#( finally got some spoons to add to this )

[orangetintedglasses]

He was used to sandy death planets. Sandy death planets with aggressive fauna? Sure, it was a little different, but it was still pretty manageable! Unarmed? There wasn't anything alien or superhuman to hide around what were basically messed-up animals, so Vash had no issues outrunning or outjumping what was essentially big sets of gnashing teeth on four legs. Didn't need a weapon for those, that was fine.

... though, admittedly, sometimes those legs were covered in a thick cracked carapace and instead of gnashing teeth, it was spitting webs to slow him down. Then the massive bug got hit by a car just as it was about to take his head off, and exploded into several boxes of ammo, a red... syringe thing, and a gun, all of which were covered in viscous inside fluids that he'd begrudgingly picked up despite that. Guess the carapace hadn't been as thick as it looked. So, yeah, his recent discovery of the big bug-like creatures had been... eventful.

But the point where the Plant realized he was in actual trouble was when he'd run into a small group of people-- shirtless, mask-wearing people, which he was also decently used to. Still approaching with caution, he'd tried to ask them where he was, if there were towns nearby...

Their response was to scream and swarm, and in the end, Vash ended up ducking a few sawblades on sticks aimed right for his head, as they all babbled about a pound of flesh.

This place... really was literally just a more insane version of Noman's Land, wasn't it...??

[loveanddeepyearning]

The Lads Boys' Favorite Positions

A look into my thoughts on how each LI likes to get freaky with you 😝 3.4k words. ~ 600 words per LI (got a little carried away on some). Afab reader, 18+ MDNI, Sexually mature content under the cut. Filthy, but loving <3

Xavier: 

Doggy, Face Sitting 

Man loves backshots, we know. This way he can stare at your gorgeous back while he holds you down and absolutely rails you. He's very dominant and needs you beneath him, this position satisfies that urge to pin you down and claim you in the primal way he desires. Oh and not just in the bed, he's shoving you against windows, on the couch, pretty much anywhere he can take you. Xavier is possessive and if there is a miniscule chance someone might see, he's taking it (and you) with the curtains open.

I will add, the guy is a munch heh. He's dropping down like a man possessed, with your ass still in the air and your legs shaking, just for a taste. Then laying down so he can pull you onto his face and devour you. Once he starts he won't leave you alone until you're begging him to stop.

Wet sounds of his cock driving deep into your folds echo throughout the entire apartment, your desperate moans muffled by the throw pillows on the sofa. Xavier’s large, calloused hands hold your hips in a deep and punishing arch, yanking you back to meet each harsh thrust. The way he so easily cages your smaller form beneath him rips a groan from low in his throat, your complete submission spurring him to practically pound you into the cushions. In this position he drinks in the sight of your bare form, gorgeous back on full display and pretty pussy taking his cock so well, he loses himself in how wet you are, how perfect it feels to show you who owns that cunt of yours. “You like that, baby?” Wanton moans of his name and the addictive way your pussy clenches around his swollen and sensitive cock has him angling your pelvis to take him deeper. Walls fluttering and squeezing so perfectly, you fall apart with a cry, milking his dick as he finally cums deep inside your folds.

With a whine you attempt to squeeze your thighs shut, it’s all too much as overstimulation washes over your center in waves and you squirm against Xavier’s bruising grip on your hips. “No, no, no. Don’t run away, angel.” Growling, he practically chases you, holding you steady as he repeatedly stuffs you full of his sensitive length. Finally satiated after fucking his release further into your pulsing entrance, he slowly pulls back, eyes fixated on the way his pearly white essence drips from your gaping cunt. Your soft cries and whimpers of his name fade away as he gawks at the mixture of fluids pooling by your pretty little clit, the urge to taste cutting through every logical thought. Hands flying to the pillows, you hold on for dear life as slender fingers spread through your swollen and abused folds, aiding the cum dripping down your thighs. Crying out, you can’t help but rock your hips back when you feel his tongue circle your tender clit, heady moans of your name vibrating against your swollen pussy. 

“Xavi, I can’t take any more.” Tears pool in your eyes, pleasure slowly overtaking the sensitivity as he lays beneath your grinding hips. Pressing your center to his lips, he groans at the taste, lapping at your dripping entrance like a starved man. 

Sucking and nipping at your clit, he uses his tongue to claim the last of the cum he stuffed inside your intoxicating walls, moaning at the sweetness of your combined releases. “One more, angel. Right now I need you to cum on my tongue.”      

Zayne: 

Spooning, Missionary 

He likes the classics. Missionary is simple and intimate but provides great eye contact. In this position he has a wonderful view of you beneath him, and he will worship you like the goddess you are. Plus I will die on the hill that he is the best with his fingers (surgeon) and this allows him access to between your thighs. The man loves to kiss, and this way he can lay on (in) you with his fingers in your hair and kiss you until you're both gasping for breath.

Spooning also allows for him to pull on your hair to guide your lips to his, (and easy access for fingers lolol). Plus he's a shy boy and sometimes he can't do eye contact. With your back to his chest, he would whisper soft praises in his raspy morning voice, all but whimpering in your ear. And he's so strong, you don't have to worry about a thing, he's positioning you with ease, his muscles aren't just for show.

Warm, steady fingers hook in the hem of your panties, large palms slowly running down the length of your thighs as he frees your aching cunt. Grasping a leg in his strong hold, he gently spreads you, hooking your calf over his hip to keep you exposed to his ministrations. You can’t help the way your back arches into his chest, soft moans escaping your lips as you squirm on your side, his fingertips ghosting over your entrance to assess the wetness of your needy center. Middle finger sliding up the length of your slit, he rubs at your inner walls as you whimper and whine beautifully for him, hips grinding back into his erect morning wood. 

“Zayne, please.” 

A raspy chuckle tickles your ear and soft lips pepper kisses to your exposed neck, fingers gathering your slick to rub circles on your swollen clit. “Patience, My Love. Let me take care of you.” You love the lewd praises and promises he whispers in your ear, a striking contrast to his usually cold and aloof demeanor. Sliding that middle finger into your tight cunt, he groans at the way you practically milk his digit, almost unwilling to let him go once he presses past your heavenly entrance. “So fucking tight. I don’t want to hurt you, so let me stretch this pretty pussy open for you.” 

Grinding your hips into his palm, you lose yourself in his touch, years of schooling and occupational training have honed his skills with those fingers, and you melt into his steady hands as he works you open with care. “Brilliant. Gorgeous. Powerful.” Gentle praises hum against the shell of your ear, whispered against the quiet morning air as if he was afraid to shatter the intimate atmosphere. With a gasp, you squirm and his index finger easily joins his middle, your cunt practically dripping as you greedily suck him in. “Just a little more, baby. You can take another, right?”

God, you are so needy, your clit practically throbbing with the rapid pound of your heart, and you squirm in his hold, needing him to give in and finally fuck you. “Yes, yes. Please Zayne, I need you so bad.” Practically sobbing at this point, you cry out as his ring finger joins the others, your pussy clenching tightly at the intrusion. Chuckling quietly, he nips at your ear, his ego swelling with each needy whine and beg for him to put it in, his cock pulsing against the soft fabric of his boxers.

He knew you were close from the way you squeezed him, hips practically riding his fingers as you chased that high, so drunk on the pleasure your eyelids flutter shut. Tangling the fingers of his other hand in your hair, he turns your head to connect your lips in a passionate, claiming kiss. “Mmmh Zayne, I’m gonna-” 

Approaching the high you so desperately crave, his soaked fingers slip from your cunt, soothing your momentary whines while freeing his swollen cock to sheathe himself in your sensitive walls. The sudden intrusion has you gripping the sheets and writhing, a dizzying orgasm erupting as his thick girth rubs you so right, it has you seeing stars. Whining, you grind back against him, so lost in the feel of him filling you so perfectly, you almost miss the hitch in his breath, the needy whimpers as his hips set a desperate pace. Overstimulation quickly takes over, your spent body writhing in his hold as he continues to pound your abused pussy, praises falling from his lips as he begs you to let him fuck you a little longer. As the sensitivity gives way to pleasure, you lose yourself in his cries of your name and the way he pumps you full of his hot cum, praising his “good girl” for just how well you take him every single time.    

Rafayel:

Reverse cowgirl, In front of a mirror 

Listen: he likes to watch and make you watch when you get freaky. He is an artist, and watching the way your bodies connect and the lewd way they move together really drives him crazy. Sitting on the floor with your back against his chest, he would bounce you on his lap while forcing you to look, his fingers holding your chin, whispering absolutely filthy praises in your ear.

You're his one and only muse, and the only one he'd whimper and moan so shamelessly for, his composure slipping after watching you for so long. His ears are bright red and his cheeks are such a pretty pink, Raf always flushes so beautifully for you. (Also, fingering you in front of a mirror AHHHHH). I also will say that he is a mermaid and his stroke game must be god tier (hehe).  

Vulgar squelches echo in the bedroom, your thighs struggling to keep a steady pace after what feels like hours of desperate grinding. “Eyes forward, baby girl.” A gentle, yet firm pressure on your jaw brings your eyes back to the obscene reflection of your swollen and sensitive cunt squeezing his cock so deliciously. Wetness slips from your poor hole, a mixture of your arousal, and who knew how many rounds of cum he had so generously filled you with. Greedy digits slide through the slick, his fingers brushing through your folds to thoroughly lubricate your thrumming clit. 

“See how deep I am?” As if transfixed, you watch his cock slide deeper, your pussy stretching to accommodate the length. Oh. You watch the way he fills your pulsing walls, splitting you open with the meeting of your hips before slowly sliding out and thrusting until he fills you once more. 

With your back to his chest, his free hand pinches your nipple to coax out those pretty whimpers he desperately craves, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the sensitive nub in soothing circles. Eyes flickering up, your body runs hot, flushing under the heat of his gaze as he watches the way you clench around him, walls squeezing him so tight with oversensitivity. 

“Feels so good, Raf.” Moaning, you bounce down on his cock, noting the deep flush dusting his cheeks and ears that appeared when he lost himself in the pleasure like this. 

“Hng, you take my cock so well, cutie. Keep bouncing on it, just like that.” Guiding your hips, his lips ghost over your neck, nose teasing the hammering pulse point before his teeth nip at your jaw. Digging your knees into the pillows he provided for comfort, you mustered the last of your strength to take him deeper, grinding his cock against your walls in all the right spots. “O-Oh, please don’t stop.” 

Riding him faster, he twitches inside of you, his moans growing breathy and higher in pitch as he nips at your earlobe. “Please let me cum inside. Fuck, cutie, I need to cum in your pretty pussy again. Please, hnng.” 

Reaching behind your head, you tug on his violet locks, bringing his pussy drunk gaze to meet your own in the full-length mirror. Irises dark, he devours you with a predatory hunger, his pupils blown wide with lust. He’s gorgeous, all fucked out and desperate like this, and he’s all yours. “Need you to cum in me Raf, please baby.” 

With a whiny moan, his large palms grasp your hips, slamming into you until he chants your name like a prayer, holding you tight as he cums so hard he’s shaking against your back. Rubbing your clit just right, he works you through the throes of pleasure, ensuring you watch as he licks up your release from his dripping fingers. 

Sylus: 

Cowgirl, Mating Press 

He craves eye contact and the intimacy that comes with it, so his favorite positions are ones where he can stare into your eyes. Sylus is nothing, if not a lover boy, and he needs to watch every flicker of emotion in your eyes as he takes you to cloud nine. Cowgirl lets you control your own pleasure, which he loves, there's just something about watching you use him and take care of him that gets him off.

Ofc mating press is just intimate and deep. Plus he loves that he is so biG and can easily manhandle you into the position. Sylus is also a biter and this way he has easy access to your neck, chest, anywhere really. He's holding your legs over his shoulders with one hand, whimpering praises of how good you feel and how perfect you are as he stares deep into your eyes. He's so pathetically in love. 

Throwing your head back, your eyes slip closed from the sheer pleasure, his cock repeatedly bullying that spot that has you seeing stars. Moaning out his name, you arch your back and he slides deeper, the head of his cock poking at your cervix with each thrust and your nails dig into his shoulders for purchase. Gentle fingers cradle your face before slipping to the back of your head to direct your gaze to his own. “Look at me, Sweetie. I need to see your eyes.” 

Something warm and longing pools in his red stare, raking over your quivering form to capture your gaze. Gripping your thighs, he slowly, yet purposefully folds your much smaller form, resting your legs over his shoulder to somehow slide even deeper into your welcoming cunt. Capturing your lips in a searing kiss, he pulls back to brush the messy strands of hair from your eyes, his forehead pressing to your temple to watch the flecks of color swirl in your eyes as he slowly thrusts deep inside your fluttering walls. “S-Sylus.” You try to throw your head back again and close your eyes, but he holds firm, caging you under his rippling muscles to keep your cockdrunk gaze on his own. 

“Fuck, baby. You're taking me so well. So perfect.” Looking down briefly, his breath catches as he watches how easily he slides into your dripping folds, his length glistening with your juices each time he pulls back to prepare for the next thrust. Fingers meeting your throbbing clit, he rubs in tight, firm circles and you cry out in utter ecstasy, eyes clouding with overwhelming love and desire. Losing himself in the rush of passion, he quickly dips his head to your neck, teeth sinking into the dampened skin at the curve of your shoulder, the soft flesh beneath your ear, anywhere his greedy canines find purchase.

