#I feel like I just keep saying the same thing over and over again in different ways

[rafecameronssl4t]

the jarah pregnancy made me so happy, so i was thinking about thornton!reader finding out an unexpected pregnancy

Sweet Nineteen || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I was thinking the same thing 🤯

Warnings: vomiting, mention of drugs, r is pregnant at 19

Word count: 1,960

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The bile rises, thick and sour, up your throat, and you throw off the sheets in a panic, bolting to the bathroom. You barely reach the toilet before you’re heaving, clutching the rim as the wave of nausea overwhelms you. It takes a moment before you feel Rafe’s presence at your side.

Gently, he gathers your hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail as he kneels down beside you. His hand is warm and steady on your back, rubbing small, comforting circles. “Fuck,” you mutter in a weak voice, feeling the bile burn again as you throw up once more. Rafe doesn’t flinch, just keeps rubbing your back, his touch grounding you.

“You okay?” he asks softly as you finally catch your breath, reaching out to flush the toilet. He sounds genuinely concerned. “I thought you don’t get boat sickness.” “Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before reaching for your toothbrush.

The cool water on your teeth and gums is a relief, and you close your eyes briefly, trying to shake off the dizziness. “Probably something bad I ate yesterday,” you add, glancing up in the mirror to meet his gaze. He’s watching you, his brow furrowed as he nods slowly, a hint of worry still lingering in his expression.

~

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be nineteen in like…” Sarah pauses, glancing down as she counts on her fingers, her grin widening. “Ten hours,” she chuckles, nudging you playfully. You smile, popping a grape into your mouth. “I know, crazy, right?” you say, shaking your head. It feels surreal, like the year passed in a flash.

Before you can say anything else, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning, you spot Rafe and Topper strolling onto the sun deck, looking relaxed, almost too relaxed. But then the sharp scent of weed hits you, making you wrinkle your nose. You sit up from the sun bed, eyeing Topper with a grimace as you spot the joint hanging from his mouth.

“Are you smoking weed right now?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation in your voice. Topper raises an eyebrow, the joint dangling as he gives you a smirk. “Yeah?” he replies nonchalantly, taking a slow, lazy drag, as if daring you to say more. Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand in front of your face, trying to clear the air. “Well, go smoke it somewhere else,” you mutter. “The smell’s making me sick.”

Topper holds your gaze, his expression shifting to mild confusion mixed with amusement. “What? Never bothered you before, sis,” he says, exhaling another plume of smoke, clearly finding this reaction from you entertaining. “Seriously, get the fuck out of here,” you groan, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth as a wave of nausea rolls over you. “I feel like I’m gonna vomit.”

Topper’s smirk falters as he studies you, genuinely taken aback by your reaction. He glances at Rafe, clearly puzzled, as if to confirm whether this is real or just a joke. Rafe watches you, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he turns to Topper. “Just listen to her,” Rafe mutters, giving Topper a nod of silent insistence. With a sigh, Topper raises his hands in surrender, then stubs out the joint against the railing.

“Fine, fine. You didn’t have to ruin the fun,” he says, tossing the remnants aside. With one last look—half-amused, half-apologetic—Topper ambles off, leaving you Rafe and Sarah in a moment of silence. You exhale slowly, the nausea finally beginning to subside as the smell dissipates, while Rafe lingers, his gaze still fixed on you, as if silently checking to make sure you’re alright.

Did you take any medicine?” Rafe’s voice breaks the comfortable silence between you and Sarah as he strolls over, his expression softened with concern. He sits down beside you on the sunbed, his hand instinctively reaching for your thigh, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.“Yeah,” you reply, offering him a small smile. Sarah perks up at the exchange, her brows knitting together in curiosity.

“For what? Are you sick?” she asks, tilting her head with genuine worry. You shake your head, hoping to ease her concern. “I threw up this morning. I think I just ate something bad,” you explain, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. Sarah’s expression shifts to one of cautious relief as she slowly nods, her eyes lingering on you for a moment.

~

You glance at your watch: five minutes until midnight. The bathroom is quiet and dimly lit, but inside, your mind races as you stare down at the test, barely able to breathe. With trembling fingers, you turn it over, bracing yourself—and your heart stops. Two clear lines. Positive. Pregnant.

The air feels thick, each breath you take heavy with the weight of this sudden, life-changing truth. Pregnant at nineteen. You feel a tear slip down your cheek as the reality of it hits: the uncertainty, the responsibility, and the tiny spark of awe that stirs in your chest at the thought of the life growing within you. Who would’ve thought?

Just as you’re caught in the storm of emotions, you hear Rafe’s voice calling out to you from down the hall, his tone carefree and excited. “Babe, where are you?” Your heart skips, and with a surge of panic, you quickly hide the test in the drawer, wiping away the tears from your face. You glance in the mirror, dabbing beneath your eyes to make sure there’s no trace of the overwhelming emotion that just ran through you.

“Here!” you call out, doing your best to sound cheerful as you step out of the bathroom, forcing a smile onto your face. You walk toward Rafe, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gives you that familiar, comforting smile, his hands settling on your waist. “There you are,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He glances down at his watch, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“C’mon, three minutes until midnight,” he says, a spark in his voice as he takes your hand and starts leading you down the hallway. As he pulls you along toward the top deck, you can’t help but glance back at the bathroom door, where the test lies tucked away, as if leaving behind the secret that’s only just beginning to dawn on you.

The cool night air brushes over you as you step onto the deck, where Sarah and Topper are waiting, chatting and laughing under the glow of fairy lights strung around the railings. The ocean spreads out beneath you, dark and endless, stars reflecting off the gentle waves. You try to take it all in, hoping the beauty of the scene will settle the nerves still buzzing under your skin.

“What’s the time now—” you begin, but before you can finish, the sky bursts into a riot of color as the first firework explodes overhead. You gasp, your hand flying to your mouth in surprise as another spark ignites, followed by another, each one brighter than the last, painting the sky in shades of red, blue, and gold.

Your eyes widen as the fireworks continue to light up the night, each one booming and shimmering against the dark sky. The sight is breathtaking, yet you feel tears pricking your eyes again, overwhelmed by the moment, by the beauty of it all, and by the tiny life that only you know about.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe whispers close to your ear, his arms slipping around you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His warmth seeps into you, grounding you as you lean back against him, watching the fireworks burst above you. You turn in his arms, unable to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks, your emotions too strong to hide. Rafe’s face softens, his thumb brushing against your cheek to catch a tear.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern as his hands gently cradle your face. You hold him close, gathering the courage to tell him what you’ve only just discovered. Voice barely above a whisper, you lean in close, “I’m pregnant.” The fireworks continue to crackle overhead, and your words are nearly lost in the noise. Rafe pulls back, searching your face with a confused look. “What?”

A nervous laugh escapes you, and this time, you say it louder, “I’m pregnant, Rafe!” His face shifts, eyes widening as the realisation dawns on him. “You’re pregnant?” he repeats, his voice filled with awe, and you nod, unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he pulls you into a deep, joyful kiss, his hands cradling your face like he’s afraid to let go.

When he pulls back, he’s grinning, looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “We’re going to have a baby,” he says softly, almost as if he’s speaking to himself, still in shock but brimming with happiness. “What’s going on?” Sarah’s voice cuts through, and you both turn to see her and Topper walking over, eyes filled with curiosity.

You beam at them, feeling a rush of excitement at sharing the news. “I’m pregnant!” you announce, your voice trembling with joy. Sarah’s jaw drops, her hand covering her mouth as she lets out a squeal of excitement, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. “Oh my god, y/n, are you serious?! This is amazing!” she cries, nearly bouncing with joy as she squeezes you.

Topper’s eyes go wide, his gaze shifting between you and Rafe with a grin spreading across his face. “Holy shit, dude! You’re gonna be a dad!” He claps Rafe on the back with enthusiasm, pulling him into a quick, celebratory hug as they both break into laughter. Rafe chuckles, patting Topper’s shoulder, a lightness in his expression that you rarely see.

“And you’re gonna be an uncle,” he replies, unable to hide the pride and excitement in his voice. Topper’s grin softens a little as he turns to you, arms wide open. “Congrats, sis,” he says warmly, pulling you into a tight hug. His embrace is solid and reassuring, swaying you back and forth as you both share a laugh. “Mom’s gonna be over the moon,” he says, chuckling as he releases you.

You smile, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in your eyes. “You really think so?” A part of you can’t help but worry about how your parents will react to the news, especially given that you’re only nineteen. Their expectations have always been high, and this wasn’t exactly in their plans for you.

“Oh, trust me, I know so.” Topper’s eyes twinkle with a mix of reassurance and amusement. “She might put on a big act and pretend to be shocked, but deep down, she’s been waiting for this. She’s dreamed of being a grandma for years.” He gives your arm a gentle squeeze, his playful grin easing your nerves a little.

As you pull away from Topper, Rafe’s arm wraps around your waist, drawing you close to his side. He looks down at you, his expression softening, and leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. ���I can’t believe we’re going to be parents,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of wonder, as if he’s still trying to wrap his mind around it.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you as you snuggle into him, resting your head against his chest. “Me neither,” you reply softly, your voice filled with quiet happiness. “But I’m glad it’s with you.” Rafe’s arm tightens around you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as the reality of it all settles between you.

[yeyinde]

no honestly the worst part of trying to cannibalise simon would be that i know his freak ass is so into it. you bite him as a joke and he’s grabbing the back of your head and pushing it into his arm harder to make the imprints of your teeth deeper. he goes to work and johnny asks him why the fuck it looks like he was fighting zombies from the last of us and simon’s like i have a pup at home who’s teething. and he’s soooo mean about biting you back, he makes them bruise and then flicks them when they hurt just to be mean :( he matches my freak in my head sorry

don't apologise. this is. everything to me, actually. because a pup at home that's teething???? ahhhh i'm gonna be sick!!!!!! 😭 the way he'd look at you too. when his eyes get all flat and dark, heavy lidded. he's amused, yeah, but you've done something here. woke something up.

his little "bite harder, birdie. lets leave a scar" all low and brassy would send me over the edge. makes a game of it to see how many scars you can leave. and him being aggressive with you too is just perfect. keeps biting the same spot over and over again until you can feel the indents of his teeth long after it's healed over. something to remind you of him, he says, and you give up mentioning normal things, like jewellery or trinkets because you like seeing your teeth marks on the side of his neck a little too much to keep pretending.

but it's all fun and games until he takes your ring finger into maw and bites down right at the last knuckle. it's only when he does the same with his, pushing it into your mouth with a heavy gaze and purring out a deceptively calm, even now bite me birdie, that you realise what it means.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you think you might update the Adopted Son Au soon, maybe ?🤔 i just can't with that cliffhanger, i need to know what happened next.

Plz

Dick trying to figure out how he is going to escape from his cell when the door opens again. This time, it's not Drake but a group of children who walk in without saying a word.

They surround him, and Dick prepares himself for some torture when one of them presses a button on a controller, releasing him from the retrains, keeping him trapped in the chair.

The metal slides off his wrists and ankles, allowing him to flip up from his seat and away from the group. He wobbles a little, having gone a few weeks without much exercise or movement due to his bad mental state.

He can still take them to the ground, but he won't be at his best, which irks him fiercely. It will also make this fight a lot more dangerous. Surprisingly, the children don't react to his flip or fighting stance.

They stare at him with blank expressions, the single light swinging back and forth as Dick had anciently hit the edge of it with his hip. Four of them are cramped into the surprisingly small room, but none look like they are there for a fight.

Dick frowns. "What's going on?"

" You didn't have Danny, "the oldest one, the boy the Parkers had apparently been taking in, says. "We have no reason to keep you."

"What, you going to let me go? Just like that?" The disbelief drips from his words as he tightens his fist, searching for the surprise attack that will surely come.

"Just like that." The boy agrees, clapping his hands. A little girl throws a bag at Dick, who catches it in an instant. The thing is heavy, but it doesn't feel like a weapon. The teenager claps again, and suddenly, the ground underneath him vanishes.

Dick is free-falling before he knows what's happening. The rush of the wind nearly drowns out his screaming as he tumbles downwards. He watches the apparent cargo plan hangar close as the children stare at his descent.

Twisting around and trying to get his wits about him, Dick realizes he doesn't have a lot of time to figure out what to do because he is far above the ground. He will not survive hitting it. The bag in hand beeps before it springs open.

Wire cords warp around his torso, yanking him to the side so the bag can rest on his back. Another beep goes through before a loud whoosh can be heard, and Dick's body jerks again as a parachute bursts to life from the bag.

He gasps as it catches the wind once it fully opens, stopping his free fall into a gentle flouting. Dick's heart is hammering away in his chest, even when he starts the breathing exercises Bruce taught him to keep calm. He glances up at the plane, but it shimmers out of sight once a clocking device is activated.

He can only guess which direction it ran away in. It must be one of Crowne's inventions.

A few minutes go by when he falls some clouds- and it stings to feel the water bit dig into his skin.- before he finally realizes where he is. Drake had him thrown right over Wayne Manor. The little shit.

Carefully testing the turning cords, Dick realizes that they are much simpler to drive and directions his landing towards the ground behind the Manor. He is nearly there when a flash of red races out of the window, aiming right for him.

"Dick!" Kori shouts, wrapping her arms around him. He sighed gratefully and said she was mindful of the parachute. His friend tucks him into her arms, one hand under his knees, the other on his upper back, and flies him safely back down. "You're okay! We were so worried when you vanished."

"How long was I gone?"

"Just one day. What happened?"

Wow, Drake doesn't mess around. It was alarming that he could not only take him from his own room but return him without any of the Bats being the wiser. "Let's get everyone grouped up. This is going to need some explanations."

The two fly through the same window Kori was excited about. The minute Dick's feet touch the floor, the bag beeps and unclips, yanking the fabric up his parachute back into the little bag as it slides off his shoulders.

Crowne would be so excited that it works so smoothly. He thinks almost wistfully.

"Dick!" Jason yells, racing forward to throw his arms around Dick's middle. Not far behind, Damian joins them though he seems more willing to hold onto Jason rather than Dick.

"Hey guys." He mutters, bending down to hug back. "Sorry about the scare."

"Dick," Bruce's baritone voice has him snapping his head up. There, he realizes his family and the teen titans are all sitting around a conference table, papers scattered in front of the relieved people. A large screen was sitting behind Bruce, displaying the latest news in the Crowne trial. "What happened?"

Dick takes a deep breath, locks everything that man him, the fun circus child, in a tight box inside his chest. When he opens his eyes again, all that's left is Nightwing.

"Let me tell you," And he does

A while later, Dick learns that while no one had known where he had gone, they had all been able to find enough proof that Dick was taken. It had left everyone in great unease, especially Bruce, who had always been proud of the Manor's defenses.

They were in the middle of discussing Timothy Drake's new danger level when the noise of the reporting news anchor cut off mid-sentence. The image changes from a business street of Gotham's police headquarters, where Daniel Crowne is said to be held, to a dark room with a person wearing a glowing green skull mask.

The person is sitting at a table, the angle getting them from the chest up. They wear a hood that does not hide their black wavy hair, curling around their ears. As the camera focuses, the figure plays with a piece of it.

Everyone at the table tenses up as the person speaks. They use some voice modifier that disrupts the words, making it sound robotic -it's hard to tell whether it's a boy or a girl. The body shape, however, points to them being young. "People of Gotham. I have taken control of this and every screen within the city to speak to you about Daniel Crowne. Many of you have cheered the last few days over his imprisonment, unaware of the hero he was. Tonight, I wish to enlighten you. Watch and repent."

"Where is this broadcasting from?" Bruece demands at once. Babs is already tapping away on her Crowne laptop, attempting to track down the signal.

"I don't know. It's bouncing from all over the city." She huffs.

On the screen, the stranger continues. Dick thinks he knows who that is. He recognizes the mindless habit of playing with the hair near the right side of his neck. "That's Drake."

At his words, everyone tenses even further.

"It's true Crowne broke the law. He took it into his own hands when CPS failed to protect the children they claimed they worked for, much like a specific group of Bats." Drake continues, tapping one finger on the surface of his table. "Unlike them, Crowne kept a record of everything he's done. I will present it all to you."

The screen changes to show documents, videos of abuse victims, and some testimony of missing children. For an hour, every screen showcases everything Daniel Crowne has done since he appeared from his adoption. The Waynes and the Titians are left in awe by the sheer amount of evidence that showcases.....Crowne saving children.

Dick legs give out under him some time around the proof of the Foster system failing children and how Crowne had personally swooped in to save them. None of it is legal, but no one cares.

Not when Heather Gobb's case is shown that she has been locked up in juvie for years for being a poor orphan. Not when her neighbors' old video of them pleading with the public to find information on her is shown, as they had thought she had gone missing five years ago and were still looking for her today.

Not when Max Smith- the same one that released him- case of being a human traffic victim was rescued and given to the Parkers. The Parkers had been rejected five times as foster parents due to their age. But the Martinez another case shown here- was even after three different girls reported sexual assault.

Every contact. Every move. Every single street kid is given a home. All of it was shown here, even the way he did it. Daniel Crowne was a hero.

"No," Dick gasps, watching the proof of Danny secretly busting trafficking rings and helping the victims find their way home. He had worked on one of those cases. Cindy, a fifteen-year-old girl, had been secretly rescued when a tip came through. Among her bags was a map of the rest of the cages that she claimed she had never before seen.

Crowne- Danny- had planted it.

The tears are rolling down his face, blurring everything in sight, but Dick can't look away. His chest feels like it's caving in as memory after memory plays behind his eyes.

Memories of the man he betrayed.

Drake, in his eerie glowing skull costume, returns. "That was who Daniel Crowne was. I speak in the past tense because his body had been discovered earlier today. He was found stuffed into a waste bin near Gotham's dump. A funeral will be held for the public in a week within Gotham Park at this same time, open casket, and he will be buried with honor somewhere no one can reach him. It will be the only time to say goodbye."

Dick feels like his world has shattered. The room starts to spin; multiple people are speaking, but he can barely hear them over the roaring in his ears.

He can only see Drake's green glow as the boy continues. "Lastly, I have a message for Officer Lucas Black of the 99th. We know what you did, and as much as I want to end you, he wouldn't have wanted that. Instead we will send you a gift. She was found in the last ring Crowne managed to track down. Protect her well this time. And never forgive yourself for what you did to her savior."

The screen cuts. Dick turns to the side, throwing up until nothing but acid comes out. His friends and family gather around him, trying their best to offer him comfort, but they can do nothing.

Danny is dead. He's gone, and he never even knew it was Dick that helped kill him.

_________________________________________________________

Life is a blur, worse than when he had Danny arrested. Dick isn't even sure he's alive. Bruce and the rest of the police have managed to verify all of the presented evidence. Crowne had legally kidnapped children, but no one could claim him a monster.

It was like the city was collectively drowning in guilt and mourning. Not even the rest of the Rouges dared to cause trouble. For the first time in centuries, Gotham was experiencing a cease-fire, and peace fell upon the civilians.

It hadn't stopped raining since Danny's death, almost as if Gotham herself was sobbing for the loss.

Dick had never felt this empty before, not even at the lost of his parents. He had nothing, no one to be angry at as Drake had covered every track of Danny's killer.

A single letter with a glowing green ghost circled around the familiar D arrived at Wayne Manor the day following the broadcast. All it read was You will never find out who took him. Remember him for the life he lived and not the violence he suffered.

Bruce was working non-stop to bring Danny's killer to justice, but there was even less to go on than the death of Thomas and Martha Wayne.

Somehow, he finds himself getting dressed for Daniel Crowne's funeral. Jason and Damian help him walk out of his room, wearing black, and into the car. Bruce is riding in the passenger seat while Alfred is driving.

They had forgone the expensive vehicles and instead rode in a small black car. This was not an event that needed a showy entrance.

The drive is long and silent. Pity and pain make him almost choke, as none of the other four seem to know what to say. They only glance at him, looking torn up.

Bruce is the worst. He likely blames himself for the whole honey pot plot, and Dick wants to blame him, wants to lash out and rage against his father, but he can't.

He had agreed to the plan. Dick had been the one who went to Danny's office, the one who held him and spoke to him. The one that stole kisses and whispered sweet nothings.

The one that falls in love with the person he destroyed.

Dick stares out the window, wishing he was sobbing like he had been just a few days ago. He wishes he could feel the headache of dehydration from all the tears he cried. Anything other than this numbing pain that rests on his chest and keeps him from feeling anything.

His eyes have remained dry since he heard the news of Danny's passing. What kind of monster did that make him?

"Dick..." Bruce tries, but his words fall short. With a start, the first Robin realizes they are at the park. The car had been parked, and everyone was outside waiting for him.

He unclips his belt, stepping out and ignoring the hand Bruce offers him. All of Gotham has come for Daniel Crowne. There are so many marching by in black clothing. Some are sobbing, others are whispering, but all Dick sees is a sea of strangers that once cheered for his death.

Who are you? He thinks as his family walks into the park. Did any of you even know him?

A nasty voice sneers in his mind. Did you know him, Grayson?

Jason's warm palm slides into Dick's, helping him to the front where some seats had been put aside for those that were personally saved by Danny. Drake wanted them front and center; he had sent a message with a confused Sparrow.

Damian now seemed to regret presenting the letter as he held Jason with getting Dick to sit.

The coffin was surrounded by flower arrangements and shoes—the ones from the people he had saved. Some adult sizes were mixed in, but the majority were of children—it didn't seem real.

None of this does.

But Danny is gone, and Dick can not cry.

Next to the Waynes sits Officer Black, who is sobbing so hard it sounds like his chest is being cut apart. His sister is holding him, crying into his shoulder and whispering assurances.

The Ghosts- a new group that has risen in place of Crowne's fall- had delivered her home mere minutes after the Broadcast. She had received free treatment in one of Crowne Corp's hospitals outside of Gotham. She, along with seventeen other victims, had been personally rescued by Daniel Crowne only a month before.

Dick was happy for them. After years of being apart, the Blacks were finally whole once more.

Phantom- the head of Ghosts- walks up to a podium. His glowing green skull mask hides his expression from the crowd, but Dick can see how hard it is for Drake to stand there and speak.

