found it very offputting when he noticed your excessive alcohol intake while attending a Tiefling party. Yes, you liked to indulge in a glass of wine or two while you chatted happily with Astarion or any of your other companions – but never had he seen you cradle an entire bottle of wine to yourself and drink it in its entirety. 
But that behavior was only one of multiple that he had noticed throughout the night; you were dancing with any Tiefling who offered their hand, you seemed to stray away from him and the others throughout the night, and the smile you wore did not reach your eyes in the slightest. It seemed fake, similar to the smiles that Astarion had once flashed at you to get your clothes off. 
“Is it just me or does (Y/N) seem a little … off?” Shadowheart comments, her eyebrow raising as she watches you indulge another Tiefling in a drunken dance. You stumble over both your feet and his own, a detail that both she and Astarion narrow their eyes at. 
For an oh-so-grateful leader, you were being careless tonight. 
Astarion’s eyes follow those of Shadowheart’s, landing on you just as you are finishing a dance with your fifth Tiefling of the night. He bows to you shakily, and in return, you curtsy – another move that Astarion had never thought he would see you perform. 
“I must say that I agree with Shadowheart. Excuse me for a moment,” Astarion abandons his half-empty wine glass, sliding it across the bar. The bartender raises a brow at Astarion, but says nothing. 
You chuckle heartily as a Tiefling female approaches you, in her hands a sparkling glass of champagne. You take it from her the moment it’s offered, just about to bring it to your lips before a pale hand clasps over your shoulder. 
“Ah-ah darling, I think that’s enough with the drinking for one night,” Astarion says with a fanged smile, angling himself so that he’s able to pluck the champagne glass from your hands quickly. You turn to him, eyebrows pinched together in an expression that mixes frustration and shock – as if you had been caught doing something that you shouldn’t. 
“Come off Astarion, I can indulge if I so choose,” you retort quickly, fingers extending towards your glass. Astarion lifts his arm, the glass just barely out of your reach. “You are indulging tonight, are you not?”
He chuckles, his chest rumbling against your shoulder as his scarlet eyes rake over your figure. Something was wrong, it wasn’t just your general composure – it was everything down to the very way that you stood on your own two feet. 
“While that is true, I am watching what I indulge in,” Astarion says, already glancing at Shadowheart, who nods knowingly. She mumbles something inaudibly then to Gale, and soon a secret message is relayed over all of your companions. 
The Tiefling female had long since left your side, only adding to your annoyance that Astarion had come to your side. You turn sharply to face him, eyes narrowing at him. 
“And just explain to me why you thought it necessary to disrupt my fun?” you snap, glaring daggers into the vampire who stands in front of you. Astarion merely sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. His eyes flicker over you again, and it is in that moment that he realizes something … you were most certainly not you. 
And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, “(Y/N) isn’t amongst us.” 
“Because I know you (Y/N), and right now,” Astarion pauses only to yank you closer, lowering his lips to your ear. “You are not who you say that you are.”
You freeze in his arms, eyes flickering to look at him. The crease in your eyebrows vanishes, your expression of frustration replaced now by one of shock. “What are you on about?”
“Oh come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” Astarion growls, his grip over your wrist tightening, “I know (Y/N), and she would never indulge in such things of her own accord.”
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, not protesting as a very angered Astarion drags you out of the Tiefling party. He is quickly flanked by Shadowheart and the others, none of whom offer you looks of sympathy – if anything, they look just as angered as the vampire in front of you. 
The moment that your feet touch camp, your wrists and ankles are promptly tied by Karlach, who offers you no answers even as you demand to know what in the hells is going on. Astarion stands quietly at her side, his arms folded over his chest whilst his mind promptly races.
Where were you? Who was sitting in your place? Where the hells were you?
With a singular wave of his hand over your body, Gale reveals Orin to the others, then steps back and glares down his nose at her. In response, her lips only turn upward in a grin, one that sends a shiver down the spines of those that surround her. 
“Where is–”
“Oh please, save me the dramatics,” Orin says with a roll of her eyes, adjusting herself so that she sits comfortably. Her attention moves to Astarion, her smile widening at the sight of the expression that he wears. 
“You have five minutes to answer our questions before–”
Orin’s head tilts in Lae’zel’s direction, her eyes crinkling as her smile widens impossibly further. Her lips part, a delighted chuckle falling from her lips. “Before what? You kill me? If I die, (Y/N)’s location dies with me.”
In a flash of white and silver, the blade of a dagger is pressed against the skin of Orin’s neck, pressed down just hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. Astarion kneels in front of Orin, narrowed eyes glaring daggers into her as his lips pull back in an angered growl. 
“You will reveal (Y/N)’s location lest you want to end up a paled mess on the ground.” He was shocked by how much your disappearance had affected him – especially considering that he was supposed to be keeping his affection for you a secret from the others. 
There was a reason behind his secrecy, however, a reason that you had agreed with when he had first proposed the idea to you. It was for your safety, for your protection. But it seemed like even with that … he still couldn’t keep the one thing that kept him sane safe. 
Orin chuckles, leaning forward so that her nose just barely grazes his own. He can feel her breath as it fans over his face – it disgusts him. 
“Is that so?” Her head tilts, another delighted chuckle bubbling up her throat and spilling over her lips. Astarion pushes the blade further against her, ignoring the yells of warning delivered by the other members of the party. 
His eyes narrow, his eyebrows pinch together, and his expression hardens. Orin only chuckles again, sighing dreamily in a way that reminds Astarion of a hopelessly lovesick girl. Gods, what he would give to plunge the blade of his dagger into her neck. 
“Fine, but I hope you know I’m not yielding because of your … intimidation,” Orin murmurs, pouting childishly as Astarion pulls her to her feet, still glaring at her. He says nothing as he drags her past the others, not checking over his shoulder to see that the others have followed him.
< … >
Another chilled shiver runs up the length of your spine, using your vertebrae as a ladder. You turn uncomfortably onto your side, trying once again to tug your ankles from their shackles. All you’re met with is the sound of rattling metal. 
It had been a few hours … or perhaps even a few days since you last saw the others. You didn’t know – perhaps time worked differently when you were captured. 
The last you remembered, you were walking silently along a forest pathway with Astarion a few feet behind you. You were engrossed in the beauty of the willow trees that hung silently over you, their branches serving you the beautiful luxury of shade that covered you from the sun’s blaring rays. 
Just as you turned a corner in the forest, a cold hand that wasn’t Astarion’s clasped over your own, tugging you away into a forest patch. One good knock to the side of the head … and that was the last that you were able to clearly remember. 
When you awoke, your ankles were shackled to a wall and your wrists were bound with rope, rubbing uncomfortably against your skin and leaving behind angry red marks. 
Your body had been littered with marks; cuts, bruises, and gashes. At first, they hadn’t hurt you at all – but you blamed that entirely on your adrenaline. Now every cut burned, every bruise ached, and every gash felt as though it would never stop bleeding. 
Surely every vampiric creature within a 50-mile radius could smell your blood … especially considering how much of it lay in a disgusting puddle surrounding your body. 
A shaky breath escapes you, one that you surely hoped would be your last. Your teary eyes flicker around the cell that you’d been thrown into; the cell that lacked even so much as a window. You were completely disconnected from the outside world, and for a singular moment, you thought that maybe you had died. 
And maybe you were okay with that now … with dying. 
Even though for so long you had tried your hardest to protect everyone – practically throwing your life down on the line for the lives of your companions – being captured was making you realize something. 
Maybe they didn’t care about you nearly as much as you cared about them.
If they cared, they would be searching for you. If they cared, you wouldn’t be bleeding out in some dank old cell with no way to know what time of day it was. If they cared … they would prove it, wouldn’t they?
A choked sob claws its way up your throat, legs curling inward. You wrap your arms around them, hugging them against your chest as your body curls inward into a fetal position. 
They didn’t care. Not Gale, not Karlach, not Lae’zel, not Shadowheart. 
Not even Astarion.
Astarion …
After everything that you had done for him. You had spared him that morning while walking with Shadowheart. You had let him stay in your camp even though he spat venomous insults each time you interacted politely with him. Hells, you had even let the damn man feed on you. 
In exchange for your blood, he was letting you rot alone in a cell. 
So much for helping others, you think quietly to yourself, tears slipping down your cheeks as your lashes flutter shut. A gentle numbness spreads over you as if someone had draped a blanket over you. It felt nice. It felt safe. 
Your shoulders relax, your lips part. 
One gentle breath falls from your lips before all goes silent.
< … >
“Come on now, I’ve led you right to where she is! The least you can do is entertain a conversation,” Orin complains loudly, huffing childishly as Astarion continues shoving her forward. 
There was no lie to her words, she had led Astarion and the others to where she had thrown you – a dimly lit dungeon hallway that was only filled with the sounds of low groans and dripping water, but even those had become scarce the longer that they walked. 
“The only thing I’ll entertain is your demise,” Astarion bites out, though he desperately wishes that he had kept his mouth shut. Orin doesn’t fail to catch the tremble in his voice – the vulnerability that seeps from his words. 
Her lips curl, another delighted chuckle rumbling somewhere deep inside of her chest. Her eyes flicker to catch a glimpse of Astarion’s profile, her chuckle deepening as she notices the emotional turmoil sketched into his features. 
“I wonder what you will do to me when you realize that she’s–”
“Hush,” Astarion hisses, reaching down and yanking the bonds around Orin’s wrist. The rub of the rope against her skin is enough to silence her. “Not another word out of you, wench.”
Orin stifles the small whimper of pain that had threatened to fall from her lips, instead turning to the cell that they were nearing; your cell. 
At the sight of the metal bars and uneven stones, she giggles. Astarion passes her off to Shadowheart, ignoring the cleric’s protests as he approaches the cell. 
“Oh shit.”
The world seems to go completely silent at the sight that lies before Astarion’s eyes, a sight that he immediately wishes that he could forget. 
You lay on your side with your back facing the cell’s door, blood – your blood – surrounding you in a crimson puddle. The bits of skin that Astarion can see are littered with cuts and bruises, your legs covered in gashes that continue to drip with fresh blood. 
In any other situation, Astarion would have marveled at both the sight and smell of your blood … perhaps even allowed himself to indulge in it. 
But now?
Gods, he had never been more disgusted by any one sight or smell. 
“Astarion? What’s – oh my Gods,” Karlach raises a hand to her mouth, palm covering her lips as she gazes upon the same sight as Astarion. The others join her, and each of them falls silent. “You take … her … and get out of here.”
Shadowheart nods, shooting Orin a sharpened glare before tugging the shapeshifter back down the way that they had come, ignoring her yells of protests and the way that she struggles against the ropes that bind her wrists together. 
With one tug at the already worn-down metal, Karlach disconnects the bars of the cell. She steps inside, carefully approaching you before copying her previous actions and removing the shackles from around your ankles. 
