#;; of laughter and joy { CRACK }

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

went from writing yan!gojo to working on sappy!sugu i feel sick in the head

[inquisitorismone]

It is really sad that Anders is no longer the same person after he merged with Justice and it’s even sadder that he’s not even capable of recognizing that. I get it I get it it’s a trauma metaphor whatever but good god. They messed up a perfectly good twink is what they did. Look at him. He’s got anxiety

[vanteguccir]

hey ❤️ can you make chris x reader where she start to feel really sick in the middle of the video and he take her out of the car and take care of her??

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

chris sturniolo x reader

where your low blood pressure and weak stomach decide to make a show during a car video ;(

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was night when the group of four found themselves inside Matt's car. Chris had taken his usual place in the passenger seat, his laughter already bubbling up as Matt fiddled with the camera settings from the driver’s seat, while Nick occupied the back seat beside Y/N.

They had just eaten a pile of fast food, the wrappers still littering the floor of the car. Y/N had smiled through every bite, eager to join in the recording, even though greasy burgers and fries weren’t her usual fare.

As the camera rolled, Nick cracked a joke - as usual -, and Chris doubled over, laughter making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He was animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he recounted a particularly funny incident involving Matt.

Y/N giggled along, trying to keep her smile steady, but she could feel a heavy unease settling in her stomach, an unwelcome discomfort that she couldn’t shake. She shifted in her seat, attempting to find a more comfortable position, but it only made the nauseous sensation swirl more violently.

Her face, usually so vibrant with laughter, began to pale as she pressed a hand to her stomach, willing herself to keep it together. The boys were too engrossed in their banter to notice at first, but Chris, ever so attuned to Y/N, felt a strange pull at the back of his mind, like a sixth sense.

Chris’s attention drifted, mid-laugh, his head turning slightly as if he could sense something was off. He caught a glimpse of Y/N in the rearview mirror, her face now slightly contorted in discomfort, her eyes no longer sparkling with the joy they usually held. His smile faded instantly, concern etching across his features.

"Hey, you good back there?" He asked, his voice cutting through the playful chaos. Matt and Nick paused, their heads turning to look at Y/N, who was now biting her lower lip, her hands clutching the edge of the seat.

Y/N tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it came out more as a grimace.

"Yeah, I’m fine." She said weakly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. She felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her, and her stomach churned, making her feel queasy.

Chris wasn’t buying it. His brows furrowed as he twisted in his seat to get a better look at her. Her skin had lost its usual glow, replaced with a clammy sheen. Instinctively, he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around, leaning into the back seat with genuine concern written all over his face.

"Babe, you don’t look fine." Chris said softly, his voice laced with worry. He reached out to touch her forehead, his hand cool against her skin. She leaned into his touch slightly, eyes closing as she tried to steady her breathing. "You’re really pale. What’s going on? Is it your blood pressure?" He pressed gently, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.

Y/N nodded, swallowing hard as she leaned her head back against the seat.

"I think it’s the food." She admitted quietly. "I’m not used to eating so much junk food at once. I’m really starting to feel sick, and i feel my blood pressure falling again." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she looked at him with eyes that silently begged for comfort.

Chris’s heart clenched at the sight of her discomfort. He hated seeing her like this, knowing she was in pain. The playful atmosphere from a moment ago was completely gone, replaced by a quiet tension as Nick and Matt exchanged worried glances.

Without missing a beat, Chris was already moving.

"Okay, let’s get you out of here." He said decisively, his tone firm yet soothing. He pushed open his door and quickly got out of the car, opening the back door to help Y/N out. Nick shifted to the side to give her space as Chris reached in, his arms slipping around Y/N’s shoulders and waist. "Come on, easy." He murmured, guiding her out of the car.

Y/N leaned heavily against him, grateful for his support. The cool evening air hit her as soon as she stepped out, a welcome relief against her flushed skin. Chris kept a steady arm around her, his other hand holding hers as he led her a few steps away from the car.

Once they were a safe distance from the car, Chris turned Y/N to face him, his hands gently cupping her cheeks.

"Look at me, baby." He said softly, his voice a balm against her unease. She opened her eyes to meet his, and he offered her a small, comforting smile. "Just breathe, okay? Nice and slow. I’ve got you." He rubbed his thumbs gently along her jawline, his touch feather-light.

Y/N nodded, taking a shaky breath in through her nose, then exhaling slowly. Chris’s presence was a steady anchor, his hands warm against her skin. The nausea was still there, lurking, but his calm, steady gaze helped to ground her.

Behind them, Matt and Nick watched from the car, their expressions a mix of concern and relief, knowing Chris had everything under control. Matt leaned forward, his eyes scanning Y/N’s face.

"Do you want some water? We have a bottle in the car." He offered, ready to jump into action. Nick nodded in agreement, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a serious look.

Y/N managed a small smile, touched by their concern.

"Water would be great." She said, her voice still a bit weak. Matt immediately turned to grab a bottle from the front, tossing it to Chris, who caught it effortlessly. He uncapped it and held it to Y/N’s lips, watching as she took a few small sips. "Thanks." Y/N murmured after a few gulps, feeling slightly better.

Chris nodded, still holding the bottle as he pulled her into a gentle embrace, his chin resting atop her head. He could feel the tension in her body slowly start to melt away, her breathing evening out as he held her close.

"You’re okay." Chris whispered, his voice low and soothing. "I’m right here. You’re going to be okay." He continued to rub her back in slow circles, his touch gentle yet reassuring.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, feeling the warmth of his body seep into hers. The nausea was still there, but Chris’s presence made it bearable.

After a few moments, Y/N pulled back slightly to look up at Chris, her eyes still a little glassy.

"I’m sorry for ruining the video." She said softly, her voice tinged with guilt. Chris immediately shook his head, his expression softening.

"Don’t say that." He said gently. "You’re more important than any video. We can always film another time. I just want you to feel better." He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby

- gojo satoru x reader

a domestic life with your husband and baby

genre: teeth-rotting fluff, sugary dump fluff, and simply pure fluffff, baby-related, mentions of pregnancy, dad!gojo

note: inspired by this fanart by Deltapork in twitter! from the moment i saw that artwork, i just can't get this out of my head😫

and this is a part of a series of gojo drabbles i’ve planned called gojo's love entries anthology -> updated masterlist here

general masterlist

Watching your husband entertain your child would never fail to make you smile.

"Aw, my cute baby!" Satoru joyfully exclaimed as he and the baby, secure in his hold, emitted almost harmonious squeals of delight. Both of them practically shared the same brain cells at this point.

And it was a sight that warmed your heart so much, especially when the old Gojo Satoru was a prick who used to made little Megumi cry just for the sake of it and always said that babies and everything that came with them were a pain.

He playfully devoured your son's plump cheeks and burst into laughter, paying no attention to the curious glances he garnered from other shoppers at the supermarket.

"Satoru, hush," you chided gently as you pushed the cart, yet still smiling all the same.

"Ah, look, mama doesn't approve," he remarked to your babbling son, wearing a playful pout. At the same time, your barely seven-month baby puckered his lips too, turning him into a perfect miniature version of your mischievous husband at his best, melting your heart even further.

"It's time for his milk," you pointed out, retrieving the milk bottle. Satoru reached for it and offered it to your baby, who eagerly latched on and started drinking.

Your precious baby continued to feed on the formula, clearly relishing it. It appeared that he couldn't get enough, with the way he drank with such enthusiasm.

"He's a hungry baby... just like you," you mused.

Satoru laughed out loud once again. "Why are you comparing a baby with a grown-ass man?"

Your son was still drinking the milk and seemed like he wanted more, but you could definitely tell how content he was in that moment.

"Because it's your baby, duh. And not only he looks like you, he's also reflecting what you've been doing to me so far, it's uncanny."

"So I've turned our son into a mini-me now, have I." He regarded you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And what have I done to you, darling? Tell me."

"...A lot of bad things."

"Heh, is that so?"

The baby then stopped drinking and seemed to want you to cuddle him, as he reached his tiny hands towards you. Satoru handed him over to you, taking the bottle away, and you gently pulled him close, cradling him against your chest.

"Yeah. Bad, bad things," you cooed to your baby, your eyes sparkling with joy. "First you seduced me, then got me pregnant. And then you forced me to go through that painful labor."

Satoru didn't miss the way the clerk eyed him after you said that. But he chuckled anyway. "Well... in the end you fell for me, and I probably seduced you a bit..."

He paid for the groceries and then the two of you walked out of the supermarket.

"But is that so bad?" He continued with a meaningful smirk. "You seemed like you love it so there's nothing to complain about."

"Hmph."

"And then I got you pregnant... well, you wanted a baby, dear, so you can't really be mad and blame just me for it all, okay?"

The fact that you were having this crack conversation at a crossroad made you struggle to stifle your laughter, to say the least.

Your son was still cuddling up to your chest and now he was looking at you with those wide, glassy blue eyes. You could tell how much he liked and needed you, as well as spending time with you, his mother.

This is your baby with the man who loves you. How could you not love him in return?

Satoru looked at his son in your arms. “Our son is the cutest, isn’t he?”

He seemed tired more than anything though, with the big yawn he just emitted.

“He is so… defenseless.”

“Well, he’s a baby,” your husband said matter-of-factly. “That’s how babies are, darling. He’s learning how to do things and completely defenseless, so he needs his parents. You and I.”

Your baby’s eyes became a little droopy. He was sleepy now, and wanted your warmth to fall asleep.

“Let’s… protect him together, yeah, Satoru?” you muttered softly as your child settled in your embrace, peaceful and content, falling asleep.

Your heartstrings were pulled when you witnessed the expression of absolute adoration on your husband's face.

“Silly. I’m the one who will protect both of you, sweetheart.”

[ribbonprincess]

⋆𐙚₊💌⊹♡

thinking of going with Drew to the beach with your little girl. (those photos got me acting up)

"you got everything?diapers,the baby carrier,wipes-" "I've got everything love,don't worry. Bella has everything" Drew has your 6 months old Isabella in his arms,her sage green pacifier in her mouth as she looks up to her father with wide eyes. Her little squeals fill the air as you walk towards the car to head to the beach.

꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦

"no...no,we don't eat that sweet girl- it's not tasty" Drew's pulling Bella's chubby hands away from her mouth as she tries to eat sand for what seems the thousandth time,you wipe the sand out of every tiny crack as best as you can before she squeals at the feeling of the slightly cold water hitting her feet and legs.

"oops- Dada's got you too close to the water hm" you chuckle,bringing her a bit away from the waves as she climbs clumsy into her father's lap "hi there sweet girl...you having fun?" a copy of his same blue eyes stares at him with adoration before her little hand smacks his cheek "woah,got such a firm hand don't you?" his hands reach for her belly, tickling at the skin as Isabella erupts into laughter. "you wanna give her the bottle? it's time for it anyway" Drew nods reaching for the pink baby bottle as you hand it to him.

"okay... okay,let's get your little tummy full" he removes her pacifier before letting her latch on the bottle "there you go." Your head is resting against his naked shoulder,his shirt discarded a long time ago due to the heat "you feeling okay mama?" "never better love" his free hand is laying against your back,rubbing shooting circles against the skin "okay,that's all the matter" his voice comes out in a whisper,pressing a kiss to your temple before focusing back on the little girl laying in his arms.

"you done bella girl?" you ask your little bundle of joy whose eyes are starting to close as the post milk nap starts to hit. "yeah..she is,look at her-- already sleepy,hm?" You put away the bottle,closing the baby bag as you look down at Isabella again "she really is your carbon copy..." "maybe,but she got your smile-- and the shape of your eyes." Tracing her tiny nose you nod,looking at Drew with the same lovestruck gaze your daughter has for him "you're really the best thing that could ever happened to me...giving me a baby and just- you." he says into your shoulder,pressing a firm kiss against it "I love you darling,you and this tiny button" he chuckles,looking down at a now sleeping Bella,her hand wrapped around Drew's finger.

You really were the luckiest human on this earth.

[bookwormjust]

Subtle change of your scent (established relationship with Azriel, the start of your pregnancy)

After a long, exhausting day of shopping with Feyre, you were curled up on the couch at home, reading a book. The warmth of the fire crackled softly in the hearth, the rhythmic flipping of pages creating a comforting ambiance. You sighed, feeling the contentment of finally being home. Feyre had insisted on spoiling everyone for Solstice, and the day had been filled with laughter, joy, and plenty of gifts. Now, it was time to relax.

Azriel had been out with his brothers, enjoying some time together after a long week of missions. You hadn’t heard him come in, so when the front door softly closed, you didn’t immediately look up, absorbed in your book.

But Azriel, as always, noticed everything. He stepped into the room, his shadows slipping silently into the corners, but it was the change in the air that stopped him in his tracks. His steps faltered as he paused, his sharp senses picking up something new, something that made his heart skip a beat.