"Gotham is no stranger to tragedy. We live with grief and joy. We dine with hope and sorrow. We walk with fate and death. In the five years since his arrival, Daniel Crowne had done everything he could to protect Gotham without asking for anything in return. He was deeply devoted to those he loved, and though not religious, he believed in Gotham." Drake says, addressing the crowd. "He found the flame of hope in the darkness of Gotham's streets. He stood tall when others lay broken by her crushing weight, bearing the burden of her attention. His mind illuminated that darkness, his heart warmed those in the cold wind, and with every fiber of his being, Danny fought for the betterment of mankind. His inventions saved thousands and have carved history with a chisel of his own making. We say goodbye to our cherished brother, friend, and noble son stolen from us far too soon. Remember him for the life he lived and not the violence he suffered. Daniel Crowne may no longer be able to walk with us, but his spark will forever live within us."

Drake pauses, turns to the coffin, and places a flower inside of it. "May you find the peace you were searching for, Brother."

Dick bows his head feeling tears gather in his eyes, but none spill over as Drake encourages everyone to pray in whatever belief they hold and allows people to go up to offer their own flowers, stones, or gifts. His line is the first to go up, but he can't move. His legs feel like lead, shaking his head when Bruce whispers his name.

Officer Black passes him, clutching his sister's hand as they walk to Danny's coffin. To his body. It's odd.

Danny is of that wooden stature, but nothing is in it—it's just a box. Officer Black placed his badge inside, whispering that he was leaving the force. Dick is close enough that he can hear his sister adding a ring that Danny had given her when he visited her during her recovery and wonders how bright Danny's smile might have been to see the siblings together again.

The funeral continued, with a long queue of people wishing to say their final goodbyes. Dick sat through the whole thing, aware of time passing but not entirely sure what was happening around him.

All too soon and not fast enough, the service ends. The Phantom claps his hands. A significant plane shifts into view, and its cloaking device falls. It lowers a platform as some Ghosts carefully lift the coffin.

The pallbearers march onto the plane's platform as a haunting melody bleeds into the air. With a start, Dick realizes it's an instrumental cover of their song, the one Danny and he used to dance and sing to. Danny had been playing it the day they were unpacking his home before Dick had found the journals that same night.

Drake really wants him to suffer, doesn't he?

No one speaks as the group rises into the air, taking with them Daniel Crowne. The plane vanishes from sight once more, and slowly, everyone tickles home. Gotham's rain—absent for the funeral—returns just as the Waynes manage to get into their car.

The drive home was even shorter than the one to the event. His family tries to speak to him, but Dick hears nothing. He merely walks up to his room and crashes on his bed.

Exhaustion, one deeper than his very bones, drags him under. He's out before Bruce can find the courage to enter his room.

_________________________________________________________

He's not sure if it's a dream or not, but the next thing Dick knows, he's blinking his eyes open to a soft white glow. His eyes are drawn to the bottom of his bed, where a figure sits on its edge, hunched over and staring at its hands.

His breath caught in his throat, causing the person to turn towards him. He looked different. His green eyes were glowing like a light was lit behind his eyeballs. His hair was snowy white, and his body seemed nearly transparent, but there was no denying who it was.

"Danny" The name is spoken like a gospel.

The love of his life smiles at him in that same adoring way. It feels like a slap and a hug all in one. "Hello Darling"

He stares, unsure of what to do, until he blurts, "You're dead."

Danny throws his head back in a familiar, impish laugh. It's the one, only Dick, had been privy to, as his boyfriend had always been so regal laughing loudly seemed to be against his very image.

Danny crawls from the bottom of the bed, still laughing, until he lays right next to Dick, who can't stop staring at him. Once he settled, the two were mere inches away, staring into each other's eyes as if they could drink each other's features.

"Yes," Danny's voice is soft as freshly fallen snow. "I'm dead. I never thought about that happening. A part of me always hoped I wouldn't form a complete ghost when my time would come. It's rather silly when you consider Dan."

"Ghost?"

Glowing green eyes soften just a bit as a cold- never will it be warm again- hand wraps around his own. Dick can hardly believe he can feel the hold as he continues to stare. "Yes, Darling, I'm a ghost."

"I'm sorry," He whispers, and then a sorrow overcomes him. Dick feels his eyes water faster than anything this past week. Silent tears rolled down his face as he choked, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Oh, Darling." Danny comes, reaching out to wipe his tears away. "I don't blame you. I love you."

"Danny you can't love me. You don't know what I did."

"I do know. You were a honey pot to find evidence of me trafficking children." Danny says as if though nothing. As if Dick hadn't betrayed him to the very core of their relationship. "I'm hurt by it, but I do not hate you for it. You were doing the same thing I was. Trying to protect children; after all, I did make thousands vanish. It looked suspicious."

"If I had been a better detective, I would have found the truth." Dick insisted, self-hate clouding his words.

Danny sighs, tracing the side of his cheek. "No, you wouldn't. Darling, you and Bruce had spent months investigating me without finding anything that could tie me to the case before you had the idea of the Honey Pot. I ensured no one would have found the truth unless they got close. I didn't even tell Tim. He just found out on his own."

Dick's tears flow faster. "I could have done more."

"I could have told you," Danny counters, smiling sadly. But to do so, I would have to tell you about my Halfa status, and I was never quite brave enough to disclose the subject. We both kept secrets, Darling and are both to blame."

"But you're dead." Dick chokes, reaching out his arm to bring his lover to his chest. He lacks the warmth that he once associated with Daniel Crowne. "My secrets lead to your death."

"Maybe. My secret would have led to me leaving your world anyway." Danny confuses.

"What?"

"Since I became Daniel Crowne, I have been working on a way to travel dimensions. It was my goal to get back to my original home. I became so obsessed with it that I did not weaver even years after landing in a world technically behind my own. Not even my love for you or my care for Tim made me give up on that goal." Danny says, eyes staring into Dick's soul, looking so majestic and sad that, for a moment, Dick wondered if he was a painting.

"I told myself that once I figured out a way to travel home, I could come back here to you and live another double life. But that was a lie. A pretty one but a lie. I had to choose one world or another and I would have chosen the other if I had lived."

Danny rests his forehead against Dick's. "I wanted a life with you, Darling, but fate wouldn't allow it as I have been too selfish. I know it's a lot to ask, but can I be selfish a little longer?"

The Gotham vigilante wraps himself around his dead partner, attempting to bury himself in his essence. "As much as you want Darling. Be as selfish as you want."

Neither speaks for long, allowing themselves to feel around each other.

"Daniel Fenton," Danny says after a long while.

"What?"

"My name. It's Daniel Fenton." Danny pulls back to smile at him. "May I tell his story?"

"Yes."

_____________________________________________________________

Dick wakes again to his room curtains gently blowing in the wind of his open windows. The rain has stopped, and a few birds are chirping in the trees outside the glass. The sun shines on the ring that has his name carved into the band, where it rests on his bedside table.

There is no evidence that Danny had been there the night before.

Dick carefully reaches out for the ring, sliding it onto his finger. It's a perfect fit.

He rolls onto his back, holding his hand up to watch the small stones curling around the band gleam. Somewhere in the afterlife, the Ghost King, rightful ruler of the Beyond, is wearing a similar one, and he may wait for the day the two reunite.

Dick Grayson knows everything about Danny Fenton, of how he arrived here in this world, of the one he lost when he flew aimlessly through the Infinite Realms, and of the life he built himself in his effort to get home.

He knows that Timothy Drake will continue to rule over Gotham's underbelly with his trained Ghosts, who will be far more dangerous than any Talon. He will also buy out Crowne Corp, bringing his brother's once titan of a company under his care to continue his work.

He knows Jason and Damian will grow up well, forging their own identities and teams and working hard to improve the lives of the residents of Crime Alley.

He knows that Bruce will continue his war against the crime of Gotham, and for every mistake and stumble he makes, Bruce will bring hope back to the people who cower in their homes.

He knows Lucas Black did not mean to kill Danny and finds he does not hate the man. Danny does not blame him, so why should Dick? He'll dedicate the rest of his life to working at the bakery his sister had always dreamed of owning.

But above all, Dick Grayson knows Danny Fenton still loves him.

For the first time since Danny's death, Dick allows himself to dissolve into sobs. His cries raise in volume, filling the room with their anguish. His bedroom door is flung open by a distressed-looking Bruce, who gathers him in his arms. His baby brothers are not far behind, and Alfred even puts aside his professionalism to join in on the hug.

One day, the family will be much larger than the five. Somewhere out there, a young girl unable to speak is waiting for them. Her brother, who can see the dance of light, is just a little behind. He likely goes to class with a girl in purple who will become Drake's right hand after one too many pushes from her shitty father.

Danny told him there would be more and that he had seen all of Dick's life. Ultimately, he will wait for them to pick up where they left off. The weight of their shared rings will be a companion for the rest of Dick's life.

Dick sobs and sobs until every nasty emotion is finally out of his body. It feels like relief.

[viennacherries]

okay hi sorry i need to talk about the lucanis romance for a moment and why i think it's absolutely perfect. spoilers below the cut ofc

so obviously there are a limited number of romance scenes. i really do believe in the case of lucanis' romance this lends itself to telling his story.

we learn through party banter with him and emmerich that his relationship with rook is his first. and that's not suprising really, he's an assassin. he faces death constantly and aside from the fact that he could die at any moment, being in a relationship gives his enemies a weak spot to exploit. love and the weakness required to accept and give it is a risk he cannot afford in his line of work.

then you add on the fact that he's been in the ossuary for a year. he was definitely sure he was never getting out of there. and then he does but he's possessed.

so here's rook. and they're flirting with him and being all enticing and he thinks they're great. but he doesn't deserve love and he certainly can't risk it. he's an abomination, he'll put them in danger. and what happens afterwards? when he goes back to taking contracts? it only takes pissing off the wrong person once for rook to be in danger. so he mostly just talks around it. tried not to think about it or aknowledge it.

and then spite breaks through for the second time. and there's rook. again. and they're soft and understanding and kind and they remind him that under everything else, all of the trauma and the fear, he's human. they make him feel so safe and he starts to let his walls down.

we can't know for sure why he pulls away in that moment, but i think it's because he reminds himself how dangerous it is for him and for rook. he wants them terribly but it's such an awful no good idea so he drags himself away.

but he still cares for them. he makes them dessert and he keeps them safe and eventually he has to admit to himself that they're not just friends anymore.

and then rook is taken into the fade by solas.

he never tells rook, you only find this out in a bellara romance, but rook is in the fade for weeks.

all that time, lucanis is there and he's just full of regret. because holy shit he's fallen in love with them and now they're gone and he should've just told them. he should've held them like he wanted. because now he can't and he never will again.

and then they're back.

and he comes into their room and his words are so simple.

"i never thought id see you again. i thought id lost you"

and obviously the rest of his dialogue can vary in this scene but all of it is SO weighted if you consider the fact that he really did think they were dead.

"i do. i know how to feel."

"it's one of the things i love about you"

"i'm not going anywhere."

he is in LOVE with them and he's tired of fighting it. he's tired of pretending he isn't. he's tired of denying himself of what he wants because he's scared. because ultimately he did lose them, despite how careful he'd been, and it hurt just the same.

"i know how to feel." because he DOES now.

so in the last battle, before you fight elgernan, he tells you again just how much he loves you. how he'll do anything he needs to to be back in your arms when it's over. because those weeks without you were torture and he never wants to do that again. he wasted all that time terrified to hurt you but you got hurt anyway. why keep pretending? why keep denying himself the person he wants more than anything in the world? he goes from 0-100 because this is so much more real now. there's so much to lose.

"i've assumed you knew my heart because it beats for you. it's been beating... when i wanted you. when i was afraid to want you... tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms and i will kill any god you ask."

this one sentence conveys EVERYTHING. all of his longing throughout the game. how long he has loved rook. he didn't say it because he was afraid. but he's not afraid anymore.

so much of lucanis' romance is about subtext. it's about the things he doesn't say rather than the things he does.

i think it's absolutely beautiful.

[madamechrissy]

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso has a tongue ring for reasons... oh and a dick piercing for other reasons. In this chapter, blow jobs, fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, semi public sex, lots of confusion, jealousy happening, friends w/benefits

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10.6k

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️

Chapter One 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Two

Your POV

You wake up the next morning in a strong pair of arms, with a thigh pressed up between your thighs, you flush when you realize where you were, in your best friend’s arms. Arms the squeeze you just a little tighter, his breath hot on your neck, tickling you and making you tremble, then he shifts his thigh, and fuck it’s pressed even more, and you’re arching up for it without thinking.

He moans softly, you feel his long dark lashes fluttering against your cheek, you are tense against him. “Mmm, g’morning.” He mumbles, burying his head back in the crook of your neck.

“G’morning, Cho.” You say softly, he pulls you even closer now, pecking little kisses down your neck, it feels way too good, too natural.

Not once had you felt like this.

Was it because you’ve known him like the back of your hand forever? Possibly, not having to worry if you look good, if you’re done up enough, to just be a little bit of a mess next to him was so comfortable. But also, it didn’t feel odd in his arms, you’d knocked right out, and now you feel that same thrill you did last night, remembering the pleasure he gave you.

You’re blushing now, cheeks hot, vivid images of his dark hair between your thighs, those violet eyes as his tongue ring had done wicked things. You’re getting wet just thinking of it, and he tenses himself behind you, arm tightening, his breath catching in his throat. You’re sure he can tell, making you embarrassed.

“You’re so hot there.” He whispers, and you cry out just a bit when he presses up once more, your hand clutches the pillow under it tightly.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m…”

“Sorry, for what? Being sexy.” Fuck you adore your best friend, his kisses against your neck turning hotter, his mouth opening, tongue lapping at you, making you shiver with desire, coursing down your body. You shift, and he moans again. “Fuck.”

“Sorry!” You cover your face, and he gently pulls your hand down, turning your face to look at him.

“Stop apologizing. Do you want me to get her off again?”

“Fuck, yes. But I wanna do things to you.”

“You can get me later.” He says, pressing up once more, and now you’re shamelessly rubbing on his thigh. “Oh my god, fuck.”

“Choso…” You whisper, eyes dropping to his lips, glossy as he licks them slowly, a big hand pressing against your tummy.

“Let me get you off, angel.” You shake your head, making him smile a bit, running his fingers down your tummy, rolling against your clit now, pressing his thigh up further, you’re bare aside from his big shirt, dripping down his sweats. “Oh my god, you feel so good, you’re this wet for me?”

“Shush, supposed to be… friends…”

“Friends who fuck, hmm?” You nod weakly, eyes fluttering shut at his gentle circles, as you keep grinding on his thigh helplessly. “So then I can talk to you like that, if you want.”

“I want.” Is all you manage, getting wetter and wetter as your hips move, his fingers hitting the perfect rhythm, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Then let me tell you how good you feel against me.” He pulls his thigh back then, you whine out at the loss. “Aw, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, so fucking sexy, your silly Cho Bear, it wrecks your mind.

Now he is pressing his cock against your back, you feel how hard and thick he is, when he grabs a thigh and brings it high over his leg, and plunges two fingers in your pussy now. You’re pouring more all over his fingers, weakly crying out at how good it feels, reaching a hand back to grip his hair, pulling his lips to yours as you turn your head back to him.

He moans, still fingering you so good you can’t stand it, you want so much more, especially that thick cock against you, fuck it felt so big, you ache to see it, to feel it. Choso’s tongue ring hits your own tongue, clicking gently against your teeth, as you suck on it playfully, earning more of his moans, more of his fingers.

“Close, Cho… m’close.” You whisper, and he looks at you with those dilated eyes, fingerfucking you faster, scissoring his fingers in and out, you’re so close you shatter at it, and he’s watching as your eyes roll back, as your mouth is open, you think you must look so dumb-

“Oh, you’re so pretty.” He says instead, and you begin to climax, it washes all over your body, you’re pulsing around his long fingers now, and he eases, slipping them out to toy with your clit, making you jerk.

“Sensitive.” Your voice is faint, you’re reaching behind you to find him, earning his own moan, his eyes fluttering shut, he keeps torturing your clit, until you’re close again, this time overstimulated. “Do you um, wanna fuck? Or want me to suck you?”

“Both, and add wanna eat you again.” You giggle breathlessly.

“You’re a freak, Cho Bear.”

“You really haven’t seen much freak yet, angel. But you’re so cute and nervous, I love you like this.” He brings his fingers to your lips, and you are sucking yourself off of him, stroking him over his sweats as he bucks into your palm. “You sure you wanna have sex today, we can wait. I don’t mind.”

“We’re friends with benefits, Cho.”

“Benefits are you looking pretty in my arms.” You melt then, fuck he’s perfect, and fuck Yuki is a fool.

“Choso you’re gonna snatch someone up so quick, perfect ass.”

“And look at you.”

“A hot mess.” He chuckles, shaking his head, you turn then, body still reacting to his touch, to the pleasure he gave you, you’ve got him on his back now, your hair falling half out of your loose ponytail. He smiles, gently shaking it out, running his hand through it.

He’s seen you a million times in this state, but somehow you find yourself worrying a bit, what does he think, Yuki was always so put together…

“You’re so pretty in the morning. Even with this mess.” He teases, pulling your hair softly, and watching you cry out hungrily, tattooed hands sliding down your arms now, before he’s reaching for that shirt, pulling it flush against your body.

“Are you ready for my amazing skills?” You tease, trying to shove down the feeling of being so into him, of loving everything about this too much already.

“I’m ready, show me what you got.”

“As a friend.”

He snorts. “Best friend. Oh… mmm…” He lets out this soft cry when you’re sliding down his sweats, and he’s so thick, his cock is so sexy it alone has you pulsing all over again. Especially when you see it.

“Cho… do you have…”

“Oh, it won’t hurt you, promise.” He says softly, when you see there is a piercing on the underside of his cock, right under his tip, two silver balls on either side of a barbell. You’re flustered as you study it, and Choso gets flustered as you do. “Is it… like weird or-”

“No, no! It’s really hot. Um… just didn’t know… they pierced these? Did it hurt at all?”

“No, it won’t hurt if you play with it either, don’t worry.” He gently takes your hand, putting it on it now, you feel your tummy clenching as you touch it, the skin thin over the piercing, and he moans softly.

“Does it feel good there?” He nods eagerly, urging you on as you study him, the room is dimly lit by the morning sun peeking through the blinds, casting a warm glow over Choso’s toned body. He’s gorgeous as fuck you think, especially the little blush on his cheeks when you stroke him once softly, tentatively.

“Tell me what you like, Cho bear. Like I did.” You tease, your hands are shaking slightly as you wrap your fingers around his thickness, stroking him gently, feeling him thicken.

“I would like you kissing me anywhere.” He says then, his big hands sliding up your shirt, sliding against your bare skin, making your breath catch. “I’d also love to see your pretty body again.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggle, sighing. “I’m not very sexy.”

“I disagree.”

“I’m awkward, Cho. But here.” You go to pull up his shirt now, letting it slide up off your head, falling to the bed next to you, and he eagerly grips your breasts, squishing them before you pull away. “Let me kiss you all over then.”

“Please.” His breathy reply urges you on, and he exhales as you kiss down his neck, your mouth tracing the line of his collarbone, down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, smelling the heady scent of him. Something warm and intoxicating. He’s watching you, eyes full of desire, when you kiss a flat brown nipple his hands dig into your hair. “Sorry…”

“Cho, I don’t mind.” You say with a little smile, kissing down his chest, your hands sliding back down, one finding his cock again, as you kiss further and further, feeling the flutter of nerves as you do. You’d done this before, but you wanna do such a good job, Choso looked thrilled about it all, which melts you.

He’s now gently stroking your cheek, not listening to you, instead of pulling on your hair. “So pretty.”

You hide your pleased little smile, kissing further down, now holding his thick length, fuck he’s so big it’s intimidating, he has precum dripping out of the little hole on his tip, your thumb swirls it around, his hips buck up just at that. “Cho, you’re so big, you sure that’ll fit?”

“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry.” He says, he’s so sweet you think, as you’re studying his perfect features, the straight nose, the bow of his lips. “I will have you so ready, you are really tight though.”

“Gonna stretch me out, Cho?” When your mouth reaches the tip of his cock, you give it a tentative lick, and he gasps, you taste the salty but sweet sticky liquid there, taking more of his tip in then.

He gasps, his hand coming to the back of your head, entangling in your hair now, his moans urging you on. “Feels so good.”

“Mmm.” You take him in your mouth now, feeling the hot skin stretched tight over his hardness with your tongue. Choso’s moans fill the room, urging you on as you bob your head, finding a rhythm now, and he’s a mess under you.

“S’good, s’good, you’re… yes, please, there.” He is muttering in a little mantra, his eyes never leaving yours, so dilated they look black now, you pull up just a bit with a pop, Choso’s thumb traces your lips. “You look so pretty like this.”

“You can push me on it if you want.”

“No! I can’t. You’re too… cute and… I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Choso, stop. You won’t. Push a little.” He tentatively puts his hand on the back of your head now, pushing up, his hips rock slightly, fucking your mouth. You moan around him, loving the feeling of him fucking you deeper.

“Are you okay?” You nod around his length, and he’s fucking up harder, you hear the sound of your suction mixing with his sexy sounds. “That’s it, you’re so good.”

All his praise gets you so wet, and you are sucking him deeper, eager to taste him fully, to make him feel the same way he made you feel last night. Your mouth takes him in, inch by inch, feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue, which darts across the barbell on the underside of his thick cock.

You never minded oral, but something about tasting him makes you love it, you could do it forever if it wasn’t for the tenseness in your jaw. You breathe out your nose, relaxing your throat now, eating up the way he responds to every movement you make. His hands are in your hair now, not guiding but holding, as if he can't get enough of the sight of your lips wrapped around him.

You take him deep as you can, your throat tightening around him, he gasps, hips bucking up. “Don’t do too much!”

You laugh a bit, pulling back. “I’m good, promise. I like it.”

“Fuck you’re hot.” You giggle again, he’s just so sweet. You swirl your tongue around the tip, licking off the precum that's leaking out, and you notice Choso's thighs are trembling, his abs tightening as you suck him, and you know he's close, you can feel him getting even thicker.