With each heave of your chest and flicker of emotion in your gaze, he holds your legs firm over his shoulder and drives further into your soaked cunt, his release approaching faster than anticipated. No matter how hard he tries to hold himself back, to worship your perfect body and give you the pleasure you deserve, your pretty pussy clenches just right and he finds himself nearing a mind- numbing release. A low groan falls from his lips, pressing closer to push himself deeper, his eyes so full of love that you can’t help but blush. “Just like that, kitten. Cum for me, pretty girl.” With a final circle of his fingers, you fall apart on his cock, squeezing him so right, he follows suit. Thrusting each spurt of his warm and claiming cum into your perfect center, he lustfully watches the way your eyes darken with release, eyelashes fluttering in a struggle to keep your eyes open, to keep them trained on him just the way he likes it. Endless praises fall from his honeyed tongue, after all, how could they not when you’re always so perfect for him?

Caleb: 

Full Nelson, Against the wall or counter, Headlock

Essentially he loves any position that allows him to utilize his strength on you. That way he can pin you down (maybe in a headlock...heh) and ravage you while moaning nasty little things into your ear. Those gorgeous biceps are so pretty and solid when they flex, picking you up to support you against the counter or wall. And even if they weren't capable of pinning you against every surface in the house, his evol has you covered. 

Anywhere he takes you, he's almost forcing you to make eye contact, whimpering and groaning kinda pathetically. If you were to tease him and withhold your touch, he might even cry, whining and begging for you like he's desperate (he is). He can't help it, he's fantasized about your touch for over a decade, and the real thing is better than anything he's ever dreamed of (king of yearning). 

Fingers digging into his shoulders, your breasts press against his solid chest, back arching further with each plap of his hips against your own. A warm palm cradles the back of your neck, protecting your head from each harsh thrust against the living room wall. Digging your back into the cool sheetrock, you rut against his solid cock, imitating the motion of his hips to draw him even deeper inside you. Brow furrowing with a needy whine, he watches the way you swallow his entire length each time, sucking him so far into the intimate massage of your dripping walls, he isn’t sure he can last much longer. 

Caleb is a vision like this, his honeyed skin so smooth to the touch, every muscle defined and rippling in the soft light that kissed his beautiful features. What you love the most, however, are the gorgeous biceps caging you between the solid lines of his body and the harsh wall of his apartment in Skyhaven, so thick and firm, and wrapped completely around your burning form. Fuck, you needed this. 

“Tell me you love it when I fuck you like this.” Violet irises capture your own, pupils wide with love and lust, his grip on the back of your head tightening to prevent your gaze from wandering. 

Tugging on the dark brown locks at the nape of his neck, you moan loudly at a particularly deep thrust. Having known him so long, you deduct the hidden meaning from his lustful words, his desperation for reassurance that you need him just as badly as he needs you. “Caleb,” Whimpering his name, you grip at his arms and unconsciously dig your nails into the muscular flesh, “love this, love you. Your cock feels so good, mmph.” 

Squealing, your hands wind around his neck as he carries you to the couch, continuing to bounce you on his dick with each step. Supporting you with his arms alone, he drives deep into your pussy, a large hand holding your ass while the other wraps around your waist to hold you secure. Greedily nipping at your lips, he seats himself on the cushions, effortlessly manhandling you into a position that promises to further stretch your pretty pussy on his large cock. With your back against his front, he forces your knees to your chest, holding your thighs to your breasts with a large hand as he sheathes himself once again in your abused and swollen walls. Setting a bruising pace against your poor cervix, his fingers wind up your body, a pretty bicep caging you against his heaving chest in a headlock. The way he bounces you on his lap, so pliant against his large form makes you clench uncontrollably, the forearm against your throat forcing your gaze to his own. Desperate whimpers and whines fill your ears, his thrusts growing harsher and more erratic as he nears his release, those eyes watching every single reaction, praising you lewdly as he feels you near your own end. “Cum with me, pip-squeak. Need you to cum on my cock.” 

With a shuddering gasp, you fall apart, hard, milking his cock while he bites his lip against a pathetic moan and cums inside you. Throwing your head back, you can’t stop your eyelids from slipping closed, too blissed out for the intimate eye contact he often begged you for. A harsh slap to your clit makes you yelp his name, eyes shooting open to catch his darkening gaze, eyebrow twitching with annoyance that you withheld your gorgeous gaze as you came. “That’s better. I’ll just have to make you cum again.”       

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are very appreciated!!

[zepskies]

Rest

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean is your rock, but you���ve become his place of rest.

AN: Surprise! Just something short and sweet for Dean. 💜

Word Count: 600

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship; fluff, hurt/comfort, tinge of angst

On nights like these, the urge hits you the most.

You’re already in bed, wearing one of his old shirts and little else. You’re waiting for Dean, watching him finish brushing his teeth. He wraps it up by splashing some water on his face.

He stops for a moment, with his hands on the edges of the sink. He looks at his reflection and rubs a hand over the thick stubble on his face.

It’s halfway to beard territory. He needs a trim, he’s probably thinking.

(You don’t mind a little extra scruff.)

He hesitates, looking deeper at his own reflection. You notice the lines around his tired eyes, the weight of the last hunt still heavy on his shoulders. It's weighing on yours too, having carved out another small notch in your heart.

But you also know how many more layers this man carries, including the ones he adds himself.

“Dean,” you prompt quietly.

His head turns in your direction, and you give him a smile, beckoning him over.

Again, he hesitates. But he goes to you. After dipping his side of the bed with his weight, he smoothes a hand over your hair in affection. He takes off his father’s watch; the last piece of the hunter’s armor before he lays down on his back beside you. The old metal and leather watch clunks on the nightstand.

He then opens an arm to welcome you over, where you routinely find a place against his side.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravel. Your lips curve, but you gently push his arm back down to his side.

“Turn over,” you say, making a rolling gesture with your finger. Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, but he’s just curious enough to heed the encouragement of your hands on his arm and his back. He turns onto his side, facing away from you.

You settle yourself higher on your pillows, and you guide him backwards, until he’s resting against your soft upper body. You wrap your arms over his broad shoulders, and your hand moves, soothing across his chest. Even now, you feel the tension in his frame.

“Relax,” you say in a near whisper. You press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’ve always wanted to be the big spoon.”

A smile raises the corners of Dean’s lips. He even chuckles, shaking both of you.

“Yeah? Feels kinda weird,” he admits. He doesn’t think he’s been held like this since he was a kid.

“Well, give it a minute,” you say, with a bit of cheekiness.

Then you sigh and settle into this yourself. When your arms cross over his chest, Dean grabs your wrist, holding you there. He lets out another deep breath of his own.

Okay, he agrees, if only in his mind. Not bad.

He does relax against you, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash, feeling the tickle of your hair on his shoulder, and the gentle rise and fall of your breath. It's all familiar, and reminds him that he's home.

Dean leans over to turn off the light on his nightstand, but he returns to your embrace. He reaches back, just to stroke your cheek in a silent thanks. Smiling in the dark, you lay another kiss on the side of his head, and you close your eyes.

Dean does the same. He lets your warmth seep into his body, releasing the tension of a shitty hunt. He tries to let go of the faces he couldn’t save.

And he actually rests. 

AN: Just one of my little daydreams that I finally got a chance to write down. 💜

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy

@wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@anticxrrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[jordiemeow]

can you imagine doing the “current boyfriend” trend on joaquin

had to ask my friends what this trend was ijbol but it's too cute :((

It's a joke. Something light. It’s a tired prank, sure, but you know Joaquín hasn’t quite caught on yet; he doesn't have the screentime to recognise it. This is my current boyfriend followed by some confused or mildly betrayed look from boyfriend in question. You can't resist the urge, partly because he's always so confidently secure in your relationship, and partly because you love catching him off guard.

He's sitting at the kitchen table, completely unaware he's about to be the punch line to something, hunched over a bowl of cereal and chewing like he has a vendetta against Honey Nut Cheerios. The sunlight hits him just right, lighting up a flare of gold in his curls, the sharp line of his jaw, the sleepy crease still pressed into his cheek from the nap he'd taken earlier.

You can't not do it.

"Wanna be in my TikTok?" You greet, chipper, sliding into the chair next to him.

He grunts in a way that probably means yes, or at least not no. Spoon to mouth. Repeat. Good enough for you. You hit record.

"Okay, so I'm with Joaquín, my current boyfriend—"

The camera pans to him comically. His mouth is full, spoon halfway to his lips, and you receive a very aggressive side-eye. An adorable furrow between his brows and a bewildered (if slightly grumpy) repetition: "Current boyfriend?"

Naturally, you play dumb. "That is what you are, isn't it?"

"Current? Babe." He sets his spoon down, looking dead serious. "Current?" He reiterates incredulously. "Like there's a future line-up waiting or something?"

You try to hold back a laugh. He's not even mad. He's wounded, in that over-the-top, only-half-kidding way that makes your chest ache a little and your smile widen all at once.

"No, I just mean that we're currently dating. Like, as of right now, you are my boyfriend. Didn't think you needed the dictionary definition, but if I really must—"

"Am I a subscription plan now?" He interrupts, scandalised. "Are there tiers? Is someone else waiting for their trial to start?"

"Relax. You're on the premium plan. No ads, no hidden fees." You pause, then add tentatively: "It's just a trend, Joaquín. You know, you're supposed to get all fake upset with me like I've just broken your heart." (You're pretty sure you had.) "I didn't mean it. I've got plans for you, Torres. Big, lifelong ones."

His shoulders slump with relief. A half-smile, one that doesn't quite meet his eyes. Your heart aches. "Well, that's dumb. I guess I just heard it and thought 'current' sounds temporary. Like there's an expiration date."

"You're not my current anything. You're my always. I just thought it was funny. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overthink it. I guess I just love you too much to joke about being temporary." That's the part of him you adore. The softness that sneaks in when he’s not trying to be anything but real. How he could ever think he's anything but the one for you blows your mind when he makes you feel so giddy over little phrases like that.

Oh, how that tugs on your heartstrings. "You realise how insanely boyfriend-of-the-year that sentence is, right?"

That finally pulls a real smile from him—wide, bashful, dimpled. "I mean... if the title fits."

You plant a quick, sweet kiss to his mouth. "It fits. And it's permanent, just so you know."

"Good. Because I was planning on making a TikTok and calling you my starter girlfriend. See how you like it."

"You wouldn't dare," you pout, swatting his shoulder playfully.

"Oh, I dare. Just wait." He's already reaching for his phone. "I'll hit 'em with 'starter girlfriend, who will evolve into fiancée.' Boom. Trend ended."

"Joaquín."

"What? I'm future-proofing this relationship."

And there it is. His innate ability to turn a joke into something real. Something permanent.

[smoothtsukki]

𝖳𝖲𝖴𝖪𝖨𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖬𝖠 𝖪𝖤𝖨 𝗑 𝖧𝖸𝖯𝖤𝖱𝖥𝖤𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖤 𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖤𝖱 HEADCANONS

Cw: fluff, girlyness, some smut but not much. since there's smut mdni!

type: headcanons!

authors note: hopefully y'all like this !!

tsukki's song choice of the day:

ᛝ ຶ only lets you use his headphones !!

ᛝ ຶ he doesn't know why but when you ask him to go shopping for makeup or clothes or just anything in general his heart flutters :)

ᛝ ຶ when you ask to try your new make up on his face he immediately says no but caves in when you do puppy eyes.

ᛝ ຶ he's the big spoon, so anytime you cuddle or snuggle which is actually semi often for you two.

ᛝ ຶ one time you had dyed his jersey pink (it was an extra jersey he had) and then you proceeded to wear it to one of his matches !!

"y/n...?" he said slightly confused "yes?" you said curiously. "what the actual fuck did you do to my jersey..." "i made it pretty tsukki!" "..." after that he said nothing and walked away but then walked back and gave you a light hug and forehead kiss before his match started.

ᛝ ຶ when he comes over to your house he always adds to your collection of figurines or trinkets !!

ᛝ ຶ he lets you put clear nail polish on his nails but that's it because he doesn't want his team mates to think he's getting soft, especially hinata.

ᛝ ຶ he loves seeing you underneath him, it's just something about the way you look small under his tall stature.

ᛝ ຶ personally i think he's really big down there, it's really the way he carries himself.

"c'mon you can take it...i know you can.." he said trying to push himself farther into you. "nuh...uh...slow down tsukki...too much..." you said the blush on your cheeks prominent "your fine..quit whining you can take it." he said his tone degrading but he knew you liked it "tsukki....please..too much..! ah-..oh.." you say as he finally gets it all in letting you adjust for a minute, "see? you got it...all in..." he said before he started thrusting into you.

authors note pt2: thank you for reading!!!

SMOOTHTSUKKI 2025

[luveline]

HELLO I HOPE UR WELL

I was wondering if u could do a kbd blurb with dustin and max and all the other kids? i just think the dynamic of the kids being all grown up and interacting with little steves would be hilarious

“Guess what, Lucas?” 

Lucas tries diligently to swallow a bit of rotisserie chicken early. “What?” he asks. 

Beth smiles at him adoringly. “Daddy says I can play basketball now ‘cos I’m six foot tall.” 

