#*dramatically falls to the ground with hand over forehead*

[solxamber]

You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

Part 1 with Housewardens

Trey Clover

The argument wasn’t a loud one—no shouting, no slamming doors—just tense words exchanged with too much weight behind them. Trey’s voice had been steady, but his usual patience was stretched thin.

You, equally frustrated, had decided that the best course of action was to remove yourself before either of you said something you’d regret.

So, with a sigh, you grabbed a blanket and made your way to the couch, settling in with your back turned toward the bedroom.

Trey let out a heavy exhale behind you, but he didn’t stop you.

You shifted, adjusting the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep. It didn’t work. The room was too quiet, too heavy with the remnants of unspoken words. You half-expected Trey to leave you there and go to bed, but then—soft footsteps. A rustle of fabric.

Kneeling beside the couch, Trey placed a hand on the cushion near your arm. His voice was quiet, steady in a way that made something in your chest ache.

“Come back to bed.”

You closed your eyes. “Not yet.”

A pause. Then, a soft sigh. Trey stood. For a moment, you thought he was giving up, finally going to bed without you. The thought left an unexpected hollowness in your chest.

But then, after a few minutes, he returned. You smelled the milk before you saw it—the faint scent of vanilla and honey curling through the air. When you cracked an eye open, there he was, sitting on the floor near the couch, a mug in his hands. He held it out to you.

“Here,” he said. “I know you have trouble sleeping when you’re upset.”

You blinked at him, heart squeezing against your ribs. “Trey…”

He didn’t push, didn’t insist. He just waited, his eyes gentle, patient in the way only he could be.

And just like that, your frustration melted. You took the mug, letting the warmth seep into your fingers. Trey didn’t move, just watched you with that quiet steadiness. Then, softly, he asked again,

“Come back to bed?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate.

You set the mug aside and sat up, only for Trey to immediately wrap his arms around you. His hold was firm, grounding. He buried his face in your shoulder and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him just as tightly. “I’m sorry too.”

Neither of you moved for a long moment, staying there in the quiet. Eventually, Trey pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead.

“C’mon,” he said, voice low, warm. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And this time, when he led you back to bed, you followed without hesitation.

Ruggie Bucchi

The couch wasn’t comfortable. You knew it, and Ruggie knew it. But right now, your stubbornness outweighed your need for a good night’s sleep. You yanked the blanket over yourself, muttering under your breath as you tried to arrange the cushions into something remotely acceptable.

Across the room, Ruggie watched you with wide, calculating eyes. He hadn’t said anything since you stormed off, but you could feel him thinking. And then—

“You remember when you ate my last donut?” he started, voice small.

You froze, narrowing your eyes. “…What?”

“My last donut. You ate it, and you said—” He changed his voice in a mocking impression of you. “‘I owe you one, Ruggie, I swear. Anything you want.’”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Oh my —”

“But it’s fine,” he continued, so dramatically forlorn you almost threw the pillow at him. “I guess I’ll just be all alone in that big, cold bed. No warmth. No love. Just me. Shivering.”

You lifted your head, ready to tell him off, but then—oh, no.

He hit you with the look.

Ears drooping. Tail flicking. Wide, guilt-inducing eyes that shimmered just enough to make your resolve crack.

You exhaled sharply, dropping your head back down. “You’re the worst.”

He didn’t respond. Just fidgeted. Shuffled his feet like he was actually nervous you’d say no.

And that? That got you.

With a groan of defeat, you sighed and opened your arms. That was all he needed. Ruggie practically launched himself onto the couch, slotting himself beside you in a space absolutely not designed for two people. His weight pressed against you, his tail flicking lazily as he tucked his head under your chin.

“…Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your shirt.

“Shut up.”

His arms tightened around you. A quiet beat passed, then—

“Sorry.”

Your hand found its way into his hair, carding through the strands. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

Ruggie hummed, content. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, sleep found you too.

Jade Leech

The couch was lumpy. Or maybe you were just too angry to get comfortable. Either way, you buried your face into the pillow, inhaling deeply through your nose to keep yourself from snapping again. You just needed some space. Needed to not be in the same room as Jade and his infuriating, calmly amused expression.

“I can’t be around you right now,” you had told him before marching off, voice tight with frustration. And for once, he didn’t push. Didn’t smirk or throw another veiled comment your way. He simply inclined his head, watching as you all but collapsed onto the couch.

Now, wrapped in a too-thin blanket, you willed yourself to sleep. You were almost there—drifting, fading—when fingers ghosted over your hair.

Your breath caught, but you kept still.

Soft strokes. Careful, reverent, as if he thought you might break. It was so unlike him, so gentle, that you almost cracked your eyes open to confirm it was really happening. Then—

“…I’m so sorry.”

The whisper was barely there. But it wasn’t the words that made your heart lurch—it was the way his voice shook.

Jade Leech, ever unflappable, sounded unsteady.

He pulled back, and you knew he was about to leave. That should have been fine. You should have let him go.

But your bleeding heart had other plans.

Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could slip away.

He barely had time to react before you yanked him back—maybe a little too hard, because the next thing you knew, he was crashing onto the couch with you. A rare, wide-eyed look of surprise flashed across his face, so fleeting you almost thought you imagined it.

And then you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Jade froze.

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “We can talk in the morning.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slow and deliberate, he dipped down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“…Very well,” he whispered.

His weight settled beside you, and this time, when you drifted off, it was to the sound of his steady breathing, warm and close beside you.

The couch standoff had been going on for way too long.

“I’m sleeping here,” you declared, arms crossed as you planted yourself firmly onto the cushions.

“No, you’re not,” Jamil shot back, equally stubborn. “I am.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not taking the bed while you sleep out here.”

“And I’m not letting you sleep out here while I take the bed.” His arms were crossed now too, mirroring your posture, his sharp gaze unwavering.

For a moment, the tension held. Then, something about the sheer ridiculousness of it all hit you—both of you too annoyed to back down but too caring to let the other suffer the discomfort of the couch.

A laugh bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it. You covered your mouth, but the moment you let out even the smallest chuckle, Jamil’s eyes flickered with reluctant amusement. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.

“This is stupid,” you admitted between giggles.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. It is.”

You grinned. “Bed?”

Jamil didn’t hesitate. “Bed.”

The moment you both settled under the blankets, the last traces of tension melted away. His arms instinctively curled around you, pulling you close, and you let yourself relax into his warmth.

“Sorry,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

His grip tightened, lips brushing against your hair. “Me too.”

Neither of you said anything else. You didn’t need to. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the way he held you just a little closer said enough.

Rook arguing with you was already unexpected. That he let you march off to the couch without a poetic declaration or dramatic plea? Unheard of.

You cocooned yourself in the blanket, stubbornly facing the back of the couch. The silence felt unnatural—too quiet for someone like Rook. A part of you expected him to suddenly recite a Shakespearean sonnet about lovers quarreling.

Instead, something even more ridiculous happened.

You shifted slightly, just enough to glance toward the floor���and there he was.

Laying down right beside the couch on a thin blanket, arms crossed behind his head as though he had chosen the most luxurious sleeping arrangement in the world. His golden hair fanned out on the hardwood floor, and despite the clear insanity of the situation, he looked perfectly content.

You stared. Blinked. “Rook.”

“Oui, mon amour?”

“You’re on the floor.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re going to get sick.”

“Then I shall suffer beautifully, just as you do now, exiled from the comfort of our bed.” His eyes twinkled, completely unrepentant. “If my beloved must endure the cruel fate of sleeping alone, then I shall share in their hardship.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples. “Rook, go to bed.”

“I am in bed.”

“No, you’re on the floor, being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Ah, ma chérie, I am simply a devoted man.”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. It was impossible to stay mad when he was like this. Ridiculous. Completely, helplessly devoted.

Sighing, you reached out and flicked his forehead. He gasped theatrically, touching the spot as though you had struck him with Cupid’s arrow. Before he could say something absurd, you leaned down and kissed the spot gently.

“Come to bed, you idiot.”

His eyes widened slightly before his lips stretched into a dazzling smile. Without hesitation, he stood—and then immediately scooped you into his arms.

“Rook—?!?”

“Ah, mon amour, such sweet mercy! Allow me to carry you away from this exile!” He spun dramatically, pressing an exaggerated kiss to your forehead before striding toward the bedroom.

You should have expected nothing less.

You sighed against his shoulder, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you adore me.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

Lilia Vanrouge

You had firmly decided that you weren’t going to sleep in the same bed as Lilia tonight.

You needed space. You needed time to cool off. You needed—

Blink.

One second, you were wrapped in your blanket on the couch. The next? You were in bed.

You shot up, heart pounding. Lilia stood at the bedside, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Lilia.” Your voice was dangerously even.

“Yes, my dear?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you teleport me?”

A smug smile. “Would you rather I carried you?”

Oh, you were about to start another argument—

But then you noticed something. In his hands: a pillow and his own blanket.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

Lilia hummed, casual as anything. “If my beloved insists on sleeping elsewhere, then I shall take the couch in their place. I have endured far worse in my lifetime—” his eyes twinkled mischievously “—but I’d hate for you to wake up with an aching back.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the mattress. “That’s so unfair.”

“To be this thoughtful and charming? I know.”

You shot him a look, but he simply smiled. You hated how sweet he could be even when you were still irritated.

With an exasperated sigh, you sat up and grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward you. He followed easily, his blanket forgotten as he slipped into bed. Without hesitation, he wrapped himself around you, chin resting atop your head.

His voice softened. “I’m sorry, dear.”

You exhaled, tension leaving your body as you relaxed into his hold. “…I’m sorry too.”

His lips brushed against your temple, and with that, the night’s quarrel was put to rest.

Masterlist

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: In the quiet of the night, wrapped in Joel’s warmth, you finally let yourself feel everything—the weight of the past, the love in his touch, the promise in his arms. 

The night air is cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth beneath the heavy quilt draped over the both of you. Joel is beside you, stretched out on his back, his body bare, loose and relaxed, the way it only ever is in these rare, stolen moments. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, his arm resting lazily across your stomach, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles over your skin.

You shift slightly, turning onto your side to press yourself closer to him, your fingers brushing along the rough edge of his jaw. He tilts his chin down to look at you, a small, satisfied hum vibrating low in his chest as you trace along his collarbone, feeling the warmth of him beneath your palm.

“Comfortable?” you murmur, voice soft, teasing.

His lips quirk up at the corners, eyes half-lidded as he pulls you in tighter, letting out a slow sigh. “Mm. Feels pretty damn close to perfect.”

You smile, fingers absentmindedly following the faint scar that runs along his shoulder. He lets you touch him now. Not just like this, not just when your bodies are tangled together in the dark, but in the daylight, too. When you pass him in the kitchen. When you brush your hand against his as you walk through town. When you sit on the couch after dinner, his hand finding its way to your thigh without a second thought.

These moments—this life you’ve built together—still feel fragile sometimes, like something you could wake up from.

But then he looks at you like this, like you are his world, and you remember that it’s real.

You shift slightly, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, your lips brushing his collarbone.

He hums, amused. “That an accident or you gettin’ greedy?”

You smile against his skin. “Mm. Maybe both.”

Joel chuckles, his fingers tightening on your hip for a moment before relaxing again. “Gotta say, you’re persistent.”

You tilt your head up, grinning. “Oh, I am?”

He smirks, eyes half-lidded, still looking contently wrecked from the last hour. “Yeah, sweetheart. Kinda relentless.”

You huff, shifting onto your side, resting a hand against his chest. “Must be a character flaw.”

Joel exhales a soft laugh, his hand trailing along your back, grounding. “That right?”

“Mhm.” You let your fingers drum idly against his chest, smirking. “Pretty sure I used to piss my dad off all the time with how much I pushed things.”

Joel hums, amused. “That don’t surprise me one bit.”

You laugh, the memory coming back clearer now. “One time, I convinced him to let me drive his truck.”

Joel lifts an eyebrow. “How old?”

You wince dramatically. “Thirteen.”

He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn. You any good?”

“Oh, I was awful.” You grin, resting your chin on his chest as you continue. “I barely made it down the dirt road outside our place before I took a turn too fast and nearly sent both of us into a ditch.”

Joel chuckles, shaking his head. “Christ.”

“My dad slammed the brakes so hard I thought we both got whiplash. He wouldn’t let me near the driver’s seat again for another two years.”

Joel smirks, running a hand down your back. “Guess that explains why you still drive like you got somethin’ to prove.”

You gasp, shoving at his chest playfully. “I do not.”

You feel the laughter vibrate through his chest, the warmth of his skin still lingering from where he’d been pressed against you. It’s easy like this. The whole world fades away, leaving only the quiet, the weight of his arm around you, the safety of his body against yours.

Then—something stirs in the back of your mind. It’s the thought of your dad, stirring something deep from the depths of your memory. The letter.

You inhale softly, shifting against him. “Oh,” you murmur, pulling back slightly. “I almost forgot—”

Joel stills for half a second, then his brow lifts, something curious and cautious flickering across his expression.

“What is it?”

You hold up your finger as you push the blankets back just enough to slide out of bed, your body immediately protesting the loss of warmth. You cross the room to where your backpack still sits near the dresser, kneeling beside it as you dig through the contents.

Your fingers brush over fabric, the grit of the water it was plunged into still clinging to the edges of things, and you frown as you pull out crumpled, water-stained pages of Joel’s letter, carefully unfolding them.

Joel shifts behind you, leaning up onto his elbows, watching you with a lazy sort of interest.

“Stealin’ my mail now?” he teases, voice rough with sleep.

You glance at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t stealing it. I just… forgot to give it back with everything that happened.”

He hums in response, but there’s something else in his expression—a quiet sort of hesitation. Like he’s wondering if you read it. If you know what Bill wrote.

Before you can reassure him, your fingers brush over something else.

Another letter.

Your breath catches.

It’s still unopened, still tucked neatly away. Your name is on the front.

Your chest tightens. Your hands feel unsteady as you pick it up, staring at the familiar handwriting that shouldn’t be here. That you shouldn’t have missed.

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice is lower now, softer.

You swallow hard, blinking down at the paper, your thumb running along the rough edges of it.

You don’t remember packing this. You don’t even remember finding it.

It must have been buried deep in your bag this whole time. Hidden beneath the weight of everything else, waiting.

Joel shifts in bed, moving to sit up fully, his expression shifting from teasing to something more serious. His gaze flickers to the letter in your hands, then back to your face.

His voice is quiet when he asks, “You never…?”

You shake your head, unable to say it out loud, and you move back to the bed, handing him his back and getting under the covers again.

Joel watches you for a long moment, then moves, about to get up, to give you space, but before he can, your arm presses lightly against his.

“Please stay,” you whisper. “Read it with me?”

His expression softens instantly, and without hesitation, he nods.

You crawl back into the bed beside him, settling into the warmth of his side as he pulls the covers over both of you. His hand finds yours, steady and sure, as you unfold the letter together, letting the words of a man who raised you finally reach you.

And as the inked lines blur slightly from where the water warped the page, you take a deep breath and begin to read.

The letter trembles in your hands.

You read it again and again, but the words don’t settle, unsure of where to sit in your broken heart. They tangle together in your chest—grief, love, loss, longing.

Your father’s voice is so clear in your head, like he’s speaking from somewhere just out of reach. I was wrong about a lot of things. Especially about you. I’m proud of you. You don’t have to be alone.

Tears blur the ink on the page, warping the edges, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone. That he left. That all the things he’s saying now, all the things you needed to hear—he never said them when he was alive.

A sharp breath shudders through you, but it gets stuck halfway, trapped beneath the weight of everything.

He was proud of you. He loved you.

But he still left you.

A sound breaks from your chest before you can stop it—somewhere between a sob and a gasp. Your hands tighten around the letter, your shoulders curling inward.

Joel is there in an instant. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t ask questions. He just pulls you in, arms wrapping around you, pressing you into the steady warmth of his body.

That’s when you break completely.

The sobs wrack through you, sudden and overwhelming, years of holding it in, of pushing forward, of pretending you were okay crashing down all at once. You clutch onto him, fisting your hands into his skin, like you need him to hold you together.

“He—he was proud of me,” you gasp against his chest, your breath uneven, broken. “He—he said—”

Joel hushes you gently, his hand smoothing over the back of your head. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick, aching for you. “I know.”

You shake your head against him, your hands gripping at his back. “But—he still left. He still—they still made that choice.”

Joel exhales slowly, his hold on you tighter, firmer. “I know,” he says again, his lips brushing against your temple, his touch grounding, real. “But you weren’t a choice, baby. He loved you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the truth of it too big, too much. You let out another broken sob, burying yourself into him, into the only solid thing you have left.

And he lets you. For what feels like forever, he just holds you—no rushing, no telling you to stop, just letting you fall apart inside the safety of his arms. His hands move up and down your back, his lips pressing against the side of your head, into your hair, whispering nothing but warmth.