With a final moan, he pulls you off, and you look up at him, eyes watering slightly, your lips swollen from your efforts. "Let me finish.”

“No, I want to feel you, please." He says, his voice hoarse, and you nod, feeling your heart skip a beat at the thought. He flips on top of you now, licking a thumb and rubbing your clit, and you're wet and ready, panting for him.

“You don’t have to, I’m so ready.” You plead, Choso’s eyes get lidded, continuing his little circles, making you whine out for him, reaching down and stroking him once more.

“You’re really tiny.”

“I can stretch.”

“Not very angelic.” He says, teasingly, and you both giggle nervously. He slips two fingers inside you, groaning out as he does. “You’re so wet. From sucking me? How…”

You slide your hands up to cup his face. “Because it’s hot, just like how you got hard eating me out.”

He kisses you again, and you drown in those kisses, your friend’s lips shouldn’t feel this good, should they? You shove that out of your mind, you’re both inexperienced, one partner doesn’t mean you all suddenly can just fuck. Of course you wanted to feel more, casual sex isn’t something you’re used to yet.

That and Choso’s lips are plush, his fingers are thick, his body is hot… he’s perfect, and you’re craving him more than anything. You’re rolling your hips up for more, more, more of him, he breaks that kiss, leaning up, a little trail of saliva between your lips for just a moment, before studying you. So intense you’re blushing again.

He takes his fingers out, sucking on them again, off his black nails, as if you’re the yummiest treat. “Do you want to… use a…”

“Oh, y-yeah. Sure?” He laughs softly then, brushing your hair gently, leaning on an elbow over you.

“You’re so cute.”

“You’re cute, Cho bear.”

“Hmm…” He kisses you once more, leaning over to his nightstand, pulling out a row of magnum condoms, and you blush further. “Is everything okay? If you change your mind please tell me. We can-”

“No, no! Um. I’m ready. I want to.” You lean up on your elbows, watching him while nibbling your lower lip. “I just can’t believe we are doing this?”

“I know it’s like some dream from high school.” You giggle a bit.

“I know, though my dreams weren’t this… wild.”

“No?” He’s tearing the condom with his teeth, pulling it out and putting it at the tip of his cock now, you sit up a bit, grabbing it, catching his eyes.

“Let me.” He nods, that pink back on his cheeks, letting you gently roll the condom down his length, his cock twitches as you touch it. “My dreams in high school of you were us just making out.”

“You really dreamt of that?” He asks softly, and you nod, looking away, embarrassed to say such things. He grabs your face gently. “Hey… don’t get shy about it. I liked you too, remember?” You nod again. “Let me get some lube, it may be uncomfy with a condom.”

“Oh, I’m more than wet enough.” You say with a blush, but he’s laying you back down, kissing your tummy, before he’s spreading your thighs, and spits right on your pussy. “Oh!”

“So sexy.” He murmurs, licking you and spreading the spit all around your clit, your lips, your entrance. You grip his hair tightly, yanking on him.

“Fuck me, please.” He leans up quickly, his tip pressing against your little entrance, and you gasp, eyes locking on his. He has one hand pressing your thigh up, the other cupping your face.

“I’ll do anything when you ask so sweetly.” He teases, kissing you again, pressing deeper. You gasp, clinging to his bare back with your nails, he hisses a bit as they press in, leaving little half moons on his skin. “Oh my… oh my god. Are you okay!?”

You nod weakly, as he’s stretching you, pressing deeper, and stretching you out, then you feel it, the piercing, dragging on your walls, making you gasp. “Oh my… oh my god…”

“Fuck let me prep you more.” He goes to pull up, you pull him down, shaking your head, rolling your hips up.

“No, no, please do that again!” He takes a shaky breath, pulling out and then pressing back in, hitting some spot again that has your eyes rolling back. “More, please, more!”

“Anything you want, pretty. Oh you feel so tight, mmm.” He whispers, pulling out and pushing back in, fucking you with just half of his cock, but it feels so good you’re shattering, especially when his hand slides up to grip your wrists, and he pumps quicker.

“There, there!” He drags his piercing against your spot again, making you cum so hard it’s stupid, then you’re pulsing around him, soaking his length, making him slip in easier and easier. “Choso!”

“Mmm, good girl. Feel you cumming on me.” He whispers, your eyes open with a gasp, your hands weakly reaching up for him, digging into his slender hips, he’s kissing you gently, your cheeks, your eyes, letting you catch a breath. “Can you take more, angel? Or want me… half in.”

“I can do it.” He smiles a bit, shoving in then, and you gasp as he hits your cervix, so fucking deep you can’t stand it, you feel so full, so full of him. “Mmm!”

“Mmm…” You both moan into each other’s mouths as he lets you adjust to the sensation, as he feels so good this deep, tip kissing your cervix. He leans up and kisses you messy now, desperate, pulling back and pushing back in, stuffing your cunt so full of him, you’re dripping everywhere, getting wetter and wetter. “Feel s’good…”

“You… feel… so… ah!” You cry out as he’s fucking into you harder, mouth wide open, back arching.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll slow down…”

“No, no, more. More.” He groans now over you, fucking into you harder, and your cunt eagerly sucks him in, his tip and that damn ring dragging along your fluttering walls under the thin layer of latex. “M’cumming!”

Choso shoves a leg up now, over his shoulder, fucking so deep you fall off that edge, cumming even harder, and he sucks in a breath as you do, feeling you clench around him so tightly. He’s kissing your ankle, your leg, his free hand pressing down on your hips, pinning you to the bed as you ride out your second orgasm from his cock, already weak.

“Can I go faster, please? You feel s’good I can’t take it.” He whispers softly, brows furrowed, you nod eagerly, then he’s fucking into you hard, skin smacking, the squishing sound of your pussy mixing with both of your cries. “Oh fuck you’re pretty, s’pretty angel…”

“Cho…” You’re sobbing as he enters you, over and over, wrecking everything you are, your mind can’t even function as he works you, your hands gripping the sheets, eyes struggling to focus on his handsome face, on his abs flexing. He fucks you so deep it hurts finally. “Ah!”

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” He leans down, only stretching your leg further, pulling his hips back and cupping your face. “Are you o-okay!?”

“Yes, yes, keep going.”

“We should…”

“Cho, I love it. Okay?” He exhales, kissing you softly, leaning up again and starting to fuck you at the same pace, then when he hurts you again, it’s like you’re craving it, that pain of him bruising that cervix. “Y-yes, mmm!”

“You s-sure?” He asks softly, his voice breaking with a moan.

“M’sure, yes, please. Go hard.” He does as you ask, fucking you deep and rough now, and your body lights up for it, he’s easing your thigh down now, gripping your throat with his tatted hand, so big, as he moves between your thighs.

“You’re so pretty like this.” He says softly, squeezing gently, thumb right on your pulse, that’s fluttering under his touch. “Can I choke your pretty neck?”

“Yes, yes. Please.” You have no clue what the fuck you’re doing, all you know is his huge length pounding in your pussy is driving you insane, his hand is squeezing, he’s looking how pretty you are with his hand on your throat, licking his glossy lips as he works you slower, squeezing.

“God you’re sexy. Tap me if it’s too much.” You nod a bit, then he’s squeezing harder as he fucks you, violet eyes drinking you in, lashes lowered, fucking into you with deep, strong strokes. Your pussy struggles to take him, stretched beyond her means, but you crave it, along with the bliss of him squeezing.

You’re weakly whining out as he squeezes more and more, you watch the tattoos down his body move with his muscles flexing, watch as he is staring down at your pussy, exhaling.

“She’s taking me so well. You’re so good f’me.” He says, squeezing harder and pressing in, rolling his hips just so, the tightness in your tummy builds, so much pressure, you’re cumming again, and now you’re barely able to make a sound, he’s squeezing so tight.

You’re getting fuzzy, the orgasm sapping the last breaths you had, to the point Choso is blurring, your face is getting so flush as he squeezes, big hands taking your throat over completely. The thrill of it, the fuzzy, floating feeling, mixing with the orgasm is overwhelming, you’re fading until he lets you go, carefully laying on you, brushing his fingers along your neck as you suck in air.

“I said tap, you were about to… mmm… you’re so tight how!?” You giggle, breathless, earning a cute glare.

“I could pass out, you’d wake me.” You tease, then gasp as he shoves his cock in so deep it hurts, the pressure, the fullness, bottoming out and stuffing you. “Cho!”

“You are giggling?” You shake your head, dying for this version of your sweet best friend, the one fucking you stupid. “Good. Why don’t you cum again?”

“Make me.”

“Make you.” He laughs softly, shaking his head, taking your hand then, sliding it down your tummy. “You rub that pretty little clit.”

“Yes Sir.” You tease, but you watch the effects on his face, watch his jaw drop open, his eyes fluttering shut when you rub your clit, soaking wet and slippery. “Mmm… want yours.”

“So greedy, aren’t you angel?” You smile, but the smile is cut off when he takes your fingers, sucking on them, rubbing your clit insted, leaning back on his knees, you’re screaming so goddamn loud you’re sure his neighbors here. “No more laughing.”

“N-no more.” You manage to squeak out, eyes rolling back, hips bucking up when he fucks into you, thrusts harder, his balls smacking against your ass, while he’s rubbing that clit like he’s always known you. “Ah!”

“That’s it. One more time. Please.” You’re too far into it not to, cumming so intensely you’re blinded again, hands in fists on his sheets, orgasm washing over you in waves. You’re trembling and gasping when he’s leaning over you, his heavy weight pressed against you. “Good girl.”

“Choso you’re making me dumb.” You whisper, tears falling from how much he’d made you cum, he cups your face, shaking his head.

“Never, too smart.”

“Cho…”

“I’m close, do you want me to stop?”

“No! No… cum, please. Cum.” He nods gently, kissing you now, one of his hands entwining with yours, sucking your breath away, you’re surrounded by nothing but Choso. It’s so fucking intimate tears fall, he gasps as he leans back, his head tilting up, showing that adam’s apple bobbing.

“You’re so hot, you’re so perfect, you- ah! Mmm!” Choso’s cock thickens, and you  feel pulsing inside his condom, as his cock gets hotter inside of you, and his pumping slows, gently now, as he looks back at you. You’re trembling, kissing him though your tears, which he now notices, brushing them aside. “Did I hurt you angel?”

“No, no. Not at all.” You takes several breaths, and he rests his forehead on yours now. It all feels too good. This shouldn’t feel this good!?

Is this what sex was?

Or was this sex with Choso?

“What’s wrong!? Please tell me. I’ll fix it.” He whispers, kissing your tears, which just pour more at how sweet he is. You shake your head.

“No, it was so perfect, it just… was intense? And got me… emotional. How embarassing, ugh-”

“No, it’s not at all!” He swipes your tears away, and you look up at him with trembling lips. “You are just feeling a lot. Was this too soon from your breakup?”

You laugh softly. “I haven’t thought of him actually all morning. Is that awful of me?”

“No, it’s not.” He eases out of you, and you hiss a bit at it. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you, she looks all swollen.” He frowns then, running his fingers down your pussy lips, all puffy from him. You feel them throb in response.

“No, no, I’m just still new at this. And you’re really big.” You blush as you look at his cock, with the condom half on, the white cum pooling at the tip, and so very much of it too.

“I hope you wanna do it again. I swear next time-”

“Cho, stop. Fucking loved it. Tears of cumming a lot. Swear.” He smiles big then, and you melt, melt too much, surely. “I’ve never felt like that.”

“Me either-”

“Choso, you liked fucking. Don’t say that just to say it.” You sit up a bit then, looking for your shirt, as you worry then, what must your inadequacies be? Ino had no issue leaving you-

“Hey, hey.” He slides your shirt over your head, rubbing your shoulders gently, frowning now as he looks at you. “I mean it. You’re so beautiful, you feel so good around me, I came so hard-”

“Don’t say all that.” You swipe at your eyes, and Choso sighs, turning and giving you a view of his insanely muscled back, his round little ass, you see the tattoo that runs down his neck, twigs entwining down his muscles. Fuck he’s perfect.

“I told you, I say what I mean.” He says softly, turning back to you, and you are standing nervously.

“You loved Yuki.”

“I thought I was falling. Yeah. But… I don’t know. She’s not on my mind.” He cups your face, bringing you close now.

“Friends can feel like that?”

“Do you want more?”

“Cho… we said…”

“Yeah.” He blinks a bit, and you both stand there awkwardly.

“I should go.”

“What!?” Choso stops you now, pulling your back against him, and years of feelings pour in, overtaking you. All those years you both pined for others, always just missing each other, that’s how it was supposed to be, right? “Don’t leave, I’ll really think I hurt you.”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t hurt me.”

He kisses your neck, exhaling. “Do you not wanna do this again? Is it too weird with how close we are?”

“No, no! I love it. Um… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You’re swiping more tears, as you realize you could have been doing this, and that nothing has ever felt more right. But you now know Choso clearly… “You did it a lot, Cho?”

“Um… yeah. A lot.” You turn then, looking back up at him. “Is that bad?”

“No! No… you seem really good at everything. I don’t think I am.”

“What? You-”

“I didn’t do anything but lay there!”

“You’re being silly. Stop it.” He picks you up now, throwing you on the bed, and begins tickling you, making you gasp.

“Stop!”

“When you stop being mean to yourself. Better be nice, you’re my best friend. Hah!” He gets you right under your breasts, and you laugh so hard you can barely breathe, wriggling under him.

“Mercy!”

“Mmm, thought so.” He stops, leaning over you, and you brush his hair back with a shaky hand. “I wanna do that all the time.”

“Fuck me?” You whisper.

“Oh God yes, in every position. You know you blush all over?”

“Hey!” You’re giggling and he leans down, then pauses. You both look at each other, the room silent now aside from Choso’s fan whirring and your labored breaths. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to lose you, ever.”

You blink emotions back. “Oh Cho… you won’t.”

“Promise me?” He holds up a pinky, you smile softly, taking his pinky in yours, curling them together. “If it ever gets too much, if it will fuck up our friendship, you have to tell me.”

“I swear I will. I’m just… new to this. I’m sorry I cried.”

“Don’t you apologize.” He kisses you gently, leaning up. “We said just around sex, the kissing, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. I guess we did.” He pulls away with a sigh, and helps you up now, hugging you tightly, kissing your head as he always has, like a friend.

A friend.

A friend with a huge cock.

A friend with a tongue that’s…

Stop that!

“Let’s get your clothes from your place and get coffee? Yeah bestie?” He asks with a smile, and you nod shyly now. “Bestie with the tightest pussy-”

“Cho!”

Choso’s POV

Five days later- Friday Night

Choso hasn’t been able to get you off his mind all week, now he is tuning his guitar, next to Yuji and Megumi, prepping for their show tonight. Choso sees Megumi as his other little brother, Yuji’s best friend forever, Yuji is tuning his bass guitar as Megumi is fiddling with his drums. The nightclub is packed tonight, tons of eager girls and fans surrounding them.

But his mind keeps drifting to you, when would you be coming, would you come, you all had just… gone back to being friends all week, both working, but texting more, and talking more, like you used to. Which he loves so much, he missed your brightness in his life, but also…Now he’s been inside of you, he’s tasted you, and you’ve tasted him.

How does he just go back to normal after it?

It feels almost wrong not dating you after being so intimate, Choso knows he’s a bit old fashioned for a man with a tongue ring, tattoos and a dick piercing, but he actually is old school when it comes to romance. It may be why he had already thought of proposing to Yuki, because that’s just what he felt was right to do, and god nothing he did before came close to you.

That’s what is really messing with him, watching your pretty face flush as he’d squeezed your throat? His tattooed, big hands wrapped on your tiny little neck, your eyes so dilated, as he had you writhing under him. How does he just compute that as his friend?

That’s what you wanted, he supposes he wanted it too, to not date anyone for some time, but now he’s going insane thinking of you, but also he doesn’t want to push something, ruin something. So he has to act unaffected, normal, every morning bringing you a coffee, but now his eyes dip to your cleavage in your pretty work dresses, just a hint, but now he knows what your breasts look like.

Now he knows how those legs feel around his face, around his hips, and knows how it feels to have that heat surrounding him. He’d jerked it to the memories every night since he saw you last, mental images driving him to insanity, to the point it’s difficult to focus on anything else. Even now you dance through his mind, as he keeps peeking at his phone, putting his guitar down then, when he sees it light up.

Angel💜 - I’m out front Cho Bear!

Choso smiles then, and Yuji comes up to him, peeking and smiling. “Hey, it’s my future wife!”

“In your dreams.” Megumi mumbles, smirking lazily when Yuji pouts.

“You’re mean, Megumi! Choso, you gotta hook me up with her. Please!” Choso usually would laugh at that, but now…

He gets irritated at his own brother?

What’s your pussy done to him, jesus.

“You’re still a baby, kiddo.” He ruffles Yuji’s pink spiky hair, earning his brother’s pout.

“But she broke up with that guy you said?”

“Yeah, so, you’re not getting her. She’s too hot for you.” Megumi says, then he chuckles a bit. “Me, though? Maybe.”

Choso glares at Megumi now, twirling his sticks in his hand, lazily looking as you walk through the front doors. “You’re both too young.”

“She’s twenty four, I’m nineteen, it’s not even that big of a deal. Megumi, you’re eighteen so hah!” Yuji says, pointing at him with a laugh. Megumi rolls his eyes.

“For two months-”

“Neither of you. Keep dreaming.” Choso says, waving over at you, and his heart falters when he drinks you in, this pretty black corset and a little plaid skirt with chains, you look so good he…

“Fuck she’s hot.” Yuji whistles, and Choso smacks him on the back of the head. “What are you finally gonna shoot your shot? Been my whole life almost.”

“We’re… just… friends.” He mumbles.

“Then hook your little brother up!”

“Nah. Now shut up, she’s coming.” You bounce up to them, a big smile on your pretty face, it’s like everyone else in the room fades. Choso has always known how beautiful you are, but now it’s ridiculous, how has he had such a pretty best friend, how has it not affected him, until now that he’s had just a taste of you.

And did you ever want to again? You’d been nothing but sweet and friendly, texting him several times a day, pictures of your meals or little selfies, along with all sorts of funny things you find. But that’s how you all were before Ino and Yuki, it was just the same, but now he wants to ask you for the lewdest things.

He wants to slide that skirt up in the bathroom and go down on you, fuck he could do that forever you taste so good, have your wetness dripping down his face, taste you on his lips all night. He gets hard under his dark black jeans thinking of it, shaking himself out of that as you get paused by several guys along the way, all hitting on you.

Of course they are.

But it makes him angry.

Choso is going to suck at this friends with benefits thing, isn’t he? He finally holds out a hand for you, and you take it eagerly, hopping up on the stage and hugging him tightly. He exhales at how good you feel, you’re so small compared to him, he could just pick you up and-

Fuck.

“Cho Bear, I’m so excited! I hope this outfit fits the vibe.” You say, and he stands back, eyeing you up and down, lips parted. You blush just a bit.

“You look so hot. I’ll say it for him.” Yuji says, as Choso is standing there, unable to even fucking speak. God what’s going on with him?

“Thanks, Yuji. Missed you!” You give him a hug, and Yuji enjoys it far too much. “You’ve gotten taller!”

“He’s still short.” Megumi teases, earning Yuji’s glare over your shoulder, he won’t let you go.

“I’m like an inch shorter, ass-”

“You’re all short.” Choso says, earning their glares, and your giggle. You now come over to Megumi, who hugs you too tightly for Choso’s liking, he wishes they were still young enough he could give them whippings, little brats.

“Megumi! Missed you!” You say, and Megumi buries his face in your hair as he holds you too long.

They’d always done this, fawned over you, and it was cute, they were just babies after all, but now Choso wants you to himself, and even their teasing has him riled up. But it’s not as if you’re his, you’re just his friend, and he knows you see them as little brothers, so why is he feeling this way!?

Did you ruin him fucking him once?

“Missed you too. We both did. You look so pretty.” Megumi says now, and you giggle a bit, holding both of their hands.

“You both are trying to suck up to me, stop it. I bet you two get in trouble at college huh?”

“Nah, that’s him.” They say simultaneously, pointing at each other, you roll your eyes with a smile, turning back to Choso, your eyes dart down his body, and that blush comes back, and fuck you blush down your throat, your chest…

“You look beautiful. I’m sorry.” Choso says softly, you shake your head, walking back over to him and letting the boys argue.

“You don’t have to say that, it’s-”

“No, you do. You really do.” He brushes your hair back, and you gasp, eyes locking onto his, and just the slightest touch, drives him insane, especially when he sees the goosebumps rise on your pretty breasts, pressed high in that corset top, one he’d love to rip off you.

“Thank you, Cho. You look really hot.” You say softly, trying to compose yourself, running a finger down his black band shirt, smiling up at him.

“Thank you, I-”

“Choso, Choso!” The girls are lining up in hoards, and he sighs, rolling his eyes a bit, you giggle. “Is that your girlfriend!?”

“No, just my best friend.” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and you tense then, smiling with terse lips.

“Oh good! Can you sign my tits, Choso!” Choso rolls his eyes, and you step back, confusing him a bit.

“I’ll let you get started, I’ll be watching.” You say, and then he stops you, taking your hand gently.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No! No. I’m not cool with all the attention like you, is all.” You say, looking down nervously at your boots.

“Wait, I have a VIP tag, you can drink free all night.” You smile a bit then, and he snatches up the pass, putting it over your neck now, a neck he’d had-

Fuck.

“Thanks Cho, I can’t wait. You’re gonna kill it.” You kiss his cheek now.

“Are you… coming over? After?” He whispers now, in your ear, and you shift a bit nervously.

“I can come over. If you’ll still want to, you will be busy with all these-”

“I want you to. Please.” You step back, looking up at him.

“Of course, but don’t shut yourself off, we’re just…”

“Friends.”

“Yes.”

Choso sighs, looking at you. “Then why do I wanna-”

“Choso!” They’re all coming in hoards, before Choso can finish his sentence, that he wants to fuck you so badly you can’t walk the next day. But now he’s getting posters shoved at him to sign, and you wave at him, bouncing off over to the bar.