“You are getting pretty tall,” he allows. 

“Taller than Lucas,” Max says. “But that’s not hard.” 

“Max.” 

Max jostles Lucas’ leg under the table. 

“I’m taller than Beth, so I’m tallest,” Avery adds. She’s opposite Beth, between the wall and Max, and she’s elbow deep in macaroni cheese. 

Max grabs a napkin. “Here,” she says quietly, “you’ve got cheese on your nose, babe.” 

Steve wrangles Dove into his lap. There’s so many of them at party dinner that they’ve split into two booths, and the kids have chosen their favourites of the bunch to sit with. Steve is lucky his Dove likes him so much —the rest of your brood have split. Even baby Wren sits pleased as punch in Dustin’s lap, barely visible over the lip of the table. Dustin feeds her spoonfuls of mashed up green beans but otherwise doesn’t pay her much mind. He’s a natural. 

“Think Beth has a crush?” El asks. She, Mike and Will have shoved onto the end of Steve’s table with stolen chairs. 

Robin shakes her head vehemently. “Beth is way too young for crushes.” 

Steve thinks that to be obviously untrue, and it’s fine. Beth has a teeny tiny crush on her uncle Eddie, and maybe she’s got one on Lucas. It’s not like it does any harm. But he has to protect his girl’s street rep. “Beth hates boys,” he says. 

El gets distracted by Wren in Dustin’s lap and attempts to steal her, which Dustin protests and Wren just loves, squealing in joy as El picks her up and holds her to her chest. “Hi, baby Steve,” she teases. “You’re so baby still.”

Wren gurgles a laugh. 

“Where the hell is my wife?” Steve asks finally. He’s kept it in for the last half hour, but you’re late.

“Cheating on you with her soulmate.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. You wouldn’t kiss Eddie if he was the last man on earth, and not ‘cos he’s not pretty, but you reckon Eddie kisses like a vagrant. Unlike you, Steve, you kiss like a prince. Some throwaway baby talk he didn’t deserve but keeps tight to the chest anyways. 

“Daddy, can I have some of your soda?” Avery asks. 

“How am I gonna get it to you all the way over there?”

“With your legs.”

Both tables erupt into laughter. Steve can’t hide his own grin as he gets up and holds his soda over her table for her, straw pointed at her mouth. “You’re a comedian.” 

She sips a long pull and sits back. “Thank you,” she says breathlessly. 

Steve’s still standing when the diner doors open and the missing adults from their party let themselves in. You, his beautiful wife, and Eddie, Jonathan, and Nancy. Suddenly, everybody he cares about is in one room again. It’s a strangely relaxing feeling. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Steve asks. 

You rush the last couple of steps and kiss his cheek. “Making out with my new boyfriend,” you whisper, something shiny about you as he softens and kisses your forehead. You turn one way to see the big girls. “Hello! How are you, honeys? How’s dinner, is everything okay?” 

Dove cries out from where she’d been left sitting in the booth behind you. “Mom!”

You cross your arms over your chest and turn again. “Dove,” you say, disarmingly sweet, “baby, I didn’t see you there. What’s up, beautiful? What have you got? Ooh, are you sharing?” 

Eddie seems to totally disregard Lucas’ personal space, leaning over him with his arms already open as Beth stands on the booth seat to be picked up. “Bethany,” he greets stoically. 

Beth giggles as she gets cuddled.

There’s too much noise to sort out, then. Mike’s asking Nancy something in a scathing tone as Avery shouts about Uncle Jonathan, his croaky laugh quickly covered by a clatter of plates and cutlery. You steal Steve’s seat and he shoves in beside you, while El tries her best to soothe your baby who started whining the second she noticed your arrival. It’s loud, it’s chaos, but Eddie forces Lucas up to sit with Beth in his lap, Nancy squeezing in next to Robin while Jonathan goes to order another basket of curly fries, and it’s nice. 

“Thanks, honey,” you tell El, accepting Wren from over the back of the booth. She got up to give her to you rather than pass her over all the boys, even though Steve tried to tell her she didn’t need to. 

“When’s the next one coming?” she asks. 

You tap your nose. None of them know you’re pregnant yet besides Robin, who shoves a forkful of food in before she can somehow spill the secret. “Sooner rather than later, honey.”

“A boy this time,” El says. 

“You think?”

El smiles knowingly. “Yes.” 

You touch Wren’s short hair affectionately. “I’ll trust your judgement.” 

“Maybe two,” she says. 

You go a bit wan in the face. “Oh, right.” 

“Maybe,” El says. She looks tired and turns around to sit back in her seat. 

You turn to Steve, and he withers under your eyes. “It better not be,” you whisper. 

“Well,” he says. “Well, it’s probably not.” 

You’re mostly teasing, a smidge terrified, but you like how he looks when he’s chastened and you lean in to give him a chaste kiss. It’s more for him than you, he can tell. “I’ll kill you,” you promise. 

“And I’ll help,” Eddie says. 

“Munson, can you shut the hell up?” 

“Stop swearing around the kids!” Robin says.

Steve changes his mind. This chaos isn’t nice, it’s a headache, and Beth hasn’t eaten even half her dinner. “Eddie, stop eating Bethie’s fries, please.” 

“I’m not,” he says. There’s so much potato in his mouth he can barely speak. 

[dixonsstinkysock]

Twins

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Commonwealth (Halloween)

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Kissing?

Word Count: 1,850

Summary: Your little boy wants to be just like his Daddy.

A/N: This was inspired by @bambidixon …I couldn’t stop thinking about it plus it’s Halloween time so why not. Kinda rushed so...Hope you enjoy! 

The smell of your famous homemade alfredo sauce wafts through the air. The freshly cut pasta is boiling away on the stove, made from the pasta maker Daryl got you for Christmas. You’ve always had a passion for cooking, making food from scratch whenever you get the chance. Daryl was different, he prefers opening a can of some vegetable and calling it a night. He deserves better than that, so you give him your best. Speaking of Daryl, He, Judith, RJ, and your son Beau sit in the living room watching an old movie, obviously Daryl’s idea. He’s a sucker for old movies, says it reminds him of the only good part of his childhood.

 After a while, your strawberry shaped timer went off, signaling the pasta was ready, another thing Daryl got you. Your kitchen was a mitch-matched mess but you loved it, it gave the place some character. After stirring the thick, creamy sauce you move to grab a strainer. Draining the noodles and combining them with the sauce, you add a bit of chicken you shredded prior, mixing everything together. 

“Dinner!’ You call out, hearing Daryl tell the kids to go sit at the table. You feel a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around you, and then the smell of tobacco.

“I can do the rest” Daryl leaves soft, sweet kisses down your neck. Slowly rocking side to side with you, gently taking the cooking spoon from your hand and stirring the pasta himself. You turn your head to look him in the eyes, his eyes are beautiful, a deep navy blue like the ocean. “Are you sure? I can do it— I don’t mind”

He gives you that sexy, lopsided, half smile. “Nah…go sit. I’m just puttin’ it on plates right? Can’t mess that up…” You reluctantly pull away from him, going to sit down with the kids as Daryl plates the food. After a moment Daryl starts to bring the food in, you stand to help him but he insists you sit and relax. He hands the kids their plates before bringing out yours and his.

The kids say their “Thank you’s” and dig in. You can tell Beau is Daryl’s son by the way they both eat. You always thought it was cute, how alike they both were. The hair, the smile, the attitude…Almost seems like the only thing he got from you was his eyes, well…one of his eyes. He has Heterochromia, one eye blue like his fathers, the other matching yours. Daryl said he was our good luck charm, the best of both of us. Halfway into dinner you decide to speak up–

“So, have any of you thought of what you wanna be for Halloween..?”

RJ was the only one who answered, having thought alot about this. Judith and Beau were silent, still eating.

“Really? That is pretty cool RJ. Judith? Beau? What about you two? Any ideas?” You look at the two, confused at why they were so silent. Usually Judith is the first to answer, and Beau is the same thing every year. He loves that stupid Dinosaur costume. You and Daryl tried keeping up with the holiday’s back in Alexandria, wanting to give the kids some type of normal childhood.

“I don’t know…I don’t think I wanna dress up this year.” Judith murmurs looking down at her food. Daryl finally looks up and stops eating. “How come Jude? You love Halloween.” 

Judith shrugs “I don’t know, I don’t even know what I would be. Plus I’m getting too old to be dressing up…” She takes another bite of her food, obviously done talking.

“Uhh, You're never too old to dress up J. Look at me, I dress up every year.” You look at her pretending to be offended. She looks at you with a “seriously?” face. 

“You’re the same thing every year, it basically doesn’t count.”

Knowing she’s right, you turn to Daryl silently asking him to take over. He shrugs, taking another bite of his pasta, “Okay…What about you baby? What do you wanna be?” Beau doesn’t look up and just shrugs, which is weird because he is usually ecstatic when we ask him, every year telling us he wants to be a Dinosaur. This gets Daryl's attention, and he questions Beau.

“What’s wrong buddy? You don’t wanna wear your Dinosaur costume?” Beau shakes his head and that’s the end of the conversation. 

After dinner, you’re in the kitchen cleaning up. Daryl is getting the kids ready for bed, Beau being more stubborn than usual tonight. Daryl walks in after a while, coming up behind you and leaning on the counter.

“Everything okay? Heard you were having some trouble with Beau..” Daryl sighs and runs a hand down his face.

“Yeah he uh…He wants you to put him down instead.” 

“Okay..Do you mind finishing these dishes for me?” He nods, standing up to take over. You give him a quick kiss as you walk by, a silent thank you while walking to your son's room. 

Knock Knock Knock…

Beau looks up from his picture book, he’s been doing amazing with his reading recently though he still likes to just look at the pictures. “Hey… What’s going on my love?” You make your way towards his bed, sitting on the edge with him. He leans his head on you, snuggling closer.

“Mommy…I know what I wanna be for Halloween…” You look down at him.

“Really? Did you not wanna say it in front of everyone at the table?” He nods moving to sit in your lap. “So…what do you wanna be?”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. “Can you promise to keep it a secret?” He looks up at you with his big beautiful eyes and his father’s half smile. 

“Of course, pinky promise.” You stretch out your pinky to lock in your promise, he does the same. 

“Okay…I wanna be Papa for Halloween…” A smile starts to creep in, already imagining the tiny version of Daryl’s angel wing vest, Beau living up to his nickname “Mini Daryl Dixon”. You’d have to get Carol to help with the sewing, it should be hard to find a pair of jeans that fit Beau, that boy is spoiled by Daryl. Finding a toy crossbow might be a challenge, you’d have to go on a few runs maybe…

“Momma?” Beau snaps you out of your planning, you look back down at him. Brushing his hair out of his face and moving to lay him down. 

“Listen, I love that you wanna be your daddy for Halloween, but it is time for bed…Guess what? Tomorrow we can go visit Aunt Carol and ask her to help make your costume okay? We’re gonna get you a vest and a crossbow just like daddy’s.”

“Really?” 

“Yep, and we don’t have to tell your daddy until Halloween. What do you think?”

“Okay..” He nods and gives you a big smile, getting comfortable under the blankets. You give him a quick kiss on his head and stand. “Goodnight Beau, I love you.” 

“Love you too, momma..” He flips over to look out his window and falls asleep. 

Daryl’s sitting on the couch, just having finished cleaning the kitchen. You sit next to him, laying on his shoulder and closing your eyes. “He okay,,?”

“Yeah, just wanted to talk to me..” 

Daryl looks down, carding his fingers through your hair as much as he could. “Bout what?” You smile, keeping your promise to Beau. “Nothin important, just about how much he loved me…of course” Daryl looked back up at the TV. “Right…Of Course.” 

It was the day of Halloween, everyone was getting ready to go trick-or-treating. Judith decided at the last minute she actually did want to dress up. Lucky for her you knew that would happen and prepared a few options for her, Now you were helping Beau finish his costume. You and Carol were able to sneak out a few times looking for a toy crossbow and a child-sized leather vest. You two found the crossbow no problem, the vest was a different story. Carol gave up looking and decided to make one from scratch, finding a normal-sized leather vest and cutting it down to Beau’s size. 

You and Beau are in his room putting his costume on, he was very picky about how everything was sitting so you two have been in there for a while. Daryl, Judith, and RJ are already ready to head out, the three waiting by the door for us. Daryl goes as himself every year…how original, RJ is going as a walker, and Judith is a Samurai, in honor of their mother Michonne. 

“You two almost done?” Daryl yells from the living room, impatient as usual. 

“Yes, one more minute!” You respond, doing the last finishing touches on Beau’s makeup. He wanted his Daddy’s scar as well, practically begged for it. After finishing his costume, he opens the door slightly and shouts out. “Daddy! Close your eyes, you can’t see it yet!”

“Okay..Okay..” Daryl complies, just wanting to leave and get this over with.

“You promise you aren’t looking?” 

“Yes! I promise! You better hurry or all the good candy is gonna be gone boy!” 

You walk out first, well..Beau pushed you out first, nervous of how his Dad was going to react to his costume. You two make it down the hallway, Daryl is standing by the entryway, waiting for Beau to tell him he can look. “Okay..now you can look…” Beau is standing beside you, fidgeting with his hands, crossbow strapped to his back. His vest Carol sewed up for him is identical to Daryl’s, blue wing and all. He’s got the stitched up jeans and a strip of red cloth tied around his neck to imitate Daryl’s bandana.