Eventually, the sobs fade into slow, hiccuping breaths. Your body is still shaking, but you’re here. The weight is still there, but so is Joel.

You sniffle, rubbing your face against his chest, trying to pull yourself together.

Joel shifts, cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs wiping away the damp trails of tears on your cheeks. He tilts your head up, his eyes soft but so damn fierce, like he’s looking right through you, like he’s trying to make sure you feel every word before he says them.

“I got you,” he murmurs. “You hear me, sweetheart? I got you. You ain’t alone.”

A fresh wave of tears pricks at your eyes, but you nod, because you believe him.

And then he’s kissing you, not on the mouth, but instead, he kisses your forehead first, lingering there like he’s pressing the promise into your skin. Then your temple. Then your cheek. Your nose. Everywhere he can reach, slow and deliberate.

By the time he pulls back, you’re breathless. Shattered in a way that feels less like breaking, and more like being glued back together with every press of his lips.

"I got you," Joel murmurs, his hands cradling your face, his thumbs wiping away the damp trails of tears on your cheeks. He tilts your head up, forcing you to see him, to hear him.

"You hear me, sweetheart?" His voice is steady, unshakable. It’s a vow. "I got you. You ain’t alone. You ain’t ever gonna be alone again."

The weight of it slams into you, a fresh sob breaking loose from your throat. It’s too much. It’s everything you’ve ever needed to hear, everything you’ve spent your whole life pretending you didn’t want.

And it’s Joel. The only man you’ve ever known like this, the only man you’ve ever wanted and needed and craved with every fiber of your being.

Your fingers clutch at his arms, trying to ground yourself, but he’s already anchoring you. His lips continue to press into your skin, everywhere around your face until he places on gentle brush against your lips like he’s memorizing the shape of you, like he needs you to feel it.

When he pulls back, his hands still framing your face, his breath still warm against your lips, he whispers—so soft, so certain:

"I love you."

The End.

Hey, you beautiful, amazing people.

I don’t even know where to start, but thank you. Seriously. From the bottom of my heart: to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, screamed in the tags, sent me messages, or just silently followed along—you made this story so much more than I ever imagined.

Every comment, every reaction, every little freak-out over a scene made my day (and honestly fueled me to keep going). The way you connected with this story, these characters—it means everything. Writing this was one thing, but experiencing it with all of you? That was the best part.

So, to everyone who stuck with me, whether from the beginning or just recently—thank you for being here. Thank you for caring. Thank you for making this so special.

I would love to hear your thoughts! Please comment or message me any of your thoughts— the good the bad the ugly ❤️

I love you all. Truly.

[inupibaldspot]

Wingman ain’t subtle.

Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them

Gojo thinks today is a bad day.

“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.

The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.

“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”

Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”

“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.

Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”

Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?

To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.

Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”

Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.

He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.

Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.

When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.

Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.

The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”

He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.

Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!

The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.

Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.

He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”

“You’re hurt?”

Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.

“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”

“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.

You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”

You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”

He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”

Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”

The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”

You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”

“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”

Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”

Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.

“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”

Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.

Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.

Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”

Check out more of my work here !! <3

[babyleostuff]

── GOING (CRAZY) SEVENTEEN

SYNOPSIS: chan can't help but fall for their new director, no matter how many clauses in the contract prohibit him from doing so

🎵 CLOSE TO YOU - gracie abrams

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, strangers to lovers / idiots to lovers, a whole lot of pining, svt being menaces, attempt at humour 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!chan x fem!gose director!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 4.5k

“you’re going to be the youngest director they’ve ever had.” 

well, that was one way to make you even more nervous. 

you didn’t have to think twice when pledis offered you the job of being a gose director two months ago. of course, you were grateful for all the jobs you’ve managed to get over the past years; they were the ones that helped you kick-start your career and established your name as a pretty well-known director after all, but this - this could be your big break. working for a company as big as pledis, well technically hybe, was a dream come true, and it would look great on your CV.

though you wouldn’t lie - you were scared shitless to meet seventeen. 

they were a big, big group, and if they were as chaotic and loud in real life as they were on camera, then you weren’t sure how you’d survive the next few months. 

especially not with your crush on one of them.

“did you hear we’re getting a new director?” some of the boys raised their heads from where they were laying on the grass, while the rest ignored seungcheol as usual. “she’s going to be here today,” he continued, and flicked hoshi’s forehead to get his attention, “so please be nice, and try to act somewhat normal.”

the boys mumbled something in unison, too tired to talk. as much as they loved shooting gose, doing it after a full day of schedules was a nightmare. they’d much rather be in their beds than laying on the fake grass in a warehouse because it was too late to shoot outside.

“why the hell did they pick a sports concept for today?” seungkwan mumbled with his cheek pressed to the ground. “couldn’t they do like a,” he sighed, “sleeping concept.”

“yeah,” hoshi agreed, his voice just as drowsy as seungkwan’s. “carats would eat that up.”

wonwoo rolled his eyes, and turned his head towards chan so the boys wouldn’t hear him, though they probably wouldn’t have either way considering they were seconds from falling asleep. “if they’ll keep on whining like that i’m literally going to walk out of here,” he groaned, and rubbed his face to wake himself up a bit.

chan couldn’t agree more. he was tired, and hungry, and he was starting to get cold, the loose sleeveless shirt doing nothing to keep him warm, and all he could think about was bed bed bed, so hoshi’s and seungkwan’s whining did not help a single bit.

fifteen minutes later, with half of them asleep, and the rest barely awake, the filming crew started to gather up to set up all of the cameras and microphones, with the rest of the staff placing different props they’d be using all over the warehouse.

chan could feel his eyes drooping for the tenth time in the past few minutes, when he suddenly heard a quiet “uh-oh” over his head. before he could ask a simple „what?”, a sharp pain pierced through his shoulder. 

“i’m so, so sorry. i really didn’t mean to.” 

he exhaled sharply, and put his hand over the small red patch on his skin, that was pulsating from the hit. well, at least he was more awake now. “no worries, my shoulder has been through much worse than getting hit by a… um,” he looked around himself to check what exactly almost crushed his bones, “a medicine ball,” chan let out a strangled laugh. no wonder it felt like a dumbbell fell on his shoulder.  

but then he looked up, and the person standing in front him left him utterly speechless. 

chan wasn’t sure if had fallen asleep or if he was being delusional because of the sleep deprivation, but the girl had to be an angel. in the twenty five years of his life, he had never seen anyone as gorgeous as her, and he was not being dramatic. 

“are you okay?” you asked, and crouched in front of the boy you just managed to almost injure. you said you’d be able to carry all of the medicine balls yourself - clearly that wasn’t true at all.

wait a second… the eyes. the hair. the gorgeously sculpted biceps. you knew him, it was…  no it couldn’t. 

and yet, you found yourself crouching in front of the one and only lee chan. 

you didn’t consider yourself a big fangirl, but you were (obviously) aware of who he was. for some reason whenever you stumbled upon any content of seventeen your eyes were instantly drawn to the short dancer, that despite the lack of height stood out to you the most. and you weren’t going to lie - he was hot as fuck, and he looked so good while danicing that it was almost impossible for you to tear your eyes from him.

and now you almost killed him.

“i’m really, really sorry,” why wasn’t he responding? maybe the ball hit his head after all? what if he was pissed, and they would fire you? “please, say something.”

chan, on the other hand, was completely gone. “god, i must be looking so pathetic right now,” he thought. his band met tens of people on a daily basis - from stylists, interviewers, photographers, makeup artists, stage assistants - whoever you could think of, chan has already met them.

everyone but you.

“um, i’m um,” pull yourself together chan,” i’m cool.”

“i'm cool”?! he wanted to take the medicine ball that just hit his shoulder, and bang his head against it instead, because that had to be the lamest response he could have ever thought of. it wasn’t like the prettiest girl was right in front of him, nope.

“are you sure? do you need me to get someone to check the shoulder for you?”

and now you thought he was being a wuss? oh god, he really screwed up.

“no, no,” chan said quickly, and sat up a bit more straight to look like he had his shit together, when he clearly was not. “i’m fine, really, don’t worry.”

you nodded, though you weren’t sure if you could trust him. his shoulder was still slightly red, but thankfully it didn’t seem like anything was broken. injuring one of the boys would be like the worst way to start your new job. 

„okay, so um,” you pointed in the direction of the cameras, “i have to go.” 

“go?” the words slipped out of chan’s mouth. “loser, loser, loser.”  

“work,” you whispered, your throat suddenly dry. why was the air so stuffy, it was quite perfect just a minute ago. 

„uh, yes, of course,” chan said, matching your breathless tone. 

you took a last, long look at him, and got up to pick up the ball that fell out of your arms.

time to get professional again.

“i’d like you to meet the new director. as you probably know, she is going to be in charge of today’s episode.” 

this had to be the most awkward situation of your life. standing in the middle of a circle of people you barely knew was not an ideal situation, definitely not when it looked like you were about to be sacrificed in a weird kpop idol ritual. also the seventeen boys looked like they’d rather be anywhere else than there, so that in itself made you want to run out of the building. you didn’t know what to do with your hands, or where to look, or if you should say something, and if you should - then what? “what’s up?” “how is everyone doing?” “can you stop staring or i’ll pass out?” 

you figured it couldn’t get any worse than that, if it was officially your humiliation day - then so be it. “hel-,” 

“because we don’t have much time today, let’s just start right away.” 

well, there went your speech. 

you had to be looking like the biggest loser, standing there with a half-opened mouth, and an awkwardly raised hand.

as everyone started to take their places, with the boys gathering in the middle in front of the main camera, your eyes wandered on their own to find the only person that made you feel somewhat comfortable amongst the chaos, which was kind of ironic since you hit him with a ball and exchanged a total of three sentences. unfortunately, you quickly had to push away your thoughts about the boy with dark hair and kind eyes and focus on your work. 

you were sure everyone could hear your heart pounding, as you yelled your first, official “action.”

“dude, why do you keep staring at her like that?” vernon nudged chan’s arm. “you know you look like a total creep, right?” he asked with an amused expression. 

“i’m not staring,” chan said way too quickly for it to be true. his parents were right - he was a terrible liar. 

“uh-hu, sure,” vernon snickered, and shook his head. “then tell me why you’re suddenly so interested in the cameras that you keep gawking that way.” 

chan felt like crying. he was sure he wasn't staring at you that much. right? “i think seungkwan needs a hug, so could you leave me alone?” no one needed to know about his little infatuation with a girl he had just met, and though technically vernon wasn’t the one to walk around spilling people’s secrets, it was still embarrassing. 

“whatever you say,” vernon said, and got back to typing away on his phone. 

the truth was - chan couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. sure, at first the main reason why he paid attention to you was because of how pretty you were, but when the shoot actually started, and you fell into your element - he just couldn’t get over how attractive you looked behind the camera. your face was more often than not covered by the multiple screens from which you monitored the shooting, but from whatever glimpses he could catch - you looked absolutely mesmerising. 

and now he wasn’t talking about your looks, but about your attitude, and confidence, and how you carried yourself. 

“okay, let’s shoot the last scene, and we’re done,” you said, pointing the cameramen to where they should stand to get the perfect shots. 

and again, for what felt like the hundredth time that night, the boys positioned themselves in front of the main camera, with mingyu explaining the rules of the last game. 

“but the twist is, we’re going to have our eyes blindfolded, so we won’t be able to see the football or our opponents,” he said, showing the ball and thirteen blindfolds he was holding in his hand. “we won’t be able to see our teammates either, for that matter,” he added, earning a couple of laughs from the boys. 

after a quick game that you didn’t understand the rules of, they divided themselves into three teams, and started the game. 

for once, everything seemed to go on smoothly, and you figured that nothing would happen if you stepped out from behind the cameras for a moment, and stood aside with the rest of the staff to watch the guys play (or rather fall or bump into each other).

however, there was one thing you didn't see coming. 

somehow, by pure accident, chan managed to get the ball. "guys i have it!" he shouted, and immediately started running in the direction of the goal. or so he thought. 

you couldn't help but laugh quietly. the boy looked so adorably clumsy, kicking that ball like a child who had just learned to walk, and waving his arms as if it would help him with something.

chan, however, overestimated his ability to determine exactly where the goal was, because the moment he kicked the ball to score, everyone suddenly started shouting "stop". 

but it was too late.

he quickly took off the blindfold, and his heart sank when he saw what, or more precisely who, he shot the ball at. “shit,” chan didn't wait for his eyes to adjust to the light, but quickly ran towards you.

“i’m so, so sorry,” he said, looking at your face twisted in pain. “i didn’t mean to, i’m-” 

“i think i heard something similar today,” you laughed, and pressed your hand tighter against the spot where the ball managed to hit you. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you added, seeing chan’s worried expression. 

“not that bad? i hit you right in the forehead!” 

“no need to make me feel even worse about this,” you sighed, sending him an apologetic look. “i think i’ll grow a second head from this hit.” 

chan groaned, and hid his face in his hands. “i’m a fucking idiot.” 

he hadn’t been on that many dates in his life, but he had never acted… like whatever that was. “i really didn’t mean t-,” but then a thought hit him, “oh my god, what if you have a concussion? or if i damaged something inside your head, or-,” 

“chan, i promise, the inside of my head is fine.” 

chan. oh, the way you said his name. he's never been more grateful for someone to call him by his real name rather than his stage name.

“are you sure?” he asked, worry filling his voice. 

“positive.”

“but please, if, god forbid, your head starts aching, go to the hospital, okay?” 

“i will,” you nodded, gently pulling your hand away from your forehead. chan could see a bruise starting to form, and he swore he had never felt that bad in his whole life. “you can say we’re even now,” you added with a small smile. 

now that he was sure you were relatively okay, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and looked around him to gather his messy thoughts, and that's when he noticed everyone, every single person, looking at the both of you. because of this whole mishap, chan forgot that you were literally surrounded by dozens of people who were now watching you like you were in a shitty sitcom. only the boys' looks were too amused for his taste, and now he was sure that they figured out his little crush that he had on you. 

“good job, brother,” mingyu snickered, when chan went back to the boys. “good job.”

“wake up on monday.” → “go for the shoot.” → “cry because i can’t have her.” → “go home.” → “cry even more.” “repeat.” 

that’s how the past couple months looked for chan. every single week he waited for the day when he could finally get on set and see you again. it was honestly heartbreaking how the only thing he was allowed to do was to greet you with a shy “good morning”, and bid you “goodbye”, but if he did anything else it could look suspicious to others, which he could not risk. still, those moments were the best part of his week. 

when the third month had passed since you came into his life, chan began to regret having met you in the first place. what was the point if he couldn't even ask you out for coffee? you were everything he was missing in his life - and he didn't even know you that well. chan couldn't count how many times he spent his time off stalking your social media to find out more about you, to get to know you better, because he couldn't do it any other way. and each time he felt his feelings turn into something more than just a small, innocent crush.

“you look so miserable right now, it’s almost pathetic,” seungkwan said, eyeing chan from head to toe. “can’t you just like go and talk to her? that would put us out of the misery of seeing you look like a kicked puppy.”

“you know i can’t just do that” chan sighed, looking at you with longing in his eyes. 

“why not?”

“because of our contract? we can’t get close with our staff, you know that,” he said, each word piercing his chest. knowing that you were so close, yet so out of reach was really hard. 

“and you’re going to let that stop you?” seungkwan deadpanned. “seriously. you like her. she obviously likes you,” wait, she did? “so please, just talk to her.” 

obviously he didn’t approach you that day. if, with a big emphasis on if, he finally decided to talk to you, he had to be ready so he wouldn’t look like an idiot like last time. though you probably already thought he was a creep (he liked one of your instagram posts from a couple of years ago by accident), so it couldn’t really get any worse than that. 

but seungkwan said you liked him too, right? 

“ugh, why does it have to be so complicated?” 

“chan,” suddenly he felt a featherlight touch of a hand on his shoulder. wow, no one has ever touched him with such gentleness, “could you stand over there?” 

“huh?” he turned around, just to come face-to-face with the person that made herself at home in his thoughts, and would not leave, no matter how hard he tried pushing her away. chan cleared his throat quickly and straightened his shirt. “where do you want me to stand?” good job, that was smooth. 

you pointed to the marker on the floor next to jun. “just for the beginning, then you can obviously, um,” the way he always left you speechless was starting to piss you off. he always knew what to say, and here you were - as awkward as ever. “you can move around later.”

“what should i say now?” chan thought, his brain panicking. this was his chance to finally say something, but as usual he couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t make him look stupid. “why is she always so well-spoken?” 

in the end chan just lowered his head and waddled over to the marker where he was supposed to stand, giving up at making a move. once again. 

two hours later went by, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off with chan. he didn’t joke, he didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh even once, and he didn’t really engage in the discussions with the boys. he was just… there. it was eating you alive that you couldn’t do anything. without his spark he looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept for days, and if it was up to you you’d halt the whole thing, and take chan far away from here because seeing him like this was unbearable. key word - if. 

