#“now youre being mean:(” “be grateful youre getting away with just 'mean'”

[strawchocoberry]

‘CAUSE I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. michael kaiser x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. heavily self-insert/mindy lore, kaiser’s birthday present, fluff interlaced with angst, slow, intimate sex at the end 

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. how much he means to you — word count. 2.4k

December 25th. 

And while the rest of the world is exhilarated, celebrating Christmas, for Kaiser today is just another day. Maybe one with more happiness and whatever is supposed to be this so-called ‘Christmas spirit,’ but still it’s just another day. 

You don’t even realise when Kaiser has left your bed. You wake up disoriented and alone in your bed, faint traces of him sleeping next to you lingering in the room. You take a deep breath and steel yourself. 

It was pure coincidence you found out that today is his birthday. Knowing him, he will just want to spend the day with you, give you your Christmas gift and maybe go out for a little stroll. Not even mentioning that today is his birthday, not even a small hint or anything. Even so, you want to make this day a little bit special for him. But you know you have to be careful and subtle about it, otherwise Kaiser might either explode or isolate himself from you. 

The day officially starts when he returns from the private gym of your apartment building. For all his grumbling about being too much of an unnecessary hassle to decorate the apartment, Kaiser has to take a moment to admire how beautiful this morning is, watching you, unaware of his presence, setting up breakfast on the coffee table next to the tree you had decorated together. So many new things you “forced” him to do, things he somehow found enjoyable. But only because he did them with you. 

The day passes by before you realise it. Despite your protests, Kaiser has bought you one gift, insisting that it’s from Santa, though he himself never believed in the guy. He doesn’t want a gift from you, your beautiful smile as he insists on you opening your gift is all he needs. He had wanted to buy you more gifts. In fact, he was planning on making you a tower the size of your Christmas tree made of gifts. But you had insisted on not wanting any gifts, so he searched high and low to find the perfect gift, something small and personal, something you wouldn’t be able to refuse. 

Unwrapping his gift, your eyes widen at the beautiful ring with a sapphire blue gem curved in the shape of a rose. You’re truly left speechless, admiring the craftsmanship of the ring. Kaiser, sitting on the floor next to you, props his elbow on his knee, leaning against his hand, and observes you with a small smile on his lips. That’s exactly how he had imagined your reaction. 

“You always tell me how much you like your reflection in my eyes, so I thought you could look at this ring and maybe think of me when I’m away,” he says simply, though his heart is beating so fast, Kaiser thinks it might burst. He realises he’s feeling anxious. Anxious that you might reject his gift. The thought alone is enough to make him want to kill himself. 

You surprise him before he spirals down in a loop of self-destructive thoughts by softly saying, “It’s perfect, thank you, my love.” He doesn’t have the time to say anything as you press your lips to his in a slow, intimate kiss that clears the fog from his mind. Kaiser lets himself fall under your spell, pulling you closer to him and getting lost in the overwhelming feelings you pour in your kiss. 

Kaiser doesn’t realise when you carefully pull a necklace out of your pocket and wrap your arms around his neck, clasping the necklace around his neck. When he pulls back, he looks down, taking in the blue rose pendant hanging from his neck. His eyes shoot up to meet yours and before he opens his mouth, you shut him up with another kiss. 

“You don’t need to force yourself to look happy or grateful right now,” you whisper against his lips when you pull slightly back, your eyes locking with his. “You can throw this pendant away right now if you want. But I thought you deserved a gift too today.” You pause, your eyes searching his, trying to gauge his reaction. But his expression is unreadable, even to you. “I just didn’t want to be the only one receiving a gift today,” you say with a small laugh, hinting how you knew he would definitely get you something. 

Kaiser is silent for a long moment. Usually, the pendant would feel like a noose choking him, but it doesn’t. Because it came from you. And he can tell you put great thought into this gift and you needed even greater courage to give it to him, knowing he would probably reject it. He’s in a loss for words, a foreign feeling blooming deep inside him. He only nods as a sign of acknowledging your words and gift, but neither thanks you nor takes the necklace off. Instead, he leans in for another kiss. 

The rest of the day passes by in a flash. The two of you spend your time together, going on strolls on the park nearby with hot chocolates in hand and later retrieving to your home for more private moments, watching Christmas movies while cuddling in bed together. You haven’t mentioned anything about Kaiser’s birthday yet, not having yet understood how he feels about your earlier gift. 

Kaiser hasn’t even thought of taking the necklace off. Whenever you’re focused on something else, he absent-mindedly touches it. He doesn’t exactly hate it, but it’s definitely strange for him. He hates receiving gifts, hates to be forced to be grateful for things he didn’t ask. But something about the way you presented your gift and how you didn’t expect him to thank you, it struck a chord in him. 

When the movie ends, the sun has already set outside. You carefully untangle yourself from his embrace, muttering to him to stay put. Kaiser quirks an eyebrow as he watches you leave the room, only to return a while later holding a white thick notebook with blue and red roses scattered all over its cover and back in your hands. You get back on the bed and sit next to him, hesitating before giving him the notebook. 

“What’s this?” Kaiser asks curiously.��

Your heart is pounding hard against your chest. “Read it,” you say softly, though your voice wavers just a bit, just enough to betray how nervous you’re feeling. 

Kaiser notices your nervousness, but doesn’t push you to reveal the reason behind it. Instead, he turns his attention to the notebook. Flipping it open on the first page, his eyes instantly widen, reading the date; the date the two of you met. He reads through the first few lines, before turning to look at you with one of his cocky smirks. 

“‘Today, I met the most arrogant bastard on earth,’” he reads what you’ve written. “‘God, I hope I never see him again. He was truly insufferable. Sure, he may be handsome and a star football player, but his personality sucks.’” Kaiser leans closer to your face, his smirk still intact. “So, I’m an insufferable, arrogant, handsome bastard, huh?”

“You are,” you respond, a spark of defiance igniting through your anxiety. “But now I’m better at handling your cocky imperial ass.” 

“Is that so?” he questions. He goes back to reading the entries in the notebook. Not five minutes later, he closes it, frowning as he turns to look at you. “Are you seriously having me read how much you hated me when we first met?” 

You can’t suppress a small laugh. You pull him against you, the back of his head resting against your chest, your fingers threading through his soft hair, as your chin sits gently on top of his head. “Just shut up and continue reading,” you whisper affectionately. 

Kaiser, ever observant, doesn’t miss the slight tension in your body. Instead of addressing that though, he goes back to reading the notebook you gave him. As expected, the first few pages are filled with you complaining about him being a complete dick back when you first met. But slowly, he notices the change in your attitude, in the way you wrote about him, about the two of you. He watches through your words how you slowly fell in love with him, way earlier than you admitted it to him. 

The pages transform in front of him the more he reads. As your relationship progresses, it’s not just your thoughts that fill the blank pages. The handwritten notes he had written for you, bookmarks of flowers from bouquets he had given you, receipts from places you had visited together and other little memoirs all glued to the pages next to small entries about how you felt for each and every one and how even his smallest gestures made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 

None of you realise how much time has passed. At the beginning, Kaiser occasionally commented on things you had written, but the more he read, the more he immersed himself in this small world on paper you had created, the more silent he grew. And when he reaches the last entry, the one you wrote at midnight last night, you’re holding back your breath, your hands stopping their soothing motion in his hair. But he’s too lost in the words inked on the white page to notice that or the way you’re biting your lip hard, trying to stifle a sob or how fast your heart is beating against your chest. 

December 25th 

It’s currently midnight and you’re grumbling about how I’m writing something and not paying attention to you. My blue rose emperor is always demanding my attention. I just hope that now, a couple hours later, that you’re reading this notebook you’ve stopped grumbling. 

I know you think nothing of this day, but I wanted to make it a little bit special for you. I love you, Michael. I loved you yesterday. I love you today. And I’ll love you tomorrow too. You’re my greatest gift and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always know that. 

Happy Birthday, Michael ♡ 

Kaiser slowly closes the notebook, leaving it on the nightstand. He doesn’t move away from you, but he remains silent for a long time. You can practically see the gears shifting inside his head as he’s processing everything. 

‘Happy Birthday,’ you wrote. Right, today is Kaiser’s birthday. After all these years, he had completely forgotten about it. He never told you, because it doesn’t matter to him. And yet somehow you found out nonetheless. And you even wanted to give him a gift, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him, knowing he hates surprises and gifts. Your thoughtfulness touches him greatly. 

He slowly turns in your embrace, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his arms around your body tightly. “Michael?” you call out his name softly. But Kaiser doesn’t respond.

And then you feel it; tears soaking your blouse and his body shaking with his sobs. For a fraction of a second you’re stunned, before your arms hold him closer, drawing soothing circles on his back. A tear slips down your cheek and a soft smile curls up your lips. You lean down and kiss the crown of his head, softly murmuring, “I love you, Michael.” 

Kaiser looks up at you, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears. He adjusts his position, leaning closer to you and cupping your cheeks in his large palms, his thumbs caressing your soft skin. “I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers as if afraid to break this vulnerable moment between you. “I could have never asked for a better gift than you.” 

His lips capture yours in a slow kiss, one filled with all the emotions and feelings he cannot convey with words. He’s overwhelming you in a whole different way than he usually does, making you get drunk on him. Kaiser slowly removes both your clothes until your bare bodies dance together in the sheets. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your lips. He kisses you, leaving you confused about his apology, but you realise what he meant when you feel him thrust slowly inside you, a slight discomfort spreading through your body at the lack of foreplay, but you don’t mind. You need to feel him as much as he does. 

Even so, you can’t help but tease, “Impatient bastard.” The smile on your lips betrays how you couldn’t wait either. 

Kaiser smirks, burying his face in the crook of your neck and peppering your neck with kisses and love marks. He doesn’t move, not yet, giving you time to adjust. Though the way your pussy tightens around his cock makes him groan slightly, barely holding himself back. He leans back to look at you, supporting himself on his elbows, his fingers gently caressing your cheeks. 

“But you love me,” Kaiser whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his voice and his eyes. It’s not a statement, rather him trying to convince himself that it’s true. That what you have is as real for you as it is for him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck gently, pulling him closer to you with a rare smile on your lips, one you reserve only for him. “I love you,” you whisper back and seal your words with a kiss, making every lingering doubt in his mind dissipate into nothing. 

You feel Kaiser slowly start thrusting inside you, wanting both of you to feel every second of this moment. Between kisses and moans, he keeps murmuring how much he loves you and how much you mean to him, his love pouring inside you with each deliberate thrust. He’s consuming you, but simultaneously you’re consuming him. 

“I feel like I’m stuck in a loop,” he confesses in a low voice, his words barely reaching your ears. He interlaces your fingers, holding your hand against the mattress, as he makes love to you. 

You’re so full of him, you’re at a loss for words. For a moment, you don’t know what he’s thinking, but as his body moulds against yours, you know there’s no other place you’d rather be than right here, right now, with him.  