“No fuckin’ way…Are you shittin’ me?” Daryl looks up at you in disbelief, you can tell he loves it. Judith and RJ are so interested in Beau’s costume they don’t even say “Swear jar”. Beau looks up at Daryl, a bit anxious from his reaction. “Do you like it..?”

“Do I like it..?” Daryl crouches down to his level. “I think that’s the best costume I’ve ever seen, Little man. We’re basically the same person now…” Beau visibly relaxes after Daryl says that, now excited to leave. Daryl stands and opens the door for the kids, signaling that it was time to leave. You and Daryl hang back watching the kids walk down the hallway, glad to finally get going. 

“So..? You like it?” You lean on Daryl’s shoulder, wanting a moment to yourselves before being crowded by the hundreds of people outside.

“I love it…I love you. You’re amazin’..” Daryl leans his head on yours, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You lean into his touch, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself to follow the kids.

“…I love you too.” You and Daryl finally make your way out the door, closing and locking it, trying to catch up with the kids. 

[astrae4]

YOUR MAIL ARRIVED! boynextdoor

pairings — boynextdoor x reader

genre — romance, fluff, angst

warnings — THERE WILL BE hurtful angst in some of these. And also some of these could be seen as stalking? Depends on your pov tbh.. (wc. 1.2k)

notes — another title of this fic is ‘bnd and the type of letters they would give’

more works: navigation | bnd!masterlist

PARK SUNGHO | a letter from your significant other

He’s the type to give you letters alongside a bouquet of flowers, never alone. He’d be too shy to do it before you dated, but after seeing your eyes light up whenever you got a short note with your flowers, even if it’s just a ‘to [reader]’, his messages will get longer and longer until it was too much for a card to hold and enough for an envelope to send. Sungho’s a big, big yapper—so just know that his paragraphs will be long and filled with his perfume so you’d be reminded of him when you read it. If he can, he’d be with you as you read it aloud, loving your reaction and the way you flush at his sweet words. If you’d believe it—then I’d claim that he’s sweeter in literary comms than he is in verbal communication. Perhaps because he gets too shy when saying it aloud, often hit by cringe on the reality of the sugary words he’s put together—but in letters he can say whatever, whenever. He has absolutely ❌ shame, and he doesn’t regret it at all, especially when he sees how shy you get when you read his words.

MYUNG JAEHYUN | a letter of regret

Jaehyun and you would have had a break because you both were so busy that it’d make you take your frustrations out on each other. It wasn’t healthy and you needed time apart, so you practically block him so you wouldn’t get tempted to text him again. Jaehyun, of course, didn’t know the reason behind it and lowkey cried about it. After complaining to his members a million times about how he misses you, Woonhak piped up with a question that made the cork in his mind rotate. “Why don’t you just send her a letter or email then? It’s not like texting is the only way of communicating..”—wait, why haven’t he thought of that?! The idea excites him so much and he feels like he could kiss Woonhak for his brilliance. The letter is quite simple, consisting of the usual ‘please take me back’, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘I still love you so much’ with a generous spoonful of ‘please’s— oh who am I kidding it’s going to be full of the pleases. Gets so emotional he lowkey shed a few tears onto the letter. Whatever works to get you back, you know? Sure enough, when you got the letter with a box of chocolates, the block button cancelled not long after.

LEE SANGHYEOK | a letter of confession

Your confession wouldn’t be an unknown event. Riwoo would ask the whole group to sit with him and advice him on what to write in the confession letter. Taesan would tell him to be direct, whereas Woonhak and Jaehyun would tell him to be overly sweet. Leehan would mention to add his perfume, and Sungho would tell him to be truthful. To say whatever comes in his heart. After a long day and many motivational speeches for Riwoo to build courage in confessing, the letter—his masterpiece—is finished. The next time he meets with you, he’s planned the whole thing. From taking you to lunch, then bringing you to get coffee in a cafe while he gets dessert, and finally bringing you to a park for a stroll. Somehow he finds the best spot ever and it’s cheesy, straight out of a novel. The wind blows and the sunset shines in favor of the both of you as he shyly says another dad joke while his hand itches to the letter weighing heavily in his pocket the whole hangout. You laugh at his jokes as always, and finally—he hands you the letter—eyes cast and ears burning as he awaits your answer.

HAN DONGMIN | a letter to the deceased

I think that Taesan’s the type to write songs about you more than he does letters, so he doesn’t ever think about writing a letter for you. He’s not the best with saying what he feels, so it’s easier to him to write songs about you that just—describes you? If that makes sense. (Like his personal thoughts are different from describing you in his eyes bc it’s not so vulnerable on his end.) He’s too shy to actually open himself vulnerably, so the only time he actually writes you a heartfelt letter is when (only in this scenario okay! I pray for everyone’s health 🙏) his significant other passed. Too deep into sorrows and regrets, his members tell him to write to you about his feelings as a coping mechanism. And for once, Taesan’s love isn’t loud and is so deeply personal. He wishes he did this when you were still with him, but alas, he can’t change anything other than the increasing papers stacked in his drawer—just waiting to be read to you in your grave.

KIM DONGHYUN | a letter just because

Leehan’s the type to wake up one day and just feel like being romantic, ykwim? Like one day he feels more euphoric than ever; the kids (fishes) look prettier, the blue walls look brighter, and the thought of you sends his stomach into a bunch of flowers. He makes his mind right then and there that he’d write you a letter. The usual I miss you and I’m so grateful for you with a bunch of hearts near your name—heck, the whole letter’s filled with his heart drawings and it kinda looks like a teenage notebook ‘he will like me back’ ritual. He then ends the letter and practically skips off to wherever you are. Thing is, he’s not the type to give it to you directly. He’d hide it in your bag and then giggle as he waits for you to realize. When you do, you’d find it so cute of him and smother him in kisses (ik i would 😛) and he’d giggle so hard.

KIM WOONHAK | a letter in your locker

It’s a giddy thing with Woonhak. Coming back from lunch break with your friends to your classroom to get your PE uniform in the lockers. Only—an envelope sits awkwardly on top of your uniform, it’s position telling you that it was definitely put inside through the narrow peephole of your locker. On the envelope, there’s only one word: your name. Your friends freak out, and you flush at the attention given. They crowd around you, teasing you as they urge you to open it quickly. Who’s it from? What does it say? Do you have a secret boyfriend? Oh! I’m so jealous right now!— your friends rap out questions as you hurriedly open the letter. Inside, there’s only a short sentence: “Your hair looks pretty today, [reader].” There’s no name, and the thrill of it makes your friends go mad with conspiracies on your secret admirer. If it was possible, you blushed a deeper red. If only they knew you’ve clicked the pieces together; after all, how could you forget your desk-mate’s handwriting when you see it everyday?

TAGLIST: @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @taerae-verse @bbangbies @Ize325

NETWORKS: @k-labels @onedoornet @k-films

© astrae4 2025 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[iheartcake123]

zayne x f!reader

when he comforts you after finding you crying

a/n: i was feeling a bit overwhelmed today so decided to write a zayne fic bc he’s so wholesome :((

Masterlist

your apartment is quiet—too quiet. the kind of silence that rings in your ears and makes your chest feel tight.

the clock on the wall hits 10pm and you should’ve been asleep or at least doing a million other things that needed doing. but instead, you're sitting on the edge of the bed, still in your work clothes, hands trembling as you try to steady your breathing. the pressure from the week ; work, expectations, pretending you're fine, it’s finally caught up to you.

and it’s crushing.

you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to will away the tears, but your body betrays you. doing the opposite.

one sob slips out, then another, until you're shaking with the weight of everything you’ve been trying to carry alone.

you didn’t hear zayne come in and you don't realise he's there until you feel the shift in the air, and then arms. warm, familiar arms wrap around you from behind, gentle but firm.

zayne doesn’t speak. he doesn't need to.

his embrace is steady, anchoring you as you try to pull yourself together, even now, even while you’re falling apart.

"i’m okay,really” you choke out, even though your voice makes it obvious you’re not.

zayne says nothing. his chin rests on your shoulder, his breath calm and even against your skin.

he lets you cry.

he lets you feel, because he knows pushing you to explain right now would only make the storm you’re experiencing worse.

only when your sobs begin to slow does he speak.

“you don’t have to do this alone” his voice is quiet, calm and steady like a pulse, a lifeline “not with me”

“im sorry, i just- honestly it’s nothing. i probably shouldn’t even be-“ you start to apologise, to dismiss it, but he tightens his hold slightly, grounding you.

“you don’t have to be strong all the time” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing slow circles on you’re skin “you’re allowed to break down. you’re allowed to feel. and you’re allowed to let me see that. so that i can be there for you”

you close your eyes, letting yourself lean into fully. he smells like the faint antiseptic of the hospital, mixed with something warmer, something that always makes you feel safe.

“i didn’t want to worry you, you’ve already got so much” you whisper.

his hand then finds yours and he laces your fingers together.

“you’re not a burden. your pain isn't something I want to be protected from. i want to be someone you can fall apart with. someone you can rely on for anything and everything”

your chest aches with how gently he says it. like it’s the simplest truth in the universe.

“i see you” he adds after a moment, his lips now brushing your temple “even when you think you’re hiding everything. holding it all in. i see you”

you let the silence settle again, this time softer, filled with the unspoken promise in his touch. zayne doesn't offer false reassurances. he doesn’t rush you. he just stays with you, beside you, for as long as it takes.

and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of peace.

a few days passed and life didn’t magically get easier. the weight hadn’t disappeared but things felt lighted because now zayne helped carry some of it.

you’re in the kitchen and zayne is stood by the cooker, reheating some chicken noodle soup for the both of you. youre sat on the counter next to where zayne is cooking, legs swinging gently as you watched him. every so often he’d look up from what he was doing and glance at you.

with a look.

“why do you keep looking at me like that?” you ask, looking up at him.

“like what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“like I’m about to shatter”

he doesn’t say anything immediately. he instead turns off the stove and gets some bowls out. dishing out a spoonful of soup into two bowls.

he gestures for you to follow him over to the table and you followed. he placed the two bowls of soup on the table. and he then turned to you as you approached.

he took your hand in his and looked intently at you.

“im not waiting for you to shatter. im checking for any cracks so that i can hold them together for you when you’re hurt” he brought his other hand up to your cheek and caressed it softly.

you stare at him for a moment, unsure what to say as your throat tightens up. your heart beating fast.

“that’s kind of poetic from you” you then say.

he tilts his head slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips “i spend all day with hearts. i’ve learned a thing or two”

you laugh softly, unexpected and unforced.

zayne’s hand then squeezes yours “that’s the sound i missed”

you look at him, the man who never demands your healing but offers it, every day, in his quiet way.

and you know you’ll be okay.

[silverhairsimp]

who's gonna take care of you? k. bakugou

I am sicker than sick and couldn't sleep last night so here's some bakugou fluff.

Pairing & CW: Bakugou x f!reader. Reader and Bakugou have two kids. Brief mentions of pregnancy from Mitsuki (Reader is not actually pregnant). pure, sickly sweet fluff.

Katsuki looks at the clock hanging above the kitchen sink, 7:24am. Usually you’d have been up for at least a half hour by now, maybe more. The kids have to be to school at 8:30, it’s only a 12 minute drive, but they like to get there early and play with their friends before their day of learning starts. He looks at the two of them sitting at the counter, digging into their fresh pancakes and waffles with a variety of fruits. They were similar in a lot of ways, but your daughter refuses to eat pancakes, the same goes with your son and waffles. And what kind of number one dad would The Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t make his brats happy?

“You two stay here and finish eating— gonna go check on your ma’,” he calls out to them before heading down the hall, only to stop with a hand on the doorframe to look back at them. “And no eatin’ spoonfuls’a syrup this time! That shi— crap’ll give you diabetes.” 

The two of them laugh at their dads empty threat, knowing they’ll at least sneak one or two spoonfuls before he gets back. 

He has an office day today, full of paperwork and unfished reports that need to be submitted by the end of the week. He’s been working overtime, which means you have too. Working overtime at your own job and taking care of the kids when he gets home too late or leaves too early for work. 

“Baby—“ he calls out when he pushes open your bedroom door. Your cheeks are flushed red, your brows are knit together, you’ve got a mound of blankets on you, yet your feet are sticking out from the bottom. “Hey, y’doing okay?” He asks as he gets closer, sitting next to your sleeping form on the bed when he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, followed by placing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Jesus babe, you’re burnin’ up. Might be running hotter than I normally do…” 

His words are laced with concern as he heads to your shared bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with as cold of water he can get before wringing it out. For good measure, he grabs the thermometer and to confirm his suspicions.

“Open up for me, baby.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your eyes finally open when you bring your hand up to touch the cold cloth on your forehead. “‘Ts cold…” you mumble and he slips the thermometer underneath your tongue. “Yeah and you’re hot—“ he waits for the thermometer to finish rereading before he adds: “101.9 to be exact.” 

You try to sit up, “I’m fine…”but the pressure in your head is too much so you flop back down into the pillows. “I don’t know what year you think I was born, but I know what fine is. And you, are not fine.” 