Your scent—it was different. The familiar notes of it, the one he had known for so long and was so intimately connected with, had shifted. It was still you, still the essence that made you *you*, but there was something more now. A new depth, a richness to it. And underneath it all, something faint but undeniable—his scent, mixed with yours, and a new, blossoming presence.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as realization slammed into him. His eyes, usually so composed and guarded, widened, disbelief and hope warring within them. He stood frozen for a moment, the world around him fading as everything zeroed in on this one fact.

You were pregnant.

Your eyes lifted from the book when you sensed him standing there, the quiet intensity of his presence pulling your attention. His gaze locked onto yours, his expression unreadable at first. But then his wings trembled slightly, and you saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw, vulnerable, and utterly overwhelmed.

“Az?” you asked softly, setting the book down, confused by the way he was staring at you as if he had never seen you before.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved toward you in slow, deliberate steps, kneeling in front of you on the couch. His large hands, always so steady and sure, reached out to gently grasp your own. He stared at you for a long moment, his breath uneven, his eyes searching yours as if trying to confirm what he was feeling.

“You…” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Your scent… it’s changed.”

You blinked, a wave of understanding suddenly dawning on you as the words settled in. Your heart raced as you processed what he meant. You had suspected for a while—small changes, subtle signs—but to hear it like this, to see the way Azriel was reacting…

“I—” you started, but your voice cracked as emotion welled up in your chest. You squeezed his hands, your own shaking slightly. “I think… I think I’m pregnant.”

Azriel’s breath hitched, and his hands instinctively moved to rest on your stomach, even though it was too early for any visible change. His eyes, normally so shadowed and controlled, filled with tears that he couldn’t hold back. His entire body seemed to tremble with the weight of what he was feeling, as if the realization had hit him like a tidal wave.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and disbelief, as if saying it out loud would make it real. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and before you could say another word, he wrapped you in his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“I can feel it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. “I can feel them… our child… part of you, part of me.”

You felt a tear slide down your own cheek as you held him close, feeling the way his entire body shook with the intensity of his emotions. Azriel, who had always been so strong, so in control, was now trembling in your arms, overwhelmed by the news that you were carrying his child.

He pulled back slightly to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “You’re carrying our baby,” he whispered again, his eyes full of wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You nodded, smiling through the tears. “Yes, Az,” you whispered back. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Azriel let out a soft, broken laugh, his wings curling around you protectively as if he could shield you and your child from the world. He kissed you deeply, tenderly, as though trying to pour every ounce of love he felt into that single moment.

When he pulled back, his face was still wet with tears, but there was a smile—a real, unguarded smile—that lit up his entire face.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “I love you so much. I didn’t know… I didn’t know I could feel this much.”

You smiled through your tears, your hands resting over his on your stomach. “I love you too, Azriel.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his wings and his love, you knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful. Azriel, who had always been your strength and protector, now had a new role—a father. And the joy and love that filled the room was almost overwhelming, as the two of you shared the quiet wonder of knowing that soon, you would become a family.

[adventuringblind]

He Must Be Lucky!

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: fluff and crack

Summary: Max gets wasted and can't remember that the reader is his wife. It's endearing how much he simps bith sober and drunk.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, a wild party (at least for Max), Max being down bad

Notes: This one is for @amajixi! I hope you like it! Does anybody wanna send me asks and talk about drivers with me? Give me your most feral thoughts because I'm genuinely curious... please >_< (I even turned my anonymous asks back on please just send me things).

Side note: my fics haven't been getting much traction as they usually do. Is it something on my end? Have y'all disappeared on me? I know I shouldn't care, but y'all are the only ones that validate my writing T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Max has a track record of partying hard. It's who he is, and she lives him for it. There isn't any kind of gripe of hang-up, just Max having fun and doing dumb shit that makes her laugh.

Lando is throwing a - well - a party. There was an excuse for it in the invitation, but she's too buzzed to remember it.

The echoing sound of Max's laughter ricochets off the walls. Daniel is with him, probably getting them into more trouble, but she knows Daniel will look after him. At least until he's trashed and can't get off the floor.

Alex brings her another shot glass. She has no idea what's in it, but Alex is letting loose, and she'll be damned if she doesn't partake.

He raises the shot glass in a toast. "To whatever this party is!" He cheers. They clink their glasses together and down the shots. She gags at whatever was in it.

"The fuck was that, Alex?!" She sputters.

He gives her a blank look. Really thinking hard about what he gave her. "I've got no idea."

The hours seem to tick by. The people are slowly dissipating, leaving the safety of this weird little bubble they've created.

She's lightly buzzed still, having danced off the majority of the shots Alex had her doing. The couch is her new best friend, and Lando had brought her a blanket at some point in the last twenty minutes.

A weight on the other end of the sofa catches her attention. Max, with complete adoration in his blue eyes, is staring at her. "Wow," he slurs. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen."

She laughs at his drunken thoughts. "You're not too bad looking yourself, babe."

The smile on his face is almost childish. It's big enough to almost fall off. His cheeks tinged a darker red with the blush adding to the alcohol flush.

"Go on a date with me? Please?" He tries to pout, but it ends up looking awkward mixed with the grin.

She flashes the ring at him. "Sorry, I'm spoken for." Alex and Lando are giggling from where they are watching this interaction unfold.

Max looks like a wounded puppy. Eye's glossing over like her might cry. "He must be such a lucky guy. You're just so perfect!"

"Awe, love, you wanna know a secret?" She leans in to whisper into Max's ear. "You married me."

If Max could hand you the world on a silver platter, he might have tried in this moment. The Dutch is vibrating in pure, unadulterated joy. Like a child who just got the ice-cream they were so desperately craving.

"Holy shit! I'm the lucky guy!"

Max smothers himself against your body. Eventually falling asleep, mumbling about how she's so amazing, and how he loves her so much. It's endearing to here his drunk affections laid bare for everyone to see.

It's the lullaby that calms her to a restful state. Fingers tangling with the softness of his hair. "You're not the only one who's lucky. I guess I'm pretty lucky, too."

[roguelov]

Birthmark

Summary: Miguel discovered something he never noticed before on you: a birthmark, one specifically on your lower back side. At a single glance, a primal feeling started to burn inside of him. And there was only one way to satiate him.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used)

Warnings: SMUT (unprotected sex, doggy style, fingering, pull out/cumming on backside, voyeurism, manhandling, possessiveness, minor blood), some fluff, established relationship

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY

The world drifted away, lost and nearly forgotten, as music poured out of your headphones. The soft luminance of the sun peered through the windows, wishing to greet everyone, to kiss their cheeks with its warm light on this early weekend morning. The simple apartment space was filled with an assortment of things - both the necessary to the unnecessary but well loved trinkets - to call it a shared home.

You weaved around the living room, delicately walking to not to disturb your sleeping partner in the bedroom a short distance away. It was one of those days, a day of waking up and wanting to clean the place. It wasn’t exactly dirty per se, but it was dusty and needed a little more care.

Off in the bedroom, behind the cracked door with the blinds still shut, a body laid sprawled out on the bed - the body of an overworked Miguel. The steady rise and fall of his chest stuttered. The even rhythm broke as consciousness slowly took hold. It wasn’t any noise that disturbed him. No. It was the lack of presence. It was the lack of your warmth, the lack of your arms wrapped around his waist, the lack of your soft breathing against his skin.

He craved it - needed it to always have a well rested night of sleep.

A low exhausted groan tumbled off his lips as he rolled over. He pushed himself up, and hunched forward on the edge of the bed. He sighed loudly. He rubbed the back of his neck at a small stiff ache. The world and all of its sensations slowly poured over him. The first to return was sound. His ears perked up. Out in the living room, you sang quietly under your breath.

A smile cracked onto his tired face.

Standing up, and stretching a bit, he shuffled out of the bedroom. He opened the door, and the world greeted him. Basking in the sunlight, you glowed this morning. He leaned into the doorway, watching you with a loving, tender gaze.

The living room was cluttered with cleaning supplies: a vacuum with its long cords snaking around, a duster tossed onto the table along with a rag and cleaning spray, and lastly an unlit candle for later to fill the air with such sweet aromas. Unaware of Miguel’s presence, you continued to sing softly and only a few words at a time. You moved around with a certain grace, you were guided by the music and bounced to the beat as you cleaned.

Miguel’s smile grew.

How did you become a part of his life? He almost didn’t deserve you, or so he believed. You were a beacon of light and life.

Of love.

He chuckled once, unable to contain his joy.

Still lost in your task, you bent forward, picking up a blanket randomly tossed onto the floor from the night before.

Instantly, Miguel’s laughter seized. Confusion, and something else, settled into his chest.

What -

You, however, stood upright again. His eyes narrowed trying to comprehend what he saw. He definitely saw something, he knew he did. But, what exactly was it? Well, technically he saw two things; two things which made his chest clench and his heart skip just a tad faster. Firstly, you weren’t wearing any underwear underneath your plain cotton shorts. But, there was something else. Something he never noticed before.

And he was intrigued and determined to know.

Walking up behind you, he placed a hand on your hip. You jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. Dropping the blanket, you spun around only for your minor panic to dissipate. You laughed and smiled at him. Your headphone slid off your head and dangled around your neck.

“Well, good morning to you too,” you cheekily said.

“What was that?”

Your face scrunched in confusion. “What was what?”

Miguel’s lips thinned. He turned his head, almost grumbling. His skin started to flush, and he strangely felt embarrassed. A little odd given the few months you had now been living together. “I … I saw something … like - like …”

You raised an eyebrow. Twisting your around, you searched over your body and clothes. “What? Is there a stain somewhere? A hole? A tear?”

“No,” he groaned, rolling his eyes more so at himself. Why couldn’t he say it? “Something here.”

He tentatively reached over. With a single finger, he very gently grazed over one of your bottom cheeks. Your eyes instantly dropped down to his finger. You blinked, still baffled by his odd behavior. You didn’t see a stain, it was just your shorts. Then it clicked. Realization flooded over your features, smoothing out the confused crease between your brows.

You cocked your head, trying to bite back your growing amusement, “Are you talking about my birthmark?”

“Birthmark?” He repeated, confused.

“Yeah, my birthmark.” You chuckled. “I thought you had seen it before, or I at least told you about it.”

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t recall, but this certainly all felt like news to him.

“I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

“Well, yeah it’s always been there.” You picked up the blanket again. You kept your back to him as you refolded it. “I swore I told you before, it’s why I can’t wear certain things out. If I wear cotton shorts and they ride up, you’ll probably see it. The same goes for certain swimsuit bottoms. And if I wear white bottoms then there is a chance you’ll see it through depending on the fabric.”

As you started to move around again, placing the blanket into a basket beside the couch, Miguel’s eyes dropped. It was as if he was trying to burn a hole through your shorts to see it again - to see it properly.

Something was stirring inside of him, something he didn’t quite fully understand yet. He stepped forward. He wanted to see it, he needed to see it. His hands grabbed your hips, stopping you in place.

You jokingly rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself. He was certainly handsy this morning.

Was it handsy, or needy? Needy, yes. But, it wasn’t in the sweet innocent way you initially assumed. He wasn’t needy in the way he always wanted to close by, or comforted by having you in his grasp.

Oh no, you greatly miscalculated.

You snorted, “Can I help you -“

A gasp left your lips. Miguel had forcibly grabbed the bottom fabric of your shorts and yanked it up. His eyes immediately locked onto the birthmark - the very obvious birthmark that was nearly centered on your one cheek.

There it was. Plain as day.

You twisted your upper body, and quickly latched a hand around his wrist. Now, it was your turn to get flustered and embarrassed. “Okay, okay, you saw it, can you let go now?”

His eyes flickered up.

Oh. Oh no.

Your breath hitched, and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

His usual crimson eyes - the color of crisp ripe apples in the height of a chilly autumn, or the color of a bright lush rose given in secret to a lover - was gone. His pupils were blown wide, the darkness overtaking the lovely shade of red. They were black like the shirt of a priest who you should be praying with; they were black like the night where no one can see what sins were unfolding.

His thumb pressed firmly into your ass, into your birthmark.

“Miguel,” you whispered softly as your heart ticked faster and faster.

He dropped his head, nuzzling his face into your neck. His lips slowly brushed over your neck. You shivered. Ever so slowly, your initial surprise melted away. You lolled your head to the side, granting him more access. He always had this effect on you. One look, one touch, and soon you were putty in his hands.

Oh, he was losing himself. He didn’t know why, but this discovery riled him up. Maybe because this was like a secret, a secret only he was privy to.

His lovely little secret.

He groaned softly. His heart beat faster as he fell into this near animalistic passion - a primal frenzy. His talons slowly came out. He couldn’t - and wouldn’t - hold himself back any longer. One of his talons scraped over the birthmark.

You gasped at the minor spark of pain.

He smirked, and began to teasingly kiss your neck. A pepper of butterfly kisses that quickly shifted to heated opened mouth attacks as he bit and sucked on your now sensitive skin. He cupped your ass, giving it a rough, hard squeeze.

