#And I don't REALLY care about meeting him

[nezuscribe]

part one

fake dating your best friend gojo satoru is a lot harder than you imagined.

not because he's not good at the faking part, he's really good at that. in fact, he's so good that you sometimes forget it's all an act. something to get him closer to the girl he's been crushing on since freshman year, and you closer to a guy he thinks you've been crushing on for forever.

thank god he doesn't know his assumption is completely incorrect.

so, yeah, maybe agreeing to fake date the guy you've been in love with since you were playing in sandboxes wasn't your brightest idea, nor was it particularly smart to help him try to get together with the girl he likes but so what? this was probably your only chance to truly experience gojo.

your friends were all shocked when the two of you came out with the news. they looked at your with furrowed brows and parted lips, not knowing whether to say congratulations or i told you so.

and it get's even harder tyring to protect yourself as this whole scheme continues because he's just such a good fake boyfriend. like that time you flunked an exam? you could've sworn he was playing with your feelings just for fun at this point.

---

"what's wrong?" his muffled voice came out from behind your bedroom door. the two of you agreed to meet up for a "fake date" that would be plastered across your socials to make geto and suki jealous, but you had missed out on his last phone call, his plethora of texts, and weren't responding to his onslaught of questions.

you groaned into your pillow, face dry with old tears as you sat in a hunched and curled up position. you were so mentally exhausted from studying the past week and failing so miserably that you didn't even have the energy to open the door for him.

"was it that test?" gojo asked, and you just groaned louder at the thought of it, wiping at your nose.

you could hear him sigh, getting his answer from your weak excuse of a response. even when the two of you were in high school you'd kick yourself down over these sorts of things. now, in college, it seems to have gotten ten times worse.

"look...can i come in?" he knows you don't want him there, but that's the exact reason he's pushing this so much.

you swallow, sniffiling again as you raise your head from the pillow just a bit so that he could hear your groggy voice.

"i looked pooped out," you tell him, "i don't think i can make it tonight."

there's a pause,

and then he opens the door.

you groan in annoyance, looking at him from over your shoulder with a wrinkled brow and ready to berate him for being so emotionally inept when you spot the mountain of things in his arms.

snacks, food, his laptop (for movies, never anything work or school related), and that peach ice cream you love so much but is never in stock.

he lays it all out on your desk with a pleased smile, watching you roll over on your bed to take it all.

"kinda pieced it together when you didn't pick up," he explains, pointing to all the things he knew would cheer you up, "thought this would help."

you slowly lift from the position you'd been rotting in for the past three hours, going on wobbly legs as you make your way over to where he was.

fresh tears well up in your eyes because this isn't even fair, you still flunked that test, and the guy you love is acting like he actually cares about you.

at your reaction, gojo's smile drops, a worried expression taking over his face as his hand shoots up to your arms, caging you in between his strong body as you lean your head back and let out a strangled wail, one reminiscent of a cat.

"hey, hey, come on," he shushes, bringing you in for a tight hug, one reserved only for you, or so you hopelessly tell yourself, "it's okay, it's just a test."

your breathing quivers, "a really important one," you say, muffled against his chest, "a really really important one."

gojo shrugs, one hand rubbing up and down your back, the other one gingerly cradling the back of your head.

"and you'll do really really good on the next one, yeah?" he says softly, all teasing gone from his voice. you hate this, you hate that he's actually nice and not some jackass who's just using you.

you nod limply.

"maybe you could just buy the grade for me?" you say through a hiccup, looking up at him through watery eyes as his face of concern melts into a more relaxed one, rolling his eyes as he pinches your side.

"always thinking about my wallet, huh?" he chastises you, pushing you away by the flick of your forehead, shoving some chips into your outstretched hands.

"it's something good to think about," you mutter weakly, opening it as you look at the ruffled chips, rubbing at your nose as another hiccup escapes your chapped lips. it's stupid, you know that, but you can't control it.

"hey," he calls, his voice dipping a little, the one that forces you to look up at him because it means he's being serious, "it's gonna be okay. promise."

you nod, blinking slowly as you eat a chip, chewing lazily.

"besides, my crazy smart fake girlfriend can do anything she puts her mind to, right?" he says with a boyish smile, taking some chips for himself as he gives you another hug.

your shoulder sink again.

damn it.

[innorality]

Imagine Stack or Smoke taking a shy thick girl’s virginity!

how about... smoke and stack? 😼

cw : oral sex, fingering, taking turns, unprotected (he pulled out), it's painfully obvious how much I need them both-, spit play (stack loves spit play its canon), not proofread, english isn't my first language

"so... how is this even going to work..?" you questioned. and honestly, reasonable. because seeing the two twins walk towards you on the bed, one loosening his tie while the other was already working on his belt, is something worth questioning.

smoke held an arm out to stop smoke—who had been rushing to fasten his belt— in his tracks. "don't get ahead of yourself," smoke ordered and stack groaned, letting out a low, honey-coated laugh. "we're here to fuck her, yeah? why you stoppin' me?" "It's her first time. we can't rush it." you squeezed your thighs together at the interaction, whining.

their attention turned back to you as smoke made his way to you, finally kissing you into the pillow your head was resting on.

he leaned in, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. his hand brushes your jaw, gentle at first, then firmer, anchoring you to the moment. your heart stumbles as his mouth meets yours—slow, searching, then deeper, urgent. his lips taste like heat and want, and when he presses closer, it's as if the rest of the world falls away.

you respond without thinking, your fingers clutching his shirt, needing him nearer. the kiss burns—soft and rough all at once—leaving you breathless, undone beneath his touch.

as if on cue, while smoke kissed you, stack made his way to between your legs that he peeled open softly while gripping the flesh of your thighs for underneath your skirt. he hiked it up and kissed his way up your inner thigh, the proximity to his goal arousing him.

smoke pulled away, his hand snaking to underneath your top as he massaged your breast, his hand following your chests up-and-down movement. before you knew it, stack had pulled your underwear to the side, and you jumped when you felt his tongue lick a long, teasing stripe up your slit.

"o-oh my- what are you-!?" your cheeks heated up when you felt him smile against your cunt. you could not see him, as he was underneath your skirt, but the sensation of his warm breath on your now exposed skin had you throbbing. "you better not be messin' around under there, stack." smoke warned, which earned him another chuckle from the twin. "you'd be surprised."

smoke went back to distracting you from the overwhelming sensation of stack eating you out, pulling top down your shoulder to expose your breasts more. he leaned in once more, "may I?" and you nodded, before his lips landed on your nipple while the other one was being rolled between his finger tips.

"oh lord- my gosh! shit-" you kept cutting yourself off with your own moans, each sensation one upping the other. the feeling of smoke's warm tongue against your nipple had your back arching, aching for more.

but what you really felt was stack's eager tongue on your cunt. he was licking up and down, the tip of his tongue bumping against your clit which had your hips bucking slightly. he kissed the bud softly before diving in completely, sucking on it harshly which had you whining. then, he angled his head lower, and his tongue penetrated you slowly. you gasped, not used to the feeling of penetration.

smoke took advantage of your opened mouth and plunged two rough fingers inside it, pressing against your tongue as you instinctively sucked on them. "you feel that? you feel him making you feel good, sweetheart?" he began and you clenched around stack's tongue, making him grin.

"look at you, baby. we just began and you're already whining." he leans in to kiss your cheek, "ain't you lucky that we're the ones taking care of a sweet girl like you? huh?" you nodded eagerly, moaning around his wet fingers when you felt stack's tongue curve onto itself, grazing a spongey spot with its tip that had your eyes rolling back.

"you got a finger in?" smoke turned to stack, who pulled away from your cunt to hike your skirt up higher, completely exposing your lower body. he was sweating, you noticed. "nah, just my tongue. I'm about to put one in, though." smoke nodded, turning back to you, only to see that your eyes have already rolled back again—stack put a long finger inside, and he was unforgiving. his pace was relentless, quick and easy, slamming his palm onto your clit.

"go easy on her, yeah?" smoke instructed as he took your top off completely, exposing your chest and tummy. "just what I wanted to see..."

"it's so good! oh my- fuck, I'm-" he did not slow down one bit, even slightly speeding up just to pull more of those pretty sounds from your mouth. he felt your walls clamp down on his fingers and nodded to smoke who kissed you again, distracting all your senses.

you felt overwhelmed in the best way possible, and it's the moment you realize that, that you feel your first orgasm washing over you. it's felt intense, every muscle in your body tensing up as your mouth went slack, barely having the spirit to kiss smoke back. "thats it baby, youre doing perfect." he egged you on as your velvety walls clenched around stack's digits, coating them with cream.

your thighs, trembling, clenched around his hips, caging him in.

he kept pumping, getting progressively slower, letting you ride out your orgasm, before stopping completely when you go limp. he didn't want to overestimate you on your first time... not yet.

he allowed you to catch your breath, using that time to take your skirt off completely. you were now completely bare in front of two men who looked at you like you were the first meal they had on their table for years.

"that wasn't so bad now, was it?" stack looked at you, chuckling. you nodded sheepishly, "y-yeah.."

suddenly, smoke left your side, quickly getting replaced by stack. "here it comes, sugar." he smirked while watching his brother undo his belt, letting his pants drop. he pulled his cock out, rubbing it along your slick folds making you jump slightly. "she's so fucking wet..." he commented also absentmindedly, which had you clenching.

"you ready?" smoke asked you, and you nodded. you felt embarrassed, flustered, but you couldn't take you eyes off of the man that was about to take your virginity.

the push of his cock against your entrance knocked the wind out of you, and before you could recover, you felt two moist fingers tap against your cheek. you looked up to stack, "wanna taste yourself, baby?" you furrowed your eyebrows, "huh?" your voice being barely above a whisper. his thumb landed on your bottom lip, pulling it open softly and your followed, opening your mouth as clear saliva dripped down his mouth into yours.

the moment the drop of spit landed on your tongue, smoke had bottomed out, his tip bumping into your cervix which made you cry out. "you fully in?" stack question and smoke, lost in bliss, nodded eagerly while closing his eyes, throwing his head back. "holy fuck-" he couldn't help the buck of his hips as he grabbed onto yours, using his knees to dig into the fat of your thighs and pry them slightly more open.

"p-please-" that was the only confirmation he needed to start moving. he went back and forth, relishing in the feeling of your warm untouched walls around him. stack walked up to him and set a hand on your tower tummy, pressing down to heighten the sensation of smoke's dick inside you. you cried both of their names out, your body squirming uncontrollably.

stack other hand landed on your pussy, fingers immediately looking for your clit, rubbing it quickly when he found it. "r-right there! yes-!" you whined, as smoke's tip bumped into that one spot again.

"there?" his voice, baritone, bubbled from his chest as his body ran on pure instinct, angling your hips in a way that made him ram into your g-spot with every other thrust. you nodded, your voice simply dying down as you ran out of breath with all the moaning and whining.

stack pressed down a bit harder on your tummy, his hand making a wave motion to even out the sensation. "you like that, sugar?" "fuck- yes! I'm- I'm close- gonna-" and you barely got the opportunity to warn them before you creamed on smoke's cock again, squeezing down on his so hard he had trouble moving again. the view and sensation of you orgasming had him nearing his own high.

you whine when he pulled out of you to fist his dick, stroking himself fast enough to cum all over your tummy with some of it landing on stack's hand, squeezing around the base to ride out his high with a hiss. he moaned your name before tumbling back and plopping down onto the bed.

"s-shit... that was-" "smoke are serious right now? learn how to aim, man." he peaked at stack who was shaking his hand in the air, "some of it got on my hand! fuck," he walked out the room to grab a tissue.

smoke's arm wrapped around you as you were still catching your breath, mind still hazy from the orgasm.

"that was... amazing..." you managed to admit between breaths and he smiled.

"I know, baby."

[manariee]

I LOVE YOU IM SORRY

渴望你 。lost you

박성훈 & fem!reader wc 830 ◜ᯅ◝ emotional conflict, crying, intimicy, kissing

MANA: sorry

It was so petty.

The argument started over something small - really, something about distance.

Nothing too harmful, right?

But the tension from exhaustion, unspoken worries, and one sharp word too many made the flames burn even more.

You had stood your ground, voice strained but clear enough. Sunghoon's jaw was clenched, he hadn't yelled, but that coldness in his tone? It cut deeper than any shout.

So you left.

You needed air, to cry somewhere else - away from his silence, his dissapointment, your own guilt and feelings.

The night air was cold, and each step felt heavier than the other. You weren't even sure how long you were gone, or cared to check your phone. You just wandered.

When you came back, the apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

You stepped in cautiously, heart beating so loud you could hear it. The lights were dim, casting shadows across the floor. Then you saw him - sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair.

The moment his eyes met yours, you froze.

Red-rimmed. Bloodshot. A mess.

''Where were you?'' His voice cracked—like it physically hurt him to speak.

Before you could answer, he stood and crossed the room in two strides, pulling you into his chest with a desperation that nearly knocked the air out of you.

''I'm sorry,'' he whispered into your hair, voice trembling. ''I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it - I shouldn't have said any of that. I was scared and messed it up.''

You didn't want to believe anything, you wanted to push him away. Not because of anger because of the dissapointment you felt in yourself.

But you felt it.

You felt the way his arms trembled around you, how tightly he held you—like if he let go, you’d disappear again.

You clung back, burying your face into his neck, tears pooling in your eyes.

''I thought I lost you,'' he murmured.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Your breaths were still uneven, both of you standing there in the soft light of the apartment.

''I thought I lost you,'' Sunghoon whispered again, quieter this time, his lips brushing your temple as if even saying it hurt.

You leaned back just slightly to look at him, your hands sliding up to cup his cheeks.

His eyes were glassy, lashes wet. He looked wrecked—but in the most vulnerable, open way. Like his heart was laid out in front of you, raw and aching.