Just friends, huh?

Your POV

Choso, Megumi and Yuji absolutely kill the set. Choso is all sweaty now as he finishes the song, holding the mic with one hand, a hand that had been gripping your breast just last week. Lips singing, lips that had sucked your nipples into his mouth. Hips shifting, hips that had pumped in and out, wrecking your pussy, a pussy sore for days.

You can’t just think like that!

Friends, friends, friends.

Megumi and Yuji are playing so well, you remember the three of them in Choso’s garage constantly practicing, you’re so proud of them, they’re like your own little brothers. Choso however, was not like your brother, even before you all had made love, you always saw how hot he was, you always wondered what it would be like to be intimate with him.

He blew your fucking mind, you want more.

It took everything in you not to have begged him to come over, to have not just showed up at his house, fuck to not lift your skirt up and fuck in your little office at work, you were so tempted. It took everything in you to keep it together, playing with your pussy imagining Choso’s tongue ring hitting your clit instead, whining in frustration when nothing worked.

You shift now in your seat, Choso is taking a break, he smiles at you but a really pretty blond comes up to him now, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering something in his ear. You tense as you sip your drink, tasting the tart juice on your tongue, he’s not yours, why should you care? He never has been, and one night of sex didn’t change that.

She’s holding her phone out and laughing, she’s really pretty, you think, Choso laughs a bit, genuinely enjoying her. She looks like Yuki, that’s his type, right? And that’s fine, why do you care, why does the sight of them apparently exchanging numbers make you feel sick to your stomach? When this was all your idea, not Choso’s.

Did Choso even want you, or was this just some… friendship, feeling sorry for you… going along with it? He had talked to you constantly, but he certainly had not hit on you, even when you sent kind of suggestive pics, not once did he ask to see more, or even act like a ‘friend with benefits’ you almost wondered if he wanted to do it again at all.

Until he’d asked you to come over.

You hear your name, and a whistle, and look to your left, mouth dropping open when you see him, the guy that had taken your high school heart and crushed it, Satoru fucking Gojo. How you’d missed his shocking white hair you have no clue, maybe you’d been too absorbed in the show. Now he’s smirking down at you, looking as gorgeous if not more so.

Fucker.

“You really filled out late, hmm? Look hot as fuck.” He says, earning your glare, and he’s smirking more now.

“Fuck off, Gojo.”

“That’s not a good greeting, pretty.” He pouts those full lips at you, standing right in front of you at the bar, towering over you, he’s just a little taller than Choso. He’s got a drink in his hand, you smile at it.

“You drinking a pink pussy?”

“Fuck off it’s yummy.” You both laugh then, you hold out your hand to shake his, but he pulls it in, kissing the back of it.

High school you would be freaking the fuck out at this, but you remember Gojo breaking up with you at prom, and that really hurt at the time. Honestly you were broken over him for a whole damn year after, he’d been such a little shit then, surely he hasn’t changed. But also…

Your mind is wrapped in your best friend, the best friend who is dancing as there is different music playing now, a girl grinding on him. You take a shaky breath, realizing you’re being foolish. You perhaps can’t separate the two, sex from relationships, maybe you do need more experience.

“So… how have you been, pretty?” His words shake you out of your thoughts.

“I’m good, Gojo. You?” You ask, eyes back up to his, swirling blue intense eyes that had your heart in high school.

“I’m really good. Running the family business, so fun.” He rolls his eyes, and you smile at that.

“I’m sure you do great.”

“So you with Choso finally?”

“Oh, no. Still friends.” You blush, looking down at your now empty drink, Satoru takes it from your grip, ordering you a pink pussy. “I don’t want that!”

“We’ll both drink pussy tonight.” He says with an audacious wink, and you gasp at that, earning his chuckle as he hands you the pink drink.

“You’re too much.” You say, sipping it. “Yummy though.”

“Your pussy is yummy?” You gasp again, smacking at his chest, and he throws his head back with laughter, deep and husky.

“Maybe it is.” You say with a shy look down, and he curses softly.

“Oh fuck. You finally lost your pesky virginity?”

You sip the drink, glaring at him over the cup. “Oh fuck off, jock.”

“Not anymore. I’m lazy.”

“Sure you are.” You shove at him again, but he pins you between his arms, pressing you against the bar. “Why now? You didn’t like me enough then.”

“Maybe I was a jock idiot.” He murmurs, leaning far too close, and you feel your heart skip a beat. “Can I get a re-do? Grab some food sometime?”

You take a breath then, inhaling some stupidly expensive cologne. “I don’t know, Gojo, I just got out of a bad breakup.”

“So let’s fuck then.”

“Gojo!” You sigh, head leaning back, he’s chuckling.

“I’m kidding… kinda. A date with adult Gojo, not jock Gojo?”

“Ah, still doing that third person shit.” He sticks his tongue out at you. “Maybe we can grab a bite sometime. But no promises.”

Gojo grins, white teeth glinting, and he backs off, letting you breathe, you see Choso is finishing the dance up, and the girl is kissing on his cheek. You can see his blush from here, see his hand respectfully on her shoulder, while her hands are all over his chest, making your tummy turn.

You’re stupid. You had pined for Gojo, letting Choso go, only to now pine for Choso, and maybe let Gojo go. You can’t be that dumb girl.

Choso looks at you both now, eyes narrowing, and you decide to tiptoe, yanking Gojo down by his dress shirt, kissing his cheek. Choso glares now, leaving that girl finally and coming towards you both. You’re being petty and stupid, all while Satoru Gojo’s lips are almost against yours now, his big hand cupping your face.

“You did lose it, huh?” He teases, you snort, nodding now. “Aww you’re not such a goody goody.”

“You’re still a dick, Gojo.” You lean down, stepping back, only for him to bend low and kiss your cheek now, soft lips that were your first kiss all those years ago.

“Give me your number, little brat.” He murmurs.

“Oh fine. Don’t annoy me too much.” You give him your phone number as Choso walks by, and Gojo smiles at him.

“Great show, man, you killed it.” He says, and Choso smiles back a bit, nodding and holding a hand out.

“Thanks man. Fuck your best friend though.”

“I know, shit move.” Gojo says, shaking his head. “Pussy really fucks your head up though, y’know?”

“I do know. Catching up?” He asks now, looking at you directly, and you nod just a bit, as Gojo checks his phone.

“Shit, gotta go. Text me, pretty?” He asks you, kissing your cheek again, you sigh, shrugging one bare shoulder.

“Maybe.”

“Ouch.” He shivers again, grinning at Choso. “You’ve got a mean ass, hot ass best friend you know. Later!” Gojo’s lanky form disappears, leaving you and Choso alone, tense, just staring at each other.

“Great show, Choso.” You say, and he scoffs, glaring now. “What?”

“Gojo, really?”

“Really what? I told him maybe a drink. What’d you tell the pretty blond?” You ask then, and Choso flushes, looking away.

“You told me don’t hold back. Just friends.”

“Yep. So.”

“But Gojo?”

“What about it? What do you care?” You set your drink down then, grabbing your purse and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Don’t go! What’s your problem?”

“That I sucked so bad at sex you didn’t want to again.” You whisper, choking up now, and his violet eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open, but you walk away, pressing through the writhing sea of bodies.

“Wait, what!?”

“Great show. I didn’t miss a single one you know.” He stops you then, in front of the building, in the cool night air, which you suck in greedily, turning you to him.

“You didn’t?” He asks softly.

“Not one. How could I? I’m so proud of you. I just hung out at the back of the club so you wouldn’t know.” Choso exhales, closing his eyes now.

“Why do you think I don’t wanna feel your perfect pussy again?” He whispers, making your pussy clench around nothing, you bite your lower lip, drawing his attention to it, he steps closer to you, taking over your senses.

“You didn’t bring it up all week! Even after pics of me in my slutty ass nightie I sent.”

“I thought you slept in that!?”

“No!”

“I didn’t think you wanted to. I was afraid it was too weird. And you didn’t bring it up again, either… I can’t just ask for more, it seems disrespectful!”

“You could have. I would have sent them. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not! Don’t just go home. Please, come over.” He pulls you flush against him now, and your lashes flutter shut.

“Invite the pretty girl over, don’t let me ruin-” Choso slams his lips on yours, and fuck it feels so good, you whine out softly, tip toeing as he bends down, pressing you against the brick wall of the club. His hands grip your waist, as he pulls back, eyes lidded.

“I want you so fucking bad. Can’t get it out of my head.” He says against your lips, you taste his sweet breath, mingling with yours, your hands come to grip his band shirt, feeling the sweat of him, only serving to turn you on more, especially when his thigh presses between yours.

“This is a bad idea. We shouldn’t have.” You say then, as you grind on his leg, crying out softly.

“Fuck…” He moans so quiet, his hands pressing into your waist, burning you through your corset. “No, we should do it again.”

“What!?”

“Yes, to… prove we can just… do that…”

“Oh, yes… maybe… that’s it…” He slides your skirt up, pulling his thigh away, finding you sopping wet over your panties, his eyes flutter shut as you cry out, back arching. “Not here.”

“Not here. Fuck, can you wait till I take you home?” He asks, and you shake your head, especially when his finger sinks into your heat, filling you so good, finger pressing on that spot, making you see stars in the night.

“Please.” You whisper, soaking wet, dripping down his fingers.

“I need you in my bed, not just-”

“Car.”

He blinks then, in shock at your boldness, and maybe you were too, but you can’t stand it, the throbbing need. “In the car?”

“Bathroom.”

“Oh fuck, you’re down to one word sentences, shit.” He looks around, as if thinking of his best options. “What if I get you off in the car then we go back to my place? Will that work?”

“Maybe.” He laughs a bit softly, caressing your jaw.

“I missed kissing you already.”

“Fuck.” You can’t form more than one word, not when he’s rubbing your clit right outside this club, and kissing you again, tongue ring clicking against your teeth, tongue devouring your mouth.

“You’re so wet, I… come on.” He drags you eagerly through the club, women are trying to stop him, but he ignores them completely, dragging you back in the club where you haven’t seen. “There’s a… private room for the band back here.”

He shuts the door to the room with a quiet click, locking it and turning to you then, picking you up like it’s nothing, carrying you to the little couch in the room, kissing your lips again, hungry now. He’s moaning over you, tongues entwining, and you can’t stop your hips from shifting up. He eagerly slides up your skirt, as you struggle to breathe a bit in your top.

“Is it uncomfy?” He asks gently.

“When I lay down, yeah, um… not when I sit up.”

“Oh shit, okay.” He sits you up carefully, turning you so your legs are on the edge of the couch, between your thighs now, and you tug at the pigtails he has on, earning a look of hunger in his violet gaze. “You look so fucking hot tonight.”

“You do. Ah!” He’s kissing up your thighs now, spreading them, and you’re pulling more and more. “Cho, please…”

“Please what, angel?” He whispers, making you jerk when his tongue traces the top of your inner thigh, his breath against your pussy. He shoves your thong to the side, revealing glistening lips, moaning. “Fuck you weren’t even this wet last time.”

“You on that stage did things.” You admit, and he blushes, pulling your hips towards his face, taking your hand and making you hold your panties aside.

“What do you want, use your words. And more than one.”  He teases, and you glare now.

“You know…”

“Say it.”

“Make me cum with your tongue, please.” He groans now, then he’s pulling you to him, tongue swiping up your slit, and you have to cover your mouth to stop the scream that comes out.

“This taste…” He whispers, your hand clutches the panties so hard they dig in, when he spreads your pussy lips, sliding his tongue inside. You’re soaking his face at an embarrassing speed, thighs trembling when he flicks it up, looking up at you now.

“Cho… fuck…” You whisper, breasts heaving in the corset as you look down at him. “Take em off.”

He slips them off quickly, tossing your thong on the floor, and burying his face back against you, tongue flicking so fast you can’t take it, slipping two thick fingers in your slick pussy. He stretches you out so good, your head falls back, pulling on his pigtails for more, as his tongue and fingers work you so perfectly. You’re overheated, mind whirling, vision darkening.

Choso’s touches, his kisses, his fingers pumping in and out do you in. You cover your face with both hands, legs shaking violently as your orgasm hits so hard, and you’re gushing down his face, his hand. He drinks you up, the sounds loud and lewd, slurping up every bit that pours, your walls fluttering. You yank him up again now, and drag his lips to yours, tasting yourself on them.

He moans into your mouth as you rub him over his jeans, making him hiss, stopping your hand. “Angel I’m fine just making you cum.”

“Want your cock. Now.” He blinks again, looking at you in surprise. “You felt so good in me, please.”

“Fuck… I don’t have a…”

“I don’t care.” You’ve unzipped him now, letting out his thick length, pumping it with your hand, up and down. “I never haven’t used one, I’m clean.”

“Me too… I always used one… fuck, we’re doing this, oh my god...” He flips you now, to where you’re straddling him on the couch, and starts grinding you against his cock, you’re clutching him as you slide back and forth, head lolling to the side for his kisses. “You feel so good, I wanted to fuck you so bad all week.”

“No…”

“Yes, fuck yes. I swear. Jerked off every night.” You gasp then, when he slides into you, filling you so full, his cock stretching your slick cunt out. You both pause, at the feeling of him without a condom, your breath comes out in little pants, as does his, his eyes rolling back for a moment. “Oh fuck you feel even better, you’re so hot-”

You slam your lips on his now, rolling your hips, and he’s groaning into your lips, bucking his hips up, slamming into your cervix. “I haven’t been on top… I don’t…”

“I’ll use you then, huh baby?” He whispers, mentally fucking you, as you look at him in desire, nodding, as if you know what the fuck he means. “Hold on to me.”

You do as he says, still confused, wrapping your arms around him, then he’s fucking up into you, so hard you cum all over his cock, making him slow, cheeks flushed, lips glossy, pulling at your corset and biting and sucking on your exposed breasts hungrily. He keeps fucking up into you, and you’re gushing down his jeans as he does, feeling the denim brush your sensitive skin.

“Choso… Choso…” You’re crying out, and he’s crying out your name, the squishing of your pussy louder as he fucks harder, his piercing rolling on your walls as his weeping tip knocks your cervix.

“You feel so perfect, fuck you’re pretty, why would… you think I… wouldn’t want you…” He whispers, fucking you so good tears are falling from your eyes, you’re sniffling, trying to grasp at him, to keep you tethered. “Wanna cum in your perfect pussy, fill you up.”

“Choso!” You feel yourself closer and closer, as he’s muttering to himself, to you, grabbing your ass so hard, dragging you down his length, over and over. “Why… would you think… I didn’t…want you!?”

“You’re too p-pretty-”

“Fuck off. Fuck me.” Your head is thrown back now, hair falling down your back as he does just that, biting on your throat now, as you cum again, this time it sends shockwaves, you realize Choso was gentler last time, as he pounds up hard. You pull back and see his pussy drunk eyes, matching your cock drunk ones.

His hand comes to pull your hair at the base, his thrusts slowing, moving his hips just so as you’re pulsing around his cock. “Close… close, you feel too good, you feel so… cum again, f’me please. Please.”

He’s rubbing your clit between you both now, and you shatter over him, his lips try to absorb some of the sound but it’s nearly impossible, you’ve completely lost any sense, just how good Choso Kamo feels inside you, raw. He huffs now, fucking faster and faster, before pulling you up and off him, still on his lap, and you watch the white ropes of cum pouring all over.

He’s moaning so sexy, looking right at you, free hand cupping your face, and your hand joins his, finishing pumping out his cum, making him gasp. “Feel s’good, angel, s’good.” He whispers.

“You felt so good, Choso. M’weak…” You say softly, looking at where your hands are joined, his cum all over both of them now.

“I wanted to cum in you so bad, but that’s… intimate. Huh?” He says softly, searching your eyes, and you nod a bit, looking around and grabbing tissues, cleaning him and you up carefully. He’s struggling to get a breath, as you realize what you’ve done, panicking. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” You pull on your panties now, with shaky hands, pussy aching from him, entire body lit up. You wanna cuddle him, kiss him, sleep with him all damn night, this isn’t normal this-

“Please, I’ll think I did something wrong again.” He whispers, kissing your neck, holding you against him.

“I suck at the um… friends with benefits thing, Is all.”

“Suck, no you’re… amazing. What do you mean? Pussy is perfect.” You turn then, nervously looking up at him.

“Cho, how serious will you get with a girl before you stop fucking me?” He blinks then, shaking his head.

“I… I’m not gonna date someone any time soon, I told you…”

“So if you go on dates, you’ll still…”

“I mean, until it’s a full relationship, yes. What about you?” He asks then, as he adjusts his jeans.

“Of course I agree. So if you go on dates… as long as you don’t…”

“I would never sleep with someone and not tell you, especially if we’re not using anything. I’m not like that anyway.” He says, looking down at you now. “You’re the first like this for me too. I don’t wanna fuck up.”

“I just need to separate it, that's all.” You say, and his mouth opens, but the door knocks, and you head toward it.

“Separate what?” He asks, pausing you at the door.

“Sex from… feelings I guess.” You mumble, feeling mortified. Choso gulps now, cupping your face in his hands. “I won’t sleep with anyone without telling you either, I promise.”

“And will you sleep with anyone? With Gojo?” He asks, the knocks continue, and he sighs. “In a minute!”

“With Gojo? I can’t stand him. I just… said maybe we’d catch up. What about you and-”

“You were in love with him.”

“And!? What do you care, you’re just my friend, right?” He glares, jaw locking, pressing his hand against your pussy, you gasp.

“Friend that just made you cum over and over.” He whispers, so you lean close, so close you can taste him.

“And I made you cum all over, so much cum too.” You whisper back, before stepping away, taking a breath, leaving him visibly shaken, his eyes dilating as he presses against you. “We will be honest, always. If you don’t want to… fuck me… you can just tell me, okay?”

“As if that’ll happen.” He stops you once more, pressing you against the door, kissing you again. You pull back.

“Only around sex, for kissing. Right?” He glares again, you want his kiss, you want all of Choso, you feel you’ve opened some stupid can of worms now.

“Maybe I wanna fuck you again, cum in-”

Knock Knock Knock.

“Choso!” You hear Yuji whining, and you both separate quickly, you try to get yourself together.

“Come to my place tonight.” He says softly, as he goes to open the door. You can’t stand another night in his arms, you’re already too attached, being just too stupid, what were you thinking? Maybe you didn’t think you’d feel all this…

“Maybe we can see each other tomorrow?” He frowns then, nodding, and you kiss his cheek, before darting out, ignoring everything, pussy throbbing, entire body ignited, and your heart, your mind!?

You’re confused. All you know is you can’t stand the thought of your best friend with someone, and that’s against the rules you all just made. You’re going to have to shove it back, going to have to…

But how!? How when he looked at you like that while he fucked you raw.

You take a breath, heading back into the club, to say something, anything, maybe you’re rude, maybe…

Choso’s sitting next to her, that girl, and they’re laughing.

After he was inside you.

You turn away before you make a fool of yourself, it’s just sex, it’s just sex, you’re just friends.

You get into the back of the ride you order, as your screen lights up, but it’s not Cho Bear…

It’s Satoru Gojo.

Tag List: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @makingtimemine @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @teacupwaifu @lana18918 @bigbird789  @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @aldebrana @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @jazzthatonewriterchick @yung-notorious @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @labelt-san  @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff @mysouleaten @city-of-lovers @teddiiursula @plimplimmeiododoi

Taglist open! Hope I got everyone <3 This is gonna be messy, aha, can't wait to hear your thoughts!!

[rootedinrevisions]

Five Years

SUMMARY: Five years of friendship. Years of silent longing. One night that changes everything. When Tyler Owens, a charming, rugged man with a penchant for keeping things casual, finds himself at a crossroads with the woman he's secretly loved for years, he realizes he might have waited too long. After one too many moments where you've been left wanting more, you find yourself torn between the comfort of their deep connection and the pain of being stuck in the friend zone. Tyler has one last shot to show you that he’s not just the man you turn to in the hard moments—but the man who can make you believe in love, again.

A/N: Sorry for all the angsty Tyler lately! It's just been the mood/vibe lately so I've been rolling with it! Thanks to the person who sent this request in! I hope you like it!

PROMPT: "What was he doing back there? Flirting with you like he has a fucking chance?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Angst.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

It’s late, the kind of quiet that comes when the night has softened everything into shadows. You and Tyler are back in the motel room, tangled together in bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm drapes over you, and you’re curled into his side, your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The scent of whiskey lingers between you, mingling with the warmth of his skin, and you can still taste him faintly on your lips. Another night, another round of kisses exchanged under the dim motel lights, like something fragile and fleeting.

He stirs, his hand brushing along your back, and you wonder if he’s on the edge of sleep or just drifting in that space in between like you are. For a moment, you’re tempted to ask him the question that’s always on the tip of your tongue: What are we doing?

Instead, you stay silent, breathing in sync with him, wondering if he can feel the way your heart skips each time he holds you like this. He shifts, drawing you a little closer, and you catch a glimpse of something in his expression—something soft, maybe even vulnerable. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and slightly slurred. “You’re comfortable, right?” His hand rests at the curve of your hip, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you.

You nod, managing a quiet, “Yeah. Always.” You know he’ll pretend he doesn’t remember this in the morning, brush it off like it’s nothing, and you’ll let him because it’s easier that way. But tonight, you can pretend a little too—that these quiet moments mean the same to him as they do to you.

You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat beneath your ear, wondering how much longer you can keep pretending before you’re forced to admit the truth—to yourself, if not to him.

Then, out of nowhere, he says, “So… I just found out I’m being inducted into the PBR Hall of Fame.”

You blink, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. A smile lights up your face. “Tyler, that’s amazing! I mean, I knew you were a big deal, but… Hall of Fame?”

He chuckles softly, scratching the back of his head with that familiar modesty. “Yeah, kinda crazy, huh? Guess all those years getting tossed around finally paid off.”

You laugh, knowing he’s downplaying it. You’ve seen some of those old videos, clips of him taking on bulls with more force and heart than anyone you’d ever met. 

“No one deserves it more than you,” you say softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he looks away, and then, clearing his throat, he glances back at you. 