“Mine,” he murmured lowly into your neck.

One word.

One simple word.

And hell - all those forbidden yet heavenly sins locked away - was unleashed.

It happened all so quickly. He yanked you towards his chest. Lips collided. Tongues swirled together, drawing out beautiful sounds from each of you. Hands roamed over every curve and muscle. You were desperate for each other. You both always stoked such burning desires, such all consuming fires.

The next thing you knew, your shorts were pulled down and kicked aside along with Miguel’s sweatpants. You were immediately bent over the couch as Miguel finally slipped his cock inside your dripping folds.

You tried to hold back the obnoxiously loud cry of pleasure. Your forehead buried into your folded arms, which was supported by the backside of the couch. Your nails dug crescent shapes along your biceps.

Miguel sighed, tipping his head forward. He was panting heavily, unable to control him. God, you always drove him into such a state. He couldn’t think, he could only drown himself in the overwhelming and wondrous sensation of you. His hands happily - and downright couldn’t resist - kneaded and played with your ass. He squeezed harshly, and watched as your pliable fat pooled between his needy fingers.

Good lord.

He soon swore a string of curses under his breath in Spanish. He wanted to roll his eyes back. He wanted to completely lose himself. But, he also wanted to watch. So, he did. He watched hungrily as he pounded into you. Most importantly, he watched his thumb continue to dig fiercely into your birthmark.

A moan hummed in the back of your throat.

His eyes sparkled with such sinful delight. It was like a secret button. His secret button. His talon teasingly traced the shape of it. Then his thumb pushed further into your birthmark, enjoying the sounds you were making. He shuddered. Fueled by your responsiveness, he felt his fangs elongate as he moaned. Oh, he wanted to bite it, he wanted to mark it. Dare he say, he wanted to carve his initial into it.

His.

All his.

He gripped your hips harshly, digging his talons into your skin. Small pricks of blood swelled up under his deathly grip. Bruises and sores would most definitely appear later. He picked up his pace. It was sloppy and ruthless. The sounds were so loud, and so delightful: his hips slapping into your ass, his thick cock pummeling into you, his low groans mixing with your more high pitched ones.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, letting out a muffled whine. You buried your face into your arms, trying to silence how loud you were becoming. Desperate and needy, you soon grinded back into him, meeting his pace.

Miguel hissed, “Ah, cariño, nuevamente. Again, do that again.”

You obeyed without hesitation. You pushed back into him, moaning as his cock stretched you further. Your walls greedily clamped around him, sending him into a frenzy.

He moaned, and nearly slumped forward. He paced one hand on the backside of the couch, keeping himself upright. While, his other hand wrapped firmly around your hips. His hot breath fanned over your sweaty neck. Growling, he was furiously humping into you.

Your eyes rolled back. Fuck. You loved when he was like this, when he used you. You loved when he let himself go. And the best and worst thing was you wouldn’t last much longer. He was deliciously relentless.

You moaned, “Miguel -“

“I know,” he gritted his teeth. His voice rumbled near your ear. You shivered. Your walls fluttered around him. You were quickly nearing your end. And he knew it. “Let go, please. Oh, please, let me feel it.”

He uprighted himself, and gripped your hips again. You tried to match his pace, you tried to keep up, but you couldn’t. He mercilessly pounded into you. He moved your hips for you, he knew what you wanted and needed.

And that was it.

In a few more thrust, you cried out, gushing around him. Miguel swiftly pulled out. You whined. Yet, two of his fingers quickly plunged back inside. Your disappointment melted away as you moaned out again. Your mind went fuzzy in absolute pleasure. He kept pumping into you, overworking you. You squirmed as your legs began to shake.

“Miguel,” you mumbled, almost like a sob.

“Shhh, I know, I got you.”

With his other hand, he started to pump himself. Feeling you around his fingers, hearing your whines and delightful wet noises of his fingers slipping in and out of you, seeing your body shake with overstimulation, he spilled all over your backside.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you weakly hissed out.

He laughed once, a short breathy laugh. He pulled out his fingers. He paused for a moment, admiring your juices covering his fingers: the way it dripped down, the way it glistened in the light, and oh the way could feel his mouth water at the thought of tasting it.

And he had a little idea. An idea which had been stirring since the beginning.

He wiped his fingers clean over your ass, directly over your birthmark.

You groaned softly, still slumped forward over the couch. You focused more on trying to catch your fleeting breath. Your body still buzzed from the wondrous aftermath. Sighing deeply, you closed your eyes, thinking it was finally over.

Until something swiped across your ass. Specifically, Miguel’s tongue. Miguel licked up once, and cleaned up yours and his cum over your birthmark. He moaned at the taste. And, for an extra measure he teasingly, and gentle as he fangs would let him, nipped the birthmark.

Your body jolted at the sensation. A loud, almost pornographic, moan fell over your lips. “Jesus Christ,” you hissed.

He chuckled.

Miguel carefully stood you up, and turned you around. With still shaky legs, you completely fell into his chest exhausted. He wrapped an arm around your waist to support you. His smile softened, seeing the state he had brought you to. With his free hand, he gently cupped your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

You hummed softly, and gave him a tired lopsided smile.

“Let’s clean you up,” Miguel whispered. His finger traced down your cheek, and along your jaw. He tipped your chin up. His lips brushed over yours again. His sweetness then vanished. A devious smirk crossed on his lips. His hand fell from your waist, and squeezed your ass again. “I’m still not done with you yet.”

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[dorabellingham]

La Liga

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you're celebrating the la liga trophy, but he's really drunk and keeps asking you to marry him

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a party night at the stadium, and Real Madrid had just won the La Liga championship. The team, the fans, everyone was cheering, but no one seemed happier and more relaxed than Jude. He was completely overcome with euphoria, hugging everyone who passed by —players, journalists, staff, it didn't matter who it was, he just wanted to share his happiness.

With a bottle of whisky in one hand and the La Liga trophy in the other, Jude danced and sang as if the world was watching (and it was). His smile was so wide it seemed permanent, and his laugh was contagious. When the background music changed to a lively funk, he wasted no time in starting to dance, with exaggerated steps and movements with the clumsy and fun touch of someone who was clearly a few glasses too many. In the midst of all this joy, he suddenly spotted you, who were there backstage, waiting for the right moment to congratulate him. Jude's eyes shone even brighter when he saw you, and he practically dropped the trophy, walking towards you with a passionate smile.

—BABE!

He shouted from the other side of the field, running towards you and, in the middle of the path, almost tripping over his own legs.

Arriving at your side, he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong smell of whisky in the air. Without letting go of you, he began to speak, the words coming out in a slurred and exaggerated way.

—Y/n, you are... you are the most incredible woman in the world! —He declared, his hands cupping your face adoringly. —Marry me? Please! I love you, I'm crazy about you!

You laughed, trying to keep your composure in front of your clearly drunk husband and the cameras that recorded every second of that moment.

—Jude, we're already married!

You reminded him, trying unsuccessfully to hide your amused smile.

But that didn't seem to make a difference to him. Jude continued with the scene, his eyes shining and his tone of voice rising even higher.

—No, no, babe! I want to marry you again! I need to hear you say ‘yes’!

He pulled one of your hands and, on his knees, began to make a dramatic marriage proposal right there, in the middle of the field, while the reporters around filmed and laughed.

—Y/n, my love! Marry me again, will you? Please?

He begged, reaching out to you, as if it were the first time.

You tried to contain your laughter, shaking your head in denial.

—Honey, no. Come on, get up. We’re already married!

You looked around, noticing that the reporters were absolutely amused by the situation, and gently patted his hand, trying to get him to stand up.

It was then that, to everyone’s shock and surprise, Bellingham, with the expression of a devastated man, began to cry. Yes, cry! He put one hand to his face, covering his eyes, and grabbed the microphone from a reporter standing next to him, his voice cracking.

—I WAS REJECTED! —He announced dramatically, as if he were on stage. —She doesn’t want to marry me! Everyone saw it… she doesn’t love me anymore! —He looked at the microphone and repeated it, so there would be no doubt. —Are you seeing this? My wife doesn’t want to marry me again!

The reporters tried to hide their laughter, some barely able to keep the cameras focused. You, in turn, had your hands on your face, laughing and in disbelief at the show your drunk husband was putting on. You bent down to him, trying to whisper:

—Jude, honey, everyone’s watching! Get up, go…

He ignored you completely, turning to the camera with a martyr’s expression.

—She doesn’t love me, guys. Here I am, winning La Liga, and my wife… rejects me.

He sighed theatrically as the camera focused on his face.

The crowd in the stands, who were already laughing and applauding the scene, began to scream, encouraging Jude. And he, of course, loved the encouragement, raising his fist in the air, as if he were ready to fight for that love right there.

You, still laughing, pulled him by the arm, finally managing to lift him up.

—Come on, you dramatic! Let's go home.

But he seemed unable to let the moment pass. Hugging you tightly, he lifted you in the air, spinning you around as he continued to speak towards the microphone he was still holding.

—I love this woman! She is everything to me. My wife... and the most beautiful of all!

The crowd applauded, and Jude, finally satisfied with the show he had put on, gave you a loud kiss on the cheek and finally handed the microphone back to the reporter, laughing at his own situation.

As they left the field, with his arms around her and his eyes shining, Jude whispered:

—But you’ll marry me again one day, right?

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

—We’re already married, love. Come on, let’s go home before you even ask the trophy to marry you.

[redvexillum]

Dedicated to my fluff-loving friend, Ms. 🍑. I'm getting whiplash. The last four days were probably the darkest and smuttiest writing I've done - and today, it's ...fluff to the max. I stuffed all the fluff in my mouth. I want this story to be so fluffy that I become fluffy.

 A smile was said to be worth a thousand words, a silent language that could light up the room, soothe others, or even hide the darkest of truths.  

But what did it mean if you couldn’t smile? If every time you tried, your lips refused to cooperate, did that make you worthless? 

All your life, people said the same thing: “Just smile, honey.” And when you didn’t, they assumed you were upset, angry, or just a frigid bitch. 

But that wasn’t it. It was never that simple. You weren't upset, at least not in the way they thought.  

So, you started practising, standing in front of the mirror day by day, willing yourself to smile. You’d stretch your lips upwards, trying to mould them into something that looked natural. But the face that stared back at you was wrong.  

It didn’t look like you.  

The curve of your lips felt forced, your eyes not lighting up the way they were supposed to. The reflection almost mocked you with its emptiness, the smile looking more like a grimace, a mask of something false.   

And you hated it.  

You hated how fake it felt, how alien it looked. It didn’t bring you any joy, just a hollow, bitter taste.  

If a smile was truly worth a thousand words, then maybe yours was worth nothing at all. 

Alastor had spent months trying to coax a smile out of you. When you first arrived at the hotel, your lips were a perfect, unyielding line, your eyes flat and devoid of any spark. At first, he paid you no mind. The hotel was bustling, full of fresh souls seeking redemption, and he had no shortage of entertainment.  

The “Princess’ Redemption Program,” as much as it irked him, was thriving. There were countless other residents, and yet...you stood out, your lack of expression gnawing at him more than he’d care to admit.  

He didn’t like you – not at first. While others laughed and grinned, you remained stone-faced, and it irritated him. You befriended everyone in the hotel, navigating its chaos with grace, but never once did your lips so much as twitch into a smile. And that irked him more. 

Eventually, something in him shifted. Perhaps it was the challenge you presented, or maybe he had eternity to burn. Either way, he decided he was going to make you smile. Once, just once, and then he’d be on his merry way.  

So, he tried everything. At first, you merely raised an eyebrow, curious but silent as he suddenly began spending more time with you. Yet, you never complained. Instead, you listened, offering no reaction other than attentive silence.  

He’d tell jokes, ones that normally left him in stitches, but you’d sit there, unblinking, lips still pressed into that same stubborn line.  

Then, he tried pranks. He’d tap your shoulder and watch you startle when he appeared behind you, his laughter echoing down the halls. Every time, the same trick, the same reaction – but never a smile. Only a flicker of surprise before you carried on, as if nothing had happened.  

“Knock, knock!” He said one day, his voice lifting to its usual jovial pitch, eyes gleaming with mischief.  

You tilted your head, blinking innocently at him. “Who’s there?” 

“Boo,” he said, leaning closer, the tension in the air thickening with his creeping grin.  

“Boo, who?” 

His neck tilted, cracking unnaturally to the side as his microphone staff crackled with a sharp burst of static. “Oh, don’t cry now, dear! You’ll really have something to weep about once the fun begins!” His smile stretched wide, cutting into his cheeks as the ominous word settled into the space between you.  

But you stared back, unfazed. “That joke is pretty on-brand with you,” you said in the same soft monotone, nodding slightly before continuing on your way as if nothing had happened.  