''I'm sorry..'' you managed to crack out, fingers brushing against his skin. ''I didn't mean to-''

''I know,'' he breathed, ''It was foolish of me, you- It wasn't your fault. I was—just stupid. I get scared of losing you and I push too hard. I’m sorry.''

You didn’t respond with words.

You just kissed him.

Slow. Deep. Like you were trying to pour every piece of forgiveness into his mouth, every inch of ''I’m here'' into the way your lips moved against his.

And he kissed you back with everything he had.

His hands found your waist, sliding under your shirt like he needed to feel your skin. As if just the touch of your skin could ground him. His mouth moved over yours with a way that wasn’t about lust - it was need. Desperate, breathless need.

He backed you gently against the wall, lips never leaving yours, your hands tangling in his hair.

''I love you,'' he murmured between kisses. ''I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you.''

You pulled back just for a second, meeting those eyes. His eyes. The ones that were screaming ''Don't leave.'' lips swollen, eyes glassy.

You exhaled, breath shaky. ''Stop apologizing and make up.''

He laughed, breath shaky—then obeyed.

And in that moment, it wasn’t about making out to forget the fight. It was about remembering why you always came back to each other.

Why it was always, always worth it.

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication @lezleeferguson-120 @fleurhoons @rikifever @chaeneu @jjennuine

NETS: @k-films

[withahappyrefrain]

This made me giggle so I’m sharing it with you. I know you’re riding the Bob Reynolds train rn (lord knows I am too babe) but seeing all the delicious photoshoots and interviews Lew is doing for Thunderbolts had the wheels in my little brain turning. It specifically had me thinking about his gorgeous long locks. AND that somehow got me thinking about Bob Floyd (a natural tangent at this point tbh) and the dagger reaction to him having long locks. Like maybe Bob is on a family leave for one of his babies and the day before he’s due back to base he meets up with the Daggers at the Hard Deck for a little welcome back party and maybe they don’t even recognize him when he comes in or something. I can picture Bob making a little witty comment about how his wife likes the long locks though cuz it gives her more to hang on to

"This is what? Child number five?" Jake asks as he adjusts the banner.

"Three. Though considering how quickly they had this one, we'll probably be doing the same thing around this time next year," Bradley snorted.

"For a guy who isn't Irish, he sure loves having Irish twins," Javy remarked, having given up on the balloon arch.

"Can we stop talking about my copilot's breeding habits and go back to making sure the banner is straight? Thanks in advance." Natasha rolled her eyes. One would think after doing this two times, the third would go off without a hitch. But apparently a 'welcome back from paternity leave' party for Bob Floyd couldn't occur without a failed balloon arch and a discussion over the WSO's enjoyment of having children.

Bob had been gone for three months, taking care of his wife and new daughter, Matilda. His presence had been sorely missed by the Daggers. After all, who else could subtly put Hangman in his place?

Not Bradley, that was for damn sure.

"I told you all, we don't need the balloon arch." The voice was familiar, but when they turned to the source, the squad was stunned.

The man looked so much like Bob, but also not. Same build, same voice, same cornflower eyes. But there was also stubble dusted across his face and long dark locks that curled at the end. No glasses.

It was Bob. But at the same time, it wasn't.

Jake was the first to speak, since he had no filter, "You're not our baby on board."

"What's he trying to say is you look different," Mickey explained after elbowing Jake in the ribs.

"Huh?" It took Bob a second to realize, "Oh yeah. I plan to cut it off and shave tomorrow. Just didn't have time today."

"You really let yourself go during this leave Bobby. That bad?" Jake joked, despite no one finding it funny.

Bob's eyes narrowed, lips forming into a tight line, "No. My wife just likes it when my hair's long. Gives her something to hold onto."

Jake promptly shut up. The rest of the squad were thankful Bob was back.

[gotaksboyfie]

Hello there !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

I just saw the Seong-je headcannons you did, can i req a oneshot?

Where the reader (fem or gender neutral, its up to you ^^) is an absolute sweetheart (basically a polar opposite to Seong-je) accidentally makes him jealous??

Seong-je x reader smut-fluff req ( ≧ᗜ≦)

(Im a sucker for opposites !! Hehe)

-🎀

sweet and sour

gif creds: @1liv

pairing keum seongje x female reader

summary when seongje catches you talking to another guy, he has to teach you a lesson

word count 1.7k

warnings/tags jealousy, smut, degregation, minor violence

it's late at night, and you're still waiting for seongje's union meeting to end. you're sat outside of a convenience store drinking an iced americano as you stare down the street, hoping seongje comes quick.

a voice from your left startles you as you look up at the owner. it was just some guy from your school—the transfer kid if you remember correctly.

"i love the pin on your bag! you like one piece too?" he points to your purse, where a zoro pin lies.

"oh my god, yes!" you beam as he starts a conversation about one piece and anime. you always enjoyed talking about your interests.

"what's your name? mine's taesan."

"like the kpop idol," you laugh. "mine's y/n!"

the topic somehow shifts to his life as a new transfer student, originally coming from busan.

"how are you enjoying it here?" you ask.

"it's really nice. pretty peaceful so far."

"that's great! there's a really nice cafe with some kitties living around it around xxx street," you clap your hands together happily, remembering the small babies.

"cool. say, would you ever want to go with me some time?"

"mmh.. maybe if i'm not busy?" you furrow your brows trying to think of when you can spare some time to buy food for the cats and go out for a few hours. your schedule consists of... all seongje. uhh....

what you don't notice, is seongje staring intently at the two of you. he doesn't care who it is you're talking to, but you're smiling too widely for his liking.

too sweetly at someone other than seongje. your eyes look too bright as the random inches closer to you. his hands are starting to creep onto your seat, sliding towards your shoulder. even from a distance, the other guy's expression is just sleazy and nasty. seongje's not dumb, he knows what that guy's intentions are.

no one is allowed to touch what's his.

clenching his fist with barely concealed rage, he marches up to taesan wordlessly and strikes him first.

"what the fuck?!" the transfer student yells, clutching his cheek. blood oozes from his lips as he gets into a fighting stance. he doesn't get far before he's knocked down into some tables by seongje.

"the fuck are you trying to do, huh?" seongje clicks his tongue, stepping towards him.

"nothing! i–i swear," taesan pleads, covering his face with his forearm.

"don't fucking look at her, don't fucking talk to her," seongje snarls, diving in to land more hits. "don't even dare to breathe in her direction unless you want to die."

"seongje, stop! he wasn't doing anything!" you try and latch onto his arm to stop him, but he shakes you off.

"i didn't know she was taken!" taesan stammers, barely defending himself from seongje's assaults.

seongje chuckles dryly, "you must be new here. listen, she's mine. get the fuck out of my sight." he grabs taesan's collar and brings his mouth next to his ear, making sure you can't hear seongje. "you're lucky my girl doesn't like blood, or else you'd be losing a limb today."

as seongje gets up, taesan is gone in a flash. seongje doesn't look at you yet, just staring at the wall as he bites his lip angrily.

"seongje, he really wasn't-"

"do you think this is a game?" seongje cuts you off, dragging you roughly towards his house. his voice is quiet but you can hear the anger behind it.

"what? no, of course not." you're stumbling as seongje practically speed walks down the side walk, slightly unable to match his pace.

"you think i don't see it? the way they look at you. like they're owed something just because you look at them once." seongje's head is high as he stops himself from looking at you, holding back just barely.

"we were just talking, though? i was being nice to him," you know the concept of being nice was foreign to seongje, but why was he so worked up?

seongje is silent as he opens the door to his house and slams it shut, immediately pinning you against the nearest wall. your back slams against it and you let out a sharp cry at the sudden pain.

"you don't fucking get it y/n," he snarls at you, "that bastard was seconds away from getting handsy. but of course you're too nice to fucking see it."

"i— i didn't mean to, i'm sorry," you stammer. seongje's face is centimeters from you, and you can smell the scent of nicotine from his breath.

"you don't see it because.." seongje leans in, his nose brushing against yours. his gaze pierces through you as he continues.

"..you're too fucking soft. you see a friend, they see some sweet and easy prey." his hand finds your jaw, holding it in a firm grip. "if one more person approaches you like that, i wont hold back like i did today."

you open your mouth to try and speak, but seongje pinches your cheeks together and cuts you off. "guess i just have you remind you who you belong to, huh?"

in one quick motion, seongje picks you up and brings you in for a bruising kiss. his hands hold onto your thighs tightly before he drops you on the bed.

the bed creaks with your sudden weight, and seongje is over you within seconds. his hands find your hips again, and he tugs you until your clothed pussy is flush against his hard cock.

"you have no clue what you do to me," he groans, rutting harshly against you. the friction feels so good, but it's not enough and you both know that.

"seongje," you whine, pulling him down for another kiss. his hands skillfully take both his and your pants off, and he starts rutting against you again—this time with no layers in between.

"you're fucking dripping for me, sweetheart," seongje mutters as his thumb travels down to find your clit. you gasp sharply as he roughly thumbs at it, hands scrambling at his back.

"ready?"

that's all the warning you get before seongje slots himself inside you in one thrust, leaving you no time to adjust. the stretch is deliciously painful, and tears start to well up in your eyes as seongje starts with a brutal pace immediately.

"it's too– too much! seongje–" you cry out, throwing your head back in a mix of pleasure and pain. seongje grins, leaning in to mark up your neck.

"you're so tight around me baby, like you were made for this. the perfect fit around me," seongje groans into your neck, nipping and sucking dozens of hickeys all over.

when the pain subsides, you can barely form coherent sentences. there's no room for you to breathe, not with seongje's cock pounding into you almost every second.

"no one else can fuck you better than me, isn't that right?" seongje detaches from your neck and talks directly into your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. you nod faintly, hoping that'll satisfy him.

seongje notices the lack of response and pauses briefly, flipping you over and resuming his pace. this angle forces him deeper, and you wail as seongje abuses your cervix.

"you're mine, only mine. got that?" seongje breathes out. "say it, baby."

"'m y-yours," your voice is muffled by the sheets as you stutter it out. seongje doesn't seem too pleased as a sharp sting begins to bloom on your ass.

he chuckles as you flinch from the sudden impact, "that's all you've got? try again."

"i'm yo–yours seongje–!" you choke on his name as he spanks you again, heat flaring across your skin.

"too cockdrunk to even say it properly?" his palm soothingly rubs against where he hit you last, but you know it's all a ruse. another hit has a fresh cascade of tears running down your face as seongje laughs cruelly again.

"one more chance, baby. you've got this, i know you can do it." seongje's voice is mocking as he thrusts harder, as if he already knows you can't do it.

your voice catches before it even leaves your throat. you can’t get it out. your lips part but nothing comes out. your brain is hazy from the sting and the heat and him.

“i’m only yours, s–seongje—please—”

your words collapse under the weight of it all. it’s not even a full sentence. just pieces, broken up by the way your body’s shaking, by the grip he’s got on your hips, by the ache building deep in your gut.

at first it's silent. the only sound you can hear are your ragged breaths, and the wet squelches from where seongje slams into you with no reprieve.

but then you hear it, a quiet sound he makes when he’s pleased with you. a laugh, low in his chest.

"that's what i thought." his voice is slightly deeper, and you can hear the satisfaction in it. "good girl, y/n-ah."

seongje grips your hips again, and you can tell he's planning something. theres no time to dwell on it though, because the knot in your stomach is growing tighter and tighter by the second.

"gonna let everyone know who you belong too? who fucks you the best?"

you nod vigorously as your hand reaches down to circle at your clit, but seongje swats it away. "stay there and take what i give you."

his hand slides down between your thighs in a practiced circular motion with no mercy. your back arches further, and you're so close.

your hips jerk, helpless against the pressure. your moans are getting higher, faster and you’re almost there, barely holding on.

"come for me, sweetheart."

it comes crashing down all at once. your walls threaten to squeeze shut around seongje, and you're crying out his name so loud the neighbors definitely hear it. there's nothing in your mind except for seongje, seongje, seongje—

your thighs twitch as you feel ropes of his release paint your insides, and your arms lay limp next to you. you distantly feel something warm wiping at your entrance, but you're too worn out to properly react.

then, seongje pulls you into his chest. his arms are wrapped around you, with one hand stroking your hair.

"love you," you mumble, dozing off.

"love you too, baby."

fin

a/n i rlly rlly hope this was okay 🙇🙇 this is more on the filthy side rather than fluffy.. i'm sorry 😭

[hearthmistress]

i'm sure this has been articulated before and probably better, but i can't stop thinking about the fact that the main reason buddie fans hate Tommy (outside from the fact he is blocking their ship from becoming "canon") is because Tommy is getting the Eddie storyline they want. Or rather, the fandom idea of Eddie is being played out with Tommy's character arc.

This really clicked with me after I watched a nearly 4hr 9-1-1 recap youtube video created by a buddie fan. I genuinely think (the buddie of it all and their view of Tommy aside) it's a great video and worth a watch! Really articulates what makes 9-1-1 fun and lovable, the issues the show has (especially with copaganda), the bad writing with certain characters and character plot arcs, and genuinely had a lot of points I agree with/have been saying myself since I started watching 9-1-1. Even the buddie of it all, I could get on board with because I like watching people argue why they ship something - I don't have to agree with it or like the ship to be interested.

My main issue with the video (and why I can't stop thinking about it) is how the creator viewed Tommy and how (perhaps purposefully) bad-faith they have interpreted his actions towards Buck. Again, I don't care if someone doesn't like Tommy or has no strong opinions of him, but I prefer people's dislike to be based on reality and/or what the character actually did, and not through the rose-coloured glasses of a shipper lens.