“(Y/N)?” she murmurs down to you, lightly shaking your shoulder while simultaneously trying to be sure that she does not burn you – the last she wants is to add to your injuries. 
She’s pushed aside by Astarion, who kneels beside you and feels his breath hitch at the sight of your paled face. Your cheeks have lost their usual rosy color, replaced instead by a white that looked as though it could rival the color of his hair. 
“Shit,” is the only thing that he’s able to say properly before he scoops you into his arms. He shakes on his feet for a moment, the sudden weight in his arms debilitating his balance. He says nothing as he strides past the others, making a beeline for the exit.
< … >
The first thing that you feel is a dull ache, then followed by a wave of pain that has you shooting upright and promptly vomiting onto whatever surface happens to be beside you. The moment you’ve finished emptying your stomach, a piece of cloth is offered to you by a pale hand – a familiar one this time. 
Hesitantly, you take it, dabbing the cloth against your mouth before looking up to who had handed it to you. 
“Astarion?”
“That would be my name, yes darling,” Astarion responds, though his tone doesn’t hold his usual flirtatious lilt that you had grown so used to. No, he sounds exhausted … it made you wonder just how long he had sat at your bedside. 
Your eyes roam over him, taking note of the tiny, barely-there bags that rest beneath his eyes. For a man who cared so deeply about appearance, he surely looked as though he had let himself go … likely because of you.
As much as you wish to take him into your arms and comfort you, a fleeting thought passes through your mind — he had taken his sweet time in finding you. 
If the roles had been reversed, and it had been Astarion who was taken from you, you already knew that you would have searched Heaven and Earth trying to find him. No stone would have been left unturned, no witness left unspoken to … you would have stopped at nothing. 
But it felt as though Astarion hadn’t cared enough, if he had, you wouldn’t have been as badly wounded as you were. You wouldn’t have laid in that cell for as long as you have, not that you knew the length of time in which you had been missing anyway. 
Astarion’s head lifts at the sound of you rustling, body scooting back from him until your spine rests against the headboard of your bed. You lift your knees to your chest, hugging around them. 
“Darling?”
You remain silent, but you allow your eyes to raise to meet his awaiting gaze. He waits patiently, though you can’t help but feel as though he’s analyzing you.
“How long have I been gone?” you ask. Astarion pauses, scarlet eyes flickering away from you. He swallows, you can see the emotional turmoil that swims in his eyes. Answer me, you usher in your mind. 
“Orin wouldn’t tell us,” Astarion answers honestly, voice wavering as he recounts his angered questioning of the shapeshifter. She had only giggled in his presence and “answered” his question with another question of her own. 
You remain silent, nodding to yourself as you glance down at the bandages that adorn your arms and legs. It makes you wonder if Astarion had patched you himself … or perhaps he had made one of your other companions do it. 
You lift your head, noticing now that Astarion’s attention was focused elsewhere. His expression looks identical to your own — caught in his own mind. Guilt. 
Did he feel guilty?
“Does anything—“ he pauses to clear his throat, “—anything hurt you?”
”Just my arms and legs,” you answer. Astarion nods, inhaling deeply and shifting in his chair. For some twisted reason, you want him to stand up and leave. Maybe it was to further prove your point, or maybe you just wanted to be alone. 
You’d never really know the true answer. 
He hums, nodding to himself before he shifts again. For a fleeting moment, he debates on whether or not he should stand and exit — it was clear that you wanted your space anyway. 
Astarion knew you … and he knew that right now, you certainly didn’t want him around. Never were you short with him, but your tone insinuated that you wanted nothing to do with him. 
Not that he could honestly blame you. 
And so, he stands from his chair. You don’t lift your head to look at him again … telling. 
“Why did you take so long to come for me?”
He freezes, feeling as though someone had doused him in freezing water. His back stands rigid; you could see the way that his spine visibly tenses the moment that his mind processes what it was that you had asked him. 
You snap your jaw shut the moment that the words fall from your lips, regret filling your senses. Sheepishly, you look down, staring at your lap and screwing your eyes shut. 
You freeze at the feeling of arms wrapping over your shoulders, tugging you against a chest that you had spent many nights resting against. His skin felt cold against yours, a welcome contrast to the heat that was currently making you very uncomfortable. 
Astarion’s cheek rests against the side of your head, his hands squeezing at your waist while also being mindful of the injuries that you had sustained. He sighs shakily into your hair, feeling himself relax as he feels you reciprocate his embrace. 
“The moment that I realized that I was not interacting with you, I went out to find you,” Astarion confesses, holding you tighter as he recounts the fear in the moment when he realized that you were not you. 
You remain silent, simply soaking up the comfort that Astarion’s arms provides you with. Your head rests comfortably in the junction that connects his neck and his shoulder, nose buried into his neck. 
“You have … absolutely no idea how frightened I was,” he whispers, his voice so low that it even the rustle of the blankets overpowered his words. His arms shake where they rest around your waist, his fingernails just barely digging into the exposed skin of your waist. “The prospect of losing you–”
“Astarion.”
He pauses, feeling you shift in his arms. Without any word of protest, he releases you, settling onto his knees on the bed in front of you. You adjust yourself, then reach out to take his hands into your own. 
Astarion flinches. You pause, waiting for him to say something to you. He doesn’t, and so you take it as an okay to continue. Your fingers squeeze his own, the action directing his eyes to your own. 
You stay silent for a second or two, simply taking in the way that Astarion’s eyes soften at you. His usually sharp scarlet eyes are glazed over now with a new emotion – guilt. Guilt over not being there for you, guilt over not saving you sooner …
… guilt that you had gotten hurt. 
“Darling, if I had the chance to save you sooner, know that I would have taken it without a second of hesitation,” Astarion admits, shifting an inch closer to you. You feel the tears building along your waterline, your teeth catching your bottom lip as you attempt to suppress the sobs that begin to bubble up somewhere in your chest. 
One of his hands releases yours, hesitantly laying against your face. He thumbs away the tears in your eyes, sighing as you crumple and reach for him again. Astarion doesn’t waste a single second, wrapping you in his arms and resting his chin against the top of your head. 
“I thought that,” you hiccup, “you and the others had forgotten about me.”
His arms tighten around you at that declaration, chest promptly collapsing it on itself as he realizes just how scared you had been. He doesn’t want to imagine what you must have been thinking in that cell, likely thinking about if you would ever be saved.
If he would ever come for you.
“Never,” he whispers into your hair, fingers stroking comforting circles into the small of your back. “I would never forget you, ever.”
“You are the first thing in my entire life that makes me feel … feel something. Something other than burning hatred. You make this wretched world worth living in.”
You squeeze at him, hands bunching up his shirt from behind. He doesn’t bring attention to it, letting you cling to him with as much force as you need. 
“And I’m not going to let you go. Not now, not ever,” he promises you. You close your eyes, sighing shakily through your nose. He can feel your nod against his chest, his cheek leaning further into your hair. 
And that night, when the glistening moon hung over your tent and signaled to your companions that it was time to rest, Astarion remained at your side – fulfilling his promise.
He wasn’t going to let you feel that scared again. Not now, not ever.
333 notes · View notes
cherrysnip · 3 days
Text
sincerely yours - choi seungcheol
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pairing: seungcheol x afab!reader
content: married life, dad!seungcheol's reaction when your daughter received a love letter.
(spoiler alert: he freaked out😭)
word count: 1.5k
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Tuesday nights have always been Seungcheol's turn to wash the dishes. In retrospect, no one can even make him do a single household chore when he was younger. He grew up surrounded by helpers who were paid to do the job so he didn't try as much to learn them.
However, that changed when he married you. Probably it was because of how you were raised differently from him but you’re not comfortable of having other people hovering around your house to "do things you can do on your own". And unwilling as he was at first, Seungcheol just obeyed what you wanted because well, that's how whipped he is. (He'd undoubtedly say yes had you even declared the sky green.)
So here he is, seven years later, a "master" on the craft of washing the dishes. It's silly how such a simple thing could make him so happy but really, it wasn't easy for him to reach this point. He broke plates after plates that he swore at one point he saw you gritting your teeth like you were one thread away from strangling him.
But he said that every time you would smile at him and utter a soft thank you, hell, everything's worth it.
"Why are you smiling like a fool?"
He turned to see you leaning on the counter watching him with suspicion. A sheepish smile escaped from Seungcheol's lips as he reached out for a dry towel to wipe his hands.
"You don't have to know," he teased.
Your brows furrowed, "You better not be thinking of another woman or else..."
Seungcheol chuckled and walked towards you. He leaned, placing his hands on your sides, caging you on the counter. The action was so sudden it caught you off guard.
"How would I do that when you're everything I think about every waking day of my life? Hmm?" He planted a kiss on your shoulder which made you gasp. Years into your marriage but this little things your husband does still makes you giddy like a teenager. And of course, the blush spreading all over your face didn't escape Seungcheol, causing him to grin wider. Your reaction to his touch will always be his favorite drug.
"Now, you're just flattering me..." 
"I'm being sincere," Seungcheol insisted and met your eyes. "I still can't believe that after all these years, I'm actually married to you. How can I be so damn lucky?"
After he said that, your pouting lips turned into a wide smile. He is such a dork, you thought. You can't resist it anymore so you cupped his cheeks to kiss the tip of his nose. Being the competitive guy that he is, he did the same to you while chuckling. 
"I'm luckier to have married you, Cheollie. You're everything I've dreamed of a husband."
"Are you sure? I remember six years ago, you said you'll divorce me because I forgot to clean our room."
"Well, you already learned your lesson, didn't you?"
Seungcheol nodded, "I most certainly did."
"Oh by the way, I have something to tell you," you said a little bit later. Your arms were already wrapped around Seungcheol's waist with your chin on his broad chest.
"Baby no. 3?" Seungcheol asked hopefully and he only received a pinch on his side. "Aw! I'm just kidding sweetheart!"
"Tss," You removed yourself from Seungcheol but you still didn't let go of his arm while you gently dragged him to your living room. You picked up something from your coffee table and even though he was basically towering over you, he still wasn't able to have a clear sight of what it was because you were quick to hide it on your back.
"What is it?” He curiously asked but instead of answering him immediately, you slightly squeezed his arm."Promise me you won't have a heart attack?"
"How can I promise that sweetheart? Come on."
"Well, okay. Just please don't pass out."
"You're just making me nervous."
You pursed your lips and handed him the familiar heart-shaped paper. The last time he got a hold of something similar to this was during Valentine's Day and he almost lashed out. Good thing, you were able to prevent him from doing so. 
"W-what's the meaning of this?"
You clicked your tongue trying to supress your laughter. Knowing your husband, you kind of expected this reaction from him already. 
"Found that in your daughter's workbook. I was helping her with her assignment and that fell."