“I don’t know what to do,” Kaiser whispers affectionately against your lips. “‘Cause I fell in love with you.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, plagiarise, translate or reuse my work

[littlelamy]

𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓪 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮

rafe x barry x reader!!

author's note: i know it’s a little early but merry christmas!🎄 and happy holidays to those who don’t celebrate christmas! ❄️ i’m so thankful for all the love i’ve received from my christmas posts this year—it truly means the world to me. i’m beyond grateful to have such kind, supportive mutuals, and so much love from each of you. thank you for being here, and for all your comments, dms, and reblogs! wishing all of you the best for the rest of the season.

it started with a text.

barry: party at mine tonight. bring that pretty ass.

you rolled your eyes when it came through—typical barry, always one step away from being inappropriate—but a smile tugged at your lips anyway. you were used to it by now, the way barry talked, the way he and rafe moved around you like wolves in a lazy orbit.

they were your friends. dangerous, maybe, but never to you.

so, you threw on a pair of jeans and a tight little sweater—something that hugged your curves, though you told yourself you weren’t dressing for them. the trailer park wasn’t exactly the place for your nicest clothes, but you still wanted to look good.

it was christmas eve, after all.

barry’s trailer was a mess of christmas chaos when you got there. lights blinked erratically from every surface, half a tree sat in the corner, and the smell of cheap beer mixed with pine-scented candles in a way that shouldn’t have worked—but somehow did.

rafe was already there, sprawled out on the couch with a beer in hand, his long legs kicked up on the coffee table like he owned the place. he glanced up when you walked in, and his lips curled into a lazy smirk.

“well, look who it is.”

“shut up,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

rafe laughed under his breath, taking another swig from his bottle. his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, trailing over your sweater and jeans like he was cataloging every curve.

barry appeared a second later, stepping out of the kitchen with his own beer dangling between two fingers. his grin widened when he saw you.

“there’s our girl,” he drawled, his tone syrupy-sweet. “thought you weren’t gonna show.”

“and miss this disaster of a christmas party? no way.”

barry barked out a laugh, motioning for you to sit. “c’mon, make yourself comfortable. we’ve been waitin’ for you.”

something about the way he said it—we’ve been waitin’ for you—made a shiver crawl up your spine, though you quickly pushed it away.

they were just being them.

the night started simple enough.

barry kept shoving drinks into your hand, though you only sipped at them, not wanting to get sloppy. rafe was quieter than usual, though his eyes never left you for long, the weight of his gaze always hovering just at the edge of your awareness.

the three of you sat around the couch, the music low and the lights dim. barry cracked jokes, rafe added his own snarky commentary, and you felt yourself relaxing—laughing, leaning back into the cushions, letting yourself melt into the easy comfort of their company.

but as the night stretched on, things shifted.

the silences between jokes grew longer, heavier.

barry’s gaze lingered a little too long when he handed you another drink, his fingers brushing against yours on purpose. rafe sat closer than he needed to, his arm stretched lazily behind you on the couch.

it was subtle at first—the touches, the looks, the heat slowly building between you.

you tried to ignore it.

they’re just messing with me, you thought. they always do this.

but then barry leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and said something that made your heart stutter.

“you ever think about us?”

you blinked. “what?”

barry’s grin was lazy, dangerous. “me and rafe. you ever think about us?”

the room went still.

your pulse picked up, heart thudding hard in your chest. “what are you talking about?”

rafe shifted beside you, his fingers curling against the back of the couch. “you know what he’s talkin’ about, baby.”

baby. the word sent a jolt through you, low and warm, settling somewhere deep in your stomach.

“you’re drunk,” you said, trying to laugh it off.

“we’re not drunk,” barry replied smoothly. “we’re just done pretendin’.”

“pretending what?”

rafe’s hand dropped to your shoulder, the weight of it warm and firm as he leaned closer, his voice a low murmur in your ear.

“pretending we don’t know what you want.”

your breath caught.

what i want?

barry’s grin widened when he saw the way you froze, his gaze dropping to the rise and fall of your chest.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a slow drawl. “we’ve seen the way you look at us. the way you squirm when we get close.”

“i don’t—”

“don’t lie to us,” rafe cut in, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh.

your skin burned beneath his touch, even through the denim of your jeans.

“we’ve been real patient,” barry said, his tone still teasing but laced with something darker—something dangerous.“waitin’ for you to figure it out on your own. but we’re done waitin’.”

you swallowed hard, your heart racing as you looked between them.

they’re messing with me, you thought again. they have to be.

but the heat in their eyes said otherwise.

rafe’s hand squeezed your thigh gently—just enough to make you feel it.

“you trust us, don’t you?” he asked softly.

the question hung heavy in the air, and you hated how quickly your resolve cracked. because the truth was—you did trust them.

you didn’t know when it had happened, or how, but somewhere along the way, barry and rafe had become your safe place. your friends. your boys.

and now they were looking at you like they wanted to devour you whole.

barry leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs wide as he ran a hand over his jaw, watching you carefully.

“so what’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” he asked. “you gonna let us give you a christmas to remember?”

you hesitated, your breath catching in your throat.

rafe’s thumb brushed slow circles against your thigh, his voice dropping to a murmur.

“say yes, baby. just say yes.”

you couldn’t breathe.

the weight of their words, the intensity of their eyes—it was too much.

“this isn’t funny,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

barry chuckled, low and dark, the sound rumbling in his chest like thunder. “who said we were laughin’, sweetheart?”

rafe’s hand on your thigh stayed steady, warm and possessive, like he was claiming you piece by piece. he leaned in closer, his breath fanning against your ear.

“we’re serious, baby. dead serious.”

your heart raced, and you felt like you were sinking—like you were being pulled into something you weren’t sure you could get out of. but the worst part? you didn’t want to stop it.

not really.

you glanced between them—barry, with his sharp grin and predatory gaze, and rafe, with his lazy confidence and quiet intensity. they were so different, yet so alike in the way they looked at you, like you were theirs.

“what do you want from me?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

barry tilted his head, his grin softening into something almost sweet.

“we want you to stop fightin’ it,” he said. “stop pretendin’ you don’t want this.”

“and what is this, exactly?”

rafe’s fingers slid higher on your thigh, his touch light but deliberate, sending heat pooling low in your stomach.

“this,” he murmured. “us. you. everything we’ve been waiting for.”

you shivered. “you’re insane.”

“maybe,” barry agreed easily, his grin returning. “but you like it, don’t you?”

you didn’t answer, because you couldn’t—not when the truth was written all over your face.

rafe leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “c’mere,” he said softly, tugging gently at your thigh.

“what—”

“c’mere, baby,” he repeated, his voice coaxing, almost gentle.

your body moved before your brain caught up, letting rafe guide you into his lap. you straddled him awkwardly, your hands bracing against his shoulders as you tried to ignore the way his body felt beneath you—strong, solid, warm.

barry whistled low, his grin sharp as he watched. “now that’s a sight.”

“shut up, barry,” you muttered, though your voice wavered.

rafe’s hands settled on your waist, his grip firm but careful, like he was holding something delicate. his eyes searched yours, softer than before—softer than you expected.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “just trust us, yeah?”

your breath caught. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded.

rafe’s lips curled into a small smile, and then—slowly, carefully—he leaned in and kissed you.

it wasn’t what you expected.

you thought rafe cameron would kiss like he lived—reckless, wild, and dangerous. but this? this was different. it was slow and deliberate, his lips soft against yours, like he was taking his time, savoring every second.

your fingers curled into his shoulders, holding onto him as the kiss deepened. his tongue traced your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up for him, and you did—letting him in, letting him take.

barry’s voice broke through the haze, low and teasing.

“don’t forget about me, sweetheart.”

you pulled back from rafe, your lips swollen and your breath shaky as you turned to look at barry. he was still sprawled across the couch, but his grin had faded slightly, replaced by something darker—something hungry.

“get over here,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated, glancing back at rafe, who simply smirked, his hands still resting on your waist.

“go on, baby,” he murmured. “don’t keep him waiting.”

your heart pounded as you slid off rafe’s lap, your legs unsteady as you made your way to barry. he watched you the whole time, his gaze heavy, his smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

when you reached him, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto his lap in one quick motion. you gasped softly, your hands landing on his chest as you steadied yourself.

“there we go,” barry murmured, his voice low and smooth. “that’s better, ain’t it?”

you swallowed hard, your pulse racing as barry’s hands settled on your hips, his grip rougher than rafe’s.

“you look good here,” he said, his gaze dropping to your lips. “real good.”

you opened your mouth to respond—to say what, you didn’t know—but barry didn’t give you the chance.

he kissed you hard, his lips crashing against yours with none of rafe’s earlier softness. it was all teeth and tongue, rough and demanding, like he was trying to claim you right then and there.

you whimpered softly against him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding up your back, over your sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your head spinning as you looked up at him.

barry grinned, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“knew you’d taste sweet,” he said.

you barely had time to process his words before rafe was behind you, his hands sliding up your arms, over your shoulders, until he was gently pulling you back against his chest.

“see, baby?” rafe murmured in your ear, his voice low and coaxing. “this is what we’ve been waitin’ for.”

you shivered, your body caught between the two of them—the heat of rafe behind you, barry in front of you, their hands and lips and words pulling you deeper into something you couldn’t escape.

but the worst part?

you didn’t want to escape.

you were caught.

you didn’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere between rafe’s soft whispers and barry’s hungry gaze, you had fallen in too deep.

and now? now, you couldn’t seem to find a way out.

rafe’s lips pressed against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver through your body. he was always so controlled—so calm. but tonight? tonight, he was losing himself.

his hands slid down your body, rougher now, as if he couldn’t help himself. you felt the heat of his touch everywhere, like he was marking you with every second you spent in his arms.

“don’t fight it, baby,” rafe whispered, his voice low, almost pleading. “you want this. we both know you do.”

barry’s eyes flicked over to you, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned back against the couch. “you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself. “both of you. but especially you, sweetheart.”

you swallowed hard, your body trembling under the weight of their gazes. the air felt thick—almost suffocating—as the two of them continued their slow, deliberate assault on your senses.

“what do you want?” barry’s voice was like velvet, smooth and dangerous. “tell us, baby. tell us what you want.”

you hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. everything inside you screamed to pull away, to push them both out of your life, to regain control. but there was another part of you—the part that ached for their touch, their attention, their everything—that didn’t want to leave.

“i… i don’t know,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

rafe’s lips curled into a slow smile as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot and needy. “we’ll help you figure it out, baby. don’t worry.”

his hands slid to the waistband of your jeans, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric, teasing and light.

barry’s eyes never left you as rafe’s fingers worked at the button. “you’re so fucking tempting,” he muttered. “can’t wait to see you bare for us.”

the words made your pulse spike, heat pooling between your legs as your breath caught in your throat.

before you could even register what was happening, rafe’s hands were slipping beneath your jeans, pulling them down, his fingers lightly grazing your skin as he exposed you piece by piece.

you gasped, feeling the vulnerability of it all—the way they were undressing you without a word, the way you were letting them.

barry pushed himself off the couch, his hands moving to your waist, spinning you around so that you were facing him now. his eyes were dark, filled with something primal as he took in your body, your exposed skin.

“you’re fucking beautiful,” he growled, leaning down to kiss you hard, his hands trailing up your thighs.

you whimpered against him, your hands grasping at his shirt, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss. there was no control left—just raw, desperate need.

rafe’s hand slid up your back, pulling you closer to him as he kissed your shoulder. “don’t forget about me, baby,” he murmured. “we’re not done yet.”

you couldn’t remember a time when you’d felt so alive, so wanted, but at the same time, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all spiraling out of control.

but fuck, it felt good.

barry pulled away from your lips just long enough to yank your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties. his gaze flicked down your body, and a dark, dangerous smile spread across his face.

“look at you,” he whispered, his fingers trailing down your chest, teasing your skin. “fucking perfect.”

you couldn’t even respond. your body was on fire, and all you wanted was for them to touch you, to claim you.

rafe’s hands were at your back now, undoing your bra with practiced ease. as the fabric slid away, he kissed your neck, his lips moving down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

barry watched, his eyes never leaving you as rafe took his time with you, each touch slow and deliberate.