Alastor’s left eye twitched as he watched you walk away, completely unfazed. He had told you674 jokes. Six hundred and seventy-four. And not once had you cracked a smile. It couldn’t be that his jokes weren’t funny – that would be an outrageous, preposterous impossibility! 

No, it had to be you.  

No matter how many jokes fell flat, Alastor wasn’t deterred. When punchlines didn’t work, he decided to escalate – physical humour.  

One afternoon, while you were quietly reading in the hotel library, he summoned a shadow tendril with the flick of his hand. It slithered across the floor silently until it reached your side, then gently wiggled under your arm.  

A soft, startled yelp escaped you, a sound so unexpectedly cute that it nearly startled him. You looked down at the mischievous tendril, now waving back at you in playfulness. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment creeping up your neck as your eyes flicked toward Alastor, trying to understand what just happened.  

And Alastor? He blinked, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he realized something new about himself. There was something oddly...endearing about the sound you made. It reminded him of a small, startled puppy, and he couldn’t help but want to hear it again.  

But why? 

Why did he suddenly crave that pathetic little noise? He almost wanted to scold himself for it, but the curiosity was far stronger.  

A booming laugh erupted from him instead, loud and dramatic as always, masking the strange and unfamiliar sensation bubbling in his chest. His heart – what was left of it – beat harder, faster. Palpitations? After death? How bizarre.

Over time, however, things changed in subtle ways. He noticed how easily you fit into his life, sliding into his routine with an almost unnerving grace. Somehow, without ever asking, you convinced him to join you for breakfast each morning. While you quietly nibbled on toast with jam or a simple egg, Alastor would indulge in more ...exotic fare – perhaps a raw deer carcass or the seared flesh of a particularly deserving sinner. Yet, your expression never wavered. No grimace. No disgust.  

There was something oddly comforting about your presence at the breakfast table, the quiet companionship as the two of you sat together. Alastor hadn’t realized how much he missed that – true companionship – since arriving in Hell. Surrounded by chaos and destruction, he hadn’t noticed the absence of something so simple, so human.  

He didn’t mind the morning with you. In fact, he began to look forward to them.  

Days blurred into weeks, and then months. Despite the time you spent together, Alastor had still never seen you smile. Occasionally, he thought he caught the faintest hint of something – a softening in your eyes, perhaps, when you glanced his way – but it never quite reached your lips. At this point, he figured he was smiling enough for both of you.  

Then, something strange happened. He stopped obsessing over making you smile. Somewhere along the line, it ceased being a game or a challenge. He just...stopped. And as for what he was doing with you now? He wasn’t entirely sure.  

He found himself becoming more involved in your daily life, his presence intertwining with your routine. He shared more meals with you. He strolled beside you through town, spinning tales of his past, both in life and in Hell, as you listened with quiet, patient attention.  

And now, here he was, sitting next to you in the library, the two of you reading in comfortable silence, side by side.  

Your arms barely touched, but when you turned a page and the lightest brush of your arm grazed his, Alastor found himself leaning ever so slightly toward you. The movement was so subtle, so imperceptible, that even he wasn’t sure why he did it.  

But he didn’t pull away.  

“ROOOWRRR!” A ghastly yowl echoed through the halls, followed by a chorus of scream – most notably, Charlie’s. Her frantic voice rang out, sharp and panicked.  

“ALASTOR!” Charlie’s scream tore down the hall, urgent and distressed.  

You jolted in place as you instinctively turned to Alastor. Confusion and a flicker of fear danced across your face. Without thinking, Alastor’s hand reached out, patting your arm in what should have been a casual gesture.  

Yet, it felt different – this was the first time he’d touched you in an attempt to comfort. His eyes flickered down to where his hand rested against your skin, realizing the weight of the act. Suddenly, he pulled back as if he had been burned, his fingers tingling from the contact.  

Clearing his throat, he straightened up, trying to cover his uncharacteristic slip with a wide, winning smile. “Ah, it’s nothing to worry your silly head about, darling! Just...that thing again. Visits every three years, though it’s a bit early this time,” he said, his tone light as he brushed imaginary lint off his sleeves, his movements slow and deliberate.  

“That...thing?” You tilted your head, your wide eyes full of innocent curiosity and a touch of lingering uncertainty. Your shoulders hunched in slightly, unconsciously trying to make yourself smaller, to shrink away from whatever chaos awaited in the lobby.  

Alastor’s gaze softened, and an unfamiliar urge tugged at him. He wanted to rub your back in reassurance, to ease the tension in your frame. He had hugged Rosie, hugged Mimzy – so surely, hugging you wouldn’t be any different.  

Yet as his eyes traced the delicate line of your figure, he froze. His heart thudded in his chest, the heat crawling up from his core to his cheeks, unbidden and unfamiliar. The feeling, strange and sudden, made his left eye twitch.Heartburn? Now, of all times?

“It’s nothing, darling,” Alastor assured, folding his hands neatly behind his back, masking the odd sensation that threatened to rise. “You might as well come and see for yourself – it's quite the hideous little thing,” he added with a smirk, trying to inject a bit of humour.  

Curiosity lit up your face, your lips parting in a soft gasp, eyes gleaming. “A hideous little thing?” you asked, your voice gentle as you picked up your pace to walk beside him.  

He couldn’t help but notice that each of his strides required you to take two steps to keep up. Without much of a thought, he slowed his pace until you matched him easily. “Yes, hideous and annoying. I’ve repeatedly told everyone not to feed it, yet here we are,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing in mild distaste as you approached the source of the chaos.  

When you reached the lobby, your eyes widened in pure awe. There, bouncing off the walls with a guttural yowl, was a red-furred four-legged creature the size of a cat. Its eyes were comically pointed outward, each one staring in opposite directions, and the tufts of black tipped fur on its ears bore an uncanny resemblance to Alastor’s own. To top it off, the creature sported a monocle on its left eye – just like Alastor’s.  

“Alastor!” Vaggie’s voice cut through the air as she stood in the centre of the room, sweating and pointing an accusatory finger at the beast. “Deal with Catastor!” 

Your eyes darted to Alastor. “Catastor?” you repeated, the name settling on your lips as you tried to suppress the amusement creeping into your voice.  

Alastor sighed, his grin never faltering. “Yes, Catastor. Don’t ask,” he muttered, casting the creature a look of pure disdain. He turned his attention to Vaggie, his grin tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I’ve told you many times, that thing looks nothing like me,” he spat, thrusting the head of his staff toward the red-furred creature now lazily stretching its body and wiggling around the room, seemingly oblivious to the chaos it had caused.  

“Really?” you mused, stepping forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “It does look a bit like you,” you teased, inching closer to the bizarre creature.  

Alastor’s gaze darted to you, and his voice lowered, an edge of warning in his tone. “Careful, darling. That thing has a taste for sinners,” he muttered, grimacing. “Considering, it always manages to sneak into my stockpile of them.” 

The beast, as if sensing the conversation was about it, suddenly lunged in your direction. Alastor’s eyes widened in horror. His heart leapt into his throat as he instinctively reached out, but before he could summon even a flicker of his power to protect you, you had already acted.  

With surprising grace, your hands slid under the creature’s armpits, effortlessly catching it mid-lunge. You cradled it as though it were nothing more than a stray kitten. “Hello again,” you cooed softly, your voice calm, eyes brightening with a gentle warmth as you tilted your head in amusement. 

The room was a mess – the lights still swayed from the beast’s earlier rampage, and a bit of the floorboard lay shattered and torn across the space. Everyone’s hair was in disarray, save for Alastor and you.  

Offering an apologetic smile, you looked around. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, glancing at the others. “I didn’t know we weren’t supposed to feed him.” 

Alastor blinked, too stunned to respond. You held the creature against your chest, your fingers tenderly petting its head, and to his utter disbelief, the beast – this monstrous, chaotic thing – melted in your hands. Its lower half sagged like goo, limp and boneless, as you held it up by its torso.  

A burst of laughter slipped from your lips, light and full of joy. “Silly boy,” you murmured, playfully bopping the creature’s nose. Then, you looked up at Alastor, your eyes curved in a gentle, delighted line, and your smile – radiant and bright – struck him like a punch to the gut. “I promise I’ll take care of him properly, so he doesn’t cause any more trouble. Could he stay?” 

“Absolutely-” Alastor began, his voice rising in protest, but the words caught in his throat. His gaze was glued to your lips, curved in that dazzling smile. He hadn’t even noticed the creature snuggling closer to your chest, its purrs filling the air like a mocking reminder of its victory. That hideous, absurd thing had succeeded where he had failed for months.  

Before he could fully voice his objection, Angel Dust’s voice broke through the moment. “Wait - you’ve been feeding it?” Angel coughed, climbing out from beneath the rubble, dusting himself off. “And that thing didn’t try to eat you?” 

Vaggie, eyes narrowed, stomped her foot in frustration. “How do you know it tries to eat people, Angel? Did you feed it too?” 

Angel shrugged, glancing at her sheepishly. “Maybe...” 

Alastor’s eye twitched, irritation surging through him. Months – months of trying to get you to smile, and now, here you were, beaming because of that disgusting creature. He clenched his jaw, attempting to suppress the growing wave of annoyance.  

Vaggie shot a glare toward Charlie, groaning in exasperation. “No...don’t tell me. Have all of you been feeding Catastor after Alastor explicitly told us not to?” 

Alastor gritted his teeth, the growing resentment gnawing at him. The fact that the creature’s name had been twisted to mimic his own was an insult he could barely stand. He opened his mouth, ready to snap with a biting retort, but before he could, you stepped in front of him.  

The beast had fully stretched, wrapping its long, serpentine torso around your neck like a scarf, purring contentedly as it nuzzled into you. Alastor’s eyes flickered between the creature and your smiling face, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to shift.  

That smile – your smile – he'd been chasing it for so long. And now that it was here, he wasn’t sure what to do with the flutter of emotions tangled up inside him.  

“Alastor, if he causes any trouble, I’ll-” you faltered, eyes scanning the floor, searching for words before meeting his gaze. “I’ll deal with the consequences. So, c-could you give him a chance? I promise I’ll take good care of him, we-we'll stay out of trouble!” Your voice wavered, eyes pleading, as your once hopeful smile slowly began to shrink.  

Alastor’s eyes flicked to the red-furred beast lounging lazily around your neck. The creature had been nothing but a nuisance,��sneaking into his stock of food and leaving foul messes all over his bayou. The obvious answer was no. It was so clear in his mind – he could already see himself punting the cat-like creature far across the pentagram, dusting his hands of the whole ordeal.  

But as your smile withered, and your eyes searched his, slowly realizing the inevitable refusal, something tugged at his chest. That sinking look in your eyes...it ate away at him.  

The obvious answer was no.  

But instead... 

“I swear,” he began, his tone sharp, deliberate. “If that thing causes any hint of trouble in my room, particularly, I’m going to eat that cat.” He enunciated each word, his grin widening as he flashed his sharp teeth, shooting a glare at the foul creature. In response, the creature mockingly stuck its tongue out at him, which only further soured his mood.  

What surprised him was how your face lit up – how your eyes widened, shimmering with joy, and how your once solemn expression now blossomed into something so bright it seemed to light up the entire room. You grabbed his hands in your excitement, shaking them up and down with a bubbling laughter that filled the air like music.  

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed, laughter spilling from your lips like sunshine.  

Alastor stood frozen, utterly stunned. He stared at you, his grinning mask forced on as he took in the sight of your laughter, the warmth of your smile. It was as if something inside him had cracked open – he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to see you like this, to hear that laughter, to witness the unfiltered joy in your face.  

His heart pounded against his rib cage, thrumming in his ears like a chaotic rhythm, and for a moment, he was paralyzed by the strange, unfamiliar sensation washing over him.  

How had you managed to convince him to take care of that beast? That thing would undoubtedly invade every corner of your life... and, by extension, his.  

He couldn’t understand it.  

Was he ill? Dying? 

But then you called his name, your voice soft, sweet, still laced with that bright smile that now adorned your face as if it always belonged there. And in that instant, he knew. With dawning horror, he realized what was happening.  

His tongue felt heavy, his chest unbearably tight, and his left eye twitched erratically. He took a giant step backward, trying to ground himself, then another, and another, until he melted into the shadows, disappearing without a word.  

Alastor realized, with a deep, unsettling dread, that he fancied you.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[kettlefire]

The boy under the ice

He simply appear one winter day in Gotham. The water had already frozen over. Citizens alike surround the cold pond for a day of Winter festivities.

The Wayne family making a yearly appearance. Smiles and greets as hot cocoa and coffee was passed around to children and parents alike.

Some people skating across the frozen pond, while others enjoyed the snow. Building snowmen, and having intense rounds of snowball fighting.

Even in the darkness and dangerous that surrounded Gotham, everyone understood what today was. To put aside all problems and differences. To simply enjoy the seasonal change, spending time with your loved ones.

It was perfect. Until a piercing scream broke through the laughter and joy.

Cries of surprise and fear immediately followed. The people on the pond had quickly moved away in fear and disgust.