“But the kids— they have school, you have work— I have things to do around the house.” You try to protest in between a fit of coughs, but he plants an arm against the bed, palm down at your side caging you in. “you know the hag— my mom,” he corrects when you give him the glare, “she loves taking them to school. Eijiro too. I could call either one and they’d drop ‘em off. And with work, that’s one of the perks’a bein’ your own boss.” 

He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, trying to hide the wince at how warm your skin is. Gods you must feel like shit. “Lemme call my mom—“ he steps out of the room and gently closes the door, calling in a favor to the woman who always saves his ass. 

‘Yeah, y/n sick, real sick. Need someone to drop off the beats at school. What? Morning sickness? No she’s not pregnant again. She’s sick sick. Got’a fever of almost 102. Yeah, they ate. Yes, lunches packed. Ugh— what kinda father do you think I— mmgh. Thanks ma. They’ll be ready for ya.’

He comes back in the room slight shake to his head as he thinks back to the conversation he just had with his mom. Your youngest is 6 and she’s been itching for another grand baby, but that’s too bad. She’s got two good ones to love on anyway. “Moms comin’ to pick em up in 15.” 

The two of you can hear the padding of feet running down the hall and your two replicas appear in the door frame. 

“Mommy what’s wrong? Did you catch a bug?” Your 8 year old son asks you as he pushes his hips to the bed. He may have his fathers eyes but he’s got your color hair and the sweetest personality to match. 

“Ew! Why would mommy catch a bug!! That’s so yucky!” Your daughter chimes. She’s got that ash blonde hair to match her fathers and definitely gets his personality. 

“Yeah, squirt, mama’s not feeling great so your Gramma Mitsuki is gonna take you to school.”

“Katsuki— you really shouldn’t have asked your mom to come all the way here.” 

“You say all the way here like she doesn’t live 8 minutes down the road.” He smirks at you, knowing damn well she wasn’t gonna miss the opportunity to be involved in your kids’ lives. 

“Daddy, why can’t we stay and take care of mommy like she takes care of us when we’re sick?” Your boy asks with those gorgeous ruby red eyes peering down at you. “You guys have to stay in school and get good grades. You wanna have your own agency and be the number one hero like your daddy don’t you?” You smile at the two of them and lift your hand off the bed to cup their cheeks one at a time. 

Your daughter flexes her little muscles and grits her teeth. “Yeah mommy! We’ll get strong so we can take good care of you some day!” 

Each of your kiddos leans in to place a kiss to your cheek, it’s no use trying to stop them either. They’re both stubborn, just like you and Katsuki. 

“Go get cleaned up before Gramma gets here— and don’t think I can’t smell the syrup on those sticky fingers, you little shits!” 

It’s no use trying to protest the language when you hear the fit of laughter and screams as they run back down the hall. 

Katsuki gets up to make sure they’re heading out to wash up and grab their school bags while he makes another call to the agency, letting Mina know he won’t be in. 

You’ve nearly fallen back asleep by the time he comes back with a hot bowl of homemade soup, a freshly squeezed cup of orange juice, a ginger shot and two pieces of toast. “They’re right ya know. You’re like super woman to them— and even she needs help sometimes.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and turns on the tv for some back ground noise before he grabs his computer and sits next to you in bed. 

“Katsuki. You’re gonna get sick if you stay here—“ you try to protest and he just smiles and puts the cold rag on your forehead. “Yeah… and when super man needs help; I know you’ll be there too..” He lands a fat one right on your lips and smiles. The two of you share everything together. Even the cooties…

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain. absolute fucking filth. simon fucks us good and proper in the shower this time! PTSD flashbacks/hallucinations, panic attacks, mental health issues are heavy in this one pookies!

hello my silly little friends! when i tell you shit has been crazy, i mean shit as been CRAZY !! I MISSED Y'ALL THOUGH!! i struggled with this one because i wasnt sure if i wanted to add in another scene, or if i was ready to end it just like this.., obviously i decided to end it like this..next one will be alot of comfort and we finally meet johnny!

series masterlist here.

CHAPTER FIVE: retirement?

Simon stood by the bed, watching your sleeping form with a softness in his eyes that few had ever seen. The warm scent of freshly cooked food filled the air as he gently nudged your shoulder.

“C’mon, lovie, wake up,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. You stirred, your lashes fluttering as you blinked sleepily up at him. A slow, lazy smile spread across your lips as you inhaled the delicious aroma.

“Simon…” you sighed dreamily, stretching your limbs like a content cat.

“Made you some food,” he said, setting the plate on the bedside table. “Figured you’d be hungry after earlier.”

You sat up quickly, excitement lighting up your face as you reached for the plate. “You’re the best, Si’.” You took a bite, humming in satisfaction before beginning to chatter away as you eat, enjoying the food he put effort into making for you, even though it was clearly a bit burnt in places. “You know what I wanna make for dinner? Big, juicy burgers, the kind that drip when you bite into ‘em. And I want mac and cheese—real mac and cheese, not that boxed stuff. Oh! And mashed potatoes! The kind that’s so creamy you could eat it with a spoon like pudding. All from scratch.” You were absolutely ravenous, whether from the energy you’d exerted today or from the heat itself you’d never know. 

Simon watched you, utterly enamored. His wolf preened at how easily you envisioned your future, how you just assumed you would be together for these little moments. He wanted to put a ring on your finger immediately. Right now. Drag you to the nearest town and make it official before you could even blink. The thought had been lingering in his mind since the moment he first laid eyes on you, but now? Now it felt like an inevitability.

He smirked as he leaned against the headboard, watching you practically glow with excitement. “So, let me get this straight—” he began, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I fuck you into oblivion, and your idea of a thank you is homemade food?”

You gasped, your cheeks flushing a deep red before you burst into giggles, covering your face with your hands. “Simon!” you whined, shaking your head, but he only chuckled, loving how adorable you were when you got flustered.

“You’re too damn cute,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before rubbing your back soothingly. “Could eat you up myself, babygirl.”

Still smiling, he stood up and stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Gonna start us a shower,” he told you, running a hand through his short, messy hair as he walked toward the bathroom. He paused in the doorway. “Oh, while you’re cooking, I’ll get that broken bed frame picked up. Move the bed from the guest room in here instead. It’s bigger anyway.”

You blinked at him, tilting your head in confusion. “Where will you sleep?” you asked innocently.

Simon turned back to you, a slow, knowing smirk curling his lips. “With you, obviously.”

The realization dawned on you, your lips parting slightly, eyes wide. He wasn’t planning on sleeping in a different room. Not anymore. He wanted to be here, beside you, permanently. And just like that, he knew—he wasn’t just thinking about staying the night. He was already contemplating retirement, or at the very least, switching to a desk job at the base. Something that would allow him to be here. With you.

His little Omega. His mate. His future.

Steam curled around the bathroom as Simon turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right. He turned back to see you stepping in behind him, your skin already flushed from the heat of the room. His hands found your waist, guiding you under the warm spray as he reached for the soap.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, running his hands along your sides, smoothing suds over your skin. His touch was careful at first, reverent, but his fingers couldn’t help but linger over the spots that were still sensitive, still tender from before.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he traced his hands lower, over your hips, down the curve of your thighs. He could smell it—your heat was calming, not gone entirely, but not as urgent as before. Still, you smelled so sweet, so utterly tempting.

“You’re irresistible, you know that?” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as his hands roamed. His wolf rumbled with approval, his body reacting instinctively to yours.

You whimpered, leaning back into him, your body pliant under his touch. “Si’… you keep touching me like that…”

He smirked against your shoulder, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your peaked nipples. “Like what, lovie?” he teased, voice thick with amusement. “M’jus makin’ sure everything is clean for you..”

Your breath hitched, a needy whimper spilling from your lips. His body pressed against yours, firm and unyielding, the heat of him wrapping around you even more than the water cascading over both of you.

His mouth found your neck, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down to the mark he’d left earlier. “You’re mine,” He says, voice filled with a hunger you’d never heard in anyone’s voice before when they talked to you. “Wanna take you again babygirl, but I know your body needs a break..” A sigh escapes your mouth, and you find yourself pressing yourself back against him, his cock already rock hard and pressing firmly into your lower back, right above your ass, you think he whimpers when you arch your back, pressing your tits against his hands and pushing your ass up against his length simultaneously. 

“you want me babygirl?” His voice is a whisper brushing against your skin, lips ghosting after it as his fingers worked, one leaving your breast and traveling along the plane of your soft belly, lovingly caressing as he ghosted to the top of your cunt, fingers just barely brushing you in your most sensitive of spots. “hm? know you’re tired sweet girl, sore, but I promise I’ll be quick..” You whine, leaning your head back against his shoulder as you feel his cockhead brush against your entrance. “you can take it right? such a good girl f’me huh, babygirl?” 

You cry out as you feel the stretch of him sliding into you, the warmth of his hand pressing you against his chest, back arched as you stood on your tip toes, ass bouncing with every slap of his hips against yours. He hit you in a way that made you cry from this angle, the drag of his cock causing immediate overstimulation, you took it like a champ though, his good girl, you just wanted to be good for him. 

“yeah, that’s it honey,” He coos, dropping his fingers to your clit, two of the massive things circling on long, languid strokes. A choked sob leaves your lips, your pussy quivering as yet another orgasm hits you, his filthy praises ringing in your ear as he pumps himself in and out of you a few more times, painting your insides in his cum once more..he was quick about it, just like he promised. 

You were beginning to realize that Simon was good at doing that, even in your fucked out sex haze you could comprehend that he had thus far not broken a single promise to you, in general and as he fucked you (although, you vaguely remember something about him not fucking you until your heat was over..but that was neither here nor there right now). An honest man, he was. 

That hadn’t always been a good thing in your life, honest men, and scared you more than anything else. The dream from the night before flashing through your mind as he pulled out of you, a whimper leaving your lips, from the loss or the thoughts you’re unsure. 

He’s so sweet to you, a stark contrast to the brute way he can talk and behave and you thrive in it, a part of you self satisfied at that small fact. He hums a soothing melody as he washes you, rubbing a body wash along your extremities, gently rubbing over your sensitive mound when he gets to it, knelt before you as he placed a small gentle kiss to your hip, your body pliant to his touch. 

You should be focused on him, you should be returning the favor, soaping his large, broad, war torn body, massaging his sore and achy muscles (you saw the way he cringed when he stood up from couch the other day, heel of his hand brushing gently against his lower back), peppering his skin with soft dainty kisses..it would be the least you could do, really. Instead, you stared through him, looking at him but seeing something else entirely. 

He has to notice, you realize when you see him looking down at you as he rinses out the shampoo from your hair, the way his eyes don’t leave your face as he rinsed his own. You hardly register when he wraps a towel around you and leads you out of the shower, setting you down right in the middle of the double vanity as if you are nothing to lift, as if he could do a hundred reps and never get tired or lose stamina. You hear his voice but you don’t comprehend his words when he leaves you sat there, hardly recognize that he’s even left the room, your mind caught in a revolving door of memories, of things that feel like an auditory hallucination when you hear your papas voice telling you that you’d never be more than a worthless omega, a stain smeared on the existence of his blood line, a tragedy to end all tragedies. what was that saying he had told you that time when he rocked his fist into your eye socket? an eye for an eye? nothing more than a karma laden tragedy sent by the goddess to test his limits..

“…-osie?” You’re jolted from your thought, two firm hands gripping your shoulders as they shake you. “there she is..” He sighed in a way that made your heart race, as if he’d been worried. “You with me, swee’art?” 

You nod, pressing your face into his chest as he rubs your back soothingly. “Thank you..” You whisper, eyes closing briefly as he gives you the smallest of squeezes, holding you to his chest for a moment. It’s sweet, and gentle, grounding you back down to earth, to the present, a reminder to breathe, to enjoy the time you have with this wonderful, beautiful man stood above you, wrapping his arms around you, welcoming you in with a kind of love and warmth that you’d rarely ever felt in your life. 

When you separate, you headed down the stairs to the kitchen, to make that big feast you were talking about, he to your room to dismantle the bed that he broke fucking you earlier, it’s with his shirt on your shoulders, hanging down your body, somehow like a dress on you despite your pudgy, your pussy bare as you clamber down, a load of laundry in your arms, basket laden with the sheets from your mattress, the shirt of his that he had tucked under you while he was sleeping, now stained with cum and drool.

You set the basket down at the door to the basement, where the washer and dryer are, and maybe its your imagination, maybe it’s your over productive thoughts warped from your heat, emotion running high, but you swear the door is talking to you. You swear its got his voice, swear that the gold, hand etched door knob turns into his fist, shaking at you in violent rage for..for god only knows what, you’d seen that thing shaking at you for something as small as taking too loud of a breath before, so really who knew what you’d done to set him off now. 

You leave it there, sitting in front of the door as you turn your back to it, letting out an uneasy breath as you grab your suddenly pain filled chest, heart racing. Your insides felt like they were being clinched, wrung out like wet laundry before being hung up to dry, felt tears well in your eyes as you heard his voice in your head, screaming, screaming, tearing you down with everything that he had, ripping your mind apart. It was as if the door had come alive and had grabbed you from behind, shown you exactly what happened down there, as if you didn’t relive the memories on a daily basis. 