“how does it feel, baby?” barry asked, his voice low, teasing. “to have both of us wanting you? wanting to make you ours?”

the question was too much. you couldn’t think. you couldn’t speak. all you could do was feel—feel their hands on you, their lips on your skin, their voices filling your ears.

“please,” you whimpered, the word falling from your lips without thought. “please, I need—”

“need what?” rafe’s voice was a low growl, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. “tell us, baby. what do you need?”

“you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i need you both.”

and that was all it took.

in an instant, they were both on you—hands everywhere, lips everywhere, their bodies pressing you between them as they devoured you.

you didn’t know how it happened, how things spiraled from teasing and tension into full-blown chaos, but it didn’t matter. none of it did.

all that mattered was them, and how fucking badly you wanted to be theirs.

"merry christmas to us," barry smirks, his hand grazing your bare skin as if testing just how soft you feel under his touch. his eyes flick to rafe, whose gaze is already fixed on you, heated and intent, his fingers tracing a lazy pattern along your hip like he’s memorizing every curve.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

credits to @anitalenia for the divider <3

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Bad Sanses x Reader who is going to wear a very revealing Mrs. Claus costume for a Christmas party? (Maybe with some Jealousy and Mistletoe too >:3)

Featuring: Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Ted, Error, Cross

Masterlist

Nightmare

Back into the bedroom you go.

He's not letting you out wearing these revealing clothes and no you are not seeing a bulge on his pants it's just your imagination.

The king of negativity would never let his partner walk around with such provocative wearing... Especially with his servants around.. he doesn't want them staring at what's clearly his!

Nightmare doesn't let it slide- even if it seems he does throughout the night- just enjoy the party while you can, before your legs stop working for some time..

Killer

If I tell you that he decided to wear the same thing..

The rest of the gang definitely were eyeing you two up and down with a "what the fuck" expression, Ted may even ask what on earth are you two wearing.

"Whatcha mean? We're just matching."

Is it possible that he convinces you to make out in front of everyone? Maybe. Will Nightmare kick your butts if you do? Absolutely.

Ted

At first he doesn't really realize, of course he asks if what you're wearing isn't it too fresh for this epoch of the year? but he brushes it off.

Yet when he sees Killer flirting while holding a mistletoe up between you two, he doesn't think twice before snatching you away to the bedroom. There's a "talk" he wants to have with you..

It didn't take long for him to be rubbing himself against you, pinning your arms on top of your head with his claw while he leaves bite marks all over the visible skin.

Now, he may finish the job right there.. or let you go back to the party with his mark all over your body and needy for the rest of the night.. it depends on his mood at the time.

Dust

He comes from the shadows and hugs you from behind while you're putting the costume on.

"Where do you plan on going with that? Exactly, nowhere."

He's not the type to care about the clothes you wear, yet he's not going to let you go almost naked to the party, not with Killer there! So either you switch clothes or he entertains you with something else..

I mean it's not a surprise that you find yourself moaning into a pillow while Dust rapidly thrusts into you, is it? Seems like you two will open your gifts on the 26th this year..

Cross

Quick to find you a sweater to cover you up, how can you come so exposed to a party in the middle of the winter??

Now, Cross is no innocent, he knows what you're trying to do, but it won't work, not with him! Or will it?

It's so convenient that you're bending down to pick something up when only he is present in the room, don't you think?

Killer already told him- "It's a win Criss-Cross, you get your gift now or only next year huh?" Yet he's sure that's only Killer being slightly perverted, no way you got him to be a type of cupid did you??

In the end, you get what you wanted. He cursing you out while thrusting deep into you, congratulations I guess?

Error

Bitch cover yourself.

It's almost NEGATIVE temperature outside and you're wearing a top with a mini skirt?? OH HELL NO.

He's surprisingly giving you his coat. You better be grateful idiot, it isn't everyday the god of destruction gives his precious clothes to a mere mortal.

Error's eyeing you up and down without you noticing, you think you have the right to provoke him like this?

"Ʉ₲Ⱨ ..ɎØɄ ฿Ɇ₮₮ɆⱤ ₱Ɽ₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ⱧɆⱤɆ ฿Ɇ₵₳Ʉ₴Ɇ ł₥ Ⱨ₳Vł₦₲ ₦Ø ₱ł₮Ɏ Ø₣ ɎØɄ ₩ⱧɆ₦ ₩Ɇ ₲Ø ฿₳₵₭ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₳₦₮łVØłĐ ɎØɄ łĐłØ₮.."

[star-centric]

Yellow Hyacinth (Jealousy) || Sukuna

MEANING: “In modern times, hyacinths are often seen as symbols of sincerity and the desire to convey one's emotions honestly to another person; on the other hand yellow hyacinths were associated with jealousy, expressing feelings of suspicion or resentment.”

A/N: Jealous Sukuna just does something to me 🫠 reader is gender neutral!

CW: modern AU, jealous Sukuna is a tad bit possessive, suggestive themes

Gojo had a way of getting underneath Sukuna’s skin.

He was convinced that Gojo was born to be the bane of his existence. That his only purpose on this planet was to be infuriating. Case in point- him hovering over you during this entire party. He kept his hands on you, and Sukuna could see how much you kept giggling.

Sukuna has never been one to be called jealous- he could get anyone he wanted. He was always chased and not the chaser, but seeing Gojo’s hands on you made his skin crawl. It was clear what he wanted, and he never failed at getting it either.

Gojo made eye contact with him, a nasty smirk lining his lips. He didn’t show it, but it made him more than annoyed. His presence alone grated his nerves, and his fingers tightened around his solo cup at the thought of him being around you.

But as much as Sukuna hated to even acknowledge Gojo, he did like a challenge. And he was probably the only one bold enough to push his buttons, putting on a show like this involving you. He didn’t waste any time moving through the crowd, keeping his narrowed eyes locked on you, who was none the wiser.

Gojo was in the middle of asking you something when you felt an arm wrap around your side, pulling you away. You softly collided into something warm, looking up to see Sukuna grinning.

“Ryu!” The same smile you were flashing Gojo was now on Sukuna at the sound of his nickname. You threw your arms around his neck, and all it was did was make him grin wider. The man beside you was already forgotten, as it should be. He glanced at Gojo, whose relaxed smirk didn’t reach his eyes.

But he didn’t want to waste his time on that filth when he had you in his arms.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” You yelled over the music. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

From the way you were pouting and tracing his tattoos on his wrist, Sukuna could tell that you were tipsy. Not at the point of being fully intoxicated, but drunk enough that you loosened up. Warmth began to coil in his stomach when your fingers outlined the marks on his cheeks.

Sukuna thought about making an example out of you, showing anyone and everyone that you were his and only his- but your fingers felt nice, and he could see the agitation slipping through the cracks of Gojo’s mask. He could save what he really wanted to do for later.

“Relax, I’m here now aren’t I?” He grabbed at your hands, stopping your movements and leaning in. “You missed me?”

He chuckled when you nodded, but blinked when you got pulled back. Back into Gojo’s arms.

“Hey, don’t forget about me.” He went to the crook of your neck, and Sukuna blinked as you sunk back with a ditzy smile, Gojo’s arms lazily cradling around you. When he mouthed jealous, Sukuna changed his mind.

He needed to make an example out of you.

He grabbed at your chin, tracing over the line of your jaw as he closed the already small gap between you. Your eyes widening only made his own darken as he deepened the kiss, already swiping his tongue against your bottom lip. He wanted to devour you whole, and leave nothing behind for anyone to consume.

Sukuna pulled away, his smirk returned at your dazed expression, already becoming undone at his mere touch. He wanted to make sure that everyone knew that this was his doing, not the man whose grip had gone slack around you.

But Gojo didn’t like to lose either.

As Sukuna was whispering in your ear to go somewhere private to finish this now, Gojo was already tilting your head to press his own lips against yours. Did he really think that he could overpower him? And that he could take you away from him? It made Sukuna scoff.

He closed the gap once more, kissing your neck and sucking down already on your sensitive skin. He didn’t care if he was making a spectacle out of it.

Sukuna would show everyone who you belonged to.

[anbaisai]

Finally had time to sit down and write, but honestly there’s not much to be said other than thank you to everyone who wrote a message on my tree! I really enjoyed reading every single message and screenshotting to save them into a folder for when I need a lil boost ww (including one from Mr. Viper himself above that got a laugh out of me, thanks Jamil really appreciate you thinking I’m cool)

Some sappiness under the cut:

I never expected to receive this much support for my silly yume/oc ship content when I began posting, and I really don’t have the words to express how grateful I am. I’ve met many wonderful people through this fandom, and also just had lots of fun in general making art. I mean it when I say I genuinely never had this much motivation and inspiration to create for any fandom (or original content) in the past. There was a long, long period in my life during which trying to find even a crumb of motivation to draw felt impossible. There was always some reason that I couldn’t - be it school/life being too busy, feeling too tired, having other stuff to do first, etc. I thought I’d never rediscover my love and passion for art, until I finally pushed myself to design my Yuu for real (instead of just thinking about it) and then everything just snowballed from there. (For context, I began playing TWST in 2020 and, despite being very much in love with it, only began drawing anything for it this year.)

I have such a massive list of ideas that I still want to draw (plus several asks that I want to answer that I just haven’t had the time to yet), so I’m certainly going to be kept busy for a while. After previously making every excuse possible for not drawing, I’ve learned that yeah, once you really love something you will squeeze time out for it no matter how hard things get, because it kills you not to. All those times when I wondered when I’d ever be able to draw as much as my favourite artists now feel like a distant relic of the past, and I have Twisted Wonderland (especially Jamil) and this community to thank for it. If anyone reading this is going through something similar, I promise it gets better - you will need to put in the effort to make it start, but you will get there.

There’s also my past experiences of being in fandoms that, well, did not welcome yume/self-shipping type content. If I so much as thought of creating any, the fear of being ridiculed would make me back away from the idea immediately. I’m glad to see that sentiment seems to be no longer the norm, but also the TWST fandom has been one of the most supportive of yume content I’ve ever seen. To everyone wanting to participate but has been hesitating, you absolutely should! My only regret is not starting sooner, seriously. In a sense I feel like I'm fulfilling a childhood dream of mine, and all of my past hesitation and anxiety just dissipated once... as cringe as it sounds - once love took over. So go pour your love and passion into that character you adore, they deserve it.

Anyways, wishing everyone a happy holidays and happy new year! Here’s to another year of enjoying TWST and creating for the things we love ❤

[riddle-me-ri]

how would the riddlers react to being shoved into a small closet with their crush? so basically 7 minutes in heaven ;3

a/n: hmm a few would be flustered but most would be annoyed lmao most of these will be accidents while a couple may be totally on purpose lol.

The Riddlers React to Being Stuck in the Closet w/ Reader

Arkhamverse Riddler:

- Oh great, oh great, this is fantastic!

- This is exactly why Edward insists-no ORDERS you to stay away while he's working!

- You got the two of you into this mess. You'll be one to get yourselves out.

- Edward barely gives you even a second to try and pry the door open or check the knob before he begins making his attempt.

- You couldn't deny enjoying the close proximity with the genius-

- There was a small floating bulb hanging from the ceiling that allowed you to enjoy some of his features-not to mention highlighting his toned arms–

- Your observations don't go unnoticed by Edward

- “Will you stop gawking and make yourself useful and get us out of here!” You definitely don't miss his slightly reddened cheeks.