"Damn it! Seriously?" Seungcheol dramatically gasped and stared at the piece of paper again. "Sweetheart, you've already read this haven't you?"
"I did."
"And you're not bothered?"
"No, I'm not. Actually, I find it cute," you replied.
"It isn't." Seungcheol almost shouted but tried hard not to make it too loud because he was well aware the twins were already sleeping. "Look here sweet, whoever this kid was, confessed he has a crush on Chaewon and even wrote I LOVE YOU! He wrote I LOVE YOU to our daughter!"
You finally burst into fits of laughter, "What's wrong with that?"
Seungcheol was starting to get annoyed now but it immediately dissipated when you touched his arm and guided him to sit on the couch.
"Calm down Cheollie. It's just a simple note. No need to fret so much about it," you tried to ease him and Seungcheol sighed. He reached for your hand and pressed it as if he's trying to summon his lost composure.
"I mean...that kid wrote those words for our daughter. To our princess. And he's only what? Six years old? Does he even know what it means?"
"Don't insult the feelings of that kid, Cheollie. You yourself even proposed to someone when you were just what? Three?"
Shock passed through Seungcheol's face. He was just going to defend himself when you waved your free hand. "Don't even try to deny it. It was your mom who told me about it."
"Fine. But that's beside the point...last time it was Jungwon. Our little prince received a similar letter with three red roses on Valentine's Day and now it's Chaewon...and an I love you? God! The moment we received the result of your pregnancy test even felt like it just happened yesterday and now, they're receiving these...things. It's too fast. They're growing up too fast."
"Cheollie. It's not as if they're already marrying--"
Seungcheol was quick to cut off what you were supposed to say. "God no sweetheart! They're just six-year olds!"
"Exactly my point," You calmly said and closed the gap between you by hugging him and burying your face on the crook of Seungcheol's neck. "So loosen up, okay?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that... I know that after several years they'll grow up and will meet a lot of people. And then eventually, both of our kids will each meet the person they will love...but right now, I really just want them to enjoy their childhood first...is that too much to ask?" Seungcheol immediately stopped talking when he heard you sniffing. "Are you crying?"
You lifted your head and hurriedly wiped your tears without looking at him. "This is your fault."
"What did I do?" Seungcheol asked teasingly and helped dry your cheeks. "Okay, I'll stop being irrational now so you should stop crying too."
You immediately shook your head, "You're not being irrational. You're just being a good, scratch that, the best father you have always been. You're loving and responsible."
"And?"
"Fine. Handsome too. Very," they both chuckled. "Jungwon and Chaewon are sure lucky to have you as a father."
“And you as their mother," Seungcheol kissed your forehead.
"Seriously though," You suddenly said and peeked at the paper your husband was holding. "The kid is undeniably sweet writing a letter like that."
"Sweetheart..." He groaned and his plump red lips automatically turning into a pout like that of a kid sulking. 
"Sorry," you giggled. "I won't bring it up again."
You both just stayed on the couch for a long time hugging each other. And even with just that, everything felt perfect.
"Cheollie?" You called in a whisper.
"Hmm?"
"I just realized something after reading that kid's letter."
"Uhuh?" Seungcheol responded expectantly.
"That I don't say those words a lot to you," Your voice wavered. "Even if you very much deserved to hear it everyday."
Seungcheol can't help but smile because he is completely aware that you're not the most expressive when it comes to your feelings (which is a complete opposite of him) but he also knew that you have so much love to give and you just have a different way to express it. 
"Even if you don't say it everyday sweetheart, I can always feel your love for me and for the twins. And that, " Seungcheol hugged you tighter, "...is more than enough.
"But still, I feel like you want to hear it."
"I do but--"
"I love you, Cheollie." You said rather abruptly and buried your face on Seungcheol's chest. He could only laugh at your cuteness.
"Are you seriously acting shy now?"
Shame was definitely already creeping on your system so you slapped his chest and whined in a low voice, "Stop teasing me!"
With a contented smile, he whispered too.
"I love you more sweetheart."
—♡—
371 notes · View notes
Burn
My heart always hurts when I watch the cutscene where Astarion burns under the sun. Dammit Larian Studios
Summary: You chase after Astarion when he runs away from the rising sun and remind him that you chose him.
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You watch as blue lines crawl across his skin, steam rising as the sun eats away at him once more, now that he is free of the parasite. You hear the panic and sadness in his voice as reality sets in — he is no longer immune to the sun, condemned forever to live in the shadows. His ruby red eyes lift to meet yours as his skin scorches, an apology falling from his lips and he rushes to find shelter before you can say anything.
“Astarion!” You shout, watching his fading figure. He doesn’t look back, of course he doesn’t, he doesn’t have the time to when all he can think about is how his skin is searing. Your other companions remain rooted but your legs find an extra burst of energy and soon you find yourself hot on your lover’s trail, desperate to find him.
“Astarion!” You call out, panting from the exertion. Running like that just after defeating a Netherbrain was not a good idea, and you can feel your head spinning. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself and lean against the nearby wall, getting as much air into your lungs as possible.
“Astarion,” you gasp, forcing yourself to keep moving, telling yourself that the vampire was suffering more than you were. You stagger onwards, barely remembering where you last saw him and pray that he hasn’t gotten far.
You make your way to a stack of crates hidden behind a docked ship and find a figure huddled in the corner, shaking. You stumble towards the figure, fingers hastily fumbling for the clasp of your cloak which you throw around the figure’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Star,” you breathe, relieved. You feel his arms slide around your waist tentatively, cautiously hugging you back.
“Why are you here?” He whispers. The scent of your lifeblood fills his nose, causing fangs to peek out but he holds himself back, holds the hunger back.
“For you, of course.” You continue to hold onto him tightly. “I’m not leaving you alone, not ever.”
“Why?” He can feel you, feel your warmth, your touch, but a part of him still nags at him, trying to convince him that this is all just a dream, that you want nothing to do with him, not when he is confined to the darkness. He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in the fact that you’re here with him, that you came for him when you could be out in the new dawn with the others.
“Why? Because I love you, I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want a future without you.” Your fingers ghost over the burns, an ache in your heart when you see how badly the sun has burnt him. Even as the sun scorched him, he still took the time to apologise, to look you in the eye, to tell you of how much he enjoyed the journey.
“Even if it means being unable to live in the day? Being unable to feel the sun on your skin?” The words cause a lump to form in his throat. He wants to push you away, tell you to find someone else, someone better. You deserve so much better than whatever he can give you, you deserve to be able to live with the sun warming your skin, you deserve —
“Yes. I know what it means to be in a relationship with you, I know it means never seeing the sun again, never feeling its warmth, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” The fierce fire he fell in love with back then burns in your eyes, daring him to deny you your choice and he feels himself falling for you all over again.
Your devotion to the people you care about, the lengths you would go for each of them, the love you had for those around you. He had once found all these traits foolish, but now they were his saving line, the reason you were currently kneeling by his side, tenderly caressing the rough burnt skin of his cheek as you firmly declared your intent to remain by his side for the rest of your life.
You pull the cloak over his head and shoulders, ensuring they cover as much of his skin as possible.
“I look terrible, don’t I?” He gives a hollow laugh.
“And yet still so beautiful. It’s not fair how you can pull that off.” You chuckle, tilting your head to offer your neck to him.
“Drink up,” you say with a smile so bright it blinds him. “Then we’ll head back to Elfsong Tavern and discuss what to do next.”
He tugs at the cloak around him. It smells of you, the scent deep and warm. He buries himself in it, grateful for the protection it provides and gently rests his lips against your bare neck. His fangs prick your skin, and then dig deeper as blood begins to flow into his mouth. The cracking blue lines on his skin start to fade, his usual pale likeness coming back as he drinks your precious lifeblood, savouring every drop freely given.
“Thank you,” he whispers against your neck.
“Anytime,” you murmur back, holding him close. It always brings a sense of comfort, feeling him in your embrace, breathing in his scent. You hold him for a while longer, basking in the feeling of his cold undead skin against your warm living skin until the others find the both of you.
Your group makes its way back to Elfsong Tavern while shielding Astarion from the sun’s rays. The walk is filled with a quiet yet comfortable silence, exhaustion from the day’s fight and thoughts of the future that lay ahead setting in.
Everyone files into their own rooms, leaving you and Astarion standing in the corridor, facing one another.
“You really mean it?” He asks. He has to confirm, he has to make sure that he is making the right decision to entrust a part of his future to you.
“Mean what?” You tilt your head quizzically.
“That you don’t mind staying with me.” He shifts his weight from one leg to another, playing the corners of the cloak over his head.
“I mean it. We’ll find a way to get you walking in the sun again, and if we cannot, then I don’t mind spending the rest of my life in the shadows.” You take his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “You’re all I need, you’re all I want in this future of my choosing. I hope I’m in the future you choose as well.”
In the future he chooses? He…oh right. Cazador is dead, there is no master to tell him what to do, to control his every move. He can decide what he wants to do next, where he wants to go, who he chooses to spend his time with.
And he wants to spend it all with you.
“Of course you are, my love. There’s no one else I’d rather have.” He flashes his usual smile, eyes softening at the way you light up upon hearing his words.
“Then…let’s start planning it, together.”
“Together.” He agrees, liking the way his new future sounds. Even if he had to skulk in the shadows for eternity, maybe such a life wasn’t so bad with you around. He would have you to wake up to, be able to hold you, be loved by you, even if he had to burn under the sun.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Objects in Motion
Part 2
Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader
Part 1 here
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You’re deep in sleep when a loud bang wakes you.
Bolting up with a gasp, your heart pounds in your chest for a few minutes. You’re not sure what the noise was- a door slamming shut, or maybe something falling in the apartment above you, but the echo of it in your head keeps you awake for a while, hating that your anxiety doesn’t let you sleep.
.
You go to another dry cleaners, you do your best to avoid going out. You go to work, and back home for a couple of weeks, worried that someone will find you and scold you for what you’ve done.
You think about being scolded by him, you doubt you’d be able to last a moment in his presence.
After you’d ensured the safe delivery of the coat, did you finally research the owner.
William Russo, his stoic, borderline angry expression staring back at you through your computer screen had only made you aroused all over again.
This, this was the Alpha with a scent so magnetic, you couldn’t resist it.
He was rich, a CEO, and you could only look around your threadbare apartment and sigh sadly, there was nothing you could offer him that would interest him.
So, you try to move on with your life, work hard so you can afford to buy alleviators for your next heat, and stay away from alphas that would no doubt hurt you.
The art museum was a big comfort. On a Friday evening, when it was at its emptiest, you’d go in, and stare at all the paintings. You’d study the brushstrokes till your eyes burned, items like Starry Night, and Street Light were beautiful works that always made you dare to dream of a life better than the one you were in. Today however, The Lovers was the one that kept you most occupied.