When the creator of the video brought up Tommy as Buck's love interest, they mostly said they were rather cool on him and that we don't know a lot about him yet to really know the character (and given that this was published before S8, that's fair). However, they bring up the cafe scene in S7E05 and Tommy's "mmmm, not like that" line as "evidence" that Tommy's indifferent to Buck and this is where buddies and general audiences separate into different realities, because this moment is a) clearly supposed to be funny/romcomsque and b) demonstrates Tommy's dry wit and, dare i say, sassiness - a trait applauded by buddie fans with Eddie (and they use as proof as his "queerness") but condemned when a canonically gay character does it. The video creator themselves mentions numerous times Eddie's sassiness as a positive trait (and to be fair, they also mention that it's sort of Eddie's default trait because he's a nothingburger character - which I agree with), but when Tommy does it, it suddenly demonstrates that a character doesn't really like/care for their love interests (which given what we know about S8.... hilarious in hindsight, holy projection batman).

Anyways, that really clicked into place for me that the (outsized) outrage buddies have towards Tommy is because he is canonically demonstrating traits they want to see in Eddie/how they view (fandom) Eddie.

Tommy as a character is:

-a deeply closeted gay man when we first meet him, who participates in toxic masculinity as a means to protect himself and/or because he can't (or is unable to) fully articulate himself as a queer person.

-alluded to have been raised in an environment where he had to hide his queerness (as discussed specifically in S7E10 with 118 being a "regressive place" when he was there). Is pressured by both his biological family and his work "family" to maintain a certain idea of manhood, and by extension, stay closeted. Also served in the army, an institute infamous for being homophobic, and undoubtedly influenced his ideas around duty and manhood.

-unable to maintain relationships with women, even serious long-term ones as with Abby, and uses these relationships (either subconsciously or not) to maintain the illusion of his heterosexuality.

-tied with "traditional" masculine interests/hobbies/institutes. He was in the army, he likes monster trucks, fighting, craft beer, flies a helicopter, etc. He seems, on the surface, a guy's guy.

-now canonically out and was/is in a relationship with Buck and has served, vitally, as a closet key to Buck, ensuring that two firefighters on the silly weewoo show are, in fact, together.

-very clearly invested in Buck's well-being, both within and outside of relationship. Has demonstrated numerous times "going out" of his way to put Buck's emotional needs first and to value Buck in way others (Eddie) do not.

-one half of a groundbreaking queer relationship. Cannot be repeated enough, the fact that the show has a main character (beloved by fandom and the general audience alike) come out as queer in a long-running mainstream show is groundbreaking. The fact that Tommy is one half of this ship is so important both to the show and Buck's entire arc. It is important and groundbreaking.

These are almost all things/traits that buddie fans argue make Eddie queer and/or why buddie would be a groundbreaking ship. Which sure, but the reality is the showrunners, the actors, the show itself have maintained Eddie is straight, and (as articulated by the creator themselves in the video) most of what they project onto Eddie comes from the fact he is poorly written rather than because the show was planning on making Eddie gay in the first place.

I read through numerous comments for the recap video and for a following video from the same creator about whether they had been queerbaited (I wish buddies learned the term "ship-tease" because if one half of your ship is canonically queer, no you cannot be queerbaited and dismissing Buck's canonical queerness just because your ship is not happening is, uh, a problem), and numerous times buddies have mentioned how "groundbreaking" buddie would be as if all the things they mention about the ship hasn't already happened with Bucktommy on the show. Their issue is not that the show refuses to do this (and the amount of comments I read that said things like 'they'll never make buddie happen because the network is too conservative'.... for a show with a black lesbian relationship from season 1 and has already made half of your ship queer and made him fuck nasty on screen with his male love interest.... the mental gymnastics is too much), but the fact that the show HAS already done this, just not with their blorbo of choice.

My closing thoughts (for now, I have MANY!) is that in the follow up video about being "queerbaited by 9-1-1", numerous comments asked "if Eddie isn't gay, that would mean he's just emotionally immature, terrible to women, and not a great friend or parent. He would be the worst character on the show".... and like yes, that's the real character you are choosing to stan, not the fanfic one! I fully understand that Eddie is blank canvas for most buddies to pin their hopes and dreams onto (again, because he is poorly written and is essentially a nothingburger character), but no matter how you twist each bucktommy interaction, make bad-faith interpretations, project things that never happened onto Tommy, in the end, Eddie is still a straight boring character. And Tommy is the one who is canonically living out the character-arc you so desperately want to see on the show.

[yoiisa]

𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 #𝟑 ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

hurt/comfort, kaiser sucks but he's trying his best (my boy ( ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡ ), reader has a tough time, slight angst with fluff

thinking about how michael kaiser would comfort you after seeing you cry for the first time!! ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

you genuinely don't know how it started, but somehow kaiser became your boyfriend, and you couldn't be happier about it, really. for all his bravado and ego, he did care about you in his own way. he made sure you had everything you could ever want and constantly messaged you, vying to be the center of your attention.

that being said, the two of you were still relatively early on in your relationship, and there were sides he hadn't fully seen yet . . . such as you crying.

the day started out rough, but as time went on, it only worsened. by the time you got home, you were so drained. you toe off your shoes and put them on the rack, before slumping back against the door. you slide down to the floor, before hugging your knees to your chest. you rest your head on your knees and sigh, finally having a chance to relax.

you stay like that for who knows how long, at one point falling asleep entirely. you wake up with a pain in your neck to your phone buzzing. its vibrations carry it across the floor away from you, and your heart stops when you see that it's kaiser.

you jump for it, scooping it up in your arm and hitting the green accept button.

"hello?"

"y/n! where the hell are you?! you were supposed to be here an half an hour ago!"

"f-for what?" you ask, your voice tiny.

"for what- seriously. this girl," he grumbles. "our date! did you seriously forget?"

"o-oh, right. I'm so sorry michael, i-i'll get ready now and head straight over-"

"don't bother, the mood's gone. if you didn't care enough to come on time, well then i don't care either. do what you want," and with that harsh statement, he hangs up.

you stare off into space, feeling your heart grow heavier in your chest. you look over at your phone to see the two other missed calls from kaiser and the messages asking where you were and if you were okay.

you can't help the tears from burning in your eyes, before they finally fall, racing down your face. it's not that you meant to forget, but you'd just been so tired and you were already so upset. now you've upset your boyfriend too.

you type out a i'm sorry and send it to him, before setting your phone on the kitchen island and walking to your bedroom. you collapse onto your bed cry yourself to sleep, not bothering to properly eat anything or change out of your clothes into something more comfortable.

when you wake, someone's shaking your shoulder. you glance over your shoulder and in your hazy state, can't tell if you're dreaming your boyfriend or not. kaiser is sitting on your bed, his eyes peering down at you with an expression you can't read.

you squeeze your eyes shut and turn back the other way, curling more into yourself. however, kaiser's hand on your shoulder tightens and he spins you onto your back. he leans over you, a hand on either side of your face. his eyebrows pinch together as he glances over your face. you must look horrible right now, and it's just making you feel worse.

"i'm sorry," you squeeze out. "i'm really sorry i forgot about our date. i'll make it up, i promise."

"shut up. have you been crying?" he asks, his voice tight. when you meet his cerulean eyes, your's sting again. your bottom lip trembles and kaiser's breath hitches. "why are you crying?"

"misha . . . " you sob. your arms go up and wrap around his neck, pulling him down to you. your tears wet the crook of his neck. "i had such a bad day. by the time i got home i just kinda collapsed on the floor and fell asleep. i didn't-"

kaiser shushes you. he turns onto his side and cradles your head in his hand, brushing your hand over his hair.

your stomach growls and he asks, "have you eaten anything?" when you shake your head, he sighs and pulls back. he wipes your tears and sighs. "i'll . . . i'll get you food. it'll only get worse on an empty stomach."

"but-"

he cups his hand over your mouth and presses his forehead against yours. "shut up. just . . . you had a hard time. it's fine. forget about the date. i'm over it."

his voice becomes strained as he stares into your teary eyes. he shakes his head before practically forcing out, "just don't cry, i . . . i can't stand it."

[ohtobeleah]

Hey Leah! How about?: a reader who's a librarian (maybe she works at a nearby to PTMC medical library) and she's known to the students and residents because she helps them/has helped them before. However, she comes in one day because she fell off one of those rolling ladders and Jack is the attending who signs off on her care and falls in love etc.

Thoughts?

Ah! What a fun way of having the reader meet Jack Abbot. That's so innocent and wholesome. 🥹

Jack would be the silent observer type. He'd let his residents do their jobs, workups, assessments and treatment. He'd just…observe, from afar. His eyes would be drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

How do you know all his residents? Did he need to work day shift more often? Wait, what are the odds that you'd be single? Are you free next holiday weeke—?

“Dr. Abbot?” It’s Mel. “We’re happy to discharge, minor concussion but t—”

“Does she have anyone at home for supervision? Few hours for observations wouldn't hurt if the answer is no.” He doesn't miss a fucking beat. You aren't leaving. You can't! Jack hasn't even had a proper conversation with you.

“Oh, I was about to say Y/n was thinking about heading back to the library for the rest of the afternoon.”

Jacks speechless. He just stares at you from across the hall. He's over by the nurses station, observing from a far.

“I'll speak with her.” Is all he says before he moves. His leg is sore, he's walking with a slight limp. Its the weather…it always irritates the skin.

But then, Jacks looking at you, face to face, and he can't form a proper sentence. You're beautiful. You're the woman he sees in his dreams. The woman who came to him in his fever dream of a recovery. It was you, Jack was sure of it.

“Sorry, what?” He barely speaks, but its enough to have him waking up from the fantasy realm he wondered off to.

“It's a minor concussion, I've had worse migraines if I'm being perfectly honest.” You smile from your place in the bed. “Really, I just won't claim any ladders.”

“Uh, yeah—yeah sure, uh, lets get you all sorted and on your way.” Jack panicked. He doesn't panic on a bad day, yet here he was…panicking.

“What’s going on in here?” Its Robby. He's here to pick up something from his locker on the way out of town. Jack can't breathe. He fucking knows Robby is about to say or do something to completely mess this— “I hope our friendly neighbourhood librarian isn't being too much of a hassle here Jack.”

“Just leaving,” You speak. “I fell off the very ladder you gave me shit for last week.”

It all happens so fast. Jack can't stop it. He deserved it, however. Because of Robby wasn't wrong.

“Ah, well I'm sure Dr. Abbot here made sure to rule everything out, if he took a moment to stop planning how he's going to propose to you, that is.”

“So not cool man!” Jack sighs. He's turning beet red.

“Give him your number so I don't have to.” Robby sends you prayer hands before leaving. You just smile, slowly reaching for your phone.

“I’m really sorry about that.” Jack tries to offer up some of that barely resembles an apology. You just shrug.

“Hey, this saves me from having to find a way to end up back here.”

[lampochkaart]

As promised, here's more of Cyborg AU. First post here

This time I'll tell about some other characters. Specifically Kaito's friend group

Kokichi wanted to meet Kaito's friends. Momota never took Ouma with him anywhere before, but after he found out that Kokichi is intelligent, he figured he might, since now he knew that Kokichi isn't glitchy, he was just being an asshole. So there's not much of a risk of Ouma intentionally blowing their cover (because it's also in his interests). But they both agreed that Kokichi should pretend to be human to avoid any questions. And it wouldn't even be a problem, since Bond's imitation program is the most advanced. It's extremely hard to spot Bond and their processors have advanced protection so they can't really be detected by humans or other cyborgs (except more advanced models of Bond).

So it seems like everything should go without a problem. But here's a thing. Maki is actually also a cyborg. DEX. She's been masking pretty well, everyone just found her just a little weird at times. But Kokichi immediately detected her, because unlike Bond's DEX's processor isn't very hidden. He "sees" her but she doesn't "see" him.

He tested a little with some vague prodding questions to see everyone's reaction and realized that nobody knew. Somehow Maki was hiding among this friend group and none of them had a clue.

That already complicated the situation. But what's even worse is that Shuichi's uncle is working in DEX company. And Shuichi is studying cybernetics and unofficially helping him with some work.

(Shuichi is the reason how Kaito figured out that Kokichi is a cyborg when he first met him. Momota just asked him a test question as a joke because Ouma was acting weird. And Kokichi... answered.)

So this group is a ticking time bomb and Kokichi somehow ended up with the remote to blow it up. And now he has to decide what to do: if he should press the button and get it over with or if he should wait until it's gonna inevitably blow up on it's own.

Oh, and there's also Kaede. She's just vibing, unaware of what a disaster their group is.

So that's their group. What a mess.

Also a bit more facts about this AU.

In this AU all the characters are a bit older than I usually hc them. They're probably around 21-22. But Kokichi and Maki are a bit different.

Kokichi is around 3 years old (since the date of his creation) which is pretty old for Bond. He worked on a long multi-staged mission consisting of a lot of different short missions that involved him pretending to be human and being around a lot of people pretty much all the time. This is what helped him develop consciousness faster. So his mental age is probably 18-20

(In canon it usually takes longer to gain consciousness and develop it, but it's my AU so I don't caaaare)

Maki is around 5 years old, which is a little bit old for DEX, but it's still a relatively normal age. Depending on the profession of course. In this AU she also worked as an assassin for an organization, she had some people of the higher rank assigned as her owners. How she escaped is similar to another character from the books. The ship that she was on crashed and she took that chance to escape during the chaos. For a while she was hiding from most people, trying to learn how to act like a human. Practiced on homeless people and random strangers who, luckily for her, in most cases just thought she was a weirdo. People from the organization are still considered as her owners, so she has to be very careful to never ever meet them again.

Her mental age is probably 20-21. Her consciousness developed slower than Kokichi's (not that much interacting with humans, especially not imitating a human), but she had more time.

In this AU Kaito is training to be a pilot. He has a license to pilot a flyer (a vehicle used on the territory of the planets), but he wants to become a pilot of a real space ship. The emblem on "Kokichi's" hoodie is the emblem of Kaito's academy (or whatever it's called).