“let’s take a break, guys!” you said, hoping that no one would question why, but you had to get chan out of there, at least for a minute. “uh, chan?” please, just don’t fire me for this. “could you come over here for a second. i, uh,” you should’ve come up with an excuse before you opened your mouth, “i need to fix your mic.” 

“is something wrong with his mic?” one of the staff chimed in, looking between you and the boy. “i can get it fixed.” 

“no!” you said in unison with chan. you bit your lip to hide the smile that was threatening to bloom on your face, and stole a quick glance at him, taking in the blush dusting his cheeks and neck. 

you cleared your throat, and tried to put on your most indifferent expression - you couldn’t blow your cover now. “no, it’s okay, i’ll do it,” okay, okay, we’re almost there, “but can we go outside for a second, i need some fresh air.” 

chan nodded quickly - way too quickly, and followed you through the set towards the door. 

“don’t stay out for too long, lover boy!” seungkwan yelled, and a couple of boys couldn’t help but burst out laughing. you even saw mingyu falling over seokmin’s lap in silent giggles, his whole body shaking. 

if chan was a blushing mess before, he had to be looking like a tomato, now. “i will kill them,” he promised himself. 

“i’m sorry for them,” he said once you made it outside. it struck chan that it was the first time in months that you were finally alone - not a single soul was breathing down his neck, and no stupid bandmates waited for the opportunity to make fun of him. “they are idiots sometimes,” he said, rubbing his arm nervously. 

“it’s okay,” you mumbled, suddenly very self-conscious. maybe you should’ve just stayed inside? what were you thinking? god, this had to be the epitome of your stupidity. “i guess that’s just their love language,” breath girl, breath, “like bullying, you know?” 

“tell me about it,” he snickered, and shook his head. why were his hands shaking so much? “so um, what about the mic?” 

“the mic?” 

“yeah, the mic,” he laughed softly, pointing at the small device. 

“oh, yeah. the mic.” 

it was now or never. 

“look, everything is fine with the mic i just…,” this was so so stupid. “i just wanted to…,” spit. it. out. “you know what, nevermind.” 

you officially hit rock bottom. now chan would not only think you’re lame but stupid, and a creep, because who drags someone out of a building to “fix” their mic just to tell them that the issue never existed in the first place. plus you couldn’t even get a proper sentence out. 

what you didn't know was that chan's heart was beating like crazy. he'd never seen you so nervous, but god - you looked so cute. the way your eyes shyly met his, how your cheeks were adorned by a faint blush, and how you constantly tucked your hair behind your ear even when there was nothing to tuck anymore. 

so seungkwan was right after all - you liked him as well. 

he had to do it. he had to do it now or he would never do it and he would never forgive himself for it for the rest of his life. maybe all he needed to finally confess his feelings to you was the knowledge that you also treated him as more than just someone from work?

“wait,” chan said, and grabbed your wrist as you took a step towards the door, “i need to tell you something,” he loosened his grip, and lightly ran his thumb over your skin. he saw your eyes wander from your joined hands over to his face, and god - he could get lost in them for eternity. “maybe this will be the biggest mistake of my life but i have to tell you this. i understand if you don't feel the same way as me, but," inhale, "i like you. i really, really like you,” he said and laughed because shit - he finally did it, after so many months. 

for a few seconds, there was a deathly silence between you, interrupted only by the sounds from the set, and chan felt as if time had stood still. sure, he was prepared for the possibility that you didn't feel the same way as him, but please please please. he wasn't sure how he would cope if you rejected him.

“i-i,” you stuttered. was this really happening? or was this all just a cruel dream? but the feel of his skin on yours, his gentle hold, the smell of his cologne, his hair blowing in the wind - it all felt so real. “is this some kind of joke?” you managed to mutter.

the corners of the chan's mouth turned down. "a joke? baby, i've never been more serious about anything as i am now," your breath caught in your throat hearing the pet name coming from him, but it seemed like chan didn't even realise he said it.

"do you have any idea how many nights i spent thinking about you? about what makes you laugh, and what makes you cry? i tried to figure out what your favourite food could be, so i could ask you out and take you to the best restaurant. if you prefer sunrises or sunsets, or if you pour the milk or cereal first, and what are your biggest icks and pet peeves. if this is your definition of a joke, then yes, i’m joking."

at this point chan was ranting, but he didn’t care. he needed you to understand how bad down he was for you, and if he had to make the biggest idiot of himself - then so be it. 

“and if this is all a dream then i hope i’ll never wake up, because i can’t imagine my world without you in it,” he said. 

“are you always this dramatic, lee chan?” you mumbled, looking at him with big eyes. so this was real, after all. the boy you spent the last months pining over was just as crazy about you as you were about him. 

chan breathed a sigh of relief, and shook his head. “when it comes to you? yes. i’ll be as dramatic as i have for you to understand how i feel about you.” 

you blinked, still in denial. “what about the contracts?” you asked, and reached out to push back a couple of loose strands of hair from his forehead. 

chan could feel his heart bursting as you slid your hand down from his forehead to cup his cheek, and he immediately nuzzled closer to your touch.“i don’t know, and i don’t care,” he twisted his head to place a gentle peck on your palm, “i don’t want to spend another second on thinking about what it’d feel like to be next to you.” 

one year later…  

“i still can’t believe you made bets on my relationship,” chan groaned, as he plopped beside you on the couch, but before he could make himself comfortable you were already snuggled into his side with an arm draped over his middle. 

“it was the only way for us to have some fun. you both looked so lovesick it was honestly disgusting,” seungkwan pretended to gag, which earned him a kick in his shin from your boyfriend, and a couple of laughs from the rest of the boys.  

“still, you guys are stupid.” 

“not more than you moping around for months,” wonwoo sighed. “talking about a slow burn,” mingyu added. 

“well at least i’ve got a girlfriend,” chan kissed your temple, and cuddled you closer, “and the closest thing to a relationship you have is with your dumbbell.” 

mingyu put his hand over his heart. “ouch,” he said, and wiped a non-existent tear from his cheek. 

it's been a whole year and the guys still loved to joke around about your slow burn of a relationship, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. each day with chan was a blessing, even the boys became such a big part of your life to the point where you couldn’t imagine it without the whole thirteen of them. 

lee chan was like a last missing puzzle piece that you were searching for to become whole. he was your best friend, your rock, your safe place that you’d search for in every crowd. 

“i love you,” you muttered into his neck quietly, so only he could hear. chan’s grip tightened around you for a second. “i love you too. so much.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl@uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot@iamawkwardandshy@icyminghao@heeseungthel0ml@goyangiiwonu@bath1lda@ruurooozz@ny0sang@luuxian

[onlyangel4]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos and always teasing her about her height but only him could do it. No one else was allowed. Thanks!! :))

little one. toto wolff.

toto wolff x author wife!reader

in which you are five foot tall and toto finds it the cutest thing ever or a few moments with toto based on your height.

warnings- cursing. fluff. smut. size kink. unprotected sex in a very established relationship. fingering.

author's note: i know this request was meant to be cute and full of fluff but i may have gotten a little carried away. please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better! i write written fic and smaus for most of the grid and a handful of associated people.

"papa she is doing that thing again", jack spoke. your son had seen you pulling a chair over to the kitchen cabinets and knew exactly what you were about to do. something that your husband had made clear he did not like you doing.so jack had made a beeline to toto's home office to go and get his father so that he could deal with it and help you.

"okay son, i've got it from here", toto spoke a slight smirk on his lips. toto made his way through the house and to the kitchen where he found you on a chair that you had dragged next to the cabinet. "schatz", he tutted softly making your head whip round to look at him, "what have i told you about doing that"

"well i wanted biscuits and you put them at the top to hide them from jack and i couldn't reach them. and you are busy so i didn't want to bother you", you spoke still standing on the chair. "issue is i still can't reach them, they are right at the back", you spoke a pout now on your lips making your husband laugh.

"i'll get them but first get down", toto spoke his arms wrapping around your waist and effortlessly moving you from the chair and onto the ground. he then reached up and easily found the biscuits placing them in your awaiting hands.

"you need to stop doing that, you could fall and break your neck"

"don't be dramatic toto", you spoke shaking your head at your husband. he approached you his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you into him so he could place a kiss on your forehead. "i just worry schatz"

"i know but not all of us are blessed with being six foot five", you laughed softly.

"i will get people to lower the cupboards if it makes you stop climbing on the counter like a cat little one", he laughed softly.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

deep down toto loved the height difference between you both you were so small so delicate especially contrasting against toto's hulking figure. it was so obvious a fairy and her giant.

toto was completly captivated by it and there were sometimes where toto could not help himself.

this particular time toto had come home from work to find walking around the house in just one of his white button up shirts with only your favourite white lace thong underneath it. you had been icing cupcakes that jack had helped you make before your parents had come to pick him up for the weekend. you had icing sugar dashed across your forehead, hair pulled up into the messiest ponytail to keep it away from your eyes.

toto cleared his throat alerting you to his presence. your face turned to look at him, "evening love", you chirped looking at him, "the kitchen is a bit of a state jack wanted to make cupcakes before going to see my mama but we didn't have enough time to ice them", you spoke but from toto's gaze you could tell that he was looking at you but not listening, "you alright love, what are you thinking?"

"that i should burn all of your clothes so you have to wear mine all the time", it was so matter of fact, a bold statement from your husband. once that made you blush. you moved to approach him, your arms tugging at his collar so he would bend down to kiss you. which he did. but usually these kisses after work were an innocent greeting but this one was anything but. there was heat behind the movement of toto's mouth. he was putting his all into the kiss, his hands moved to your waist large hands gripping handfuls of your ass. as he pulled away from the kiss he looked down at you, "i need you now little one. is anything in the oven?", he spoke not wanting to cause a fire in the house. when you shook your head that was the green light that he needed to pick you up by your waist and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

toto quickly walked you both to the bedroom, once inside he pressed your back against the wall and allowed his lips to run up and down your neck nibbling and biting at it, glad that you were currently in the middle of writing a book so you had no public appearances, meaning that he could leave all the marks he wanted to on your skin. he kissed from your neck back up to your ear, "I am going to fuck you in my shirt schatz", he whispered huskily in your ear. his eyes were blown with lust as he moved to throw you down onto the bed, this manhandling making a wetness form between your legs.

you loved being reminded of your husband's strength and simple acts like this were the perfect examples of this. you laid back on the bed watching as your husband moved to hover over you, "you look so pretty in my shirt little one. it swamps you and you look so perfect. makes me want to fuck you just so you know how much i love you."

"i know how much you love me toto"

"sh just let me show you", he whispered as his hands moved to bunch the shirt up at your waist revealing your clothed pussy to him, "isn't she pretty", he cooed as he pulled the flimsy white lace down your legs discarding it on the floor. toto placed a kiss on the inside of each of your thighs before he moved his thumb to your sensitive clit. he began to rub circles on your clit relishing in each moan that tumbled from your lips and the way that your hands fisted the bed sheets.

"let those moans out little one, i want to hear them", he spoke before pushing one finger into your pussy, thrusting it at a steady pace. "fuck, you are so fucking tight princess, such a good girl taking it for me", he praised.

"toto", you whined, this was the warning that your orgasm was near, so he began to use more pressure on your clit as he fingered you and soon enough that wave of pleasure came crashing down on you soundtracked by a moan of his name leaving your lips.

toto was feral by this point, all he wanted was to be inside of you, and you knew it. so you moved your hands down to the belt holding his slacks up and unbuckled it. he then helped you pull his trousers down. he was rock hard. "i can't wait to be inside of you my love", he spoke softly before kissing you again, full of love and passion.

toto tapped your clit with his cock before he pushed inside of you, an all to familiar groan falling from his lips as he did so. you were so tight, fucking you after all of these years still felt like that day he took your virginity. it was such a perfect feeling to be so deeply connected with his wife.

toto set a steady pace with his hips, he still had his shirt on and you were still wearing that button down that made him go feral. you were so desperate for him that you did not care that you were still fully clothed. "that's my girl. taking me so good", you growled in your ear as his hips pistoned against you. your back arched the feeling of pleasure washing over your body. getting to be intimate like this with the man that you loved was such a blissful feeling, it left your mind reeling.

toto bit down on your neck hoping to leave a pretty little mark there and that was the point where you lost all control, "toto", you moaned softly, "i'm so close"

"i know schatje, i know", he whispered softly in your ear, "come with me darling"

and with that your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks a loud moan falling from your bitten lips, that was all toto needed to push him over the edge and he found himself emptying inside of you.

"such a good girl", he praised, "you always take me so well", he spoke as he pulled out peppering kisses along your neck as he did so before he pulled you into his arms letting his body protect yours.

you both laid there incredibly content and so unbelievably in love.

[florencemtrash]

Heads Will Roll | Azriel x Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Violence (aka Reader kills some fae and Rhysand and Azriel are 100% cool with it), fluff

One of Koschei's followers turns up to the Court of Nightmares prepared to make a bargain: your life in exchange for Ataraxia. But he'll soon learn that you are not to be underestimated, and you are always exactly where you want to be.

Azriel bristled from behind Feyre’s shoulder when the male winnowed into the Court of Nightmares in a dramatic display of power that had everyone beneath the dais falling back.

He was all sharp lines, emboldened by the pure black silhouette of his cape that flared out behind him, teasingly parting to reveal the bone white sword strapped to his right hip that seemed to whisper with horrible power. The only piece of him that didn’t look like it was cut from death and destruction were his bright blue eyes - startlingly innocent and all the more unnerving for it. He fit in well with the violence the Court of Nightmares naturally radiated. 

Rhysand’s eyebrow curled up in a look of carefully crafted boredom from atop his obsidian throne. The only one who looked more nonchalant than him was Feyre. She tilted her head up, staring down the slant of her nose to the unknown male as he extended his arms and bowed as prettily as a bird. 

“Greetings.” Even his voice was sharp and cutting. “To the Lord and Lady.” 

Cassian frowned from behind Rhysand’s back at the omission of their proper title. To the outside, Rhysand was anything if not bored. Inside, he was ready to blow the male to bits. He wore Koschei’s stamp on his forehead, red and dripping like a fresh wound.

Neither the High Lord nor the High Lady deigned to reply.

The male only smiled. All teeth. 

“I come to you on behalf of my master.” His smile grew. More teeth. “You may have heard his name.” 

“Koschei.” The name rolled off Feyre’s lips as easily as if she were ordering a meal - blasé and unimportant. But the name shifted the energy in the room, stirring up hornet's nests of gossip. Heads bowed towards one another like grass stalks in the wind, whispering.

Feyre tapped one finger on her forehead, “He has a fondness for marking his followers.”

“Like a collar on a dog.” Rhysand finished. He stroked the bond, grounded by the feeling of Feyre’s very soul on the other side. She had always been - and always would be - his calm.

“My name is Darwynn.” The male tipped his white head, “And I bring news from my master. News you may find worthy of your time.” 

Azriel’s heart picked up in his chest. 

He knew what was coming - the words that would soon slip out of Darwynn’s mouth. You’d been gone for over a week and he felt your absence from his side as intensely as if someone had ripped the wings from his back. Empty, cold, and unbalanced.

For the first three days he hadn’t worried, even as the bond lay dormant in his chest. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hunt after secrets, unraveling mysteries like threads in a coat or diving into the unknown with an insatiable appetite.

Three days were nothing. But nine days was getting to be concerning.

“Go on.” Feyre said with a wave of her hand, looking more interested in the glass of wine in her hand than anything else. 

Darwynn reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin string of silver stained with blood - a necklace crafted from unbreakable metal with a deep blue pendant swaying like a pendulum. It was a piece of one of Azriel’s siphons, imbued with a small measure of his power and given to you as a Solstice gift after you’d accepted the bond. In the twenty years you’d been together, you’d never once taken it off. It was unnatural to see it swinging in the cruel male's hands.

Cassian growled. Azriel’s jaw clenched, beautiful brows lifting only ever so slightly in surprise. It was the only expression the Shadowsinger had shown all night.

Rhysand mirrored his expression. “Ahhhh yes, my sister. How long has she been missing for now, Az?” Rhysand looked back at him, some unspoken agreement passing through that brief glance. If this male had truly captured you, he would not be leaving this room with his head still on his shoulders.

“Nine days.” The Shadowsinger said, his mouth twitching to the side in a cryptic mix of a smirk and a snarl.

“You have her.” Feyre said. It wasn’t a question.

Darwynn’s eyes lit up with glee and he nodded, clapping his hands together like a child opening birthday presents.

“And what do you want for her? That is why you are here, is it not?” Feyre said once his “applause” ended.