“Thanks, means a lot,” he says, his voice softer. Then, after a moment, he adds, “Actually… I get a plus one to the induction ceremony. I was thinking maybe you’d want to come with me?”

Your heart skips at that. He doesn’t even pause to consider anyone else; he’s asking you. For a moment, you feel a surge of excitement that maybe this is more than just a friendly invite. But just as quickly, doubt seeps in. If he had a girlfriend, he’d take her, wouldn’t he? A familiar ache settles in your chest, the quiet reminder that maybe this is just about convenience for him.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, and casual. “I mean, you could take anyone.”

He glances at you with a soft smile, his eyes sincere. “Nah. Can’t think of anyone better. You’d come, right?”

The words are on the tip of your tongue—Of course, I’ll go. 

Instead, you hesitate, just for a second, wondering if this is just a placeholder invitation until he finds someone to fill the spot he’s never openly said he wants to be filled. But you can’t bear the thought of missing the moment, so you nod, managing a smile. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins, pulling you back into his chest, and you settle against him, feeling the warmth of his arm around you. But even as you breathe him in, letting the steady beat of his heart calm you, a question begins to take root in your mind. Where do we really stand, Tyler?

It’s a question you keep to yourself, swallowing it down as you close your eyes and listen to the silence settle around you once again.

* * * * *

The ballroom buzzed with energy and anticipation, and you could sense the excitement radiating from Tyler beside you. The event space was elegantly decorated, with every table set with crystal glasses and gleaming silverware. But you hardly noticed any of it; all your focus was on Tyler. This was his night. And you were honored to be here with him, even if you didn’t quite know what that meant for the two of you.

You eventually found your way to your seats near the front of the room, and Tyler’s hand brushed against yours as you sat down. His fingers lingered just a moment, a subtle contact that sent a rush of warmth up your arm. 

Before you could say anything, the lights dimmed as the emcee took to the stage, announcing the start of the ceremony. The audience fell quiet, and Tyler’s hand was warm on your knee, a comforting weight that made your heart race. You glanced down at his hand, then back up to his face, wondering if he even realized the effect he had on you.

A part of you wanted to reach for his hand again, to close the gap between you both once and for all, but you stayed still, holding your breath as the ceremony began.

As the awards were announced one by one, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Tyler. He seemed to sit straighter with each name called, his eyes never leaving the stage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the emcee announced Tyler’s name, and the room burst into applause. You clapped the loudest, your heart swelling with pride.

You watched as Tyler walked to the stage, his stride steady and confident, shoulders back with that natural charisma he carried wherever he went. When he accepted his award, he stood there with his plaque, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on you. The spotlight hit his face, highlighting the small, crooked smile you knew so well. And his eyes—dark, intense, focused on you—seemed to say something unspoken.

You felt your breath catch, frozen under his gaze, and for a second, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

His acceptance speech was simple and heartfelt. He thanked the people who had been there with him through the highs and lows. He spoke of long, hard days, the sacrifices he’d made, and the passion that drove him. But you could’ve sworn that when he mentioned his gratitude for “the people who kept him grounded,” his eyes found you once again.

As Tyler wrapped up his speech and made his way back to his seat, you barely had a chance to process the pride you felt for him, for everything he’d accomplished. But that brief moment when he’d looked at you on stage lingered in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Could it have meant something more?

He sat back down next to you, and you leaned over, unable to keep the smile from your face. “That was incredible, Ty. I’m so proud of you.”

He looked at you, a soft chuckle escaping as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I think I might’ve fumbled a little bit up there.”

“Not even close,” you replied, squeezing his arm. “You were perfect.”

The atmosphere at the afterparty was more relaxed, a contrast to the formality of the ceremony.

The room buzzes with laughter and clinking glasses, everyone here to celebrate the achievements of legends, past and present. You’re standing beside Tyler, trying to blend into the background of the room’s energy. But then, without warning, Tyler reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before intertwining them completely. It’s such a small gesture, but it sends a rush of warmth through you. He glances at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment, almost as if he’s silently asking if this is okay, if you’re okay. You squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand that, yes, this is more than okay.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he says, his voice low and soft. He leads you through the crowd toward a man with a broad smile and lines etched deep around his eyes—Tyler’s old mentor. Tyler introduces you with a genuine warmth that makes you feel like you belong here, like you’re not just an accessory to his big night but someone he wants by his side.

As they begin chatting, Tyler’s hand drifts to your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your hip as he pulls you closer, fitting you against his side. You feel a warmth blossom in your chest, and for a moment, the nagging doubts you’d been harboring vanish. His mentor jokes about old times, and Tyler laughs, giving your waist a small squeeze as if to share the moment with you. You let yourself lean into him, letting his warmth melt away the walls you’d tried to build around your heart.

But then, as the conversation comes to a close, he lets go. Just like that, his hand falls from your waist, and he takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, a casual smile on his face. He glances around the room, no longer focused on you, and the sudden distance sends a chill down your spine. You’re standing side by side, but the connection feels fractured, like a missed beat. He begins walking next to you, his attention now elsewhere, no hand-holding, no gentle touches to keep you close.

Half an hour later you’re standing next to Tyler, trying to stay engaged with the conversation he’s having with an old friend he used to ride with, someone who knows a side of him you’ve only heard about in stories. Tyler’s posture is easy, his laugh warm and unguarded in a way that you rarely get to see. You watch him as he reminisces, letting yourself get lost in the sound of his laughter, in the way his eyes light up with a spark of the past. But as they continue to talk, it becomes clear that he’s in his own world, like you’re not even there.

The laughter between them grows, each memory shared drawing them further back into the years before you knew him. You shift your weight, feeling a slight ache in your chest as you realize just how separate you feel from this part of his life. A sense of loneliness creeps in, one you can’t shake, and you find yourself glancing toward the bar. Maybe a drink will help dull the sting.

You start to turn, your heart heavy, but just then, you feel Tyler’s hand reach out, his fingers wrapping gently around yours. The touch is so familiar, so comforting, and for a brief second, that hopeful warmth flickers back to life. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye, a hint of something unreadable there.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter, as if trying to break through to you despite the noise around.

You swallow, forcing a smile to cover the twinge of sadness that’s growing in your chest. “Yeah,” you say softly, nodding toward the bar. “Just thirsty. Thought I’d grab a drink.”

He nods, giving your hand a slight squeeze before letting go, turning back to his friend with that easy laugh that now feels like a barrier you can’t quite cross. You turn away, your heart sinking as you walk toward the bar, feeling the absence of his hand like a chill creeping over your skin. You can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that settles heavy and cold. Just moments ago, he was intertwining your fingers, holding you close with his hand on your waist, like you were more than just a companion for the night.

How did it change so quickly? How did he go from holding you, grounding you with those intimate touches, to leaving you in this limbo of almost but not quite? You realize that, despite how much he means to you, there’s a line between you that he doesn’t seem ready to cross. And that thought hurts more than you want to admit.

You’re leaning against the bar, lost in thought, when a voice breaks through the noise, smooth and warm. “Hey there. You look like you could use some company.”

You glance up to find a guy with a charming grin and a relaxed confidence that’s instantly disarming. He extends a hand. “Eli Vastbinder,” he says. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

For a moment, you’re taken off guard, but you shake his hand and introduce yourself, motioning to where Tyler’s standing in the distance. “I’m here with Tyler Owens.”

At the mention of Tyler’s name, a flicker of something—maybe disappointment, maybe surprise—crosses Eli’s face before he recovers his smile. “Owens, huh? How do you know the Tornado Wrangler?”

You can’t help but laugh at the nickname, feeling some of the tension ease as you explain. “We work together. I help him run his YouTube channel.”

Eli’s gaze shifts from Tyler back to you, a curious glint in his eye as if he’s sizing up the situation. He doesn’t linger on it for long, though, before flashing you a daring smile. “So, just coworkers, huh? In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I bought you a drink?”

The question lingers, sparking a twist of hesitation in your chest. You glance over at Tyler, hoping for some kind of sign, some acknowledgment of what you’re feeling. Your eyes meet his, and he offers you a casual smile before turning his attention back to his friend. The moment leaves you cold—another reminder of all the times he’s pulled you close, only to leave you feeling as if you’re just out of reach.

You turn back to Eli, a decision settling in your mind. Tyler isn’t claiming you. He never has. And he’s had five years to do so.

You give Eli a small smile. “Sure, why not?”

Eli’s grin widens as he orders your drink, leaning in just slightly as he asks about your work with Tyler. He’s charming, effortlessly making you feel seen and appreciated. There’s a warm intensity in his gaze, like he’s genuinely interested in hearing about your life, in learning the pieces of you that Tyler seems to take for granted. You laugh at his jokes, leaning in as he tells stories about the crazy things he’s seen on the road. Every so often, his hand brushes yours, sending a little thrill through you—like something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in far too long.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the weight lifting from your shoulders. There’s no ambiguity with Eli; his attention is clear, unburdened by mixed signals or unspoken boundaries. It’s refreshing, exciting, even, to be the center of someone’s focus without second-guessing their intentions.

You glance over at Tyler once more, but he’s still wrapped up in conversation, seemingly unaware of the ache you’ve carried alone. A part of you wants him to notice, to see what’s happening, to finally feel the urgency you’ve held onto for years. But there’s another part of you that’s finished waiting.

As you turn back to Eli, you find yourself smiling, the kind of smile that feels like letting go.

You’re laughing at something Eli just said, a relaxed warmth in your chest that’s been missing around Tyler lately, when you feel a familiar presence behind you. You glance back, and there he is—Tyler, wearing that easy smile that’s disarmed you a hundred times before. He leans close, his hand slipping around your waist, fingers warm and possessive against your hip. “Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, the pet name rolling off his tongue as naturally as the smirk tugging at his lips.

But Tyler doesn’t stop there. His gaze shifts to Eli, assessing him for a beat, and then extends a hand. “I see you’ve met my date,” he says, voice casual but with a certain edge, like a claim staked.

You freeze, glancing up at him, surprised and confused by his sudden assertiveness. Eli’s expression mirrors your own—slightly perplexed, eyebrows lifting as he takes Tyler’s hand and shakes it firmly. His eyes flicker back to you, questioning. “Date? I thought you two were just coworkers,” he remarks, eyes shifting meaningfully to Tyler’s hand, still resting on your hip.

Before you can answer, Tyler lets out a dismissive scoff, as if the notion of you two being “just coworkers” is absurd. “Coworkers?” he echoes, his hand tightening just a fraction. “Yeah, we’re a little closer than that.” He shoots a look at you that’s both playful and possessive.

You feel your blood simmer, heat rising in your chest at the presumption in his tone. As if you’re some claim he can lay when it’s convenient, without any real commitment. You step out of his grip, your voice firm as you say, “We are just coworkers.” The words come out sharper than you intend, but you don’t soften them.

Tyler’s smile falters, his brow furrowing, but you’ve already turned away, excusing yourself quickly to Eli before slipping out toward the exit.

Humiliation washes over you, prickling your skin as you push through the crowd, needing fresh air, needing space. You had been enjoying a perfectly nice conversation with Eli, feeling appreciated and even flattered, until Tyler decided to swoop in and turn the moment into something possessive and confusing.

As you reach the hallway, you feel a sharp sting behind your eyes. Tears blur your vision, and you blink them back, furious with yourself for letting Tyler get to you like this. You’re tired—tired of being in his orbit only when he wants you to be, of being treated as something more only when it suits him. Because heaven forbid another guy notices you.

The hallway is quiet, save for the soft murmur of voices drifting from the ballroom as you stand there, waiting for the elevator. The moment stretches, tense and thick, when you hear his footsteps behind you, his voice calling your name.

You don’t turn around. “Tyler… don’t.” The plea is barely above a whisper, but he ignores it, closing the distance between you, his face etched with frustration.

“What was he doing back there?” he asks, motioning down the hall toward the ballroom, his tone hard, possessive. “Flirting with you like he has a chance?”

Your heart twists painfully at his words. His tone says it all—like he assumes you’re his, like it’s obvious. Like you should know.

But you’re done with the assumptions. The words spill out before you can stop them, thick with months, years, of unspoken hurt. “And why would you care, Tyler?” Your voice cracks, and you feel the first tear slip down your cheek, quickly followed by another. “It’s not like we’re together, right? You said it yourself—we’ll never be anything more than friends. We’re just…” You falter, searching for the right words, but the truth tumbles out, raw and painful. “We’re just really close, and we make out sometimes. Nothing more.”

The weight of it hangs in the air, and you can see the impact of your words in the way his face falls, his expression softening, regretful. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out, but you shake your head, a mix of anger and sadness bubbling to the surface.

“No, Tyler.” You step back, keeping the space between you. “I’m done. I’m done with this… with you.” Your voice shakes, but the conviction is there, clear and sharp. “I’m done not being good enough. Done being yours only when you want someone on your arm or in your bed. I can’t keep doing this.” You wipe a tear from your cheek, gathering whatever strength you have left. “I’m done with everything. Our friendship. The channel. All of it.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open with a quiet chime. You glance back at him one last time, taking in the hurt and confusion in his eyes. 

“Go back to the party, Tyler. It’s your night. You deserve it.”

You step into the elevator, pressing the button as the doors start to close. The last thing you see before they shut is him standing there, looking lost and completely, utterly alone.

Back in the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you feel the emotions from the hallway encounter with Tyler crash over you. It’s almost overwhelming, but you shake your head, determined to focus on the immediate task. You kick off your heels and reach for the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it slide down as the gown falls in a pool around your feet. You step out of it, scooping it up to drape over the chair, and head to your bag, ready to change and leave before you can overthink it.

Digging through your clothes, you pull out the first shirt, but frustration prickles at you when you realize it’s one of Tyler’s. With an annoyed huff, you toss it on the bed. You dig deeper, pulling out another… his again. Why didn’t I pack more of my own clothes? you think bitterly, remembering that his shirts have been your usual comfort, your routine.

Finally, you find one of your own t-shirts and pull it on, then slide into a pair of jeans. You run a hand over your face, taking a deep breath to keep yourself from falling apart, and open your suitcase, methodically folding the rest of your things and stowing them away. As you pack, a plan begins to form, each step sounding clearer in your mind. You’ll finish packing, get a car downstairs to a nearby hotel for the night, and fly back tomorrow. It might be an awkward plane ride home, but you’ll put in headphones, turn away, and then… you’ll walk away from Tyler James Owens for good.

With your bag nearly ready, you look around the room one last time, eyes falling on the small pile of his things on the bed. His shirts, the ones you’ve wrapped yourself in so many times, now just reminders of all the blurred lines that never became anything real. You turn away, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, willing the resolve to carry you through whatever comes next.

You reach for the handle of your suitcase, ready to walk out of Tyler’s life for good, when the hotel room door opens behind you. Your heart races, and for a second you want to pretend you don’t notice him there, but when you turn, his expression says he’s already figured out exactly what’s happening. His eyes drop to the half-packed suitcase, then back to your face. His look of confusion shifts into something desperate.

“Please,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, almost raw. “Please, stay. We can talk about this. Just… don’t leave. Not like this.”

You shake your head, fighting the tears that are already building again. “Tyler, I’m done,” you say, your voice trembling. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either. You keep me close enough to feel like there’s something between us, but it’s never anything more. It’s just not fair anymore.”

You curse under your breath, blinking hard as the tears spill over. You don’t want him to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, hurt. Swallowing back a sob, you start to walk past him, head held high even as you feel yourself shattering. Just as your hand reaches for the door, he says it. Those three words you’ve been waiting for, holding onto, for what feels like forever.

“I love you.”

It stops you cold, and you stand there, hand frozen on the doorknob, not sure if you actually heard him or if it’s just some desperate wish in your mind. But then he speaks again.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice steady, almost pleading. “And if you love me—if you can still love me—then I’m asking you to stay and just… hear me out. But if you’re done with me, really done, and I’ve already lost you… then go.”

The silence hangs between you, thick and charged. You turn slowly, meeting his gaze, and there’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Vulnerability, sincerity, something real and unguarded. He’s finally opened himself up, given you the one thing you’ve been longing to hear, but the choice to stay or leave is yours.

Your chest tightens as you search his face, feeling the weight of all the years, the almosts, the near-misses, the longing. He stands there, his hands clenched at his sides, waiting, as if he’s holding his breath.

“You… really love me?” you whisper, the words barely audible.

“Yes,” he breathes, stepping toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I just… didn’t know how to show it, and I was afraid if I did, you’d walk away. But losing you… that’s the one thing I’m really afraid of.”

You take a shaky breath, looking into his eyes, feeling every bit of his honesty, and for the first time, he’s offering you everything, without conditions, without holding back. The pain and hurt are still there, but as he waits, the tears in his own eyes now, you feel something else rising to the surface—a glimmer of hope.

The words are out before you can stop them.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Tyler steps forward, his eyes searching yours as if trying to understand the storm inside you. He reaches up, hesitantly at first, as though unsure if you’ll pull away. But when you don’t, his hands gently cup your face, his touch warm and grounding. His thumbs swipe at the tears still streaking down your cheeks, wiping them away as if he can erase all the pain he’s caused with one simple gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry. For not telling you sooner, for not making a move sooner… for making you feel like you don’t matter. For making you cry. You deserve so much more than that.”

You’re frozen, his words sinking deep into the cracks of your heart that you didn’t even know were there. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, a silent apology that speaks louder than anything else could.

He takes a deep breath, his voice low but sincere. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m asking… can you give me another chance? To do it right this time? To take you on a real date, to buy you flowers, to tell the world that you’re mine… to be proud to have you by my side. I want to do this right, with you. Will you give me one more chance?”

The weight of his words hangs between you, and you feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin to crack. He’s standing there, fully exposed, offering you everything he’s held back for so long. The room feels smaller, the air thicker as you look into his eyes, where you see nothing but vulnerability and hope.

You swallow hard, emotions warring inside you. You’ve wanted this—wanted him—to say it, to fight for you. And now that he is, you’re not sure whether to run or to stay. But as you stand there, feeling the sincerity in his touch and his words, something shifts. The hurt, the confusion, the loneliness—it all starts to unravel, replaced by a flicker of something new: hope.

You take a breath, your voice barely more than a whisper, but clear enough for him to hear. “Last chance, Owens.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s softer, more relieved than triumphant. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment. Instead, he just pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug that’s full of promise, the kind that says he’s never letting you go. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe him.

You stand there, still in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. The tension that had built up over the last few days—hell, the last few years—seems to fade away in that moment. Tyler’s hands are warm on your back, his arms strong around you as if he’s holding on, not just to you, but to everything that was between you two. His breath is steady, the pulse in his chest calming yours. He doesn’t let go, not yet. You don’t want him to.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There’s no need to. Words were said, the hurt was aired out, and now, the only thing left is the silence between you—a silence that feels like the promise of something better, something real.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft, full of regret and hope. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears. "I meant every word," he says quietly, his voice steady but raw. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

You nod, feeling something inside you shift, finally able to let go of the heaviness that had been pulling at you for far too long. You offer him a small smile, your fingers brushing his lightly as you give him a gentle squeeze.

He exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Hey…” His voice is quieter now, almost like he's considering his next words carefully. "How about we skip the rest of the party downstairs? We can grab some pizza, put on a movie, just... relax in here."

You glance at him, surprised by the suggestion, but something about the simplicity of it feels perfect. You nod, the corners of your mouth lifting into a genuine smile. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

Tyler’s eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. “Good. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll order the pizza. Whatever you want.”

You feel a sudden sense of relief wash over you. It’s not just the break from the chaos of the night, but the quiet, intimate comfort of knowing that it’s just the two of you, no expectations, no pressure. 

Tyler watches you for a moment, his smile softening as he watches you dig through your suitcase for something comfortable. You pull out a pair of sweatpants, replacing your jeans, and as you move to crawl onto the bed, he’s already a step ahead of you.

Before you can sit down, he reaches for the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it up over your head. You freeze, giving him a confused look, about to protest. "Tyler, I’m really not in the mood—"

He cuts you off with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Not like that," he says, his voice teasing but warm. "Trust me, I’m not asking for anything like that."

Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, but Tyler doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it. Instead, he reaches down into your suitcase and pulls out one of the t-shirts you had tossed aside earlier—one of his shirts. He holds it out to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Here,” he says, “put this one on instead.”

You take the shirt from him, still a little baffled. “What’s wrong with my other shirt?”

Tyler grins, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He steps closer, leaning down slightly as if he’s about to let you in on a secret. 

“Because it’s not your boyfriend’s,” he says, his voice low and almost teasing. “If you’re gonna be my girl, you wear my shirt to bed.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. It’s the little things like this—the small gestures, the inside jokes, the way he’s already making you feel like you belong—that make the tension from earlier seem a little less heavy.

You slip the shirt on, and Tyler's eyes soften when he sees you in it, the way it fits just right, the way it looks like it belongs on you. You glance up at him as you finish adjusting it, your voice quieter now, full of warmth. “This better for you, boyfriend?”

"Yes." He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "I think you look pretty damn perfect in it."

You laugh softly, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened earlier melts away, leaving you with nothing but the quiet comfort of his presence. You sit down on the bed, pulling the blankets up and patting the spot beside you. "So, pizza and movies?"

Tyler nods, settling in beside you, having traded his tuxedo for sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hand finds its way to yours as he lets out a contented sigh. "Sounds like the perfect way to spend the night."

And for the first time in a long while, it feels like things are exactly where they need to be.

[endless-ineffabilities]

be young, be dope, be proud

dynasty heir Aemond x heiress reader

a/n: randomly and carelessly drafted after a night out, so don't even ask me what this is. title obvi from Lana. also, I feel like the setting here is an acquired taste. so, enjoy? 💁🏼‍♀️🤍

themes/warnings: spoiled rich assholes, New York/modern references, language, clichés galore, Targs are like the Kennedys if that whole family was pure evil and Rep, SMUT, angst between brats who clearly want each other, also—you're kind of a hypocrite

main masterlist

The estate reeks with old money: marble columns, ancestral portraits, and a long dining table loaded with crystal and silver. Chandeliers try to warm the place, but it's all cold opulence. Outside, the gardens are cut and tamed to show that even nature has a price.

Your father always brings the family along to stately dinners up there in Westchester, with the usual crowd in attendance—the Targaryens, the Velaryons, the Lannisters—the whole lot.