Bruce Wayne made no hesitation to move forward. Fear thrumming at the idea that someone had fallen through the ice. Maybe it hadn't been solid enough for skating and a poor soul got pulled in.

Except the ice was perfect. The only marks from the slight scratches of the blades against it. Not a single crack or hole could be seen.

It didn't take long before Dick was grabbing Bruce's attention. Waving the man over with a grim expression. The once joyous moment quickly turned dark and grim.

There was a boy, barely older than Damien trapped beneath the ice. Even with closed eyes, the kid looked like he could easily be mistaken as a Wayne. Any urgency to help was quickly faded by the sight.

The boy's skin held a blue tint, noticeable even through the thick layer of ice and the water below. His lips a sickly purple, and not a movement in his body.

It was clear the boy had been long since dead. Floating in the ice cold water beneath the ice. Having just floated up to the ice by pure accident.

With a sombre tone, Bruce ordered someone to call the police. They would need the fire department to even fathom pulling the poor boy out.

Bruce, along with Dick stayed kneeled on the cold ice. Eyes trained on the poor boy. Wondering if this was a blessing or a curse.

A poor family out there somewhere finally knowing what happened to their son this Christmas winter. Only for the horrible news of loss to hit them, even then the mystery was gone.

The sound of sirens broke through the thick tense silence. Help would be there soon, but the day had been tainted already.

It took everything in Bruce not to shout when eyelids sudden snapped open.

Fear and pain-filled bright blue eyes stared up at him through the ice. Pruned and blue hands suddenly pressed against the ice. Purple lips moving in frantic and panic words.

Words that couldn't penetrate the ice.

Bruce moved quickly, standing and yelling for help. Calling the civilians to bring anything they could. A blade from the snow cone cart was brought over.

The thick silence and stillness breaking instantly as everyone joined together in a rushed attempt to help.

Bubbles raised to the surface, popping against the ice as the boy beneath it continued to struggle. Words of comfort spilling from Bruce, even though he knew the boy likely couldn't hear him.

Many people were ushered off the ice, not wanting to risk a massive break from the weight. The ice frantically yet slowly breaking and giving under the attempts. Shavings and cracks signaling progress.

Bruce's eyes trailed away from the ice he had been trying to break for only a split second. He could hear the sounds of the fire department pulling into the area.

Bruce's eyes met the teen's terrified one. A chill ran down his spine as he saw the fight leave the boy, a feeling of despair and loss filling Bruce.

He couldn't let it end like this.

Yet, the choice was ripped from him. The water below the ice seemed to bubble for a split second before he was gone.

The boy under the ice was just gone.

He hadn't sunk down to the bottom of the pond. He hadn't floated to another section. One second he was there, and the next he was gone.

It didn't stop the fire department from breaking into the ice. Into pulling all efforts to try and find the boy. The boy that almost everyone in attendance had seen in clear detail.

There wasn't a body. No sign of the young teen's existence, save for the now shattered and broken ice. It seemed to be nothing, a strange blimp in a Gotham day.

Everyone was meant to move on without a second thought.

Except Bruce couldn't. He couldn't get the sight of terrified eyes meeting his. He knew there was too the story. That boy needed help.

He wasn't simply trapped under the ice. The boy wasn't simply dead. He was suffering. And Bruce would be damned if he just brushed it off like everyone else.

It's a good thing Bruce didn't. A late night in the cave, listening to the police scanners. Trying to push away the lingering sadness and pain he felt from the boy.

That's when he heard it. The call of a young boy being found trapped under the ice. In a different pond.

That was all the confirmation Bruce needed. He sent out an order to every vigilante apart of his family. To keep an eye out for the elusive boy.

Bruce was going to crack this mystery. He was going to help this kid, no matter what it took.

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Four (of four)

masterpost

Jason swallowed down hysterical laughter. “No, I don't.” 

Major understatement. Jason did not want Danny to talk to Batman. There were a couple reasons! 

Most crucial to his mission was that he was pretty sure Danny would make him seem a lot less dangerous and intimidating. He needed Batman to think the Red Hood was a coldly calculating threat, not a nice guy who tipped well. Danny was weirdly blithe about hanging out with a man who was over the national news for mass murder and taking over a drug market. Now that he was mostly over the shock of Danny’s attempt to throttle him for endangering his academic ambitions, he kind of desperately wanted Danny to like him. But again, that was not conducive to the impression he needed to make on Gotham..

But also, Jason wasn't made of stone. Danny was wrong about being in danger from Batman. Whatever he was, he clearly wasn't a criminal. He was some kind of persecuted minority. The highest Batman-related-risk he had was adoption.

‘Pretty goddamn terrible risk,’ Jason thought, remembering Dickie's screaming fights with Bruce and his own catastrophic blowout. 

Alright. How to make this work in the context of his plan? 

“Lemme think for a bit,” Jason said aloud, just so that Danny would steam less. “Obviously, he isn't going to forget about you. He knows your name, where you live, alla that. The best way to get him off your ass is to make you irrelevant as a lead.” 

Emotionally compromising him really wouldn't hurt, either. It was really goddamn hard to make Batman sloppy. But Jason knew how to press his buttons. He thought it over and wordlessly led Danny into the safehouse to offer him bottled water from the fridge. 

“He's not going to find you here, by the way,” Jason absently reassured. “Do you have to go to class today?” 

Danny grimaced. “I can miss a day.” He cracked open the water bottle. “One day.” 

Jason suppressed a cackle. He had one day to do something that got Danny off of Batman's sonar. He loved a generous king. “Thanks, honey,” he said. And then he flatlined. 

They looked at each other. 

Neither one of them spoke. The air was very tense with… something.

Jason looked back at his phone and pretended to be very busy. 

‘I wish I wasn't a dumbass,’ he mourned. Jason took a moment to be wistful for a better world. ‘Fuck. I need to solve this. How do I- would dramatically escalating my timeline work? If I skip all the chess moves and just confront Bruce…’

He cleared his throat. “What are, uh, your thoughts on using your powers to commit a major crime for me just once, so that I can get the Batman off your case?” 

Danny's lips thinned. “I'll hear you out.” 

Jason's mind raced. “So, uh, you stay here today, where he definitely can't see you. I have to go out for an errand or two, but you can just camp out here.” He frowned. “Actually, Batman won't go out in the day.” Bruce had work. “You can go to your classes. You probably should. School is important.”

“And Batman isn't going to like, track my car by traffic cameras and see that I came from here?” Danny raised an eyebrow.

‘He is going to do exactly that to see that you came here, and it’ll take him all day.’

He felt a vindictive spark of joy over how Bruce’s old man neck was going to hurt after hours spent squinting at his monitors. He’d used to microwave rice packs and hand them over periodically so the big dope didn’t wind up laid up in bed the next day.

‘Wonder if the new kid does that.’

Jason snorted and hopped up on the kitchen counter. “No, he's definitely going to do that. But it'll take him a while and I'll burn this location anyway…” He trailed off as an idea hit. “D’you know anything about cars?” 

It turned out that Danny knew enough. 

So Jason made them breakfast, sent Danny off to school, and then went out to intimidate the minions he'd had for literally one friggin day.

That turned out to be completely unnecessary. Apparently the Joker got the news channel in Arkham and he was pissy about someone making a major news story under his old alias. 

In another world, Jason would have flipped off the TV and hunkered down, let this chance pass him by because the stars were not aligned. But right here and now, there was a hot boy depending on him. So Jason was just going to make it work. 

Danny came back to the safehouse after classes. “Are you sure Batman is gonna come here?” Jason watched with eagle eyes as Danny absently picked at the pot roast he'd had going all day. Danny liked potatoes. Noted. 

“Yeah, for sure.” He cleared his throat. “And he’ll follow me if he hears word I’m out.”

“Leaving me to actually do this.” Danny looked kind of disgruntled about it.

Jason opened his mouth to point out that drawing Batman away on foot was a lot more demanding than what he wanted from Danny, but then he made eye contact and felt a chill up his spine. Danny’s stare looked positively dangerous. He was gripping his eating utensils with what was obviously way too much force and leaning ever so slightly towards Jason.

‘I think he’ll attack me with his spoon if I say that,’ Jason thought with admiration. ‘This man feels no fucking fear.’

“I’m sure that you can pull it off,” he said instead. “It won’t take too long with density shifting.”

Danny made a sound deep in the back of his throat that conveyed a deep and enduring skepticism. Jason took a big bite of his own food to move the interaction along. 

There was a huge sigh.

Some latent instinct cued Jason in that eye contact was required. He put down his food and focused on Danny. He conveyed his full attention as much as he possibly could while wearing a mask. He momentarily wondered if he should take it off but no, that was nuts. 

“Tell me that you’re sure this will work,” Danny said. He blinked at Jason, looking weary. “Personally, I think that this sounds like it will just piss him off beyond belief and it’ll point to me. I can see the benefit in sabotaging his transportation, don’t get me wrong, it’ll slow him down. But why this? Are you sure that I wouldn’t be better off just going to him and telling him I don’t really know you and I ran because I was afraid of him?”

Jason swallowed. “Danny.” He radiated his sincerity, willing Danny to feel it. “You don’t have to open up to him. Taking three tires off of his car is going to be psychological warfare because I did that to him when I was a kid. It’s going to make him think of me and put him way off balance. When I confront him, he will not be thinking about a gig driver.”

Danny nodded slowly through that bit of personal information. He licked his lips. Jason tried not to imagine that he was doing the licking.

He cleared his throat but his voice still came out hoarse. “I know you don’t know me very well.” Fuck it, it was clearly time for a big swing. Jason unpeeled the domino and did his level best not to let on that it hurt like a fucking BITCH to remove without using the right solution. 

It was the right move. Danny was riveted at the show of trust, gaze darting over his exposed features before blinking and settling into intense eye contact. “I have your back. Okay?” He pulled his hand under the table to hide that it was trembling. “If Batman doesn’t put me in jail tonight, I will do whatever it takes to keep you off the radar. Alright?”

There was a nonzero chance that he was going off to die. Jason fervently hoped that his shitty fucking father pulled through for once in his miserable life and shot the Joker in his evil head. If he tried to find some clever solution, Jason was going to have to kill the fucker himself and then try to avoid getting the shit beaten out of him by his dad.

He felt a moment of painful regret that he was doing this. But he had to. It was his whole reason for being. He had to give Bruce this one last chance to show that he cared Jason had suffered and died.

It was like Danny looked right into his soul. “Alright.” Danny nodded slowly and then his face underwent a whole transformation. He didn’t look like a tired college kid. He looked capable and determined. Jason felt his chest seize. “I believe you. And-” he hesitated before barrelling on. “If Batman tosses you in jail, I guess I’ll get you out. I owe you dinner.” He indicated the table.

Jason felt himself smile. “Yeah,” he echoed. “Yeah, dinner.” 

He probably should have wondered how Danny thought he’d pull that off. But in that moment, he had no doubt. They were going to go out, at least once, and see if they could be something.

He was going to come back and he was going to take Danny out to a real dinner. He felt it in his bones.

They finished eating in silence. Then Danny silently watched Jason get ready for war, putting on his armor and rechecking his equipment. At the door, Danny handed him his gloves. It felt like a benediction. It felt like he was sending Jason off to battle with his favor.

“Four hours,” Danny said. There was no arguing with him. He reached out and wrapped his cool hand around Jason’s wrist. Maybe he was feeling Jason’s pulse. “I’ll find you if you don’t come back.”

Jason reversed the grip. He brought Danny’s hand up slowly enough that there was plenty of time for him to pull away. Instead of a rejection, he saw Danny’s pupils dilate. He pressed a kiss to the back of Danny’s hand. “Four hours,” he agreed. Then he put on his helmet and went out to face the night.

[springtyme]

for the 🍂 can we have some aaron hotch x female reader where she is bonding with jack after having become his step mom? i would love that. your writing is so beautiful and i love how you write very much 🧡thank you

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 ♡

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

summary: After having dated Aaron for a good while and becoming close with his son, you've finally taken the next step and moved in with them. Now, the three of you are taking a weekend trip to bond as a family.

word count: 1.2k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗) 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels resonates in your chest as you glance out the window, the vibrant hues of fall foliage blurring into a watercolor of oranges, reds, and yellows. The crisp air sneaks in through the slightly cracked window, carrying with it the scent of earth and damp leaves. You’re on a much-anticipated trip with Aaron and Jack. It's a rare moment of respite away from the complexities of the BAU for Aaron, and a chance for you to bond as a new family. 

Jack is sitting in the seat next to you, drawing a very colorful picture of a dog. He has been drawing a lot of dogs lately, which he has strategically left around the house. Aaron showed you one he had found in his briefcase folder the other day, tucked neatly between pages filled with reports. ‘Guess we have to give that boy a dog,’ you had said. You can’t help but smile as you look down at the little boy next to you, his concentration evident in the way his brow furrows slightly as he adds streaks of green for rolling hills and bright blue for the sky. 