Darwynn shook his finger at her, “It is comforting to know that since Amarantha’s trials, you’ve learned to - how shall I say this? Read between the lines.” 

“Careful.” Rhysand said, a warning trapped within that honey-laced word. Feyre’s illiteracy was hardly a concern for anyone anymore - Rhysand had seen to that - but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a subject that smarted and burned when prodded. 

Feyre’s dark red lips only turned up in a small smirk. Her mate would not allow any harm to befall her - even insults from pathetic creatures such as Darwynn.

"But I digress." Darwynn said silkily, “You should know she is uninjured-” 

“Obviously,” Cassian huffed under his breath, stealing a glance at his brother beside him. Azriel was handling this surprisingly well. If it were Nesta who’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, Cassian would not be able to school his emotions so readily. 

“And my master would like to make a trade.”

“A trade?” Rhysand said, displaying more interest in the subject than ever before. This was an opportunity to play Koschei’s hand. To gain whatever knowledge they could from the slippery sorcerer who was gaining more momentum each passing day. Koschei was still confined to his lake on the continent, but that didn’t mean he was powerless. No, not at all. 

Darwynn pointed a knowing finger at Rhysand’s belt where Ataraxia rested as silent as the death that hung over a deep winter’s night. 

“I see.” Rhysand said. 

So that’s what he wants. Feyre spoke to him through the bond, Some trace of Nesta’s power.

Y/n was right. He wants to leave the lake.

And he needs whatever power Nesta took from the Cauldron to do it.

Rhys hummed in thought, one finger lazily tracing the edge of his drink. He knew his sister, knew the power that raced through her veins, and she was not one to be trifled with. But people loved to underestimate her - the poor second child too weak and damaged to fight after losing her wings to the old High Lord of Spring. The female who rested on her brother’s strength and crown like a sapling tied to a stake. She wielded those assumptions carefully. It was perhaps one of her greatest weapons. 

Nine days. She’d been gone for nine days. Nine days since he’d sent her on a mission to the continent to spy on Koschei’s followers. Six days since anyone had heard from her. Three days since her scheduled return. 

Azriel stiffened and blinked - a movement so subtle that only Rhys, Cass, and Feyre noticed. All at once the tension left Rhysand's shoulders. Such a reaction from Az could only mean one thing - you'd arrived.

Rhysand clicked his tongue disapprovingly, taking a deep draught of his wine and muttered, “She’s late.” 

“She likes to be thorough.��� Azriel said with the smallest of smiles.

“Even so. I don’t like to be kept waiting. She could’ve been captured sooner. Escaped earlier. Given us notice that she was coming.” He shook his raven black hair.

Azriel smirked, feeling the strength of the bond in his chest. Never wavering, “Maybe she finally decided to adopt your flair for the dramatic.” His golden hazel eyes flickered upward for the briefest of moments and you flashed him a quick smile from where you hid in the mountain rock above.

You’d only just opened your side of the bond, love and reassurance rolling over him like a flood. You were safe. You were whole. And you had carried out your plan beautifully.

Sorry to keep you waiting, my love. I had business to attend to. You spoke to your mate and only him.

I'd wait forever for you. You know that.

He felt your laughter through the bond like the fresh rain.

Who would've guessed the Spymaster's such a romantic.

Only for you. Only for you.

Darwynn narrowed his eyes, lips flattening into a thin line as pale as the moon. Something had changed in the air and he couldn't put his finger on it. This wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. He knew the Inner Circle were practiced in hiding their emotions but this… they almost looked pleased. Cassian especially was grinning like a madman, suppressing his laughter as Rhysand sent his thoughts to his mind.

“My master keeps good on his promises. But until you give me the bade, I can’t promise you what pieces of your wife there will be left to bring back.” Darwynn snarled, even as that feeling of dread grew in his stomach. He’d walked in here so confident. He needed to regain that confidence. He relaxed his shoulders. Stood up taller.

A wet thud echoed throughout the hall. Someone screamed - a female with blue-gray skin reeled backward, one hand clamped over her mouth in horror as she tripped over her blood-splattered silks. 

A decapitated head - warm, oozing, and less than a day old - lolled on the floor. Its eyes were frozen in a look of surprised horror. 

Darwynn’s heart stuttered to a stop when he recognized the bloated and bruised face. The face of one of his strongest males, left behind on the continent to watch over Koschei’s prison. 

Rhysand smirked and raised his wine glass towards Darwynn. The High Lord’s power flooded out over the room, knitting together a powerful web of magic that made it impossible for anyone to winnow in or out. Except for you of course - his darling sister who never failed to find the weak points in his magic and slip through as slyly as a cat. 

“There’s something you should know about my dear sister.” Rhysand’s voice boomed over the near-silent room without even trying.

A second head dropped from the ceiling. Then a third. Then a fourth. Laid out in a neat little arc around Darwynn.

“She never gets caught. She is always precisely where she wants to be.” 

Azriel’s eyes were trained on the slate gray arches overheard where he could just barely make out your form as you winnowed around the room, hiding in the shadows and dropping your gruesome packages in a neat circle around Darwynn’s shaking form.

The male unsheathed his sword, spinning around madly and counting every thud until all twelve of your guards were accounted for. 

All dead. 

All of them.

He growled dangerously, eyes beginning to glow a brilliant, icy blue as he aimed his power at the dais, right towards Rhysand. Azriel smiled with cruel satisfaction when you slipped out from behind Darwynn’s silhouette, bloodied and menacing. The knife glinted in the faelight, catching the curve of your arm as you spun around and drove the weapon through Darwynn’s eye. The light wrapping around him fizzled out into anything.

The male rocked on his feet, arms going slack and dropping the sword with a clatter on the ground. His legs gave out soon after, his body crumpling in on itself as easily as paper. 

You calmly rolled down the sleeves of your blood-soaked shirt, flicking a piece of gore off your shoulder in a manner so similar to Rhysand that your brother couldn't help but chuckle. 

You flashed him a grin - a stroke of white brushed across a red splattered canvas. 

“Brother.” You said, tipping your chin up in a show of greeting. 

“A bit dramatic, don’t you think, sister?” Rhysand gestured out to the Court of Nightmares. You spared them a look. Everyone looked positively sinful in their scraps of silk and exposed skin, silent and trembling as their dinners burned their way up from their stomachs to their throats.

You shrugged and winked at Rhys, “I learned from the best.” 

“Go get cleaned up.” He said. It was a clear and direct command, but you didn’t miss the warmth and hint of pride in his voice.

“As my High Lord commands.” You said, bowing deeply. 

At home. Rhysand spoke in your mind as you straightened. Get some rest. You did well.

You sighed in relief, happy that you would be free from whatever Court of Nightmare business left to attend to.

Thank you.

There was a brief pause before Rhysand continued, But next time you plan to get kidnapped, let me know. I was actually starting to worry and I’m not sure my old heart can take it.

You snorted, I’ll keep your elderly constitution in mind next time.

You dipped your head once more before winnowing to the River House. The smell of home nearly knocked you off your feet.

There would be more time to joke around with your brother - more time to tell him everything you’d learned - but right now you were in desperate need of a bath.

______________

You sank into your third bath of the night, groaning in pleasure as the hot water rolled over your aching muscles. The first two baths had purely functioned to scrub off the dried blood from your hair and skin. The majority of it wasn’t yours. But this bath, with all the fragrant oils and scents, was for enjoyment and relaxation.

It was no easy business getting kidnapped, and no easy business escaping. But like every other mission, you’d made away like a bandit in the night, carrying with you priceless pieces of knowledge and enough secrets to demolish an entire court. 

Your eyes flickered open at the feeling of shadows lacing around your arms, soothing your skin with a cool touch that was no replacement for the hands that followed. 

Finally your mate had decided to join you.

You sighed in happiness as Azriel trailed his fingers up your arms, scarred hands landing at your neck and gently tilting your head back so he could plant a firm kiss on your lips.

The bond sang within your chest more joyfully than a songbird. You didn’t like silencing this connection, you didn’t like shutting Azriel out, but sometimes your work necessitated it. It was for your safety as much as his. But no one understood that more than the Spymaster of the Night Court.

“Hello, my love.” Azriel’s voice vibrated through the air, warming your chest and shaking your bones. 

“Hello, Azriel.” You murmured, soapy hands trailing through his raven black hair so that he was completely surrounded by your scent.

“Gods, I missed you.” He said. He knelt on the tiled floor behind you, wrapping his arms around your bare chest as he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. “I missed you so much." A kiss on your neck, "So, so much.”

“I missed you too.” You murmured, pulling him around to the side of the tub so that you could see him better. You traced the faint purple bruises beneath his eyes. Not an unfamiliar sight. Azriel had never been a restful sleeper, but since mating and marrying you, he’d been spoiled rotten and now could barely sleep a wink without you curled up in his arms. 

“Sorry I messed up your hair.” You apologized, twirling the now damp strands of his hair so they curled around your fingers. 

He smiled. It was a rare sight to anyone other than you, but seeing him happy never ceased to warm your bones.

“You did well, darling.” He said, smoothing back your hair before saying more seriously, “But next time could you tell me your plans before you shut me out?” 

You winced. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time.”

“I figured as much.” Azriel said, kissing your cheeks to show that he wasn’t upset. You leaned into his touch as he traced your cheekbones with his thumbs. 

You were the most precious thing in the world to him. More precious than his wings. More precious than his freedom. More precious than the 500 hundred years it had taken him to finally realize what you were to him. The thought of losing you was more painful than a knife to the stomach.

“You can trust me.” You said, “I know how to handle myself.” 

Azriel chuckled and shook his head, “I am very well aware of both those things,” He tilted his head in thought, “And I’m fairly certain everyone else also knows now.” 

You blushed, “Maybe it was a bit much.” 

Azriel shrugged, “Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is one thing.”

“And what is this one thing?” You asked, leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like cedar and rain. He tasted like home.

“That you should never be afraid of showing your power. Never. No matter what happens. No matter what people say.” 

His hand that had been cradling the back of your neck moved down, tracing the scars on your shoulder blades where your wings had once been. You shivered under his touch, but didn’t recoil. He understood. He was perhaps the only person who understood what it meant to have such a physical piece of yourself taken away. 

You kissed his hands, taking care to feel every valley beneath your lips and worship them. They were a part of him now, tied to him as much as his shadows were, and so how could you not love them? How could you not love him? This male who was your equal in every way imaginable and who made you feel happier and safer than you ever thought possible. 

He helped you out of the bathtub, drying your skin and hair before carefully brushing through all the tangles and knots. 

“I should go report to Rhys.” You said with little determination as Azriel laid you out on the bed and then crawled under the covers beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both under the protective cover of his wings.

“Let it wait until tomorrow. Let me have you tonight.” 

You smiled, “I’ve only been gone nine days.” 

His hazel eyes melted into yours. “Nine days too long, Y/n.” 

You could never deny him anything when he looked at you like that, so full of feeling and a rawness too intense for words. And it wasn’t like you were dying to leave this bed and chase after your brother. Like Azriel had said - it could wait until tomorrow. So you melted into his arms and watched as Azriel slowly fell into a deep sleep for the first time in nine days.

______________

Author's note:

A woman covered in the blood of her enemies is *chef's kisses*

That's it. That's the note.

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ stars align. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff and angst

୨ৎ note: Ironically listened to ‘she calls me back’ by noah kahan while writing this, don’t be fooled babe. also listen to i love you, keep that in mind!!! if you catch the astronomy by conan references yes you did. i love you all and you're very welcome in advance <333 not proofread

୨ৎ taglist: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes (ask or comment to be added)

three times you called billie, and one she didn’t pick up. 

you called billie a lot. she was away on tour, so naturally, whenever both of you had a free minute, you’d be calling. if she wasn’t free, you’d be sending her videos and voice messages and photos of whatever you did in your day. at first, sending her a photo of the flowers growing on the footpath on your walk to work had seemed stupid to you, but it started a train of endless photos of mundane things that either of you found beautiful. it was a way of keeping each other up to date on your lives—other than just selfies. it was as if you were there, eating her breakfast with her and watching finneas while he recited a dramatic reenactment of his dream the night before. 

currently, it was nine in the evening in your time zone, and you had shark’s head resting on your chest. with the limited mobility you had with the dog on top of you, you reached for your phone and clicked on billie’s contact. you clicked on the call button, you wanted to facetime her so she could see both her babies.

it didn’t take long for her to pick up, and as soon as her camera had loaded, you saw an extreme close up of her eyes and the tour makeup she was halfway through taking off. “love!” she beamed, propping the camera up on the desk so she didn’t have to hold it. you tilted the camera down to show shark, and she practically squealed. “baby! oh my god, my baby shark.” she pouted as she took in how he had his head resting on your chest and his eyes half open. “that should be me?” 

you giggled, “with me or shark?” 

“both,” billie said as she continued taking off her makeup, you could hear the smile in her voice. “i should be sandwiched in the middle of you.” 

you hummed in agreement, hugging shark closer to him and kissing his forehead before scrunching your nose up. “he stinks.” 

billie rolled her eyes, “you’re so rude to him.” 

a scoff left your lips, “oh please, you’ve said exactly the same thing.”

“he’s my child, so that’s different.”

“actually, he’s my child too. and i think i’m his new favourite.” 

billie gasped with faux horror, “oh, keep lying to yourself.” 

you called billie whenever anything went wrong, when you didn’t know what to do, when you felt like your life was closing in on you. you were sitting on the ground beside your bed, your eyes staring blankly at the wall in front of you as your fingers fiddled together anxiously. you didn’t quite know what you were feeling, nor why you were feeling it, but you were overwhelmed and miserable. nothing seemed to be able to help except for the songs playing through your headphones that magically put everything you felt into words. 

you weren’t sure when the tears had started falling down your cheeks, but they were there. you could feel the cold salty trails down your skin, and you didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. the moonlight was casting a soft light over your room, dancing across your skin in a way that you would have perhaps thought was pretty had you been more aware of your surroundings. 

instead, you were aware of the pounding of your head and the racing of your thoughts, the feeling of your clothes against your skin, and the emptiness inside your head. you felt a level of numbness you hadn’t felt since you were seventeen, and you weren’t sure if anything would fix it. 

But then you thought of your girlfriend. billie. 

somehow, she always knew how to make things better. 

so, with shaky hands, you reached for your phone which had sat discarded on the floor next to you. it was only charged to eleven percent, but that was enough for you to call her. 

you tapped on her contact, calling her. she picked up in record time, her comforting voice filling your ears. “baby? it’s two am, you alright?” 

“mhm.” you hummed. you’d be content to simply sit there and listen to her voice for hours, but you knew you’d have to actually speak at some point—you were the one who’d called, after all. after a long moment, you sighed. “can you come over?” 

“yeah, of course. i’ll be there in ten. want me to stay on the call?”

and you did, but you knew your phone would die and you didn’t have the energy to find the charger, “no, it’s okay.” 

“okay, angel. hold in there, yeah?”

“yeah.”

you called billie whenever anything important happened in your life, such as getting accepted into your new job. you’d quit your old job a few months ago—it just hadn’t felt right. you weren’t happy working there, your boss was an asshole, and with the time and effort you put into it, you were atrociously underpaid. you talked to billie about it, and she assured you that quitting it would be the best. your happiness was both of your priorities, so it wasn’t long after that conversation that you quit. 

getting a new job had been harder than you’d thought—not necessarily because of your qualifications, more because you weren’t sure what would make you truly happy. it took some time, but eventually you found one that you felt would make your inner child giggle and kick her feet. 

you had applied, and then there was nothing left to do but wait. 

wait, and wait, and wait. 

it was hell. you got an interview, and after that, it was more waiting. you didn’t know what to do with yourself, an anxious feeling always sitting at the pit of your stomach. 

after what felt like months of waiting—but was more likely just a week and a half—you got the email. you read one line, and almost screamed, dropping your phone on your foot. 

once you picked your phone up again, you fumbled with it desperately for a moment, shaky hands navigating to billie’s contact. it rang for about thirty seconds before she picked up—upon second thoughts, you realised that she may have been in a meeting, but she always told you to just call her. 

“hi, my love-” billie’s sweet voice came through the phone, and you couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your lips. 

“i got the job.” 

billie squealed, “oh my god, baby! i knew you would, i’m so proud of you!”

an excited giggle fell from your lips, “i was so nervous-”

“but that’s okay, you did it.” 

“couldn’t have done it without you.”

“oh shut up, yes you could. take some credit, darling.”

you opened your mouth to speak again, but she continued. 

“we’re going on a date tonight. to celebrate. our restaurant, yeah?” 

you giggled again, unable to stop the happiness radiating from you, “yeah.” 