“STOP IT!” You shout, throwing the closest thing to you at the door, a casserole dish you realize, left over from the morning your heat started. It shatters into what looks like a hundred different pieces, some of them bouncing back and scraping against the bare skin on your legs, lingering stinging wounds akin to the kind that you were so used to. Akin to the hours spent picking them out of your knees when you were younger, before you were saved. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” 

You don’t hear the thundering of the steps above you, don’t hear anything, don’t see anything but the man of your literal nightmares coming out of the basement door, large shards of glass sticking from his head as he grins at you, blood pouring into his mouth and staining his teeth red. You don’t want to see it anymore, you can’t bear the thought that even in your isolated little cabin, with your Alpha upstairs that the one who created you could torture you still. “STOP! STOP! STOP!” You don’t realize you’ve begun hitting yourself until it’s too late, don’t realize that the large form suddenly in front of you is Simon, not until after you’ve screamed bloody murder at him, until he’s got you tackled to the floor, damn near sitting on you as he pins your clenched fists to the floor, right above your head, you eyes still streaming with tears and your temples pounding from the pain you’d just inflicted upon yourself. 

You’re a crying spluttering mess, too out of your mind to realize that the man above you is nearly in hysterics, face red and eyes wide with panic as he watches you break down, watches you look wide eyed and horrified at some invisible force. Oh, you had scared him. Had made his heart stop beating for merely a moment with that first scream, with the sound of the shattering glass. 

It took everything in him to calm you down, to get your hands to unclench, to get you to stop trying to hurt yourself, him. 

“Eyes on me lovie,” He breathed, keeping your gaze locked on him so he could calm you down, he stroked the skin of your arms, where his hands were still locking them above your head. He needed you to calm, needed you to snap out of..whatever this was. He needed you to know that you were safe, that nothing and nobody would ever hurt you when he was around..especially him, because you were looking at him like he was somebody else entirely, like you were terrified to be near him. You shake your head, choking on air as you start to sob. “S’okay baby, keep those eyes on me, yeah? Can you do tha’” 

A nod, barely there. You couldn’t get your breath, couldn’t get your chest to stop feeling like it was being squeezed in a vice, like your heart was being sucked out of your body through your fucking throat. “I-h-u-rts-” You hiccup, finally stopping the wild bucking you were doing under him. “Mak-ke i-t s-toop” You were choking on words, on fear, on memories of a past life that shouldn’t haunt you anymore. “Pl-easee, c-ann’t br-e-ea-thee” 

Simon, for what it was worth, was doing everything he could. Everything he could possibly think of to help you, and as you started hiccuping some more, struggling to breathe, he recognized it for what it was: a PTSD Flashback. His body felt like caving in on him when he realized that something so horrible had happened to you that would cause you to suffer in the same way he often did. He wanted to rip the world apart at it’s fucking seams for doing this to you, wanted to make it feel the pain that you probably felt, wanted to bury the fucking person who put this intense of a fear into your brain, your body. He would piss on the grave too, if you would let him. 

“Rosie, baby, look at me..” He whispered, letting his voice soften. He switched his hands so that he was holding both of yours in one, still keeping them above your head, not quite trusting you to have free range, he didn’t care if you hit him, not one bit, he’d happily take the blows, but he was afraid you’d hit yourself some more, afraid that you’d knock yourself out somehow. “Shh, shh..just breathe babygirl, just breathe..know it hurts honey, but you gotta breathe if you want it to feel better..” What was it his therapist had told him? Focus? Focus and breathe…focus and breathe..your eyes were all over the place, pupils dilated from the adrenaline he assumed, looking everywhere but at him. He growled, trying to hold back his own tears as he gripped your face in his large hand, fingers squeezing your jaw as they held you still, making your lips pucker as he forced you to look at him, deep into his brown eyes. You were trembling under him, watching him with those big eyes. 

“alri’ lovie, you’re gonna do as I say, okay?” You nod, muffled hiccups coming from your mouth still. “You can keep your eyes open, or you can close ‘em, whatever helps better, baby, but you gotta fuckin’ breathe for me, righ’?” Another nod, breaths coming short and quick, your face turning red from what he presumes is lack of appropriate blood flow, or maybe from the strain of the struggle. You don’t close your eyes. A sign of trust, he hopes. “Breathe with me, baby, okay?” He’s so damn scared, he’s hoping you’re not about to pass out. How would he explain this to John? He’d think he broke his pretty little live in omega.. “In through your nose, right?” You do as he says, doing it with him even. “Breathe in all that fear and anger from whatever the fuck just happened, and then breathe it all out, let it all out into the world, okay? It belongs to the universe now..” Your eyes don’t waver from him, and fuck it all if he doesn’t fall somehow more in love with you for it, he see’s you visibly start to calm down, sees your eyes go from as wide as saucers to a normal size as you work with him. “Good girl..” He whispers, watching you inhale every time he does, exhale when he does. 

You go ten breaths before he feels your body start to relax, fifteen before he feels comfortable letting go of your face and hands, though he remains on top of you. He’s quite aside from the occasional whisper of praise, reminding you that you’re his good girl, that you’re doing so good for him right now. 

After a few long minutes, you finally feel like your chest isn't about to explode, like your lungs aren't on fire. You don’t see him anymore, dont hear him. He’s gone. He’s been gone from your life for almost a decade by this point, hadn’t bothered you like this in a long, long time. ‘And he won’t ever bother you again, little one..’ Ah, there she was, that sweet, sweet wolf. She had kept you safe back then, as safe a she could anyway without being allowed to shift into her true form. She had been the only maternal figure you had too, had nursed your wounds for you from the inside out, voice cooing at you in your head. Maybe that was why you put up with her cunty side..she deserved to feel her feelings in any way she saw fit after the hell you both went through, you both did. It was her who had saved you too, who had grunted up the strength to take over your mind long enough to get John’s attention that day, had known somehow that he would help you.. ‘And look at what it brought us too, a quiet life..an alpha of our own..you and I, we’ll have a good life with him, the goddess sent him to us..penance for the life she gave you before..’  Maybe she was right. Maybe this was the Goddess’s way of an apology for the shit she had birthed you into. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, tears streaming from your eyes. Your head hurt, your heart hurt..You could barely look up at him, he didn’t deserve a mate that was this messed up. That hallucinated and lost her mind. That was your scar to bear, no one else’s. ‘Don’t you realize that he’s just as messed up as we are? That he’s got just as many scars as us? We were meant for each other, little one..in more ways than one..’

taglist: @wise-owl @bingoz @astrxsee @gazsluckyhat @howlerwolfmax @thisbitch-6 @littlelovebug98 @ungodlydilf @madsothree @rosallels @brilliantbecca94 @jaxz21 @mk-kbtbb @silas-aeiou @kelbowmacaroni @kittygonap @eremika104

[kxsagi]

Sae headcanon: This man's to-go breakfast when he's in Spain is this: https://cakewhiz.com/easy-yogurt-parfait-recipe/ Not only is it easy yo make, he can also customize it however he wants.

“𝐲𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐬"

a/n: BRO YOGURT PARFAITS ARE LIFE

i totally agree with this headcanon, but really think at the end of the day that sae just customizes his as the normal yogurt parfait since he’s so boring like that

kinda just wrote this one out but i am not too sure what reader is to sae, they definitely know each other/are best friends, but you’re staying at his house because your apartment is getting repainted. leaving it up to interpretation! 

(don't know art credits sorry)

you wake up to the sound of the window cracking open. 

the madrid sun is nosy, peeking in without an invitation, but sae’s already moving around the kitchen in that slow, deliberate way he does when he thinks no one’s watching. you squint from the couch bed, technically a temporary setup while your apartment gets painted, but mostly an excuse to sprawl near sae’s outrageously nice kitchen. 

he doesn’t notice you’re awake. or maybe he does and is pretending. hard to tell with him. 

he’s in a plain white tee and gray sweats, focus sharp like he’s about to perform surgery. but really, he’s just making… yogurt? 

you blink. yep. yogurt. with fruit. and granola from a jar that looks like it came with its own adobe light filter. 

you watch him scoop greek yogurt into a glass like it’s a science experiment. strawberries next. then blueberries. and the granola gets this dramatic slow-motion sprinkle like he’s in a cereal commercial. 

“is that breakfast or performance art?” you finally mumble, voice hoarse. 

he doesn’t even flinch. “you’re up.” 

“and you’re… parfaiting.” 

he slides the spoon into the glass and leans against the counter, taking a bite like he’s got all the time in the world. “do you want some or are you just going to narrate my meal?” 

you sit up, blanket falling off your shoulder. “depends. is that the good granola or the weird one you got by accident?” 

he sighs, the way he does when he’s pretending to be annoyed but is actually entertained. “i threw the weird one out. this has chocolate chunks.” 

you blink again, dramatically. “sae itoshi? sharing chocolate chunk granola? are we in an alternate timeline?” 

he grabs another glass from the cabinet. 

you shuffle over, still wrapped in the blanket like a cocoon, and plop onto one of the bar stools. “you know, most guys would make pancakes to impress their guest.” 

“i’m not most guys,” he says, not missing a beat. 

“you’re not even a pancake guy,” you mutter as he layers yours. “you’re a yogurt snob. a parfait elitist.” 

he raises an eyebrow as he spoons in the final layer. “say one more word and i’ll give you the off-brand berries.” 

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.” 

“watch me.” 

but instead of following through on his threat, he slides the glass over to you. perfect layers. strawberries on top. it looks like something you’d pay €14 for at a café with mediocre wifi. 

you try a bite. 

it’s annoyingly good. 

“i hate how this actually slaps,” you grumble, and he smirks into his glass like he already knew. 

you eat in silence for a while, just the sound of spoons clinking and birds gossiping outside the window. 

then you glance over. “hey.” 

he hums, not looking up. 

“next time you make this,” you say around a spoonful, “can you add honey?” 

he finally looks at you. “do you want me to ruin it?” 

“it’s not ruining, it’s flavor layering.” 

sae rolls his eyes, but he’s already calculating how much honey to drizzle next time. you can tell. 

you take another bite and smile at him, your parfait prince, yogurt snob of madrid, quietly sweet in his own way. 

you think you might like mornings like this. 

and maybe, just maybe, he does, too. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[busybeewriting]

Shut up and let me help you!

Summary: Reader is sick, and March tries to help you out…but it does not go well.

Warnings: None!

It was truly just a cold. One that left you cooped up in bed all day shivering and sweating at the same time. Your nose was red and raw, stuffy and runny; it felt like your head would explode with all the pressure. Your limbs were achy and sore. All you wanted was to be in bed and sleeping it away. It was just a cold, but god you felt miserable.

Besides that? You were a farmer. You couldn’t stop watering your crops- lest you want to have no money for the next week. You couldn’t refuse to refill your chickens feed. The cows still needed to be milked. So despite the ache deep within your bones, you got up and got dressed. Making your way out of the farmhouse to water your crops, which felt like it too even longer than before due to your cold. Then you trudged over to your chickens, letting them outside and giving them all pets and feeding them. Same to the cows, adding the bonus step of milking them. When did that leave you breathless? You wanted to curl back up in bed, but you couldn’t. You needed more seeds. So, off to the general store you went.

What you were expecting though was to stand, only to get so light headed you nearly buckled under the weight of your body. But a pair of strong arms caught you just under your arms. “Jesus, Y/N you looks awful.” March’s voice rings out. His tone laced with disappointment. You frown a little, you thought you were past his disappointment voice.

When you finally got your footing back, you blinked slowly. “March…? What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice scratchy. Putting a hand on your throat you frowned- Great. Another symptom.

March’s frown deepens. “You were late. You always come up at lunch and eat with me. You weren’t there.” Your eyes widen, quickly looking at your phone to see it was well past noon. “If you’re sick, you shouldn’t be farming.” He continues, crossing his arms as he scans you over for anymore ailments.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You dismiss, only for it to turn into a coughing fit. March firmly patting your back to help you through it. “I’m fine.” You croak out.

“Bullshit.” He grumbles, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. Almost immediately you melt into the warmth of his skin, wanting to curl up in his arms and sleep it all away. He brings you inside and sets you on the bed. Kneeling down and helping to take off your shoes, “Can you get into your pajamas okay?”

You manage a nod. Getting up and quickly throwing them back on. March doesn’t let you protest before he drapes a blanket around your shoulders and gets you tucked into bed. “What needs to be done?” He asks softly, for him at least.

“I need to replant my seeds.” You sigh, “And then water those ones. I also need to clear an area for my orchard. And call in the chickens and cows tonight.” You tell him, trying to sit up to protest him helping. But his gently pushes you down.

“Don’t insult me. I can chop wood and break rocks. And how hard could be planting seeds be? I’ve got this, you just rest.” He tells you, his voice is surprisingly gentle but still stern as he speaks. He tucks you back in, pressing a kiss to your head before he frowns. He’d have to stop Valen and see if she knew how to get your fever down.

After a few more minutes of him assuring you that your farm would survive him. He was off, going up. and getting the seeds from Nora. Who was surprised nonetheless.

“March? Buying…seeds?” She asks with a raised eyebrow as she looks at the piles he’d place on the counter. He followed your list to a tee. Every single seed accounted for.

He looks away, scoffing a little. “Yeah. Y/N’s sick. They’ve got a cold.” He grumbles out. “Idiot was trying to farm.”