Between them, they could probably purchase every building in Manhattan without creating a single dent in the bank.

Hell, maybe they already have. Generational wealth truly is the gift that keeps on giving.

You've tried to distance yourself from it. From people whose words drip poisoned honey and condescension. Being waited on like new order royalty.

But who are you to talk, when your father's lineage traces back to the fucking Mayflower? You and them are one and the same—filthy rich and borderline insane.

It is nearly impossible to maintain a steady sense of self, to have ample room for personal growth, when everything, every single thing, is handed to you on a silver platter. There is no tension there, no struggle, no need to exert any effort.

Failed your courses? Your father donates a building to the university. Aemond gets several DUIs? His great-uncle is a Supreme Court Justice. Aegon nearly burns his friend's house down while throwing a bacchanal-themed party? Let's just say that friend is grounded. For a week. Oh, the horror. Their family had many other estates, in many other places anyway.

When there are no real repercussions to your actions, you will feel like you can do just about whatever you want.

Burn the world down, for all you care. You can just buy a new, better one.

Granted, not everyone in your circle is an entitled egotist. There's Helaena, who strangely enough, does not possess a single self-important bone in her body, unlike her aforementioned brothers. Jace, who spends most of his time getting involved in political activism, for the side that his magnate grandfather Viserys steadfastly opposes.

You'd always sit beside either of them in these dinners, for the sake of your sanity. Unfortunately, Aemond and Aegon are never far. Especially Aemond—who occassionally stares you down as he sits across the table. Aegon, seated to his left, whistles at you. "Hey. Hey so... are you still slumming it with the art crowd?"

"I'm sorry?" You narrow your eyes at him. He didn't even say hello or mind if I cut in? as Jace was telling you about attending the DNC rally.

Aemond watches you again, so closely it raises goosebumps along your arms. He's been stealing glances at you ever since you arrived with your family. And you've been openly shooting glares at him when you sense it. Him and that steely one-eyed gaze of his always gets under your skin.

Aegon sneers, and you think how it's so in character of him. "You still live in Brooklyn? Cosplaying as a normie?"

"Fuck off, Aegon."

You've been living in Brooklyn for the past year, trying to finish up your Masters from Barnard. You would never hear the end of how this is the most redundant and useless thing, especially from people like Aegon. It does seem contrived, daddy's little heiress playing at being a scholar at Columbia, but at least you are doing something.

Besides, you have no desire to take over your family's empire. If anything, you want to branch out, maybe take on Jace's proposal on starting a charity foundation together.

"Aegon! Do you know how messed up that sounds?" Jace comes to your rescue, but you know it'll be for nought. Aegon's brain is too warped, too silver-spoonfed, to recognise his folly. You used to feel sympathy for the guy—this life is all he's ever known, and it isn't as if the adults around him ever set a good example, so can you blame him?

Used to. Now, he just annoys you. You grew up the same, but you are not like him, aren't you? So did Hel and Jace. So did Aemond. And Aemond, while still an asshole, is at least someone you can tolerate. He's vicious when it comes to his ambition, but he's genuinely smart.

He's cold and aloof, but he is also capable of tenderness.

You would never readily admit to anyone how you know this about him.

And he's staring you down, once again. You immediately know it's him when you feel someone nudge your shin under the table.

You eye him warily. What do you want?

He raises his eyebrows. Nothing. Just missed you.

At least that's what you're picking up from him. Why wouldn't he miss you? You're probably the best thing in his life right now. He should be so grateful you're still giving him the time of day, especially after everything he's done.

Aemond nods ever so subtly, the gesture meant for only you. You already know what he's getting at, but you don't feel like caving just yet.

It's another long moment of tuning in and out of your conversation with Jace, but Aemond's unspoken question lingers. When you deign to look at him again, he tilts his head to the side. Let's go.

He knows to leave first, and he stands and excuses himself from the table. Barely anyone gives him any mind, the adults debating passionately at the farther end.

You wait one whole minute, your heels tapping impatiently under the table. Then you follow suit.

"I need some air. Might have a smoke or something," you mumble to Jace. He wouldn't want to tag along, the scrunch of his face revealing how much he loathes the habit.

"Just the one," he tuts, raising a finger.

You roll your eyes fondly. "Okay, dad."

Aemond has just lit a cigarette when he hears you come in. The door to the private library lets out a tiny creak then shuts without a sound. He faces the window, his back to you. But he knows it's you. He can almost hear the derision in your exhale. A hint of your unmistakeable Guerlain scent is present in the room.

When you draw closer, he sees the ghost of your reflection on the glass, a mirage perched atop his shoulder. He thinks of the age-old visual of having an angel and a devil on either side. You would be the angel, and the devil... would probably be his own self.

The side he fights to keep buried. He knows you see it, and hate it, but you want him anyway. You let him have you anyway. And these stolen moments with you are the only times when he is truly free.

Without a word, he offers a cigarette to you, his hand moving with a smooth, practiced form that makes it feel like he's not just offering you a smoke but issuing a silent challenge. He lifts his lighter, an intricate, expensive thing engraved with his family crest, flicking it open with a soft metallic click, then holding the flame steady as you lean in.

He can't help but admire how beautiful you are as the glow illuminates your face.

"Do you ever get bored?" you sneer, folding your arms as you lean against a shelf. "Sitting there all night with that smug, 'yes, I agree with all of this' look while your family drones on about the 'sanctity of tradition.' Like a good little heir."

Aemond raises an eyebrow, barely looking up from his cigarette as he takes a drag. You sure have a habit of getting right down to business. "Funny," he replies smoothly. "For someone who 'hates' tradition, you play the part of Daddy's obedient little princess pretty well. I saw you batting your eyes at every gray-haired councilman at that table."

"Oh, please." You roll your eyes, heat flaring in your cheeks, though whether from anger or the way his gaze always seems to pin you in place, despite your best efforts, you can't say. "I'm not doing it because I like it. I don't sit there pretending I'm better than the rest of the world."

"You don't?" He cocks his head, his lips quirking into a wry, infuriating smirk. "Could've fooled me, princess. All I ever hear from you in these dinners are 'Oh, absolutely' and 'Oh, that's so interesting'—like you'd just die if they didn't think you cared."

"Wow, okay, says the guy who spent twenty minutes nodding along while they debated the tax breaks for HNWIs. Planning to cut yourself some more slack there, hotshot?" You take a quick, sharp puff, the smoke billowing out of your lips as you continue your tirade. "You're a damn statue, Aemond. Most of the time, you don't even say a word, and yet somehow you sit there looking like everyone should be grateful you graced them with your presence."

He takes a step closer, and his voice drops. This is something only you can do—you get to him, you hit him where it matters. Or, you're the only one he allows the privilege of doing so. "And you hate it, don't you? You hate that I don't care what they think. That I'm not actually here to impress anyone."

Your laugh comes out bitter. "Please. You don't care because you're so convinced they already think you're perfect. You don't have to impress anyone because you're Aemond Targaryen, right? The perfect heir to a glowing legacy."

"Better that than playing the poor, tortured rebel." He's so close you can count the facets of the sapphire in his socket, a dangerous gleam flashing behind them—another outlandish, excessive thing only a billionaire's son would think to do. "At least I'm not pretending I want to burn it all down while running around in the same circles as everyone else. Tell me, do you actually care about the policies Jacaerys painstakingly explains to you? Or is it all just for show?"

"You don't know me, Aemond."

"Oh, but I do. In fact, I think I'm the only one who knows the real you."

You clench your jaw, craning your neck up to look at him. How ironic that he literally has to look down on you too. "Unlike you, I actually feel something about all this. You sit there like you're above it all, and it's pathetic."

"Pathetic?" He lets out a low, humorless laugh. "You want to talk about pathetic? The only thing pathetic is you standing there acting like a revolutionary when you're just like the rest of us."

"At least I want to get out. At least I want to make a goddamn difference and—"

"Then do it," he says, his tone mocking, as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your face. "Get out. Run off, make your big escape. Show everyone how different and special you are, princess."

"Oh, right," you shoot back, trying to regain some of your moxie after his unexpected retort. "And leave you to taint my image after then?"

He scoffs, the gesture dismissive, almost cruel. "You wouldn't be here if you actually had the guts to go through with it."

Aemond may be a pretentious asshole, but he's right, and you know it. "You know what, Aemond? What if... I tell you that I like it. The power, the status, all of it. Is that what you want to hear?"

He smirks. "You'd be adrift without it. You'd be lost without all this to complain about." His gaze drops to your mouth, as if he could already guess exactly how a rendezvous like this is going to end.

How it always ends.

You feel your breath hitch, your pulse racing even as you grit your teeth against the draw of him.

"Don't look at me like that," you snap, trying to keep the upper hand. You should leave. You know this, know you should storm out and leave him here with that damn arrogant smirk on his face.

Call it a truce, and do it all over again next time.

"What's wrong? Afraid you'll do something you'll regret?"

The challenge in his tone has you seething, heat blazing up your neck. "You're insufferable, you know that?” You try to sound as furious as you feel, but your voice wavers, and the corner of his mouth tilts in a dark, smug smile.

"Then leave, princess." His eyes flash, daring you, mocking you, yet he doesn't move back. "Go on. Show me that strength you keep talking about."

The words are meant to push you away, to test how much you can take, but they do something else instead. They push you over the edge, sending you surging forward before you even know what you're doing, fisting the front of his pristine shirt and yanking him down to you.

Your mouth meets his, all anger and fire, biting at his lips as he smirks against you, welcoming the aggression. His hands find your waist, pawing at your gown, pushing you back until you stumble against the bookshelf.

You try to hold onto the anger, to use it to keep yourself in control, but the way he kisses you—rough, possessive, familiar, with a hunger that seems to match yours—makes it impossible. His hands slip to your hips, fingers digging into you with a desire that you both pretend doesn't exist anywhere but here, in the dark corners of your little meeting places.

"Stop," you gasp for breath, pulling away for just a second, trying to steady yourself, but he follows, his mouth trailing down your jaw to your neck, biting down just enough to make you groan.

His fingers slip beneath the slit of your dress, finding bare skin. "Then tell me you don't want this."

Your head tilts back involuntarily, the blissed hitches in your breath becoming frequent. You should tell him to stop, but the words never come, not with his fingers tracing up your thigh, the pressure of his lean body against yours, the electric shiver that races through you as his mouth tongue dances with your own.

You give in, letting your anger melt into something messier, something that's been building between you both for so long you don't know how to unravel it. Your hands move to his white-blonde hair, pulling him closer. His hand slips higher, while the other is braced against the bookshelf behind you.

There's nothing careful about it—gone are the dynasty heirs who are unfailingly curated and perfect and genteel in the public eye. It's all frantic, hands grabbing, mouths clashing, neither of you willing to let the other take control but both of you giving in to the heat. He yanks your dress up, lifting you and positioning himself between your legs, his breathing rough as he makes quick work of his belt. Then he lets his trousers and underwear drop halfway down his thighs, and his cock springs free, pressing on the draped material of your gown, which you hurriedly bunch to the side.

It's like a sick power play when he takes two fingers and plunges them past your soaked entrance, right to his knuckles. All without breaking eye contact.

But neither has the upper hand. You and Aemond are one and the same.

"Seems like you're ready for me, princess."

"Mhmm, aghh—" He hooks his fingers inside you, hitting that damned spot. "Just fuck me already."

And when he does, his cock practically propping you up against the bookshelf, it's fast, chaotic, your movements nothing short of needy and desperate, as if you're both trying to prove something to the other. You don't care about the priceless first-edition books that rattle precariously behind you, nor about the way his fingers dig into your flesh that guarantee bruises that will show tomorrow. Right now, you're past caring, past pretending that you actually ever cared about anyone but yourself.

And maybe... Aemond.

His groans come out unrestrained against your neck, his tongue flicking over the droplets of sweat, as if he can't bear you being any less than perfect.

Only he can taint you, only he can see you broken in and fucked out like this, your lipstick smeared to the side of your mouth. That same shade of rouge littering his cheek, his jaw, the collar of his shirt.

No words are exchanged, as if they've been used up in your twisted version of foreplay from earlier.

All he offers is, "Fuck, baby, I'm close," as his hips continue in its assault, his hands buried in the softness of your arse, keeping you in place.

"So am I," you counter.

He falls apart inside you, his cock sputtering while lodged deep in your clenched walls. The near-animalistic growl he lets out brings you to your climax, your forehead falling against his as your entire body is rendered limp in his arms.

When you finally pull away, flushed, your heart still racing, he looks at you with that same arrogant smirk, and you can't help but feel the distaste rising back up.

"Still think I don't know you?" he murmurs, smug satisfaction written all over his face.

You glare at him, pulling your dress back down, refusing to let him have the last word even as his expression uncharacteristically softens as he gazes at you, making you want to pull him close and kiss him again. Gentler, this time.

"This can't happen again," you force out your usual lie.

"That's what you said last time, princess."

Vhagar taglist: @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @joyismm @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @all-for-aemond @alokaaaaa @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @inesdiary96 @weirdblob21 @lonelyladyghost @tssf-imagines @nurtargaryen @paula-lkr @queenofshinigamis @breezyjin @empfm @amanda08319 @unrealwinchester @optimizche @seamaiden @spoffyos @subliiminals @believeinthefireflies95 @ex0tic-vgh @anukulee @mrsmunson-harrington @romyfe06

[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you should call into work if that ain’t too much to ask, i could pour you up a drink and we could burn somethin’.

03, CHAPTER THREE. COME THROUGH.

ju speaks. late chapter again lol and this election fucked me uuup but thank God for writing as a distraction. you can expect another part between now and monday mayyybe… i have some free time. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. same old + sexual innuendos (we’re very familiar with my edging game).

present day, may 2025.

paige: yo 6:23pm

wyd?

nailea text me back bro 6:29pm

nailea: hmmm

busy

paige: busy my ass

nailea disliked a message

nailea: i’ve been at work all day. some of us don’t get to just play basketball, madison 😓

paige: ohhh is that right?

i’ll have you know i work hard af ma

nailea: hard enough for a reward?

paige loved a message

paige: bring that ass over here nai

nailea: i’ve got emails to finish

paige: they’ll be there tomorrow

i’m here right now. waitin on you actually

nailea: maybe i have been thinking ab it 6:32pm

paige: mhm?

well you ain’t gotta think no more let’s just do

nailea laughed at a message

nailea: you’re really ridiculous

paige: come over and tell me that to my face

nailea: depends on what you got there

a girl needs incentives

read 6:35pm

paige: i got plenty

few drinks, maybe roll up too. thought that might get you

nailea: it’s a start

send the address, i’ll come through when i’m done

paige loved a message

i sink back into the couch, letting my head rest against the arm, my feet comfortably draped across paige’s lap. the last few days, i tried to keep myself busy, focus on work, ignore the way my phone would vibrate and my thoughts would jump straight to her. the same old game. she’d sent a few texts, nothing too serious, just little things to test the waters i guess, and when she called yesterday, talking about how much she missed me, i could already tell she was pulling me back in, trying to see if that thread between us would hold.

paige kept her word, though—i can give her that. i said i’d answer, and she made sure i’d have a reason to. she knew exactly what to say, and it’s a shame that she always does, really. it’s messed up, but it works. i can’t say i haven’t missed this, either. the way she can look at me and make me forget everything i swore i’d remember, every reason i should’ve walked away.

and now, here we are, the sun setting behind her window and casting everything, even her, in some warm, orange glow that only makes her look all the more attractive. it’s like the universe is playing along, trying to romanticize something i know i should be more careful with. there’s an old celtics game playing on the tv, but neither of us is really paying attention to it. i watch her more than the screen, notice the way her fingers brush absentmindedly over my leg, the way she insists that she should be the one to hold the joint to my lips.

paige leans back, and her hand has inched from my ankle to a casual spot on my bare thigh. we’re both too deep in drinks and hits to make sense of it, but i’m not sure i would’ve said anything even if i was sober. she’s wearing one of her uconn tees, which i guess you could call old now, the shirt hugging her arms a little tight. her hair’s falling over her shoulders, looking a little shriveled but still perfect, and every time she glances at me, she wears this smug little smirk.

“…feels like everything i knew it’d be. more work and pressure than it seems, but you know me,” paige says, her grin turning a little self-satisfied, like she’s relishing every second of her own success. we’ve been catching up—if that’s what you’d call it—for awhile now. i should probably leave soon, sober up and drive home. i’m not that far. but i don’t want to.

she drags her tongue slowly over her bottom lip, eyes hazily drifting back over to me. “what about you, huh?” she asks. “you got that insane move up. what’s that been like?”

i roll my eyes, tilting my head against the couch arm to look at her. “it’s not that insane.”

paige grins, shrugging and taking a sip of her lazy attempt at a cocktail. i’d offered to make them myself, honestly not trusting the blonde to not fuck it up, but she’d insisted, hostess duties or something.

“still sounds like a pretty big deal. you’re all professional and shit now,” she rambles, and i can’t help but chuckle at her choice of words.

i shake my head, hiking one of my legs up. “it’s not like i’m paige bueckers or anything,” i tease, a stupid, huge smile on my face. how is she able to bring out the worst and the best in me? “no one’s asking me to sign their shoes after a meeting.”

she laughs, eyes half-lidded and glassy, gaze intimidatingly lingering on me just a little too long. “bet you got your own version of that, though. people hangin’ on your every word, just tryna get a second of your time. don’t lie.”

i shrug, eyes shooting away from her. i don’t get how she does it. “i mean, it’s been good,” i admit. “long hours, but it’s nice to finally get involved the way i always wanted to, y’know?”

her hand shifts a little on my thigh, just enough to remind me it’s there, and i glance down. “coulda called that years ago,” she murmurs, barely louder than a whisper. then, it’s silent for a moment. just long enough for me to think of something else to ask her before she beats me to it. “you happy?”

i swallow, suddenly feeling a little hot in the face. “i am,” i reply after a pause, furrowing my eyebrows with a nod, almost like i’m trying to convince myself of it. “the dream, right?” i let out a breathy laugh, and paige smiles.

it’s silly to think that the both of us could recall that conversation like it was yesterday. but this wasn’t the dream. not the one we had when we were kids. just our own fucked up, adult version of it. and somehow, someway, we’re still here. somehow, someway, we still can’t let it go.

“and the people? they treat you right?” she sounds like she really cares, but is still trying not to press too hard.

“everyone’s good. most of them, anyway.” she can probably see through every word i say. pick up on the way i describe everything as good. i hesitate, looking back up at her. “never thought i’d be this close with a pro team after graduating, that’s for sure.”

“bro, ‘kea really don’t play ‘bout you,” paige laughs, but she’s serious. rickea’s one of the first people i got close with during my internship, contrary to belief. i was barely around the team then, too. “and maya’s been talking all kinds of good about you since cam’s party.”

i can feel my face flush, and i shift to sit up next to her, suddenly acutely aware of how close i am to paige, how tangled up i’ve let myself become. the mention of her name has clearly been a sore subject. i’m not sure why i feel so guilty, paige was mine first, but my mind flashes to her anyway, and then to paige, who’s probably hearing everything maya’s been saying about me, while i’m here, in the middle of all of it.

i don’t wanna ask what she’s been saying, and i surely don’t wanna press further into how deep paige and maya might be. ignorance is bliss, right? but shouldn’t it be my business? is paige still my business?

instead, i force a shrug. “i mean, it’s not like we’re on the same level,” i say, clearly selling myself a little short. maya’s been here longer, knows what she’s doing better than i do. credit never hurt.

paige doesn’t say anything. she inches just a little bit closer, and the sound of a sold out stadium of cheers from tatum’s three pointer is suddenly going in one ear and out the other. a small smirk tugs at her lips, and she tilts her head, eyes not sure what to focus on as she rubs up and down on my thigh, hand inching a little higher everytime. “i agree.”

i squint at her. “you do?” but it’s less of a question. my eyes flick to her lips, and i know she catches it because her smile widens, just a little.

“mhm,” she murmurs, her fingers twisting in, gripping my thigh until i’m squeezing my legs together. there’s a moment of silence, like she’s giving me a moment to breathe, to prepare, and she’s not done. “nobody’s fuckin’ with you, baby. believe that.”

i can feel my defenses slipping—not that they were ever really there anyway—as she presses closer, and i feel a warmth spreading through me, one that has nothing to do with the la heat. “what are we even doing, p?” i ask, and i don’t know where it came from. no part of me wanted to start an argument, or worse, hear the truth. i can’t look away.

she shifts, her expression softening as she glances down, then up again. she doesn’t know the answer either. “i dunno. what we always do.” she leans back a little, resting her head on the couch right near my chest, so close that her breath brushes against me with each exhale.

i tilt my head down, just enough to meet her blue hues, and the words come out before i even realize i’m saying them. “i’m supposed to be over this. over you.”

the second they’re out, i wish i could take them back. i didn’t wanna ruin the moment. the way her face changes, her jaw tightening and a flicker of something unreadable flashing in her eyes, tells me i’ve hit a nerve. a silence falls between us, an uncomfortable one if i’m honest, stretching longer than i mentally prepared myself for.

paige screws her eyes shut, letting out a low, frustrated breath as she sits up, running a hand over her face like she’s trying to gather herself. the loss of her touch makes me feel cold. “fuck, nai.”

i push myself up too, eyebrows are furrowed as i try to make sense of it. “what? i just asked a question.”

“you always gotta make shit so fuckin’ difficult,” she mutters, shaking her head like this whole thing is somehow my fault. like i’m the one complicating it.

i frown, glancing down, and she continues. “you’re just—God, nai, it’s like you can’t just let things be. you always gotta question it, question me.” she bites down on her lip. she’s actually upset, and the horrible part about it is that it’s so like her—so unmistakably paige—that somehow, i can’t even bring myself to be mad.

i want to laugh. “why does that piss you off?” i don’t want to say it, but the words slip out anyway. “you think you’ve given me any reason not to? especially now that you’re seeing maya?”

her head crooks to look at me, and her eyes narrow with it. “what the fuck does maya have to do with this?”

i can feel the heat in my face, the way everything inside me tightens, like i’ve been holding my breath for way too long. “what do you mean, what’s she got to do with it? you’re seeing her, paige. i’m not blind.”

her jaw clenches tighter than before, and she stands up, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. “we’re not—” she pauses, clearly trying to find her words, but i’m not giving her the time.