“perfect. i’ll book it now-”

you interrupted her before she could continue, “i love you.”

you could hear the smile in her voice when she responded, “i love you too.” 

billie was always the first person you thought of to call. even slumped against the wall drunk in a hallway at a loud, bustling party, she was the one who your fingers gravitated to in your contacts. your vision was slightly blurred, your mind unfocused, but somehow you knew to call her. maybe your brain had drifted to the other calls, maybe it was just a feeling. 

either way, that feeling was wrong. 

the phone rang twice before going straight to her voicemail. “hey, this is billie. leave a message. love you!”

you frowned, your head falling back against the wall behind you. why did the 'love you' feel so bittersweet?

“hey, bils. i miss you. a lot. call me back?” 

you didn’t know why you knew she wouldn’t. she wouldn’t call you back, she wouldn’t text you, she certainly wouldn’t be picking you up from this hell of a party. 

in fact, it was likely that you and billie would never call again. 

it was then that you remembered: billie wasn’t yours to call, and she hadn’t been in a long time. 

billie wasn’t your person any more, the two of you had fallen apart and she was no longer your shoulder to cry on, your partner in crime, your bird of a feather. she was no longer the one who could make you laugh louder than anybody else. she was no longer the person who would pick you up when you were drunk off your face and laugh at the way you slurred your words before falling asleep at your side. 

billie didn’t pick up, and it would be unfair to expect her to. 

maybe you needed to stop trying to force the stars to align when she had already found a new one, and that love burned brighter than yours ever could.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 (𝐫𝐮𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 1)

𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: it’s your little girls first time experiencing snow and charles couldn’t be more excited to share that with her and with you

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: non super fluffy!!

𝐀/𝐍: HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASON!!!! omg i’m so excited for this christmas celebratory little fanfic party time!! i love christmas and what better way to start it off than dad! charles 🥰🥰

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Lyla Marie Pascale Leclerc was quite honestly the cutest little five month, almost six month old in the whole world, and of course as her mother and father you both weren’t being biased at all.

She was a late summer baby so when the holiday season began to come around Charles couldn’t help but become more excited at the fact that his little angel would be experiencing her first snow. Not to mention her first Christmas and you’ll admit you’d been getting in the spirit and looking forward to it, but Charles, well he took it to another level

“Lyla, regarde maman mon ange…” (lyla, look at mommy my angel)

You stood in front of Lyla, your phone out as she sat in the snow, her hands hitting the ground as she squealed happily

“Are you enjoying the snow baby girl?”

Honestly her squeals could cure anyone’s sadness, especially as she looked up at her father, Charles melting as she reached up at him

“Is it cold? You ready for papa to carry you around again?”

“She noticed you weren’t busy enough, you’re back to carrying duties my love”

Charles smiled, picking her up off the ground before coming over to you so he could place a kiss to your lips, Lyla whining as you got the attention she wanted

“Oh was maman stealing papa’s kisses? I’m sorry little love” you cooed softly kissing her forehead, effectively returning the smile to her face, that only amplified as Charles pressed kisses around her face

“Maman is all left out now..”

At the sound of the slight drop in your voice, your little girl looked at you her lips forming into a pout before she reached for you, your eyes softening as you took her and kissed her cheek

“Aw je t’aime tellement mon petit amour, merci bébé” (aw i love you so much my little love, thank you baby )

Charles was more than happy to watch the two of you cuddle up together, there was nothing more he loved than spending time with his girls, and now having the winter break, he had all the time in the world to spend with you two before heading back to pre season testing in February.

While you continued walking throughout the park, Charles picked up some snow and molded it into a snowball, bringing it over and holding it out to Lyla, causing more happy squeals to come from her

“This is a snowball princess…you throw it anywhere you want, here try it”

The little girl looked at her father as she took the snowball, obvious confusion in her eyes before she threw it, the best a five month old can, landing straight on Charles’s chest, his mouth dropping in faux shock

“Well done my love!! You got papa!” you laughed, causing Lyla to follow through, her laughs only getting louder when Charles dramatically fell to ground, snow continuing to fall around him

After a few seconds of squirming you put Lyla down and let her crawl over to her dad, letting her climb onto him and hit his chest, babbling softly until he grabbed her gently and lifted her into the air, more laughter spilling around him as you joined them in the snow.

The same spot where Charles once made you fall in a snowstorm 5 years ago on this same day, the day that changed your lives forever and brought two perfect people together, and now you had a daughter to share the love with.

The same spot that love once flourished is the same spot that love still grows…even in the snow…

[chrissturnsfav]

fuckgirl!reader flirting with loser!matt, but she’s drunk so he’s just acting all nonchalant abt it

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 loser!matt babysits drunk fuckgirl!reader

the bass thumps in your chest, the music a relentless pulse that matches the dizzying swirl of the room. everything’s fuzzy—lights blurring into streaks, voices overlapping into a symphony of noise. you don’t remember how many drinks you’ve had, but it’s definitely more than you should’ve.

and then there’s matt. sweet, awkward matt.

"matt," you whine over the music that echoes in your ears, drawing out his name, your hand reaching for his sleeve. your fingers barely graze the fabric before you lose balance, tumbling halfway into his lap.

he catches you, because of course he does, his reflexes sharper than you’d expect. "careful," he says, voice dry but not unkind.

"i am careful," you insist, dragging yourself up and planting one hand on his chest for stability. it’s a nice chest—solid under your palm. "you’re just in my way."

"can we go upstairs?" you say feigning sweetness with a crooked smirk, your breath warm against his neck.

"nah." he leans back and manspreads on the couch, cool as ever, like he’s immune to your charms. it’s sickening.

"why not?" you pout, tugging at his arm. your dress rides up as you move, not that you care—matt’s the only one looking, and isn’t that the point?

"because you’re drunk kid," he says simply, tilting his head like he’s assessing whether you’re about to topple over again.

"so?" you challenge, a teasing grin spreading across your face. "you’re supposed to take care of me, aren’t you? that’s what guys do at parties, right? fuck pretty girls?"

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go when you wrap your arms around his neck. "m'not fucking you kid," he snickers.

you groan, a little too loud, and press your forehead against his. "you’re no fun, matt. chris would fuck me. he would probably die for the chance."

"yeah, but i’m not chris," he says, gently disentangling your arms from his neck.

"clearly," you mutter, falling back onto the couch in a dramatic heap. you look up at him, your eyes hooded and pleading. "don’t you think i’m pretty, though?"

he snorts, shaking his head. "nice try."

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you demand, half-offended, half-sickened by how unaffected he is.

"it means you’re wasted, and you’re not gonna trick me into saying something stupid," he says, leaning down to pull a blanket off the back of the couch. he drapes it over your legs, ignoring your protests.

"you’re boring," you declare, crossing your arms with a drunken frown.

"and you’re a fucking mess," he counters, his smirk softening into something almost fond. "but don’t worry. i’ve got you."

his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect—soft and steady, but somehow leaving a mark. it makes your chest tighten, your thighs hot, and your stomach flip.

you know he’s just being responsible matt, always the boring one, always the one making sure things don’t spiral out of control. but the way his eyes linger on yours, the hint of warmth behind the teasing, makes you need him even more.

you grab his hand, holding onto it like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. "matt," you say again, but this time it’s quieter, your voice dipping into something softer, almost vulnerable.

"what now?" he asks, half-laughing, though his hand doesn’t pull away.

"just one little kiss, at least. please?" you say, your voice dropping into something softer, more pleading.

he laughs, shaking his head like you’re ridiculous. "not happening."

"you're the fucking worst," you whine, ripping your hand from his and sinking into the couch again.

"sleep it off kid," he says, his voice softer now. "you’ll thank me later."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: the way i literally was writing this without even seeing this anon! i was abt to publish it and then checked my inbox and i was like :o that's perfect. so i copy and pasted the draft here.

thank you for reading! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott

@chrissturnsfav ™

[medullamindset]

HUMPING LORIS IDK

Somnophilia, slight pain kink?(biting), reader is described to have hair and a vagina, no pronouns used.

Summary: grinding on Loris' bulge early in the morning, he asks u wat time it is. It's early, luv.. lemme get off :) Biting, bites him. <3 <3 <3

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Loris stirs as he feels a weight on top of him. It shifts, soft digits smoothing over his lean shoulders, scratching at his skin just right.

He knits his brows together in confusion, drowsily trying to open his eyes that are glued shut with sleep. He feels another sort of pressure further down, moving back and forth firmly over his clothed groin,.. Now hes awake, he scrunches his face together when the morning sun shines brightly in his face. He turns his head to the right and is met by a familiar scent tickling his nostrils, your shampoo.

"Y/n..?" He grunts, a big hand landing on your hip, gentle yet firm at the same time.. Wondering wtf is happening, but urging you to keep going..

"Mm?" You hum sweetly, a slight crack in your voice, unused til now. It vibrates against his neck. short, hot breaths settling under his skin.

"What time is it..?" He groans, half there, half not. The hand on your hip squeezing tenderly, fondling your flesh outta pure habit. You hum against his jawline, this time in pleasure.

"7:30. Its still early, Love.. Jus' couldn't wait for you t' wake up.." You mumble, Loris squints an eye open and is met with the sight of your unruly hair as you nuzzle right under his mandible. still grinding against his now, very prominent bulge, your arm snaking around his shoulder and behind his neck, hugging him closer as you let out a hoarse whine. He smiles adoringly, letting out a huff, a low groan rumbling in his chest, but not quite being heard due to the lack of use.

"M'kay.." He hums almost inaudibly, his free hand moving up to touch your hair, playing with the very tips as he lets out a shaky breath of his own, starting to feel really fuckin good as his senses crawl back to him.

You continue grinding up and down Loris' length, pitchy whines spinning in his head, tingling like a lullaby in his ears, a lullaby thats only for him, that only he can wind up.

The protuding veins running up and down Loris' cock creates the perfect friction for your clit through the soaked fabric. Your forehead thumps against his shoulder as you drag out a shy, pathetic mewl, the motion of your tired hips now growing more staggered the closer you get to orgasm.

Loris notices your struggle and bucks his hips into yours, groaning right into your ear. You whimper and scratch at the short hair at the nape of his neck, your cheek presses against his collarbone as you space out on his addams apple bobbing, whining below each breath. Your eyebrows knit together as Loris grabs your hip firmer and bucks against you again, quickly matching your erratic rythmn.

Your jaw falls open and is followed by a labored gasp. "Mmn-..Loris- baby 'M gunna.. Ah." You babble, earning a breathy chuckle from your lover in earnest. He holds you tighter, humping you harder as he feels his own climax approaching, focusing on making you cum first. Your eyes nearly roll back from the harshness of his thrusts. You turn your head, needing a way to ground yourself, you bite down right at the base of his neck.. Hard, but not hard enough to draw blood. Loris groans almost as pathetically as you, voice still gravelly with sleep. You whimper into his flesh, hips still moving in an odd, desparate pattern, clit catching on a very prominent vein every time. The repeated motion eventually sends you skyrocketing to orgasm, it's nothing dramatic.. Your body tenses up as you pant, you hold your breath as your legs shake and smomach flexes. Loris can feel your teeth imprinting on his skin, wet tongue peeking out to soothe the irritated flesh. The combination of the pain from the bite and your slippery tongue tips him over the edge, his head rolls back with a filthy groan as he cums, thick, white liquid shooting straight through the fabric of his briefs and pooling at the waistband, right below his stomach. He bucks up into you desparately, drawing out both your orgasm til you tremble above him with overstimulation. His pattern grows staggered and uneven as you both twitch and shake, movement slowly coming to a halt.

you kiss at the bitemark you gave him, feeling the divots as you lick over it again. "Sorry, baby." You mumble, smiling into his skin, your tone suggesting otherwise. He grins, letting out a huff of air before grabbing your jaw and making you look up at him, the hand that was previously on your hip is now gliding up and down your back, fingertips dancing across your skin ever so slightly. Loris smiles at you fondly, "sure." He says lowly, before kissing your chin, then your lips, squished together into a pout by his huge hand.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Is this anything???!? Feedback is appreciated, im sorta new to writing 👃

[starhvney]

𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: blaze, garroth, gene, laurance

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your friend group has a certain game they like to play at your co-ed sleepovers–one that was exhilarating and full of tension. naturally, what’s a girl to do but use her wits and charm to win over the heart of the boy she’s playing with? and what if he’s the one pulling the strings all along?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: teens being teens, fluff and flirtyness, kissing and cooties! it’s implied that they’re dating the reader or at least have mutual crushes

𝐂𝐖: use of fake knives and nerf guns lol

𝐀/𝐍: erm..umm…hehe? bites lip

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“hey blaze, wanna go see something cool?” you ask suddenly, tilting your head and batting your eyelashes up at the tall werewolf.

he purses his lips, black ears twitching against his dark red curls. a suspicious hum leaves his lips for a moment as the rest of the group warily watches on.

“okay!” he goofily smiles, shrugging and following after you towards the house’s basement door.

“blaze… don’t fall for it.”

“but she’s such a trustworthy person!” he protests against the group’s warnings, beginning to follow you down the dim staircase.

you hold back a snort at his enthusiastic voice, wondering if he was playing up on his usual airheaded tendencies or if he really thought you weren’t going to kill him off from the game down here.

“the basement, definitely super romantic and cool and not suspicious at all!”

he definitely knew. you giggle as you make it to the end of the staircase, standing at the bottom as you awkwardly try to think of what you want to “show him” besides the plastic knife in your pocket.

“your laugh is usually cute, but when it’s so mischievous and in a dark basement it’s kind of creepy,” he shivers, backing up towards the stairs again. “actually… i just remembered i need to do something!”

“wait! you said i’m cute, right?” you snatch onto his flannel, dragging him back towards you—or rather dragging yourself towards his much heavier and unmoving body.

“yeah…”

“um… wanna… make out?”

“yeah!” he switches back to his himbo cheerfulness, very eagerly leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

you indulge him for a moment, before your puckered lips spread into an evil smile and you’re pressing the plastic knife into his abs. a disappointed sigh leaves his lips as he dramatically sinks down to the floor to play dead.

“not cool, you’re gonna leave me in the spooky basement?” he pouts, his fluffy tail laying flat on the ground.

“you’ll be fine,” you giggle, pressing one last kiss to his forehead and happily skipping up the stairs to finish the round. “see you later!”

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞!

“where is everyone…?” you trail, feeling uneasy as you look for all of the friends you were separated from. 

your search is interrupted when you hear footsteps rapidly approaching you across the grass of the backyard. 

despite knowing this was a silly game with friends, turning to see a six foot three beast of a werewolf sprinting at you with a plastic knife in hand was still a terrifying visual. you couldn’t help the terrified yelp that left your lips as you sprinted away from him, knowing your efforts were futile.

you’re caught up to within barely a few seconds, strong arms nearly crushing you as he scoops you up. a squeal leaves your lips as you cling onto his shirt, feeling your feet leave the ground.

“wait! wait!” you screech, heart racing as you catch your breath.

“nuh-uh,” he laughs.

you groan when you feel the knife firmly placed against your back, limply dangling in blaze’s arms.

“caught you.”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

your arms boldly slink around garroth’s shoulders as you lean onto him from behind where he sat, your face snuggling up to the side of his cheek.

automatically he tenses up, eyelids narrowing as his vision darts over to you from the side of his eye. he mutters your name suspiciously, but one of his hands comes up to softly grab onto one of your arms.

“hey, garroth,” you whisper into his ear, holding back the amused giggle that fights to escape your lips. “i was just wishing a tall, hot blonde guy would go into the closet to make out with me…”

garroth sighs, his ears turning a bright red where your breath ghosted along the skin.

“you said that last time, and i died.”

you can tell he’s trying to make his voice monotonous and unimpressed, but the amused intonation at the end of his sentence tells another story. your chest presses against his back, and the breathy, mischievous laughter that exhales from your lungs shakes the both of you.

“no, i’m for real this time!”

“oh yeah, that sounds perfect,” he sarcastically quips back. “i’ll go with the girl trying to seduce me into the closet with no witnesses.”

“garroth… would i ever betray you in such a way?”

“you just did a couple rounds ago.”

“yeahhh,” you drawl out, placing a kiss on his cheek as you quickly place the knife over his heart and press down. “sorry.”

he sighs, slumping forward on the table to play dead.

“so cruel and heartless,” he jokingly pouts, and you have to restrain yourself from placing another kiss on his jutted lower lip.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞!

“garroth, i’m sorry. why don’t we hug it out?” you suggest, arms spread wide as you look up at the blonde expectantly.

he rolls his eyes, leaning down and tightly wrapping his arms around you. after a moment you pay his back, expecting to be let go, but realization hits you as it’s his turn to giggle at you. 

the light rumbling of his laughter vibrates against you, before you feel the plastic knife pressing right up against the small of your back.

you groan, going limp in his arms and leaning your head back as you sigh in light hearted annoyance.