Two people, with white cloths over their heads as they lean into each other, kissing.  Hidden from each other’s sight, you wonder if the painting only holds its romance because of the seemingly anonymity of the subjects. If the mystery was removed, would there be more love, or less?
It was kind of how you felt right now, pained, searching for something that you weren’t familiar with. An alpha, to call your own.
None of the alphas you’d met had ever been right for you. There was an entitlement written into them, the belief that your station was lesser, so you were supposed to submit. Alphas constantly lived with that air of superiority surrounding them, and they were easily upset when you did not give them what they wanted. 
The alphas you dated were wrong to think that submission was something freely given, in reality, it had to be earned.
You wondered if the alpha on your mind would ask nicely.
Probably not. It was a good thing he existed only in your fantasies.
.
Your omega privilege means you get to stay a little after closing. You smile gratefully in the security guard’s direction when he comes to escort you out.
“We’ve got a new piece coming in tomorrow. You won’t be able to stay late anymore, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”
You smile in delight.
“Do you know which one it is?” You ask.
“Not really, not much of an art guy, but it’s a big deal, really expensive.”
You nod, enthusiastically.
“Well, I can’t wait.” You reply, wishing the beta a good night when you finally reach the exit, pulling your jacket tighter around you to protect from the cold.
.
Not for the first time in his life, he feels the loneliness. 
It’s only that he’s never felt it quite like this. Usually, people just didn’t want him, his mother gave him up when he was a baby, and he’d never really understood why. Through his life, people had assumed he’d present as a beta, because he’d been a scrawny kid. Things had only gotten worse when at ten, his alpha denomination had shown through.
Then, everyone had wanted a piece of him, an opportunity to say that they’d fought an alpha and won, uncaring of his age and size- the world had forced him to become ruthless very quickly.
He’d let the world’s rejection shape him, and he’d only realised that when he’d met Frank.
Frank had made him understand, that alphas were not supposed to be cruel, but rather the very definition of safety and security.
He'd tried his best to ignore the hollow feeling inside of him, and that had worked.
At least, it had, up until he'd smelled that stupid coat.
Now, it was like someone had taken a piece of him and ran off with it, ripped a carefully placed bandage off and left him with an open wound. He could feel the absence, like if it was a whole other person in the room.
He wanted his omega.
It was all he’d thought about now, as he pressed the coat to his nose every night, struggling to catch her fading scent, he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again when the scent fully faded.
He keeps going, maybe he even pushes himself harder, his work distracts him, helps him keep a clear head.
He’d even accepted a job to secure artwork for the museum, even though his specialty was protecting people, and Frank was usually the man that handled asset protection.
He’s following closely behind The Scream when he stops dead in his tracks.
One of his employees tosses him a confused glance, but he ignores it as he takes a deep inhale. 
He’d know that vanilla scent anywhere, the smell of apples mixed in and his heart gives an eager kick.
Surely not-
He turns his head, sees a painting of two lovers hiding from each other, kissing through a shroud of white cloth. He studies it for a moment, his mind racing at speeds he can’t fathom.
When the painting gets too far ahead, he turns and resumes his stride, thinking about all the ways he can do his best to get what he wants.
.
He gets permission to access the security footage of the museum.
Who’s really going to deny an alpha anyway?
Billy finds her, or at least the back of her head, and he can’t help the excitement that after weeks of searching, he’s managed to get lucky and obtain a lead on her.
He talks to the security guard that walked her out. With a sleepy voice over the phone, the man tells him that she’s a frequent visitor to the museum on Fridays, and she doesn’t cause any trouble so he lets her stay a little after closing.
“She just likes looking at the pieces, and I can’t be mean to an omega as shy as her.”
Billy’s mouth twitches upward, amused at the biological imprint inside everyone to protect omegas. The men who’d done her a favour to deliver his coat had said near the same thing.
It had made him fond, of a sweet girl, that would no doubt be spooked if he showed up at her home unannounced. Even if he now had the means to trace her back to her home, he couldn’t take the risk. He had to play this right.
.
When you hear Edvard Munch’s The Scream is on display, you vibrate with excitement. Instead of going the opening week, you wait till your usual time the next Friday, when hopefully there’s much less of a crowd to contend with.
It’s not completely empty, but you’re okay with the sparse crowd, you smile, tiptoeing to peek over shoulders so that you can catch a sight of it before you’re at the front.
You love everything about it, the colour and the expressionism of it, you wonder how much the paint has faded over time. The little paragraph beside the painting describes an infinite scream, a universal anxiety, and you think you can almost feel that as you stare at it, the idea that you’re being watched sending a nervous thrill down your spine.
When you move away from the painting however, the feeling lingers. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to shake the feeling, you don’t understand how a painting can have such an effect.
To clear your head, you find an impressionist nearby, Monet’s reflections of clouds on a lily pond, and you stand in front of it, letting out a long sigh.
When the distinct smell of bergamot hits you, you stiffen. 
Your heart squeezes into your throat, and you try to look around as casually as possible, betas turn to look at you as they scent your distress in the air. 
Did you feel like you were being watched- because you were actually being watched?
You take in another breath, and this time, you’re sure.
Cracked pepper, citrus- 
The alpha was here.
Someone says your name behind you, and you turn in fright.
There he was. Dressed down in casual clothes, trying to blend in with the people around him- as if an alpha as handsome as him ever could.
Billy Russo was devastatingly gorgeous up close.
But you were fucked.
Your eyes widen and you take a step back, knowing that this was definitely about stealing his coat. He would no doubt try to make you pay for cleaning- or worse yet- a new coat entirely.
Your body flushes with fear as you back away from him on shaky legs.
His head tilts as he watches you go, dark eyes caught on your retreating form.
“Don’t run, omega.” He says easily, taking a single stride as you back away, his presence looming over you, igniting something in your stomach like a match being struck.
You make a small sound in the back of your throat, and you do exactly what he says not to.
You run.
Well, not exactly.
More like a quick walk, looking back to see if he follows, you beeline for the bathroom, hoping to hide in there for a moment.
You groan, splashing your face with water, internally grumbling over what you've gotten yourself into.
You should have never grabbed that stupid coat with your stupid omega senses always searching for the right alpha. What did you think? That just because he’d had an amazing scent meant that he wanted to take care of you? 
No, he was probably going to scold you, and force you to pay him back, and you couldn’t afford three thousand for a coat. 
Your throat tightens in panic, your body flushes with fear.
You couldn’t think too much on what he would do if he caught you, all you needed to focus on right now, was getting away.
So you take a deep breath and you shed your jacket, tucking it under your arm and stepping out of the bathroom behind someone. 
There’s not a lot of people, but luckily you know the museum, and you take the most secluded paths that you doubt anyone unfamiliar to the museum would know of.
You sigh happily when you see the exit door in sight, making large meaningful steps, looking back every now and then. Behind you is empty, and you think that you might have actually lost him.
It sends a pang of sadness through you, but you shake your head to shove it away.
You look back once more when you push your way through the exit doors, making sure the path behind you is clear of any six foot alphas.
And you walk right into him.
You’re not sure it is at first, but his size and smell give it away. Your face is pressed securely to his chest, and his hands come up to grip your upper arms firmly.
You raise your head in panic, trying to wrench back from him.
“Relax omega, you’re not in any trouble, I promise.” He says, something in his voice that makes his words sound believable.
You whine in distress.
“Please, I’m sorry, I can’t afford to replace your coat. I shouldn’t have taken it.” You plead, voice wobbling with the struggle to speak under duress.
“Shh, little one, I’m not here to ask you for money.”
His words don’t register in your head, and you begin to cry. Thick swells of tears fall from the corners of your eyes.
“I can’t pay.” You struggle out in a tiny voice.
He grunts, his hands move to cup your face, your tears spilling onto his fingers instead.
“Omega.” He says meaningfully.
The command in his tone makes you look up at him, brain going quiet, the power of his voice catching your attention easily. His stern expression softens.
“I’m not here to make you pay for anything, and I promise you’re not in any trouble.”
You make a little sniffle.
“ ‘M not?” You ask weakly.
The corner of his mouth curves up.
“No, I just want to talk.” 
“Talk?” You repeat dumbly.
His thumbs trace over your cheekbones gently, a soft tingling sensation swims in your head and settles at the top of your spine. Your eyelids flutter as you watch him nod.
“I’ve been searching for you for weeks, omega, since you left me that coat drenched in your sweet scent, I haven’t had a clear thought since.”
You gulp.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
“Don’t be sorry just-” He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s looking for the right words, “Have dinner with me. Tonight. My treat.”
You take a deep breath, eyes widening.
“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”
He lets out a swift breath, you worry that you might be aggravating him.
“What aren’t you sure about? Your safety?”
You feel your heart pick up its pace beneath your ribcage, tormenting your body with the feeling of panic.
You reach up, cupping his hands in yours and peeling them off your cheeks. 
“Alphas are… notorious for getting angry when they don’t get their way.” You reply anxiously, your hands uncurling from his, filled with so much trepidation. 
“I understand, but give me a chance to prove myself. There’s something between us, omega, you just have to open yourself up to it.”
You blink, stomach flipping as you debate your options.
You eye him warily, too afraid to say no, too scared of how he would react.
You take another step back, and his face looks pained, his body tense.
You shake your head, scared, taking another cautious step away.
“Please don’t run.” He says softly, it makes you pause.
Maybe… maybe a chance wouldn’t be so bad.
“What about lunch tomorrow?” Somewhere bright and public that would make you feel safer about being around him.
He lets out a slow breath.
“Lunch is great. Where?”
You think for a moment.
“We can meet right here, there’s a place not far from here with nice sandwiches.”
He inclines his head.
“Sandwiches are great.”
You give him a soft smile of amusement, still a little unsure.
“Okay, we’ll meet here tomorrow? Around 12?”
He nods, digging into his pockets for a moment before pulling a card out and extending it to you.
You blink, a little cautious, reaching for the obsidian coloured paper in his hand. You study the raised silver lettering, his name, his job title, his company.
“The one on the left is my cell. Let me know when you get here. If you want, we can look around the museum too.”
Something flips in your chest at the thought. You wonder what he thought of The Scream.
“No,” You mumble, shaking your head, “The museum is packed on a Saturday. I hate crowds.”
He nods in understanding.
“No crowds then, maybe we can take a walk in the park.”
“Maybe.” You reply, still a little unsure of this entire scenario.
“You're safe, Omega, I promise.”
You offer a sad smile.
“That's what they all say.”
.
He was going to kill every Alpha that had ever made you feel unsafe.
He sits in his car, after you'd denied his offer to at least take you home. 
Your scent fades where he'd touched you, his body demanding more. Apples, so fucking sweet his mouth waters. 
Halfway to his home, a text comes in from you, shyly informing him that you'd made it home.
He'd asked, wanted to make sure that you were safe as the late evening had turned to night.