Dano/Reevesverse Riddler:

- Definitely panics but tries to hide it…

- The claustrophobia lingers slightly–being with you, offering a slight comfort but being shoved in so close to your person-

- Edward is struggling to get a grip on his mind to find a solution to this predicament.

- He turns to face towards the door--so your body isn't pressed against his.

- Not that your body repulsed him..quite the opposite, and for that, he needed to try and create some distance even in this cramped space.

- However, he could still feel your soft and warm form even just pushed up against his side…

- Edward tries to remain steadfast on picking the lock-

- Once freed he catches his breath- only to lose it again at your genuine praise and gratitude.

Gotham Riddler:

- Oh well, isn't this just swell-

- He seems annoyed and frustrated at first…

- He sees a conundrum and just wants to be the one to solve it and-

- You're there awfully close beside him…

- Oh how impressed and grateful you would be to get you to out-

- You would bring yourself closer to him in an embrace on your own accord…not just cause you're both stuck in a damned broom closet.

- Your body was so close though…he has imagined a moment where you would be so close…

- Ah, he can't get distracted-there's plenty of time for those opportunities to arise-

- Like the sidehug you gave him when he finally got you two out.

BTAS Riddler:

- Edward's been showboating all night announcing his latest toy-

- You would've never known he could be coy until you found yourself stuck with him shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest with him.

- His face goes as red as his hair-

- He profusely apologizes for this predicament-

- Is that…sweat running down the side of his face.

- Edward tries to clear his throat and regain his composure as his gloved hand fiddles with the doorknob and keyhole-

- Edward practically jumps out of his skin when you place your hand on his shoulder for support.

- He becomes even more fidgety, between his twitching fingers and the damned purple gloves he's surprised himself that he managed to get the door down.

- Edward thinks he can take a breath of fresh air now that you two aren't trapped in a tiny closet-

- Until you thanked him graciously and topped off your statement with a sweet peck on his cheek.

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

- Asshole likely tossed you in here with him and locked the door.

- You know, that he knows, you know Edward has a key and could let you two out at any given time-

- But where's the fun in that?

- Edward is definitely going to tease you, egging you on to open the door yourself.

- I mean…if you want out so badly you can figure it out right?

- Surely, you can pick a simple old lock, right?

- You don't ignore Edward's hands as he strategically places his hands on parts of your body as you try to pick the lock.

- Ohh, you hate him, you hate him, PURE RESENTMENT

Gotham City Sirens Riddler:

- Well, this is better than having a bomb blow up in his face.

- Although…when he became a detective, he didn't think his life would turn into a teen sitcom-

- Edward reassures you that you two will get out and apologize for the inconvenience.

- A small side quest to do some reconnaissance has turned into a greater dibocal than it ever needed to be.

- However, as Ed kept mulling over in his head-it could very well be worse…

- He did always wonder what it would be like to have you close to him…mere centimeters apart.

- He tries to keep a confident cool about him, whether it’s to put you or him at ease, neither of you can say.

- The awkward scenario did put you two in a position to just talk casually about whatever came to mind.

- It made the forced proximity seem less suffocating and more comfortable…you two were able to find yourselves chuckling at your ordeal even as you finally escaped.

Telltale Riddler:

- Oh what a preposterous, careless quagmire you two are in.

- Edward is mostly exasperated at the dilemma-

- How in the hell did he-no you-no…just how was this even possible?

- Ed demands you give him room (which wasn't much) as he begins trying to get the door open.

- He picks the lock and even begins to try and ram the door open-

- You try your best to get him to calm down-

- Ed may have some umph that lets him keep up with Batman, but he was still a much older man.

- After considering your advice, Edward was able to free the two of you…he silently mumbles some gratitude towards you that you didn't miss.

Young Justice Riddler:

- Oh, what a cruel, cruel joke…

- Apologizes profusely, literally does everything he can to try and bleed through the walls somehow and escape this scenario altogether.

- Fumbling with his hands and other ligaments to not touch you…anywhere especially anywhere…suggestive.

- As Eddie's apologizing, you're reassuring him that he's fine. Everything's fine…you two just need to get out.

- You suggest picking the lock on the closet and Eddie takes the initiative-

- (totally not just something to distract himself from how physically close he is to you)

- Eddie's face reddens tenfold when you somehow nestle against him and give him words of encouragement.

- Your warmth, your presence, being surrounded by you in this cramped closet…

- Eddie comes to terms with the fact that he may very well just die here-

- But before he concedes to his death, the door opens, and he unceremoniously tumbles as the door he is supporting himself on quickly swung open-

- You catch him before he can face plant on the ground-

- Now he's flustered at the fact you held his hand~

[sierra-touge-bitch]

OKAY SO APPARENTLY LIKE THE LAST THIRD GOT CUT OFF (I guess there's a character limit I just leaned about??) HERE'S THE REST OF IT

@initialdsecretsanta @toffiendfee

Oh yeah, today was Christmas. Takumi didn't really celebrate the holiday, and failed to notice the lights and garlands around the Takahashis' house.

"Uh, sure."

"I'll get you some breakfast too. Sit tight."

For some reason every time Takumi talked to Ryosuke, he always felt... intimidated? And here he was in his house being catered to. His face felt a little warm once Ryosuke left the room.

Keisuke was just standing and staring aimlessly in the kitchen. He didn't know if the crash or Takumi coming to pick him up was more embarrassing. Ryosuke walked in and noticed his brother acting strangely. Perhaps Keisuke had gotten a head injury.

"Keisuke, go sit with Fujiwara while I cook. I'm grateful to him for bringing you back."

"I can't do that, he's... him."

"That was the worst excuse I've ever heard. Go sit down and I'll get you some water."

Keisuke reluctantly went to the couch and sat a reasonable distance away from Takumi. He looked at him and all he could think was "warm," but it would be weird if he just leaned against him.

Takumi decided to break the ice.

"How're you feeling?"

"Head hurts."

"So what happened, if I may ask?"

"..."

Keisuke didn't want to be hostile, but he didn't want to tell Takumi what happened, either. Seeing the car under the guardrail should have been explanatory enough.

"I went over my limit. I didn't realize how much snow there was. I lost control and crashed," Keisuke eventually said.

"Don't be too down on yourself about it, I've done it too. I blew the engine on the 86 a while ago. It happens to everyone," Takumi tried to sympathize.

"... I guess." After the whole ordeal, Keisuke felt more like he could talk to Takumi and see him as more than a rival. It felt nicer this way.

"Refreshments for the two aces," Ryosuke announced as he entered the room with the cocoa and water.

"Hell's that supposed to mean? And why don't I get cocoa?" Keisuke complained in a whiny manner.

"Because you injured your head. Just water for you." Ryosuke set the cups down on the table and walked back into the kitchen.

Keisuke slightly put his arms out in protest, but his brother had already left the room. He looked at Takumi who seemed to be spacing out, then grabbed the mug of cocoa and took a sip. Takumi looked back towards him, and Keisuke just innocently looked away.

"You can have some if you want, I don't mind," Takumi nudged the mug a bit towards Keisuke.

"Nah, it's fine. It burned my tongue anyway."

After a few minutes of occasional exchanged glances and Keisuke sneaking more cocoa from Takumi, Ryosuke called the two to join him at the table.

Takumi was hungry. The smell of the food made his mouth water. He immediately got up and walked to the table (can't look too excited).

Keisuke groaned as he got up from the couch and followed Takumi. Ryosuke was sitting at the head of the table with his own plate of food and another on each side of him. Takumi and Keisuke sat down opposite each other, the former intensely staring at the enticing dish in front of him.

"Fujiwara, I want to thank you again for bringing Keisuke home. And Keisuke, I'm happy to see you safe. I hope my special Christmas breakfast doesn't disappoint." Ryosuke gave a little speech before Takumi dug into his omelette. "Hungry, aren't you?"

Takumi looked up with his mouth full and his cheeks red. He gave a quick nod, slowing down his eating.

Keisuke picked at his food. He didn't really have an appetite.

"Keisuke, is something wrong? You normally love omelettes. Did your injury take away your appetite?" Ryosuke asked.

"I dunno. Probably. Fujiwara.... thanks for helping me." Keisuke replied awkwardly.

Takumi looked up again from his now empty plate.

"Oh, it was nothing. I just wanted to help, that's all," he said, scratching the back of his head. He thought about how soft Keisuke's hair had felt earlier and wanted to reach out and grab it again, but he suppressed the urge.

"Well, if it's okay, I'm gonna head home now. My dad's probably wondering why I'm so late."

"My apologies. It was nice having you here with Keisuke. If you have to go, then I'll let you." Ryosuke had just finished his plate as well. He stacked Takumi's on top of his.

"Thanks for the breakfast. And I hope you feel better, Keisuke." Takumi got up and walked towards the front door to put his shoes on.

"Don't be a stranger. Call me if you ever need anything. And let me know when you decide about the expeditionary team."

Takumi looked back at the brothers for a moment. When he'd first met them, they were just other street racers, but now he saw them more as really nice guys, if not more than that. He blushed a little when he caught himself staring. Hopefully they invited him over more often. Before he turned around, Keisuke gave him a nod.

The sun's rays broke through the fog as Takumi walked outside towards the 86. The snow on the ground began to sparkle with the new light. Now he had to drive back home and explain to his dad what happened. He already missed the warmth of the Takahashi house. Maybe if he joined Ryosuke's team, the three would be able to spend more time together and have more moments like that. Takumi looked forward to it.

@toffiendfee here is your Secret Santa gift! Sorry if it's not great, I've never really written fanfic before lmao

Anyway...

Blood on Fire

(This takes place around Third Stage)

The heat of summer, although long, never lasts forever. Eventually it fades away into the relentless season of cold and bitterness. To most spirited drivers, winter is a time to rest, ponder, and plan for upcoming endeavors to take place once the ice begins to thaw. But for others, the constant yearning to better their skills outweighs any care about conditions and risks.

Especially for Keisuke Takahashi. He had been considered the fastest driver in the Gunma locale, tearing up the roads with his Mazda RX-7 FD3S. Racers and enthusiasts feared him. He was incredibly skilled, second only to his older brother, Ryosuke. Although Ryosuke was his roadblock between being Gunma's greatest racer, Keisuke did not see him as such. His older bro was someone to look up to, to emulate, to learn from. After all, Ryosuke was the one who led him and raised him into the world of touge racing. Keisuke had the privilege of learning straight from the best, the unbeatable. What more could he ask for?

However, just this past summer, his exaltations of his beloved brother were shattered. His invincible mentor, the best street racer he knew, was dethroned by a junky 15 year old Toyota Corolla driven by a young kid who looked to be half asleep. But Keisuke dealt with more than just the sting of Ryosuke's upsetting loss. He was the one who was beaten by him first. His 350 horsepower rotary engine was made out as a joke by this random guy who just showed up one day in his shitbox.

And it would never happen again.

Winter was coming. To most enthusiasts, this is a time to take a break and maybe do some upgrades and maintenance. To Keisuke? Any time not spent out on the road was time wasted. If he was going to prove he was the fastest driver, he needed to spend every second possible improving his technique.

"Keisuke, I'm impressed with how much you've been practicing lately. But you're allowed to take a day off, you know. It's Christmas Eve."

The blond grabbed his keys and was just about to head out the door when he heard the voice of his older brother in the next room. He slowed his pace towards the garage upon hearing him, pondering his words. He'd been in the driver's seat of his FD just about every free second he had. Maybe he did deserve a break.