After some time of having Kokichi ruining his life Kaito figured that if something would happen it's better for him to have a documents on Kokichi to avoid being in trouble. So he asked Miu for help (again) and asked her to make fake documents for Ouma. Naturally it wasn't easy to convince her but eventually she agreed.

The problem is. They can't put in the documents that Kokichi is Bond. And he could never pass as DEX, even from very far away. And he also doesn't look like Mary too, since they mostly look like some kind of caregivers.

Kokichi can only roughly pass as an Iren. Which is DEVASTATING for Kaito, but it's not like he has other options. Kaito is not willing to present Kokichi like that to anyone, but he still needs to have some kind of documents in case of an emergency.

Miu is Kaito's hacker friend who he asked for help with all the cyborg thing. She's a great inventor and a good hacker which is why Kaito asked for help her specifically. She makes fun of him constantly, but still they're pretty good friends so they know they can rely on each other. And even if she's gonna curse Kaito all the nastiest words possible, she's still gonna help him.

...But would she be willing to hack the subordination program of a cyborg giving him freedom to disobey any orders and do whatever he wants? That's a good question..........

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Pre-s4 Steddie

Steve tried to ignore the burning jealousy when Robin started talking about Eddie, too. Apparently, they've been hanging out lately as well. It's all about Eddie. He couldn't help the knot that formed in his chest. He was more like Robin and Dustin, he could give them a stimulating conversation that Steve couldn't. What if they both decided that Eddie was better for them than Steve? He couldn't stop the fear of them leaving him like his parents and he hated his parents for abandoning him so much, leaving him with this fear. Rationally, he knew they wouldn't do that, and yet. . .

"So, anyway, Eddie was saying - "

Steve slammed a video tape down on the counter.

"Enough about Eddie!" Steve exclaimed.

"Jesus, who pissed in your cereal?" Robin asked.

"Just - can we go five seconds without talking about Eddie?" Steve asked. "Eddie, this! Eddie, that!"

"I really think that you'd like him once you get to know him," Robin said. "You don't have to follow those stupid archaic high school - "

"That's not what this is about," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Then what, pray tell, is it about?" Robin asked.

"First Dustin is completely obsessed to the point where he just barely hangs out with me anymore and he just spends all of his time hanging out with Eddie, bumming rides off of him, and I don't see him anymore. I don't know, I thought that Dustin was like a little brother to me, you know, and why do I even care what he thinks of me? And now, you're doing the same thing," Steve said, waving his hands. "I know that it's stupid but I -"

"You're afraid of being left behind," Robin said. "Your parents really did a number on you, my platonic love."

"You think that I don't know that?" Steve scoffed. "I hate feeling like this. It's just that you have a lot more in common with Eddie, you and Dustin both."

"Hey, we may not share the same interests but we share the most important thing: shared life experience. You, me, Dustin, Erica. . .Scoops Troops for life, remember?" Robin asked. "I'm far too invested in you, dingus. You're my platonic soulmate, my other half. . .someone is going to have to die before they rip you from my hands."

"A little dramatic," Steve scoffed and wiped his eyes. "But I love you, too."

"We will always need you in our lives, but we want Eddie in there, too," Robin said. "There's a way to fix this, you know."

"How?" Steve asked.

"You get to know, Eddie, too," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "You're both ridiculously jealous of a kid who once tried to keep an interdimensional monster as a pet. Not that Eddie knows that but still. . .that kid has plenty of room in his heart for the both of you. I have plenty of room."

"Eddie's jealous, too?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, big time," Robin said, rolling her eyes.

He didn't know why it made him feel better that Eddie was jealous. Maybe because it meant that Dustin was talking about Steve to Eddie as much as he was talking about Eddie to Steve. It was part of the reason why he agreed to get to know Eddie and meet him with Robin at the new diner in town after school. Of course, Eddie's van had broken down in the school parking lot. Steve and Robin walked over to him, Steve's hand tightly in hers as she had insisted. She was just as clingy to him as he was to her.

"Need some help?" Steve asked.

Eddie pulled his head out from under the hood. He glared.

"If I wanted King Steve’s help, I'd ask for it," Eddie said.

Robin glared at him before reaching out with her leg and kicking him.

"OW! Damn, okay, sorry. This piece of shit is - ," Eddie said and then slammed the hood. "You know what? Fuck it! You can just sit here and think about what you've done! What can I do for the lady Buckley and his highness, the King of Hawkins High?"

"Do you want to go out with us this evening?" Robin asked.

Steve closed his eyes with a sigh, trying not to laugh as Eddie choked on his saliva. He opened them again. Did she have to ask it like that?

"I thought you - I thought you were - ," Eddie said and then he looked at Steve. "What the fuck's going on?"

"Yes, he knows I'm a lesbian. He's the first one I've told," Robin said. "I'm holding his hand because he's got abandonment issues because of his shitty parents and I've got issues because we almost died together in Starcourt. We're like the creepy twins from the Shining."

"Yeah, thanks, Robin, for telling him that I've got mommy and daddy issues," Steve said rolling his eyes. "And really, with the twins again?"

"You're welcome," Robin beamed.

"And could you make me sound more like a puppy?" Steve asked.

"Don't worry, big boy, you're not the only one with mommy and daddy issues," Eddie said, winking at him.

Eddie was definitely a lot more approachable now that he wasn't uttering swear words like he was a cartoon character. He was twirling a lock of hair around his finger, grinning so wide that his dimples were showing, and big brown eyes were shining with amusement, looking between the two of them. It was actually kind of adorable the way his eyes fluttered at him.

"Yeah, well. . .," Steve said and struggled to find something to say.

"And I'd say you were more like a doe than a puppy with those eyes of yours," Eddie said. "You definitely have some Bambi like qualities."

"Oh, man, don't bring up Bambi. I cried when they shot his mother," Steve said, groaning.

Eddie's smile got soft and sweet. He clapped his hands together as he turned to Robin.

"Okay, you've sold me, Buckley, I will dine with you this evening," Eddie said and pointed his thumbs at himself. "This princess is going to need another carriage to get to our destination."

"I've got a car. You can ride with us," Steve said.

"And they say chivalry is dead," Eddie said with a special smile in Steve's direction.

"Don't cream your pants, Munson, it's just a car ride," Steve said and found himself blushing when Eddie grinned wickedly at him.

Eddie went to open his mouth but was interrupted by Dustin walking up to them.

"You guys are talking, awesome! I told you both that neither of you was bad. See, I knew you'd take my advice," Dustin said and paused. "Steve, if you and Robin aren't dating then why are you two holding hands?"

"Because Keith tried to put us on different shifts again so we decided to superglue our hands together in protest," Steve said seriously.

"Woah. . .really?" Dustin blinked and Eddie snorted.

"Although. . .it's not a bad idea," Robin said, thoughtfully.

"No! Why can't Robin and I just hold hands platonically without getting the third degree?" Steve asked. "And it's a terrible idea, Robin!"

"I don't understand why you don't want to date Robin," Dustin said. "Just because she's a nerd - "

Eddie took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, watching the scene unfold before him in interest.

"That has nothing to do with it," Steve said. "Hell, I'm more interested in dating Eddie than I am Robin!"

Eddie coughed and accidentally inhaled his cigarette, choking on it. Steve acted quickly and came up behind him. He pressed his hands to Eddie's stomach and began performing the Heimlich maneuver to help him. Eddie coughed up the cigarette, holding his chest. Steve patted his stomach gently and moved back.

"Careful, those things will kill you," Steve said.

"Jesus," Eddie said, looking at him in awe.

"Okay. . .I didn't know guys were an option for you," Dustin blinked.

"Well, not all the time," Steve said and Robin's head snapped to look at him. "I like women. It's just sometimes men grab my attention, it's just something that guys don't talk about."

"Uh, straight guys don't think like that," Robin said.

"Yeah, they do. It's just one of those unspoken guy things," Steve said. "I told you about this, didn't I?"

"No, no you did not!" Robin exclaimed.

"I like women but sometimes men grab my attention," Eddie smirked.

"See!" Steve exclaimed and pointed at Eddie.

"But then again, I'm not straight," Eddie said.

"What?" Steve asked and looked at Eddie.

"Bisexual," Eddie said and wiggled his fingers at him. "Hi, that's me."

Steve stared at him for a minute before shrugging.

"Huh. Cool, guess that's me, too," Steve said. "You coming with us to eat, Dustin?"

"That's all you have to say when you realize you're not straight?!" Robin exclaimed.

"Yeah, I mean, what's the big deal? I mean, I already knew about it. Now, there's a name for it," Steve said.

"My God, man," Eddie said shaking his head at him. "I'm super jealous as hell. I freaked the fuck out."

"I mean, before everything. . .before Nancy, Jonathan. . .before meeting Robin and Dustin I think I would have freaked out about it," Steve said. "But I learned that there are worse things in this world than being queer. Plus, Dustin and Robin, the rest of the kids. . .they make me feel more comfortable being myself than anyone ever did."

"Damn," Dustin cursed, sniffling. "I think I have something in my eye."

"You know, I think it's the same thing that's in my eyes," Robin said as she rubbed her eye.

"Let's go fucking eat already before I mount your babysitter right here in the parking lot," Eddie growled.

"Well, that image ruined the moment," Dustin scowled. "Thank you, Eddie."

"Glad I can help."

Steve laughed and shook his head before waving them over to his car. Just as he opened the passenger's side door for Eddie, Dustin tried to get in. Steve pushed him back.

"Woah, hey, what are you doing?" Steve asked.

"Getting in the front," Dustin blinked. "It's my turn. Robin had it last time."

"No, that spot is reserved for Eddie," Steve said. "He's the guest of honor."

Dustin stared at him for a moment before conceding and sliding into the back seat with Robin. Eddie moved towards the seat and smiled at Steve.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"Anytime," Steve said, his heart beating faster the longer Eddie looked at him.

"You know, I'd show you just how much I appreciate it but I left my scrunchies at home and I don't want to scar our boy," Eddie whispered, leaning in.

Steve swallowed and he could feel himself getting hotter.

"I don't want to be scarred either," Robin said, poking her head through the seats. "You're terrible at whispering, Munson."

Eddie cackled and slid into the passenger's seat. As soon as they peeled out of the parking lot, Robin and Dustin started whispering together in the back.

"You know, I was jealous of you," Steve said. "You're all that Robin and Dustin talk about. I thought they'd end up choosing you over me because you had a lot more in common with them."

"Well, that's just stupid," Eddie said. "You're all they talk about especially Dustin. He like hero worships you, man, and I didn't get it until today. Steve Harrington, has great hair, is rich, and good with the ladies, but to top it all off he's a good dude? Nope, no way. I was super jealous as hell. . .still am."

"Didn't even make it out of the parking lot before I changed my mind about you," Steve said. "I'm glad I did, though."

"Me, too," Eddie said shyly.

Suddenly, Dustin popped his head out in between the seats, startling both Eddie and Steve.

"Turn around, look at what you see. . .," Dustin sang.

Steve groaned and shoved Dustin's head back with his elbow. Dustin hissed.

"What was that about?" Eddie asked in amusement.

"You don't want to know," Steve and Robin said.

"You know, I just realized that I promised my mother that I would eat with her tonight," Dustin said suddenly. "Can you drop me off at home?"

"Yeah, sure, okay," Steve said.

After dropping off Dustin at his house, Robin moved to the middle seat and leaned forward.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to have to do this another day because I've suddenly had - well, you know - my monthly!" Robin exclaimed and then cursed herself. "Damn!"

"You've suddenly had your monthly?" Steve asked doubtfully.

"Are you calling me, a woman, a liar?" Robin asked.

"I would never," Steve said, rolling his eyes at her antics. "Yeah, I'll drop you off at home."

"Thank you," Robin said.

Steve pulled up to Robin's house and watched her slide out.

"You're a terrible liar, Buckley," Steve said.

Robin flipped him off and skipped off into her house. He pulled away.

"How did you know she was lying?" Eddie asked.

"Because we spent all of last week, when we weren't at work or she wasn't at school, glued to her bed eating chocolate ice cream, and watching all of her favorite movies with a huge heating pad stuck to her stomach," Steve said.

"I guess it's just the two of us," Eddie said. "It almost feels like a date."

"What do you mean? It is a date," Steve said and paused, holding out his hand.

"Hell yeah!" Eddie exclaimed and took Steve's hand. "Goddamn, baby, your hand is huge! . . . Nope, not complaining at all."

He spent the rest of the car ride playing with Steve’s hand, mesmerized by it, as he lined his hand up with Steve’s. Eddie ran his finger down the lines in his palm, trying to read his future as though he were a Psychic. Steve could already see it, as Eddie spoke wildly about his future in a dramatic accent, and they hadn't even been on a date yet. Yeah, Steve was done for.

[devilishvalentine]

OP forgive me for I'm about to go insane over this masterpiece—

The unholy hyena cackle I made when I read the warning ☠️

"Jason having a bad time" is an understatement like holy shit our boi's really going through it. And I'm in love with the way you wrote the hurt/comfort here, especially in Reader's POV. The fact that she can read him so well is amazing and how they speak without words, just knowing the meanings of each gesture they make for each other to understand– IT'S ABOUT THE TRUST. THE UNDERSTANDING. THE LOVE. THE TYPE OF DYNAMIC THAT GETS ME F E R A L

"His hands, that could break bones but also mend and heal the most broken parts of yourself.

Despite what those hands either curled into fists or holding a gun could mean to other people, they’re precious to you. And one of the many wonderful parts of him. To you, they mean soft caresses while you’re laying in bed. They mean warmth when winter comes and he rubs them against your arms. They mean comfort, and safety, as he holds your sobbing body when you break down.

Their roughness both from handling dangerous weapons and using a pan to make you dinner. Jason Todd has a duality that still amazes you to this day, but you love all the multitudes that he contains all the same."