“wowwww, okay.”

he continues to laugh, leaning over and letting you slink down to the floor before gently letting you rest on the ground.

“sorry,” he smiles, looking the least bit sorry before leaning down and placing a kiss against your lips.

“i’m so gonna haunt you.”

“i wouldn’t mind a pretty ghost following me around,” he smiles back, before getting back up and running off to finish his job.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“gene, wanna go make out?” you casually ask, smiling at the older boy cheekily and attempting to ignore the attractive look he stares back at you with.

his head falls back and he rolls his eyes, smirk plastered on his lips as he sighs in contemplation from where he sat.

“see, how am i supposed to refuse when you ask like that, though?”

“like what?” you tilt your head innocently, lacing your hands behind your back.

he pointedly stares at you through hooded eyes, before stretching up from his seat and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“alright, where are we going to make out?”

you shrug and guide him out of the house, passing a few people as you go.

“where are you two going?”

“to make out, apparently.”

“don’t tell me you’re falling for that.”

“it’ll be fine,” gene drawls, waving his hand as the two of you exit the house. “i have a feeling on how this is gonna end, but i’ll take my chances.”

“well, whoever’s the cop—be ready when she comes back alone,” you hear someone say as the door shuts behind you. 

you only take a few steps before turning around, pointing the knife at him with a small innocent smile on your face.

“damn, not even gonna give me a small chance at a kiss before you kill me?”

“so sorry,” you apologize emptily, the cheeky smile on your lips leaving when he leans forward into the knife, grabbing your face and devouring your lips for a moment with his own.

you blink at him in shock as he pretends to cough in pain, keeping forward into the ground and rolling onto his back to play dead.

“it’s alright, you will be later,” he smirks back, laying flat on the ground and staring up at the stars.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐩. 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

finally! you found where your friends had been all round… only to see that they were all sprawled out on the floor, motionless. you take a cautious step into the room, slowly turning your head to the tall form standing in your peripheral.

you hear a few snickers from the ground as you and gene stare at each other, with your hands on your hips.

“well, it’s just us, huh?”

“yep.”

you don’t have enough time or a chance to pull out the gun, instead having to run away down the hall and through the back doors as he suddenly sprints after you.

“nooo! nonono, gene!” you call out, fumbling for the gun in your pocket as you run through the grass.

“why are you running?” he asks, the amused smile on his lips heard through his voice without even having to glance back. “don’t run from me.”

you point the gun back, shooting and missing the boy entirely, wasting your last bullet. one more stride and he catches up to you, knocking the gun out of your hand and restraining you against him with one arm in a single swoop. 

“wait! don’t!” you frantically scramble as he presses the knife up against your chest. “i will… um!”

“mhmmm…” he tauntingly hums, letting you continue.

“…go out? …with you?”

you whine as he presses the knife down against your chest, slumping over as he hunches over and slowly lets you down to the ground. deep laughter leaves his lips as he looks down at your pout, hands on his knees in amusement. 

“sorry, that’s not a good deal if you already do that, doll.”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“laurance, follow me,” you tug on his shirt, backing up as you try to lure him out of the room.

“i’m not falling for that, silly girl,” he leans down towards you, smirk plastered on his face. “where’s everyone else you walked off with, then. hm?”

“falling for what?” you follow him as he starts backing away from you and towards the door. “i just love you so much. i wanna show you!”

“uh-huh, right,” he nods, before turning and taking off outside into the cool night air.

“laurance! wait, let me show you!” you laugh hysterically. “i wanna show you how much i love you!”

“get away!” he laughs, using his soccer skills to dodge and run away from you in the grass.

you manage to catch him, jumping onto his back and using the momentum to tackle the both of you down to the soft grass. your legs straddle his torso as you both catch your breath, chests panting for air.

“now it’s just us…” you trail, dragging your index finger across his lower lip. 

you pull on it before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, simultaneously plunging the fake knife against his chest.

“that was both terrifying and hot at the same time,” he breathes with a smug grin.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐩. 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

“come on, you don’t trust me?” laurance tilts his head, pouting as you indecisively point your gun back and forth between him and katelyn—the rest of your friends laid out on the ground. “ouch, that hurts.”

katelyn stares at you with a deadpan expression. her and laurance have their arms raised in the air in surrender, leaving you as the one to make the game-settling decision.

“um…”

“don’t let him woo you, you’re better than this—“

“she went off with aphmau alone and now aphmau is dead!” laurance insists, leaning forward towards you. “it’s obviously her, be smart. you’re smart.”

“um… i’m sorry katelyn!” you apologize, sending a bullet out toward katelyn’s stomach.

she laughs with a groan as she sinks to the ground. you come to the realization that you, in fact, made the wrong decision when nobody else gets up, leaving you and laurance at a standstill.

“…i’m out of bullets.”

“you better run…” someone mutters with a snort on the ground.

strings of shouts and scared curses leave your lips as you take off down the hallway, searching for any bullets to use now that you’ve cornered yourself at one end of the house.

“oh no!” you yelp, socks sliding as you land against a wall, laurance’s hands trapping you in before you can scramble anywhere else.

“hey,” he jokingly bites his lip, staring at you with faux seduction.

you sigh dramatically. “just kill me.”

he giggles, stabbing you with the knife before placing a kiss against your cheek.

“hey, it’s not your fault my charm works so well—“

“shut up.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[hoe4hotchner]

Backgammon | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader CW: Fluff.

WC: 0.4k

@ssaaaronmontgomery Tagging you cause we talked about this fic earlier 😉

           It was a quiet evening at home, the kind where no pain or case could end it, just for a little while. You sat cross-legged on the living room floor, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the backgammon board between you and Aaron. The warmth of the room made everything feel peaceful, this was your little pocket of calm amidst the usual chaos of Aaron's job.

           Aaron was focused, as he always was - his brow slightly furrowed as he studied the board. He made his move with a calculated accuracy, sliding his piece across the triangles. You couldn't help but smile at how seriously he took it, even in moments like these.              “Your move,” he said, looking up at you with that soft smile of his you only got to see.

             You grabbed the dice, shaking them in your hands dramatically just to see him roll his eyes, but you caught the hint of amusement in his expression as you whispered a wish to the dice of what number you wanted them to land on.

           “You always do that,” he said, a chuckle in his voice.              “Well, I like to build suspense.” You grinned, tossing the dice onto the board. They clattered across the surface, landing on a six and a four. You moved your pieces, biting your lip as you carefully plotted your next move.              Aaron was watching you with patience, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He loved these little moments of competition between the two of you, even if it was something as simple as a quick game of Backgammon whenever your lives permitted you the chance. It gave him a chance to ground himself.              “You’re going down, Hotchner,” you teased, making your final move with a flourish.              He raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting as he challenged you. “Oh, really? We’ll see about that.”              As the game went on, you found yourself leaning in closer, caught up in the friendly competition. Eventually, he made his final move, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And that’s game.”              You groaned, falling back dramatically onto the floor. “I was so close!”              Aaron leaned over, hovering above you with a teasing smile. “You’ll get me next time,” he said, his voice was warm and affectionate. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you couldn’t help but smile, even in defeat wrapping your arms around his torso to steady you as you pulled yourself up.              “We’ll see,” you muttered, already plotting your revenge for the next game.

[nochukoo97]

nevertheless;

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

summary: jungkook has a hard time showing how much he really does care for you, but at the same time you can’t help but convince yourself your best friend will never love you back the same way you do, or will he?

word count: 5k+

teaser

“Stay here,” You command Jungkook, who’s currently pouting a little too dramatically as he sulks on the bench.

“Don’t move,” You look back, giving him a stern gaze as you make your way to get the first aid kit near the soccer field.

Jungkook had been roughhousing with his teammates, they had been play-wrestling on the soccer field for a good half an hour, not before someone actually got hurt.

And that someone was your best friend, Jeon Jungkook.

So now you have the duty to patch up the guy, who had been insisting his bleeding cut would magically heal on its own.

You refuse to leave it untreated.

When you jog back to where Jungkook was waiting, you spot him crouched near the patch of grass, a few steps away from the bench you had instructed him to sit on.

“Yah! Are you a puppy or something? I told you to sit still!” You scold him, and he quickly whips his head around and frowns,

“I only took like three steps away! I swear I sat there for really long, just got distracted,” He’s whining, sitting back on the bench as he gives you those innocent puppy eyes.

It’s on purpose, to make you stop nagging at him.

“Don’t trick me into not scolding you,” You flick his forehead gently, “What if you fell and hurt yourself again, huh?”

Jungkook scoffs, “Yah, I’m not that fragile, in fact, it’ll probably be you who would be falling,”

He crosses his arms, looking away from you.

“Okay, then fix yourself up,” You shove the first aid kit into his crossed arms, forcing him to quickly catch it before it falls onto the ground.

Jungkook settles the box next to him before dramatically clutching his cheek.

“Ahh” He hisses, eyebrows furrowing as he touches the bleeding cut on his cheek.

“Yah! Don’t touch it! You’ll get it infected! Aish-” You sigh, swatting his hand away as he looks back up at you with those eyes again.

“Fine, fine,” You shake your head at the boy looking up at you, “Stay still,”

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face the whole time you clean up his cut, even when the alcohol stung his cut, causing him to hiss and grab onto your smaller hand, his eyes never left your pretty face.

He notices the glow on your face from the spot light above the soccer field, your lips slightly pink from the tinted lip balm you bought when the both of you went to the mall. Your eyelashes look more curled than usual, maybe you used the curler you had bought when you dragged him into the makeup store.

Your eyes are focused on repairing the cut on his face, Jungkook stares right into them in a daze.

“Okay, done,” You whisper to yourself, turning to scan his face, but Jungkook has love struck eyes as he stares back at you.

“Kook,” Your voice snaps him out of his daze.

“Yeah?”

“You’re done,” You pat his shoulder, getting him to stand up.

“Thanks, ___” He smiles sweetly at you, making your heart thump in your chest.

He’s your best friend, you shouldn’t be feeling this way.

Jungkook stands up, his stance now towering over you, as he walks towards the grass patch.

You watch as he bends down, picking up something from the grass and hiding it behind his back as he walks back to you.

“Here’s my thank you gift,” Jungkook grins at you, revealing what he was hiding, a bunch of small flowers that he had plucked while you went to get the first aid kit.

“Oh? Thanks Koo,” You smile, taking the flowers from him.

Jungkook ruffles your hair, before bidding goodbye, telling you to not go home too late.

You stare at the flowers in your hand as you clutch your poor heart, beating way too fast.

Maybe you have a chance with him.

-

You should definitely not be eavesdropping on this conversation right now, but you can’t help yourself, after all, your name coming from Jungkook’s voice caught your attention.

“Yah, so do you like her?” There’s an unrecognisable voice in a hushed whisper, probably one of Jungkook’s friends

“Nah, she’s my friend,”

Ouch, that fucking hurt.

You could’ve gone about your day not knowing this, yet you’re somewhat happy that you did, or else you would still have the slightest glimpse of hope that he would even like you.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You and Jungkook had made plans to go over to his house today, something you two often did on a weekly basis. Yet with what you heard just now, you seriously did not feel like getting your heart played again.

jungkook: we’re watching that kdrama i told you about later kay

You read his text, before looking up, locking eyes with him from where he was sitting, all the way at the other end of the classroom.

Shit, don’t fall for his antics.

You look back down at your phone, replying:

you: okay

You quickly lock your phone and shove it into your bag before your professor can catch you.

The phone now in your bag vibrates again, Jungkook’s looking at you expectedly, waiting for a reply. Instead, you ignore the buzzing, looking straight at the board filled with math equations.

When the class ends, Jungkook immediately rushes to your table, as the classroom clears, the rest of the students all rushing out to go home.

“Yah, why didn’t you answer my text,” He drags the chair near your table and sits nexts to you, but you don’t even spare him a glance, shrugging as you focus on packing up your stuff.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jungkook frowns, noticing a change in your mood, you obviously were dejected about something, but he simply couldn’t piece it together.

You don’t respond to that, you don’t know what your answer is to that question. Technically he didn’t do anything wrong, he had a choice in his feelings towards you, but he also was the reason why you felt this way.

“I think I’m gonna go home, sorry,” You whisper, not daring to look at him.

“What? Why? Did I make you mad? Or is it Junghyeon?” He’s panicking, you can tell, you feel bad for making him feel as if he had done something wrong, even though he had technically done nothing wrong.

You frown at the name mentioned.

Junghyeon was your ex boyfriend, he had been nasty to you throughout the relationship, and Jungkook had been the one to help you out of it. He had been the one to open your eyes and realise what a shit boyfriend Junghyeon was. Even up to now Jungkook will defend you if Junghyeon talks shit and spreads rumours about you.

Another reason to feel bad for treating Jungkook so differently all of a sudden. Just because of what you heard while eavesdropping. You had no reason to treat him this way, yet it fucking hurt your heart everytime he gave you butterflies, when in your head you’re telling yourself, he doesn’t like you like that.

“It’s nothing Kook, just, I’m gonna head back,” You sigh, swinging your bag over your shoulder, as Jungkook stands up with you, holding your arm.

“Let go,” You struggle against his hold, but he doesn’t let you leave.

“Not until you tell me why you’re being like that,” He shakes his head, eyes filled with concern and panic, he doesn’t know what happened, not a single clue.

“It’s nothing Kook, just let me go,” You almost sneer at him, before running out of the classroom.

Jungkook can only stand there in confusion, his heart aches slightly, but he refuses to give up.

-

“Jeon, come with us to eat lunch,” He looks up after a moment of silence, realises Mingyu was standing at the entrance, waiting for his reply.

“Nah I’ll pass-“

“Come on Jeon, you haven’t hung out with me for a really long time,” Mingyu wraps his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder, dragging the dejected boy out of the classroom.

Jungkook would much rather be with you right now, finding out what made you so cold all of a sudden, to reconcile whatever happened to make you mad, to cuddle and hug you, to comfort you and hear you laugh and smile again.

Instead, he’s stuck with Mingyu sitting next to him, as Mingyu’s friends shamelessly flirt with him.

He’s frankly sick and tired of having to attend to these girls who he had zero interest in.

Sure they weren’t ugly, but their personalities weren’t the prettiest either.

“So, Jungkookie,” The girl sitting opposite him coos, he frowns at the nickname, he doesn’t even remember her fucking name.

“Do you like girls with short hair or long hair?” She flicks her hair, both girls flirting with him having kind of short hair, shoulder length and a little longer.

“Long hair,” He replies with a monotonous voice, staring blankly at them.

“Oh,”

Jungkook wants to let out a laugh, but he holds himself back.

-

You’re laying on your bed, sulking and tearing up. You don’t even know why you’re crying over this stupid thing. You didn’t even get rejected, but you did get rejected indirectly by hearing what Jungkook had said to the unknown person.

You open up your phone, going on Instagram in hopes to distract yourself from breaking down, but the first story that you open up just has to be Mirae’s instagram, with a picture of Jungkook and Mingyu on the story.

He’s out with Mirae. He’s not looking at her camera though, both him and Mingyu busy on his phone showing each other something.

But she’s sitting opposite him, it’s practically a date.

Jungkook’s on a date with Mirae, the girl who clearly had a huge crush on him, you concluded.

Great, great fucking great.

You sigh, closing your eyes as tears escape the corners of your eyes.

-

The next time you wake up, your vision is slightly groggy, as you sit up and rub your eyes, stretching.

The smell of noodles waft into your nose, shit, did you leave the stove on or something?

As you walk out of the room, you halt in your steps.

You recognise the man who has his back faced towards you, cooking in your kitchen, in your apartment.

It’s Jungkook.

“___?” Jungkook calls out, tilting to try to see if you were standing in the hallway.

You quickly run back into the room, shutting the door behind you and climbing back into bed.

What was he doing here?

You should have never given him the password to your apartment.

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest. You can’t fucking hide from him anymore because he’s in your house, why must he play with your heart so much?

When the door to your room creaks open, you quickly duck below your blanket, in a pathetic attempt to make it seem as if you were sleeping.

“___, come on, I heard you in the hallway,” You hear Jungkook’s voice, slightly muffled from you hiding under the covers. You hear him set something down, the smell of noodles stronger than before.

He doesn’t let the small flowers placed on your desk go unnoticed. You kept the flowers he gave you.

Even though it’s childish, you refuse to answer him.

Jungkook pulls down the blanket to reveal your messy hair, the back of your head facing him. You attempt to pull the blanket back up but he’s too strong.

“Come on, don’t be mad at me,” Jungkook tries to convince you to come out of the blanket, but you stubbornly refuse.

He reaches out to card his fingers through your messy hair, but you move away from his touch, whining when his fingers get stuck halfway through a knot.

“Oww,” You’re whining, clutching the area as Jungkook shushes you.