He keeps it simple, types out a small message to put you at ease.
Thank you. Sweet dreams
.
.
.
A/N: Pretty sure y'all are gonna hate this. Sorry.
Also, just asking for more without leaving any kind of feedback makes me feel kinda used 😅
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in-another-april · 2 days
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carmen carmen do we think spencer gets jealous? and how would he react to his s/o getting jealous 😋
hehe i have! some thoughts! this got super long im sorry i just cannot stop talking
Spencer doesn’t really get jealous often, just insecure. He trusts you so so much and feels secure in your relationship, but he definitely does have his moments of self doubt.
Of course, you hate that he feels so down about himself, and do everything you can to reassure him. For the next few days after he feels insecure, you shower him with praise, even going as far to make a list of everything you love about him.
It only takes you reading like one page before he’s a blushing, beaming mess, giggling and begging that you stop before he passes out from how flustered you’ve made him.
As for you getting jealous?? He is. So confused (and so oblivious). He really cannot see how absolutely perfect he is.
It’s a combination of him being bad with social cues, sometimes not even being able to tell if someone’s flirting or just being friendly. And him just being so in love with you that thinking of anyone else that way just. isn’t even a thought that crosses his mind. He only has eyes for you <3
He makes sure to reassure you that you’re all he wants, his favorite person! And he’s alll over you for the rest of the day, kissing you between each affirmation so it really cements in your mind. He just wants everyone (especially you) to know he loves youu :(
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zephyrchama · 12 hours
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(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again
---01
It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.
Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.
Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.
---02
Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.
He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.
He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.
---03
Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.
He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”
You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.
Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.
---04
Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.
“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”
You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.
---05
Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.
When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.
As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.
---06
Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.
One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.
It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.
---07
It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.
The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.
Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”
Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.
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6: A FINE LINE
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
You and Bucky deal with the fallout of the undercover mission.
Word count 2.7k
Warnings: Nightmares, angry girlfriends, Steve and Nat being besties to idiots
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You were blissfully oblivious to the world while you slept for the whole quinjet flight, waking only as the small plane touched down the runway outside the compound.
"Sorry," Bucky grimaced as you woke with a gasp.
"Are we home?" 
You turned to look at him. As he nodded, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the lines of worry across his forehead. He was looking at you with so much apprehension, that you almost reached out to comfort him. Almost. The memories of the previous night came flooding back and sadness filled your heart again.
"How're you feeling?" he asked.
You ignored his question in favor of your own. "Did you fly all the way back without stopping?"
"Yeah," he nodded, his chest swelled with pride that you had noticed what he had done for you.
"That was a dangerous thing to do. You're exhausted." Bucky's face fell but you continued to chastise him anyway. "What if something happened? Are you trying to get us both killed?"
The long sleep had done nothing to improve your mood, you felt sluggish and now you were hungry to boot.
Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, before the word ‘sorry' came out in a whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."
"But you did."
The uncomfortable silence between you was broken by a crackle on the radio. "Everything okay in there?" Steve's voice sounded over the radio. 
"Yes!" you answered, hitting the button to open the aft exit hatch.
You stood up, the blanket fell off your shoulders and sent a shiver down your spine. You were still only wearing a bikini. Bending down, you picked up the blanket, covering yourself and stalking out of the plane. Bucky followed a few steps behind you. 
Steve took one look at you and knew that things weren't right but he was saved the hassle of finding a polite way of letting you know how rough you looked. 
"You two look like shit!" Nat appeared from behind Steve. "Why did Tony say everything was fine?"
"We got everything we needed but… the getaway was a little bumpy and my stomach didn't do so well," you pouted.
Natasha put her arm around your waist. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she said, leading you away.
Once you were out of earshot of the boys, she rounded on you. "What happened out there?"
"What?" You are taken aback by the tone of her question.
"Come on, don't give me the innocent act. Something happened between you and Barnes."
You sighed deeply. Bucky's words played in your mind on a loop. You felt deflated. "Do you think I'm a bad friend?"
"Oh sweetie, no one would ever suggest anything of the sort."
"I said something, I knew he wouldn't like it. And he got really mad and said some really awful things."
"What did he say?"
You couldn't bring yourself to repeat his words, even though they were burned into your brain. For some reason, you still felt the urge to protect Bucky. Logically, you knew he didn't deserve it, but your heart, the stupid organ that loved him unconditionally, had more sway over you in that moment. "It doesn't matter."
You were saved from further interrogation as your stomach rumbled loudly.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and fed. You can rest after that."
"Nat, did the intel pan out?"
"Yeah," your friend grinned at you. "You did good."
You felt a smile tug at your lips, at least you had been able to achieve something of use. Even if you had tanked your friendship in the process.
*
Meanwhile, back in the hangar bay, Steve was having a similar conversation with Bucky.
"Well I’m assuming from the way you’re both acting, something happened between you two."
"You’re a punk, you know that." Bucky huffed.
"And you’re a jerk." Steve quipped fondly.
"I was a jerk. I think I’ve ruined everything."
"What happened?"
Bucky was too ashamed of the words he had used. His soul burned with shame at the spite he had felt. He had never understood why people used the phrase ‘a fine line between love and hate’, until now. Because in that moment, for the briefest of milliseconds, Bucky had hated you; for what you’d said to him, but mostly because you didn’t love him back. He wanted to give you the world, and you wouldn’t take it. His heart was broken and you had offered to mend it, only to break it again. He would do anything to quash that feeling, shove it back inside a bottle, put a cork in it and throw it out into the deepest of oceans.
Hatred was the feeling that surrounded him as the Winter Soldier. He was hated by his keepers and hated by the world around him. Now it had crept into his soul and stained his thoughts of you. Worst of all, he hated himself for the things he had said to you.
"I think I’m going to lose her."
"Bucky, just tell her how you feel about her."
"I can’t. Not anymore, not after this."
"Bucky-"
"Would you just drop it, Steve? Why’re you so keen on this? Are you trying to get me to destroy everything so you can have her all to yourself?" Bucky rounded on Steve, unleashing his anger on the only other person who had stuck by him unyieldingly.
Steve just looked back at him, pity filling his eyes. He knew how badly Bucky was hurting. Meeting the person who you love more than anything else in life and not being able to be with them, he had suffered the same pain when he had woken from the ice, knowing that he would never get to dance with Peggy in his lifetime.
Bucky’s anger had flared suddenly and was equally as quick to dissipate, his shoulders sagging from sheer exhaustion. He had been up for almost thirty turbulence filled hours. He needed rest. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, waving away Bucky’s attempts to apologize. He guided him back to his room, requesting that FRIDAY have someone send food to his room. Steve sat on his bed, waiting while Bucky showered. Despite the powerful shower sounds coming from the bathroom, Steve could hear you and Nat talking. He couldn’t make out your words, but he heard the gravity of your tone. 
"Oh Buck," he sighed quietly.
Nat left you just before Bucky came out of the shower. Bucky looked surprised that Steve was still here.
"You need to eat." Steve pointed at the meal that someone had delivered. He started unpacking it for Bucky.
"I’m tired. I should sleep," he said pointedly, indicating that he wanted Steve to leave.
Steve picked up the sandwich and handed it to Bucky. "Eat this and I’ll leave you alone."
Bucky complied. He was good at that. He finished the grilled cheese sandwich without any enjoyment, the bread tasting like sandpaper in his dry mouth. "Happy?" he asked, gruffly.
Steve didn’t answer, leaving Bucky to the solace he sought. Not that Steve’s departure did anything to assuage the guilt that had seeped deep into Bucky’s bones. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from his bed, glancing at the door, almost as though Steve would sneak back in. When no one appeared, he spread the blanket on the floor and lay down on it, closing his eyes on the world that was filled with pain. 
Unfortunately for Bucky, his subconscious offered him no relief. His mind was tired, his emotions ruled the roost and left him susceptible for the nightmares to invade. They seeped in with stealth and gripped him like a vice.
It was midnight when a noise woke you. You startled, breathing heavily as your eyes darted around in the darkness, body immediately on high alert. It always took a few days to let the safety of your environment lull your body into a sense of security. You listened carefully for signs of disruption, but for several moments there was only silence. Just as your heart rate settled, you heard it again, much clearer this time and you knew exactly what it was and where it was coming from.
Without thinking, you shot out of bed and rapped your knuckles against Bucky's bedroom door. He didn't answer, he never did when he was like this. Fortunately, you were an old hat to this routine. You crouched on the floor, calling his name gently until his eyes opened. The moonlight flooded through his uncovered window and you moved to an angle where he could see you. Only when his eyes focused on you, did you touch him, lay a comforting hand on his arm.
Bucky sat up slowly, eyes filled with unshed tears as he gazed at you sorrowfully. The anguish in his face was unbearable and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. His arms wormed their way around your waist holding you in a tight embrace, one you never wanted to leave. His warmth, his sturdiness was your strength, your pillar. You needed him just as he needed you. 
You didn't have any plans on moving and Bucky made no move to let you go, but eventually your body protested. You were sitting on your lower legs and the pressure on them reduced the blood flow leading to a painful tingling which started in your toes and was spreading upwards. Maybe a little wiggle would help restore your feeling.
Your movement didn't go unnoticed by Bucky. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking his nose out of your neck. 
"My legs fell asleep," you groaned.
He chuckled in response. "Need to get up?"
You nodded, wobbling to your feet like a baby deer standing for the first time. Once you had recovered your balance and the tingling had ceased to be painful, you jumped up and down a few times for good measure. "Human body wasn't made for this. Come?" You held out your hand for him.
He took it without hesitation. "Where’re we going?" 
"Not far." You led him to the bed. "I thought we'd put a stop to this." You pointed at the floor.
"Sorry," he whispered.
You sighed, jerking your head towards the bed indicating that he should get in. Dubiously he followed your instruction, relieved that you chose to get in beside him rather than running away. He pulled the duvet up to cover your legs and you sank into the pillows beside him. It was so much easier to be close to him physically than emotionally these days.
Bucky was looking at you, you could feel his gaze but you didn't return it, not knowing what to say. He solved your problem by initiating the conversation.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah. But maybe we can discuss your driving skills some time. They need some work."
"I'm sorry for…" he sighed. "For everything."
"Do you really think I'm a slut?"
"No!" His answer came back so fast, there was really no room for doubt. The way his eyes stared into yours, you could feel his regret.
After a few moments of contemplative silence you asked him another question. "Since when do you watch porn, Bucky? I mean, we used to spend all our time together. And it’s not with Steve, I know that much."
"Well sometimes, when Sam, Clint and Tony-"
"Say no more."
"I didn’t think they were realistic, but on the mission, when you started talking like that… it made me wonder if it’s real, and if I’m not doing things right. I mean, what if I’m not good enough, you know? And I was angry. I mean I know it was wrong, I knew it would hurt you. But… you hurt me and … I wanted to hurt you back." Bucky hung his head with the admission.