Bro. B r o. AAAAAAAAAAAAA DESCRIBING HIS DUALITY FROM HIS HANDS AND HOW ROUGH THEY CAN BE WITH WEAPONS AND PUNCHING CRIMINALS, AND CONTRASTING IT WITH HOW GENTLE THEY ARE WHEN HANDLING YOU– THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE IT IS BEAUTIFUL, ABSOLUTELY B E A U T I F U L

Don't get me started on Jason holding her wrist.

"Stay."

And I'm gone. I have ascended. My heart is a puddle and my soul is full. The way I MELTED whenever I see a Jason Todd x Reader fic with this bit, Jason begging Reader to stay, even communicating without words but actions???

And the story. Omg THE STORY OF HOW THEY MET?!?!?! IT'S SO ADORABLE AND I COULD PERFECTLY VISUALIZE IT IT'S ONE OF THE CUTEST MEET-CUTE I COULD FRICKIN IMAGINE WITH HIM AAAAAA!!! And the way Reader described Jason when narrating the story, I can legit feel her swooning there bc THAT PERFECTLY DESCRIBED HOW I FEEL ABT HIM!!!!

Just. The amount of trust and love you described between Jason and Reader is amazing.

Also holy shit. Jason my boi. The angstiest hurt in this beautiful hurt/comfort is delicious. The incident that made Jason go through absolute agony and despair left a lot to my imagination. The fact that it haunts him so bad despite Reader's assurances is heartbreaking and I wanna wrap him up in a comfiest blanket burrito and give him a hug and a kiss and some food and water and a hug and kiss and some food and water and a hug–

I couldn't help but think the incident that left him feeling so guilty, depressed and despairing is basically because of Batsis' death. Idk why ( yes I know why, I like seeing my blorbos suffer bc why not >:3 ), but I just imagined that's the case and that's why he couldn't bring himself to tell Reader abt it 'cause it chokes him up (and the agony. I wanted the agony. I just read another angsty Batfam fic and it's the agony.)

Oh and also this:

"You help him get dressed and all the while his fond gaze follows you. He’s sure that the best feeling in the world is being taken care of by you. That sunshine feeling blooming again in his chest. You’re so bright and he’s just so- No. He’s promised that he isn’t going to think like that anymore. At least not more tonight."

At least not more tonight??? Jason. Baby don't make me do a 200+ page Powerpoint presentation abt why you're the light of MY LIFE EVEN WITH YOUR FLAWS AND ALL!!!

Fr tho, reading your fics of Jason Todd here is such a wonderful read and I couldn't help but lose my mind over them like–

Live footage of me reading your fics

Hope you have a wonderful day/night yourself dear author! Sending my best wishes to you!!! 💖💛💜💝💖

The Word of Your Body

Jason Todd x reader one shot

Summary: Jason comes back from patrol, but something is keeping his mind still somewhere out there. You're always there to bring him back and let him know he's safe. At home. With you.

Word Count: 5.8K

Category: Angst-ish because Jason is going through it but fluff because reader is there to comfort him

Warnings: Jason having a bad time

Author’s note: I know, I know, three fics in one year?? Who am I? Jsjksks truly an achivement for me, very happy and very proud hehe. Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my fics, I love you all. That said, enjoy!

It’s really incredible how much one can know about a person just by their body. From the way they move, to how they carry themselves, to the small gestures that they make in their day to day that reflect who they are, to the little telltale signs of how they’re feeling. A smile, a wrinkle between the eyebrows, a twitch of their hand.

And not just the movements of the body but you can also learn a lot from the singularities and marks that one has on their skin. A child with a scrape on their knee from running too fast on the playground. A chef with hundreds of small cuts on their hands from mastering the use of a knife. A ballet dancer with wounded toes. A painter with watercolors under their nails. A piano player with soft and delicate hands.

You can have a lot of information about a person just by observing them, knowing how they move and how their body reacts to things. A flinch from fear at the threat of danger. A shiver at the gentle touch of a lover.

That’s how you immediately know that something’s wrong when Jason returns from patrol. And you don’t even need to see him.

You’re reading in bed when you hear him come in. Always waiting up for him whenever you can. It isn’t difficult for you since you’ve always preferred staying up late rather than waking up early. Unless you have something to do early the next morning, you always wait for him to come home, to come to you, liking to see him as soon as he returns to make sure that he’s made it back to you safe and sound.

You either read or watch something on TV while you wait despite how many times he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him, that you should sleep. And every time you shake your head and say, “And go to sleep without you next to me? Never.” And every time Jason rolls his eyes at your stubbornness while his heart thrums in his chest at how much he loves you and then gently cups your face in his hands and kisses you softly.

And even when you can’t help it and you do have to go to sleep earlier or exhaustion wins over you and brings you to the depths of slumber without warning, Jason always approaches you quietly so as to not disturb you and kisses your forehead to let you know he’s home. If you’re on the couch he brings you to bed, and if you’re already in bed, he settles the covers better over you, just the way you like.

And those times you always smile in your sleepy state and unless he’s injured and needs your help patching him up, you follow semi consciously the sound of his footsteps around the apartment. The sound of the shower as he steps inside to rinse away the Gotham night clinging to him, the sound of rustling sheets as he finally climbs into bed with you, and are finally lulled back to sleep when warmth surrounds you as he brings you into his arms.

You’re no metahuman but you’ve developed a sixth sense for everything regarding Jason Todd. You would be able to easily spot him in a crowd of thousands after having just faintly heard his voice in the distance even if he didn’t have that white tuft of hair singling him out, all your senses zeroed in on him. It’s like your body and mind are always tuned to find him, like tweaking the dial of the car radio to find your favorite station and finding it on the very first try.

You have a master’s degree on Jason Todd and all of his movements, small gestures and twitch of expressions that he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing, you know it all by heart. You know that when the right side of his smirk pulls slightly at his cheek as he’s admiring you doing something mundane, he’s going to kiss you. You know that when he flexes his hands at his sides something is bothering him. You know that he’s going to laugh loudly and wholeheartedly when the sound makes his shoulders shake slightly before making its way up his throat, as if he’s trying to contain it but the laugh is so strong and spontaneous that he can’t fight it. And you know he’s in pain from a bruise on his ribs when he shifts his weight on his feet and a grimace appears on his face for just a second.

That’s how you know that something’s up when you hear him climb through your living room window and his steps don’t sound as if he’s trying to not make too much noise in order to not wake you up in case that you’re asleep, but as if he's trying to make himself as small as possible. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there. You know it because you’ve encountered it before.

Your worry only increases when in the next four seconds that it takes you to find your bookmark between the sheets and place it in your book, you don’t hear him move at all. He doesn’t come find you and he doesn’t call your name.

When you exit the bedroom you find him in the middle of the living room. He just stands there, shoulders hunched, red helmet gripped tightly in hand, head looking down, his hair falling over his forehead.

Something has happened. You don’t know what it is but your first worry right now is making sure that he’s okay. If he heard you come into the room he doesn’t show it. You take a couple of small yet purposeful steps towards him, making sure that they can be heard so that you can alert him of your presence, not wanting to startle him.

But nothing. He stays frozen.

You take a deep breath as your heart clenches at seeing him like this. It’s bad. Whatever has happened is really, really bad and it seems like Jason’s mind is still there. He’s not fully present with you right now.

But you know what you have to do. You have to bring him back here with you. Help him to separate himself, your loving, wonderful, and kind Jason from the horrors that Red Hood has to face every day.

You take another step in his direction. “Jason?” you whisper softly.

He doesn’t react. But he doesn’t flinch either. That’s good. He knows he’s somewhere safe. But he still needs to distance himself from whatever was out there. You finally come to stand in front of him, still not touching him. “Jay?” you try again while assessing him over, trying to pinpoint if he’s injured.

Again, nothing. But the hair that hangs over his forehead moves ever so subtly, almost in an imperceptible way, but you catch it nonetheless. The hair moved because he tilted his head in the slightest of ways. He’s listening to you. Knows that you’re there. You sigh in relief when you see his grip on the helmet lessen too. Good signs.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

He releases a deep breath, slowly allowing himself to let go, the tension that his shoulders held not as tight as before. Leaving his body slightly, leaving him at your mercy. He’s saying, Okay. Satisfied at that and at finding that he doesn’t seem to have any major injuries, you nod. Then, you gently and very slowly take his face in your hands to look at him. His eyes acknowledge you for a split second but then his emerald gaze returns to the floor, and you feel a crack forming in your heart at the utter sadness, desperation, and despair that you find in it.

Still, you feel him melt into your touch at his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re home,” you offer softly.

He closes his eyes in response, reveling in the comfort that you bring him. Next, you take the helmet from his hand and set it on the kitchen counter before moving to the holster with his guns and very carefully unfastening its belt and leaving it all on the table. Helping him that way to step out of the Red Hood persona and everything that claws into it.

“Let’s take a shower,” you say, wanting to keep him informed of your every move. You take his hand and pull him with you towards the bathroom. He lets you guide him, fully trusting you but still not reacting to anything much.

You don’t ask him what’s happened. You don’t need to know. There are things that Jason doesn’t tell you about patrol. And you have no problem with it, knowing that he wants to separate those two parts of his life. But no matter what it is, you always let him know that he can come to you about them, that you’ll listen. That you’ll always be there for him. Always.

The other few times that you have seen him come home like this, slouched over and not talking much, you later learn, either by context from what you hear on the news and the streets, or by Jason directly telling you about it when he needs to let go and finally feels able share it, that the people he was after got away, that someone got hurt, or something like that.

But this time… This time something’s different. You have never seen him as bad as this. At least not from coming back from patrol. And it worries you. It worries you a lot and it kills you that you can’t do anything more than just be there for him. But it seems that that’s all that he needs right now so you settle on focusing on him.

From the guiltiness that hangs over him, tensing his shoulders and keeping his eyes down, and the distress and sorrow that you see in his gaze, you have a feeling that something terrible happened. Something that he couldn’t prevent. He couldn’t save somebody.

You can almost see how he’s replaying it in his mind, the shame and regret swirling in his head until they stiff all of his body. You need to reassure him, make him see how it isn’t his fault, how he did everything he could, and how he gave his all but how sometimes, despite how much you fight it and try to stop it, Gotham doesn’t let you escape the rot that runs through its streets.

Once you two reach the bathroom, you flick on the mirror light above the sink, casting you two in a soft golden light, not wanting to overwhelm him with the overhead one and its strong intensity.

You stand in front of him and help him take off his jacket before taking his hands in yours. He still doesn’t look at you as you take off his gloves. Once they’re gone, you take a moment to examine his hands, and you let out a sigh of relief at seeing that his knuckles aren’t wounded. Your thumbs softly trace the marred skin, small scars and irregular healing adorning his hands. You can’t help but bring them to your lips and press a long kiss to them, closing your eyes, trying to will away all the mental scars that they hold too just by the touch of your lips.

His hands, that could break bones but also mend and heal the most broken parts of yourself.

Despite what those hands either curled into fists or holding a gun could mean to other people, they’re precious to you. And one of the many wonderful parts of him. To you, they mean soft caresses while you’re laying in bed. They mean warmth when winter comes and he rubs them against your arms. They mean comfort, and safety, as he holds your sobbing body when you break down.

Their roughness both from handling dangerous weapons and using a pan to make you dinner. Jason Todd has a duality that still amazes you to this day, but you love all the multitudes that he contains all the same.

You then begin to remove his equipment. The chest armor, the knee pads, and any other protective gear, putting it all on the pile that you started with his jacket and gloves on top of the laundry basket to sort out later. Jason doesn’t move, only doing the movement necessary to help you undress him, like lifting his feet so that you can slip his boots off after having unlaced them.

But still, his gaze remains lost.

You set the boots to the side and get back up to your feet again. You walk around him to get the tub started for a bath, adding some oils and soap. You pass by him to exit the bathroom and grab some comfortable clothes for him after. Most of the time, unless it’s very cold, he normally sleeps shirtless with some sweatpants or even just his underwear during the hotter months, but you know that tonight he needs to feel covered, enveloped, protected. You begin to plan in your mind. A comfortable old shirt and sweatpants will do.

However, before you can even reach the doorframe and begin your walk to the bedroom, a hand wraps gently around your wrist. You whip back around, both surprised and glad at the same time that Jason has finally interacted with you on his own accord, this being the first contact with the outside world initiated by him. Another good sign.

You see Jason’s eyes fixed on your wrist before lifting his gaze to lock with yours.

Stay.

Your gaze softens and you take another step closer to him, almost being chest to chest. You lift your free hand to caress his cheek. “Of course,” you whisper. “I’m just going to grab you some clothes, okay? It’ll be five seconds.”

As you assure him, without realizing it, your thumb traces his cheek in the exact same motion that he has begun to rub soft circles into your wrist. He nods slowly.

“Okay,” you say and Jason releases his hold on you just enough for you to quickly slip to the bedroom. And just like you promised, you’re back just as fast, closing the door behind you so that the steam from the tub can warm up the room, starting to fog up the mirror too, and setting the clothes on the counter. And Jason still hasn’t moved an inch.

You stand in front of him again and delicately grab the hem of his shirt before looking up at him. And you don’t need words to understand each other. Can I?

Jason’s chin tips slightly. Yeah.

You slowly lift the shirt up his body and he raises his arms to help you. Once off, you leave the shirt with the rest of his discarded clothes. Then, with your hands in front of you so that Jason can see what you’re doing and anticipate your movements, you rest them on his shoulders and then gently slide them down his chest, feeling his well-worked muscles and creases from the scars on his skin.

Jason lets out a deep breath, the skin to skin contact grounding him. His eyes never leave you now, following every single one of your actions. And not because he needs to see what you’re doing in order to prepare himself, not anymore, but because you’re the only thing that seems real right now. The only thing tethering him to Earth.