But he couldn't. Any idle time meant time not spent practicing. He couldn't let the tofu boy surpass him. He had to get out on the road. Nothing was going to stand in his way. He glanced back intently at Ryosuke with his hand on the doorknob.

"Aniki, I can't. Sorry."

That was all he said to his concerned brother before he quickly exited into the garage. There was a certain fire about his eyes, a fierce glow of sought revenge and determination. Even if it killed him, he was going to keep driving nonstop until his fated rematch.

The FD's rotary engine hesitated for a second to start in the cold, but after giving it a little bit of throttle it fired up. Keisuke hardly gave the car a chance to warm up before dashing away on the street. His boiling emotions were drowned out by the roar of the 13B engine as it screamed down the road toward the domain of his rival.

The sun was long gone by the time Keisuke left the Takahashi household. Darkness covered the world around him, hazed by a layer of light fog. Some snow lay on the ground, but the roads had been plowed recently, leaving them clear. It was quite cold outside as well, but Keisuke was kept plenty warm inside his car by the heater and his burning rage.

The determined Takahashi didn't even hesitate when he reached the bottom of Mount Akina. He knew what he was here to do, and he was gonna get it done. The FD began charging up the mountain. Although his opponent stood no chance against him uphill, making it unnecessary to practice, Keisuke knew that the quicker he got to the top, the more time he had for downhill runs. He continued his climb, expertly rounding the five consecutive hairpins. His control over the Mazda RX-7 was near perfect. He could feel every shift in weight, every loss in grip, every braking point, every apex. Since the end of summer, he had been obsessively running up and down Mount Akina. He basically knew every corner by this point.

About halfway up the mountain, Keisuke felt like he was more in the zone than he had ever been on any other practice run. Maybe because it was a holiday, and only those who are extremely dedicated to their craft wouldn't be lazing the day away. As fog started to form on the windshield, he cranked up the defroster to the highest setting. The temperature was beginning to rapidly drop outside, and the wind picked up. Even at his speed, Keisuke could feel the wind nudging him from side to side. There was a faint voice in the back of his mind telling him that the weather could keep getting worse, and that he should call it a night after his downhill run and head home. But why should he? Any good driver should be able to handle any sort of road conditions, no matter how bad. He silenced the nagging in his head with the sound of his engine.

Entry, brake, apex, accelerate. Brake, slide, power out. This line will set up the next. Perfect.

Keisuke couldn't be more in tune to his driving than he was at that moment. Every move felt natural. He was riding a rollercoaster operated by his nonconscious. His body instinctively guided the car up the road, reaching the mountaintop with adrenaline coursing through his veins. With no hesitation, he whipped the car around and began flying down the hill, not wanting to lose his high from the run up. Nothing could break his concentration at this point. Not even the snowflakes beginning to accumulate in his field of vision.

Back at the Takahashi home, Ryosuke stood by his window watching the snow fall and quickly stick to the ground, blanketing the town in a soft field of white after only a few minutes. Although he had previously emphasized snow as being excellent for driving practice, the raven-haired man couldn't help but worry about his younger brother. He stared out from his bedroom watching the flurry on the other side of the glass. It was becoming near impossible to see across the street in the whiteout. He resisted the impulse to check the weather forecast. No matter what it said, he wouldn't be able to contact Keisuke in the thick of it. The cold emanating from the window bit at his nose. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.

The yellow blur continued barreling down Mount Akina at his usual insane speed, caught up in the wind of his driving and ignoring the road in front of him turning white. Sure, Keisuke noticed the tires losing grip as he cornered, but he would instinctually correct any slide he found himself in. If he could master snow, then what could he possibly have to fear in his driving career? If anything, this was more of a perk to him than a hurdle. He opened the throttle a little more as he hit a straighter section, the shout of the rotary engine further fueling him like a high-energy song. The twin turbos spooled up in harmony with the howling wind.

The FD shot towards the five consecutive hairpins like a bullet. Keisuke knew in his mind exactly where he should start braking. He pictured the upcoming turn in his head and pushed the pedal in. As he did so, his rear tires gave up their traction. A pang of fear shot throughout his entire body as his car lost grip. The tires glided on the slick snow as the FD rocketed straight towards the outside of the corner. At this speed, he couldn't possibly regain control.

He did it, he broke his limit.

The last thing Keisuke felt at that moment was a sharp pain in his head.

The RX-7 came to an abrupt stop wedged underneath the guardrail of the first hairpin. After only a couple minutes, the snow absorbed the bright yellow car into the rest of the scenery.

"Up and at 'em, sleepyhead. Your alarm went off 15 minutes ago."

"Crap, did I oversleep?!" Takumi nearly jumped out of bed at the sound at his dad's voice. By the time he aligned himself with reality, the old man had already left the room. "So cold..." Takumi shivered after emerging from underneath his cozy blanket. He looked out the window as he usually does, but couldn't see much through the dense fog apart from the subtle bloom of the street lights. He dragged himself down the stairs, feeling like he'd rather just fall and let himself slide the rest of the way. Something about cold, gloomy weather makes him sleepier than usual. Probably because anyone with an ounce of sanity wouldn't be awake, let alone outside, in this.

When Takumi stepped out the door, some flakes were still gently falling from the abyssal sky. He fought with the door of the 86 for a second before yanking it open and stumbling backwards in the snow. His cold hands turned the ignition key to bring the AE86 out of its short-lived hibernation. The engine struggled to get going, but eventually started up after a few cranks. Desperate for some warmth while the car warmed up, Takumi stood at the exhaust pipe exit. He held his frigid hands out in front of it to attempt to regain some feeling in them until the car was warm enough for the heater to work.

He could only stand being out in the elements for about a minute before leaving his source of warmth and retreating back to the driver's seat of the 86. He shook the snow out of his hair before sitting down. He leaned his face against the steering wheel eyeing the coolant temperature gauge, waiting for it to begin moving. He could have passed out right there if the knock at the window didn't jolt him awake. His dad opened the door and handed him the paper cup.

"You know the drill, don't spill the water. And no sleeping at the wheel."

"Yeah, okay," Takumi replied sleepily, grabbing the cup and putting it into the cup holder. He closed the door, put the car in gear, and turned onto the street towards the mountain. Once he was on the road, his focus was more tuned in to the drive. About an inch of snow covered the pavement. Snow was no problem for the Fujiwara boy; delivering tofu every single day no matter how bad the road was made him quite the seasoned driver. The Trueno's studded tires kicked up snow behind them as Takumi opened the throttle. He started his trek up Akina's mountain road. Everyone thought his car was ridiculously fast, like a monster was under the hood, but the drawbacks of the 4A-GE became crystal clear on an uphill climb. As the road became windy, though, Takumi unleashed his immaculate cornering ability, sliding through the snow like a crazy horse-drawn sleigh.

He glided towards the consecutive hairpins, taking care to not be too rough as to not ruin his fragile cargo. If anything were to happen to the tofu, Bunta was sure to do the same to Takumi's brain. The water rode the inside rim of the paper cup and threatened to splash out. Even with the challenge of not spilling the water, Takumi learned to control the car to keep it steady while also maintaining a quick pace. The five consecutive hairpin turns proved to be a challenge early on in his driving career with the back-to-back weight shifting. Through years of practice, though, the section became second nature to him.

As the 86 began to round the last left hairpin, Takumi noticed a snowbank sticking out into the road that wasn't normally there. He knew where piles of snow usually show up in storms, but here wasn't one of the normal spots. As he continued around the corner, a subtle flash of yellow caught his eye. He briefly thought about his race a few months ago with Keisuke Takahashi and his brilliant yellow FD. He shook his head to himself, it couldn't be it, why would it be here now, off the side of the road nonetheless? He kept telling himself he'd just imagined it, but the thought lingered in his head. Besides, if he were to stop right now, the tofu delivery would be late. He'd see if it was still there on his way down.

The snow on the pavement became deeper with the elevation gain. Knowledge was keeping Takumi on the road more than being able to see the course itself. When he recognized he was coming up on the lake, a small sigh of relief came out of his mouth. Snow driving wasn't anything new to him, but God, was it a chore. He pulled up to the hotel, popped the hatch, and brought the tofu inside. Walking back to the car made Takumi wish he had better snow shoes since his feet were getting a little chilly. He got back in the panda Trueno and blasted the heater to thaw his toes. Maybe next time he'll stop at Itsuki's and see if he has any plastic bags to keep his shoes dry.

Takumi began his downhill drive once feeling returned to his feet. Without the numbness plaguing his mind, the mound of snow at the hairpin took over his thinking. Something just felt off to him. What if something had happened to Keisuke? He was pretty rude, sure, but he would never wish anything like that upon him.

The hairpin approached and the snow pile remained. The dawn sun slightly illuminated the foggy landscape. Now it was obvious that there was in fact a snow-covered FD with a giant wing on that corner. Takumi pulled over and put on his hazard lights (in case anyone was insane enough to be driving on this road in this weather). The water slowly seeping into his shoes didn't matter now. As Takumi neared the car, he brushed the snow off the driver window.

The blond young man laid there in his seat with his head resting on the steering wheel, motionless. The front end of the RX-7 was smashed up from being pushed under the guardrail. The body work was definitely going to be expensive, but there were bigger things to worry about.

Reluctantly, Takumi knocked on the window in some feeble attempt to wake the unconscious driver. No response came. He then reached for the door handle and pulled it. The front of the door scraped against the fender and let out a crack as the teenager broke the icy seal keeping it shut. His hand approached the older man's shoulder.

"SHIT!" Keisuke yelled the second Takumi's hand made contact with him. Immediately, Takumi jumped back, hitting his head on the door frame.

"Ah, sorry! Ow..." Takumi rubbed his head from the impact. Keisuke was wide awake now. He looked at who just tapped him. Once it struck him who it was, he looked straight at the windshield to avoid eye contact.

"Hey man, are you okay? I thought I saw your car on my delivery so I figured I'd..."

"Shut up. This is your fault." Keisuke uttered silently.

"WHAT?! What did I do?!" Wow. You come to help a fellow racer you've met before and the first thing he does is attack you.

"You're the reason I'm here. You beat me not once, but twice. And my brother. And then you just go winning every challenge you come across like you're the main character or something. I've been running up here every chance I get. Because one day I'm gonna beat you. Here. I'm gonna show you that I'm not just another win on your list. I'm more of a racer than you'll ever be! You're just a stupid kid! In a shitty excuse for a car! How can you even..." His tone began to shift from anger to sadness, "just my damn luck, I swear," Keisukes head lowered. He tried to sniffle quietly so his rival, at his car door, wouldn't hear. He failed.

"Listen, I just came here to help you. Are you hurt? I can take you to a hospital," Takumi was much more focused on Keisuke's well-being than any of the words just shouted at him.

The blond didn't even flinch. His arm was covering his face. He said nothing. It was clear the greatest injury he sustained was to his pride.

"Come on, get in my car. I'll take you home if you want."

"..."

"...please."

Keisuke barely whimpered out the word. There wasn't anything to hide anymore. He'd showed all his weakness to his enemy, who was trying to help him. Nothing to lose now. He took Takumi's hand that was offered to him. A wave of relief and comfort washed over him as he felt the warmth of his hand. He stepped out of the car and leaned on Takumi as they walked towards the idling 86. Through the pounding of his head, all Keisuke could think about was how warm his human crutch was. His feet moved by themselves until the two men got to the white and black hatchback.