"I’m sorry about that… I just - it’s just, she makes me feel like I’m not your favorite person anymore and I hate that."
"You’re jealous?"
You shrug. What could you say, of course you were jealous, your insides were withering and dying from the envy that consumed you.
"But you’re never jealous of anything, or anyone!" Bucky carried on, not being able to read your expression in the darkness.
"You have to care enough to be envious of somebody."
"You care about me?" he smiled.
"If you didn’t already know that, you’re dumber than I thought."
Bucky chuckled, but it turned into a sigh. "I’m sorry for calling you a slut."
"I’m sorry for mocking your girlfriend. Just so you know, Priya seems like the kind of person who will let you know if she isn't pleased. Can't imagine she would just lie there and take it."
"Yeah she probably would. I guess you don’t get to her position without being able to speak up for yourself."
"Her position?"
"She just got promoted to head of pediatric surgery. That’s a big deal, right?"
The little green monster inside you growled angrily, amplifying your feelings of inadequacy. "Yeah, that’s pretty impressive," you answered softly. "Congratulations to her."
Bucky curled up beside you, burying his head against your shoulder. "Thanks, Cricket," he muttered, drowsily.
His voice was low and tired and a wave of guilt washed over you. He was trying. You could see how hard he was trying to be a good boyfriend and a good friend. "Go to sleep, Bucky."
"Night." It was surprising how quickly he fell asleep. Even super soldiers needed time to recover.
Once his breathing was shallow and even, you whispered back to him. "Goodnight, Bucky. I love you." You closed your eyes and joined him in slumberland.
*
"Jamie?"
Priya’s voice floated into your ear, waking you.
"Jamie!"
The bed shook as Bucky shot up from his position beside you and you opened your eyes to see a very pissed off looking girlfriend standing at the end of Bucky’s bed.
"Priya!" Bucky exclaimed.
"What’s happening here?" Her voice was quiet, forceful, dripping with anger.
"Look, it’s not what this looks like," Bucky protested.
Priya rounded on you. "Are you sleeping with him?"
"No, Priya. I’m not sleeping- we didn’t have sex," you said emphatically. "We just fell asleep, we were talking and it was two in the morning and..."
Priya’s eyes narrowed and she looked between you and Bucky. "Talking? At two in the morning? Steve said you got home yesterday afternoon."
Bucky jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension. “It’s not like that, Priya. Cricket was just… I had a nightmare and… well,” he shrugged. “We fell asleep. I haven’t had one in a long time. I know you haven’t seen what it’s like, and I’m grateful for that.”
Priya crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. "And you couldn’t go back to your own room after you woke him up from the bad dream?"
You could see the hurt in Priya’s eyes, and you felt guilty for being the cause of it. She had never been outright unkind to you, in fact she had tried being friendly, tried getting to know you. You were the one who had shut her out.
"For what it’s worth, Bucky is the most trustworthy person I know. He would never do something like that to you. I promise that nothing physical has ever happened between us. I’m not a slut. But, I’m going to go,” you said quietly, “let you guys talk."
Bucky hesitated, looking from you to Priya. His heart sank as he processed the words you had spoken, he knew he had hurt you deeply with his words and his heart ached with regret.
She sighed, her anger softening slightly. "Fine, explain."
Bucky took a deep breath, his eyes pleading with Priya. "I know this looks bad, but Cricket is just a friend, I swear. I would never do anything to hurt you."
Priya looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay, I believe you. But don’t let it happen again, Bucky."
Bucky nodded, relief flooding his face. "I won’t, I promise."
You stood up, feeling like an intruder in their moment. "I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sorry for causing any trouble."
Priya gave you a small smile. "It’s okay, Cricket. Thank you for being honest."
As you walked out of the room, you could help but feel another pang of jealousy. Since Priya had come into your life, you were on the outside, always looking in. Would you ever be more than you'd always been?
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homestylehughes · 1 day
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shower sex
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pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: after a terrible day, luke knows just what y/n needs. because what's a better relaxation than shower sex?
wc: 1.7k
warnings: smut 18+. little plot, mostly smut! pure filth, no use of y/n. cussing, pet names, dirty talk. oral, fem receiving. unprotected sex, p n v. hints of some angst, and cute fluffy boyfriend luke.
authors note: hiiiii!! luke smut! luke smut! luke smut! i loved writing this, i love luke, going through a luke phase rn badddd. i got this idea when i was writing the headcanons for him earlier. so here it isssss. i loved writing this. like and reblog if you enjoy<3 as always much love<3
happy reading<3
I've actually had the worst day ever. Everything. I mean everything is going wrong today. I was late for work today because I missed my alarm, even with me sprinting throughout our apartment, and speeding to the office. I was still late.
Then, I spilled my coffee all over me. That was my second straw. The worst part about it was that I had to work in my coffee-covered clothes the whole day, not being able to afford to leave work, which would cause me to be even more behind than I was.
I had so much work to do, i stayed 3 extra hours over, not pulling out of the parking lot until almost 8 p.m. everything hurt, each part of my body was exhausted. To make things worse, if they could get even worse, I haven't seen Luke in almost a week. 
The hockey season is wrapping up but Luke has been busy with spending time with his family, after Jack's surgery and training for the worlds. 
We both had hoped that I'd be able to get time off from work to spend time with him and his family, taking a little break for myself. That obviously didn't happen. 
So now, im driving back home to our apartment, in coffee cover clothes, with a pounding headache and empty stomach. The tears are threatening to fall over my waterline. 
Parking quickly in the lot, I get out and grab my things, making my way through the lobby to the elevator. The ride to the 8 floor feels like 30 years before the door opening signaling its floor. 
I slowly trudge down the hall to our door, pushing my key in and turning the lock, the refreshing smell and sense of being home felt in my body. Immediately I drop my things by the door, kicking off my shoes as I do. 
There's three things on my mind right now: shower, eat maybe, and bed. Luke is also on my mind but I'm so exhausted I can't even bring myself to message him back from earlier. 
Making my way to the bathroom, turning the water on to the highest it can go, wanting to burn and wash away the aftermath of the day. Peeling off my clothes, my body quickly relaxes as soon as the hot water hits my body. Leaning my head back letting it run all over my face. 
I can't tell if the wetness on my face is just water or a mix of tears, at this point I'm not sure I care. 
After five or so minutes of letting the water run along my body I reach for the shampoo, starting to wash my hair. The scrubbing on my scalp and the smell of my shampoo is enough to send me into a daze. Wash and rinse and wash and rinse again, the same action repeated with conditioner. 
As I'm rinsing the last bit of conditioner out of my hair, my back turned away to the door of the shower, my eyes closed in relaxation. I feel a hand slowly trail around my waist, my eyes quickly open in confusion, my body fast to move away from the person behind me.
“Hey baby its just me” luke chuckles from behind me, pulling me back into his body from behind, his hands circling my waist rubbing small circles on my hips. 
“You scared me '' I say as I lean back into his body, “sorry baby didn't mean to”, he says, breathing into my neck, his warmth on my neck is enough to make my knees weak. 
“How was your day?” he says, face still nuzzled in my neck. I sadly laugh before i speak “my day was terrible so fucking terrible.” I can feel my eyes begin to fill with tears again. 
Luke is quick to turn me around, grabbing my face in his hands holding it to look at his. “Hey baby, don't cry, it's okay. I'm here now, i'm sorry i haven't been here recently” he says while his eyes are locked with mine, wiping his fingers under my eyes where tears have now fallen. 
Feeling stupid for crying i mute out a small “sorry” to Luke, feeling bad he has to watch me cry like a baby. 
“Hey no, don't feel sorry. It's okay to cry". I don't deserve him, I say to myself. Not knowing what else to say, I push my face to his, locking our lips together. It's been almost a week since i've kissed luke, i missed the feeling of his lips, i've missed the feeling of him around me in general. 
Luke is quick to respond by pulling my hips closer to his body, his other hand on the back of my head. Taking control of the kiss by pushing my lips harder against his.
His tongue pressing against my lips, begging to be let in, opening my mouth slightly against his, lukes hot tongue slides into my mouth. I don't even try to fight for dominance, I just let him take control.
Our bodies moving together against the stream of hot water, the glass door fogging up around us. My body feels like it's on cloud nine just from that. Lukes the first to pull away, his pupils blown with lust, lips swollen and pink. 
“Fuck i missed that” he says, hes hands begin trailing up my body grabbing at my hips, tracing his hands along the under neath of my breasts, the action alone causing me to shutter. 
“Luke” I breathe out, now looking up at him, “what baby” he smirks down at me, now trailing one of his hands to my left nipple, rolling it in between two of fingers. 
“I need you now” I say quietly, “what do you need baby?” Luke says, bringing his face close to mine.
“I want you to fuck me, please” luke wastes no time smashing our lips back to together, walking us backwards and turning us around. My back hits the cold tile, the sensation causing me to moan into lukes mouth, our tongues began to move against each other again. 
Luke suddenly pulls away from me, I whine at the loss of contact. “Be patient baby” he says, as he tails his hand between my legs, pulling my thighs apart, caging me in by putting one of his legs between my thighs and the other on the outside of my other leg. 
I gasp as a feel his fingers slide in between my folds, “fuck baby, who got you this wet?” “you luke, you.” I say trying to push my hips to meet his fingers, my body craving some type of release. 
“Youre a needy little thing tonight arent you baby” he says to me in a teasing tone, “yes i am, and i need you to fuck me now please luke, stop teasing me” i say finally finding my voice. 
“You want me to fuck this little cunt huh?” Luke rasps back to me as he begins to slowly enter two fingers inside of me, I'm so wet, that they just slide right in. 
“I think i might just tease you for a little while longer baby” still slowly moving his fingers in and out of me. My body is rocking against the motion of my fingers thrusting in and out of me.
“Fuck i need more luke, please” i say moaning out to him, hoping he can see how desperate i am for him right now. 
  “Since you asked so nicely” he says, quickly removing his fingers from my pussy. Grabbing one of my legs pulling it up against his hip. 
I pull his face against mine, my hands finding his hair tugging and pushing his mouth against mine, our teeth and tongues clashing against another.
Luke takes a hold of his cock, giving it a few quick pulls before he pushes into me completely. “Oh fuck luke” i moan against his mouth, “you feel so good around me fuck baby” he groans out from above me pulling our lips apart, as he begins thrusting in and out of me.
Each roll of his hips feels like a gift sent from god, his grip on my things hurts so good. I begin to roll my hips to meet his thrusts. 
“Fuck yeah right there baby” luke moans out “keep fucking yourself against me” he says dropping his face into my neck leaving bites in his wake. 