Because to him, you’re his center of gravity. No matter how far he went, both in distance and into the depths of his mind, he will always come back to you.

You lean forward and press a tender kiss between his pecs. Jason shudders, feeling warmth, comfort, and light blooming from the spot that you kissed and extending through all of his body, from his torso to the ends of his limbs. Your touch like the first rays of sunshine after the coldest and longest night of the year in a frozen landscape, melting the frost and bringing everything back to life. Chasing away the Gotham chill clinging to his bones and the rigidness that holds him hostage. Replacing it all with you, just you. The warmth and safety that you provide.

Jason thinks that he wasn’t actually brought back to life all those years ago, just went through some kind of purgatory on Earth again until he reached his very own personal heaven. You. And he still has no idea what he did to deserve it.

Then you help him out of his pants until he’s standing in his underwear in front of you. His back is hunched, making him lean towards you but this time it’s not because of all the negative thoughts hanging over him, but because of the pull that you have over him, your gravity drawing him in.

You round him again to check the temperature of the water in the tub, though this time, Jason rotates his body to follow you, like a sunflower chasing the sun. Satisfied with both the water’s temperature and quantity, you close the tap.

“You want me to get in with you?” you ask, not minding that you have already showered for the day. Jason nods.

You nod to yourself and peel the shirt of his that you wear to sleep off your body, leaving you just like him, wearing only your lower underwear. And even with how exposed you two are, you’re not vulnerable. The air in the room thick not only with humidity but with the intimacy between you two. A kind that can only come from honest love and a complete feeling of trust.

But the air isn’t humming with electricity like in the other situations in which you two find yourselves with as little clothing as right now. Instead, the air is lulling, like a soft and warm wave gently rocking your body when you lay with your eyes closed in the sea. Comforting and lightening.

You discard both your final pieces of clothing and step into the tub, holding a hand out to Jason so that he can step in in front of you. When he joins you, you two finally sink your bodies in the warm and bubble covered water. You lean back at the edge of the tub with Jason between your legs, his back pressed to your chest, his head resting on your shoulder and your arms draped over his chest, all of you surrounding him, enveloping him, protecting him.

Even though the tub is relatively big, considering Jason’s huge frame, it wasn’t exactly meant for two, so you’re a mess of tangled limbs and warm bodies, but you can already feel Jason relaxing against you. You kiss the crown of his head and he finally closes his eyes.

You two lay there for a while, enjoying the hot water and letting it wash your worries away, the scent from the lavender oil that you used hanging in the air, calming your minds. You’re glad to see how the bath is helping Jason to let go of the events of the night, the remaining tension that clung to his body stripped by the water, and the memories from the night relegated to another place as you see the crease on his brows disappear as you draw gentle caresses on his chest.

You grab the shampoo bottle and start to wash Jason’s hair, working the roots and massaging his scalp to help him relax even further. Soon, hundreds of tiny white bubbles replace the sight of his black locks. You work on his hair longer than necessary but you can see how much it’s helping him, his breathing becoming even more deeper and slower. The only sign that he hasn’t fallen asleep, the hand that settles on your knee at his side.

You then rinse his hair, his white streak majestically poking between the black again. With a sponge you start to wash his body where you can reach, his shoulders, his upper arms and torso. When you’re done you maneuver yourself to sit in front of him, facing each other now. As you start to wash the rest of his arms, you see in his eyes that his thoughts are beginning to slip away, the events of the night calling him again. But you’re not having it. Nothing is taking Jason away from you tonight. Your goal, making him focus on you and only you.

“Can I tell you a story?” you say softly, your voice and the soft splash of water at the slightest movement the only sounds in the room.

Jason just shrugs his shoulders slightly. You nod as you focus on passing the sponge over his hands.

“It’s the story of a boy and a girl. About a wonderful boy and a girl who couldn’t believe her luck,” you begin. “One freezing winter afternoon, the girl slipped on some ice and the guy caught her by the waist, saving her from a pretty hurtful fate, though she almost brought him down with her. She apologized profusely as her cheeks warmed not only because of the embarrassment but because the man who’d caught her was the most handsome one she’d ever seen. But in her haste to step back from the stranger to try and save some embarrassment, she slipped on the ice again and he saved her once again.”

Jason can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. Because the story that you’re telling isn’t just any story. It’s your story. The story of how you met.

He wonders how you always knew exactly what to say. Hell, you could just be reading the grocery list out loud and he’d think that you deserved a Nobel Prize in Literature just because it came from you.

The sight of Jason’s smile pulls your lips into one too, and it warms your heart just like his worried gaze had done to your cheeks that very first day.

Both of you remember that day as clear as day, though neither of you could have ever anticipated how important it would be, how it had changed the course of your lives. You can still perfectly recall how he had cleared his throat awkwardly after catching you for the second time and his You alright, miss? How breathy his voice had sounded, as if something had taken his breath away, his heavy lower Gotham accent that had both surprised you and stirred something within you, and how vivid the green in his eyes was.

Just as bright as it is now as you continue the story. The shine that was always there whenever he looked at you.

“She had been pretty awkward, and she still can't believe how she’d managed to pull the kindest and hottest man in all of Gotham, the world even.” Jason snorts and you throw him a look, telling him not to question you because if there is one universal truth in this world—apart from the fact that a single man in possession of good fortune, must be in want of a wife—is that Jason Todd is the kindest and most gorgeous man that you have ever met.

“Though later he would reveal that he had found her nothing but endearing, despite what she might say about her awkwardness,” you continue.

Something about you already drawing him in. But just as quick as it all had happened, the moment passed by, and you two went your separate ways. Though not for long, because some time later, another afternoon, you were walking home when a running figure turned the corner and clashed into you. As you took a couple steps back to stabilize yourself you realized that you were head to head with the Red Hood. Which was strange since the sun was still setting and he had never been seen other than at night.

Jason hadn't planned on starting patrol so early but Tim had tipped him that some guys that he was after were having a meet up and Jason decided to give them a little surprise. Though that plan flew out the metaphorical window in the room of his mind as soon as he saw you again.

He had tried to forget the encounter in which he had saved the most beautiful girl that he’d ever seen from tumbling to the ground, and just as it seemed like he was about to succeed (not really, but at least manage to push the encounter to the back of his mind instead of your soft voice plaguing his every waking moment), he ran into you.

He stared at you bewildered, not believing that it was you, the sweet girl from the ice, and he was at a loss for words.

“Sorry,” you had said and at the sound of your voice he finally came out of his daze and shook his head.

“No need, it was my fault." He tilted his head. “You okay, miss?” You nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at how similar he had sounded to your ice savior, his voice ingrained in your mind. And as much as Jason would have loved to stay there with you for a bit longer and hopefully learn your name, he had to get going, so he apologized again and you watched as he left.

And that should have been it. But somehow, it seemed like the universe had other ideas, crossing your paths later once again. And then one thing led to another and here you were now, sharing laundry and rent. Who would have thought? Certainly not you, when those strong arms caught you and you had no idea that they would become the place where you would feel the safest in.

Home.

Jason keeps listening as you finish recalling the start of your relationship. “And so their adventure together began. The clumsy girl from the ice and the boy that despite his rough exterior, had the gentlest, bravest, most selfless and most beautiful heart that she’d ever come to know.”

You finish the story with an enamored smile on your lips, the sweet memories fueling even more your love for him. A love and reassurance that you hope you have been able to convey in the story.

Jason sits in front of you with a small smile of his own, his heart beating golden light through his body, the love that you put there. His body finally relaxed and at peace, your hands holding his.

But then the smile falls from your lips as you see his eyes glass over. And even before he starts to tremble you pull him into you, wrapping your arms around him, his face hidden in your neck, his own arms snaking around you, holding you tight. And as the first tremors shake his shoulders, the first tears start to fall.

And you hold him through it. Taking everything that he needs to let go of in stride.

Because without the armor that he had built to keep his emotions at bay, swimming in the guilt and regret, once he finally relaxes, accepts that he’s safe and allows himself to be vulnerable, the dam breaks. And all the feelings come tumbling over.

The impotence. The sadness. The failure.

He’s not outright sobbing, the feelings working slowly but surely through him one by one. His body trembles slightly, a few tears falling onto your shoulder and a couple of sniffles here and there.

“I- I couldn’t-” He shakes his head and keeps silent once again. The first words that he’s said since he came home. The cracks in his broken voice forming ones in your heart. It stings more than salt in an open wound. You hold him as tight as you can. It’s like he needs to exteriorize these feelings and his body is allowing him to, but his voice can’t even go further than repeating that phrase over and over again. You shush him gently, letting him know that he doesn’t need to force himself to say anything. You’re here for him and that’s all that matters.

“It’s okay. You did everything you could, Jason. You’re a good man,” you whisper, trying to soothe the torture that he’s submitting himself to. But he shakes his head even more vehemently at your reassuring words and beautiful thoughts of him. Right now they don’t make any sense to him with how much he failed tonight. He’s not brave. He’s not kind. And he certainly isn’t good. He doesn’t know how you can say all of those things about him when he couldn’t-

You feel his internal monologue with how the time between his trembles, tears, and sniffles stretches. He’s lost in his head again. Thinking instead of feeling.

“Jason, hey, no. Stop,” you whisper gently but firmly. You unwind your arms from around him and take his head in your hands, holding his forehead to yours, looking into his eyes though his gaze avoids you.

“You are good. You’re kind, stubborn, funny, brave, determined, sarcastic, gentle, and loving. You’re all of those things. And sometimes things just go wrong and you can’t do anything to prevent them. You didn’t make any mistakes tonight, okay?” You don’t actually think that he can do anything wrong but you keep that to yourself. “Not being able to prevent something bad doesn’t make you any less of a good person.”

You can see how the thoughts race in his eyes.

“Jason. Look at me.” He finally locks eyes with you. “You know I’m not good at lying so listen to me when I say this. Whatever happened tonight is not your fault. You can cry. You should cry. You have to let go of everything that is storming inside you. What I’m not letting you do is convince yourself that you’re not good enough. Because you are, you hear me? You are.” You can’t help the tears that begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“I love you and I’m always going to be here for you for whatever you need, okay?” As a tear slips from your eye, Jason nods and hides in your neck again, letting his tears flow again. Letting himself feel. You envelop him in your arms once again.

“Okay,” he mutters against your skin. You sigh in relief and start to trace long shapes on his back.

You two stay there for a while, until both of you stop crying and his breathing returns to normal. And then you stay a little longer, just holding each other, Jason letting himself get lost in your soft skin and soothing scent, finally, finally, letting the night go. At least for now.

And then even a little longer, until the water turns lukewarm and a chill runs through your bodies.

“Want to go to bed?” you ask softly, threading your fingers through his hair, brushing away the damp strands falling on his forehead.

He nods slowly, lifting his head from your neck. “Thank you,” he whispers. You shake your head and he knows what you mean, You don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything for you.

“Come on,” you say and get up, offering him your hands. He takes them and gets up as well. You let the tub drain and step out of it, Jason following you. You quickly wrap Jason in a towel and then do the same with yourself. When you're done, he takes one of your hands gently and, while looking deep into your eyes, he kisses your knuckles. Thank you.

This time your gaze softens and you rest your hand against his heart. Of course.

After drying off you put your sleeping clothes back on and when you see Jason with the briefs that you brought already on and reaching towards the sweatpants, you gently swat his hand away. Let me take care of you.

He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step away from his clothes. Yes, ma’am.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need me to patch you up?” He doesn’t seem to have any injury but you want to make sure. He shakes his head. You arch an eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s tried to lie to you about that. He nods, extending his arms so that you can examine him, showing how he doesn’t have any wounds. You wait for a beat before nodding.

You help him get dressed and all the while his fond gaze follows you. He’s sure that the best feeling in the world is being taken care of by you. That sunshine feeling blooming again in his chest. You’re so bright and he’s just so- No. He’s promised that he isn’t going to think like that anymore. At least not more tonight.

He follows your directions as you make him sit on the toilet and watches as you comb his hair. But then he can’t help but close his eyes at how relaxed he feels under your care. When you’re done you kiss his forehead and he hums as you run your hand through his hair. When he opens his eyes again, you’re extending a hand to him and he takes it without hesitation.

You turn off the bathroom light and guide him to the bedroom. You climb into bed, your side always the furthest one from the door, no matter where you are, at home, at the manor, or traveling, Jason makes sure of that, and you open your arms, inviting him into your embrace. Jason gets into bed, laying half on top of you, and wraps his arms around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck, your legs tangled. You drape the covers over you both, practically burying yourselves under them and wrap your arms around him, protecting him from anything that could hurt him. Your very own cocoon.

He gives your waist a slight squeeze. I love you. You kiss his hair in return, hugging him even tighter.

And as you hold him tight, the two of you know that what happened tonight out there would still haunt Jason despite all your reassurances. But just as you know that, you also know that you’re always going to be there for him. To love him and care for him. So, for tonight, Jason lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. Each rhythmic thump thump telling him, I got you, you’re okay, I love you, over and over again.

Just like for you with him, your arms the place where he feels safest in. Home.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[rafeys-angel13]

golfing with rafe

summary: you have zero interest in golf but rafe wants you to come with him so you do. and after he takes care of you to say thank you.

warnings: none

writers notes: i had to google half of this stuff. i actually have no interest in golf but i definitely have interest in rafe playing golf 😋 also im too tired to proofread this so there may be mistakes…

rafe is always golfing and you're always complaining about him always going golfing. so he decided to bring you along and show you how fun it can be.

you get ready, tying you hair up in two pigtails. you put on a white skirt and a pink tank top with some pink new balance sneakers with white frilly socks poking out the top.

"seriously? you couldn't have just worn leggings and a shirt or something?" rafe leans against the doorway of the bedroom.

"no, ew" you scoff and shake your head, "i wanted to look pretty, so i wore this..." rafe chuckles and pulls you in by your waist, kissing your head. he pulls one of your pigtails gently.