“At least sit up, I’ll help you get rid of it,” He’s really trying everything to get you to talk to him, he will sit here and keep trying forever until you give in.

“No,” Your voice wobbles, eyes watering with frustration. Why was he here, you’re going to get your heart shattered into a million pieces all over again.

“Why’re you being so difficult, hmm?” Jungkook sighs, sitting back and leaving you to curl up into a ball.

“Go away,” You tried to sound angry, but with the tears slowly running down your cheeks, there’s a sob that comes uncontrollably right after.

“Hey, why are you crying?” Jungkook’s face is now full of concern, he manages to untangle you from the blankets, as you struggle against his hold.

“Shh, it’s okay, don’t push me away, my body still hurts from that day,”

Jungkook has your head buried into his chest, you want to punch him, but when he reminds you of that day, when you had gently patched him up, you don’t dare to struggle against him anymore.

You can feel his hand rubbing up and down against your back as you clutch onto his shirt. You can smell his cologne, the one the both of you had picked when you went on a school vacation.

“If you don’t wanna tell me what’s wrong right now that’s okay, just let me take care of you ‘kay?”

You weakly nod, mentally cursing at yourself for foolishly giving up fighting against him.

Jungkook pulls you out of his lap, settling you in between the pillows on your bed and pulling the blanket to cover your body as you sit, waiting for his next move.

He grabs the bowl of noodles placed on your bedside table, picking up a few strands with the chopsticks and blowing on it gently.

Jungkook brings the chopsticks near your mouth, but you keep your mouth shut, refusing to give in to him again.

“I know you didn’t eat dinner, quickly eat now or else you’d have acid reflux like the last time,” You cringe internally remembering how you were hunched over the toilet crying, as he held your hair back, shushing your sobs.

You comply in the end, opening your mouth and letting Jungkook feed you.

“Good girl,” He whispers, using his thumb to swipe away the drop of soup at the corner of your mouth.

Fuck, he’s making you go crazy. Good girl? Does he want you to go insane?

You gulp down the noodles, looking up at him as you make eye contact. Jungkook scans your face, wiping the tear threatening to fall further down your cheek.

“Don’t cry already, come on, let’s put on the show while you eat,”

He reaches for the remote on the other side of the bed, his body hovering over yours for a few seconds before he’s back next to you, eyes trained onto the TV and switching to the mentioned show.

You both watch the show as he slowly feeds you the noodles. You want to tell him it tastes amazing, that you want to kiss him for pampering you despite having treated him so coldly before. You simply just let yourself be taken care of by Jungkook, already anticipating getting your heart broken again when he leaves.

When you finish the bowl of noodles, Jungkook slots himself next to you under the covers, pulling you so that your head was now resting against his chest, both of you watching the show playing on the TV in front of your bed.

You aren’t sure if Jungkook can hear your heart going crazy in your chest but you sure can.

You shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be cuddling with your best friend who clearly doesn’t like you.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?” He looks down at you, pausing the show.

“Is this what friends do?”

Jungkook frowns at you, leaning back to look at you properly.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t be cuddling and all this, we clearly aren’t a couple or anything, and you don’t like me like that, so we shouldn’t-“

Before you can continue, Jungkook’s lips are crashing down on you.

What?

He pulls back, looking straight into your eyes,

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” Your eyes are widened, you haven’t even fully processed what just happened

“Why did you say that? Who said I didn’t like you?” He frowns at you, as if he did not just kiss you in the midst of you talking

Now you’re even more confused, “Don’t lie to me Kook, you don’t have to pretend that you like me just because I do,”

You curse under your breath for letting the last part slip out.

“I’m serious ___, why would you think I don’t?” Jungkook’s shocked, firstly at you admitting you like him back, but more importantly, the fact that you had the audacity to even believe he wasn’t crazy for you.

“I heard you talking to someone and you told them you didn’t like me,”

Jungkook sighs, grabbing your hands in his, “____, of course I wouldn’t tell Yongjae that, I barely know him,”

You slip your hands out of his,

“I think you like Mirae,” You scoff at him

“What?” He’s genuinely confused, the name not being familiar to him

You whip out your phone, showing him the instagram story, your heart clenches a little when you see the photo.

“Oh so that’s her name, why the fuck would she take a photo of me,” He grumbles, grabbing your phone from your hand and screenshotting the story and saving it into your camera roll

“___ I swear I didn’t even know her until today, Mingyu asked me to go out with him and apparently they followed along, I swear I didn’t even know her fucking name, do you know her? Why would she take a picture of me without asking? She was really weird with me you know,”

The whole time he’s rambling on and on, everything was beginning to piece together.

“___, I fucking love you so much, I only said that to Yongjae because I knew he would be a big mouth and tell everyone, and I obviously didn’t want you to find out that way, and I don’t like Mirae at all, in fact, all she did was make me fucking uncomfortable with her horrible flirting skills, I love you, please ____,” Jungkook grabs your hands again, searching your face for a reply.

“Prove it to me then, I’ll give you a chance to show me that you really do love me,” You’re trying your best to hold back from simply just confessing back to him, yet it seemed too good to be true that Jungkook, your best friend, liked you back the same

“I will,” Jungkook nods, but his heart aches internally, he truly did love you so much, it hurt him to know you were hesitating so much

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispers, his face inches away from yours,

“Okay” You whisper back, leaning to lock your lips with his

Maybe everything would turn out okay

jungkook: don’t sleep too late okay? love you ❤️

Just as you closed the front door of your apartment and bid goodbye to Jungkook, of course he had sent you a text immediately.

You find yourself smiling unconsciously at the text, before quickly replying:

you: okay, see you tomorrow :)

Your phone lights up again,

jungkook: i love you

jungkook: you didn’t reply my first ‘love you’ ☹️

You laugh to yourself, replying

you: okay fine, i love you too ❤️

you: so eager to profess your love? 😏

Jungkook immediately types back, he’s standing outside your front door still, hearing your muffled laughter from behind the door.

jungkook: of course, go and sleep, i can see your light is still on

jungkook: don’t miss me too much 😏

You look through the peephole, seeing Jungkook’s tall frame leaning against your door, his hair taking up most of the view from the hole.

you: okay goodnight, stop standing outside my door and go home before it’s too late

You hear Jungkook laugh from outside, before his footsteps begin to get softer as he walks away.

-

“___, I saw Jungkook leave your apartment last night, what were you doing?” The familiar voice rings from behind you as your arm is being held back.

“Junghyeon, leave me alone, it’s none of your business anymore,” You shake your arm out of his grasp, walking faster towards the entrance of the school, wanting to quickly head home before anything happens

Your ex boyfriend ignores your words, continuing to grab your arm and pull you back from walking further.

You wince from how hard he had tugged your arm, struggling as you pull against his grasp.

“Let go of me,” You grit through your teeth, desperately trying to escape.

“Try and escape, you won’t, you’re too fucking weak and your pretty little boy won’t come here and save you,” He seethes, breath blowing onto your face as you scrunch your face in disgust.

“I’m not telling you shit, you don’t need to dig into my business Junghyeon,” You spit at him, but he only tightens his grip on your arm, making you whimper in pain.

“No! You tell me what the fuck you were doing with him so late at night!” He bangs the locker near you, making you flinch at the loud noise.

“What the fuck are you doing, get your hands off of her,” There’s a very angry voice that rings through the air, as Junghyeon’s grasp on your arm gets released.

It’s Jungkook.

“Fuck off, don’t fucking touch her like that,” Jungkook growls at the man, holding his fist in the air as he grabs Junghyeon’s shirt.

“Who are you to tell me that? YOU should be the one fucking off, she’s probably fucking around with other guys like the slut she is-“

BAAM.

Jungkook punches him in the face, sending Junghyeon flying to the ground, as students start to gather in the hallways, gasping and whispering amongst themselves.

You quickly take Jungkook by the arm, attempting to drag him away from Junghyeon who’s clutching his jaw, wincing in pain on the floor.

“Jungkook, leave him, it’s okay already,” You’re slowly pulling him away as students gather around Junghyeon on the floor.

Jungkook’s panting heavily, you don’t recognise the look in his eyes as he lets himself get dragged away by you, but his eyes don’t leave Junghyeon who’s muttering something as he locks eyes with Jungkook.

“Wait baby, I need to teach that fucker a lesson,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, he reaches back to your arm to gently pull it away, but with the bruise forming on your arm from earlier, you whimper when he touches the hurt area.

Jungkook whips around with concern the moment he hears you wince, flinching from his touch as you hold onto your arm,

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry, let me see it,” He gently takes your arm, as you let him inspect the bruise, it was turning purple already, as he frowns.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to beat him up some more, he deserves it, how dare he touch my girlfriend like that,” Jungkook rambles on as he looks back at Junghyeon, who’s getting up from the floor and walking away.

“Kook, no more punching people, you’re going to get into trouble with the discipline mistress already,” You sigh, letting him inspect your bruise closer as he rubs his thumb lightly over it, eyes widening in concern as you wince even with the slightest touch.

Jungkook complies with your words, he would do anything to prove to you he truly did love you, no matter how bad he wanted to punch Junghyeon again.

That day, you wait for Jungkook who’s currently in detention for acting out. He has tried to reason with the discipline mistress but she had given him no leeway. Instead, you decided to wait in the library until your boyfriend was done with his detention, focusing on doing your work as you wait.

On the other hand, Jungkook was making love letters throughout his detention, the discipline mistress sighing every time she checked up on him and Junghyeon who were sitting at opposite ends in the class.

“Jungkook-ah, you had the right intention for wanting to stand up for ___, but you should know violence is never the answer, no matter how much you like the person,”

He frowns at the discipline mistress’ words, “I’m sorry Ma’am, I promise I won’t punch anyone, but I don’t just like her, I love her,” He sighs, writing more words into the pink paper he had folded into hearts.

She can only sigh at the love sick Jungkook, Junghyeon glaring right at him from the other end of the class.

-

“Oh! You gave me a shock!” You gasp quietly as Jungkook slides into the chair next to you, you check your phone, noticing it had already been 6pm long ago, meaning Jungkook was done with his detention for quite a long time.

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Jungkook gestures to your phone, as you notice the notifications from him:

jungkook: im done with my detention

jungkook: i learnt my lesson i promise 🙃 which part of the library are you at?

“Oh sorry Koo, I was so focused on my work I didn’t notice,” You sweep a strand of hair covering his eyes.

“I searched high and low for you, I cleared out two whole floors of the library before I found you here,” He groans, sulking into the seat.

You laugh quietly, finding it endearing.

Jungkook was really making his way to your heart.

“Oh! I have this for you I made while waiting,” He reaches into his jacket pocket and fishes out the pink paper folded into a heart shape, placing it into your hands.

“Oh? You did this in detention?” You smile at him, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

He was being fucking cute, writing you a love letter while being in detention, you wanted to kiss him right there and then.

“Yeah, missed you and thought about you so much, now quickly open it,” He gestures for you to unfold the paper, as you comply

You read the small handwriting squished together to fit into the small piece of paper:

____, I’m writing this in detention as I was told to reflect on my actions so I thought I should write this to you to show you how much I love you ❤️ When you began to act cold towards me that day, my heart shattered into a million pieces, I wanted to just wrap you up and protect you from whoever was hurting you. I didn’t know that you had thought it was me who didn’t like you more than a friend, it hurt me to see you cry and push me away like that. I just love you so fucking much, I want you to believe my words, because you mean the world to me, no matter how we would have ended up if I had confessed to you earlier, or if you had confessed to me first, or if we never got jealous of each other, I would love you nevertheless.

You’re giggling to yourself as you finish reading the letter, folding it back and keeping it in your pocket.

“Yah! Don’t laugh at my love confession,” Jungkook pouts dramatically, whining softly as he sulks into the chair next to you

“I’m laughing because I find it cute baby, do you want your kiss or not?” You giggle as he lights up, sitting up quickly and kissing you.

You happily kiss him back, you put your arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss. Jungkook is on cloud nine.

Not before you both get interrupted by another student who’s sitting opposite you, clearing his throat.

You quickly pack up your stuff and you and Jungkook head out of the library, not wanting to get caught again.

-

The next day, you’re in the canteen sitting with your friends, as you make eye contact with Jungkook, who now proudly proclaims as your boyfriend. He sends you a quick smile before turning back to Mingyu who’s talking.

You look down as your phone lits up,

boyfriend ❤️: like my new contact name?

You gasp, whipping your head up at Jungkook who’s smiling at you mischeviously, you quickly reply back:

you: yah! when did you do that!!!!

you: its cute though, miss you already

You shut off your phone before your friends catch you.

The phone next to you lits up again,

boyfriend ❤️: come here and kiss me then

You roll your eyes at him, going back to your conversation with your friends.

The next thing you know, Yeji stops talking as she nods behind you, telling you to turn around.

“Hi baby,” Jungkook’s smiling down at you as he leans down to peck your lips.

The whole table gasps, making the rest of the canteen turn their heads to see what was going on

“Kook!” You slap his chest, burying your face into your hands in embarrassment.

“He was looking, had to show him who’s the boss,” Jungkook whispers into your ear as he smirks at you, you tsk at his expression

He laughs at you, ruffling your hair before running back to his table.

“Oh my gosh, why didn’t you tell me?” Yeji shakes your hand in hers, your friends obviously taken aback by the current situation.

“It happened recently, I swear I was going to tell you,” You groan, trying to keep their reactions down so that people will stop staring your way.

-

“Baby, you want this?” Jungkook gestures towards the huge stuffed toy puppy hanging from the booth

“Are you sure you can get that? It’s pretty hard y’know,” You laugh, nudging your boyfriend playfully in the chest.

“Hey! I’m an expert at carnival games okay? Let me show you,” He passes the booth owner money, receiving three balls to throw into the moving buckets.

You watch as Jungkook perfectly gets all three balls into the buckets, as you jump excitedly next to him,

“OHMYGOSH!!!!” You’re squealing as you shake your boyfriend, who’s amused by your reaction, letting himself get shaken by you.

“Told you I could do it,” Jungkook proudly hands you the giant stuffed puppy, as you kiss him on the cheek as a thank you gesture.

“Urgh, maybe I shouldn’t have won that,” Jungkook groans, sulking into the sofa in your bedroom

“Why? It’s so cute and soft, it looks like you baby,” You giggle, hugging the huge stuffed toy tighter

“Firstly, that puppy doesn’t look like me, secondly, it’s quite literally stealing you away from me,” You watch as he whines, sinking further into the sofa.

“Okay, okay fine, now I’ll pay attention to my sulky puppy,” You tease him, walking over to the sofa and cupping his face into your hands.

Jungkook stares up at you, he’s admiring your pretty face, he could stare at you all day.

“Paw,”

“Huh?”

“Give me paw, puppy,” You giggle as you have your hand out expectantly, waiting for him to obey your command.

“Yah! What has the soft toy done to you!” He tackles you, tickling your sides as you burst out into laughter, pleading with him to stop.

Jungkook pays no heed to your pleas, he continues to manhandle you so that you’re now laying on the sofa, and he’s caging you above, preventing you from escaping his attacks.

It takes him a lot of pleading from you to stop, by the time he does stop the both of you are laughing, Jungkook plopping on top of you as you bask in happiness.

You’d love him nevertheless.

[groceryreceiptss]

𝐚𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | p.j.

percy jackson x reader | word count : 1.4k | requested

summary : though you were a skillful archer, you were an amateur when it came to dealing with a sword. while percy helped you trained for hours after lunch, he couldn’t help but fall in deeper with you, even though you’d probably never know it.

contains : my writing (again, warning). just fluff things <3 reader was implied as apollo's daughter, but never actually specified. oh, and a katniss everdeen reference! (because is the fic actually written by me if it doesn't include at least one thg reference?). let me know if there’s more!

a/n : i do NOT know how to write action-y scenes (even ones that are as light as this) so sorry if this comes out as flat haha. i had to get out my copy of the lightning thief just to be a tinny bit more familiar with it to be honest. also yes the title is kinda cheesy but soo is this entire fic < 3

credits : fan art by frostbite.studios, dividers by @benkeibear, pins i used (1) (2) (3)

───────────────────────

The afternoon sun hit the color of your eyes as you tried the move he had just demonstrated to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and your forehead slicked with sweat. A borrowed but fitting sword was gripped in your hand, ready to clatter his. Percy and you had been going at it ever since lunch ended and yet you still seemed determined to keep going. 

Percy counted and you attacked, one, two, three. Next move, you tried to thrust it into the right of his protected ribcage. But with your lovely eyes being a little too obvious and your hand still clumsy with the blade, he deflected it off easily, letting yours fall to the ground. 

“Oh, I’m terrible,” you said with an embarrassed smile, pulling up your bronze helmet and dragging a hand to swipe your hair out of your forehead. You retrieved the sword and turned to ask him. “Okay, honest opinion. What did I do wrong?” 