Takumi guided Keisuke to lean on the car while he opened the door. Before he walked around to the driver's side, he reached up to ruffle the snow out of Keisuke's hair. Keisuke just stared at Takumi with a tired but confused look.

"Dad doesn't like when the seats get wet," Takumi said after an awkward period of silence. He got into the driver's seat and began driving slowly down the mountain.

The drive was almost completely silent aside from Keisuke giving one-word directions to the Takahashi house. Not many people were on the road since most were spending Christmas with their families. As they pulled up to the house, Takumi parked in the street. He took a look at the house and stared in awe. He knew the Takahashis were rich, but their house looked like something he'd only see in a movie. He and Keisuke, now fully awake, walked up to the front door. Takumi knocked.

"You don't have to do that, this is my house." Keisuke opened the door and went inside. "You can come inside if you want. Aniki's probably making breakfast or something."

Takumi stood blankly at the door for a second before the offer processed in his head. As he stepped inside the house, he was entranced by how clean and fancy it was. Words couldn't describe the feeling of being invited into such a rich house. It was quite humbling.

"You can go sit on the couch," Keisuke gestured towards the most comfortable piece of furniture Takumi had ever seen in his life. It called to him. He nonconsciously drifted towards it like it was pulling him in. He plopped onto the cushions and sunk right in. He could have fallen asleep right there if he wasn't kept awake by the nerve of being in Keisuke and Ryosuke's house. They both are so rich, so skilled, so good-looking...

Ryosuke got himself dressed and came down the stairs upon hearing his brother's voice. He'd been silently worrying about him all night, especially considering he'd not been home at his usual time.

"Good morning, Keisuke. How was last night's run?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Keisuke responded from in the kitchen. He was rummaging through the fridge for something to snack on.

"Alright, I won't pry. If you're hungry, I'll cook something for you," Ryosuke playfully nudged his younger brother away from the fridge.

Keisuke rubbed his head in response with a light groan.

"Come on, be careful. My head hurts."

Ryosuke's expression turned from a smile to one of concern.

"Did something happen last night?" He asked sternly.

"I lost control on a corner and ran off the road. Fujiwara woke me up and took me home."

"Oh, Fujiwara. Is he here now?"

"He's on the couch."

Ryosuke walked over to the couch and was greeted with Takumi's wide eyes staring right at him.

"Ah, Fujiwara, good morning. I see you brought my brother here?"

Takumi was like a deer in the headlights at the shock of Ryosuke talking to him. It wasn't even near the first time they'd spoken. Ryosuke had asked him a few weeks prior in person to join an expeditionary team while he was at work, as well as asking how to get in contact with Kyoichi Sudo. Talking to him in person definitely felt a lot more awkward than over the phone, but even just his presence was enough to get Takumi anxious.

"Oh! Uh, yeah. I saw his car on the side of the road and went to go help him, and I offered to bring him home. The car doesn't look too good, though."

"I thank you for that. I was concerned about him driving in this storm. Don't worry about the FD, we'll take care of it. Would you like some hot chocolate? It's a good Christmas drink."

Oh yeah, today was Christmas. Takumi didn't really celebrate the holiday, and failed to notice the lights and garlands around th

[voidcat]

At the beginning it was Narumi's impulsive and impatient ass that'd rush to any yamazon order he sees delivered to the base and grab them all for himself before checking for the possibility that some of them might not be his...

But after one too many times getting scolded by your, getting his ear pulled or getting into a heated argument with you- right in front of many people no less- He sees the fruit garden of an opportunity as it is, and decides to use it for his advantage.

Especially when the orders /are/ delivered to his person by accident.

Who can blame the poor delivery guys though? They are giving the boxes to him by muscle memory at this point- sick of coming back to the base doors day after day and always the same darn name on the papers: Narumi Gen

Meanwhile Narumi enjoys seeing the growing frustration on your person when the telltale message of "orders delivered" has arrived yet there is nothing in sight. Some orders have you worried more than the others, piquing his interest and going as far as to try his chances every once in a while when he's feeling bold: "Oh? You want these so badly? Then beg"

(It results with a hardcover book of yours meeting with the crown of his head every single time. Always a different book and the current one always heavier than the previous...)

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[satoruxx]

normally toji prides himself on being the perfect guard dog—not that he would ever tell you that. but you never have to worry about guys coming up to you when your hulking monster of a boyfriend remains at your side, continuously glaring down his nose at everyone he sees.

this usually works pretty well.

on adults.

but now, as you and him wait in line at the counter of the grocery store, he can only let out a huff of irritation as he watches the little brat in front of you both stare over his mother’s shoulder—big wide eyes locked on you.

at first you don’t really notice, too busy blabbering about something silly as you look around the store. but when you finally lock eyes with the child, you notice the way he seems to go shy, pressing his cheek deeper into his mom’s shoulder. his eyes flick away from your face for just a second, before timidly looking back. as soon as he does, you break into the sweetest, most giddy smile.

(toji would move mountains for a glimpse of that smile—and yet here this kid is just getting it without a shred of work.)

you tilt your head, raising a hand to gently wave at the boy, who flushes further under your attention, but lifts his cheek a little more. chubby fingers come up to meekly wave back, and you hold back a silent coo of affection, eyes filled with honey-like sweetness. with every little giggle and silly face you make at the boy, he seems to get more and more comfortable—toji watches you melt.

the unlucky little brat then quickly peeks at the giant man looming beside you, and toji can’t resist. his face pulls into a evil smile, teeth on full display as he wiggles his fingers sinisterly. the expression has its desired effect—the kid recoils, eyes going wide before burying his face into his mother’s neck. in a few minutes, the boy and his mom are heading out the store and you and toji start loading the groceries onto the belt.

“i saw that, you know?”

toji glances up, seeing your semi disapproving frown, and he cocks his head in faux innocence. “saw what?”

“you’re mean,” you shake your head, crossing your arms. “scaring little kids like that. quite literally the object of their nightmares.”

“ah, he’ll be alright,” toji grunts, taking the bags from the cashier in one hand and reaching for your palm with the other. “it’ll build his character.”

you snort. “he’ll have trauma.”

“like i said,” he grins, a canine display. “character.”

you roll your eyes as he tugs you out of the store—your grip on him unwilling to falter.

toji lives just like this, successful in scaring off any other person who considers giving you attention, whether that’s an adult or a little kid. and despite your exasperated complaints to at least lay off the children (they’re harmless), toji has known for a long time that he can be nothing but selfish when it comes to you.

so forgive him, if he quickly turns to this evil little tactic to scare away kids—it’s all he can really do. besides, it always works.

until now.

you’re sitting under a tree at a small park, working on some dumb assignment for one of your lectures. toji lays on his back next to you, arm draped over his eyes in a momentary respite from the normal danger of his life—eerily content.

the peace is broken by the rustling of tiny footsteps in the grass.

“here you go.”

toji pulls his arm away to peer at the owner of the voice. a boy stands there, hair tousled as he waits in front of you with his arm outstretched—in between his chubby fingers is a singular dandelion.

your eyes widen, cheeks splitting into a wide smile as you coo out your affection. “aw for me?”

the boy nods mutely, cheeks flushed as he thrusts the flower further into your view. you delicately pluck it from his hands, inhaling the fragrance with a grateful smile. “well thank you. it’s beautiful.”

he shyly kicks at a spot of grass, lips pulling up into a giddy smile under your sweet praise. “just like you,” he mumbles under his breath and you squeal softly, giggling at how adorable this kid truly is.

toji sits up before you can say anything else, lips pulled into a displeased frown as he crosses his bulky arms across his chest. “hey.” his voice comes out low and tense, even as he stares down his nose at the boy. “what are you doing?”

you turn to look at your boyfriend, at the exaggerated sneer that normally works wonders in scaring kids away, and you hold back an exasperated sigh. “toji—“

“who are you?” the boy frowns, sass appearing out of thin air as he looks toji up and down like he’s nothing but dirt under his colorful sneakers. you gape at him, eyes darting back and forth between the two as a smile threatens to make its way into your face. toji’s lips part in surprise, a tingle of heat crawling up his neck as he hears your hushed gasp of held back laughter.

“her boyfriend,” he grunts back, eyes narrowed in a way that’s oddly similar to the expression on the kid’s face.

“no way!” the boy huffs, pouting indignantly. his cheeks flush as he glares at toji—unfazed.

“uh, yes way.” toji realizes how petty he sounds, but he’s adamant—unwilling to stand down in anything that involves you.

the boy crosses his arms, mirroring toji’s pose. he rolls his eyes emphatically, lip curling as he sneers down his nose.

“isn’t she too pretty for you?” he asks bluntly. you smother another disbelieving gasp, and toji suddenly feels an unfamiliar thrill rush through his veins—this kid had guts.

“what do you know, brat?” there’s a smirk evident in toji’s voice now, and he uncrosses his arms to lean back on his palms, eyes shining with feral mirth.

“i have eyes,” the boy snaps back, putting both hands on his hips to appear more intimidating—it doesn’t work, he just looks cuter. “i can see her.”

“well quit it,” toji huffs in return. “not yours to look at.”

the kid narrows his eyes. “you’re mean!”

“and you’re nosy!”

“how am i nosy?”

“you’re comin’ over here and givin’ my girl flowers!”

“she deserves flowers!”

“of course she does! from me, you little brat!”

“you suck, old man!”

“what did you just call me?!”

a shout from across the park disrupts the heated bickering, and you all turn to see an older woman waving the boy over. he looks down at you, a sweet smile washing over his face as he tilts his head innocently. “that’s my mom. i have to go home now.”

“heh, sure thing. get home safe, okay?” you shoot toji an amused glance as you speak, and he sends a displeased glare back as he stubbornly crosses his arms again.

the boy nods, beaming at you. “okay! see you later!” he chirps. but just as he’s about to leave he turns back, eyes fixated on toji. “i hope your boyfriend learns how to be nice!”

and then he runs off.

you snort out another laugh, which only gets louder when you catch a glimpse of the way toji is practically sulking in the corner—scowling at the kid’s back with narrowed eyes.

the whole thing is so unbelievably endearing, and you can’t stop grinning as you pack up your things and stand up.

“let’s go home, toji.” you hold your palm out for him, and you’re rewarded with a pointed glance—he takes your hand anyway. even as you both exit the park, toji has an unamused pout on his face, glaring ahead.

you can’t resist.

“don’t tell me you actually feel threatened now,” you giggle, grabbing his bicep and pressing close. toji glances at you from the corner of his eyes, unamused—which only seems to make you laugh harder. “oh come on! he was so cute!”

“little brat,” he grumbles in return. “couldn’t take a hint.”

“you’re mad because the eight year old kid at the park didn’t want to believe you were my boyfriend?”

“the fuck do you think? of course i am. what do i look like if not your fucking boyfriend?”

you chortle, practically falling on him with the weight of your amusement. he sighs, disgruntled.

“it’s not funny, kid.” toji rolls his eyes at you—internally, he’s trying not to grin.

“it’s so funny, toji.” you straighten up, smiling at him with stars in your eyes. “you’re ridiculous and it’s so cute.”

he scoffs, giving you a sidelong glance before reaching up to tug at your cheek. “i’m definitely not the cute one.” he murmurs offhandedly before internally smirking at the way you seem to be caught off guard by his statement.