You had been scared to take on the role of stepmom, afraid of doing it wrong, but it’s now been two months since you moved in with Aaron and Jack, and it has been a surprisingly easy experience. Every day feels like a new adventure, filled not only with the challenge of blending into a family but also with the simple joys of watching Jack grow and express himself.

You turn your head and catch a glimpse of Aaron across the aisle. He’s engrossed in a book, brows furrowed in that familiar way that only intensifies his rugged good looks. There’s something utterly comforting about the way he immerses himself in stories, yet you find it somewhat amusing that he always manages to select the most serious literature, even amidst the simplicity of a train ride.

“Dad,” Jack’s voice breaks the quiet, pulling you from your thoughts. He leans forward, resting his elbows and forearms on the table, eyes wide with uncontained excitement. “Can we get hot cocoa when we stop?”

Aaron’s gaze lifts from his book, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Sure, buddy. How about we find a café and grab some pastries too?”

Jack practically bounces in his seat, and you feel an overwhelming warmth at the sight of Aaron with his son. After years of navigating the complexities of being a single dad and a dedicated agent, seeing him cherish these moments of joy lights you up inside. 

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I think that sounds like a perfect plan. We should make it a tradition every time we travel in the fall.”

Jack whips his head, looking up at you with wide, excited eyes as he nod eagerly at your idea. 

Aaron sets his book down, shifting his full attention to you and Jack. “Tradition it is.” His eyes lock with yours, a spark passing between you as the train looms forward.

A few minutes pass, filled with the sounds of the train and Jack’s enthusiastic recounting of his latest school project. You steal moments to appreciate Aaron across from you—the way his hair falls just slightly over his forehead, the way he listens intently to Jack, genuinely engaged, his expression softening as he nods with pride.

You can’t help but smile as Jack’s laughter ricochets around the compartment, a melody you find comforting. This is what you wanted—a family. And in this cozy train cart, it feels as though everything is right in the world.

Suddenly, Aaron reaches across the aisle, his hand brushing against yours. The gentle connection sends a flutter through your chest, and you look over, meeting his gaze. There’s a tenderness there, a silent affirmation of how far you’ve come together, how much you’ve both invested in this newfound family.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, his voice low, almost a whisper among the noises of the train.

You chuckle softly, your cheeks warming. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you say, shifting in your seat to fully face him. 

His thumb brushes against your knuckles thoughtfully, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m the lucky one,” he replies, his eyes shining with sincerity. “We’re making great memories. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy them as much.”

Your heart swells at his words. “You’re a great dad, Aaron. It’s really inspiring.”

He shakes his head slightly, as if the compliment makes him shy. “It’s easy to be good when you have you two in my life.”

Before another word can unravel between you, Jack bangs a fist on the table in excitement. “Look! The trees are all yellow and red! Can we take a picture?” 

You laugh at his infectious energy and nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely!” 

You open your purse and take out the disposable camera you had bought for your trip and hand it to Jack. You help him reposition it so he can capture the vivid scenery outside. As he angles the camera towards the window, he squeals in delight. He takes a picture of the scenery outside the window before turning to point the camera at Aaron. 

“Say cheese, dad!” Jack giggles, and you can’t help but laugh at his infectious joy, which bounces between you and Aaron like a pulse of happiness. 

Aaron obliges and Jack snaps a picture of his dad, giggling with excitement before handling the camera over to Aaron. 

“Now take one of us!” Jack urges, his eyes sparkling with thrill.

Aaron takes the camera, looking between you and Jack, a soft smile spreading across his face. There’s a shared warmth in the space between the three of you, a cocoon of laughter and happiness that feels almost magical. You place your arm around Jack and he leans against you, your heart fluttering with warm affection as you pull him a little closer.

“Alright, big smiles,” Aaron says, lifting the camera to capture the moment. You make a silly face while Jack beams with joy, his mouth wide open in a grin, a perfect reflection of the pure happiness radiating from him.

The click of the camera echoes in the small compartment, sealing the memory of this perfect moment in time. As the train chugs along, the afternoon sun begins to dip a little lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow through the window. You see the sparkle in Jack’s eyes, the way he revels in the joy of the here and now, and the warmth of Aaron’s presence feels like a comforting embrace.

“You think we’ll remember this day forever?” Jack asks, his voice a soft whisper, batting those big eyes up at you both.

Smiling down at him, you nod. “Absolutely, buddy. This is the start of many wonderful adventures together.”

Aaron gazes at you, a knowing smile gracing his lips, and in that moment, you realize the truth of your words. The laughter, the love, and the memories you’re weaving—they’re not just moments; they’re the foundation of your new family.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels becomes a soothing lullaby, wrapping around you all as you lean back into your seat, Jack snuggled against you, and Aaron’s hand resting gently on your knee. Outside, the world blurs into a tapestry of colors, mirroring the vibrant joy in your heart.

In this fleeting moment, you understand that together, you’re crafting a life filled with warmth, laughter, and unbreakable bonds—a life that feels just right.

[yeostinys]

My Dear Darling

Chapter 4

Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader

Genre: Eventual Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!

Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Alcohol consumption, Explicit language. So so so much fluff. Lots of Wooyoung in this chapter. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)

Word Count: 5.7k

Synopsis: The boys have a typical frat boy convo gushing over you. You spend the night and morning taking care of your lovely 8 boyfriends

previous >>> next chapter

———————————————————————

Wooyoung rubs his lips in a smirk as you hastily push him out of the bathroom. He could feel the curious gazes of a few partygoers looking him down the hallway, but he merely scoffed to himself, reveling in the triumphant thrill of the moment. As he made his way back to the basement area of the house, he smiled to himself at the memory of your sweet lips and the warmth of your breath lingering vividly in his mind.

He plopped down onto the plush leather couch, sinking into its softness, the smug expression firmly etched on his face. He could still picture your flustered expression—the way your cheeks flushed when he teased you. He licked his lips absentmindedly, adjusting himself on the couch and clearing his throat, trying to shake off the thoughts of you.

“Where’s Y/N?” Seonghwa’s voice broke through his reverie, an eyebrow arched in curiosity as he scrutinized Wooyoung.

“Ah, she ran into Jia upstairs,” Wooyoung replied with a casual wave of his hand, feigning indifference, even though his heart raced at the mere mention of your name.

“Wooyoung, why the fuck are you hard” Yeosang teases with a straight face, pointing at his pants. The boys quickly whip their heads in Wooyoung’s direction, and burst of laughter and scoffs fill the room. Wooyoung rolls his eyes in response and brings his hands down to shield himself, laughing at the sudden call out.

“Shut the fuck up, did you kiss her?!” Mingi whined, his voice a blend of excitement and disbelief. Wooyoung couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face. He paused for a moment, letting the tension build before leaning back into the couch with a satisfied sigh.

“I didn’t only kiss her. We fucken made out in the bathroom,” he declared, a triumphant glint in his eye.

“Already?! Fuck- I really thought I was going to be the first one to make out with Y/N,” Yeosang pouted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the pool table, feigning annoyance.

Wooyoung lifted his chin, a proud smile playing on his lips as he brought his finger to his mouth in a mock gesture of contemplation.

“Hmm, hate to break it to you, Yeo. It was me.” He shrugged playfully, laughter bubbling forth, reveling in his victory.

“Actually, Woo,” The boys turned to see Yunho leaning casually against the wall, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “I hate to break it to you... I actually got a taste of Y/N’s lips yesterday on the kitchen counter. So technically, I got the first make out with her.”

“WHAT?!” The room erupted in disbelief, the boys exchanging wide-eyed glances filled with shock and an undercurrent of admiration. A wave of joy washed over them as they realized how you were slowly adjusting to their presence, embracing the warmth of their camaraderie and allowing yourself to engage in more physical closeness.

“I’m going to find Y/N,” Yeosang declared, a determined gleam in his eyes as he pushed himself off the table, eager to seek you out. But before he could make a dash for it, Hongjoong swiftly grabbed the back of his hoodie, yanking him back with an amused grin.

“Calm down, doberman. She’s with her friend right now,” he chided, the room bursting into laughter at the playful banter.

———

*Knock Knock*

“Y/N? It’s Jia! I’m back!” Her voice was muffled, but the urgency in her tone pierced through the bathroom door. You hurriedly opened it just a crack, your heart racing, and reached out for the sanitary pad she held out.

“Thank you, Jia. I’ll change and come right out,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but the flush on your cheeks betrayed you. You quickly closed the door, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath. You ripped open the packaging and put on the pad, even though you most definitely didn’t need it.

As you turned to the mirror, a wave of embarrassment washed over you. Your eyes drifted to your neck, and your breath caught in your throat. There, vivid and undeniable, was a red flushed mark Wooyoung had left during your heated make out session.

(Fuck) You mentally cursed to yourself. You bring your hair forward to cover the mark, hoping it would be enough to hide the evidence of your private indiscretion. After a few moments of frantic adjustment, you took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

Jia was waiting just outside, her hands on her hips and a worried expression on her face. “Are you okay, Y/N?!” she asked, her eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. You smile at your best friend and nod, trying to project confidence despite the swirling chaos in your mind.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

“Okay! Well, wait for me!” Jia exclaimed, suddenly bursting with energy. She shuffled past you, making a beeline for the bathroom. “I need to take a serious piss! Then we’ll go take a shot together!”

You chuckled softly, grateful for her lightheartedness. As she settled in, you leaned against the doorframe, a mixture of excitement and anxiety coursing through you.

———

For the next thirty minutes, Jia is glued to your side in the chaotic house. The air is thick with laughter, chatter, and the unmistakable scent of spilled beer. The walls pulse with the heavy bass of music blaring from a speaker in the corner, shaking the very foundation of the house.

“Come on! Let’s dance!” Jia shouts, her voice cutting through the noise as she pulls you into the crowd. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy as she twirls, her hair flying around her like a wild halo. Her joy is palpable, and it’s hard not to get swept up in her enthusiasm.

You glance at the makeshift bar set up on the kitchen counter, where bottles of liquor stand at attention beside a punch bowl that looks suspiciously like it was mixed by someone who had already had too many. Jia has been passing you shot, after shot, even though you’re still accompanied by the mixed drink in your hand. You’ve been discreetly pouring the shots into the sink, careful not to let her catch on.

Amidst the chaos, you treasure this moment with her. She’s been your best friend for eight strong years, and the thought of hiding your relationship with ATZ from her feels like a betrayal. Maybe you should consider opening up to her about your relationship with ATZ… (I should still talk about it with the boys first before anything.) You thought to yourself. As Jia pulls you closer to the dance floor, you can’t help but admire how carefree she is, lost in the rhythm. You surrender to the chaos, letting the rhythm guide you. Jia spotted a familiar figure across the crowded room, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of Wonho. A playful smile spread across her face, and without a moment's hesitation, she began to sway toward him, her movements fluid and carefree. She turned her head and flashed you a wide grin, a mischievous wink accompanying her expression and in an instant, he swept her away.

You couldn’t help but laugh, waving her off with a sense of warmth. The energy around you was electric, pulsating with the rhythm of the beat as you lost yourself in the music, swaying to the melody and soaking in the vibrant atmosphere. The lights flickered overhead, casting playful shadows that danced alongside you, each pulse of the bass urging you to let go and enjoy the moment.

Suddenly, you felt a strong arm slide around your waist, pulling you back against a warm, familiar presence. Panic flared for an instant as you whipped around, your heart racing, only to come face-to-face with the very same smug grin that had lingered in your mind since the bathroom encounter.

“Hey, pretty,” Wooyoung murmured, leaning closer, his grip tightening slightly on your waist, pulling you closer towards him. A sigh of relief escaped you, and you playfully swatted his shoulder, feigning annoyance.

“Fuck Woo, you scared me,” you said, half-laughing, half-exasperated. He chuckled, the sound low and inviting, and leaned in to whisper a quick,

“Sorry,” his breath warm against your ear. Without another word, Wooyoung began to move, his body swaying charismatically to the beat of the music that pulsed through the room. The rhythm enveloped you both, and as he held onto your waist, you felt a wave of confidence wash over you. Encouraged by his presence, you began to move against him, letting the music guide your movements, each sway and shift bringing you closer together in an intoxicating dance that felt both thrilling and electric. You don’t care about the unlikely stares people may be giving you two as you move with Wooyoung. Everyone around you is too intoxicated and infatuated with their own lives. Leaving you carefree. You notice at the corner of your eye, the rest of ATZ made their way towards you and Wooyoung on the dance floor. Their high energy filled the house as they all began to dance skillfully and taking their turns moving with you.

As the night deepened, the lively atmosphere of the gathering drew you and ATZ into the kitchen, where the scent of snacks mingled with laughter. Half of the boys were unmistakably intoxicated, swaying on their feet and erupting into fits of giggles over seemingly random thoughts. The air was thick with a sense of camaraderie and carefree joy.