“Well…” he started, as he took off his own helmet, tucking it under his arm, “Your eyes give away a bit too much to the opponent, so I could easily tell what you were going to do. You’re still too hesitant about it I think.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Well, how can I not when my opponent at this given moment is Percy fucking Jackson but go on.” 

Percy was thankful that the sun was taking it one for the team and became a cover for the red that just possibly covered his face. He shook his head, fighting a smile that was trying to break through his lips. Joke about it, take defense.

The lines of his mouth morphed into a teasing grin. “Is that an excuse that I hear, miss y/l/n? Since when do you play with those?”  You were always so stubborn, in the best sense of the word. And Percy always found it admirable to say the least.

You raised your eyebrows before shooting back, “And if it is, it's also not unreasonable, Mr. Jackson.” That cute smile of yours taking flight in your face. He noticed that it was still the same one from when he first saw you at twelve, a few years back. Some things never changed. 

“What else?” You asked again, crossing your arms with the sword pointing downward. “Come on, don't be shy. I can take it.”

He considered it before answering. “Your hand wasn’t steady enough with the sword and with the move you were trying to execute. It made it a bit… off. And hard to get away in battles.”

You let yourself collapse to the ground with a dramatic sigh, exhaustion finally took over you. Your legs stretched in front of you and your helmet and sword clanged by your side. “Never mind, I lied, I can't take it."

He laughed and sat down next to you, putting his equipment by yours. The wind was finally picking up now, bringing a sense of balance to the hot weather.

"I can never get this right.” You huffed, blowing up your loosen hair, which Percy couldn't help but think that you looked slightly adorable.

“It’s totally fine,” he promised you, words creeped with encouragement. “Just be more confident! I swear it works. Or just…” he trailed off, unsure, and then shrugged. “don’t think about it too much, I guess.” 

“Contradiction, contradiction.” You said in a sing-song voice before looking at him with that inspecting face and said, “Do you drink some secret potion or something? Someone altered your ambrosia?”

Percy let out a laugh, “Your perception of me is unrealistically high, I see. I can say the same to you, Katniss Everdeen.”

Your face’s expression stretched with surprise before you nodded in approval. “That’s the best way to compliment my archery skills actually, yes. Forget Apollo the doofus.”

“Who?” Percy played in the joke, to which you answered with the only appropriate one : “Exactly.”

He clapped his hand, an idea forming in his head. "Alright, how about this. If you give it a try just one more time, I'll give you some blue cupcakes my mom just sent me a few days ago." He offered with a knowing smile, getting you too well to strike a tempting bargain with you.

Percy knew how in love you were with his mom's cupcakes. Sally Jackson made the best for the best. It had only taken one bite and he could already tell how head over heels you were with them. He might or might not be planning to try to make a batch himself as a surprise for your upcoming birthday, but he feared the baking talent of the greats did not pass onto him. These hands weren't only skilled in combat, but with a pair of mitts and an oven, they could also burn an entire kitchen down.

Still though. Seeing the way your eyes immediately lit up right now made him rethink his choices. Maybe burning down a room wasn't so bad. At least you would probably laugh at his pathetic attempt.

Your mouth split into a grin and he was brought back to the world. You shook your head in slight disbelief. "Bringing Mrs. Jackson cupcakes into this? You are not playing fair, Perce."

"That's a deal then?" He held out his hand for a shake.

You sighed, putting his hand in yours. "Fine, deal."

Percy tried to ignore the fireworks he felt as he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you up to stand. His heart felt like it was trying to push its way out of his ribs, but in a good way. Like a thrill.

"Alright, one more time," He said as he retrieved his sword and you retrieved yours. "You ready?"

"Honestly, I'm just doing this for the cupcakes now." Seriously, how much could one person make him smile in the span of five minutes?

You and Percy put on the helmets. He counted to three, and you started taking offense as he took defense. One, two, three. It all started out well. Your movements were still a bit clumsy, but you'd get better on it in no time, he was sure. And you were doing pretty good work too. That was until you were stepping back, trying to deflect his now offensive movements, and tripped over yourself. You fell to the hard ground with an oof.

Luckily, with your equipment still intact, you couldn't be hurt that much. But Percy immediately dropped riptide and got to your side.

He knew it was stupid. You and him were both warriors, you were good with a bow, he was good with a sword. Both of you had been injured multiple times in different kinds of battles, and yours had been more grotesque than his more than once, so this was absolutely nothing. Still, he guessed, the instinct to worry would just stay the same.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, as he gently pulled you up to a sitting position. His forehead was creased together as he looked at you, but you were instead laughing, finding your recent incident funny. "What?" He asked, couldn't help but let a laugh, albeit confused, out of his lips too. Yours were charmingly infectious.

You pointed at your face, your bronze helmet askew, voice still laced with traces of mirth. "Tell me, how silly do I look?"

He smiled, affection swarmed him. "Very silly," Should he risk it? "So silly, it's borderline annoyingly cute actually." Okay, risking it then.

But you just smiled, either welcoming it or oblivious to the actual meaning behind it. Probably the latter. You wouldn’t be convinced someone actually liked liked you even if it was plastered on a billboard. You pointed at his face, and laughed again, this time with an effort of covering your mouth. "You look so silly too, I'm sorry."

He shook his hand, bringing out a breath of laughter, unable to keep his smile from growing further under the protective gear. "Hey," he said, finally taking off his helmet and letting the wind touch his face. "It was in solidarity with you as a friend! Please appreciate it."

"I do!" You took off your helmet, letting the glow of the sun kiss your face again. Percy couldn't help but be entranced with the way you looked, still perfect even with the destroying searing weather of June. You couldn't keep doing this to him. "Sorry, I'll stop." You promised as you withdrew a laugh, but he actually wished you wouldn't. He loved hearing you laughed, it made the wind that danced around him a melodic thing, one he could be around forever—or whatever it was the poets said.

Looking at you made him understand what they were always talking and raving about, but he could never explain it.

"So," You began, "About those cupcakes?"

───────────────────────

[bokutizer]

dada's so pwetty!

Includes : Sakusa, Oikawa, Suna Summary : Just a few daughters being enchanted by their dadas' looks Tags : fem!reader, fluff, domestic bliss pt. 2

You don't know what it is about SAKUSA, but you're sure he must be able to use some kind of sorcery. Because while you usually spend hours of playing volleyball with your daughter in your garden in hopes of tiring her out, reading to her, preparing a glass of warm milk for her before bed- While you do all of that to get your little mouse to sleep, all Sakusa has to do is lie down with her. That's it. Not a single effort needed. You would have kept on hanging onto your sorcery theory if one day you had not been silently standing outside of your daughter's room, the door slightly ajar and allowing you to view her and your husband lying together in her bed.

Sakusa is quiet as he lets her play with the dark curls on his head, his arm loosely wrapped around her back and keeping her close to him. He watches the way the ends of his hair wrap around her chubby fingers, the sight of it probably having an entrancing effect on her by the way her eyes slowly start getting droopier. It's usually like this. And it only takes a few minutes until her hand falls limply beside her head, and soft quiet snores start leaving her mouth. This time, however, Sakusa's able to hear her mutter something under her breath before her eyes fall shut. "Dada's so pretty." It's thanks to the complete silence in the room that he's able to hear it. And as always, Sakusa carefully gets up from the bed, tucking the blanket to her chin, and placing a soft peck against her forehead. Though, he doesn't realise that this time his lips linger there a little longer than usual. No sorcery then. Just love.

Shrieks and giggles resonate through the house as OIKAWA chases after the barely three feet short creature with a Yoda mask. You smile and shake your head absentmindedly at the tramping noises they make while speeding from the upper floor down the stairs, and into the kitchen where you're currently making dinner. You hear your daughter calling out to you for help, and you immediately lower the temperature of the stove before you feel her wrap her arms around your leg, trying to hide behind you. Both, Oikawa and you, smile knowingly at each other before he approaches you and wraps an arm around your waist.

"I see one pretty girl, but I could be swearing we had two of those in this house." Five years and one child later, and he's still the same smooth-talker, you think. But his talking does its work, as per usual, when you feel the grip on your leg loosen. "I'm here!" your daughter yells and slips her mask over her head, letting it fall to the ground. She laughs at Oikawa's faux and dramatic astonishment as he swiftly picks her up and holds her up against his chest, tenderly brushing his nose against hers. Small hands grab ahold of his face, his cheeks cradled in her soft palms when she speaks with an endearingly serious expression. "But dada's also pwetty, right mama?" She turns around and looks at you as if waiting for you to approve her statement. And of course you do, especially once you notice some moisture gathering in Oikawa's joyfully sparkling eyes as you lean over to press one peck on a chubby cheek and the other on one that somehow looks rosier than usual. "Yeah, he is."

SUNA always wonders how they do it. These menaces. These bad influences. These hooligans- The Miya twins. He will never understand why their annoyingly stupid antics are so hilarious to his daughter. So hilarious that she even once claimed wanting to marry one of them when she gets older. (At least she was referring to 'Samu, he thinks.) But as he watches Atsumu hold his daughter's fox plushy that Kita had once gifted her for her third birthday, moving it back and forth while talking in that high pitched voice, he has to admit that the twins can be quite an attraction. His daughter obviously thinks the same as she attentively listens to what Mr. Foxy (the toy - or rather Atsumu?) has to tell her.

Yes, the Miya twins are all fun and games. But there is only so much of excitement and action that a four year old's body can take. And once the exhaustion sets in, triggering her cranky and moody side, the only one she wants to be with are either her mommy or daddy. Luckily, the onigri shop has quietened down, only a few customers left that are finishing their meals. "C'mere." Suna says softly when he notices his daughter's eyes glaze over with sleepiness and she starts rubbing them. He's quick to cradle her against his chest, completely dwarfing her, as his hands rub small circles along her back when she leans her head against his shoulder. "We're leaving soon, then we'll go sleep. That' sound good?" He feels her cheek brush against his shirt as she quietly nods, but before her daddy's light strokes along her back and hair lull her to sleep, she catches uncle 'Tsumu say something to uncle 'Samu while holding her plushy up. "Check this. Mr Foxy looks just like Sunarin." Hearing their snickers, Suna swears he's about to give them a child-friendly comeback until a frail, whispering voice catches him off-guard. "Nuh-uh. Dada's prettier than Mr. Foxy." He's just glad the twins didn't catch it, otherwise he wouldn't hear the end of it.

[mephiestophyl]

When You Come Back... ♥︎

Synopsis: You just hope that Caleb won't leave you behind.

(caleb x reader, sfw, angst, hurt/comfort, pre-skyhaven departure, unestablished relationship, reassurance, physical touch, use of nicknames: pip-squeak, one use of the word "brat", Caleb is also referred to as "Gege", no use of Y/N, gender neutral reader, reader is mc, reader has abandonment issues, brief mention of zayne, reader is anxious, mention of the chronorift catastrophe, fuck you caleb for leaving RAGAGHH)

——

The night before Caleb leaves for Aerospace Academy, you find yourself walking up to his bedroom door. He's finished up packing his things, double checking his luggage just in case he missed anything. He looks up as the door opens, catching the sight of you peering behind the door.

"Heya, pip-squeak. 'You having trouble sleeping?" He smiles up at you from where he's kneeling beside his things, his cheeks dimpling with fondness. The suitcase and duffel bag serve as a reminder to you that he's going to be gone soon, little stabs piercing your heart at the sight.

You realise that you didn't really have a plan of action before heading into his bedroom, too caught up in your emotions to have conjured up a conversation starter. It feels too vulnerable and intimate to expose your feelings about him leaving out in the open, but the knowledge that he was going to be gone soon won over your anxiety and drove you to seek out his company.

"Um, no.. 'Just wanted to see you, I guess."

Caleb, having manoeuvred around your attempts to deflect from the truth before, falls smoothly into his familiar role of coaxing you out of your shell. He smirks, and beckons you to sit next to him on the floor, tapping the ground with his hand.

"Oh yeah? Missing me already?" Caleb teases.

"No! I.. I just want to watch you fail at stuffing all your clothes in your bag." You accept his invitation to sit next to him, moving aside a stray tank top with your foot and taking the spot next to Caleb. "It looks fit to burst with how much you're trying to fit in there, Gege. Show your bag some mercy."

Caleb's teasing gaze melts into fondness, and then he lets out a sigh reminiscent of someone who just got back home after a long day of work.

"God, I wish I could. You don't know what that bag's been through to fit so much." Caleb shifts his gaze from the bag over to you, sneaking an arm behind your back, his hand landing gently on your hip and fitting you into the space between his arm and his side. You lean in instinctively, his warmth softening the stiffness in your body. Caleb rests his chin on top of your head and lets out another sigh, "I'm going to miss you, you know."

"I know."

Caleb huffs in amusement, "Good."

A brief moment of silence passes, words expressing things like, I'm going to miss you too, or even worse, Please stay, I don't want you to leave, remaining lodged in your throat. Hoping that your body is able to express feelings that words can not, you raise a hand to his chest and tug on his shirt. In response, Caleb lifts his chin from the top of your head and shifts slightly to look at you, letting out a short inquisitive, "Hm?"

"What are you going to miss the most about me?" You ask tentatively.

Caleb takes a moment to look at you, then slightly tilts his head up and closes his eyes, stroking his chin with his thumb in a dramatic display of pondering.

"What am I going to miss the most about you, huh? Hm..." He can't help but chuckle at your groan in response to his obnoxious posturing. He looks back down at you and pokes playfully at your forehead with his finger.

"Well, I'm certainly going to miss having a feisty little pip-squeak to tease when I'm bored."

"Hey! Is that all!" You accuse.

Caleb smiles and does his signature head pat that never fails to tousle up your hair.

"I'll only tell you what else I'm gonna miss about you once you tell me what you'll miss about your dearly beloved Gege."

You scoff at him, the momentary feeling of lightness in your heart then shifting into a heavy weight as you're faced with the reality of his soon-to-be absence. "Well... 'm gonna miss watching you do my chores while I eat the last of the ice cream from the freezer."

Caleb flicks your forehead in response, "Brat."

You giggle at his faked annoyance and shift from where you're seated against Caleb, turning around to face him fully, though momentarily missing his warmth.

"I'm also gonna miss beating you in video games on the TV, even though you know I hate when you lose on purpose."

"But you get mad at me when I win!"

You ignore his protest and carry on talking.

"I'll also really miss your cooking - especially your baking! I'm going to suffer from Gege's super special Apple Pie withdrawal while you're gone.."

"Heh, you sound like Zayne," Caleb teases.

The mention of Zayne stirred up a bitter-sweet feeling inside your heart. One minute, you two were having fun at an aquarium, and the next — nothing. He disappeared from your life without a word.

...Will Caleb do the same once he goes, too?

"Caleb..."

"Yeah, pip-squeak?"

"...You have to promise me something."

Sensing the serious undertone of your voice, Caleb pulls you closer to his lap, placing a hand on your lower back and lifting your chin with the other; his eyes an infinite well of kindness and patience that never runs dry, a hum leaving his mouth in a way that encourages you to go on.

"Once you leave, promise me you'll still message me. Promise you'll still keep in contact with me."

You think of the box hidden away in your room with a necklace that you bought using your savings, waiting to be revealed, and the message engraved on it.

"And..."

Lips trembling, you throw yourself onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you like second nature, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug, eliciting a grunt out Caleb. You take in his scent; the scent of home, baked goods, and warm hugs — safety.

"— Promise me you'll come back home. Whenever you can. Please."

A minute of silence passes, and then you suddenly feel Caleb pull you away from where you had buried your face in the junction between his neck and his shoulder. You're able to see his face clearly now, taking in his bewildered expression and furrowed brows. He cups the sides of your face with his hands, his palms anchoring you in this moment.

"Pip-squeak, of course I will. Never doubt for even a second how much you mean to me. You're my entire world, y'know?"

You nuzzle into one of his hands, a choked up whine leaving in your throat as he carries on.

"—When the disaster happened... from the moment you stuck to my side for months on end; I knew you were someone I would dedicate my life to protecting. At that time where I felt so aimless and lost and didn't know what to do or where to go — you were there to give me purpose, a reason to keep going."

Caleb brings your head toward his chest, and you cling to his shirt like he'll disappear if you don't hold on to him tight enough. He places his hand on your hair and runs his fingers through your locks, a wave of warmth washing over you.

"So of course I'll keep in contact, of course I'll text you and call you and visit you and Gran. You don't have to tell me to do any of that. I'm always going to be with you — even if we're far apart from each other."

"Promise?" You say, slightly wavering as you look back up at Caleb, blinking through the wetness of your eyelashes, taken aback by his conviction.

Caleb lowers his head, resting his face on the top of your head, feeling his lips curl into a smile. The certainty behind his words buzzes through your skin and settles in your heart.

"I promise. I'll never leave you behind."