“that’s all i need to know,” i finish, forcing a tight-lipped grin. “you don’t have to lie. i’m quite sick of those from you, actually.” i chuckle, but it’s a hollow sound, one that doesn’t even make it past my throat. i reach for my shoes that i tossed to the side when i got here, pulling them onto my feet.

paige watches, hands on her hips, and i’m fine with her quiet. “i don’t want you to leave upset with me over somethin’ we coulda talked about,” she softens, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m already over it.

“i’m not upset with you,” i bluff, and i tie the laces of my sneakers a little tighter than necessary.

she glances down, tongue swarming her mouth, and i don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s thinking of some way to stop me. “nai—“ she starts.

“i’m not upset,” i repeat, and i hope it was more firm this time. i force myself to look her in the eyes, not a single thought behind them. neither of us is willing to be the first to back down, but i’m too exhausted to care anymore. “i just need to go,” i finish, standing up and rounding the couch.

paige’s face drops, hesitation etched across her entire face. “you can’t leave. you had too much. just… stay, aight? we’ll figure it ou—”

i grab my jacket, ignoring her weak attempts. somehow, this all feels like that night again, and i feel that familiar nausea creep up. “i’ll call a fucking uber,” i snap, throwing the door open. and before she can stop me, i’m gone, my pulse racing as i step out into the hall, leaving behind the sound of her voice.

i don’t think i’m very good at pretending i’m not upset.

[millyh23]

Just a Scratch

Leah Williamson x Reader

word count:

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It was supposed to be a peaceful day. The kind of day that Y/N and Leah loved, filled with quiet drives and lighthearted conversations. After a week of intense training, both were looking forward to a bit of downtime. Leah had suggested a short road trip to the countryside, and Y/N couldn’t argue—spending the afternoon together, winding through the rolling hills and quiet roads, sounded perfect.

Leah had parked her car in the apartment’s underground garage, as she usually did, a spot meticulously chosen to ensure her car was out of harm’s way. Y/N, however, wasn’t used to this kind of care with a vehicle. In the past, she had always treated cars like just another mode of transportation, never really focusing on keeping them pristine. Leah, on the other hand, was a different story—her car was her baby.

Y/N didn’t want to mess up the vibe. She wanted to impress Leah, to show her that she could be just as careful. But as she backed the car into the tight garage space, something went horribly wrong. Her attention had been elsewhere, distracted by the morning's conversation with her teammates. She hadn’t noticed the trash can that had been left in the corner.

The moment she heard the screeching sound—metal against metal—her heart plummeted. Y/N winced, quickly putting the car in park and getting out. Her eyes immediately went to the side of the car, where a long, deep scratch ran across the door.

Her stomach churned. She knew Leah loved this car. She had heard Leah talk about it with so much pride, how she’d worked hard for it, how she maintained it like a precious gem. And now… Y/N had ruined it. In that moment, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind—what if Leah was furious? What if she couldn’t forgive this? What if this was the thing that broke them?

Her palms were sweaty as she ran her hands through her hair in distress. She’s going to hate me. She’s going to break up with me. She’ll never look at me the same way again.

When Leah came back from running errands, she was in a cheerful mood, humming softly as she entered the garage. Seeing Y/N standing near the car, she smiled, but the expression quickly faded as she noticed the tense posture of her girlfriend.

“Hey, babe,” Leah said with a warm smile, walking over to Y/N. “Everything okay?”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling like her throat was closing up. She could already see the disappointment in Leah’s eyes, even though Leah hadn’t said anything yet. She could hear it in her own head, the sharp edge of anger Leah would surely direct her way.

Y/N took a shaky breath and spoke, her voice small. “Leah… I think I messed up.”

Leah’s smile faded into a look of concern. “What happened?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning Y/N’s face.

“I… I scratched your car,” Y/N muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… it’s pretty bad.”

Leah’s eyes flicked to the side of the car, inspecting the mark. Y/N immediately tensed up, bracing herself for the worst.

Leah didn’t say anything at first. Her brow furrowed slightly, but then, instead of the anger Y/N had feared, Leah took a deep breath and turned toward her, walking slowly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore, and her words rushed out like a dam bursting. “I’m so sorry. I know you love this car. I didn’t mean to. I know it’s your baby, and I just… I didn’t think, and now it’s ruined, and—”

“Y/N,” Leah interrupted softly, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “Stop.”

Y/N blinked, looking into Leah’s eyes, surprised by the calmness in her voice. Leah stepped closer, brushing a few strands of hair behind Y/N’s ear as she searched her eyes with a tenderness that took Y/N by surprise.

“Look at me, babe,” Leah said, her voice still soothing, yet firm. “I’m not mad. I’m not upset.”

“But it’s your car!” Y/N cried, still feeling the weight of guilt. “You love it, and now it’s… I scratched it, Leah. I’m such an idiot.”

Leah shook her head, a small, reassuring smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “It’s just a scratch, Y/N,” she said, her voice calm, almost amused by how worked up Y/N was. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m more worried about you.”

Y/N’s frown deepened, confused. “Worried about me?”

Leah nodded, taking a step closer, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist. “I can tell you’ve been stressed lately. You’ve had a lot on your mind, and I can see it. But you’re letting something small like this eat at you, and it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I thought… I thought maybe you’d break up with me over something so stupid.”

Leah’s expression softened even more. She gently pulled Y/N into her arms, holding her tightly against her chest. “Don’t be silly,” Leah whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “I could never break up with you over something like this. It’s just a car. We can fix it. But if you’re worried about anything, I want you to talk to me about it. Don’t bottle it up.”

Y/N melted into Leah’s embrace, feeling the comfort of her warmth, her steady presence. “I’m sorry, Leah. I didn’t mean to… I just freaked out.”

“Babe,” Leah murmured, brushing her fingers through Y/N’s hair, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m more concerned about your stress than I am about any scratch. We’ll fix it, together.”

Y/N looked up at her, her eyes slightly watery. “You’re really not mad?”

Leah smiled, leaning down to kiss Y/N softly on the lips, a gentle, lingering kiss. “Not at all. I love you, okay? And I love you more than anything, even if your parking skills need a little work,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N laughed quietly, wiping her eyes. “I love you, too. Thank you for being so… understanding. I don’t know why I thought you’d be so upset.”

“Because you’re a bit of a worrywart sometimes,” Leah grinned, her voice playful. “But that’s why you have me. To remind you that not everything is as big a deal as you make it out to be.”

Y/N smiled, finally feeling the weight lift off her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Leah squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go inside, relax, and forget about the scratch for a bit? We have a whole afternoon ahead of us.”

Y/N nodded, the tension finally gone from her body. As they walked back into their apartment, Y/N felt a rush of love for Leah, for how she always knew just what to say, just how to make everything feel okay.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The End.

[hunieday]

Momo - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Yuki: Thanks for your hard work

Yuki: Anyone here?

Okazaki Rinto: You’re early, Yuki-kun!? I’m here!

Yuki: Okarin, you’re online. Yuki here

Okazaki Rinto: Yeah, I know. There’s still time before the interview though...

Yuki: That’s true, but today’s an important interview day and I finished composing, so I thought I’d camp here early.

Okazaki Rinto: How wonderful. Momo-kun will be thrilled when he reads this!

Yuki: Yeah, who’s the star of the show today after all? Are you at the recording booth with him?

Okazaki Rinto: Actually, the recording ran longer than scheduled so Momo-kun should be back to the dressing room right around the interview time!

Yuki: Is that so. So it’s just the two of us for now.

Yuki: So what should we talk about until he’s back. Shall we have a competition to list what we find the cutest about Momo?

Okazaki Rinto: There’s no way I’m winning that. Let’s talk about what we like about you instead!

Yuki: Are you doing a bit

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun himself actually suggested it. He said "There’s a chance I’m gonna be late, you two can just talk about how super handsome Yuki is!"

Yuki: We thought the same thing.

Okazaki Rinto: I’ll start with my opinion! You used to say you weren’t good with people, but now you’re so approachable it’s amazing!

Yuki: Thanks. Do I have to say something too?

Yuki: I can write music

Okazaki Rinto: Next! I also think you’re an incredible actor. I feel so proud seeing you soar even beyond the idol world!

Yuki: Thank you. More new rivals keep popping up, so I can’t slack off anymore.

Yuki: Now’s my turn

Yuki: Now I’m out

Okazaki Rinto: That’s it!?

Yuki: That’s it

Momo: You barely scratched the surface!?!?!?

Yuki: Here comes Momo

Momo: Here comes Momo-chan!! Sorry for making you two wait 🥺🥺 I couldn’t stop smiling reading all the rabbichat notifications 🥰

Momo: But really, just three or four points don’t even compare in the sea of Yuki’s charm!?!?!?!? Like, his beauty mark is beyond handsome, the way he looks at me with such intensity makes me fall in love all over again. He’s so beautiful from the tip of his fingers to every strand of his hair?!?!?!?

Momo: And the way he calls me his “precious partner” is just too handsome…!!!

Yuki: You type really fast, Momo.

Momo: Lightning fast!!!!!

Yuki: I appreciate you saying all that, but today is all about you, Momo.

Momo: That’s trueee~

Momo: You’re gonna share,,,, what feelings you poured into producing my project right,,,,,,,,

Momo: aaaaaaaaaghhh can my heart even handle this ‼ Yuki, Okarin, please take it easy on me ‼

Yuki: I’ll be gentle.

Okazaki Rinto: Let’s get started! As requested, we’re aiming for a casual, relaxed vibe for this interview, as if you’re not even working. So we decided to do it over rabbichat!

Okazaki Rinto: First off, Momo-kun! Please tell us how you felt when you found out Yuki-kun’s gonna produce your song!

Momo: Hmm...he usually composes for Re:vale as a whole, but he did it just for me this time. To think that he created not just the song but also the lyrics, costumes, and the whole concept...I feel so lucky it’s almost too much to believe.

Momo: The person I’ve admired for so long brings me so much happiness now. I want to take that a hundred, a thousand times and deliver it back to all my fans.

Momo: Wait a sec is this real? I’m not dreaming, right?

Okazaki Rinto: Don’t pinch your cheeks so hard, Momo-kun!

Yuki: It’s real, Momo.

Momo: It is...

Momo: This is so special to me that it always felt like a dream! I mean, just singing with Yuki already makes me so happy, but I didn’t know there was even a possibility to ascend to another level of happiness.

Yuki: I’m just as grateful for the opportunity to focus on a project entirely for you, Momo.

Momo: Yukiiiiii~

Momo: Wait a sec, how come my darling is the most handsome guy in the world !?!? 😭😭😭

Yuki: I know. So what did you think when you heard the song?

Momo: It was so cool... I thought it’d be more cutesy

Momo: But it was completely different! And it has this super stylish dance number, I could picture us dancing together the moment I listened to the airy melody.

Momo: Even though we sing in a high pitch, the deep bass was so powerful, I love it soooooooo much…

Yuki: I’m happy

Yuki: I wanted to capture all your different sides

Okazaki Rinto: Interesting…! I’d love to hear more about your creative process!

Yuki: You could say it’s about Momo’s “switches”, in a way. A switch for when he’s singing, when he’s performing.

Yuki: A switch for when he’s pressing close to my side, thinking about lyrics to write. Working earnestly and wholeheartedly.

Yuki: They’re all different switches within Momo. It all shifts. The gap between them all is intriguing.

Momo: My “switches” huh... So that’s how you see me. 

Momo: You’re right though, I do change depending on the person or situation without even realizing. The gap between the melody and the high pitch reflect that.

Momo: And the electronic sounds are supposed to represent little switches, right? That’s just like you, it’s fascinating!!!!

Yuki: Thank you. It was challenging since I wasn’t allowed to compose the entire thing myself, but it was worth it.

Momo: And the lyrics moved me deeply. I could feel your message of wanting to face the future together, and to keep singing for an eternity and beyond.

Yuki: That’s right. This song is for you, who pulled me forward and shone your light upon me that day.

Momo: That’s because

Momo: Yuki’s music gave me the push I needed back then

Momo: So that’s why I

Yuki: Momo. You always say you’re thankful to me but

Yuki: "Beneath the countless stars, I can reach anywhere as long as I’m with you." Being with you lets me sing anywhere, Momo.

Yuki: Just like that day we sang together on the sandy beach of a deserted island, the place where you and I sing, the place where Re:vale is, will always be the best stage ever. (1)

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun’s crying.

Yuki: Don’t shed tears when I can’t be with you to wipe them.

Momo: Wh

Momo: Whoa stop stop stop stop hold up wasn’t that way too smooth?!?! That line was so hot my tears stopped on their own!?

Yuki: Hello, it’s me, the handsome Yuki.

Momo: Kyaaaa!! Please look my wayyy!! 🤩✨

Yuki: Yep. I’m looking straight at my phone.

Momo: lolololol thanks! I totally feel your eyes on me 🤩✨

Okazaki Rinto: Alright, I’m sorry but let’s get back on track. I’d love to hear about the concept behind your outfits and promo shoots!

Momo: I’m so excited to hear about it! I was hyped the moment I walked into the room for the photoshoot! It looked exactly like a gaming room 🎮

Yuki: The song doesn’t fit an outdoor setting. I felt like even indoors would still be too bright, so I went for a moody, neon-lit setup the moment I found out something like that existed.

Yuki: It was perfect for Momo since he loves gaming, but the gentle neon light reflecting in the dark felt especially very Momo-like to me

Momo: I’m so happy!!!! I really do love those kinds of lights toooo~~ I see how it is, hehe~~~~

Okazaki Rinto: Yuki-kun, your idea of what “feels Momo-like” is always very diverse.

Yuki: Is it? I think it’s normal

Momo: And don’t forget the outfits, I loved them so much >u< Yuki doesn’t usually wear clothes in that style so I snapped a ton of photos of him!

Yuki: I thought we might as well embrace the Momo vibe for this shoot too. We even took tons of pictures together.

Momo: Yup! We were dressed like Player 1 and Player 2! 🪄

Yuki: It's been fun trying a style I don’t normally wear

Momo: You looked amazing!! 😍 💚 Why don’t you start wearing clothes like that more often?!

Yuki: Then how about we try some different combinations next time? (2) 

Momo: Huh?! W-w-ww-w-ww-we don’t have to go that far!!!!!!!!!???

Yuki: Why not? Matching outfits always have a wide variety

Momo: Huh!!!!!!!!!! Okarin !!!!!!!! What do I do !!!!!!!! Work is one thing, but a private setting is totally different?!?!?!?!?!

Okazaki Rinto: I find it funny that you’re typing what you’re muttering in real life, LOL.

Yuki: How nice. I wanna be there too

Momo: You have work after this right? so Momo-chan will wait for you to finish!!

Yuki: Yeah. Thank you

Okazaki Rinto: The request was to make this a more relaxed conversation, but you might be a bit too relaxed right now, or maybe you’re just acting like you always are….

Yuki: Is that a problem? It’s fine, right, Momo?

Momo: Right, Yuki! 🫶

Okazaki Rinto: That’s right! It’s totally fine! And finally, please share a message for the fans!

Yuki: This new direction may surprise some fans, but from where I stand, Momo is strong, gentle, and full of warmth. Just like a sunrise that blends the dark and light, he’s a mix of many wonderful qualities.

Yuki: That’s why the song plays tricks with a variety of rhythms, melodies and singing tones. They reflect Momo’s ever-changing expressions. I hope you enjoy “Get in the Groove.”

Momo: I always spend every day thinking about how happy I am ever since Yuki and I became Re:vale. Sometimes so much so that I wish time could stop.

Momo: But you know, listening to “Get in the Groove” made me feel even happier! I know this project was born all thanks to our fans’ unwavering support. Thank you so much!!! I feel like the happiest person alive right now!

Momo: And that’s why I want everyone who supports us to feel as happy as I do, always and forever! I hope that you never get your feelings hurt! And if sadness ever comes your way, I hope our songs will be able to heal you!

Momo: Re:vale will always be a warm light, shining on everyone like the sun that rises each morning. Now and forever, with Yuki by my side!

Momo: That’s all I got!

Okazaki Rinto: Thank you both! This was Re:vale in full force!

Momo: Yup! I feel Yuki’s love overflowing more than usual 🥹❤

Yuki: Really? I’m not really good with words

Momo: Well no, you’ve gotten dangerously much better at that recently!!??!!!

Okazaki Rinto: It’s hard to believe you once had to practice saying stuff like this.

Yuki: Yeah, that sure did happen.

Yuki: Momo, promise me you’ll keep smiling by my side now and forever

Momo: Yeah. I promise!!

For those who are confused, the sandy beach of a deserted island refers to a specific plot point in part 5 of the main story.

I. am frankly not entirely sure how to interpret this. Because judging by Momo’s reaction I believe Yuki was Most Definitely Not insinuating an actual change of color combinations but. A Different Kind of “combinations”. 

[joocomics]

ಬ different kind of normal

pairing: idol!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut — mdni! wc: 1.7k

contains: situationship, reunion sex, sub!reader, slight hint of dumbification, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, reader is emotional and cries during sex, not a happy ending (?)

a/n: this has been sitting in the drafts since august and it’s finally seeing the light of day. cannot believe such angsty smut is happening on joocomics, tbh i don’t think i’ll be writing anything similar anytime soon phew it was tricky and i realised that i need my happy endings. but i wanted to try smth new, i really hope you enjoy it </3 sometimes you just need a kim taehyun to numb your emotions

You go down the familiar stairs and walk into the bar. It’s loud, lit by the usual dim yellow-ish lights, the scent of alcohol and skin is covering every corner, wrapping around your silhouette.

Your eyes observe the place to search for him and it doesn’t take long to find him - he’s sitting on your usual spot which is distanced from every other table; it feels intimate and secluded.

None of the people who visit this bar know who he is, nor do they know you, and sitting on this specific table every time you see each other only enhances the feeling you get in these moments - like you and him are the only people existing in this place and time.

“Taehyun,” you greet him at once.

You haven’t said his name out loud in so long. You’re not allowed to talk about him to anyone; not that you want to anyway, you want to keep him to yourself though it feels nice to be able to roll it off your tongue again. It feels freeing, especially in his presence.

Maybe he missed hearing his name in your voice, because his eyes smile at the sound before he even turns to face you. The letters ring nicely, like his name is something he can feel caressing his skin when you’re the one saying it.

“You’re here.” He automatically leans forward after you sit down next to him; the usual gravitational force that always pulls you together is another thing he was anticipating to experience again.

His one arm goes over your shoulders and the sudden warmth enveloping you makes your knees weak. The truth is, they were already weak from the steps you had to take to reach your table, but now they feel like they’re about to melt.

Being so close to him months later feels like it’s your first date all over again. You hate it and love it all at the same time.

“I just ordered your favorite,” he says and you can hear the slight note of pride in his smooth voice.

His hair is covered from a black cap which he eventually takes off before running a hand through his hair; it grabs your attention with a new color that you haven’t seen him with in person before.

You point out the obvious fact about how he still remembers your order as you take a minute to observe the attractive features that make up the face you learned to love.

“Of course I do,” he simply replies, leaning in for a kiss.

The first kiss after three and a half months. It feels so exciting and electrifying, just like the very first one you had a year ago, but at the same time it feels familiar too - like you’re reminiscing on a comforting memory you haven’t looked back on for a while.

His hand slides up your thigh, then travels up your hip only to sneak in discreetly beneath your shirt, sending you pleasant shockwaves. Soon enough he breaks the kiss though, careful not to bring any unnecessary attention on you.

“Next month I’m gonna have a week off.” Taehyun speaks up after a moment of silence between the two of you. After a sip of his beer, he continues: “I was thinking that you can come visit me if you want.”

Yes… Yes. You do. You want to scream it out loud. But the only thing you do is breathe in, staring inside the cup of your cocktail; trying to force yourself to speak before your mind turns blank.

“You don’t need to worry about money,” he adds as he shifts his gaze to you, hopeful and anticipating of your response. “It’s all on me, baby.”

There it is - the reminder you needed before giving any answers. His money, his fame. His life that’s so unfitting to yours. The pink balloon you found yourself in for a moment as he shared about his plan, tempting you to naively build dreams about your one week together, it pops, and brings you back to the harsh reality.

“Tae…” You shake head, “no matter what we do or tell each other we can’t be normal.”

Taehyun’s brows furrow at your choice of word.

Normal.

“This has to end at some point, I don’t think we should complicate things any further… as we’ve already said before.” You exhale deeply after blurting out the things you’ve been practicing on your way here. He didn’t hear the sound that escaped your lips because of the music mixed with the chatter, but if he did, he’d have known that saying all of this cost you an immense amount of energy.

You don’t glance at him even once, but Taehyun on the other hand can’t stop staring at you like he’s in some sort of a bad dream that’ll end soon if he’s patient enough.

“Right, right…” He nods, finally able to force his eyes somewhere else. He peers down at his hands on the table that begin to tap nervously at the wooden surface, sharing almost the same rhythm as his heartbeat. “You’re right, that’s the wisest thing to do.”

You know it is, but hearing him agree turns out to be more painful than you expect.

For the best, this has to end soon, you remind yourself. Maybe not tonight, but tomorrow.

“I missed you,” Taehyun rises your body temperature through raspy whispers and open mouthed kisses which he scatters onto your skin almost in a rush; as if you’re going to disappear from his hands if he dares to slow down. “Missed you so fuckin’ much...”

His soft lips trace a path from your neck down to your cleavage and soon enough he’s even lower, running his tongue against your stomach before kissing that area sensually too. The slight moisture slipping from the corners of his mouth in addition to the delicate sucks makes you shudder as he simultaneously tugs on your underwear.

“Missed this sweet pussy too,” he invites his fingers into your walls effortlessly. His gaze focuses upon your lips and how they open for a silent gasp as he glides through with ease because of your already collected arousal. “Did she miss me?”

While anticipating an answer, Taehyun swirls his tongue inside his mouth before letting a string of saliva fall right onto your clit; he smears it all over your folds, provoking your thighs to open even wider for him.