“whatever,” you mumble, holding his arm as you both continue walking home in relative silence. from the corner of your eye you can see toji’s expression as he mutely stares ahead, deep in thought. you decide not to disturb him, content on just feeling his warmth bleeding into your palm—always at your side.

toji replays the incident in his head multiple times as you head home. the bickering, the sass, and the unfiltered adoration that little brat seemed to have for you.

something clicks.

as you’re pushing open the door of your apartment, you hear toji quietly chuckle from behind you, and you turn to look at him over you shoulder. “what?”

he shakes his head slowly, eyes shut even as an uncharacteristically soft smile tugs at his lips. “just thinking…”

“about what?” you ask curiously.

toji grins at you, cocking his head fondly. “when we have a kid, i want the little brat to be just like that.”

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.

tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.

toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”

you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.

“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.

it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.

“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.

you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.

toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”

you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.

toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.

“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.

it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.

toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.

“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”

megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.

though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;

“mama papa kissing!”

you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”

toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.

you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.

“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.

you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.

“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”

after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.

megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.

“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.

megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”

that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—

“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.

megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.

you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.

toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.

“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.

you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.

toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.

“so, where were we?”

[readwritealldayallnight]

You know the woman in line behind you is getting impatient, hearing her not so subtle exasperated sigh as you continue to search through your bag, your cheeks burning a deeper shade of crimson when you catch the barista’s tight lipped smile in your direction, her attempt at reassuring you as part of her job, though you can tell she wishes you’d hurry up as well

As if your debit card declining a mortifying four times hadn’t been enough, but then your attempt at using your credit card was just as unsuccessful, the sound of the failed transaction on a stupid 6£ drink sounding out for everyone in queue to know how broke you really were

Embarrassment coursing through your veins, already thinking about how you’ll never have the guts to come back to this cafe again as you desperately search for enough spare change at the bottom of your purse to cover this morning’s coffee, your scrambling comes to a pause when a large shadow suddenly eclipses the overheard lighting above you

In the midst of your frantic searching, a tall figure has come to stand just next to you, their gloved hand stretching past your figure to tap a card against the machine, the happy beep of the teller confirming the transaction’s been accepted this time

“I’ve got tha’ for ya.” A deep, gravelly Manchester accent mutters low enough for only you to hear, before the figure tries to retreat back into queue unnoticed

You eyebrows shoot up in shock, the barista equally appearing surprised but not displeased as she finally gets to hand you your drink and quickly wish you a good day before she’s already trying to help the woman waiting behind you

You step aside out of the queue, swinging your head around to try and spot your mystery saviour who stepped in and helped you out without even needing so much as a thanks in return apparently

You spot him instantly, the absolute size of him easily giving him away. No one else in the small cafe could have created such a large, intimidating shadow, let alone spoken in such a deep voice that sent chills down your spine

He stands a head above anyone else in queue, currently last in the line after he stepped out to pay for you. He’s wearing a simple black medical mask on the lower half of his face, a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head offers you only a small glimpse of his eyes, which are noticeably pointed at the ground at the moment

You’re walking towards him before you even realize it

��Th- thank you. I don’t-” You’re cut off when those same eyes glance up to meet your own, stealing your breath away. He seems almost as surprised that you’re speaking to him as you were when he stepped in and paid for you, his eyes betraying his shock for only a fraction of a second before he’s steeling himself and his eyes darken. You get the vague impression that he isn’t someone who’s used to being caught off guard

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.” You say to him, wanting to express just how grateful you are to him for his random act of kindness, but he says nothing in return, hardly blinking once as he simply stares back at you

“I can’t understand why my cards weren’t working today. I promise I don’t like- this isn’t a thing I do. Go into coffee shops and pretend I can’t pay, hoping someone else will…” You awkwardly laugh to yourself, beginning to ramble in an effort to fill in the silence

“Anyways I just, really wanted to say thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re scrambling now, attempting to save face as this man just looks at you, an arm beginning to swing your purse off your shoulder in hopes of maybe finding enough change to appease this guy

“Not necessary.” The deep voice finally says again, his eyes leaving yours to scan you from top to bottom and then back up again, almost examining the sight before him. You almost feel like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, seeing the mask moving along with the sound of that gravelly voice an enrapturing vision

“Oh- well I- I mean that’s really nice of you, but I swear I can pay you back.” You recognize that feeling beginning to swirl low in your stomach, familiar with the warmth gathering in the apples of your cheeks; your body realizing it a split second before your brain catches up. You’re kind of into this guy. You can’t see much of his face, but the sliver you do see certainly isn’t unattractive, his height and build speaks for itself, with a voice like that and the fact that he’s just saved your butt and expected not even a thanks in return, you’re wondering if he’s too good to be true

“Do you come here often?” You’re asking him before you can stop yourself, watching a single one of his eyebrows arching ever so slightly. “I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”

You’re losing confidence the longer he stands there, not answering. What were you thinking? This guy was just trying to be nice, get the annoying girl holding up the line out of the way so that people can order their drinks and go about their day, and here you are holding him up even longer-

“If it’ll make ya happy.” He’s suddenly answering, snapping you out of your downward spiral. If you could see the grin that slowly creeps upon your face, you might be otherwise embarrassed, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh okay, amazing. I mean- yeah that would- that would be cool. Okay.” You reply, glancing at your watch. “I’m not sure for you, but um, I’m almost always here each Sunday. Around this time.”

“I’ll be here next Sunday. Around this time.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Next in line please.” The barista at the corner calls out, interrupting the two of you. You glance back to see that it’s now his turn to order, feeling bad that you’re about to hold up the queue yet again.

“Great. I’ll see you Sunday then. Thank you again, seriously. I really owe you one.” You say, gripping the straps of your bag tighter as you offer him a sheepish smile before ducking out of the busy cafe, a small grin playing across your face.