Luke brings my leg higher against his hip, the new angle causing my vision to fog over. “Luke fuck. Oh my gosh,” “right there baby please”. My hands running over the landscape of his back, my nails definitely leaving a trail of red hot marks in their wake. 
The sound of the shower running, and the sound of our skin slapping together fills the shower. I can feel the sweat forming on my body, as luke continues to fuck me. His hand sliding inbetween our bodies, to my clit. 
“Fuck luke, yes right there” i moan out loudly. “That feels good baby, right there yeah? You want me to rub your pretty clit as i fuck you?”. Fuck him and that dirty mouth, “yes luke please, dont stop im close” my eyes falling shut in pleasure. “Fuck baby, i can feel you squeezing against me”
Luke's thrusts began to speed up, I can feel my high approaching. “Fuck luke, dont stop” “im almost there” i say, pulling our lips back together, moaning into each other mouths. 
One last snap of Luke's hips hits right against my clit, causing my whole body to start shaking. “Im coming fuck” i can barely get out as waves of pleasure taking over. My vision is completely white, as my climax racks through my body. 
Luke drops his face against mine, as he comes his moans filling my ears, his hips still snapping against mine, as we both ride out our highs. 
Luke's hips stop moving, trying to catch his breath, as he pulls his face from my neck, I open my eyes slowly to see Luke looking back at me with a slight smirk on his face, our chests still rapidly falling. 
“I think the shower is cold ”Luke says to me while smiling, “I don't care.” I whisper back, pulling our lips together once again in another kiss. Already forgetting about the terrible day, once his lips are back on mine. 
195 notes · View notes
schwarzkatje · 3 days
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abby x chubby!reader - a very self indulgent scenario
warning: just so you know, this contains obviously mentions of descriptions regarding body parts so if this is a trigger i advise you don't read this.
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i believe abby to be one of those butches who absolutely go feral for fuller, chubbier women.
this goes hand in hand with my previous headcanon/scenario in which i explored abby's breeding kink. because once you gain weight and your breasts gets bigger, your thighs become plushier and your stomach forms that slightly hanging portion of skin adorned in your frilly and feminine dresses, abby is ashamed to admit to even herself the undeniable effect she experiences.
she doubts if what she is doing is really offensive to you because she wonders whether this can fall into the category of objectification. therefore, abby has to mentally remind herself to not be a creep and to divert her gaze from you.
her thoughts are at constant fight as one part of herself blames a morbid perversion that has to be kept on check, but just as the other part sketches the idea of it being nothing but an harmless preference in her partners.
that being said, the semblance of self control that she had built with such an effort completely shatters when you two actually interact with each other. your inclination for shirts and dresses that showed your soft chest in just the perfect way to make abby's head spin is the cherry on top of this insane obsession she has to continuously push back.
it really doesn't take much for abby to have images flashing in her head displaying her taking one of your breasts in her hand and the other under the torturous treatment of her tongue and teeth, responsible for the purple love bites scattered all over your upper body.
following suit, the scenario alone of you on your back as abby spreads your legs and brings them to yourself, bending you in half and thus highlighting the delicious rolls of your stomach causes a wet patch to form in her underwear and an undetectable twitch of her legs, squeezing to maintain the facade of a normal person who doesn't get turned on as easily as an hormonal teenager would.
one day you two are sitting together and it pains abby to not be able to handle looking at you without the need to shy away and focus on anything that isn't you. and if she manages to avoid the sight of you, your laugh and the touches you give her are daggers piercing through her shield. she is aware of how awkward she actually acts and how impossible it would have been for you to not notice at some point.
when you place your smooth hand above her own – which abby had put on her knee – her breath halts and before she can apply some rationality she turns to you, finding you are closer than her senses had detected.
your eyes are so big and innocent and full of joy and... seducing, she observes.
"abby..." despite your firm gaze, her name comes out of your mouth as a whisper capable of making her hand on the knee grip it forcefully, not minding that this is definitely giving her off.
"i've been wanting to ask you this for quite some time," you unforgivably continue "but why do i feel like we're growing apart?" the content your inquiry is that of an unspeakable sorrow and fear of losing a dear person, but the tone in which it is asked exudes a neediness for something beyond simple reassurance. you bite your lips as abby is speechless before your question and your vicinity – what in the hell is happening? is she imagining things like she always does?
her attempt at assembling a sentence proves to be a failure when all you can hear is something along the lines of "no", "of course not", without any addition of the reason behind that.
"i wouldn't be here with you right now were it the case," is the best she manages to say as she tries to laugh it off with a shy grimace feigning a confidence that is long gone the moment you are in her presence.
"but then why are you always so stiff when i hug you? you don't even come up with ideas for what to do together like we used to," your heartbeat quickens, dwelling in an uncertain place between genuine hurt and sinful arousal for abby's shyness and difficulty in approaching you.
"i- i haven't really noticed anything different, maybe it's just that i've been busy but i'm not avoiding you, i mean–" she is cut short by your voice interrupting her and your face inching closer and closer to the point where she can see the shape of your lips with the corner of her eye.
"do i make you uneasy, abby?" and why do you have to lean forward and have your breasts already tightened by your corset invade her visual field. "and to think i've been wearing this for you," now your knee is touching hers, your dress leaving your thighs exposed the more you draw near, "hoping you would take it off," what on earth— "or, even better, you would have fucked me in it..."
what kind of absurd dream is she in?
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ithebookhoarder · 17 hours
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Hi! I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests for criminal minds but if you are could you do the BAU react to their so being a paramedic/firefighter? :))
If you decide to write this thank you in advance
(BAU Headcanons) If their S.O. was a paramedic/firefighter 🚨
A/N: You're very welcome! Here you are my angel. I'm always taking requests but I can't promise how long I'll take to reply and finish them 😅 Hope this is worth the wait. Also - major shout out to any first responders out there. You are literal superheroes! 💕
Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of mental health, alcohol references, sexual references, references to death. (Let me know if I missed any)
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Aaron Hotchner
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Aaron would be honestly so in awe of you and what you do for a living. He’d also appreciate having a partner who understands what it’s like to have a job with unpredictable hours, such high stakes, and requires risking yourself to save people. 
As such, he would know how important it is to prioritise time together for the two of you. It’s why he is so active with forming a family calendar as he knows that, if it isn’t written in ink, you may never find an opportunity to do something. 
He is all about creating concrete plans for you both, so you have something to look forward to and actually have a chance of being able to arrange it, even if it’s months in advance. It doesn’t matter if it’s Jack’s soccer game, going for a jog in the park together, or a week-long vacation. 
However, he’s learned to be far more flexible if plans don’t work out the way you’d hoped. He’s had virtual Thanksgivings with you over the phone, a boxing-day Christmas, and even turned running errands on a day off into a date-day. 
We know Aaron would honestly hate knowing how much danger you’re in sometimes at work but he also knows he has no leg to stand on given his job and what he does every day. So, you both agree to let the other one know at least once a day that you’re ok, even if only by text. 
You’d have to agree to a ‘no work at home’ policy for you both to even stand a chance of relaxing at home and focusing on Jack (who thinks he has the coolest parents ever! Like, two superheroes for parents? He’s the luckiest kid in the world). 
Aaron would be such a proud partner too, even if he doesn’t always say it out loud. He shows it in his face every time he and Jack come to visit you at work, or when he displays a picture of you receiving an award on his desk for everyone to see. 
He even helps Jack when he asks to go as you for Halloween one year - the sight of which made you cry so hard you couldn’t even speak for a good hour after. Instead, you snap a picture and carry it with you everywhere when you leave the house, and even stick a copy in your locker. 
He’d have notifications set too, tracking incidents in your area so he knows when you may be working or out on a job. He’s also not above pulling the ‘FBI’ card if he even hears of someone making your life hard at work. 
He’d also be the biggest hypocrite, always worried you’re not getting enough sleep or eating enough, despite him running on no sleep and three expressos. 
He’d also be the first to rip into you if he found out you’d taken some unnecessary risk whilst out on a call. 
“I have enough worrying about my own idiots over here without worrying about you doing something stupid too. Please, you need to be more careful, ok? I can’t and won’t lose you. Not like that.”
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David Rossi 
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Rossi has lost many people over the years so he would definitely be terrified of losing you, and getting hurt. However, he knows what it’s like to have a passion for helping people and he’d never stop you from doing what you love and making a difference.
Besides with his crazy schedule he doesn’t mind having a partner who is mostly out working, or also operates on a crazy schedule. It’s almost complimentary, and allows you both not to miss each other too badly when you’re busy. 
Rossi strikes me as a supportive partner in his own ways. For instance, he would make massive donations to fundraisers for your department and for causes supported by your work. He wouldn’t even tell you most of the time, leaving you to work out where the mystery million dollars came from overnight after you just so happened to mention it to him over dinner. 
Speaking of dinner, he’d be keen to invite your colleagues over to his place for social functions, offering to hosts BBQs and family dinners. He’d also invite his BAU family too, knowing how nice it is for your worlds to mix and for people to relax amongst people who get what it’s like to deal with difficult issues. 
He also makes homemade dinners at least once a week, cooking enough so that you both have leftovers to take to work for the next few days. 
He’s also keen to share any recipes he can with you, so you know how to make them when you’re on shift for hours on end. 
“Just because you’re busy saving lives doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t take care of you too!”
This man would also make sure to call you whenever he gets a chance, especially if he is away on a case. He likes hearing your voice and makes sure to ask all about your day so far, knowing its good for both of you to touch base. 
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Derek Morgan
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This man would be the biggest supporter and cheerleader. Like, you know your pictures are all over his desk and he’s always bragging about how you saved someone’s life whenever he gets a chance. 
“Oh yeah, that’s my baby. They’re a literal superhero. They’re badass.”
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry about you when you’re away working or if he sees some major incident on the news. He’ll be refreshing his phone over and over until he sees a text from you telling him you’re ok. 
You know he will also be begging Penelope to see what she can find out too, through any means necessary (Hotch doesn’t exactly have to know about it…)
You bet your ass that if he does hear you’re hurt or if something is wrong then he will be bolting his way down to the ER or wherever you are the minute he is able to. Penelope would likely be one step ahead of him if he was unable to be there right away taking care of you until he can.
Morgan is such a good care giver too. He knows how hard it is to take care of others if you don’t take care of yourself so is King of supporting healthy habits. I’m talking meal plans so you eat right, proper sleeping habits when you can make them work, and getting out of your apartment on your days off.
He’s all for vegging on the sofa sometimes but he’s keen to support you where he can and remind you there’s a world outside of work and your home. 
He would be the kind of partner who would suggest doing things together as a couple, whether it’s a daily jog in the park or even training for some kind of race. This gives the two of you a shared goal and also shared time together - including in the shower once you get home. 
“What? It’s twice as fast this way and costs half the water bill, sweetheart.”