“Alright, it’s time to head home,” Hongjoong declared, his voice a bit slurred but filled with authority. He and Seonghwa took charge, attempting to wrangle the more inebriated members of the group. You watched as they gathered the staggering figures, their laughter echoing against the kitchen walls, a chorus of drunken revelry.

Stepping out into the cool night air, you felt Wooyoung’s arm casually drape over your shoulders. He leaned in close, a grin plastered across his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief. You couldn’t help but giggle in return, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“Are you drunk, baby?” Wooyoung teased, laughter bubbling in his voice. You shook your head vigorously, a smile dancing on your lips.

“No, I just had a really fun time with you guys,” you replied, the sincerity of your words shining through the playful banter.

The walk to the ATZ house was a mix of lighthearted laughter and nonsensical chatter from the intoxicated boys, their voices rising and falling like the gentle breeze that swept through the night. With each step, the cool air seemed to sober them slightly, but their spirits remained high, buoyed by the camaraderie of the evening.

When you finally reached the front door of the ATZ house, the sight was almost comical. Hongjoong and Seonghwa struggled to keep Yeosang and Mingi upright, their attempts drawing laughter from Jongho and Wooyoung, who were busy trying to prevent Yunho’s tall figure from tripping over his own feet. San wobbled behind you, giggling uncontrollably at the chaos unfolding in front of him, and you couldn’t help but smile at the endearing mess of it all. Suddenly, San brushed past you, his hand casually touching your waist with an exaggerated flourish.

“Sorry, Y/N-ie~” he slurred, his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mischief. Your heart raced at his unexpected gesture, and a soft laugh escaped your lips. Clearly, he was quite drunk. As he stumbled forward, his shoulder caught against the doorframe, sending you into a fit of quiet laughter.

In a split second, you watched in mild panic as San teetered, about to lose his balance. Without thinking, you rushed forward to catch him, your hands gripping his arm just as his larger figure fell against you. The two of you tumbled back, hitting the near by wall. His body trapping you.

The dimly lit hallway felt impossibly narrow as you stumbled backward, your head colliding sharply with the unforgiving wall. A yelp escaped your lips, a reflexive reaction to the pain, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sudden, chaotic tumble of San crashing down on you.

“Y—Y/N! Are you okay!?” His voice, slurred and heavy with intoxication, broke through the haze. San’s hands instinctively cupped your cheeks, his gaze searching yours with a mix of concern and confusion. His touch was warm, and the worry etched on his face caught you off guard, causing your heart to flutter unexpectedly.

His fingers moved to the back of your head, gently patting your hair as he pouted. You couldn’t suppress a small smile, amusement bubbling up despite the awkward situation. But then, just as quickly, his expression shifted. The pout deepened, and a single tear spilled down his cheek, glistening in the dim light.

“Why am I always hurting you…” he murmured, his voice a soft tremor of sorrow. Your eyes widen at the sudden switch in his mood. Before you could respond, his head slumped onto your shoulder, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You gasp at his suddenly closeness.

“S—San?” you whispered, the surprise evident in your voice.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled, his words muffled against your skin, a confession filled with remorse.

“Sannie… it’s okay… I’m okay,” you replied soothingly, your fingers gently threading through his soft hair. You stood there for a moment, contemplating your next move. San’s tall frame leaned heavily against you, restricting any attempt to shift.

As if the universe had decided to intervene, a familiar voice called out, cutting through the tension. “Y/N?” Wooyoung’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Over here…” you responded quietly, not wanting to disrupt the fragile moment. Wooyoung appeared at the edge of your vision, and you could see the corners of his mouth twitch as he struggled to contain a laugh at the sight of you two.

“Woo, please! I think he’s asleep,” you urged, waving him over urgently. “Hurry, he’s slipping!” You felt the panic rise as San’s body began to lean dangerously, and Wooyoung sprang into action, securing San’s arm over his shoulder.

“Alright, let’s go, Sannie,” Wooyoung whispered, a mix of amusement and determination in his voice as he began to navigate the staircase. You followed closely behind, unable to suppress a giggle at the absurdity of the situation.

“Holy shit, San, you muscled up so much. You’re fucken heavvvvyyyy!” Wooyoung whined, his grunts echoing as he heaved San upward, inch by inch.

“Urrrrggghhh—Y/N?” San groaned, stirring slightly as he registered the movement around him.

“I’m your bestie, Wooyoung,” Wooyoung shot back sarcastically, barely containing a laugh.

“Where’s Y/NNNNN~” San whined, his body starting to tilt away from Wooyoung’s grip. Your heart raced as you quickly moved to San’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.

“I’m right here, San,” you said softly, offering reassurance as you held him close.

San tilted his head towards you, his flushed cheeks glowing even in the low light. His eyes, barely open, locked onto yours, and a small smile spreads across his face.

“Y/N~ I was looking for you~” he giggled, the sound pure and infectious.

You exchanged a glance with Wooyoung, both of you sharing a moment of disbelief before erupting into quiet laughter, the kind that echoed softly in the empty hallway, tinged with warmth and affection.

Finally reaching San’s room, you and Wooyoung maneuver carefully to lay him gently on the bed. The moment San’s body sinks into the mattress, both of you let out a collective sigh of relief, the tension of the night’s chaos starting to dissipate. Wooyoung adjusts San’s position, rolling him slightly onto his side, and then throws a blanket over him.

He glances around the small room, his eyes landing on the trash can in the corner. With a swift motion, he grabs it and places it right by San’s face, ensuring it’s within easy reach should he need it. You can’t help but smile at Wooyoung’s thoughtful gesture.

“Finally,” Wooyoung exhales, turning to you with a relieved smile that lights up his features.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, reaching for your hand. You clasp his fingers tightly as you both quietly slip out of the room, the hallway dimly lit and serene. As you step into the quiet corridor, Wooyoung’s voice breaks the stillness.

“Stay here tonight. It’s already getting late.” He takes your purse from your hand, which you’d been clutching onto since you’ve entered their house.

“It’s okay, I’ll just call an Uber,” you reply, already fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Wooyoung’s expression shifts in disbelief. “You must think I’m stupid if you think I’m going to allow that,” he hisses, snatching your phone from your grip before you can unlock it. You pout in response, your playful defiance only making him chuckle.

In a surprising moment, he leans in and plants a quick kiss on your lips. The unexpected warmth sends a jolt of happiness through you, and you gasp, smiling wide as you playfully swat his shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the spare room,” he says, intertwining his fingers with yours as he begins to lead you down the hallway.

“Can I… just stay in your room tonight?” you ask softly, halting in your tracks. Wooyoung stops and raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Hm, someone’s feeling naughty?” he quips, reaching for your waist and effortlessly throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a quiet surprised yelp. Trying to contain your laughter bubbling up as you hang on.

He strides toward his room, the door swinging open before he quickly shuts it behind him, the sound echoing in the cozy space.

“Woo! I’m not trying to do anything yet!” you giggle, tapping his shoulder playfully to signal him to let you down. “I just didn’t want to be alone,” you add with a mock pout as he finally places you back on the floor.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing, baby,” Wooyoung replies softly, his gaze lingering on you as he cups your face. For a moment, you both stand in silence, soaking in the peace that feels like a welcome reprieve after the night’s chaos.

Then, leaning in, he presses a warm kiss to your lips, and you feel a flutter of warmth spread through you. “I’ll bring you some face wipes and clothes to change into,” he whispers against your lips before stealing one last soft kiss and turning to leave.

You watch him go, feeling a rush of affection as the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you in the quiet comfort of his room. You stepped softly into Wooyoung's room, the air filled with the faint scent of his cologne. You made your way to his bed, sinking into the plush mattress that seemed to envelop you in warmth. Your gaze wandered around the space, taking in the carefully arranged yet slightly chaotic collection of items: clothes draped over a chair, shoes scattered on the floor, and a desk cluttered with notes and trinkets. Framed photographs adorned the walls and the nightstand, capturing joyful moments of him with his family. A smile tugged at your lips as you recognized the love radiating from those images.

A moment later, Wooyoung returned with a pack of face wipes and a cup of water. “Here you go,” he hands them to you and headed toward his closet. As you began to wipe away your makeup, you could hear the rustle of fabric and the soft clink of hangers. He emerged moments later, holding one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of shorts.

“Here,” he said, locking eyes with you, a teasing glint in his gaze.

“Can you turn around so I can change?” you asked playfully.

“No,” he replied, laughter bubbling in his voice. You scoffed, trying to mask your embarrassment as he smirked at you, then finally turned to face the wall. With quick movements, you slipped into his clothes, the fabric soft and oversized, engulfing you in his scent.

“Okay, I’m done,” you announced, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. He turned back to you and smirks.

“Ooh, you look sexy in my clothes,” he teased, leaning against the wall, his smile wide and infectious.

You rolled your eyes, attempting to maintain an air of nonchalance, but you could feel the warmth creeping up your cheeks. Wooyoung was definitely the boldest of the group, never hesitating to voice his feelings.

Feigning indifference, you began to gather your hair into a messy bun, focusing on anything but him. But he was already at your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. His gaze was intense as he studied your features, each detail seemingly etched into his mind. When his eyes drifted down to your neck, they widened in surprise.

“Did I do that?” he asked, gently turning your head to examine the faint red mark lingering on your skin.

“Who else could’ve done it?” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your words.

“Hm, I don’t know. Maybe Yunho did yesterday on the kitchen counter?” Wooyoung teased, brushing his thumb over the mark. You gasped, caught off guard by his sudden revelation.

“He told you that?!” you hissed, mortified.

“He told all of us,” he giggled, a mischievous glint in his eye. You sighed, shaking your head. Typical boy conversations. You should have felt embarrassed, but amusement washed over you instead.

“This is from you, Woo. I saw it once you left the bathroom,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hmm, that’s good,” he said with a smirk.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said, leading you toward the mattress. You plopped down, your heart racing as you caught him lifting his shirt. Heat flooded your cheeks.

“Oh, sorry, I can’t sleep with a shirt on…” he said casually.

“I—It’s okay,” you stuttered, sinking deeper into the mattress, your pulse quickening. Wooyoung tossed his shirt to the corner of the room, leaving him in nothing but shorts and a gold chain that glinted in the soft light. He plopped down next to you, a playful smile on his face.

“Come here,” he whispered, opening his arm. Hesitating for a moment, you scooted closer, a wave of comfort washing over you as you nestled into his embrace. You exhaled in satisfaction, feeling safe and warm against his chest. Wooyoung chuckled, tightening his hold, and together, you closed your eyes, drifting toward sleep.

“Wooyoung?” you whispered after a while.

“Hmmm?” He hummed, his eyes still closed.

“When did you start liking me?” You began to fiddle with his necklace, feeling the weight of the moment. Wooyoung shifted, his face aligning with yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“You want to know?” he asked, his voice teasing yet sincere.

You nodded, your curiosity piqued.

“As cliché as it sounds, I fell for you at first sight,” he confessed, his expression earnest. “With no conversation or interaction. But the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you to be mine.” He chuckled softly, rubbing his nose against yours, and you couldn’t help but giggle in response.

“Really?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“Mhmm.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, admiring your face as if it were a masterpiece. “I know I have a reputation for being a flirt, but I’m just nice to everyone, and they take it the wrong way. But I seriously, seriously only like you,” he declared, his voice steady and warm as he hugged you tighter.

At Wooyoung's confession, a warmth spread through your chest, making your heart swell with emotion. His words lingered in the air, wrapping around you like a soft blanket, filling you with a sense of belonging that felt almost surreal. You glanced up at him, your eyes shimmering with unspoken feelings, but he seemed lost in his own world, a contented smile on his lips.

As the gentle rhythm of his breathing filled the room, you felt a wave of tranquility wash over you. The atmosphere was cocooned in warmth and safety. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a golden hue across his features, illuminating the relaxed lines of his face, and you couldn’t help but admire him.

With each passing moment, your eyelids grew heavier, the comforting weight of sleep pulling you down. You nestled deeper into his embrace, savoring the feeling of his strong arms wrapped protectively around you. The scent of his cologne, a mix of warmth and spice, enveloped you, adding to your sense of comfort.

As you surrendered to the heaviness in your limbs, you allowed yourself to drift into a peaceful slumber. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of Wooyoung’s soft breathing—a steady, soothing cadence that lulled you into a state of blissful rest.

———

The morning sun poured into Wooyoung’s room, its golden rays breaking through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything it touched. You stirred awake, your body instinctively familiar with this early hour. As you turned, your gaze landed on Wooyoung, who lay beside you, deeply asleep, his arm draped over your waist. His tousled hair framed his face, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, peaceful and serene.

You stretched your arms above your head, feeling the pleasant pull of your muscles. Wooyoung shifted slightly at your movement, letting out a soft groan before instinctively cuddling closer, burying his face into your side. You chuckled softly, the sound escaping your lips before you could stifle it. "Woo~ I need to use the bathroom," you murmured, trying to extricate yourself from his embrace.