Ghost watches your figure through the large windows as you walk out of the shop, across the street, disappearing into the crowd of morning goers strolling about. Only once he cannot see you anymore, does he walk up to the counter, slipping a 20£ note to the barista along with a slight nod of acknowledgement, before he himself is turning to walk out of the cafe, empty handed, intent on catching up to you from a distance.

~~~~~~~~~~

AKA Ghost has been stalking you for months and finally comes up with a way to have you approach him

[softbabybelle]

CORRUPTION𓍯𓂃 r ֶָ֢cameron 003.

rafe cameron x shy!reader

 𝜗𝜚 summary : rafe has been trying to get you alone for far too long and now that he finally has, he won't give the moment up for anything.

𝜗𝜚 words : 2.3k

𝜗𝜚 c!w : smut, humping, thigh riding, public!sex, finger sucking, risk of being caught, praise kink, kinda degradation kink.

part 1, part 2.

days had passed since the incident with rafe cameron and the boy who's name you didn't wish to remember.

this time, you hadn't gone out of your way to avoid the boy but instead went back to normal, almost as if nothing had happened between you two at all. you sat on the couch of tannyhill, giggling at something on sarah's phone with your legs crossed.

now, that simply wouldn't do.

rafe had been eager for a minute alone with you which seemed almost impossible when his sister was hanging off your side every minute you spent at tannyhill.

he was sitting on the living room couch, the one across from you both, scrolling on his own phone, a finger to his mouth as he gnawed at the completely bitten down nail.

his eyes kept travelling over to you, skimpy little summers dress clinging to your form while the skirt part began to ride up your thighs as you moved against the couch.

dirty thoughts swarmed his head, thoughts that shouldn't be repeated out loud. thoughts that shouldn't have been in his head to begin with.

he thought he was sure to be damned to hell for the things he was thinking.

and then, ironically enough, the gods seemed to smile down on him. it was as if all of his prayers had been answered and every beg and grovel had finally been listened to by an angel.

the angel who's name was wheezie, standing in the living room door frame. "sarah." wheezies hair was a mess, thrown into a bun with loose strands of hair sticking out every which way, she looked tired, so awfully tired and dreadful as she stared forward at her sister who's head instantly snapped up. "please help me. i'm trying clean out my wardrobe but it's too much."

a laugh fell from sarah's mouth. "no way. it's your mess, clean it yourself."

but that was when wheezie's arms crossed over her chest, cocking a brow. "I'm sorry, who covered for you and topper last night?"

"wheezie!" sarah exasperated, glancing out into the hallway. ward and rose were upstairs but sarah still didn't wish for them to hear about the late night activities she'd been getting up to with her boyfriend.

defeated, she turned her head back to you, who was sitting so sweetly on the couch, that same sickly sweet smile crawling up on your features. you liked watching the cameron siblings interact, even if it wasn't always so pleasant, there was something oddly homely about it. "'s okay, sarah, 'm fine down here."

"okay." she sighed, getting up from the couch. "okay, you just―just hang out for a while and i'll be down soon, okay?" she watched you nod. "okay, come on, let's get this over with."

and suddenly, tension ran thick through the air.

it was you and rafe, alone.

his legs were spread apart on the armchair he was seated on, eyes running up and down your body. you seemed to notice your dress riding up and instantly tugged it down with pink cheeks. you swallowed thickly. "I, uhm―i wanted to say thank you." your eyes finally looked up to reach his.

the minute he heard your voice, his phone was turned off and tossed away. his head cocked to the side. "what for?" teasing. for he knew exactly what for.

you squirmed in your place. "for everything you did with max."

"didn't seem too grateful when you ran away, hm?" he didn't mean the bitter words that slipped from his lips. he watched the way you hung your head low, eyes glassing over. instantly, a kind of guilt washed over him and he leaned back further into the chair. "c'mere." and he patted his thigh, watching your eyes flicker down. you glanced out to the hallway and he had to roll his eyes. "'s okay, nobody'll see you. they're all too busy."

you did as you were told, crossing the room and landing in his lap.

there was something so sensational about being in his lap again.

memories flooded your head, pictures and images of you and he, in this same predicament inside his bedroom, his lips tainting yours. you couldn't help but latch your eyes onto his lips.

"you wanna tell me why you keep runnin' away, hm?" you don't answer, eyes searching anywhere but his face. he doesn't allow it, turning you slowly towards him once again. "asked you a question, sweetheart."

you fought words inside your mouth, all threatening to come tumbling out. "was scared." is all he's met with.

"scared of what?" his head dips, his eyes trying to reach yours, trying to look in and gauge your emotions. "scared of me?"

you shook your head, fingers reaching out to trail across the fabric of his sweater. "i... liked it when you kissed me." you admitted and he watched as a blush fell across your face, red reaching the tips of your ears. "i liked it a lot but 'was scared that sarah would find out 'n i don't―"

"sarah doesn't need to know anything." he answers quickly. "besides, who you kiss..." his fingers trailed across your bottom lip, sucking in his own bottom one between his teeth as he gazed down at them, sweet like honey. "is none of her business, yeah?"

you nodded too quickly, too eagerly, too convinced by his words too quickly. "'m sorry, rafe, 'm really sorry."

"think i know how you can make it up t'me." his fingers left your lips and placed themselves against your hips. "you wanna make it up to me?"

"yes, please." came out too swiftly.

he couldn't help but smirk at your eagerness. "'m gonna kiss you again, okay?" and suddenly, you could feel heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. he leaned in, his breaths falling hot against your face, his scent filling your senses. and just as his lips brushed against your own, he whispered. "you gotta promise me something first, 'kay?"

you licked your wet lips. "anything." wanting nothing more than for rafe to lean in and seal the kiss. you'd do anything he ever asked.

"no runnin' away this time." his fingers pinched at your jaw, holding it so your eyes could reach his. "you want this? you take it 'n you don't go pushin' me away again, alright?" a curt nod. "words, princess."

"promise." you spoke quickly. "promise, rafe, please."

his lips quirked.

but he didn't keep you waiting.

when his lips crashed into yours, you were very aware of the fact that you were sitting on the couch of tannyhill, the living room door wide open. all it took was for ward or sarah to come down the stairs and they'd see what you'd been up to.

they'd see that you weren't such a good girl after all.

but you couldn't seem to care.

you were too focused on his hot hot lips, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss, hands pinching at your waist, holding you in place.

your mind began to unravel, all you could think about was him. rafe cameron. you were sitting on his lap, kissing him, again. and you swore it was a feeling unlike any feeling you'd ever felt in your entire life. it was making you so desperate, so messy, so wet.

and you were sure he could feel it too. he tugged on your waist, rolling your hips against him.

you let a whimper be swallowed by his mouth.

his lips finally broke from yours for air but he didn't allow himself enough to fully regain his breath before they were latched beneath your jaw, sucking and kissing harshly.

again, he rolled your hips. you weren't sure if it was him moving you or you doing it by yourself now. you could feel him growing hard beneath you, you could feel him pressing himself up against your clothed pussy and all you could think about was how much you needed everything off.

you needed to feel him, skin to skin.

it seemed so close yet stretched so far away.

his hands ran up the skin of your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up as he went. "r-rafe." you whimpered out, head turning to the door. "someone could see―"

"'s what you asked for, isn't it?" his hands were rough against you, tugging the dress upwards, not caring for the family who remained upstairs. "isn't it?"

you swallowed thickly. "yes." you stammered out. "b-but―"

"you still wanna make it up to me, don't you?" his brows knitted together in this false sense of sadness, as if you'd done something awful to the poor man. you'd felt suddenly guilty for even suggesting that you stop.

you felt yourself ease against him, your own brows pinching together. "'m sorry, rafe, swear 'm sorry. i'll do anything, jus' please don't be angry―"

"'m not angry." he assures you, fingers brushing up and down your thighs, inching too high. "jus' need you to do something f'me, can you do that, sweetheart?" you were nodding like a puppy, eager to do anything he would ask of you. he maneuvered you so you were situated on one of his spread thighs and not his lap anymore. "y'gonna rub yourself on my thigh like the pathetic good girl you are, okay?"

you'd never done anything like this before.

suddenly you began to panic. "rafe, someone'll hear 'n―"

"nobody'll hear you, baby, jus' gotta be nice 'n quiet, yeah?" you still looked hesitant, top teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. "would make me feel so good, princess 'n you jus' wanna make me feel good, isn't that right? yeah, baby, jus' wanna make rafe feel good, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

and you don't know how, why, or when but suddenly, you're doing just what he told you.

your hips are stuttering as they move against his jeans, you can feel your panties growing wetter and wetter with every jolt of movement.

rafe doesn't appear to be doing much, hands skillfully moving your hips while he leans back against the armchair.

"there you go, good girl." his cock twitched in his jeans, watching your hesitant, shy face as you moved oh so slowly on his jeans. "lift your hips f'me, sweetheart." you did as you were told, pausing to lift yourself up from his thigh. his hand moved beneath you, tugging your panties to the side and rubbing gentle circles against your clit.

"oh." fell so sweetly from your lips that to anybody else, it would have appeared almost innocent. but rafe was well aware of how dirty you really were.

he landed you back on his thigh, letting you rub yourself against him, this time, it was your bare pussy that ran up and down his jean-clad thigh.

he groaned at the sight of you, free hand coming down to fix his situation that was suddenly growing in his pants. he pulled at the jeans slightly, trying to make his growing bulge less noticeable but there was simply too much to hide.

your eyes cast down to his hand, then to the bulge and you found a little whimper leaving your mouth.

his eyes studied your face, watching you lick your already wet lips and rubbing yourself against him a little quicker. sweet, poor, innocent, you was so turned on by his growing dick. and he could feel it by the dampness of his jeans turning wet hot

you really were filthy.

a particularly loud whine left your lips and rafe realised that perhaps it wasn't a smart idea to start this whole thing off while his whole family was home.

but he couldn't stop now. that'd be cruel. especially seeing how worked up he'd gotten you.

he trailed his fingers up to your lips and tapped on your chin.

you didn't even need to be told, you simply opened up. he stuck his digits right in, feeling your flat tongue against them and spit coating them.

"so filthy, baby." he uttered so softly, as if he were complimenting you. "what'll we do with you, huh?" you only whimpered around his fingers. "'s okay, sweetheart, gonna get that pussy stuffed jus' like you want. just gotta be patient, yeah? can you do that f'me?"

and you're sloppy against his thigh, sloppy against his fingers. you can feel juices rubbing against his jeans and dribble forming at the gaps between your lips and all you can do is not so dumbly.

a stutter of your hips.

a grin on his lips.

"you gonna cum, already, huh?" it didn't take long, but you were already approaching your orgasm. he wished now more than ever that he could take pictures with his mind. that he could frame this moment and pull it out every time his dick got hard. he slipped his fingers out from your mouth. "gotta ask like a good girl before you cum."

your hands pawed at his shoulders. "please, rafe." your mind was turned to mush. "please, please, please."

he shrugged so cruelly. "'m hearin' a lot of beggin' but i don't hear you asking me yet."

"p-please, can i cum?" your face was red hot, embarrassment flooding your features quickly. "please?"

he smirked, leaning back against the armchair and removing his hands from your waist. you were a big girl, you could finish yourself off. "go on, princess."

he watched as your hands pawed at him, hips stuttering and eyes rolling backwards, mouth falling open. it was such a pronographic, filthy scene. and yet, he knew by tomorrow, you'd be prancing around in the same little dress and everyone would see you as the same lovely good little girl that you pretended to be.

and rafe thought that was enough to make him cum in his own pants.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Would they or would they not catch you…

Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.

He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.

‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.

‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.

‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.

You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.

Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀

Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.

He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.

‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.

‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.

You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.

Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.

However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.

Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.

‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.

‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.

Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.

What a sweetheart.

Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.

Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”

( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)

Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.

[soobnny]

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'snow day' - logan x gn!reader

summary: logan hates the snow, hates that it reminds him of the past. but he soon finds that being with you gives it a whole new meaning. (1.1k) tags: fluffy, angsty cus he thinks about his past, established relationship, you play in the snow, logan realising he's in love with reader, kissing, gender neutral reader, blood mention (in reference to his memories), for the 'snow' prompt for logan promptober, + tagging @alsoprettyinpink - hope you enjoy!

snow. logan hated the snow.

it once held bittersweet memories of home, of those beloved mountains in canada, nestled away from the world. but those memories were tainted long ago. the snow greeted him that day he fled from alkali lake, droplets of crimson liquid dripping from his knuckles into the pure white flakes below, leaving a sickly trail of red behind him.

each winter, he'd wince at the sound of it beneath his boots, each grating crunch serving as a reminder of where he had come from, what had been done to him. reminded him of that frantic prey-like pitter-patter in his chest as he scrambled, alone in the woods.

yes, for years upon years, logan hated the snow.

that was, until you.

logan tries to suppress the blush rising in his cheeks as he observes you by the bedroom window, how you eye the falling flakes with such excitement. a smile tugs on his lips, betraying the signature steely mask he wears. but he can't help it, not when he's around you.

the snow fell overnight, a lot of it to his distaste. logan can't focus on the snow though, not now you're awake. and that smile, he loves it when you're animated like this, when you get that mischievous glint in your eye. he shouldn't be surprised when he sees you bolt for the door.

you're out there in a flash, coat half on, hat sitting precariously on your head, one glove in your hand as you hop in an attempt to pull your other shoe onto your foot. logan watches, mouth half open, yet he can't find himself to scold or call you back inside.

"look at it all!" you yell brightly, turning to face him with a smile that could bring a man to his knees. and it does, regularly.

logan steps towards the door with a sigh, folding his arms firmly and leaning against the doorframe. his eyes drift across the freshly fallen snow, eyeing it with indifference. but it's when he looks at you, the way you're practically glowing with almost contagious excitement, as though you'd never seen snow before in your life. . . logan can't help but smile fondly.

look at you, with your sweet grin and eyes full of wonder, kneeling down to oh-so gently cup a handful of snow in your delicate palms. he notes the careful nature of your actions, always able to admire your softness, how you're everything he's not.

because that's just how logan is, who he is. haunted, chasing ghosts or being chased. an act as simple as playing in the snow isn't so simple. those memories hurt, sure, but he can't let go of them, not again. he's so afraid of losing parts of himself that he holds on to any scrap he can remember, even the parts that make him feel like the animal he's told he is.

he's trying his best, he really is, for you. there's more to life than the past but what if that's all he has in the end? it's normally all he's left with. memories and -

thud.

a cold wet ball of snow hits his shoulder, tearing him from his thoughts as his eyes widen and land on you.

did you just. . . throw a snowball at him?

you're smirking, evilly, compacting another neat little ball into your hands.

"hey," he barks, eyes widening as he points his finger towards you scoldingly, "no, don't you even think about it-"

it's too late though, you're ready to throw before he even finishes his sentence. another ball hits his shoulder and he scoffs, feeling the coolness soak through his white t-shirt and settle against his heated skin.

"you little shit-" logan growls, but there's a clear smirk evident on his face as he barrels out the door after you.

squealing, you turn and begin to run though you know it's futile. but you already got what you wanted, he's having fun.

he's on you in a flash, snatching your hips as he grapples you to the ground with a grunt. you land, turning to face him as you both catch your breath. his hands find your wrists and pin them into the icy ground below as he hovers over you.

logan's panting, his breath puffing out in clouds against the cool air. but you're still smirking. "think that was funny, huh?" he challenges you with a smirk reflected at you.

you give a defiant nod and he chuckles, a low purr that has you smiling. not for long though. he releases one of your wrists to grab a fistful of snow and pushes it into your face. you scream playfully and attempt to escape his grip. "ah, not so tough now, eh?"

"enough enough!" you laugh, muffled by his large hand, "time-out! you win!"

he grins as he dusts the remaining flakes of snow from your features. it gives him time to admire you more closely, his eyes searching yours with a rare vulnerability. he commits this moment to memory - the gentle pink flush of your cheeks and nose as the cold works its way into your skin, the look in your eyes he feels he doesn't deserve, could never deserve.

you look at him like he's everything, like he's not all the things he's seen and done. you look at him, really look at him. and for the first time in a long time, he feels seen, he feels. . . at peace.

logan wants to say something, anything that expresses the depth of his affection for you. but talking has never been his strong suit, instead, he leans down to capture your cold lips against his, his heated presence a stark contrast to your freezing surroundings.

there's no words he could find that would fit the way he feels about you. those three little words echo at the back of his mind, aching to pour from his lips, to be spoken aloud to you, but logan tucks them away for later.

his lips move against yours in a fluid, languid motion, his fingers tilting your chin just slightly as his other hand squeezes around your wrist. pulling back slowly, his eyes flutter open, taking you in once more. gentle flakes of snow fall into his hair and along his shirt, coating him as he shields you from it above. his gaze remains steady, like he can see all those little parts of yourself you try to hide from the world. just like he does.

fuck, he loves you. like really loves you.

". . . you got some snow on you," you smile softly, pulling him from his thoughts with your mild teasing.

the fingers on your chin trace up to your cheek, the backs of his digits tracing a line down your soft skin almost reverently. a smile curls on his lips at your words, but he doesn't mind the snow. not anymore.

because the snow no longer reminds him of what he once had or once lost, it reminds him of what he has. . . right now, here, with you.