Also, you know this man gives the world’s best massages and he would be only too willing to give you one when you get home. He’d even try and wait up for you if he could, although you’ve come home more than once to find him passed out on the sofa. 
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Emily Prentiss
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With her track record of trusting and being betrayed by people I think Emily would be extremely anxious about having a first responder for a partner, even if she would also be totally amazed by you and thinks you’re so badass. 
Like, you can’t tell me she wouldn’t be beaming ear to ear if you ever came to visit the BAU. She would be showing you off to everyone and anyone, giving them all a face to put to the name she’s been talking about for weeks. 
“Babe, you’re amazing. You’re literally saving lives every day. All I did yesterday was fill out a stack of paperwork as big as my arm.” (She ignores the disapproving look Hotch shoots her for that comment…)
It’s just that she’s scared about losing you and it would take you both a while to work out how to make your relationship work and communicate effectively with one another about your fears. I mean, it’s not like you aren’t as equally worried about her but it takes a while for you both to accept that it’s a part of your relationship and that neither of you are willing to give your jobs or each other up. 
When she’s away on a case, or if you’re working overnight, then she won’t be able to sleep unless she sees she has a text from you telling her you’re ok and still in one piece. Of course, she prefers to be able to call if she can but knows it isn’t always possible for both of you if you’re in the middle of a shift. 
She’s a safe space so wouldn’t take it personally when you get home and have fatigue, adrenaline dumps, or just lack any potential excitement or energy for plans you made in advance. 
She’ll meet you where you are, whether it’s cancelling plans and staying in, or going out anyway because you need a distraction. As long as she’s with you then she’s happy and it isn’t like she doesn’t do the same thing after a really bad case. 
Also, we know that you’re the only one she trusts to look after Sergio when she isn’t there, knowing you will be better having someone to cuddle, feed, and look after when you’re not on shift. You become Penelope’s version of Sergio too, as Emily instructs their tech analyst to keep an eye on you both when she can’t. 
She’d be keen to spoil you from time to time and indulges on takeout, trips to the movies, and wants to take you to as many amazing places on holiday as she possibly can. She knows it’s good to travel and to have a complete break from your daily routine. Plus, she knows so many people and so many languages that you’re spoilt on choices of where to stay next. 
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JJ
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I honestly feel like JJ would struggle having a first responder for a partner. She’d be such a Momma Bear that its both wonderful and intimidating.  Like, we know she and Will worked it out eventually with him being a cop, but the fear of losing you would be a big issue for the two of you for a while. As would be navigating how you both deal with the other’s feelings after a bad day on the job. It takes some trial and error before you get into the swing of things. 
For example, she would give the best pep talks and would also know just what to say after a bad day. 
“You did everything you could, sweetheart. I am so proud of you and you saved so many lives today. You may not have been able to save that one, but they knew you tried. They knew you were there and that you cared. That’s all we can ask for in the end. You are amazing and I’ve got you.” 
When you’re both home together, or if you’ve told her you’re having a rough shift, then bath times are a must. She normally has one run, with candles lit, by the time you get in the door. She is also keen to crack open a bottle of wine, or whatever you drink you want, to help you both relax as you lie together in the warm, soapy water and just forget everything for a little while. 
She’d also insist on you both leaving voice messages for the other when you were away, so you could wish the other a ‘goodnight’. It’s comforting to her but she also likes being able to share them with Henry too. 
Speaking of phones, this ex-media liaison would have so many alerts set up and contacts to call if she even suspects you may be out on a major incident. It’s honestly kind of mind-blowing how quickly she managed to get on the phone with your superior, after hearing you could be out on a job that had gone awry. She was in a different state at the time but wouldn’t hang up until they told her what had happened, where you were, and if you were alright. 
She’s also keen to support you in a practical sense, so offers to do loads of laundry for you between shifts and also cleans the house as a way of making sure you have a nice home to come back to. You’d be sure to return the favour when you could, but she likes doing it and being able to show her appreciation for you in such a basic but important way.
JJ would be way more relaxed leaving Henry with you if she’s away, knowing your training makes you like the best possible babysitter ever. 
That, and you cannot tell me that Henry would not worship the ground you walk on. After finding out what you do for work, that little angel would make siren noises whenever you’re in the car together - something you’re keen to encourage as “everyone knows the best part of the job is turning the siren on, JJ. Duh.”
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Luke Alvez
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Luke would be so proud and so scared for you sometimes, being a first responder. 
Luke would understand that you both have super stressful jobs so is keen to suggest a ’leave work at the door’ policy unless one of you really wants to share. He knows sometimes all he wants to do after a challenging case is walk in the door and face-plant on the sofa and he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t let you do the same… that doesn’t mean he won’t reach over and gently pull of your boots for you, and leave a glass of something on the coffee table for when you feel like it.  
He is also a firm believer that Roxie cures everything, so would be only too happy to leave her with you when he’s out of town, so you can have all the cuddles and playtime you want. 
He also walks her by your work if he gets time so you can come out and sneak a cuddle if you’re not too busy or on a job. Roxie is now your work’s unofficial therapy dog and she loves her role - and the added attention very much. (And you best know she has her own little version of your uniform too).
I feel like he’s the kind of guy who would wake up with you if you have an early start, even if he doesn’t, just so he can cook breakfast and make you coffee in your favourite to-go mug. 
“You deserve to start your day in the right way, so go and enjoy your shower, baby, and it’ll be ready for you when you come out.”
He’d also leave you stupid little love notes in your bag too, knowing they make you smile when you find them later on. You also like to keep them and stick them in your locker for luck, and normally have one tucked in your pocket too. 
He’d also recommend different kinds of music for you to listen to on shift, making you playlists you can share and add to when you’re not together. It’s got so bad your co-workers refuse to let you have the aux when you’re driving around anymore as your choices are so varied they get whiplash. 
Luke also loves getting involved wherever he can, whether it’s donating time to help organise a fundraiser, bringing pizza by work, or going with you as a date to any formal events you’re invited to. He scrubs up niceeee and he loves seeing you all dressed up formal too. 
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Penelope Garcia 
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Penelope would worship the ground you walk on and frets about you like she frets about all her BAU babies when they’re out on a case - but WORSE.
So she does what she does best and compensates with love and kindness. She takes care of the people she loves and you would know that better than anyone. This queen would totally make you care packages and would make sure you had them delivered when you’re on shift. 
“You spend all your time taking care of other people, my real life knight in shining armour. The least I can do is make sure you have some fluffy socks, face masks, and other basic pamper essentials to take care of yourself! Oh, and don’t forget the protein shake I made for you! And stay hydrated! And be safe!”
She’d make sure to send gifts for your co-workers too. It’s why she’s the favourite spouse of all your colleagues and she’s greeted like the queen she is whenever she visits. 
Her cookies have earned her the unofficial title of ‘Star Baker’ and you best know there have been physical fights over them whenever you’ve left them in the crew mess. In fact, your boss has had to give you all warnings about it as a result, calling ‘dibs’ on them if you couldn’t all be trusted to share. 
She would also give you one of her many mascots for the dashboard of your rig, knowing that the little bobblehead or whatever will remind you of her when you’re out on a call. 
Speaking of calls, you know she is tuned in to all scanners / messaging systems so knows exactly where you are at all times, but especially if there is a call out. You best believe she is making sure you’re ok and has her eyes and ears open if you need help of any kind or back-up. 
As a result, you know she has been scolded more than once by Hotch and by the local authorities for interfering and hijacking calls when she thinks you’re being ignored or need assistance. 
Penelope would also be the first person to encourage you to attend some kind of support group, or seek out some kind of therapy, to help deal with all the stressful and traumatic things you deal with on a day to day basis. She would be only too happy to help you find one and would drive you there and back when she’s able. She’d even come along if you wanted her to. 
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Spencer Reid
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Spencer would be an incredibly proud partner and you know it. He would show his support in various different ways and would absolutely take any and all opportunities to remind people he’s dating a superhero (especially Morgan). He doesn’t understand why someone as amazing as you would choose to date someone like him. 
He would like giving you book recommendations so you always have something to read on shift. He’d give you his copies to borrow, so you can enjoy his pencil notes in the margins when he’s not with you. 
Not only that, but he’d also be happy to take recommendations from you too - no matter how different they may be from his usual reading material. That way you can both compare notes when you both get home and leave work behind for a moment.  
Also, you know Spence would be a fountain of knowledge about your job and has probably read up on anything he didn’t already know about your field. There isn’t a piece of jargon or code that he doesn’t know and he loves trying to use it when talking to your colleagues when he visits sometimes. It earns him their respect, which you know he would be nervous about, as your co-workers are like your second family. He’s that way with the BAU and he wants to impress the people who mean the most to you. 
His thirst for knowledge means he is always willing to let you practise different exercises on him and is keen to learn whatever you’re willing to tell him (something that has come in handy on many of his own cases). 
In return, he would like sharing whatever statistics he has memorised about the work you do. It’s also why he is so concerned about you, knowing how much your role takes out of you. His job is tiring and traumatic enough, but he is at least part of a big team and works only one case at a time. 
“I’m just saying sweetheart, it’s estimated that 30% of first responders develop behavioral health conditions including, but not limited to, depression and PTSD, as compared with 20% in the general population. If you ever want to talk to me or someone else, like a professional, then you know that’s ok.”
As much as he isn’t an overly affectionate person, I feel like he’d be the kind of person to buy you both those bracelets that you can tap and it sends a pulse to the other, letting them know you thought about them. It’s like a virtual tap on the shoulder just to let you both know they’ve got you and love you. 
He’d also drive the doctors insane if you ever got hurt on the job, yelling at them to double check their diagnosis if he even thinks you’re not getting the best treatment and care possible. 
He’d also insist on taking care of you during your recovery, not trusting anyone else to do it right - and he also has Dr Who primed for your entertainment. What could be better than that?
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 days
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hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.
I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>
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Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.
"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications
Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.
The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?
What was once doubt is now cold truth.
It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.
Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.
And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.
All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.
With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.
Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.
You are everything.
And that is why he let you go.
Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”
He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.
Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.
Makarov won’t find you.
And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle is a nervous wreck.
The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.
This is his last chance.
Kyle’s final opportunity.
In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.
His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.
There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.
Change is difficult.
But Kyle did it. Slowly.
Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.
I can’t risk losing you again.
Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.
He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.
You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.
Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.
He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.
John Price
“You’re not happy.”
John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.
“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.
You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”
This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.
From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.
John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.
“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”
“John—”
“I can’t risk losing you again.”
This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.
“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.
John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”
The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay,” he nods.
John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.
This is right.
And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.
“Where is she?”
“Soap—”
“Where the fuck is she, Price?”
Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”
Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.
You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.
Still does to an extent.
If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.
“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”
Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”
Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.
Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.
“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.
Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.
He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.
On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.
Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.
Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.
“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.
It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.
He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.
Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.
The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.
“Time’s up.”
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