Nora gasps, “Oh no! Here.” She leaves the counter for a second before she comes back and sets down a bottle of cold medicine and honey. “Put some of the medicine on a spoon, add a couple drops of honey. It should help.”

March blinks at the kindness, but nodded and gathered everything up after paying. “Thanks Nora.” He nods before stepping out, he looks over at the Inn. Frowning, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He walked into the Inn to be greeted by Hemlock.

“March! Hey I was wondering when you’d stop in.” He grins.

“I don’t have time to talk.” March says quickly,

“Y/N’s sick…is there anyway I can take some soup to go?”

Hemlocks eyes widen, “For sure. Hang tight for a second.” He says as he rushes off. March waits impatiently, tapping his foot. He was loosing daylight quick and he still needed to do so much…is this why you were always running around? Fuck. He’d have to help you out more often so you didn’t work yourself sick.

Hemlock returns with a large container of soup. “Here, it’s on us for all they do.” He nods, “Tell her to get better.” March blinks again, shocked by the kindness on display. This whole town really did love you, huh.

March nods in thanks and makes his way back to the farm. Dropping the seeds outside your fenced in crops, and carefully bringing in the soup and medicine. But he stops for a second, you’re sleeping so peacefully. He couldn’t wake you and ask you anything… He sighed heavily. Putting everything away inside and moving to your side to feel if your fever has subsided.

It didn’t. And he frowned. Layering another blanket over you in hopes it would make you sweat it out.

Moving outside, he sighed. It was already almost evening. But he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Grabbing the hoe he gave you, starting to till the soil like he’s seen you do a hundred times. It was harder than he gave you credit for. Not that he’d ever tell you. But once it was done, albeit sloppily. He got down and started to scatter the seeds. Did he need to…plant them more? Was that a thing? He remembers Celine once saying to use your pinky…no way you did that to every seed…

But he does it. Kneeling down and painstakingly pressing each one in. Only to hear a laugh, his head snaps up to see you standing in the doorway. Blanket wrapped around you, “Are you pressing all the seeds in?”

He goes red. “N-no!” He lies. Like a liar. “What are you doing up! You’re sick get back in bed!” He commands, standing and brushing his hands on his apron. Trying to shoo you back inside. You’re laughter filling the air again.

“I just woke up, you worry wart.” You smile at your boyfriend. “You still need to water them. I usually do that and then sprinkle the dirt on.”

He blinks, that. made so much more sense than what he was doing. “There’s a method to my madness.” He frowns, still ushering you back to bed. “Go lay down.”

You roll your eyes, “Thank you March.” You grin.

He scoffs, but there’s a slight blush. And then he goes outside, grabbing your watering can- why was it so old?! Did you not upgrade?! He lets out a frustrated sigh. You were getting an all new set of tools when he was done here. You got scrapped up in the mines, all the time. You have him ore- you little shit. You gave him all your copper so he would like you-?!

He is so gonna- a low moo catches his attention. He’s looking over at your Cow now who is staring at him. “…what?”

“Mooooooo.”

“…Mooo?” He says back confused. He quickly finishes watering your crops before leaning on the fence to look at the cow. “What.”

“Moooooo.”

He blinks, fuck. Trying to figure out what a cow wants is going to be hard. “Uh, okay.” He hops over the fence and looks around. “Here, food.” He says walking into the barn and offering a hand of feed. But the cow just huffs. “What? you eat out of Y/N’s hand all the time.” He huffs more when the cow fully turns and ignores him. “You fuckin-“ He grumbles. “Well if you’re gonna be an asshole go inside.” He moves to ring the bell but the cows merely just look at him. He points, “Inside. Go.” He tries to usher them in.

The cows do not move. March groans, “You stupid-“ He’s interrupted by the bell ringing again. His head whips around and sees you ringing it. “Y/N!” He frowns, “What part of fucking relax do you not understand?”

“You were struggling.” You shrugs, “Besides I ate some soup. I feel better now.” You smile and nod at him.

March squints, picking you up just under your bottom. Carrying you like nothing over to the chicken coop and letting you ring the bell as the run in. Then he once again deposits you into bed. “You need better equipment, and I swear to god if you run around like a madman because you’re busy out here I’m gonna personally come farm with you.”

You laugh, “Got it. I’ll go to the mines-“

“No. Shut up I still have all that fuckin ore you gave me. You’re getting new shit. Now lay down.” He gently pushes you back into bed. “Sleep. Be better I don’t wanna farm in the morning.”

You feel a smirk. “Too much work for you?”

“…Shut up.” You let out a loud laugh, pulling him down into bed with you as you snuggle in.

“Thank you March.” You smile kissing his cheek. He sighs, his cheeks flushing as he wraps an arm around you.

“…don’t mention it.”

A/N: I know it wasn’t exactly chaotic but I still hope you enjoyed it!

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Aespa: Being Jealous

A/N: I’ll try to post some more over the next month but no promises🙂‍↕️

Karina

You and Ningning were sitting next to each other on the couch, chattering and giggling as you both watched the show. You had been pestering Ningning to watch it for a while, ever since you and Karina began to watch it together a few weeks ago and she finally agreed to try it out while you both were hanging out today.

Eventually it was getting cold so you got a set of blankets and you both got under one as you both continued to binge the show.

All of a sudden, Ningning began to get distracted much to your annoyance as one of your favorite scenes was approaching and you wanted to see her reaction to it.

Until you realized why Ningning was distracted.

She was looking at Karina standing in the doorway, staring at the two of you.

“Oh I didn’t realize it’s this late already!”, Ningning suddenly says as she realizes what’s about to happen, “I better get going!”, she adds and quickly exits, leaving you to your fate.

You take a deep breath, accepting your fate. “So listen…”, you plead, Karina only raises an eyebrow as she tangles a finger in her hair while tilting her head to look at you.

At that point you knew it was too late, Karina had a busy day today which is why you and Ningning hung out. But in hindsight, the two of you despite being good friends did seem too close out of context in that situation especially when you were watching ‘the show’, the show that’s your and Karina’s.

And she wasn’t in a mood for excuses. After much groveling and apologizing, Karina finally relented, slapping your arm and shoulder a few times and also pinching your ear before finally aggressively making out with you in order to stake her claim on you to prove that you were hers and only here.

Giselle

You were out on a date with Giselle in the restaurant she had been wanting to try for ages.

Everything was going well though if you were completely honest, you did feel as though Giselle had been acting a bit odd the last couple days, almost like she was trying to act like she was being nonchalant and normal.

“So how’s your week been?”, she asks as she takes a bite.

“Yes it was nice I guess, nothing too special”, you reply as you reflect on your week.

“Oh? Really? I’d have thought you being on a date here with Rei would have been special”, she says as she calmly takes a sip of her drink while looking at you in a totally normal and non-threatening manner.

You immediately freeze and look back at her like a deer caught in headlights. “What…?”

“Oh don’t look so scared”, she says with a smile though her tone sounds scary. “I know about that, I saw you both the other day while I was passing by to get some clothes. It was such a surprise! And Rei texted me about it too. How surprised I was to see you go there because Rei asked but put it off when I have been asking you for so long!”, she says cheerfully.

“No look, Giselle!”, you stammer as you watch her smile blankly at you while she slowly puts down her spoon and picks up her knife and fork.

“It wasn’t a date!”, you protest, “Rei had been pestering me to try out a good food place she found and I had been putting her off for too long, I didn’t know it would be here!”

“Such a wonderful set of coincidences!”, she chuckles as she twirls her hair. “I think you’ll enjoy the comforts of the couch for the next week.

“But-”, you begin but immediately stop when you see her glare. This was going to be a long night…and not in a good way.

Winter

You were doing a live stream and just goofing about while Minjeong was sitting close by, occasionally commenting.

Everything was going well, you were having fun, chat seemed really interactive and funny, it was all well.

Until chat suddenly began to be infatuated with you, complimenting you and trying to rizz you up.

It was fine at first and you and Minjeong were both laughing and finding it amusing but after a few minutes, you could feel her staring at you.

You cleared your throat and tried to move on as the daggers she was glaring at you were beginning to feel like they were piercing your skin.

But chat had other ideas, while they didn’t realize Minjeong was already feeling jealous, they thought you were trying to change the topic to avoid Minjeong feeling jealous.

Obviously they doubled down and began to flirt even more. The comments and super chats were coming in so quick it was getting hard to keep up. You didn’t even realize when Minjeong left the room.

20 minutes later you went to the bedroom to find her laying down with a pout.

You got in bed with her, trying to wrap your arm around her only for her to bite it.

It took a lot of reassuring and convincing from you before Minjeong was able to calm down. She hates it when you get so many flirty comments at once because she begins to feel like she doesn’t give you enough attention and compliments herself even though you are the most precious thing to her.

Ningning

Ningning felt like her entire world just broke when she saw the notifications on your phone. “Last night was amazing.”, “I had so much fun.”, “We need to do it again soon.”

She envisioned herself standing in a never ending foggy green field, forever cursed to roam the earth all alone to process this betrayal for eternity.

As she stood there, frozen, shocked and in disbelief, you walked in the room. “What’s wrong Ningning?”. She gave no response.

So you walked over and saw the notifications and quickly realized the misinterpretation she likely must have had.

“Ningning no!”, you quickly call out as you grab her shoulders and shake her to try and break her out of the trance she seemed to put herself into.

Meanwhile Ningning was walking around the field, squatting to pluck a flower and put in her hair. ‘I guess this isn’t so bad…oh! Is that a cliff? I can jump from there!’, her thoughts were all over the place when she came back to reality, blinking slowly as she looks at you.

“It’s not what you think! It’s about gaming! I was playing last night remember! I wasn’t cheating on you. I was playing games and had a great time with my friend. That’s what she’s talking about! Because we hadn’t played in a while!”, you quickly explain.

Ningning takes a deep breath and then sighs in relief. So she doesn’t have to go crazy after all. But just as quickly she frowns, “But why is she talking that way? She couldn’t have phrased it in a better manner???”

“Well….”, you begin but trail off as you didn’t have an answer to her valid question. She gives you a side eye, “I don’t like this. I don’t like her. If you wanna play games, play with me, I’ll learn…”, she says facing away from you and pouting.

You pull her into a hug and chuckle, reassuring her and Ningning relaxes soon after, realizing that she may have actually overreacted slightly but she couldn’t help it, she can’t bear the thought of you being unfaithful to her.

[cherrishkissed]

𝓝𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑦𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑘 ᥫ᭡, 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ

Preview 𖥸, do bunnies love peaches?, remmick x black fem! reader, kinda proof read? 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 2.1𝓴

˚₊‧꒰ა 💌 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝒮peaking with him was a breath of fresh air. He wasn't a bad-looking man, either. After that night, I thought about it some more. My father had led a nice song throughout the night, and to my surprise, so did Remmick. He sat next to me, which I didn't mind. He told me where he was from—an Irish man coming down for a quick visit, he had said.

𝒞ℴ𝓊𝓅𝓁ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓇

Early mornings and even earlier birds.

I wake up and rub my eyes slightly, trying to focus my vision. I then wash up and put on my morning gown. I brush and rinse out my mouth, the morning seemed nice and sunny. I was in the mood for something sweet to drink, so I headed to our kitchen and started making some pomegranate lemonade.

I was given some fresh ones that a neighbor brought over. I take them out of the woven basket and wash them off, and place the seeds in a bowl to be crushed.

I take some lemons and my brown knife to cut them. I then grab my momma's pitcher, the one with the fruit print over it. I add in some sugar and the fruit juices, I mix them up with the spoon.

As I mix I think back to him, why was I focused on him? It's been 4 days since I last saw him, where did he disappear off to?

“Yous up early,” my momma comes walking in the kitchen, her hair in her signature style.

Nicely rolled and pinned in place, her slippers slide against the floor as she walks over.

She stands near the counter, “Lemonade?” She asks me.

I nod, “I finally thought of something to do for them pomegranates,” I say and keep mixing. “You want some?” I ask her.

“Sure baby,” she nods. She watches as I pour her a glass, she glances to the screen door which appears…slightly open. “Did you open that door y/n?,” she asks me, staring at it.

To be honest I don't think I did, it was just closed. “Yeah I wanted some fresh air in, it's nice out” I say and sip my cup of lemonade. It was sweet and slightly tangy, the pomegranate and lemons was surprisingly a good combo. I enjoyed a little pulp in mine.

“You be watchful of that door honey,” she says and sips her cup. “When this evening comes close it.”

I nod to her. I knew what she meant, but we ain't had no problems with them yet.

She takes another sip of the lemonade, she seemed to enjoy it which made me smile a bit.

“Your father and I are going to head to Mrs. Solomon's farm for some stuff then go to the church, do you want to come with us?” She places the cup down in the sink and washes it out.

“Will she have peaches?” I ask my momma, I loved peaches, especially the big golden ones in the jars.

“Not sure, maybe, it won't hurt to look right?,” she lightly smiles at me. Sure, it won't hurt.

I quickly get washed up, and put on a nice dress. I picked something nice and flowy, since it was hot out. I put on one of my dresses that I didn't mind getting dirty, and some flat slip-ons.

I fix my hair in a cute style and head out with my ma and pa.

(The dress we wearing is similar to the first pic, your hair however could be either one. Two of my fav girls btw🤭iykyk!)

Pa drove the car down to Ms. Solomon's farm. Ms.Solomon was very nice. I enjoyed her talks and writings. She was a small writer, farmer, and a good friend of my mom's.

I sit in the car looking out the window, all the animals and many fields filled with produce. My father had the radio on, it played soft jazz which he liked.

I happened to bring along my purse as well, I took my stuff for crocheting with me in case I got bored. I started crocheting together a small brown bunny.

We finally get there and I hop out. I greet her and play with the animals for a bit. Unfortunately, she did not have peaches, so I got some apples instead.

However, I did enjoy playing with animals, who knew cows loved Jazz?

We drove back home and I walk inside the house. I place the fruit up and cut one up to eat. My parents then say they're gonna go to the church, I nod and tell them bye. My father walks out the house with his keys and hat but my momma stays for a bit.

She lightly pulls me into the corner, she seemed off, like she didn't have a good feeling.

“I really think you should come with us y/n, you can help with the crates and paintings.”

“Momma last time I touched them crates it nearly split my hand,” I say referring to my bandaged hand.

She sighs and nods her head, she then taps my hand lightly.

“Alright honey, just keep them doors locked. Don't open that door for nobody” she stressed on the words locked and nobody.

I nod and chuckle a little, “I will mamma, y'all gon be long?”

“I hope not, I do enjoy my bed and rest. Your father has got some meetings however,’’ she chuckles.

“Well I'll be here momma, did you want some supper when you all came back?”

“You're fine baby, we might go to a restaurant for a meal.”

I then nod and say bye to her, she kisses my head and walks out the door. After they gone I start putting up the fruits n vegetables. I then wash clothes just have time pass by. I then head back to the kicthen to wash the dishes.

It was getting later on in the day and im still washing plates and pots. As I'm washing the plates I hear a soft knock on the front door. Is Momma back already?, I ask myself. I wipe my hands on a cloth and place it on the table.

As I'm about to open the door I wait just a moment, if it was ma why would she knock on the door?

She literally has a key?

Instead of opening it, I walk back to the sink. I keep washing the dishes, scrubbing off extra food bits, which I hated. As I'm rinsing off the last plate I hear another knock, this time a little harder. I still wasn't gon open that door.

*knock knock knock*

Who the hell- I mumble, I then go to the door. I lightly opened it, I saw some shoes, I wasn't familiar with them, sure wasn't my father's. I opened the door and to my surprise stood that man Remmick.

“Hey pretty lady,” he says softly.

I lightly squint, now why is he here? I then smile and glance down at the jar of peaches in his hand. He turns over the jar to reveal the label brand of peaches. “Lil birdy told me you liked peaches, which happens to be good for me.” He says softly, “I love peaches.”

I was flattered in certain matters, but for one, how did he know where I lived? Where did he hear that I loved peaches? Ms.Solomon? My parents? Myself? No. I never told him that, I never-

“You're heads running huh?,” he chuckles, showing that smile. “I had, saw your old man at Ms.Solomons a little earlier, he was talking to her about peaches. And, you're the sweetest thing close to it, so I figured that be somethin you'd like?”

I lightly smile, how sweet… no what.

I stood there lost in thought before he broke my train of thought. “You gon take 'em? Or do I eat em myself?” he asks lightly, tilting the jar, he then holds out the Jar. I then slowly grab if from him and go to place it on the counter, I then come back to the door. “Thank you” I say trying to control my smile.

“Shouldn't leave that door wide open miss, anyone could walk in” he says, leaning against the door frame.

“You didn't walk in here?” I ask and fold my arms.

“I haven't been invited in yet, can't be rude to a lady. Need to have permission.” He says, eyeing me, “Do I have your permission doll?”

The name rolls off his tongue so easily, almost to where I was about to let him in.

“No sir” I say and scoff. “Sweet talk don't work on me,” I say firmly and stare at him. He smiles, and sits up from the frame, “Was worth a try hm?”

I roll my eyes and shift the weight to my other foot ,“It's late, you eat anything?" I asked him, why? I don't know, just for conversation. He did bring me a big jar of peaches.

He shifts his eyes back to me slowly.

“You worryin’ ‘bout me now sweetness?” he replies not mockingly, but softly. As if he was testing the words that came out his own mouth.

I roll my eyes at the name, “Don't flatter yourself, I just don't want no man fainting on my mommas porch, das all,” I reply.

He tilted his head just slightly, gaze drifting down the road like he was remembering something.

“I had somethin’ earlier,” he said, voice low. “Did the trick.”

That pause hung heavy. Not too long. Just enough to make the air feel thick. He didn’t look at me right away.

When he finally did, it was with that quiet, unreadable half-smile. “Don’t need much.”

“What kinda something?” I ask, turning fully toward him now.

That smile of his pulls at the corner of his mouth—slow, unreadable.

“Somethin’ warm. Quick, no fuss…”

Speaking in riddles I see…I think to myself.

His tone don’t change, but the air does. It gets heavier. Still. Even the night sounds seem to hush down to hear what he’ll say next. I don’t say nothin’. Just stare.

“What did you eat?,” I ask him carefully.

“Rabbit” He says too smoothly. “Rabbits can be fast, but get tired quick”

“Hm, I ain't never had rabbit, what it taste like,” I ask him, still feeling a little off about his answer.

He pauses, then answers plain. “Gamey. A little bitter, if it’s been scared too long.”

I look at him sideways. “That a thing?”

He nods once. “Fear changes the flavor. You can taste it. Makes the meat tough.”

I just continue to stare at him, fear changes…flavor….

He pushes off the doorframe slowly, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“I should get going. Gettin’ real late.”

“Yeah,” I say with a small nod, watching him.

“You enjoy them peaches now,” he adds, stepping back a bit. “And tell me how they taste.” That felt, oddly, intimate, or maybe I was just thinking with my flesh at the moment.

I let out a quiet chuckle, easing up just a little. “I will Remmick.”

He pauses mid-step, glancing over his shoulder.

“You remembered my name.”

It doesn’t sound like a question—more like he already knew I would. He pushes off the doorframe slow, sliding his hands into his pockets.

He steps down off the porch slowly, like he’s takin’ his time with the gravel under his boots. Doesn’t say much, just listens to the night for a second.

Then he looks back at me, a half-step into the dark.

“You get some rest, alright?” I nod, watching him.

“You too.”

He gives a little tilt of his head, a smile soft but sure.

“I ain’t the restin’ kind.’’ He holds my gaze for a moment longer than he should’ve, then turns and walks off, like we’re gonna pick up the same talk tomorrow. I close the door and think to myself.

The way he said it. Like he meant more than the words.

I press my lips together, shake the thought off, and make my way to the back. The house is still, cool, the hum of the fan in the corner the only sound now.

I slip off my shoes, climb into bed without turnin’ on the lamp. Lay there in the dark with my hands folded on my stomach, starin’ at the ceiling.

He ain’t do nothin’ wrong. Not really. But still...

Something about him just don’t sit right.

And yet...

I turn on my side, pull the cover up to my chin, and let sleep come slow, my last thought caught between his voice and the sound of boots in gravel.

𝑳𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 ✦ ⋆ ࣪.

My door creaks open, ‘’Y/n?,’’ I hear my mommas soft voice. I rub my eyes and sit up from my bed, ‘’Momma?,’’ I ask tiredly. She seems a little sad, she then comes over. ‘’What happened Momma?’’ I ask her still half awake.

“They found a body down at the juke joint,” the words come low, almost whispered—like speakin’ ‘em too loud might call the devil back to finish what he started.

“Said it wasn’t no accident neither. Blood all over the back steps. Like whoever did it… wanted to make sure folks saw.”

My eyes widen, ‘’what?’’

@𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

☾.꒰ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ꒱˚✿˖°

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 !

HIII thanks for the reads on the last chapter, I'm lowkey liking this fanfic I'm writing ngl. As always pls like n share, feel free to give tips as well <3

[edenunbuilt]

── ϧ𝑒 forever, maybe.ೃ࿔

℘ jj maybank x fem!kook!reader ৴ length: 1k ৴ time of posting: 11:06pm

summary: jj finally accepts forever, as long as it means seeing where you end

content: sfw ﾉ soft!jj ♡

author's notes: can you tell i get most of my inspo from songs? how very original of me, i know! in all seriousness, i always seem to get my best ideas when i lose myself in music filled daydreams. here's a lil' something inspired by noah kahan's forever, very jj coded might i add.

jj has never been good at holding onto things.

he learned young that nothing is permanent—not people, not homes, not even the ocean when the tide pulls back. 

forever used to sound like a death sentence. like a slow, inevitable decline into something worse. he never wanted to think that far ahead, never let himself imagine a future he wouldn’t be able to sustain. because forever meant watching things slip through his fingers, meant waiting for the good to turn sour, meant setting himself up to lose. his grip has always been loose, fingers slipping off everything he’s ever wanted to keep.

maybe that’s why he tells himself that whatever this thing with you is, it won’t last.

but it’s hard to believe his own bullshit when you’re stretched out beside him on the porch like some deity, your arm draped over your stomach, sundress bunched up just enough to reveal tanned legs. your hair spills over the wood like something out of a dream, and you’re looking up at the stars with that quiet kind of curiosity, like you’re searching for something, letting the summer air wrap around you like it’s got nowhere else to be.

jj watches you instead.

he won’t say it out loud, but there’s something about the way you exist—effortlessly, like you’ve never had to fight to keep anything in your life—that makes his chest ache. he wonders if you’ve ever lost something that mattered. if you’ve ever had to let go of something before you were ready. if you’ve ever held on so tightly and still watched it slip away.

she’s the kind of girl who could have anything she wanted, and yet here she is—choosing to be next to him. it doesn’t make sense. 

but then again, nothing about her ever has.

"you’re staring," she murmurs, not looking away from the sky as her lips twitch up into a barely conceivable smile

jj smirks. "can you blame me? you’re kinda blocking my view."

she scoffs, shoving at his arm. "oh, please—like you care about constellations."

"excuse me," jj says, pressing a hand to his chest like he’s been personally wounded. "i’ll have you know, i am very interested in astrology."

"astronomy."

jj waves a hand dismissively. "whatever."

she rolls her eyes, a smile on her lips as she turns her head to look at him. "okay, stargazer. if you’re such an expert, what’s that one?" she lifts a finger toward the sky, pointing vaguely at a cluster of stars. 

jj squints. "that one?"

"yeah, that one."

he clicks his tongue, nodding with mock seriousness. "that’s… uh, the big spoon."

she snorts first, a hand coming up to quell the noise—because she’s proper before anything else. her index and middle finger press beneath her nose as a laugh escapes anyway, bubbling up her throat, bright and unrestrained. "the big spoon?"

"yeah, you know. It’s like the big dipper, but—"

"but wrong?"

jj grins, pleased with himself as he watches you laugh. it’s a sound he wants to bottle up, to keep tucked away for the days that feel too heavy. the kind of thing that makes his chest feel too small for his ribs, like if he’s not careful, the warmth of it might slip right through the cracks.

the thought makes him shift, stretching his bad hand absently. it still aches sometimes when the weather changes, a dull reminder of a fight that wasn’t worth it. the break healed all wrong, a little crooked, a little off. kind of like him.

she notices. because of course she does. her laughter softens, fading into a quiet hum as her fingers ghost over his forearm, her voice practically blending into the soft whispers of the summer breeze. "does it hurt?" 

jj blinks, thrown off by the question and how she always manages to evoke a sort of delicateness in her every word and movement. "what?"

"your hand," she says, nodding toward it. "you do that thing sometimes—like you're shaking it off."

jj flexes his fingers, rolling his wrist before resting his arm back against his chest. "nah, not really. just a little stiff sometimes."

she hums, unconvinced, but doesn’t push. instead, her lips purse in thought and she watches him like she’s picking apart the things he doesn’t say. 

with a soft click of her tongue and smack of her lips, she finally speaks. "you do that a lot," she murmurs, squirming slightly, letting her back settle against the damp wood once more. "act like things don’t bother you when they do."

jj exhales, tilting his head back against the railing. "can’t complain. had worse."

she rolls onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow. "i don’t get you," she says, an unperceived pout tugging at the corners of her mouth. her voice is quieter now, like she’s speaking more to herself than to him. her eyes skim over his face like she’s trying to piece something together.

jj smirks.—cheeky, easy, practiced. the kind that makes his eyes gleam in the low light. he lets out a breathy laugh. "princess, i don’t even get me."

she huffs out a small laugh, but there’s something softer underneath it. she studies him for a second longer before dropping her head back down, her cheek pressing against his shoulder like it belongs there.

jj doesn’t move.

he hesitates for half a second before wrapping his arm around her, his bad hand resting lightly against her back. it’s instinct to hold her loosely—to leave space, to give himself an out, an uncomfortable mixture of habit and fear. he’s never trusted himself to keep the good things. never let himself believe he deserved to, always afraid of gripping too tight, of hurting what he means to keep.

but then you shift, curling into him like you’re settling in, like you don’t plan on going anywhere. and when you exhale a content little sigh against his collarbone, something shifts in him.

forever doesn’t feel like a death sentence anymore. it doesn’t feel like a weight around his neck, like something waiting to go wrong. it feels like more. 

more time, more moments like this, more of you.

jj swallows. tightens his hold just a little. just enough to know you’re real.

his grip might be loose, but this time—this time—he swears he won’t let go.

𐙚𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚

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