"you always look pretty, sweet girl..." he smiles softly and your cheeks flush.

"thank you, rafey..." you lean up on your tip toes and peck his lips.

"never a problem, babe..." he squeezes your side, you gaze up at him with eyes full of love. his heart basically melts. he pushes down the urge to keep you at home all to himself and takes your hand.

"come on... lets go.." he pulls you outside to the car, excited to spend some time with you doing something you enjoy you get into the car and sigh.

"do we have to, rafe? why golf?" you pout slightly.

"i always go shopping with you... you have to do some things i enjoy sometimes..." he squeezes your thigh gently.

"i guess... but can we not just like... have some cocktails at the country club bar or something... that seems like more fun..." you twirl your finger around a piece of hair.

"they have drinks on the course, sweetheart. i can get you a pink glittery one if that's what your heart desires..."

"really?" you gasp and smile. as he nods with a smug smirk on his face. he always knows exactly how to convince you.

once you guys get to the course, he explains the different clubs and what you use them for.

"so they're all used for different distances, shot types and situations on the course~" you try to listen, you really do, but all you can focus on is how tight his sleeves are on his big biceps. you nod as he talks, zoning out on his tanned, muscly arms.

"you listening, princess?" rafe chuckles, tugging your pigtail.

"yeah, of course" you smile up at him sweetly, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"don't think you were, sweetheart..." he squeeze you.

"okay, maybe i wasn't..." you giggle and he grabs your chin, pulling your head up to look at him.

"you gonna sit pretty and listen, angel?" he presses a few light kisses to your lips as if to persuade you to listen.

"yeah" you smile softly, easily convinced by his sweet kisses.

"okay... so- let me show you how to swing." he grabs a club and stands behind you, positioning your hips against his, crouching slightly to meet your hips. you let him help you hold the club properly.

"my nails-" you whine.

"christ, they're fine, baby... okay- now when you swing, keep your hips in place until the balls moving okay?" he demonstrates, moving your arms with his.

"okay..."

he sets down a ball and steps away from you.

"hit it, baby girl..." he smirks and looks you up and down, not missing your butt sticking out more than usual.

you swing and hit the ball quite a distance, it doesn't even land remotely near where you were aiming but rafe doesn't need to know that. you squeal excitedly and turn to look at him.

"atta girl" he smirks and pats your butt, "you're a natural, babe"

"yay" you giggle

you guys continue around the golf course, he explains tactics and rules as you go.

"rafe... slow down. what the hell are you even saying? can't i just hit the ball and hope it goes in? that seems much easier..."

"no baby... you gotta know how the rules work and how to plan your swing. here.. look" he takes the club off you and doesn't bother to line up the club with the ball and just smacks it, he turns back to you.

"if you don't plan it, it's shit. and you don't wanna lose, right?" he shrugs and you shake your head.

after starting to listen properly, you're starting to think this is pretty fun. rafe is beyond happy that you're enjoying something he also enjoys.

after a few hours, the sun starts to set and you guys head back home. once you get inside, you take your shoes off and lay on the couch.

rafe joins you, sitting next to you and pulling your legs over his lap.

"i'm tired..." you mumble and rub your eyes, your legs immediately relaxing as he starts to tub your thighs.

"yeah you look a little sleepy..." he says quietly, looking over your expression.

you smile slightly as he moves to your calves and rubs them too. after a few minutes of comfortable silence and him rubbing your legs, he speaks up again.

"come on, lets head to bed..." he stands up and takes your hand to lead you upstairs.

once you make it upstairs, he grabs your favourite pair of pyjamas and stands in front of where you're sat on the bed, lazily taking your hair down and makeup off.

"arms up, angel..." he instructs softly and you lift your arms up.

he takes off your tank top and bra, pulling the silky material of your pyjama top over your head and letting you slip your arms in.

"there you go... good girl. lets get this pretty little skirt off..." he smirks and you lift your hips up to help him slide it down your legs.

he swaps your skirt for the silk shorts with the little bow detail on the waistband.

"thank you..." you smile gratefully, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes yet again.

"was that a yawn, tired girl...?" he chuckles softly as he kisses your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before moving down to kiss your cheek. he pulls the covers back and lays the pillows out how you like it.

"it's definitely time for bed, huh?" he lays you down and pulls the cosy white sheets over you. "there ya go... i've got you..." he smiles and presses a few kisses to your face, stripping down to his boxers and getting into bed next to you.

"sleep tight, sweetheart... thank you for coming with me today... you did well, i'm so proud of you..." he pulls your head against his chest gently.

"i need something in return..." you mumble tiredly.

"anything you want, angel... i'd give you the world if you wanted it, sweet girl..." he strokes your back softly, lulling you into a peacefull, much needed sleep.

"sweet dreams, beautiful..." he kisses your head and tries to get some sleep of his own.

-

[sdmnpact]

Wrong Bag.