“Tae—“ You arch spine, emphasising your need for something more than this lingering rush that’s growing in a pace that’s not quite enough for how much you ache for his touch right now. “Please…”

“I think she did.” A lustful spark shimmers in his eyes as his hand maintains its delicate motions. The movements make you moan every time his fingertips reach your sensitive bundle of nerves before slipping back down again. “Say it.”

At once he meets your eyes as his frame eventually hovers over your naked flushed body.

Your hands relax on his broad shoulders as your focus fixates on his face. Hopefully there’s not as much pain into your eyes as there is in your heart in this moment. You don’t want him to know how much exactly you’re actually hurting.

“I missed you every day,” you whisper softly as your noses touch; your mouths search for each other, thirsty for the other’s taste even more now. When you feel his hand guiding his cock to your entrance your breathing catches, but you still manage to repeat it. “Of course, I missed you.”

The second he hears your words, Taehyun crashes his lips against your mouth. Because he cannot bare hearing this one more time or because he enjoys the sound of it too much - he’s not able to tell.

As he leads the kiss swiftly your legs wrap loosely around his hips and your warm walls immediately squeeze onto him as he quickens the pace, eager to make up for all the time you were away from each other.

“Fuck—“ He grunts at the growing pleasure that he reminisced about night after night before breathing out against your neck: “Finally… I swear to god nobody else can make me feel this way.”

His voice, husky and domineering despite his on going confessions, echoes in your fuzzy mind. Although you shouldn’t, you put in all the effort you can into memorising each word he says; you hold onto it tightly as the continuous thrusts gradually turn more rigid and sharp causing your nails to sink into his shoulder blades. However, as amazing the buzzing sweet wave inside you feels, you cannot suppress the sadness that’s about to overpower you first.

You swallow another failed attempt to fight back the bitter emotion, but you can feel it lingering everywhere - in your heart, inside your stomach, on your tongue once he slows down his hips to grip your face, and inside your throat that feels like it’s closing up.

“Why are you crying?”

Taehyun peers into your eyes that are sparkling at him with a bittersweet emotion which he hasn’t gotten used to seeing inside them. His gaze lowers to your puffy lips, trembling as they separate with hesitation.

“I… I don’t know what’s gotten to me, sorry,” your arms wrap tighter to pull him closer. His thumb caressing your wet cheek only makes it worse for you. “Please, k-keep going.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispers under his breath as he fulfills your wish by resuming his thrusts - more forcefully though to distract you from the sorrow, “I’ll make it go away now, okay? Focus on me, baby.”

You grasp his shoulders while the delight starts to numb your mind with each intense push of his cock. The hits against your sweet spot are fast and strong enough to weaken your memory right away.

“There you go,” Taehyun’s pants blend with your whimpers ringing beneath him as the tears on your skin begin to dry. “Such pretty eyes, look at me, love.”

Something about seeing you cry for the first time made his heart clench, and now his mind fogs up, leaving him with only one goal - to make you cum as many times as possible so you can’t think of anything for the rest of the night.

Right now, he’d erase every single thought from your brain if he knows he’s capable of doing so.

The moment he feels you’re tightening up Taehyun’s eyes open so he doesn’t miss out on one flinch of yours.

“Yeah, I’m here, baby,” he murmus, trying to keep moving forward while your peak lasts, causing you to quiver beneath his frame. “Let go, baby, I’m right here.”

Yes, he’s here, and tomorrow morning he’s still going to be here, but you’ll be gone, because this time if he tries to stop you like all the previous times, you’re not going to look back.

But for now, you and Taehyun are close as you’ve never been before.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[white--moon]

"Oh, you were bein' a smartass?" There's a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone while he rolls his eyes. But it's good to hear that Ichigo is still thinking of his sisters in this. Ever the protector. Has to make sure his sisters are alright, had to interrupt his own life to make sure Shiro gets through this treat.

He smirks slightly about that. "What would it be about? What it's like runnin' around the streets doin' everyone else's dirty work?" He scoffs, but it's good natured. "Whatever, I'm not that hard to figure out. How to understand a back alley drug dealer for dummies." He laughs, amusing himself.

Aiming a look at Ichigo, he arches a brow and disagrees. "I always need a bunch a' guys saying yes to me. Preferably hot ones." Not that he's sleeping with his staff. He tried that exactly twice. The first time was disastrously annoying and it was not a fluke.

It is a fair question, and he wants to argue that, but Ichigo keeps going to answer the question anyway. "I wasn't asking what you think, I was asking exactly what I asked." But he got Ichigo's option anyway and it doesn't surprise him. He notes that Ichigo didn't actually say yes or no to wanting him there, though. He's talking around the answer the same way Shiro did about the shirt. "I already plan on laying low for a while. As much as I can, at least. I think I'll stay in the penthouse for a while. It's a lot safer than the mansion but it'll seem less like hiding." And he can higher some muscle to keep around easy enough, like Ichigo's suggesting, he's stubborn about it. He has always been his own muscle. He's never needed security or guards, but this is getting bigger than he can handle on his own. It's getting bigger than he thinks he warrants, but he has made himself notoriously hard to get rid of.

He doesn't know how to feel about Ichigo trying to keep him and his maybe-boyfriend situation intact. It's good of him, it's the morally right thing to do. The only real problem with it Shiro has is that it's just further proof that he and Ichigo have no chance of being together again. "I'll figure things out with him, you don't need to worry about it." Or he wont. Maybe he'll sabotage his own building relationship and blame it on all the chaos of attempted assassination. His features even out. "All my habits?" This better not turn into a lecture. "He thinks I indulge a little too much sometimes, but otherwise he tolerates it. I doubt he expected anything less from a dealer. Most people don't know I was ever clean, only you. It was always weird for me not to use the product I was sellin'."

He slides into the driver seat and starts the car, then looks over at Ichigo and snorts. "You mean boring?" He shrugs. "I needed something with more cargo space that didn't stand out so much. It's easier to clean, too. Less work for my cleaner."

He's expecting Ichigo to turn this into a You're Not Going To Die conversation, but instead it circles into maybe Ichigo dying instead. It drops a stone into his guts. Maybe he shouldn't be allowing Ichigo to get himself involved. Maybe he should be trying harder to push Ichigo away, so he stays out of it, out of harm. On the other side of things; Ichigo's very profession puts him in danger and if Shiro's not selfishly taking up his time now he might not get to later if Ichigo gets himself killed. "You better not." He doesn't even know what he'd do, but it wouldn't be good.

He snorts at the mild offense Ichigo takes at his description of Ichigo's day job. "No, you're right, that is pretty cool. You gonna write a book, then? So in three hundred years some stranger you can't comprehend right now can perceive you? Maybe I need to write a book." He's not going to write a book. That's way too much sitting still for his brain to tolerate. His brows go up a little bit. "Yes I have been and I have no regrets and no intentions of stopping now."

The fact Ichigo wants to go shopping with him at all is a little surprising, but not because he seriously thinks Ichigo judges his fashion sense. Just more the spending time together thing. It's been startling easy to fall into a comfortable companionship again. And sure, they're side stepping and ignoring some really big things, but the company is still easy. "I knew that. You're just being a shit." He's not great at tolerating that.

His attention corners when he feels like Ichigo's looking at him. He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder. "I get it. This isn't the best place to be right now anyway." It's too hard to defend, too hard to properly monitor and barricade. He's not dumb. "Do you actually want me going on that job?" He made a bit of a fuss about it, but he doesn't need invited out of pity. He can entertain himself. He's just scared that if they part now, it'll be the last time they see each other. He shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't. Why do you seem like you're trying to push for that? I would'a said that's what I wanted if that's what I wanted. I have no trouble speakin' my mind."

For a second, while he watches Ichigo look over his car, he wonders what they'll do if it's rigged. Call in Ichigo's team, he supposes. But Ichigo slides out from under the SUV and gives him the go ahead. He turns to a lockbox on the wall and punches in a code, then pulls the keys off a hook and closes the box again. He uses the remove to unlock it as he walks toward the vehicle.

[revelboo]

I'm in love with the way you portray Jazz, and there just so little writing for him.

I was wondering if I could request another part for Jazz or IDW Starscream 🙏 your fics are giving me life. I check Tumblr every day hoping for more!

Over It Now Pt 10

IDW Jazz x Reader

• It’s such a little thing, nothing really, but when you start reaching out to him, it’s like a weight lifted from his shoulders. Asking him how his day was. How it really was, not letting him just smile and play it off. Encouraging him to be real even if it leaves him vulnerable and it means so much to him, even as he can’t let go of that mask just yet. There’s still the fear that if he does, you won’t like what’s underneath. Maybe if you see all the frustration and anger just under the surface, you’ll finally refuse to sit with him altogether. So he keeps the smile in place, keeps joking, but at night before you disappear inside to sleep, he sings for you in Cybertronian everything he wants to say, but is too afraid to. He bleeds out the poison night by night, needing the warmth of you against him so he doesn’t drown in it, because there’s so much.

• “You’re quiet today,” you say, studying the big Autobot. And that unusually somber expression is gone in a twist of a sly smile. Playing that part again, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it once did. After that night, you almost feel like you understand that his smile is sometimes all that’s holding him together, because when he sings? Even though you can’t understand a word of it, there’s anguish and hope and fury all twisted together in that haunting voice. It cuts you straight to the bone, hurts you, but you just curl against him and let him sing. Because as much as it hurts you, to keep all that inside must be slowly killing him.

• “Just thinking, doll,” he says, a shoulder lifting in a shrug. Not entirely a lie, though worrying might be a better word. They’d found a viable energon mine, but so had the Decepticons. The same mine. Bumblebee had reported seeing Ravage skulking about. It’s not like he hadn’t known the war would eventually boil over again, but both sides are so starved for energon, he’d thought this uneasy truce might last just a bit longer while they replenished their stores. And worst of all, that mine is far too close to your home, to the nearby city. He’s already started setting up a space for you in his quarters, knowing you’re going to hate him for it, but if fighting breaks out? He can’t leave you here. He can’t lose you. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

• Watching him drum a servo nervously against his thigh, you know he’s lying, but you make yourself let it go. He’d promised to not lie about the big stuff and while he lies as easily as you breathe, you’d believed his serious tone that night. The same night he’d first sang and then pulled you into his arms while you cried for him. Just thinking about makes you feel unsettled, like there’s something hanging right between you both, just out of reach. Something that if you try to take it, will shift everything between you and you don’t want to risk what you have. He’s frustrating and you can’t trust half of what he says, but he does make you laugh. He makes you happy.

• “I have to worry,” you say, eyes so serious as you lean on your crutches and look up at him. “Because you won’t.” Oh, kitten, you have no idea how he worries, but he smiles crookedly, reaching out to gently tap you on the nose with a servo. Playing the clueless, goof even as anxiety eats him alive and you swat at his servo without any real heat. Just like you have no idea how much you mean to him, how much he’ll sacrifice to protect that feeling of peace you bring him and to protect you.

Previous

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[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT helping a partner with trauma

Requested? Yes!

Genre: comfort

TW/CW: Implications of trauma

A/N: This will be less of a discussion about traumatic events themselves (if mentioned it’s brief only to give context), but rather the feelings and responses one might have afterwards. Trauma is varied and so is everyone's reactions to it, so I tried to include a variety of scenarios so there’s a little bit of something for everyone. 

A/N #2/Warning: Please use caution when reading if you might find the topic triggering. This is meant to be comforting, but if you find that it isn’t, come back later or skip altogether. 

Seungcheol

Money is an interesting topic between the two of you. At first, he thinks that you just like to keep a tight control over your finances, and he respects it immensely, applauding you for being money-smart. But he notices that you deny yourself a lot of things in an effort to penny pinch, and flat out refuse when he offers to ease your burden on little things like needing to replace something around your apartment or pay a bill that has an upcoming due date. In a vulnerable moment, you tell him the abbreviated version of the story - you depended on someone financially and then they left you with nothing, and you refuse to be stuck in that situation again. From then on he encourages your financial independence and for the most part respects your wishes for him to not spend a lot on you, even if it pains him sometimes. But you best believe the moment you accept it he’s already sliding you his card or heading to the store himself. Wants you to know that you can rely on him, but knows he has to earn that. 

Jeonghan 

You’re a flirt. It’s one of the things that he loves most about you. He's kissed you a few times since starting to date, but he notices how you pull back sooner rather than later, putting space between the two of you. You feel safer with words than you do with touch. He’s okay with that. If you ever try to explain yourself - doesn’t matter if it's a simple ‘I want to wait’, or a more detailed reason - he’ll shake his head. “You come to me if and when you're ready,” he’ll say simply without an ounce of teasing. I do believe that if and when you do approach him, he’ll want to have a not-so-sexy but still very needed conversation to make sure you’re both on the same page and he understands your boundaries. 

Joshua

On the very first date, you tell him you don't drink and don’t really like to be around alcohol. Noted, he thinks, and doesn't order another drink beyond the one he already has in front of him. He also doesn’t have a problem not keeping it at home. However, there’s a social element to drinking that is sometimes unavoidable. He sticks to non-alcoholic drinks with you when you have to go to these events and takes you home before anyone you’re with can be too far gone. You’ll tell him that he can have a drink if he wants and that he doesn't need your permission - but he's supposed to be the one that makes you feel safest, so he’ll shrug it off. He doesn’t miss it. 

Jun 

Absolutely respects your work ethic and even admires it. But sometimes he’s concerned by how you always go in early and stay late, take on way too many responsibilities, and never, ever take a sick day or vacation. When he asks you about it, you simply say that you can’t lose this job. He can sympathize because it would be devastating to not be able to do what he does for a living, but he recognizes that it’s not passion, but rather fear, that drives you to overwork yourself. Does little things like driving you to work so you show up on time rather than super early, or making plans right after work so you can’t stay late. He’ll also book a vacation to somewhere that you just can't refuse. Anything to encourage rest, really. 

Hoshi 

Bless his heart, but he's trying to be funny. He hears you come in and hides behind a door, jumping out at you when you enter the room. Does not expect for you to cry and panic, and cries and panics himself, profusely apologizing. Once you both are calm, he doesn't press for details, accepting your explanation that someone that used to be in your life used to do that sort of thing, but that it wasn't all fun and games. Will never, ever be doing that again, and if you're ever around his group members and they get a bright idea, expect that he'll put a stop to it before it even starts. 

Wonwoo

You’ve lost someone close to you. Whether it was a shock or not, whether you were there or not, doesn’t matter. He’s sympathetic to the trauma of losing someone and knows there isn’t a ton he can do to fix it. But he’ll do the little things. He’ll make sure you eat, even if it’s a little and even if he needs to feed you. He’ll make sure you shower, even if he has to get in and wash your hair for you. He’ll make sure you find a balance between sleep and activity, even if he has to gently drag you outside for some fresh air or carry you to bed himself. Also knows you can't really acknowledge any of it right now, but he’ll keep doing it anyway. 

Woozi

You guys don't fight, well, ever. You both are too laid back. But something big happens and you both have had bad days. Jihoon’s not proud when he loses his temper a bit, shouting. Immediately does not like how you fold into yourself and back away. You’ve confided in him before that your home life involved a lot of arguing growing up. He kind of feels like he’s looking at a kid version of you in the past and it makes him feel nauseous. He takes a deep breath, apologizes, and says that you both should cool down. Later that night, you two sit on the couch, talk it out, and promise to call a timeout next time one of you gets upset. Will absolutely never raise his voice at you again.

DK 

He checks your phone for something, not trying to be invasive, but because you had something he needed. He accidentally stumbles across quite a few reminders that you're way overdue for a check up at the doctor’s office. He apologizes that he was accidentally nosy, but asks if you’ve been able to schedule it yet. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, bordering on scared at the mention of it. You’ve told him before that you were sick as a child and spent a not-so-insignificant time in the hospital and have since then hated clinical settings. So, so understanding, but also so, so insistent that you should take care of yourself. He’ll take off work in a heartbeat to go with you and hold your hand if it will help. 

Mingyu 

You both are working on a grocery list and you ask him to add another case of bottled water. He looks at you quizzically because you already have an untouched case in the closet and the fridge is stocked. You pause, frowning. “But what if we run out?” You’ll say in a small, worried voice. He knows you’ve lived through a natural disaster or two before you moved here. You don't talk about it much, but he’s seen clips on TV before about what that can be like. He nods. “You’re right. I’ll get another one.” He gets two. That closet will never be empty if it makes you feel better. 

Minghao

You’re getting repeated phone calls from a random number. When you tell him this, at first, he nods, kind of shrugging it off. Spam calls happen all the time. (God only knows I get like ten a day from telemarketers.) Still, he watches your anxiety spike every time it happens and gently presses for a bit of an explanation. You tell him shortly that you’ve gotten harassing phone calls in the past and have had to change numbers a time or two because of it. From that point forward, if he's with you and your phone rings from an unknown number, he's holding his hand out expectantly. Doesn't matter if it’s a telemarketer or not. Will always answer the phone for you or simply get you a new number until you’re comfortable. 

Seungkwan

Listen, I think he's ready to fight any day. He’s kind of surprised when you ask if he wants to meet your parents and especially surprised at how anxious you are about it. He sees why immediately because they aren’t nice people. Tolerates very few negative or demeaning comments directed at you and certainly won't tolerate any displays of violence, so I expect this to be a short visit ending with him deciding it’s time to go. Also won’t accept any apology from you for how they behaved and after some consideration will encourage you to limit contact. 

Vernon

When you tell him early on that you don’t drive, he just shrugs. He’ll take the bus or walk with you any day. But one night, you guys have gone out. When you walk out to go home, you realize it’s raining and that you’ve missed the last bus. Vernon shrugs, saying he’ll just call an uber or taxi. You panic and he’s kind of surprised. Still, he puts his phone back up and waits for the rain to stop with you before walking home. You tell him you got into a car accident years ago and your injuries were minor, but you still don't like driving or riding in cars. You say it’s one of the reasons you live where you do, so you can just walk everywhere. Will always stick by you no matter what mode of transportation you choose. 

Chan 

You express that you don't like your new job and he’s surprised, mostly because you were so excited to start it. You tell him your coworkers are kind of cliquey, and you don't feel like you fit in. He understands, telling you that they don't have to be your friends as you can work with them. Still, you tell him you can handle a bit of rejection, but you're afraid that they might become mean or hostile, like the catty women in the last place you worked. He encourages you to focus on work for now and feel out the situation for a little bit longer. It’s not the end of the world if it doesn't work out because you still have him. Cheesy, I know, but it does make you feel better. 

[chewnotchoke]

only us who knows - leehan

synopsis: you havent seen your boyfriend, leehan, in a while so you decided to surprise him in his fansign and he tries his best not to be obvious infront of everyone else

got inspired from this leehan vid

warnings: secret relationship, fluff, idol!leehan x non-idol!reader

wc: 781

more under the cut!

video calls and late-night messages were never quite enough. nothing could ever be as great as having your boyfriend beside you; it’s been two months since you last saw each other. your heart has been torn between the joy of his success and the loneliness of his absence over the months apart, and the pain has been constant. despite all, your love remained the same.

but tonight, you are now standing in line for their fan sign in japan. you had to fly over for a few hours just to see him again, and leehan knows nothing about it. you’re standing there like everyone else, your hands sweaty, your heart racing, even though you've touched his hand a hundred times. seeing him welcome each fan with that bright smile you know so well makes it feel unreal, like a strange combination of tension and excitement. if feels weird to be here, publicly supporting him like everyone else, even though you've been keeping your relationship with him a secret.

with each step, the line moves closer, and your heart beats more loudly. in the hopes that he won't notice you until the last minute, you keep your head down. you can already imagine his reaction: his breathless laughter, his wide-eyed shock, and his usual way of reaching for your hand, as though he finds it hard to believe you're real.

taesan was seated first, followed by sungho, jaehyun, riwoo, leehan, and then woonhak. right before it was your turn to interact with jaehyun, leehan’s eyes found yours across the room, and his face broke into the most genuine, unguarded smile, the kind he usually saves just for you. you could tell that he could not contain his excitement anymore and he started finding it hard to focus on the fan in front of him. he tried to contain it, molding his features into a more controlled smile, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the barely-contained excitement. leehan can’t hide it from you, not even if he tried.

and then, it’s your turn.

leehan’s face breaks into a more radiant smile, and he practically bounces in his chair. you furrow your eyebrows worriedly and your eyes try to tell him not to be so obvious. he clears his throat and says in his usual fan sign tone, “thank you for coming to see me.” but, his voice has a warmth and tenderness meant for you, and his eyes tell a different story, hinting at all the words he can’t say here. the two of you softly chuckles. he squeezes your hand, his thumb grazing your fingers in a way that, after all this time away, feels both exhilarating and natural. “i couldn’t wait any longer.” you said.

he kept squeezing your hand gently, as if to say “i’ve missed you, too.”

but he breathes, almost like a whisper, “i missed you.” and you become wary of your surroundings, worried someone must have heard him because leehan was not bothered to be worrying about anyone hearing what he just said. because to be honest, he will scream how much he misses you in front of everyone else if he could. he then slides his other hand under the table, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze.

his eyes hold yours, and then his look fell into every feature you have on your face, glistening with that comforting warmth, and you know he’s struggling to hold back. “can’t i just stand there and hug you? i don’t think holding hands is enough.”

his eyes lingered on your lips.

one thing about leehan when he’s restrained from doing something he wants, he becomes insufferable. “careful, a lot of people are watching.” you whisper, trying to remind him of where you both are. he tries to regain his composure but can’t help but lean in a little closer than necessary. he laughs softly and shakes his head, his eyes dancing with mischief. "you make it hard for me to be professional."

right when the staff asks you it’s almost time to move, leehan’s touch which was once so subtle now felt like he didn’t want to let go. the warmth in his eyes is becoming unmistakable and the fans are starting to notice. before you’re ushered to move along, he scribbles something on one of the pages in the album. even as you walk away, you feel his gaze following you and then he mouths something only you could understand and feel.

“i love you.”

after you are done with the fan sign, you flip through the pages of the album and see his writing: let’s meet at our hotel later. it’s my turn to surprise you.