He whined in protest, tightening his hold on you. His breath warm tickled against your skin as he nuzzled deeper into you.

You giggled again, a light, airy sound that filled the room. “Come on, I really need to go!”

He looked up at you with sleepy eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “Should we go make out in there instead?” he suggested, leaning in to place soft kisses along your neck, igniting a flutter of laughter from you.

“Stop~” you squealed, trying to wriggle free. Finally, after a playful struggle, you managed to slip from his grasp and make your way to the bathroom.

After taking care of business, you brush your teeth with a spare toothbrush. You felt a sense of vitality wash over you. Instead of heading back to the cozy confines of Wooyoung’s room, you found yourself wandering into the kitchen, drawn by the promise of breakfast. As you opened the fridge, the sight of it reminded you of the boys' antics from the night before. You could already imagine their groans of hangover misery.

Determined to help, you decided on making Beef Short Rib Soup, a classic remedy that would surely bring them back to life. As you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and seasoning the meat, you felt a serene comfort in the rhythmic motions. The scent of the simmering broth enveloped you, and you lost track of time, relishing the moment.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a firm chest. You gasped softly at the unexpected embrace and turned to see Seonghwa, his face still adorned with sleep. His hair fell over his forehead, framing his gentle features, and that smile of his—so perfect and disarming—made your heart skip a beat.

“Good morning, pretty,” he said, his voice raspy with sleep, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good morning, Hwa,” you replied, a giggle escaping as he pulled you into a warm embrace. He rocked you gently, as if savoring the moment, and you melted into him, feeling utterly content.

“You didn’t have to cook, Y/N,” he said as he pulled away, his expression softening even more.

You shook your head, a smile brightening your face. “No, I wanted to. I hope you don’t mind I used what I found in the fridge,” you hastily added, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

“No, no, we don’t mind at all. Thank you, though,” Seonghwa said, a genuine smile lighting up his features as he ruffled your hair affectionately.

“Do you need help?” he asked, glancing around the kitchen, taking in the scattered ingredients and simmering pot.

“Hmm, no, I’m basically finished. Just waiting on the rice to finishing cook,” you replied, moving to grab some plates and utensils. Seonghwa turned towards you with a soft grin.

“Okay, I’ll go wake everyone up.” Before you could respond, he leaned in and planted a quick, unexpected kiss on your cheek. Your eyes widened in surprise, a warm flush creeping up your cheeks as you turned your head to face him, a soft smile spreading across your lips. He winked at you, his laughter echoing as he dashed up the stairs.

You took a moment to collect yourself, still tingling from the kiss, before focusing on the task at hand. The aroma of breakfast filled the air as you began plating the food, carefully arranging the steaming soup into nine bowls, each portion equally generous. With a satisfied nod, you moved towards the coffee machine, the gentle gurgle of brewing coffee providing a comforting backdrop. You watched intently as the rich, dark liquid flowed into the mug, filling your senses with warmth. Once the machine beeped, you leaned against the counter, taking a sip and savoring the bittersweet taste. Just then, Seonghwa returned downstairs, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Well, I tried to wake them up. Let’s just see who actually listens,” he chuckled, making his way towards you. You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading further at his lighthearted demeanor.

“Do you want some coffee?” you asked, lifting your mug to your lips once more. Seonghwa shook his head, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, drawing you nearer. He gently lifted your mug and set it on the counter behind you. He studies your facial features for a while.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” His voice was soft, almost shy. You felt your heart race at the question, and without hesitation, you nodded. A tender smile spread across his face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in the softest kiss you’d ever experienced. Butterflies danced in your stomach, and you melted against him as he cupped your face with one hand, deepening the kiss ever so slightly before pulling back. His thumb brushed over your cheek in a tender gesture.

“Can I get a morning kiss too?” a voice interrupted from the kitchen doorway, breaking the spell. You turned to see Jongho, looking adorably disheveled, his hair a mess, hiding in his hoodie and his eyes squinted against the brightness of the morning.

“Good morning, Jongho” you greeted, unable to suppress a giggle at his sleepy state. He shuffled over, trying to maintain a serious expression but failing as a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Good morning, darling,” he replied, his voice still thick with sleep. You pouted your lips playfully and tiptoed up to him, watching as a blush crept across his cheeks. Despite his efforts to appear composed, he leaned down and pressed a quick peck to your lips, making you smile wider.

As you released him, you took his hand and led him to the table, where you settled him beside Seonghwa. One by one, the other boys began trickling down the stairs, all looking equally exhausted from the night before. Each of them paused as they passed by you, planting quick kisses on your forehead or cheek, leaving you blushing and smiling at their affectionate gestures.

“Is San still asleep?” Seonghwa asked the group, glancing around. The boys shrugged, too preoccupied with their breakfast to offer much help.

“I’ll go check on him, keep eating” you insisted, raising from your seat.

You made your way upstairs, knocking lightly on San’s door. When there was no answer, you twisted the knob and stepped inside.

“San? Come eat. I made breakfast,” you called softly, but as you entered the room, San was nowhere to be found. You get distracted, finding yourself looking around his room. Your gaze drifted to his desk, where a photo caught your attention: it was from your middle school graduation, the two of you beaming with joy. A rush of nostalgia flooded over you, warmth spreading through your chest.

“What are you doing in my room?” The sudden voice made you jump, and you whipped around, a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks. Standing before you was San, fresh from the shower, his hair damp and tousled, his bare chest glistening slightly in the morning light. He wore only a white towel around his waist, and you couldn’t help but admire the sight for a moment longer than you intended.

“O-oh, um. I just wanted to tell you to come eat,” you stammered, quickly averting your gaze to the floor, your heart racing. San closed the door behind him, and your eyes widened at the sound.

“Okay, let me change—” he began, but you interjected hastily.

“Ah, let me go out so you can change!” You felt flustered, not wanting to intrude.

“No, stay. I’ll be quick. We can go together,” he replied, walking past you to his closet. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at his back, noticing the way his shoulders were broad and strong. (Y/N, chill) you scolded yourself internally, turning away to focus on the door.

“Should I take my time to change so you can stare longer?” San teased, his voice light as he pulled a T-shirt over his head.

“N-No…” you muttered, still facing the door, leaning your forehead against the wood and closing your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart.

“You okay, baby?” His deep chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, and you opened your eyes to find him fully clothed, watching you with an amused expression. You felt your face heat up as you nodded, wondering if he remembered the moments from the night before. Drunk San was sweet and clingy, a side of him that made your heart swell, while sober San was a mystery, his cool demeanor both intimidating and alluring.

“Let’s go eat,” he said, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers. You let him lead you downstairs, your heart fluttering with every step.

end of chapter 4…

Next chapter

.

.

.

.

.

.

Author’s commentary: Goddamn there was so much damn fluff in this chapter🤭. Please, I promise the build up will be worth it iykwim. Thank you all so much for the support! Comment or message me to be apart of the taglist! Scream in my ask box to fangirl! lots of loveeee <3

taglist:

@georgeanabanana @jaytheatiny @mxnsxngie @spenceatiny18 @sanhwalvr @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @joongscheese @therealcuppicake @velvetskize @hongjoongtime117 @jintastic-yuyu @meiguessss @sookacc @starygw3n @dimeb29 @mingtinysworld @sweetinsaniiity @pixie0627 @uninterested-ghost @ghostlovesworld @tigerlillytaffy @stay-tiny-things @xdinarymango @huachengsbestie01 @wooyoungsbrat @woohwastuff @vtyb23 @bambbiisworld @hwxbibi @cherryynoir @katykatmeow @laviedemamere @wyrated @sparda1234

[angelsdxmise]

Kiss me!

bakugo x gn reader (wc. 1k)

How your first (and sudden) kiss went with Bakugo.

Warnings: profanity

a/n: Please send me some requests! Enjoy the fic ❤️

Neither of you have had your first kiss yet.

While Bakugo didn’t seem to give it a slight glance, your heart fluttered with the simple thought of who or how it may go.

Which is one of the reasons you regret coming to this hangout. Mina and Ochaco were interrogating you.

“You seem to be super close with Bakugo these days y’know,” Mina whispered, merely 3 inches from your face. “Aren’t you guys technically dating?”

“Whaaaat?.. We’re just friends Mina!” You swallowed back the lump in your throat. “I mean, he’s cute or whatever, sure. I’m completely positive he doesn’t like me, he’s not like that and you know it.” She sighed in disappointment, sitting back.

Ochaco giggled, “I can’t recommend a lot of advice I usually would because Izuku’s practically the opposite of Bakugo,” Hums of approval came from you and Mina.

“But I do think he’s much sweeter around you..”

Your lips curled up, a familiar warmth covering your face. You fidgeted your fingers and rocked side to side to try to conceal your embarrassment. “Really? Is that good? Does it mean anything?!” You were practically beaming with excitement and hope.

Mina smiled at your flustered expression, “Of course it’s good! You know nothing about love, do you?” she inquired. You gulped at that thought.

“I watch romance movies I guess?..”

“Uh-huh..” Ochaco and Mina both sighed.

You attempted to recall your conversation with Bakugo earlier. “We planned a hangout tomorrow night. We were going to watch—“

“WHAAAT?!”

You slightly flinched at the girl’s squeals. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Mina asked, you could practically see her thoughts as she imagined a cliche romantic scene between you and him.

“We can totes help you out!” Ochaco was practically jumping with joy. A smile was plastered across your face, but nervousness still lay there underneath.

“It’s okay, I’m sure this will go smoothly.”

You and Bakugo were sitting on his bed, shoulders touching and your backs against the bed frame. You’d been watching a movie on his laptop and occasionally cracking jokes with each other.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna watch the Titanic? C’mon, please!” You begged, you had been asking him for days to watch it with you.

“I said no! I hate that sad crap. I said Insidious!” He snarled, he didn’t want to watch it. Honestly, you both had enjoyed horror movies on any movie nights you had together, but tonight you wanted to try something different. Especially since you never really watched sad movies.

“What, are you afraid you’re gonna cry?” You snorted. Your smile faded when he didn’t respond.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

“SHUT UP IDIOT!”

He nearly exploded you to bits and made you vow on your soul to not tell anyone.

Too tired to even keep debating, you settled on watching Insidious. Although you didn’t regret it you were still a little snarky after not getting to watch the Titanic.

Especially since you both abandoned the movie a while ago.

A cold breeze passes through the room, and you two are nearly cuddling each other. Laying on your sides facing each other, just talking. You had your head resting on your palm.

Throughout the laughter and constant giggles, you calmed down a little and looked at his eyes.

“Your eyes are really pretty, y’know?” A slight whisper came from you, he thought he wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t paying the most attention to you.

“Hah?” His movements abruptly stopped for a second as he stared at you.

“What?”

“I guess you’re pretty too, or whatever.”

You had the feeling this was what they were talking about. Mina mentioned that it’s always a little awkward, you’re just teenagers after all.

“No way! You’re capable of compliments?” You covered your mouth to try to hide your laughter.

“If you don’t shut up in the next 5 seconds I WILL blow you to the deepest pit of hell!” He growled and you were exploding with laughter at his aggression.

For a moment he stopped and time seemed to slow down.

You looked perfect. Your laughter was music to his ears. Nothing else seemed to matter, not the booms of Kaminari and Kirishima’s yells as they immersed themselves in their video game, not the sound of the movie still playing in the background.

You seemed to notice too, and you both held eye contact. Even though the tips of your ears were seemingly getting hotter, and you were starting to fidget in nervousness.

He was starting to get light-headed too. He doesn’t process his actions when he puts his hand in your palm, interlinking your fingers while his thumb rubs the back of your hand.

“Mina told me something earlier..”

Your eye twitched as he spoke. What the hell?!

“Oh yeah..? What’d she say..” You mumbled, already planning your escape as you impatiently waited for his next words.

He sighed, “Y/n, I think you know,” he glanced away for a moment. “I don’t know how to do this stuff.”

“And you think I do?” You tried to lighten up the mood, and thankfully it worked. He looked back at your eyes, the smallest smile appearing on his face. Which made you realize something.

Were you guys even closer than before? Why is your leg touching his?

Oh god. I’m gonna puke. Your teeth chattered a little. His palm was warm though.. not like you wanted to let go. You held onto his hand too, scooting a little closer.

“Wait, are we about to kiss?” Bakugo nearly fainted at your question. “I guess? Does it look like I know what I’m doing?!”

“I mean, is it okay if?—” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, a small peck. He stopped you from pulling away and initiated another kiss.

You both closed your eyes, and it felt like you were on cloud nine.

When you both pulled away, your lips were only about an inch apart, and you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

“Your lips are warm too.” You uttered, looking back up at him.

“You’re a terrible kisser.” He deadpanned, snorting at what just happened.

“Are you serious, Bakugo?”

“Call me Katsuki.”

7/4/24 💕