George Clarke x Reader

~~~

I ran to catch the tube as fast as I could. I had a meeting to get to and I just can't be late since I'm presenting my ideas to the head of directors. I finally made it to the underground and found a seat. I was huffing like crazy and probably looked a mess but I really don't care. I'm so nervous, I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"Are you okay?" I heard a voice say. I was staring at my phone, not on my phone, just staring at the black screen. I looked over and saw a tall man holding onto the metal bar. He had a brown curly mullet and nicely groomed facial hair. He was quite handsome and I would certainly have been swooning over him if I wasn't a nervous wreck.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine." I lied. The more time that passed, the more panicked I got. "Are you sure? You look pale." He responded. I quickly turned my phone on and put on the camera. My skin was paler than normal.

"It's alright. Thanks for asking though." I said hoping he would leave me alone. As much as I enjoyed a cute guy talking to me, I wasn't in the mood for this right now. "Here." He handed me a water bottle. I was reluctant to take it but he gave me a cheesy grin and I couldn't resist.

I took the bottle and chugged basically the entire thing. "Feel better?" He asked. I nodded, wiping my mouth. "Thank you." I said again. He looked at me as if waiting for a reason as to why I was feeling like this. I gave in and explained the situation to him.

"Oh. Well, I don't know you but from first impression, I think you're gonna kill it." He encouraged. I gave him a crooked smile not believing a single word. "Thanks but it doesn't help my nerves." I told him, drinking the last bit of water. It actually helped a lot. Speaking to him so casually actually settled my nerves a bit as well.

"Okay so I've talked to Arthur- oh? Who's this?" A guy with a curly black mullet and mustache began. His grooming style almost resembled that of the guy I've been speaking to. The guy, who I've just realized I never asked the name of, began 'introducing me'.

"Oh, well you're definitely going to smash it." The black haired guy said in an energetic tone making me chuckle. I thanked him and checked the time on my phone. The guys began speaking to each other about something, I didn't manage to catch much of it but it was something along the lines of a platform roulette and beer drinking.

"Are you still nervous?" The brown haired man began speaking to me again. I looked up at him, just now noticing the beautiful shade of blue in his eyes. "A little. Meeting you has somehow done wonders for my nerves." I chuckled awkwardly. Why did I say that?

"I seem to have that effect on people." He said with arrogance. I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm joking! You see, I am actually very socially awkward and try to find humor in things to lessen the tension." He explained in a matter of fact tone. I nodded, chuckling at how nervous he became. I like this guy, he's funny.

"Anyway, what's your name?" I finally asked. "George, George Clarke." He responded. "Well, nice to actually meet you George, I'm Y/n, Y/n Y/L/N." I said copying his previous response earning a hearty laugh from him. "Are you mocking me?" He faked a hurt expression. "Not mocking, just appreciating." I said back with a smug smile.

We continued talking for quite some time. I got very comfortable with him very fast. This was so strange for me because usually it takes a while to get used to someone but he made it so easy to talk to. I told him about my job and some facts about my life while he explained his. Apparently he's a famous youtuber or as he described, a guy who got lucky being awkwardly funny on the internet. Seems about right for him.

My stop was announced as the next stop and I got up, ready to leave. I completely forgot about how nervous I was until I heard the name of the stop. I didn't want to leave George so soon but I had to rush in order to prepare some more before the big presentation. "Here!" he exclaimed as I made my way towards the doors after saying my goodbyes to him.

"Take my number, just in case you need a good laugh." He smiled widely. My heart fluttered a bit but I shook it off. No time for that right now. I smiled at him and thanked him one last time before I stepped out onto the platform. I held my bag tightly as I made my way up the stairs to the streets of London.

I didn't arrive to the building right away, it was about two blocks over still. I checked my phone, making sure I would have enough time to get there, prepare, and make myself look somewhat presentable. I feel like my clothes are drenched in sweat and my hair is probably a mess since I had to run towards the tube to begin with.

Once I got to the building, I went into the meeting room to prepare. I grabbed my bag and opened it. What the hell? None of my stuff is in here! There was a ton of camera equipment, microphones, and other things I don't know the name of. This isn't my bag!

Crap! What am I gonna do? I don't know whos bag this is! All my papers and my laptop were in that bag. I slumped into one of the many chairs of the meeting room feeling a bit defeated. I sat like that for a minute trying to think. Maybe there's some information on who's bag it is inside.

I looked through every inch of that bag until I found a tag with the name, George Clarke. Of course! I remember he briefly mentioned that he said our bags looked almost identical! I must have grabbed his by mistake. I quickly reached into my pocket for the sticky note he gave me with his number. I dialed it praying that he answers.

"Hello?" His familiar voice said. "George! It's Y/n!" I said enthusiastically, absolutely thrilled that he actually answered. "Couldn't get enough of me, eh?" He said, his voice sounding smug. I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Not that- It's just that I grabbed your bag by mistake and you must have mine! It has all my work in it! Where are you?" I said, worry evident in my voice. "Oh shit!" He exclaimed. I heard rustling over the phone.

"Crap, yeah this is all like business stuff." He said unsure if that's what to call it. "Listen, do you think you could bring me my stuff? I'm already here at the building and I can't go running around London trying to track you down. I'll pay you whatever you want!" I said hoping he would say yes.

"Of course! This is like a real job and it seems really important. Can you text me the location and I'll be there in a few." He responded. I was almost in shambles at how stressful this was but I felt a huge wave of relief come over me as he agreed.

"Thank you. Thank you so much! I'll send it right now!" I replied as we hung up. I sent the message with the address and went to the toilet to make myself look presentable.

A few minutes had passed before I received a phone call from George. "Hey! I'm outside!" He said sounding a bit out of breath. I felt bad that he had to rush over. I'll definitely have to pay him a lot for this inconvenience. "I'll be right out." I said back, rushing towards the doors.

I found him sitting by the huge water fountain in the outside plaza of the building. He had a lime bike and the black haired guy from earlier, I think Bach, was with him.

"Oh my days! You are a life savior! I am so sorry but thank you, you don't know how much this means to me!" I exclaimed basically about ready to attack this guy with hugs and apologies.

"No worries at all! We were pretty close and like I said, this seemed very important." He chuckled extending the bag as I handed him his. I opened it quickly to check if everything was there. He did a good deed but I can't 100% trust him yet. Everything was there and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in.

"Okay, so how much do you think is fair?" I said pulling out my wallet. "Oh! No! Please, I don't need money. It was an accident. I'm just glad we were able to sort this out quickly." He said refusing my payment.

"No seriously! I took time out of whatever you were doing for this and this is only fair." I said. "Do you prefer physical money or maybe online?" I asked wondering what his preference was.

"Seriously, it's okay." He chuckled. "Are you sure? I feel really bad about this." I said hoping he would just take the payment.

"Well, if you feel really bad then how about you let me take you out for dinner?" He said. I was a bit taken aback by this. I didn't expect this from him at all. "What!?" I asked again, unsure if I heard him correctly.

"As a form of payment, how about you let me take you out for dinner when you're free? Or you can take me out if you prefer." He said. My jaw must have been on the floor and he must have noticed.

"Unless you don't want to- I didn't mean to be so forward." He said, his confidence dropping and his shyness creeping in. I smiled widely at him. "I'd love to." I told him. "Great! Just text me, or call me, whenever you're free!" He said enthusiastically. "Okay!" I said matching his tone.

We all said our goodbyes and he left with his friend. My stomach was doing somersaults. Now I was nervous for two reasons.

>>>

He was right. I smashed my presentation, I got approval for my projects and everything went surprisingly well. I just got home and slipped into some shorts and an oversized shirt. I did my nightly routine and got into my comfy bed, just about ready to pass out.

My phone buzzed as my head hit the pillow. I lazily flipped over and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. My eyes struggled to adjust to the bright light but once it did, I saw it was a text message. George had texted me. My heart immediately started to flutter.

Blue = George, Pink = Y/n

Did it go well?

Yes. Thanks to my knight in shining armor.

Oh please, you can't give me all the credit but if you must.

Seriously, if you hadn't given me your number, I was screwed lol

Well luckily I knew something like this would happen.

Really?

No... I just thought you were cute...

That's sweet. I think you're cute too.

Now that's sweet, because I know I'm not

Whatever you say

Well I'll leave you to sleep, I suppose you're exhausted.

I am. But I wouldn't mind talking with someone for a while...

Oh? Am I that someone?

No actually, I was hoping you could give me the number of that guy, Bach, was it?

Ha Ha, very funny. Unfortunately he's taken so you're stuck with me.

:(

Oh calm down, I'm not that bad.

Of course you're not. What guy would race across London to hand some random girl her bag that she clumsily left by mistake.

You're right. I'm amazing. 😎

Okay get off your high horse

Oh! That reminds me, we could ride that high horse on our date!

Date? What date?

Oh please, I saw how excited you were.

Maybe.

So?

So what?

So you were excited!

You can't prove that!

Okay, we don't have to go on a date...

Wait!

I knew it!

Oh whatever! You know what, now I'll go to sleep!

Okay goodnight, sleep tight, dream about our date :)

You're annoying

Yeah but you'll get used to it.

[technicallyastar]

Who is 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 in bed M2L(forsaken)

Most 🔻

There's John, but I don't even really wanna talk about him. He's probably the worst of the worst. Or the best, I guess, if you're into that...

Two Time has some more manic behaviours, and they're really enthusiastic about meeting your hopes and expectations. Most kinks are fine with him, even if they dont have them their self, and they're willing to work with you to play them out in some fashion. Mess doesn't bother them at all, and he is quite used to being patient. Acts that require a lot of prep and setup are all game. (ex. shibari, anal with him receiving)

1x1x1x1 is all the worst parts of shedletsky wrapped up into a sloppy, egotistical package. He enjoys anything that lets them control or degrade their partner, be that a leash, some harsh words, or even just their powerful grip. (There's some risk of dubcon here, because I don't think he's the type to believe in 'changing your mind' once you're in the swing of things.) And she doesn't care if you walk away with bruises--if you can even walk at all. He expects you to know what you're getting into if you come to them, and as long as he gets his blox off (heh.) she's pleased.

Shedletsky has no issues being heavy-handed in the bedroom. He knows his own strength, as well as his partner's limits, and can safely toe the line without crossing. He will happily spank, choke, pin, and throw you around. Similarly, he's not interested in heavier blood or injury play, but he doesn't think earning a few marks during sex is a mood-killer at all. Roleplay isn't really up his alley, but if you want to pretend and just need him to call you some name or other (pet, maid) to make it work, that's fine.

Sweet 007n7 is quite vanilla. He likes a bit of roleplay in the bedroom, but it's low-effort and lighthearted. He's more of a "make love" than "fuck" kinda guy.

Noob is too anxiety-ridden for anything too complicated or kinky.

Guest 1337 is a simple man. He likes to feel pleasure, not pain, and delivers the same.

Taph is also jittery, nervous, and leans towards the vanilla 9 times out of 10. He may have a few deeply-hidden humiliation kinks that stem from uncomfortable experiences in his past. A controlled environment to heal with re-experince, and what have you

(Feel free too comment or request. Please comment. I love the notes and the interactions with this community.)

[accidentcache]

um um um um um um um um um um hi um um um can i um have a love song duet with our baby boy touya pweaaaaaaaaaaassssseeee

emergency contact | pierce the veil / dee’s karaoke night

notes: post war / canon adjacent touya. he’s okay with your name being on a lot more of his things now. mentions of seizures, touya being stubborn. (this is more a bittersweet love, but this is still love <3)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

his suitcase is heavy when it lands on the floor beside him. cat hair scatters on the hardwood at his feet, though the feline is nowhere to be seen. he can't remember the last time he's seen your cat. would he even remember him? would he still curl on his chest like he used to, beg for scraps like touya had always pretended he hated giving him?

the door shuts softly behind you as you step in beside him. the energy is tense-- not the reunion he was thinking he was going to get after coming home from rehab.

of course, the mushy, sappy bullshit happened at the hospital. he hugged you with the arm that wasn't under intense healing, he let you cry tears that he knew he didn't deserve into the ratty t-shirt you had brought him weeks before his official discharge.

he doesn't say much anything else, swallowing a lump that had forcibly formed in his throat. you don't say anything either, but there's a reassuring hand on touya's bicep that allows him the strength to drag his suitcase back to the bedroom.

in the weeks that follow, touya struggles to find his routine now that he's out of rehab and under intense surveillance and medical care. there are good days, and there are bad days. on good days; touya snuggles on the couch beside you, watching whatever crappy television show you decided to put on and eats himself stupid on take-out because he finally has an appetite.

on bad days, he shuts himself out. forgets to take his medication. snaps at you for helping him to the bathroom when he's about to vomit and when he ultimately falls to the floor, he pushes you away.

it's a back and forth. a step forward and two steps back kind of relationship. before the war there wasn't this much tension, but then again touya wasn't trying to relearn mobility in an arm he burned trying to end his family and himself.

on a really bad day, you have to rush him to the emergency room when he starts to tremble violently, throwing up like he can't control what comes out of his body. you're scared-- shaking and crying as you drive, trying to shut out his moans of pain out of your ears. you have to erase how he pleaded your name when the nurses rushed him back, leaving you in the lobby. you weren't on file. he hadn't added you yet.

touya's different after that stint in the hospital. physically, he's gone downhill. he struggles with the treatments. it affects him mentally.

he doesn't know when the switch happens. one day he wakes up next to you-- before your alarm goes off for work. the sun is just barely starting to peek over the horizon, the morning twilight softening the lines of your form under the blanket you had picked out the last time both of you went out together.

he takes his medication and makes coffee, setting out the mug you normally use off to the side for you to fill when you finally woke up.

the day isn't any different. the schedule is still the same, the routine the same as before. touya thinks he must've hallucinated something. he doesn't bring it up to you, nor does he mention anything to his therapist when he goes in for his bi-weekly appointment.

two weeks later, touya suffers from a grand mal seizure. his body almost shuts down on him-- you physically see the color drain from his body. you don't think you'd make it to the hospital in time, and you think the ambulance is running out of time.

when he's loaded onto the stretcher, the paramedics are telling you which hospital to meet them at. you nod through the tears, your body shaking with adrenaline and dread-- when touya's hand wraps around your wrist.

his grip isn't tight, but it's enough to get your attention. it's enough to glue your eyes to his form, even when his aren't even open. his ring finger taps three time on your wrist. he doesn't let go-- he practically hisses when the paramedics try to separate you from him.

they're telling him how only family are allowed, though when they pull him further into the cab of the ambulance he does not let go of your wrist.

touya was never one to think that far into the future. even before the war, especially afterwards. he was in a constant battle with his body, his health, thinking for sure he wouldn't reach 30. he never wanted to tie you down when he knew he wasn't going to get that far in the first place.

one thing he is sure about, is you.

how you’re always there, at the worst of times, and the better of it. how you’re still here. how you have yet to give up on him, even when both of you know he’s nowhere near easy to handle.

and even though that look of pity still flashes in your eyes from time to time, touya has gotten used to it. hell, he’s gotten used to a lot of things he thought he was already used to.

your name is added as an emergency contact to his medical profile before the ambulance reaches the hospital.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[fantasticfourthwingimagines]

Hearts Won't Quit Pairing - Ridoc Gamlyn x Reader Summary - It's the night before the Battle of Basgaith, and it's clear that your confident, playful, funny boyfriend is terrified of what might happen to you and your friends come tomorrow. How can you calm him down though when you don't know what the future is going to bring? Word count - 1.6k Warnings - SMUT 18+ ONLY! Language

“Ridoc . . .” 

He ignored you, his mouth far too busy to respond. 

“Ridoc.” You whined, yanking at his hair to try and get his attention. 

He did look up this time from between your thighs, his eyes narrowed at you like you were interrupting a very important conversation. 

You shook your head at him. “Baby, I can’t.” Ridoc had woken you up constantly over the past few hours, and you had lost track of the orgasms after five. You were so sore and sensitive you weren’t sure you’d even be able to sit on Fiadh for the battle at this point. 

Ridoc must have seen something in your expression, because he pulled away, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against them while you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Fuck, I just need you.” 

You had the feeling that this need had less to do with sexual desires and more to do with the fact that you didn’t know if the two of you would survive the next twelve hours, and suddenly, you understood. “It’s okay,” you whispered, tilting your chin up until you could press a soft kiss between his brows. “I think I know what you need.” 

Ridoc’s fingers tensed as you gripped him and slid him inside of you, burying his face in your neck and letting out a low groan as you did. 

As soon as he was settled, you started running your hands up and down his back. The two of you had never done this before, and it felt . . . even more intimate than normal. You were as connected as you could be, and you had the feeling that was what he needed. “Just stay there, okay baby?” You told him, your voice soft in the quiet of your room. 

His whole body eased on top of yours, and you felt the tremble in his breath as he let it out. For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched - not awkward, but heavy. Until he broke. “I think I’m freaking out a little.” He murmured. 

You let out a breathless laugh, “a little?” 

He nipped at your neck. “I’m supposed to be the one making the jokes.” 

“Let me have my moment.” You teased, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, like that might be enough to keep him here.

Ridoc reached for your hand, and you let him take it, threading your fingers together. They fit like they always did. Perfectly. 

He gave your hand a squeeze. “I’m fucking terrified.” He whispered. 

Your heart cracked open. 

To everyone else, Ridoc was the loud, cocky, rider who never took anything seriously, but not with you. With you, he was this - soft, honest, scared. This was the Ridoc beyond the exterior that cared so deeply it burned, and the thought of losing anyone in this battle had him unraveling.

The worst part was that you didn’t know how to comfort him. You weren’t going to lie to him and tell him that it was going to be okay. You sure as hell wouldn’t feed him some speech about duty and sacrifice. Not now. Not when what you really wanted was to steal him away and never let go. 

“I’m scared too.” You said softly. You had finally gotten the family you had always wanted, and a man that you loved so much it hurt. The idea of losing any of it made your chest feel too small for your heart. If there was a way to avoid it, you would pack everyone up and head back to Aretia. The problem was . . . you’d only be delaying the inevitable. “But we don’t have a choice.” You whispered. “If we don’t meet them here, when we might have a chance-”

He flexed his hips forward, as if he was trying to get even further inside of you, and you let out a soft whimper at the heat it created. “I fucking hate the part you’re playing in this. You’re going to be a target.” 

He wasn’t wrong. With General Sorrengail’s plan to cloud the skies, your ability to see venin and wyvern through the haze made you indispensable. Expendable. Exposed. 

“Good thing I’ve got a vicious dragon and a protective partner.” You said, kissing his cheek. 

“You’re damn right.” Ridoc muttered into your neck. He hadn’t even entertained the idea of partnering up with anyone else for this mission.  As soon as it was announced everyone would be teaming up in pairs, he’d made it clear - you were his. Loudly. Publicly.  

You hadn’t argued. You wouldn’t have chosen anyone else either. 

“You better not let anything happen to you.” You told him, voice tightening. You were going to be focused on the skies. You wouldn’t be able to watch his back like you wanted, and if something happened to him while your eyes were elsewhere . . . 

Ridoc pressed a gentle kiss against your skin, but didn’t speak. He couldn’t lie to you either. 

You held him tighter, trying not to let the fear bury you. Your mind raced with all the things you didn’t want to say out loud, but one thought kept circling back, sharper than the rest: 

This might be the last time you have him. 

“Ridoc?” You whispered.

“Yeah, baby?” He answered just as softly. 

“If something happens out there . . .” You paused, your throat thick. “I want you to know I wouldn’t trade a second of my time with you for anything. It was worth it.” You told him. 

Ridoc pulled back from your neck to look in your eyes, and what you saw there nearly undid you - so much softness and affection shone through those eyes. He hesitated, like the words fought their way up his throat. “I love you so godsdamn much.” He blurted.

Your mouth parted in shock. “What?” 

His eyes widened in panic, like he couldn’t believe he had said it. “Fuck - I didn’t - I’ve been trying to tell you since you took that damn arrow for me, but I didn’t want it to seem like I was saying it because of that, and now it probably seems like I’ve said it because we might die in-”

He loves you.

A slow smile bloomed on your face, growing bigger with every word he kept rambling. He loves you. Ridoc Gamlyn loves you. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that you might die in a few hours, because this? This was everything. 

“If you don’t stop talking, I won’t be able to tell you I love you too.” You said, cutting him off gently. 

Ridoc froze, blinking. “You do?” 

You adjusted your grip with your legs, and in a swift movement, flipped the man beneath you, your hands resting on either side of his head. Both of you let out groans at what the change in position did as he sank deeper into you, but you couldn’t stop smiling as you looked down at his stunned expression, heart soaring. “Of course I do.” You pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “I love the shit out of you, you smartass, hilarious, caring, intelligent, stupidly hot man.” You said, punctuating each compliment with a kiss. 

By the time you were finished, Ridoc’s grin matched your own as he stared up at you, his hands slid to your hips, fingers curling possessively. “This is not going to be good for my ego, you know.” 

“Good thing I love you in spite of the ego.” You teased, lowering your lips to his in a soft kiss. 

Ridoc kissed you back slowly, then murmured against your mouth, “say it again.” 

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips. 

His fingers dug into your hips, and you felt him attempting to thrust deeper inside of you. “Again.” He murmured. 

Your heart could barely handle the way he was looking at you, like your words were the thing keeping him tethered to the earth. Knowing this man loved you? You didn’t feel as tired anymore. “I love you, Ridoc Gamlyn.” You said his name like a promise, and this time rolled your hips, grinding on him.

Ridoc’s groan was melodic to your ears, and when you lifted and lowered your hips to slide back down him, he snapped his own up to meet yours. “Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes closed tight. 

Watching him come undone beneath you, overwhelmed by your love, was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.” You admitted, egged on by his reactions to your words. 

One of his hands slid into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he pulled your forehead to his, his voice raw. “Baby . . .”

“Not only do I love you-” You said, picking up your pace, and leaning forward on every down thrust to put more pressure against your clit. “But you’re everything to me Ridoc. Everything.” 

Ridoc tugged your head down until you met him in a messy kiss, all teeth and tongues, and within moments he was crying out his release into your mouth, you following moments behind. Once you were finished, he rolled you both onto your sides, peppering kisses across your face, and eased out of you. 

The soreness hit at once, and you groaned, stretching out on the bed as Ridoc went to get a washcloth to clean you both up. You winced, actually winced, when he touched your heated core, and glared up at him. “You’re cut off.” 

Ridoc pouted at you, “but you still love me right?” He asked, with the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

It was so adorable. “Always,” you whispered, your smile softening, and when his pout turned to a smile so full of joy it made your heart ache, you mirrored it. “Now get back in bed and cuddle me until we have to go save the world.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice.