#I literally felt nothing when it was over!

[mimiii-3]

How old is the Batsib meant to be? Because I think that the most angst potential idea is that they are YOUNG. Like, around Damian’s age.

Most people, especially the Batfam, are really loving and caring towards children, but Batsib is ignored, belittled and disregarded. Meanwhile, Darling is an adult, someone who should literally be able to handle themselves but is instead coddled.

Most neglected reader fics have the family seeing the reader as younger than they are, but maybe in this au they think that the batsib is like 16-17 when they’re literally like 13.

Good idea!

…

Saboteur: Teenage Dirtbag

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: a tad bit angsty

…

What if batsib is younger than darling?

🦇- you can’t stand darling

🦇 - the way they parade around the house, basking in your family’s undying love

🦇 - you hate them all

🦇 - your Father’s weak resolve. He doesn’t stop darling’s relentless teasing. No, he sits back and watches to stay in their good graces

🦇 - then there’s Dick

🦇 - he reaches back to his circus roots and puts on a show for them. Always flipping off the walls and cracking jokes

🦇 - the overly wide smile he flashes darling looks stupid

🦇 - Tim just can’t get enough of darling

🦇 - he spends hours gathering more information about them. Memorizing their likes and dislikes so he can learn how to keep them happy

🦇 - the spitfire of the family, Damian, follows darling around the house and gazing at them with admiration

🦇 - even Alfred can’t help but wait on them hand and foot

🦇 - but what do you get?

🦇 - you get nothing. Pure indifference is what you get from your so-called family

🦇 - it’s never felt more apparent till now

…

The buses have stopped running. Of course, why wouldn’t they on the worst day ever. You trudge up the muddy slope that leads to the small wood behind the manor.

It was your first day of high school and it did not go as planned. The teachers and students were a bunch of judgy socialites who couldn’t mind their own business. You asked to go to a public school but your father didn’t listen. Typical.

Your shoe slips against the mud and you fall to your knees. A frustrated whine leaves your mouth as you clamber to your feet.

You had asked Alfred to pick you up around 6. You had an orientation for the after school program that would last at least a couple of hours. Unfortunately, you aren’t old enough to drive yourself so you planned to wait for Alfred.

The tip of a branch catches on the mesh side of your backpack. It tears the fabric easily and your water bottle tumbles down a short part of the slope. After retrieving your water bottle, you tiredly continue the journey.

Alfred never showed. Even after you waited an hour and a half. In hindsight, you should have just left the school. At least you wouldn’t be walking back in the dark. You knew that it was dangerous to take the open sidewalk back home so you decided to take the woodsy way instead.

You mentally punch yourself for taking the back way and take hold of sturdy-looking tree branch. With some effort, you pull yourself up the last part of the slope. Your shoulders sag in relief at the small distance between you and the manor.

Maybe Alfred was preoccupied? Yeah, that’s it. He was busy helping Bruce with a new bad guy in Gotham. Or maybe he had too much to drink and forgot about the plan.

You approach the back door leading to the dance hall. Before you can reach for the door, you notice light pouring out of the living room window.

You stay a couple hundred feet back so that whoever’s inside can’t see you. When you look into the room from afar you see them. The whole family, huddled up in the living room and watching a movie.

It must be scary. With the way that obnoxious abductee clings to them in fear. Dick, Tim, and Damian all lean toward Darling on the couch. Your father, sitting in the armchair, is looking over at them with so much love.

Disgusting. The way they look at darling like they can do no wrong. Then Alfred walks in the room carrying a tray of popcorn. You seethe at the sight of him, warm and dry.

So he forgot to pick you up for this. Is it that he forgot or did he just not care? You trudge back to the door and swing it open. You stomp your muddy shoes up the recently waxed stairs.

When you arrive at your room you slam the door shut and shake off your muddy clothes. After a quick shower, you plop down on the bed and pull out your diary. You begin to describe the horrible day you had and every hateful thought about your family imaginable.

Your pen scratches furiously at the paper. The hot tears cascading down your face wrinkle the expensive, leather-bound journal. You write and write till your hand aches just as much as your heart. You pull back to peer at your handiwork.

For about 8 pages your diary is covered in angry rants and violent doodles of you family. The anger starts to dissipate. Your diary keeps you in check. It allows you to express yourself and rant against your family.

You tuck the notebook under your mattress and climb under the covers. You pull your pig plushie close and breath out a sigh. You have to relax and forget about today. Let go of your family and everything else bothering you. It’s only Monday after all.

…

Extra notes: hey y’all, I’m back🫣

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats @wisefuncherryblossom @c4xcocoa

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hiiiiii, stumbled across your blog when trying to find COD fics to gush over and yours are SO FUCKIN GOOD. I love how you write the TF 141 guys!!

My personal fave is Simon and I thought the SFW ABC’s HC were so cute! I’m wondering if you’d be interested in writing a NSFW ABS’s for him as well!

Don’t rush it or feel pressured to do it tho. Thank you pookie ❤️

Oh my goodness! I remember the SFW Alphabet I did for Simon. That was forever ago, back when I first broke 1k followers. Compare that to now with over 6k and if feels like ancient history.

I am more than happy to do a NSFW Alphabet for Simon!

Word Count: 1.1k

NSFW Alphabet Template

A = Aftercare

Aftercare all depends on the relationship. If it’s a quick fuck or a casual thing, Ghost isn’t really all that interested in providing aftercare. He might allow a brief cuddle, or some stiff conversation, but he’s more interested in getting his dick wet. But if Ghost is in a steady, serious relationship, then aftercare is important to him. Not that he knows what he’s doing. Aftercare is not his jam, but if he cares about you, he will make sure you have it.

B = Body part

Ghost loves his hands. He loves that he can kill with them yet bring pleasure as well.

C = Cum

Ghost has a terrible breeding kink. Watching his cum ooze out of his partner makes him fucking feral. Not only does the sight of it turn him on, but he’ll verbalize how good his cum looks dripping out of you.

D = Dirty secret

During his final year of secondary school, Simon got into some serious trouble, and nearly ended up expelled. It wasn’t his fault though, and he felt scorned. So, to retaliate, he fucked the principal’s daughter (a classmate of Simon’s) on the man’s desk. Took her virginity while the principal was in a meeting and the two of them should have been in class.

E = Experience

Ghost is experienced with sex but not experienced with love. He can fuck you all goddamn day and turn your limbs to jelly. But the intimacy part is difficult for him.

F = Favorite position

Face down, ass up. Not him, of course, but his partner. For Ghost, it’s dominating and rough and fulfills every primal urge he has.

G = Goofy

More serious than goofy in the moment. Doesn’t mean that Ghost lacks a sense of humor. The guy can crack a joke, but if he is a bit silly in bed, the humor is dry and might go over your head. Ghost prefers to be completely invested in the moment, and his level of silliness isn’t something he’s thinking about. Now, if something happens during the act that’s actually funny, he will laugh and won’t shame himself or you for it.

H = Hair

Doesn’t care about hair but hygiene. Body hair doesn’t scare him nor does a decent bush. Didn’t shave your legs/armpit/bikini line/face/etc.? Ghost could give a shit. If you’re willing and consenting, and he’s willing and consenting, body hair doesn’t even factor into it.

I = Intimacy

Ghost is terrible at intimacy. Sorry y’all, but he is. Doesn’t matter if it’s a quick fuck or a committed relationship. This man will literally approach you and be like “you want to fuck?” and expect a very clear yes or no answer to the question. But hey, at least he’s clear when it comes to communication.

J = Jack off

Ghost is a rigorous masturbator. The every day kind of masturbator. While he prefers his privacy, nothing is sexier to him than when you’ve been a bad boy/girl/one and Ghost decides what you need is a bit of punishment. He’ll restrain you and make you watch as he jerks off, giving himself pleasure while giving you nothing. Not until you’re a begging, whimpering mess.

K = Kink

Breeding, primal, semi-public, CNC, breath play, BDSM

L = Location

Cramped, enclosed spaces. In the car, against a wall, on the sofa, in the shower. Basically, anywhere where Ghost can feel big. He enjoys having a sense of largeness about him, that he’s trapping you under him. That you cannot escape him when he’s fucking you.

M = Motivation

This man is constantly down to fuck. Sure, talking dirty is fun, but what he really wants is clear communication first. Tell him you want to fuck him, and tell him plainly, and then the two of you can do whatever. A clear, “fuck me, Simon” sets him OFF.

N = No

Simon leans heavy on consent. His hard “no” is no clear “yes.” If you cannot communicate that you clearly want him, he’s immediately turned off. That also includes how he sets up a CNC with you.

O = Oral

Gives and receives equally. He doesn’t necessarily prefer one over the other. But when he does receive, he is vocal. Ghost wants you to know that he appreciates you going down on him, but also how much he enjoys it. When it comes to giving, Ghost is sloppy…but in a good way.

P = Pace

Ghost mixes it up depending on position. If he’s looking to draw it out, he’s going to go slow just because he wants to watch you squirm and wiggle. But otherwise, he’s all rough edges, wants to hold you down and fuck you until you’re both senseless and dazed. Even in his roughness, he won’t hurt you, but he might leave some marks behind.

Q = Quickie

Loves a good quickie. Just say the word and Ghost will bend you over or put you on top of the nearest surface and go for it.

R = Risk

As long as Ghost has your enthusiastic consent, he’s down for anything. If there is anything new you want to try, he’s open to do it, but is also good about setting boundaries especially if this new thing might possibly harm you or himself. A risk taker, but understands that the risks might outweigh the benefits.

S = Stamina

This man has the stamina of a fucking horse. He can go for miles if he paces himself. Ghost isn’t the kind of guy to tap out after one round. Sure, he might need a few minutes to breathe, but he’ll be ready to go against shortly after.

T = Toys

While he doesn’t personally own a plethora of toys, Ghost isn’t afraid of using them. His favorite ones are the kinds that vibrate…especially if he can use them on you and have complete authority over the controls. Expect to be edged and have your orgasm denied constantly.

U = Unfair

Ghost isn’t a tease unless he thinks you’ve earned it as a punishment.

V = Volume

Ghost is vocal but he’s not loud about it. If he’s going to drop praises, he’s going to say it like he’s passing on a secret. You don’t find this man yelling his pleasure to the ceiling. He’s all soft grunts and groans. But you? You can be as vocal and loud as you need to be.

W = Wild card

Ghost is a visual creature. He enjoys simply watching you. Watching you get dressed and undressed. Watching you shower. Watching you get ready for bed or ready for the day. He loves looking at you wearing something sexy or nothing at all. He stares.

X = X-ray

Under those clothes, Ghost has a decent bush. Keeps it lightly trimmed but a bit wild. Absolutely a good mix of length and girth. Just above average size. He fits…snuggly.

Y = Yearning

When it comes to a committed relationship, Ghost yearns for you all the time. He is always ready, and always eager if you are. He thinks about you constantly.

Z = Zzz

If it’s just casual sex, Ghost is falling asleep immediately. The man is a rock. Lights out. But if this is a committed relationship, Ghost will stay awake long enough to get you the aftercare you deserve before promptly passing the fuck out. Sorry, but he snores.

main masterlist

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty CUTE thoughts - seungcheol •

the valentine’s day one with clumsy cheol

seungcheol has big plans for valentine’s day, but everything seems to be going wrong - he just wants to make it the best valentine’s day you’ve ever had, no matter what

seungcheol had plans for your valentine’s day evening - he planned the food, the jewelry, the flowers, literally everything PLANNED

but now he’s lying on his back in a hospital bed because he tripped in the bathroom - he wasn’t even showering - he just slipped and whacked his head on the tile and maybe got woozy when he saw some blood

it was so embarrassing, literally everything about tonight was supposed to be sexy

but when you come into the hospital room, worried and squishing his cheeks, asking if he’s ’okay’ and ‘what can you do’ - all he can think is how you’re so cute when you’re worried about him, cooing over him and petting him, calling him ‘baby’ and kissing his forehead - he certainly doesn’t hate it

plus, he’s usually the one who’s protective, but you’re kind of scary when the nurses can’t answer basic questions, like whether it’s a serious head injury or a mild concussion

he’s annoyed when the doctor says he needs to stay the night because he can literally imagine everything he planned sitting at home and going to waste, but at least they say you can stay the night too

you had planned for that, of course, and already brought some extra clothes for yourself and for him, plus a tablet full of downloaded shows and movies and the pillow he likes and an extra blanket

it’s funny to him how a few things from home and having you curled against him make a hospital room seem almost homey

he’s almost okay with things, but also he isn’t at all - tonight was important - he had been waiting to tell you something and this wasn’t the romantic evening he had planned

but when you lean up to kiss him, your warm lips pressing to his, he immediately feels all the warm, quivering feelings you always make him feel - he loves those feelings dearly

you lean back slowly, smoothing his hair and staring at him quietly for a few moments, he returns your gaze, adoring the gentle way you look at him, like he’s someone truly special to you

you lean down again, kissing his cheek softly, “you’re so sweet for planning everything,” you whisper

he flushes slightly, “you weren’t supposed to see that,” he whines

you just smile, “but i did and it was so perfect” —

he stops you, “i know, but then i fell and ruined everything”

you shake your head, “you didn’t ruin anything, cheol,” you assures him, “it’s just a special story we can tell everyone one day,” she smiles, “the day i realized i was completely in love with you,” you kiss him again, lingering for a moment before pulling back

his eyes were large, “i was supposed to confess today!” he whined again

you laugh softly, “so go ahead then - it’s not like we can’t realize it the same day”

he shakes his head, “no, i’ve known - i just wanted to tell you today so it’s romantic…special,” he pouted

you nod, “ah, so you wanted it to be memorable when you told me?” you giggle, “there’s nothing memorable about today, i guess”

he knew you were joking, but he still sulked, and you press closer, “cheol,” you stroke his cheek, “really, i mean it, i love you,” you whisper, “just you,” you press another kiss to his cheek

“maybe i’ll pick another romantic day,” he exaggerated his pouting, making you laugh softly

you nuzzle close, “at least i told you as soon as i knew how i felt”

he sighs, “i knew at christmas when you picked the matching necklaces and refused anything else they had”

she laughed, “that? can it be something else?”

“no - it’s just when i knew you were really the person i love,” he strokes your cheek

you smile, “i guess it’s okay then”

he rolls his eyes, “i love you too,” he finally confesses

you nuzzle closer, enjoying his warmth, “i love you more”

he swats your arm gently, “i’m injured, let me win,” he pouts

you grin, “of course you win, my perfect cheol”

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

a/n: i just wanted something cute for cheollie

♡ kat

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[pacofprunes]

NO TIP?

pairing — racer!jeno x reader w - noncon, misogyny, g - dark, smut | masterlist

summary — you had been working on a new paint job for a pretty well known racers car. when he comes in to pick it up and you tell him it won’t be done until tomorrow, he switches gears and starts being a total asshole. you tell him to just get out, but he makes sure to give you a tip before he goes.

a/n — hencheri got this stuck in my head after this and this specific post, so i had to make something about this

you’d been working on a paint job for a pretty well known racers car for a couple days now. you think the guys name was jeno? you worked at a car shop but you didn’t keep up with that type of stuff. you hadn’t actually met him, but you were the one who’s been doing all the paint work for him. a new shiny coat on his expensive car for his show. you’d kill to have a car like this, it was nice as fuck.

you heard the door open and you realized it was probably him. you forgot that you hadn’t called to let him know that it’d be another day as the car needed some more time to dry. you fully prepare yourself for him to be a little angry, but you could’ve never prepared yourself for what he’d do instead of throwing a few snarky remarks at you. he walks up to your counter and eyes you up and down with an almost confused look on his face before he looks back at his car and turns back around to face you.

“i’m here to pick that up. should be under the name jeno.”

you cough before biting the inside of your cheek preparing for an outburst of some sort.

“sorry sir, it should be fully dried by tomorrow. it’s still a bit tacky.”

you swear he gave you a dirty look, but whatever, it was better than him screaming at you. you couldn’t speed up how fast a car could dry. if you could, you would, it’d make your job a lot easier.

“are you the one working on my car?”

“uhm, yes?”

he scoffs before looking back over at his car once again. he mumbled a “no fucking way…” under his breath and you just rolled your eyes before turning around to reach something hanging on the wall behind the counter.

“so then you wouldn’t know if it’s done or not.”

you still for a second and laugh slightly under your breath before you turn back to face him. what the hell was he talking about?

“sir, i worked on it, therefore i know that it’s done…even if i hadn’t painted your car, which i did, it’s pretty obvious to anybody that your car isn’t done. you can go touch it if you want, it’s still sticky to the touch.”

you hadn’t meant for it to come out with such attitude, but he was literally doing the same thing to you. you knew he was a racer or some shit but that doesn’t mean you should just bow down to him.

“i hope you’re not expecting a tip.”

seriously? he probably makes thousands a month and he can’t spare you a fucking tip? look at that nice ass paint job you just did. a gorgeous bright red, and it’d look even better when it was completely dry and shiny. you just ignore his comment and move over to him at the register.

“cash or card?”

he just slams the cash on the table without making a sound and you go to count it before he opens his mouth for yet another snarky remark.

“you really think i didn’t give you enough? you think i don’t got enough money, huh?”

you have to hold back from giving him a dirty look which was insanely hard by the way, and you’re sure you gave him some sort of look anyways because he made sure to give you a nasty look right after you had felt your eyebrows scrunch together at him.

“i have to count, sir. it’s got nothing to do with my personal beliefs. despite you not tipping..”

he slams his hand on the counter and you knew he had heard you.

“so, what? you’re just some greedy bitch who’s tryna empty out my pockets?”

you would have just told him to take the car and go but it’d literally be done by tomorrow and he already gave you the cash and you knew with his status that it’d be made into some huge deal. you put the money into the register and step back before placing your hands against your hips.

“excuse me? you can leave. you can pick up your car tomorrow since you already paid. unless you’ve got anymore questions, you can see yourself out.”

he looks down at the counter for a second before you see his fingers start to grip against the glass.

“i’ve got a few questions actually, ma’am.”

he takes a step towards the entrance of the counter.

“how long you been working here?”

he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he take another step towards the opening to enter behind the counter.

“you’re a woman, what makes you think you have any business working here?”

he’s standing right at the opening to the counter now and you open your mouth but a small sound only gets the chance to slip out before he cuts you off again.

“you want a tip so bad, right?”

he’s takes his last step and is now fully behind the counter, standing right in front of you and staring you down intensely. you take a small step back and he quickly grabs your shoulder, his finger nails digging deeply into it.

“so why don’t i fucking give you one.”

he immediately turns you over by your shoulder and presses you against his back, wrapping a hand around your waist so you couldn’t get away from him. the place was empty, you were meant to close up tonight. you didn’t know what the hell he wanted. he literally just paid you the exact cash you needed, no way it was a robbery. you curse at him to let you go but he pulls you from behind the counter and over towards his car. he feels you up on the way there, forcing a hand into your pants and attempting to finger you, and that’s when you realized what he wanted and what was going to happen.

finally, you let out at least five screams before he slams a hand over your mouth. you were standing in front of the hood of his car now and you could feel his boner poking you right in the ass.

he continued to shove his fingers into you mercilessly and pulling out every few seconds to add a weak attempt at providing your clit attention. you stomp on his foot and he lets out a pained sound and a “you fucking bitch” before he pulls his hand out of your pants and shoves you onto the still tacky sticky hood of his car. you put your hands onto the side of the hood to push yourself up but he quickly presses his hand against your back to hold you down. you try to swing your arms back at him, hoping to hit something, but it does nothing, obviously. his other hand is still tight on your face and it’s threatening to slide up and cover your nose.

“what’s up with you uptight bitches, huh? thought you wanted a tip? i’d say fucking with a racer is a pretty big tip, right?”

he pushes your pants down along with your panties before you hear a belt from behind you and your pathetic squirms below him get more intense and reckless.

“you wanna be a bitch, right? i’ll treat you like a bitch then.”

and right then, he pushes his dick right in you. no easing, no stopping, he just goes right into you and immediately starts thrusting. you start to whine underneath him and you move your feet up from the floor hoping to hit him, but he just steals your idea and kicks you right in the back of your calf, hard. you immediately scream into his palm and feel like you’re sinking deeper into his car. you just lie there for a little, breathing heavy and you move your eyes up slowly and through his windshield you’re able get a slight look at the situation. you felt disgusting. you could see the sweat sticking to his face, his bangs bouncing with every relentless movement. and from how much you were sticking to the car, your body barely even moved from all the thrusts he was making. all you heard was the slight creakiness and bouncing of the car and his grunts and shitty moans. you hated him.

“you feel how big this tip is slut? wanna complain like a stripper not gettin’ enough money.”

he leans down into your ear and his thrusts suddenly quicken like a machine.

“maybe this’ll teach you not to take men’s jobs. what’s a woman like you even doing in an area like this?”

you whine against the palm of his hand and you just shake your head no. not at anything he said in particular, but just the whole situation. you try to mumble a few ‘stops’ underneath his palm, and you know that he hears them. you know he understands you don’t want this, but why the fuck would he care? was this really all because you were working at a job predominantly done by men…? seriously? when you feel yourself squeeze around him and hear him laugh, you feel absolutely disgusted with yourself and your body. your pussy was getting wetter and wetter, finally making noises everytime that his balls slapped against it. you get frustrated and you start sobbing angrily into his palm, stomping like a child against the floor. you would kick him again, but you knew the next time he kicked you right back, it’d be ten times worse than the first time. and so what if you managed to kick him off of you anyway? you wouldn’t get that far. he was ten times bigger than you and with your pants halfway down your legs, you’d trip over your own feet before you could even get one step in. the only thing you could do was wait until he was finished.

when you feel his fingernails squeeze into your back and feel something leak down your legs, you know exactly what it is and just pray that that’s enough and that this is all over. and when you hear the fabric of his pants brush against his legs and his belt clasp, your hopes have been fulfilled. or at least that’s what you thought. he didn’t release the palm that was on your mouth, only having moved his hand off of your back, now giving you more room to squirm. but he doesn’t let you get up. he moves the palm from your mouth to your head, pressing your cheek into the car and you can only yell so much in a position like that.

“get off of me! take your car and just go!”

you hear him scoff from behind you and you feel him circle his fingers on your clit before sliding them alllll the way down your slit until finally pushing them into your embarrassingly wet hole.

“you’d think after all that you’d get rid of that bitchy fukin’ attitude.”

he continues to finger you but once you feel him push a third finger in, you have to stop a moan from slipping. you try to move your hands up the car to create as much distance as you could between you and him. it became painful to do so as the paint had started to dry to your hands, but you continued anyways. but it wasn’t doing anything though, his fingers only follow you.

“we’re gonna stay here until you stop your bitching.”

and that’s when he slips a fourth finger in and you can feel yourself clench, and this time your body doesn’t let go, holding onto his fingers for dear life and he lets out a sick laugh. the moment you can tell that you’re about to cum all over his fingers, you try to push yourself up the car even more, becoming desperate, but it only encourages him to play with your clit as well now and he pushes your face harder against the car.

“i’m sorry—i’m sorry! okay? you can have the car for free—please!”

he scoffs and ignores your whining and continues to thrust his fingers into you. you became desperate, okay? what more could you do besides beg him to stop? he didn’t like your attitude? okay then, maybe your begging for mercy would detour him! but that’s not what he wanted. he wanted to strip you of any confidence and pride that you once had. he wanted to absolutely humiliate you. and when he saw you finish all over his fingers, he knew that had had. he immediately pulls his fingers out and he slaps your ass while laughing before moving back and you can hear him fumbling with something. you quickly push yourself up off of his car and it feels as if the skin is about to be ripped off of your face, but luckily, none comes off. when you finally free your face from the car hood, you’re met with a sight that would forever be engraved in your mind. your face print was totally embedded into his car. your hand prints littered it as well, and although your work top prevented a perfect outline, your chest was imprinted on there as well.

you quickly pull up your pants and go to move back but he quickly walks up beside you and throws an arm into your shoulder before looking down at you.

“it looks good doesn’t it?”

you just stare at it in disgust and he throws his shoulder off of you before taking a step back, grabbing his wallet and reaching in it before throwing a couple sorry ass twenty dollar bills at you like you were some stripper and a white strip of paper that lands on the car. you pick it up and realize it was a ticket to one of his shitty racing shows.

“you’re lucky i’m giving you one for free, front row too. better see you there, i want you to see my awesome new car design in action.”

he points to the prints on his car and you snap your head up to him, face wet with tears and painted with concern. you didn’t want to keep that shit on his car. so what if people didn’t know that the face print was yours? that’s humiliating as fuck! he squats down to your level as if you were a child and throws a hand onto your arm, squeezing it threateningly.

“if those prints aren’t still there by the time i pick it up tomorrow, i can assure you that you’ll see me again.”

he straightens his knees again, menacingly looking down at you before slowly removing his hand from your arm, dragging out every second before his hand finally drops and he simply just walks away. you just stand there stunned, money surrounding you and his car staring you dead in your face.

you turn to your side to get one last look at it. what were you supposed to tell your boss about what the hell that was? you can see yourself once again in the reflection of the windshield, your face has red paint all on its side and your hair is sticking up in a million different places, bits of paint stuck in it as well. a million showers would never be able to wash away what happened tonight, and a crummy hundred dollar tip didn’t make up for it either.

you stare the money dead in the face and let your tears drip onto the numbers printed on the paper. you’d be thankful if you never got a tip from somebody ever again.

[baambied]

As your head rested on her thighs, her body tensed up. She looked down at you, forgetting all about her game. Her opponent was kicking her characters ass, but that was something she didn’t give a single fuck about in that moment. The sight of your pretty face laying on her lap, so close to her crotch, made her heart pound against her ribs violently. Her thoughts raced uncontrollably, imagining very wrong things. But she couldn’t help. Her cunt was so close to the place she wanted it to be. Against your fucking mouth.

Yeah… she was definitely a motherfucking horny loser.

Loser!Ellie x Femme Best Friend reader? very soft at the beginning and an horny desperate mess at the end?

𝑪𝑼𝑴 𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑶𝑵 𝑴𝑬. . .- 𝑰 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵 𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬!!

content warning - nsfw , cursing , inexpiernced!ellie , biting kink , cunniligus(ellie!receiving) , clit play , ellie is an absolute loser with no experience , perv!ellie , masterbation mentioned (ellie) ellie cums in her boxers , reader is kinda blunt.

pairings - bsf!loser!ellie ✗ fem!reader

"holy shit! why am i eating literal ass right now in this game!... "

you scoff at ellie's words, looking down at the book in your hands once again. At this moment, you laid flat on your stomach on ellie's blue carpet in her room while flipping through a random dinosaur book you saw on her desk while ellie - your best friend sat comfortably in her gaming chair near you.

it was safe to say that you were bored out of your damn mind , your friend who would rather play on her PC than entertain you in some fun way was annoying the fuck out of you - especially her random loud yelling when she lost a round in whatever game she was playing. . .

you rolled over on your back , eyes staring at the ceiling with a frown creased in your eyebrows. "ellie. ." you spoke out softly as your eyes flickered to her form.

due to her ginormous gaming headphones, she couldn't hear you, her face shown nothing but determination as her fingers roughly hit her keyboard - right leg bouncing anxiously. . . you sigh , you wanted her attention on you. . you don't understand why she'd bother to invite you over if she was just going to be on her computer the entire time. you slowly sat up, sighing at the ache in your back, a small pout on your face as you still eyed ellie.

you slowly roll over, now on your hands and knees, crawling towards ellie quietly and slowly without her realizing. . your cheek was then meant with the feeling of her cloth sweatpants as you layed your head on her leg. . . unknowingly to you, ellie's body tensed up in an instant at the feeling of you on her thigh.

"u-uh. . . hey, whatcha doing? there?.." the now flustered girl spoke out, her green eyes too nervous to look down as she felt her freckled cheeks warming up.

"I'm bored. ."

"o-oh - uhh, i thought you were . . um reading?"

"ellie i don't give a shut about fossils and dinosaurs - no offense. ."

"oh. ." ellie let's out a soft sigh when her character in the game accepted death once more , letting out a shaky sigh her hands pulled away from the keyboard . . genuinely ellie felt kind of , stupid. . she was now a whole bundle of nerves just by you laying your head in her thigh - she swore to herself that this little crush she developed on her bestfriend would go away thinking it was just a small phase in her life - i mean everyone liked you at one point. .since you were so pretty and so fucking sweet. . genuinely a great personality.

but that was when she was 11. . and now she's 19 and still can't stop feeling her heart pound rapidly against her chest whenever you were near her - which was almost all the time.

she remembers talking to Dina about it , and instead of receiving good advice, she received a laugh in the face telling ellie to just go for it and ask you out. . yeah as if it was that easy - ellie knew you liked girls . . both of you found that out in high school together, but ellie knew for a fact she wasn't your type.

i mean, your ex was literally one of the most famous football jocks in the college you both currently go to. . abby fucking anderson - nothing was particularly wrong with abby it's just the simple fact the woman always had her hands on you like some sort of horn dog in heat. . . and you let her , it made ellie's blood nearly boil over just thinking about it.

and she couldn't deny the overwhelmingly happy feeling she felt when you came to ellie once telling her you broke up with abby - ellie had good dreams that night.

but that was just one side of ellie's crush , the other was. . . different - now ellie isn't a pervert but in her defense, it's just hormones. .on one of those nights when you, ellie and other mutual friends would go out to parties around campus , ellie didn't know if it was the alcohol in her system or whatever type of pill dina gave to her but seeing you in the middle of the dance floor , rubbing up on a random girl making your short dress ride up showing more of your thigh. . shit.

ellie didn't know why , or how but when she went back home that night her hand somehow. . . made its way straight into her pants as soon as she hit her bed - letting out all of those hot desires and feelings on her swollen , wet clit . . fingers rubbing in tight circles as her other hand covered her mouth.

she wasn't exactly proud of masterbating to you, but she knew she'd never actually get a chance to do this with you in real life, so there's no harm in using her imagination, right?

"and i- ellie? elliee!"

ellie flinched at the sound of your face, calling out to her, frowning slightly she finally looked down at you and immediately her breath got caught in her throat as she found your eyes peering up at her curiously. . . you looked so damn pretty. .

"did you hear me els?"

"wha - what did - huh?" ellie's words came out fumbled under her breath causing you the peer at her with a confused grin.

"jeez okay i know you don't like her, but i want to know what i should do" your sentence made ellie frown as she was suddenly snapped out of her lesbian yearning gaze "huh?"

"psh i knew you weren't listening - abby! should I text abby back?"

abby?

who's the hell is abby- ohhhh no ellie remembers. . wait, why was abby texting you?

"abby? why is she texting you?" You shrugged at ellie's words "i dunno , says she misses me or something like that. ." ellie frowned as a small pout formed on her pink lips at the thought of you and abby getting back together.

"you. . broke up with her for a reason , you shouldn't reply. .but do whatever you want. . i gues.." ellie spoke out softly and almost unsure as she now looked back up to her computer starting the game once again - needing a distraction as she was avoiding your gaze now , silence over took the room for awhile.

"yeah but i low-key need a good fuck. ."

ellie's hands froze on her keyboard, the sound of her characters' fatality being heard around the room - her eyes wide as her warm cheeks are a shade of dark red "w-what"

"I've been so stressed about exams and shit , it wouldn't be bad to just y'know" you say in a almost obvious tone to ellie , thinking she understood what you meant but by her rigid motion and shocked expression it was clear she somewhat didn't "ellie? what dont tell me youve never fucked someone to let out stress or something..?"

suddenly ellie stood up from her chair arubtly causing your head to nearly hit the desk beside you. "hey! a warning would be nice el!"

"it's hot in here - yeah I'm super hot!" ellie suddenly yelled out as she walked over to her bedroom windows and unlocking it to open the window up - the cold autumn breeze immediately hitting her heated body . . . you sigh and stand up making your way to her bed, plopping down on her comic book themed bed sheets you laid on your back and peered at the girl who stood near the windows still.

"els come here. ." you called out softly, ellie - tense but obeying your words walked over to her bed and slowly sat near the edge . . honestly if someone saw the scene they'd think you were the owner of the bedroom instead of the timid girl who sat on the edge on her own bed nearly falling off.

"ell- why are you ever there? come here weirdo. ."

ellie gulped thickly and moved her body higher up, her back now leaning against her headboard as her eyes searched around for something, anything to make this any less awkward for herself, her hands grabbed up the dinosaur book you once held - flipping it open to a random page.

"what are you doing?"

"reading this - unlike you I'm very interested in fossils and dinosaurs. ."

"Trust me, ellie, I'm aware of that it's just - why are you reading it upside down instead?"

ellie cringes in embarrassment as she hastily flipped the book to the correct side , thinking about how much she's an idiot she suddenly felt something in her lap, lifting the book to get a good view. . there your head laid in her lap once more.

why the fuck do you keep laying there? ellie thinks with red cheeks.

"you seem pent up els. ."

ellie's eyes widened at your choice of words "pent up? what do you??"

"have you really never slept with anyone?" your head that was laying in her lap was once looking across the room and was now looking at her face, reading her expressions like a book. . . your right hand grabbed the book out of ellie's hand and threw it somewhere on the bed.

"anytime i touch you, your body goes all stiff. . as if you've never been touched by another girl before . ."

fuck! was ellie being that damn obvious, and ellie thought about your words for a moment, and if she was being honest, she was very pent up , especially at this very moment. . . the sight of her best friend whom she's known for years having her pretty face laying in her lap . . . so fucking close to her crotch area. . this alone made her heart rapidly pound within her chest, her breathing becoming shaky as sinful thoughts raced through her mind , she couldn't help it . . your head was so close to her cunt - that was pulsing uncontrollably by the filthy thoughts in her mind and you asking about her non-existent sex life . . - shit. . she wanted nothing more for your plump lips to be around her swollen clit.

and at this very moment ellie knew that she was nothing but a mother fucking loser horny for her bestfriends mouth.

"ellie?. ."

"fuck. ." the sound of your soft voice calling out to her in confusion - she couldn't help but imagine you moaning out her name in the same tone.

your body perched up, leaning towards ellie with both your hands planted on the bed on both her sides , your face leaning close to her's. . you've known ellie for years, meaning you could read her like an open book - you weren't stupid you were able to see right through ellie and how she acted around you . . to be honest you were just never 100% sure - but the sight of her freckled cheeks turning red , her green eyes looking anywhere but you. . oh you were sure.

"do you like me ellie?"

"w-what. ."

"am i the reason your cheeks are flaming red?"

ellie breath caught her throat , she couldn't speak . . what the fuck was happening right now ellie closed her eyes tightly before opening them , she had to make sure she wasn't dreaming . . her lips shuddering slightly as her whole body felt like it was on fire , ready to explode. . a soft whine escaping her lips when you leaned closer. .she could smell your pretty chocolate-vanilla perfume entering her nose.

"what do you want me to do to you?" Your whispers made her thighs clench as her eyes closed. ."tell me. ."

"i don't- i don't know. ."

"yes you do, cmon i know you want something. ." one of your hands that was rested on the bed then moved to ellie's thigh , you smirked at the feeling of her slightly flinching by your touch.

"please. .please. ."

"Please, what?"

"touch me. ." ellie has never felt more nervous and shy in her life. . she's never had any experience with women at all , this was a first for her . . her thighs clenching hardly against each other as both her hands fisted her sheets, not knowing where to put them. .

ellie could feel your hand now on her cheek, your thumb on her pink bottom lip , your head leaning closer to her, causing ellie to close her eyes once more thinking she'd finally be able to feel your pretty lips against her's - instead a soft moan escaped her throat when she felt your lips on her neck, leaning her head back so you can have more access. . hissing when she feels her flesh being pulled by your teeth.

ellie could feel her boxers absolutely soaked with her wetness from her cunt, clenching around around nothing just from the feeling of your lips on her skin. . . skimming around her neck for her most sensitive spot.

"w-wait please! i -- ah! fuck!" ellie could feel the embarrassment wash over her body , as her hips buckled she could feel the cum leaking out her pussy - did she really just orgasm just by the feeling of your lips on her neck?

you pull away, looking at ellie's face, her chest heaving as she tries to get her breath .the supirse was evident on your face, and you couldn't help the way your ego boosts a little at the sight. . your own thighs clenching together , your sharp eyes now staring at ellie's sweatpants.

"take off your pants. ."

"sh -- shit! ahh! feels so . . ah!"

your lips placed around ellie's pink clit, sucking on it sometimes letting your tongue flicker against her which made her thighs shake - ellie's groans escaping from her lips and into your ears making you suck against her harder. . . one of your hands holding her thigh open as the other held her naked breast - her white shirt pulled all the way up to her chin.

you pull away for a moment, causing ellie to whine at the cold air hitting her wet cunt.

you lean back in , tongue now lapping at at her cunt in fast motions - you groan at the feeling of ellie's fingers pulling at your hair . . you could feel her wetness trickling down your chin . .

"feels -- so fucking good! f- fuck!" ellie choked out - this was almost like vivid sex dream she couldn't believe was real. . never did she ever think she'd actually have your head in between her thighs getting her off - her hips buckling up into the air , leaning more into your mouth . . seemingly attempting to thrust into your mouth, which caused you to chuckle at how needy she was being.

your tongue now sliding down to her clenching hole , entering it her pulsing cunt around your pink muscle as you develed in her pussy.

you were almost pussy drunk just from her taste , so bittersweet but so enjoyable as you moved your head side to side . . one of your arm moving away from her breast and on her stomach - fingers leaning towards her cunt as you presses them down on her puffy clit.

"f- fuck! think I'm gonna -- cum again!" ellie moaned out as her hips now buckled against the sheets, groaning when she feels you push one of her legs deeper on the bed so they spread wider.

" eating my -- pussy so fucking good! fu -- fuck!" ellie hands that was once gripping your hair was attempting to push your head away from her pulsing cunt , you could feel her cum soaking your tongue causing you to moan against her rolling your tongue in small circles before eventually being forcibly removed by ellie's hands.

"Too much -- fuck!"

your lips were soaked as you licked them, moaning at the taste of her still. . . your stare penarating ellie as you just stared at her chest rapidly, moving up and down ,head still leaning back into her pillow, heavy breathing escaping her mouth.

the sight of her breast still uncovered made you all squirmy inside , as if your panties weren't totally ruined hours ago.

you lean away, on your knees, hands going to remove your shorts and underwear and carelessly throwing them to her floor. . ellie eyes were closed, not noticing your movement as she was still coming down from her high , you move to her body hands opening her shaky thighs once more as you slip your legs in hers.

"w-what are you -- woah. ." ellie began to ask before realizing your position, her already pink cheeks going a deeper shade.

taking a breath before planting yourself on top of ellie , gasping at the feeling of all of her wetness spreading against your pussy - ellie breathed heavily at the unfamiliar feeling . . holy shit a bunch of curse words floating around her brain her mind still couldn't comprehend if this was real or not.

you lean forward, planting your hands on ellie's abdomen and began to slowly rut your cunt into ellie's , whining as your clit bumped into hers. . you weren't gonna last long. You knew that already - so you started to move your hips eagerly against her grinding harder as both if your slicks mixed with eachother. .

the only sound heard in the room was the wetness of your two pussies and soft , gentle moans escaping both of your mouths - you pulled your hands away reaching for your shirt tossing it off of you as you rutted your hips harder. . you could feel your cunt clenching against ellie's getting ready for a release.

"Ahh -- ohnygodd! feels so goo - ellie!"You panted, throwing your head back further. .lost in your own pleasure, you don't feel ellie's eyes on you. . . she watched in awe as your pretty breast moved on your chest from your faster movement - the beautiful fucked out expression shown on your face . . . god you were so beautiful - ellie suddenly growing confident placed her hands on your hips, moving your hips for you against her. .fast and urgently.

your eyes rolling back as your incoherent sentences meant her ears - letting out a low groan as she felt your pussy clench and leak against her's . . observing you intently with hard breaths as your body shook from your orgasm.

yeah. . this wasn't a fucking dream. . and thank god for that.

hope this was good !! this was one of my first request !! 💌💌

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #43

Stitches

Imagine dis…

I was just cleaning my room when I came across an old stuffed toy of mine. It is full of stitches like an amateur trying surgery for the first time and flopping it. I just remembered sewing my stuffed toy together as a kid. Like I was playing on them too harshly or one of my younger siblings got a hold of it and roughed it all up. So when I noticed my mom had no time to help me stitch my toy, I did it myself and the results varied…

…

John Constantine, aka the Laughing Magician, wasn’t an idiot. A drunk? Absolutely. A smoker? You bet. Had the worst bloody taste in romantic or sexual partners? Well, that’s a given. But an idiot? Not a chance. He knew, better than most, that the world he lived in was held together by nothing more than spit, lies, and a hell of a lot of bloody stubbornness.

But lately, something felt off…

Every time some wanker in a bright-colored cape and spandex punched, both literally and figuratively, through time or ripped an open hole to another dimension, it began as if reality was fixing itself.

He still remembered the bloody heart attack he nearly had the first time he read those sodding reports on time travel and dimension hopping. The second his eyes skimmed over the first few lines, he buggered off without so much as a goodbye, diving headfirst into the mess to sniff out whatever godawful consequences those spandex-clad pillocks had left in their wake. So imagine his surprise when, after dragging his sorry arse across the whole damn world, he found… nothing.

Not a damn thing.

No lingering paradoxes, no dangerous tears leaking out eldritch nightmares. It wasn’t natural. And anything unnatural coming from the bastard that split his soul like some two-bit, overachieving Voldemort, made his skin crawl.

So, like any poor sod with a knack for bad decisions and a bloody inconvenient conscience, he followed the ripples.

And that’s how he ended up standing in the inky void between worlds, a cig hanging off his lips, watching some scrawny teenager go to the fabric of reality that was torn apart by yet another one of those bloody spandex-wearing tossers, with a needle, like the universe had personally pissed in his pint.

The kid sat cross-legged in the void, stabbing his bloody needle through the fabric of space-time, and from the looks of it he was fueled by nothing but caffeine and a serious dose of spite. The thread he was using was bright blue, flickering with silver and white specks. Like tiny stars in each thread. Each stitch yanked the frayed edges of existence together, a bit rougher than necessary, like he was pissed off at the whole damn universe.

Constantine blew out a long stream of smoke, taking in the mess around him with a grimace. A sorry bloody sight, that’s for sure.

The kid had already clocked the audience, rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash. He didn’t even bother with a glance, clearly unimpressed.

The kid introduced himself as Danny, then stretched out another few feet of thread and got back to stitching, like he hadn’t a care in the world.

The kid, Danny, if Constantine heard right, grunted, clearly unimpressed. He didn’t stop working, shoulders hunched in exhaustion like he’d been doing this for far too long. The whole cosmic janitor routine: they rip holes, he stitches 'em up. Same old, same old.

Bloody typical.

Constantine crouched down, eyeing the erratic stitching with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. This wasn’t normal, not by a long shot.

Danny let out a sharp, humorless laugh, clearly fed up. He jabbed the needle into a particularly stubborn tear with all the force of someone who'd had enough. The sarcasm practically dripped from him. Seems he was well and truly done with his unglamorous role in this cosmic mess.

Constantine felt a prickle of unease, the kind that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He didn’t need to ask, but he did anyway.

What happens if you stop?

Danny’s response was all sarcasm and sass, if there was any doubt left, it was gone now. He didn’t even need to elaborate. The answer was bloody obvious if the kid, Danny, ever stopped stitching.

Danny snorted, flashing Constantine a wicked grin, all teeth and mischief. The kind of smile that made his gut twist.

Ah. Bugger.

Constantine didn’t need a bloody prophecy to know what that meant. If the kid stopped, the world wouldn’t just fall apart it would unravel, slow and steady, like a seamstress unpicking stitches, one by one, until nothing was left. And worse? There’d be no afterlife waiting to catch the poor sods caught in the collapse. No heaven, no hell, no second chances. Just the abyss, swallowing everything whole. No way in. No way out.

Now Constantine was scrambling, doing everything in his power to keep the kid from buggering off while there were still holes left to patch. And, just as importantly, making sure those spandex-clad pillocks finally got the memo, no more bloody time travel or dimension-hopping shenanigans.

The kid must’ve clocked what he was up to because, without a word, he handed Constantine a green-glowing bat with “Creepstick” printed on the side. He didn’t think much of it at first up until, after one particularly miserable day, he swung the thing in frustration and accidentally clocked Superman, who had just been reaching out to ask if he was alright.

For a second, Constantine felt guilty. Then he remembered that the Kryptonian had probably punched more holes in reality than anyone else. That guilt? Gone. Replaced by pure, unfiltered glee.

With renewed purpose, he set his sights on the next offender, the red spandex speedster responsible for most of the timeline’s headaches. The rest of the heroes caught on quickly that he was on some kind of unholy warpath. So when he casually knocked the Man of Steel on his arse with a single swing and grinned like a serial killer who’d just found his next victim, they did the smart thing they got the hell out of his way.

Some of the ones with super-hearing overheard his next target: one of the Flashes.

Constantine knew damn well he wasn’t getting into any afterlife, but for fuck’s sake, if they didn’t stop tearing holes in the bloody universe, none of them would have a place to go. No heaven, no hell just the abyss waiting to swallow them whole. And he wasn’t about to let that happen on his watch.

…

 PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: I tried using Constantine POV throughout the entire prompt and as you can see that I over did at the Brit slang.

PPPS: Though, how did I do?….

[goldfades]

Please more controversially young gf for sid🫶🏽🫶🏽

you ask, i deliver!! i hope u enjoy<3

You always joked about Sidney’s age.

Always chirped him about his back, his knees, the way he sometimes got up in the morning with a groan like he was a man twice his age. You teased him relentlessly, with little jabs like "Want me to grab your cane, Grandpa?" when he stretched too long after practice.

But when you saw him go down on the ice, nothing was funny.

Nothing at all.

You didn’t even register what had happened at first. One second, he was in the play, moving like he always did—fast, sharp, instinctual—and then the next, he was hit hard along the boards, his body crumbling in a way that was all wrong.

Your heart stopped. Literally stopped. Your breath caught somewhere in your throat, and suddenly, the crowd noise, the commentators, the sounds of skates slicing ice—it all faded into a dull, meaningless blur.

Because he wasn’t getting up.

Your hands clenched around the edge of your seat so tightly your knuckles ached. Time felt slow, unbearably so, like you were watching the worst moment of your life play out in slow motion. He was on his knees, then on his side, and there was a trainer already rushing out to him. But he wasn’t moving like he should be.

You felt sick. A tangible, horrible nausea that curled in your stomach and made your whole body feel cold.

Sidney was tough. Tougher than most. He had taken hits before, had gotten back up when no one else could. But this—this wasn’t right.

You barely noticed the people around you. Barely heard the fans murmuring, the worried whispers and sharp intakes of breath, the occasional muttered, "Shit, that looked bad."

All you knew was that your chest felt tight, too tight, like you couldn’t get a full breath in.

And then, finally, finally, he moved.

Slow. Careful. The kind of movement that told you it hurt like hell but he was too stubborn to let anyone see just how bad it was. He pressed his hand to the ice for support, his jaw clenched, his eyes set forward in that focused, determined way you knew so well.

It should have made you feel better. It didn’t.

Because you knew him.

You knew his pain tolerance was stupidly high, that if he wasn’t just popping up and skating back into the play, something was really, really wrong.

You didn’t even think before you moved. The second he was helped off the ice and down the tunnel, you were out of your seat, pushing through the rows, ignoring the way people turned to watch you. You didn’t care. Didn’t care that the cameras might catch you, didn’t care what social media would say, didn’t care about anything except getting to him.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you made your way through the winding hallways of the arena, the path to the medical room too familiar by now. You had done this before, more times than you wanted to admit. But it never got easier.

The second you reached the room, you barely hesitated before pushing the door open.

And there he was.

Sidney sat on the exam table, gear still on, one skate unlaced, his posture stiff like he was bracing for bad news. His head snapped up the moment he saw you, and something in his face softened.

"You’re not supposed to be back here," he said, his voice rough but steady.

"Yeah, well," you exhaled, still trying to calm the pounding in your chest, "try and stop me."

And just like that, whatever resolve you had left crumbled.

You crossed the room in seconds, standing between his knees, your hands finding his face, tilting it up, searching. His helmet had been removed, his hair damp with sweat, his brow creased in quiet frustration.

"You scared the shit out of me," you admitted, your voice quiet, your thumbs tracing lightly over his cheekbones.

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but the pain in his eyes dulled it. "Didn’t mean to."

"You weren’t moving," you whispered. "I thought—I thought—"

Your throat closed up, and Sidney—ever steady, ever calm, even when he was the one hurt—reached for your wrist, grounding you with a squeeze.

"I’m okay," he murmured. "Just sore."

You didn’t believe him, not entirely, but he was looking at you like he needed you to, like he needed you to be steady for him.

So you nodded, exhaling shakily. "I’ll be the judge of that."

He let out a breath of amusement, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "That right?"

"Damn right," you said, shifting so you could press your forehead against his. "Now let me have my dramatic, emotionally charged moment, please."

Sidney huffed a soft laugh, closing his eyes for a second, letting you linger in the quiet. And when he finally spoke again, his voice was low, just for you.

"I’m glad you’re here."

And just like that, the tightness in your chest eased.

Because yeah, the world could speculate all it wanted. People could talk about the age gap, the controversy, the noise. But right now, in this small, fluorescent-lit medical room, none of it mattered.

Because you loved him.

And he loved you.

And at the end of the day, that was the only thing that ever would.

Sidney was not a good patient.

This was something you learned very quickly.

The second the team doctors gave him strict orders to rest, you knew it was only a matter of time before he started pushing it. Because he was Sidney Crosby—one of the most disciplined, regimented, "tough it out and get back on the ice" people to ever exist. He didn’t do rest. Didn’t do sitting still, didn’t do taking it easy.

Which meant you had to be the one to make him.

Lucky for him, you had absolutely no problem being a pain in his ass.

"Sit. Down."

You stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, staring Sidney down as he very slowly tried to get up from the couch. He was still in sweats, fresh from a shower, his damp hair slightly messy in a way that would’ve been distracting if you weren’t so focused on keeping him immobile.

"I was just—"

"—going to sit your ass back down like the doctors told you," you finished for him. "Good call."

Sid exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "I’m fine."

"You have a bruised rib," you reminded him, walking toward him and shoving him back down with one finger on his chest. "Which means no skating, no lifting, no ‘I swear I’m just stretching’—and definitely no trying to prove how tough and manly you are by walking around like a fully functional human when we both know you are not."

He just looked at you, lips twitching, because he was definitely entertained by the way you were talking to him.

"You enjoy this, don’t you?" he asked, voice tinged with amusement.

You scoffed. "Oh, so much." You pointed at him again. "Now stay there while I get your meds."

Sid obeyed, but you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and pulling his painkillers from the cabinet. You turned back to him, shaking two pills into your palm.

"Take these," you ordered, stepping back toward him.

He raised an eyebrow but took the pills from your hand. "I could do this myself, you know."

"Could you, though?" you mused, tilting your head. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re a very injured man who should probably stop arguing with his extremely generous, very beautiful, highly intelligent, and endlessly patient nurse."

Sid let out a slow, amused breath, shaking his head. "Highly patient, huh?"

You handed him the water, watching as he swallowed the meds, and then took the glass back when he was done. "Unbelievably patient," you confirmed. "Practically saintly."

Sid didn’t reply, just watched you with that look—the one where his lips curled slightly, his eyes softened, and you knew, knew, that if he weren’t injured, he’d be pulling you into his lap just to shut you up.

Instead, he settled for reaching out and grabbing your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Thanks for taking care of me."

You shrugged, sitting on the couch next to him, curling up so your legs tucked under you. "Someone has to make sure you don’t do anything stupid."

He hummed, shifting slightly to get comfortable. "Don’t I have trainers for that?"

"Yeah, but I’m meaner," you pointed out. "And I have better hair."

Sid chuckled, tilting his head toward you, his expression easy and fond. "Can’t argue with that."

You smirked, leaning your head against his shoulder, being careful not to press against the bruised side of his ribs. "Damn right you can’t."

And despite everything—despite his injury, despite the way you knew he hated being sidelined—Sidney relaxed. Because this? This was what made it all okay.

Even if you were bossy. Even if you were slightly unbearable in full nurse mode.

You were his. And that made every moment—every ridiculous, slightly bitchy, very loving moment—worth it.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

could I request one for Benedict where he prepares a special date for reader after she has a difficult birth?

A/n: Benedict would, literally the sweetest.

You were everything to Benedict, the love of his life, his soul mate and now you gave him a child.

It was a difficult birth, one that scared him, one that made him think he was going to lose you, lose his child but you both made it.

You both were fine and he was going to spoil you because you deserved this and more.

Benedict gave you a soft smile, his fingers brushing your cheek then tucking a strand of your hair out of your face. You gave your husband a smile eyeing him for a moment. "Benedict you don't have too."

A scoff left his lips as he brought your hand to his lips kissing it as he then lifted you into his arms to carry you. "Nonsense...No protests,” he interrupted with a playful smile, but his eyes were filled with concern. “Let me spoil my wife...I promise, it is nothing strenuous. Just…let me do this for you.”

And so you did.

He carried you to the garden, where the warm glow of lanterns illuminated a small, intimate setting. A table was set beneath the canopy of wisteria, the delicate flowers swaying in the evening breeze. Soft cushions adorned the chairs, and a warm blanket was draped over one, waiting for you. Candlelight flickered against the silverware, casting a golden hue over the scene.

“Oh, Benedict…” Your breath hitched as you took it all in.

Walking towards a small comfortable chair he placed you down and placed a kiss on top of your head, his hand then found yours, fingers lacing together.

“You’ve been through so much, my love. You have given me the most precious gift in the world, and yet I feel as though I haven’t done enough for you in return.” His voice was quiet, filled with sincerity. “So tonight is just for you. No responsibilities, no demands—only comfort.”

Making sure you were warm and settled, Benedict settled down next to you. The meal was simple yet decadent, your favorite dishes prepared with care. He watched you with soft amusement as you took slow bites, ensuring you were eating properly, but not in a way that felt overbearing. A sigh leaving your lips, body visibly relaxing.

As the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly—lighthearted at times, sentimental at others. The weight of the past weeks seemed to lift, even if just for a while. And when your exhaustion inevitably caught up with you, Benedict was at your side in an instant. Your eyes dropping for a moment, you did your best to keep them open but your exhaustion was clearing hitting you.

Without hesitation, before you even had a chance to even blink he pulled you into his arms, guiding your head to rest against his chest, your body now settled in his lap, and as you sat together his fingers traced gentle patterns along your back, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

“You are extraordinary,” he murmured against your hair. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

Tears pricked at your eyes—not from sadness, but from the sheer depth of love in his voice. You curled closer, letting the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothe you. Your head tucking into the crook of his neck a soft chuckle leaving your lips. "I love you, I do hope you know that Benedict."

For the first time in weeks, you felt truly cherished.

[koyagifs]

𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

pairing: jongho x reader au: idol | friends to lovers | genre: fluff word count: 1.1 k synopsis: a harsh break up should have stopped jongho from pursuing you but it didn’t. it fueled him even more - to prove you deserve the world & more. warning(s): fluff, sweet tooth rotting - literally will get cavities.

Jongho’s jaw tightened the moment he saw you standing at his door, tears streaking your cheeks. His heart ached at the sight of you, his hands curling into fists at his sides as his anger bubbled beneath the surface. You stepped inside hesitantly, your voice shaky as you spoke.

“He just—he said it wasn’t working,” you choked out, your sobs breaking up your words. “But I know it’s because of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t want to—he didn’t even care enough to try.”

Jongho clenched his fists tighter, the thought of your ex’s cowardice fueling his rage. A week before Valentine’s, and that’s how he ends it? Pathetic. He wanted nothing more than to storm out and teach the guy a lesson, but he knew better than to leave you here like this.

You sank down on the edge of his bed, hiding your face in your hands as the tears kept falling. Jongho took a steadying breath, forcing himself to sit down next to you. His anger could wait—right now, you needed him.

“He’s an idiot,” Jongho said firmly, his deep voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “A complete, clueless idiot. You deserve so much better than that.”

You sniffled, peeking at him through watery eyes. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jongho said quickly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently brushing a tear away from your cheek with his thumb. “He just didn’t see what he had, and that’s on him. Not you.”

His touch was gentle, his expression softer now as he looked at you. Despite the fire in his chest, he wanted to be your calm—the person you could lean on when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

“Don’t cry over someone who didn’t see your worth,” he added, his voice quieter now. “Save your tears for people who deserve them. People who’d do anything to make sure you never feel this way again.”

You blinked at him, his words sinking in as you wiped at your cheeks. “Thank you, Jongho,” you whispered, your voice cracking just slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Jongho swallowed hard, fighting the urge to tell you everything he felt in that moment. That he’d never let anyone hurt you like this again. That he wanted to show you how you should be treated—how he would treat you if you let him. But instead, he settled for pulling you into his arms, his chin resting gently on the top of your head.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Always.”

Jongho’s palms were clammy as he glanced over the setup for the tenth time. The red-and-white checkered blanket was spread perfectly on the grass, weighted down by the basket packed with your favorite snacks and a bouquet of fresh flowers he’d spent way too long picking out. The cool breeze ruffled his hair as he paced back and forth, stealing glances at the park entrance every few seconds.

What if this is too much? he thought, running a hand through his hair for the fifth time. What if she’s not ready?

The memory of your tear-streaked face a week ago played in his mind, and he clenched his fists at his sides. He’d spent every moment since then trying to think of how to make today perfect for you. He wanted you to feel cherished, loved—even if you weren’t ready to fully open your heart again.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out with shaky hands. It was a text from you: “I’m almost there! :)”

He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves. It’s just Yn. You’ve been there for her a million times before. But this time felt different. This time, he wasn’t just your friend. He wanted to be the one who healed the wounds someone else had left behind.

The sound of your footsteps approaching made him turn around, and when he saw you, his breath hitched. You were dressed in a soft, flowy outfit that made you look effortlessly beautiful, and the smile on your face when you saw him sent his heart racing.

“Jongho!” you called, waving as you approached. “This is… wow. Did you do all this for me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “Yeah. I just… I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it.”

Your smile widened, and his nerves melted away when you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug. “Thank you,” you whispered. “This is already the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

Jongho felt his chest swell with pride as he hugged you back, his grip just tight enough to let you know he meant it when he said he’d always be there for you. “I’m glad,” he murmured. “Because you deserve nothing less.”

You playfully shoved Jongho’s shoulder, the soft blush still on your cheeks as you smiled up at him. “Stop being all serious. You’re making me feel like I’m the one who should be giving you something special today,” you teased, trying to brush off the warmth creeping up your neck.

Jongho’s grin widened, and he leaned back on his hands, looking at you with that protective, affectionate gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. “Well, you already gave me something special. Just being here with me—this is enough. More than enough.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a soft laugh in your voice. “You’re such a sap.” You scooted closer to the picnic spread, eyeing the food. “But, if you’re offering, I won’t say no to some snacks.”

Jongho laughed, his nerves melting completely now that you were here, and the mood between you was light and easy. He reached over and handed you a plate with your favorite sandwiches. “I knew you’d go for the food first,” he teased, watching you take a bite happily.

“Well, you did put a lot of effort into this picnic. It’s only fair,” you said with a wink before you softened, your gaze shifting back to him. “Really, Jongho. Thank you. For all of this. I feel like I’ve been running on empty lately, but today, you’ve made me feel… full again. Like everything’s going to be okay.”

Jongho’s heart clenched at your words. He wasn’t doing this for any reward—he was doing it because you were his. He wanted to be the one who reminded you of your worth, even when the world seemed unfair.

“Anytime,” he whispered, his voice steady. “As long as you need me, I’ll be here.”

You smiled, your eyes softening as you met his gaze. And in that moment, it didn’t matter if it was Valentine’s Day or any other day—it was the two of you, in the quiet comfort of each other’s company, with a bond that was already stronger than words could express.

[missbbg]

Bullies using cunt as a dumpster

As a highschool student, being bullied is nothing new. I will get bullied but, as a girl....

A gang of bullies, five people, has started to torment me. First it was simple sit ups and jumps that made my boobs bounce but it's okay, as long as they don't beat me right? But soon, it was demands. You started folding and pulling my skirt upto mid-thigh, asked me to tighten my uniform.

Every morning, you would call me, pull my skirt up so that whenever I bend my panty could be seen. Take off my bra and keep the buttons of the shirt open for a good view of the cleavage. But you deem it not enough so you pull my skirt up, push my panties aside and inserted a pencil in my cunt. Your friends find it interesting and started inserting more things, a pen, scale, but let me off with two highlighters in. As you push the highlighters in even when I was crying in pain, you pull my panties to give me a wedgie tight enought to keep the highlighters in. Making the skirt straight back down, each one your spanked me sending me off to class with a new look. Braless tits in a white shirt, a wedgie with ass and pussy lips in display covered by a short skirt.

The whole school wa staring, maybe I felt some hands groping me. At lunch break, you'll took the highlighters out and inspected my pussy. It seems empty. So you bend me over the stray desk in the corridor and fuck my pussy, each one you cumming in my hole before replacing another cock. You all fill my hole, then two dicks at one no cum getting wasted. Two of yours friends fucking my ass and storing their cum. But you think it's too decent.

So you throw me in a garbage can halfway, and fuck my bare pussy pumping more cum and beer in it. Drawing and writing on my ass to invite more people as freeuse. Your friends think my ass needs some whips, so they take out belt and whips my pussy, while I beg and keep crying for them to let me go. They had found some empty bottles lying around so they put it in my ass while assualting my cunt with their fist, the fist reach deep inside making the cum reach even more deep.

"Stay here every lunch like this." Is all you'd say before leaving me in the dustbin with cum dripping from my filled pussy and bottles shoved my ass where 'freeuse' is written. The other students see you, they find it inviting so they ignored your cry and fuck your cunt pumping it full, before leaving with a spank. You think some teachers also put their old cocks and pissed in you along with cumming. They found it hilarious to put their rulers in your ass along with bottles to leave a mark. So there you are with cum and piss dripping from your pussy and ass stuffed with plastic bottle and scales.

But you obey your bullies, every lunch you bend in the dustbin leaving your bare hole out for anyone to use. Your bullies come right on time and they dump their cum and trash in your holes, be it plastic, chips bags, chocolate wrapper, juice cans or beer. After they leave you can feel several wrappers in your pussy deep and so does the other people who fucks you after them, but they don't care they just fuck your pussy, fill it with cum and piss for you to later fist yourself and take out those filthy wrappers along with the several liters of cum.

PS: My asks are open! So request or ask me something I will answer💋

[eunoia-writes]

The babysitter • bodyguard!Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Victor Dimitri has had enough of his daughter and her wild streak. When she crosses a boundary even she knows she shouldn’t have, he hires her a personal bodyguard or in her words, A babysitter. When he comes into her life she’s defiant won’t listen to a word he says but Rafe is used to a challenge

Warnings: Mention of violence, Dark themes, murder, Kidnapping, drug trafficking and Abuse, Neglectful parents, sexual themes, eventual Smut- MDI

Previous

———

Y/n was dying.

Okay, maybe not literally, but she sure as hell felt like it.

Her head was pounding, her stomach churning violently as she clung to the toilet bowl for dear life. The room spun every time she so much as breathed, and every time she thought she was done throwing up, her stomach cruelly reminded her otherwise.

This was, without a doubt, the worst hangover she’d ever had.

She barely registered the sound of the door opening until a familiar, deep voice cut through the haze of her misery.

“Jesus Christ.”

Y/N groaned, slumping against the cool porcelain. “Go away.”

Rafe ignored her, stepping inside and crouching down beside her. He was back in his usual fitted slacks and black button-down, but he’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, and the sight of his forearms shouldn’t have been as distracting as it was.

He brushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead. “You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks,” she muttered weakly.

His lips twitched, but his expression remained mostly unreadable. “Here.” He held out a bottle of water. “Drink.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t wanna.”

Rafe sighed, clearly so over her dramatics. “Y/N.” With a heavy sigh, she took the bottle and sipped hesitantly. The water was cold, refreshing—at least until her stomach lurched again, and she barely made it back over the toilet in time.

Rafe didn’t flinch, just rubbed soothing circles into her back. “You’re a fucking mess, you know that?”

She groaned, resting her forehead against her arm. “I know.”

A pause. Then—shockingly—his voice softened. “You should take a nap.”

She scoffed, though it lacked any real energy. “I can’t even stand, Rafe. How the hell am I supposed to get to my bed?”

Before she could protest, strong arms slid under her legs and back, and suddenly, she was being lifted effortlessly into the air.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up,” he muttered, carrying her like she weighed nothing.

She should’ve been embarrassed. Or maybe annoyed. Instead, she just… melted into him, too weak to care.

He laid her down gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Y/N blinked up at him. “What for?”

“You’ll see.” He smirked, then—holy shit—he pressed a quick kiss to her temple before disappearing out the door.

She barely had time to process that before exhaustion finally dragged her under.

When she woke up, Rafe walked in with a tray ln hand . Soup, crackers, a bottle of ginger ale. And next to it—

Lilies.

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

Did Rafe—?

Her eyes widened as she stared at the

flowers. “You... bought me flowers?”

He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “I remembered you said they were your favorite. Figured it might make you feel better.”

She was speechless. It was... sweet.

Thoughtful, even.

Rafe was never like this.

But before she could say anything, her bedroom door flew open, slamming against the wall.

It was her father.

And he did not look happy.

Her father stormed in, his face red with anger. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to get that call last night?”

Y/N froze, her body tensing. “Dad, I—”

“No, you don’t get to explain,” he snapped, his voice cold. “You were drunk off your ass, making a scene. What the hell were you thinking?”

Her initial guilt quickly morphed into defensiveness. “I was just having fun—”

“Fun?” He scoffed. “You’re reckless. Selfish. Do you have any idea how this reflects on me? On our family?”

She clenched her jaw, her shoulders squaring. “Of course that’s all you care about. How it makes you look.”

“Watch your tone,” he warned, his eyes narrowing. “You’re already on thin ice.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate, but Rafe stepped in, his voice firm. “She’s hungover and exhausted. Maybe this conversation can wait.”

Her father turned his icy glare on him. “This is none of your concern, Cameron.”

Rafe didn’t flinch. “I’m just saying she needs rest. That’s all.”

Her father looked like he wanted to argue but finally turned away, his shoulders stiff. “This isn’t over, Dinner with Don is at 7 be ready.” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Y/N sank back into her pillows, anger and embarrassment swirling in her chest.

Rafe watched her carefully. “You okay?”

She shot him a glare. “Why do you care?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “I was just—”

“Just what?” Her voice was sharp, biting. “You think I need your pity? Or maybe you just enjoy seeing me get yelled at.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not—”

“Oh, save it, Rafe,” she snapped. “I’m not in the mood for your condescending bullshit. Just... leave me alone.”

For a moment, he looked genuinely hurt. But it was gone in a flash, his expression hardening as he turned on his heel and walked out.

—

Y/N hated these dinners.

Sitting in a room full of criminals, listening to them talk business like they were at a corporate board meeting.

And tonight was no different.

Y/N sat stiffly at the dining table, her fingers wrapped around her wine glass, her head still pounding from her hangover.

The Castello family was seated around the table, their voices low as they discussed business.

“About that shipment last month,” her father began, voice calm but firm. “We heard there were complications.”

Don’s smirk didn’t waver. “A minor inconvenience. The feds have been getting bolder. But our people took care of it.”

“I hope your people were thorough,” her father said. “We can’t afford any loose ends.”

“You worry too much, old man.”

Her father’s lips curled. “When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, there’s always something to worry about.” He leaned forward. “Which is why we need to talk about the Moretti family.”

The conversation spiraled deeper into discussions of betrayal, blood, and backstabbing. Y/N forced herself to zone out, pushing the food around on her plate.

Rafe stood behind her, his posture casual, but his gaze was sharp, always surveying, always watching.

She could feel his eyes on her, a weight that made her skin prickle with irritation.

She took a sip of her wine, her fingers tightening around the delicate stem of the glass as she forced herself to swallow the bitterness swirling inside her. It wasn’t just the hangover that had her on edge. It was him.

The way he was hovering. The way he was watching her like she was some fragile thing that might shatter at any moment. The way he’d been sweet and attentive earlier, only to turn back into his usual condescending self the second she’d snapped at him.

She hated it. She hated him.

Rafe leaned down, his voice a low murmur just for her. “You’re tapping your foot. It’s annoying.”

She stilled, her jaw tightening. “Then don’t listen.”

He gave a small, humorless chuckle. “Kinda hard when you’re vibrating the whole damn floor.”

She turned her head, just enough to meet his eyes. “Maybe you should stand somewhere else, then.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint, infuriating smirk. “Not my choice, Princess. You’re stuck with me.”

Her fingers dug into her thigh. “Lucky me.”

Don Castellano’s voice boomed across the table, pulling her attention back to the conversation. “The Moretti family’s been getting bold. Too bold. Makes you wonder who’s been whispering in their ears.”

Her father’s expression was cold, calculating. “They’ve always been slippery. But we’re not worried. They’ll get what’s coming to them.”

Y/N’s stomach turned, her appetite vanishing. She hated these dinners. Hated the thinly veiled threats, the power plays hidden behind polite smiles. She reached for her wine again, taking another long sip, hoping the alcohol would numb the unease coiling in her gut.

Rafe’s voice was low and close again. “Careful. Don’t need you making a scene... again.”

Her fingers tightened around the glass, a surge of heat rushing to her cheeks. “I’m not drunk.”

He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Yet.”

She grit her teeth. “I’m not going to embarrass myself. Or you.”

His smirk faltered, his gaze softening for just a moment before his usual guarded expression returned. “This isn’t about me.”

She looked away, her shoulders rigid. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He let out a slow exhale. “You’re impossible.”

She took another sip of her wine, her lips curving into a bitter smile. “And you’re insufferable.”

Before he could respond, Luca Castellano’s voice cut through the room. “If they’re snitching, we can’t just cut them out. We need to make an example of them. Something public. Something loud.”

Y/n’s father nodded in agreement. “We can’t let the other families think we’re weak.”

A chill ran down her spine. She set her wine glass down carefully, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. She hated this world. Hated the violence that was always lurking beneath the surface, the ruthless decisions made without a second thought.

Rafe’s eyes were on her again, his gaze sharper, more attentive. “You okay?” he murmured.

She didn’t look at him. “I’m not a fucking baby,” she hissed under her breath.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t push it.

As Luca leaned back in his chair, a sly smile on his lips, he turned his attention to her. “You’ve grown up, Y/N. Last time I saw you, you were still clinging to your father’s leg.”

She forced a polite smile. “People grow up, Luca. Even me.”

His dark eyes gleamed. “I suppose so. And here I thought you’d be married off by now. Surprised your old man hasn’t found you a nice husband to... keep you in line.”

Her smile turned icy. “I don’t need a man to keep me in line.”

Rafe’s fingers twitched at his side, his posture stiffening ever so slightly.

Luca’s smile widened, clearly enjoying himself. “Feisty. Just like your mother.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. She reached for her wine, needing something to steady herself. As she did, Rafe’s arm moved, reaching for a dish in front of her.

She thought he was about to knock her glass over, so she moved to grab it herself—

Her fingers slipped, and the glass tipped, spilling dark red wine all down the front of her dress.

The room went silent.

Her cheeks burned with humiliation, her hands shaking as she tried to dab at the stain with her napkin. But it was useless. The deep red liquid was already soaking into the fabric, spreading like blood.

She looked up at Rafe, anger blazing in her eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she whispered furiously.

His eyes were wide, his mouth opening to protest. But her father’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “Y/N, enough.”

She snapped her mouth shut, the humiliation and anger twisting together, making it hard to breathe.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, then looked at Rafe, her eyes narrowing.

Rafe: Stop fucking glaring at me.


Y/N: Don’t tell me what to do.


Rafe: You’re being so pathetic.


Y/N: Oh I’m pathetic? Good one, Rafe.

She shoved her phone back into her purse, her whole body buzzing with anger. She wanted to scream. To throw her glass against the wall. To do something to release the pressure building inside her.

Instead, she forced herself to sit there, her hands trembling in her lap, her dress soaked and ruined.

And Rafe stood behind her, his jaw tight, his shoulders tense, his presence like a shadow she could never escape.

—

The car door slammed behind her, rattling the glass. Y/N crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Her dress was ruined, stained with red wine that was already drying into an ugly, sticky mess. She could still feel the weight of everyone’s stares, the mocking glint in Luca’s eyes, the tight disapproval in her father’s voice.

And it was all his fault.

Rafe got into the driver’s seat, his movements rigid and controlled, his face a mask of cold indifference. He didn’t even look at her as he started the engine.

The silence was suffocating. Tension crackled between them, thick and heavy. She watched the lights of the city blur past the window, her fingers digging into her arms as she tried to hold herself together.

But the embarrassment, the anger, the humiliation—it was all boiling over.

She couldn’t keep it in any longer. “You are such an asshole.”

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, but his eyes stayed on the road. “What the hell are you talking about now?”

Her laugh was cold, sharp. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You just had to reach across me right then, didn’t you?”

“I was reaching for the plate. It’s not my fault you’re so jumpy.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. You did it on purpose.” She turned to glare at him, her eyes blazing. “You just love seeing me humiliated, don’t you?”

He scoffed, his jaw tightening. “Believe it or not, Princess, not everything’s about you.”

Princess.

She fucking hated that.

She felt her hands shaking, her anger spilling over. “I wouldn’t have spilled the wine if you weren’t hovering over me like a fucking shadow all the time!”

“Yeah? Well, maybe if you weren’t acting like a spoiled little brat all night, you wouldn’t have drawn so much attention to yourself.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, his words hitting her like a slap. “A brat? I was sitting there minding my own damn business.”

“Oh, give me a break. You were sulking the whole time, shooting daggers at me like a petulant child. God, you’re so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” She was practically shaking now, her nails digging into her arms. “You are unbelievable. You’ve been on my back all day, treating me like I’m some stupid little girl who can’t even take care of herself!”

He shot her a cold, sideways glance. “Maybe if you stopped acting like one, I wouldn’t have to.

Her mouth dropped open, shock and fury colliding inside her. “I hate you,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous.

He laughed, the sound bitter and cruel. “Good. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier when I don’t have to pretend to like you either.”

Her throat tightened, the back of her eyes burning. She wouldn’t cry. She refused to cry in front of him. Not after everything. Not after the way he’d made her feel.

“You are such a prick,” she spat, her voice shaking. “You act like you’re better than me, but you’re just as trapped as I am. You’re nothing but my father’s loyal little lapdog.”

His shoulders went rigid, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. “Watch it.” His voice was low, dangerous.

“Or what? You’ll tell Daddy on me?” She laughed, the sound hollow. “Go ahead. That’s all you’re good for anyway. Following orders like a mindless robot.”

He slammed on the brakes, jerking the car to a violent stop at a red light. He turned to her then, his eyes blazing, his face tight with anger. “You think I like this?” he snarled. “You think I enjoy babysitting some spoiled, entitled princess who can’t even go one night without throwing a tantrum?”

Her eyes widened, the venom in his voice catching her off guard. But she refused to back down. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “If I’m so insufferable, then why don’t you just quit?”

His eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But then who’d be around to save your ass every time you decided to do something stupid?”

She flinched, the truth in his words stinging more than she wanted to admit. But she wouldn’t let him see how much he was getting to her. “I never asked you to save me.”

“No,” he shot back, his voice low and cold. “But you keep needing it.”

She looked away, her chest heaving, anger and shame swirling inside her. “Screw you.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Trust me, Princess. That’s the last thing I’d ever want.”

Her head snapped back to him, her eyes blazing. “I hate you.”

“Dito,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the road as the light turned green. He slammed his foot on the gas, the car lurching forward.

The rest of the drive was silent, the air thick with tension and resentment. She stared out the window, her vision blurred with unshed tears, her throat burning.

She hated him. She hated him more than anyone she’d ever met.

So why did it hurt so much to hear him say he hated her too?

[hisfavegirl]

Jacaerys Velaryon As Your Soulmate.

Thanks to @zaldritzosrose for letting me use your beautiful dividers 🫶🏻

When He Propose To You.

The moment was so perfect it felt unreal. The Santorini sunset painted the sky in hues of gold, pink, and deep orange, casting a glow over the endless blue of the Aegean Sea. The soft breeze carried the scent of salt and summer, and the sound of the waves crashing below only made everything more surreal.

Jace had been acting a little off all day—nervous, fidgety, but still smiling like he always did when he looked at you. And then, as you stood together on the private balcony of your villa, overlooking the breathtaking view, he suddenly dropped to one knee.

Your heart stopped.

For a second, it felt like the entire world went silent.

Jace was staring up at you, his eyes filled with so much love it almost knocked the air out of your lungs.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for so damn long, I don’t even remember what life was like before you. And I don’t want to. I want you forever. Will you marry me?”

Your hands flew to your mouth, eyes already burning with tears. Your heart was pounding, your breath caught in your throat, and the moment felt so overwhelmingly perfect that for a split second, you couldn’t even speak.

Then you nodded frantically, laughing through your tears.

“Yes! Jace, yes!”

The second the words left your lips, he slipped the ring onto your finger—a stunning diamond that sparkled like the damn Santorini sky—before pulling you into his arms, spinning you around as you laughed and cried at the same time.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured against your lips, grinning like a lovesick fool.

“I’ve always been stuck with you,” you whispered back, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

And just like that, under the Santorini sunset, with the waves and the wind as your witnesses, you said yes to forever.

When You And Jace Posted The Announcement Of Your Engagement.

The internet broke.

The moment you and Jace posted the engagement photo—a breathtaking shot of you two in the crystal-clear waters of Santorini—the reactions were instantaneous.

The image was perfectly intimate: Jace, half-submerged in the water, his toned arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close, pressing a deep, possessive kiss to your lips. The sunlight reflected off the ocean, making the stunning diamond ring on your finger gleam as you lifted your hand, subtly flexing your fingers in a way that made it impossible to miss.

The caption?

“Forever with him. ☀️💍”

Jace’s post?

“She said yes. My girl, my future, my forever. 💙”

And just like that, chaos erupted.

Jace’s fangirls:

"NOOOOOOOO THIS ISN’T HAPPENING"

"I WAS LITERALLY MANIFESTING MY TURN WTF"

"DOES ANYONE KNOW IF THE SANTORINI OCEAN IS ACCEPTING DROWNED TEARS?"

"HE WAS SUPPOSED TO MARRY ME??"

"DELETE THIS I CAN’T BREATHE"

"'My girl, my future, my forever' YEAH JUST KILL ME THEN"

Your fanboys:

"BRO SHE’S GONE. IT’S OVER FOR US."

"This is pain. Real pain."

"Jace, let’s talk. I just wanna chat. loads shotgun"

"Do y’all think we still have a chance if she loses the ring in the ocean???"

"SHE WAS OUR QUEEN, NOW SHE’S HIS WIFE. WE HAVE NOTHING LEFT."

"Fellas, we lost a soldier today."

Random internet reactions:

"The way she’s flexing that ring while kissing him, she WANTED us to suffer."

"Jace bagged the baddest and made sure we all KNEW it. Respect."

"This is the equivalent of a public execution."

"Santorini tourism just skyrocketed bc everyone’s gonna go cry in the ocean now."

"The way he’s holding her? That man is NEVER letting go."

"This is some movie-level romance, wtf I’m so jealous."

Meanwhile, Jace? Smug as hell. The second the internet started melting down, he was in the comments, liking the most dramatic ones and posting another photo of him holding your hand, the ring on full display, with the caption:

“No refunds, no exchanges. She’s mine now. 💍😎”

And if that wasn’t enough? He posted a story of you two laughing in the Santorini sunset, him kissing your neck before murmuring:

“Sorry, guys. She picked me.”

The internet never recovered.

Jace Family Reaction To Your Engagement Announcement.

The Velaryons and Targaryens had very different reactions, but one thing was clear—they did not see this coming.

Rhaenyra (His Mother):

💬 “My son… engaged? I blinked and he was just a boy. Now he’s posting thirst traps and proposing in Santorini? Time flies…”

—Cue her immediately calling Jace, demanding details, and planning an extravagant wedding before you even had a chance to process everything.

Daemon (His Step-Father):

💬 “Took you long enough, boy. Thought I’d have to lock you two in a room until you figured it out.”

—He acts casual, but he’s secretly proud and already threatening Jace to never mess this up.

Baela & Rhaena (His Step-Sisters):

💬 Baela: “JACE. YOU DIDN’T TELL US YOU WERE PROPOSING?!”

💬 Rhaena: “Omg, she said yes?? Of course she did, but still!!”

—Both of them are spamming your phone demanding pictures of the ring, the moment, and every single detail.

Lucerys (His Younger Brother):

💬 “Wait… does this mean I have to call you my sister now?”

—He’s genuinely confused but happy, liking the post and commenting “Congrats, I guess.”

Aegon (His Uncle & Frenemy):

💬 “Bro, what the actual fuck? You got engaged before me? Oh, this is WAR.”

—Petty. Bitter. Fake mad but lowkey proud. He’ll NEVER admit it, though.

Aemond (His Other Uncle & Rival):

💬 “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

—Says this like he isn’t internally SHOCKED that Jace actually locked it down. He liked the post, but only because Helaena forced him.

Helaena (His Sweet Aunt):

💬 “This is wonderful! You both look so happy! 💙”

—Genuinely happy for you two, immediately asking if she can help plan anything.

Corlys & Rhaenys (His Grandparents):

💬 Corlys: “She’s family now. Make sure you treat her like a Velaryon.”

💬 Rhaenys: “It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for this.”

—They’re quietly pleased, but already discussing wedding venues and guest lists behind your backs.

Meanwhile, Jace?

He’s just grinning at his phone, watching the chaos unfold while pulling you into his lap, whispering:

“Guess there’s no turning back now, huh?” 😏

When You And Jace Posted Your Wedding Video On Internet.

The second the wedding video dropped—Jace walking out of the church, hand in hand with you, his smile so bright it could blind the sun—his fangirls lost their minds.

Jace Velaryon, the golden boy, the sweetheart, the man who had fangirls swooning over his every move, was officially off the market. And not just off the market—completely, hopelessly, obsessively in love with you.

The caption?

“Forever wasn’t long enough, so I married her. 💙”

And with that, Jace’s fanbase entered a collective meltdown.

Instagram Comments Section: A Fangirl Massacre

“This is the worst day of my life.” 😭💔

“WHY DID I EVEN WAKE UP TODAY?!”

“Not Jace grinning like he just won the world. What about US?!?”

“How am I supposed to recover from this betrayal?” 💔

“The way he’s holding her. The way he’s looking at her. The way he KISSES HER. I CAN’T DO THIS.”

Twitter/X Reactions: A Global Crisis

“Jace Velaryon getting married feels like my boyfriend just left me for another woman.”

“His smile. HIS SMILE. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO SMILE LIKE THAT FOR ME.”

“I feel like I’ve been personally victimized by this wedding video.”

“Not only did he marry her, but he looks like he’s thriving while doing it. This is actual pain.”

“Y’all saw the way he lifted her off the ground in that kiss? We lost, girls. We lost.”

TikTok Reaction Videos: Fangirls in Mourning

One girl dramatically closing her laptop: “This is my villain origin story.”

Another girl wrapped in a blanket, chugging wine: “How do you cope when the love of your life marries someone else?”

A group of fangirls watching the video in stunned silence before screaming: “NOOOOOO!”

Someone crying into a Jace Velaryon fan poster: “He was supposed to be OUR husband!”

💔 The Ultimate Heartbreak: Jace’s Wedding Reception Photos

If the wedding video wasn’t enough, the reception photos sent fangirls straight into their graves.

• Jace pulling you into his lap during dinner, his nose nuzzling into your neck.

• Jace kissing your hand with a lovesick expression, completely mesmerized by you.

• Jace dipping you low on the dance floor, his forehead pressed against yours.

• Jace grinning like a fool as you fed him a piece of wedding cake.

• Jace whispering something in your ear that had you laughing, his hand possessively gripping your thigh.

At this point, some fangirls uninstalled social media, some sobbed into their pillows, and some stared at their screens in mute devastation.

The Final Blow: Jace’s Response to the Fangirl Meltdown

Just when the internet was suffocating in despair, Jace himself responded:

@JacaerysVelaryon: “She’s my everything. Hope you all find someone who makes you feel this way someday. 💙”

And just like that, he destroyed whatever hope his fangirls had left.

When You And Jace Posted About Your Pregnancy.

Jace’s fangirls were NOT okay.

The second the post dropped, absolute hysteria erupted across the internet.

The photo? Devastating.

Jace stood behind you, both hands wrapped around your very prominent baby bump, his head tucked against your neck. His smile? Radiant. Proud. Smug. But the next slide? That was the real fatal blow.

An ultrasound.

Three. Embryoss

The caption? Gentle, but absolutely lethal.

“A family of five… and we couldn’t be happier.”

And then—the chaos began.

“THREE??? NOT ONE. NOT TWO. BUT THREE BABIES????”

“I just dropped to my knees in the middle of a grocery store.”

“Oh my god, we lost. Not only is she pregnant, but she’s having THREE of his kids. This is a massacre.”

“I need a support group immediately.”

Some fangirls went into pure denial mode:

“No. This isn’t real. It’s a prank. HAHA, right? Right?”

“I refuse to accept this. The ultrasound is AI-generated. FAKE NEWS.”

“Maybe it’s for a movie? A promotional stunt? PLEASE, SOMEONE, TELL ME THIS IS FAKE.”

Others…? Full breakdowns.

“I JUST KNOW THOSE BABIES ARE GOING TO BE BEAUTIFUL AND IT HURTS.”

“She really secured the bloodline… Three kids… She made sure she was LOCKED IN.”

“I can’t even be mad, she did what needed to be done.”

“This is the equivalent of getting blown off the battlefield. We fought hard, ladies, but we were defeated.”

The fan edits? Exploding. The hashtags? Trending worldwide.

Within minutes, #JaceTripletBombshell was dominating social media. People were analyzing the ultrasound, dissecting Jace’s body language in the photo, and crying over the fact that he had officially left the fangirl market… forever.

Jace Velaryon had just ended his fangirls in one post.

When You And Jace Posted About Your Triplets Arrival.

📸: Jace Velaryon Instagram Post

— A photo of you in a hospital bed, looking absolutely exhausted but glowing, cradling three tiny newborns. Jace is beside you, full-on crying, his face buried in your shoulder while holding one of the babies.

The Caption?

“Our greatest adventure yet. Welcome to the world, my little dragons. ❤️🔥”

And with that, the internet broke.

Jace’s Fangirls:

“I woke up thinking it was going to be a good day… and now I find out HE HAS THREE CHILDREN?!”

“FIRST, THE ENGAGEMENT. THEN, THE WEDDING. AND NOW TRIPLETS? JACE, GIVE US TIME TO HEAL.”

“WHY DOES HE LOOK SO CUTE CRYING??? I SHOULD BE THE ONE CRYING.”

“Do you guys think there’s still a chance? Like maybe in another life?”

“His SPERM WORKS FAST, WTF.”

“My man didn’t just get stolen… HE WAS MULTIPLIED.”

“I just know he sings lullabies to those babies. I CAN’T DO THIS TODAY.”

Your Fanboys:

“BRO I WAS STILL GETTING OVER THE WEDDING, WHAT IS THIS?”

“I’m so happy for her but also so deeply in pain.”

“Not only did she marry Jace, but she gave him THREE CHILDREN?? I AM SHATTERED.”

“Triplets. She really said, ‘Here’s a family in one go.’”

“Jace is crying, I’m crying, we’re all crying.”

“She’s really in her MILF era now… I can’t keep up.”

The General Public Watching the Chaos Unfold:

“This is the biggest internet heartbreak since Zayn left One Direction.”

“We lost him, y’all. Jace Velaryon is officially a father of THREE.”

“WHO LET THIS HAPPEN?!”

“Triple the babies, triple the heartbreak for the fandom.”

Meanwhile, Jace? He’s still sniffling, rocking one of the babies in his arms, looking at his phone and shaking his head at the absolute meltdown in his comment section.

“Damn… they’re really taking this hard, huh?” he murmurs, wiping his tears while kissing your forehead.

You glance at his screen, seeing thousands of devastated comments. Smirking, you whisper:

“Told you they weren’t ready.”

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

[wrioreid]

| Valentine's Day | spencer reid x reader

You and Spencer have plans to celebrate your first Valentine's Day together.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst?, indefinite season, some references to the series, without a definite pronoun I think?, lots of rambling.

Author's note: Hello, happy Valentine's Day! The day is literally over, but I only managed to post now :c I really wanted to write something involving my pookie and rewatching some episodes I had some ideas to put in the fanfic. Sorry if any part was confusing or doesn't make sense, I swear I tried!! Anyway, I hope it's fun to read!

The simple drops of icy water that fell calmly from the tree branches contrasted completely with the warm feeling emanating from the couples walking around there. Couples, lovers, families, friends. The street was full of people who were overflowing with love for each other, and you watched them solemnly while leaning your back against the icy wall of some random store. Not even a morning of persistent rain and unpleasantly below-par temperatures could spoil the romantic atmosphere and prevent people from loving each other.

It was February 14th, Valentine's Day. Or rather, your first Valentine's Day with someone. It was late afternoon and the rain had stopped, leaving only small drops of water as a reminder. The temperature continued, but nothing that good layers of clothing and a warm love couldn't solve.

You were waiting for Spencer. You had started dating the previous year, after February, so this was the first time you would celebrate this day together. In fact, neither of them cared about the date. You could even hear his skeptical voice again, talking about how this celebration made no sense and that it stopped being a proof of unconditional love a long time ago. On the other hand, you had never cared about the date because you had never had someone special enough to show that you were still made of love. Now that you had someone, you wanted to make the date unique.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile, remembering how Spencer looked when you answered him saying that you had the desire to experience the magic of the day at least once. Not shocked, not surprised, but hopeful. The “Me too” that he whispered uncertainly like a secret being eternally kept in your mind. After that day, you started planning how you would spend the celebration, the millions of colored papers full of ideas - and dreams - scattered on the floor of his house being a warm memory in your mind.

But even though the plans were set a few good weeks ago, you - and neither he - could control your nervousness when today finally arrived. Even when you were walking together a few hours ago - him accompanying you to your house as he always did at least once a week - you couldn't hold a decent conversation. There was barely a goodbye, just you running inside the house to get ready and him running to his house to do the same. Now there you were, playing with a small puddle of water in front of you with the boot you had specially chosen while you waited for Spencer to arrive.

It wasn't like him to be late at all, and it was starting to get difficult to control your anxiety. Maybe he gave up. Maybe he realized it was something silly and irrational to celebrate. There were millions of thoughts battling against the small memory of the genuine smile he let out every time he read the post-its with the ideas for the long-awaited day.

Despite his confession when the subject came up, you had never actually talked about Valentine's Day before, much less if he had ever celebrated it. You knew that Spencer had already been in relationships with a few other people before, but you deduced that he had never celebrated the day, probably because he let reason take over, as always. However, deep down, you couldn't help but think that it was because he never allowed himself to celebrate, the idea that he was incapable of being loved rooted in his mind.

You felt pain in your heart, almost like a heart attack, when your relationship grew deeper and you would notice with each encounter these small - big - scratches that he had on his soul. Someone who would like to be seen as normal, to be perceived as someone capable of loving and being loved.

So, you take a deep breath and let the bad thoughts go away. Deep down, this is also his wish, and you accept this fact. You push yourself away from the wall, determined to find a better and more visible spot to make it easier for him. However, you didn't count on finding him standing in front of you when you stopped looking at the floor. And damn, he looked stunning.

His soft and tidy hair, his untidy white t-shirt, the wine-colored cardigan on top showing off his crooked black tie, his slightly wrinkled dress pants quickly revealing the pair of mismatched socks. All of this being soaked up by the dark gray overcoat and the purple scarf. There was literally nothing different about his style, but at the same time there was everything. Maybe it wasn't anything different physically, but whatever it was, was enough to make the thoughts that tormented you before seem like nothing more than a small fraction of an unknown nightmare now.

Spencer clears his throat, trying to bring your attention back to the real world. You can't tell if he's blushing because of the cold or because he's been stared at so intensely, but either way, it's cute. "Sorry I'm late," he says quietly, even though no one else can hear.

"It's okay, we'll still be a few minutes early." You smile playfully and awkwardly stand next to him, ready to go to the first attraction of the day. After millions of desires were buried by a job that took up too much of your time, the final decision was a traditional Valentine's Day schedule so that you could enjoy all the romantic experiences that couples usually have - as much as possible. The first stop would be at a small local theater to watch Romeo and Juliet. Afterwards, you would enjoy a beautiful romantic dinner at a special place, and by that you mean that you would have dinner at Spencer's house. And then, he would walk you home. It sounds simple, but it was more than perfect.

Despite your movement, Reid doesn't move. He looks at you with a tight-lipped smile as he unrolls a black and white fabric from his messenger bag. You hadn't realized it was there and before you know it, he's lovingly wrapping the scarf around your neck.

"I knew you'd forget," he whispers, smiling like a child who's been naughty. You use the scarf as a shield to hide your flushed cheeks, starting to walk quickly after whispering a thank you. The smell of freshly washed clothes with a hint of fresh vanilla is the only thing you can smell now, intoxicating you like a drink.

However, it's not enough to make you not notice the awkward silence between you. You've known each other for a long time and talk a lot, but the idea of ​​something new, a unique - and secret, in a way - celebration between the two of you was too much for both. You snuggle even closer into the scarf and slide your hand closer to his, your pinkies touching. You notice him looking at you from the corner of his eye, a look full of secrets for the others, but not for you. Calmly, he intertwines his fingers with yours, you now walking hand in hand and both of you smiling foolishly behind the scarf.

The play's performance was interesting, but it was hard to concentrate on it while Spencer made several dissatisfied expressions beside you. "It's almost revolting how a play about young love, family rivalry and lack of communication turned into a mere sad story about love at first sight. And I haven't even talked about the imaginary balcony yet!" It was the last thing he said after you left the theater and started walking towards his apartment, distractedly engaging in other matters.

“You can’t deny it, Spence,” you laugh out loud, smiling at his pouting face. “Love moves worlds!”

“It changes realities, that’s what it does,” he mutters, looking irritated, but a playful smile plays on his lips. “A tribute to a bishop who went against an emperor turned into a celebration of love with an exchange of gifts and declarations just because they decided to combine love and romance! And it makes much more sense for the celebration to exist because this is the first day of mating for birds. It’s the order of life!”

“Of course, it makes much more sense for men to leave love messages on their loved ones’ doors because the birds are procreating,” you giggle. “I think I’m talking to the reincarnation of Claudius II and I didn’t know it.” You joke, having even more fun when you notice Spencer pondering his words for a few moments, a furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Technically, men who have nothing to lose are better at war than those who have love,” he pauses, now speaking again with a mischievous smile, “For example, I worked much better before I met you.”

You stop walking, shock written all over your face as you stare at him in disbelief. Spencer laughs, stretching one of his hands to intertwine them. He gently kisses the top of your hand. “Contrary to statistics and facts, I have been working better since we met and you know that very well,” he whispers, still with your hand close to his mouth, his lips brushing against your skin with each movement. You turn your face away, still angry, but taking the opportunity to control the immense urge to kiss him.

However, the whole act ends when you feel something different in your hand - the same one he was holding until just now. You turn your head quickly only to notice the beautiful red rose that magically rested in your hand, its scent so present that even from that distance you could smell it. Paralyzed, you stare at Spencer, mouth open, not knowing what to do. He stares back at you with a smile from ear to ear, his nose red from the cold.

“As someone told me the other day,” he says calmly and amusedly, “It’s worth ignoring the hype, the advertising and the high prices for someone special.”

You can barely react. Twirling the rose between your thumb and index finger, the only thing you can do is control the tears that are welling up in your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve received a flower so full of feelings from someone. A single, simple flower, but it was worth more than an entire field. Spencer calmly waits for you to recover, tenderness sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” you manage to whisper, hugging the flower gently so as not to ruin it or hurt yourself, despite your clothes. “H-How? Since when?”

He shrugs, reaching for your hand again and intertwining it with his, putting both in the pocket of his overcoat as he walks on again. “A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets… and he always has tricks up his sleeve.” He lets a sentence hang in the air, more mysterious than it should be. You stare at him, waiting for him to continue, but you only get a pat on the hand.

The rest of the way was calm and quiet, but comfortable enough for you to process everything, your eyes never leaving the delicate flower resting on your chest. When you arrive at the apartment, you can't help but notice how much - more than ever - this place made you feel like home.

A small smile escapes your lips as Spencer offers to help you remove and put away your coat and scarf. He removes his own scarf and coat as well and offers to put your rose in a container of water so it doesn't die. You hand it to him and as he disappears into the kitchen, you wander through the rows and rows of books, stopping when you notice that the chess pieces were not on the usual table, the moonlight coming through the window and illuminating only the chess board.

"I couldn't think of a better place," you hear Spencer say before looking in your direction, noticing the beautiful vase with several roses that he held in one hand and the tablecloth that he held in the other. He lovingly hands you the jar, smiling softly “I tried to put them all in my bag, but it was a bad idea, so they were waiting for you” he laughs embarrassedly as he arranges the tablecloth on the table.

You smile from ear to ear, enchanted by the beauty of the flowers, and place the vase in the center of the table so you can help him set up the rest of the romantic dinner. When everything was finished, you stop for a few moments to appreciate it and can't help but smile when your gaze lingers between the two chairs. As your relationship with Spencer deepened, a second chair began to appear frequently at the chess table, a sweet reminder of all the times you played there - and that, now, was even part of the scenery in his apartment -.

You sit there, smiling amusedly when Spencer reappears with a lit candle in his hand. "Waiter, please" you joke. He looks at you with arched eyebrows, carefully placing the candle next to the flowers. "On average, more than 7,000 candle fires happen here in the country each year".

You laugh nasally, fascinated by the moment "Thank you, Spence… I don't even know what to say. Everything is so… right, so romantic".

“It’s the least I could do and… I actually wish I had cooked, but time…” he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“It’s perfect, seriously. Next time we’ll cook together and you’ll see my culinary skills,” you say, making a silly smile appear on his face as he nods positively.

You eat and talk calmly for a long time, enjoying each other’s company. When darkness already dominates the streets, you realize it’s time to end the night. After helping Spencer put things back in their proper places, you pause in the middle of the room on your way out, pondering what to do. It was still Valentine’s Day and you hadn’t kissed.

However, in these last moments, Spencer seemed more spaced out and lost in his own thoughts, probably overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. You feel bad for a moment, wondering if you hadn’t forced it too much with him. So, you choose to quickly grab your flowers and your coat, your little goodbye speech already on the tip of your tongue.

“Wait,” Spencer, who was standing there watching you get ready, spoke hurriedly and, after making sure you weren’t leaving yet, disappeared into his room, returning moments later hugging an object to his chest. He walked until he was close to you, but never stopped looking at what he had in his arms. Looking closely now, you noticed that it was a somewhat old book, with some obvious marks on the cover and spine.

Spencer opened and closed his mouth several times, but unable to say anything, he just handed the book to you. Parlement of Foules was printed in large letters.

“T-This is considered the first Valentine’s Day poem,” he said uncertainly, his tone lower than normal, as if he wasn’t talking to you. “For this was on St. Valentine’s Day, when every fowl comes there his mate to take… is a 700-line poem that follows the tradition of dream vision poetry, a medieval literary style, and Chaucer uses it to discuss romantic love and freedom of choice… my mother read it to me when I was a child” he finishes in a whisper so low that you doubt if you heard it right. You press the book against your fingers, understanding the weight that it implied.

Spencer bites his lip, but resumes speaking, now with a more confident tone “It was a poem that stuck in my memory, more than any other and… given today’s date I would like it… to become important to you too. It’s the second copy my mother had in case something happened to the first one… but nothing ever happened and well… one copy is enough for me” he smiles embarrassedly, scratching the back of his neck “I-I left some notes throughout the book, too, so you would always feel accompanied while reading and… well, know my opinions about it”

“Couldn’t you read it to me too?” The question escapes your lips, your eyes glazed over the book as you caress the cover with interest.

Spencer is taken aback by the question, but a small smile plays on his lips. “I could too, of course” he paused again, now looking at you expectantly “There’s one more thing in there…”

You press your lips together and stare at him. Passion, surprise, affection… you felt so many things in that moment that not even the cold wind outside could cool the warmth that permeates your heart. You delicately open the book, noticing a writing on the title page. It was in pencil, and the marks from previous attempts were still there as if they were telling you a secret, but they didn’t get in the way of reading the large, hurried letters.

You can only teach a child to love by loving them. Johann Goethe, From your Spencer

A small drop falls onto the page, briefly staining the paper. You then realize that tears are streaming down your face, even though a tender smile has not left your lips. Spencer comes even closer, taking the book from your hand so he can hold it in his. With his other hand, he slowly passes it over your face, wiping away the small drops that insisted on running down.

“The whole discussion of the poem revolves around love… whether people are destined to be together or whether they have the right to choose, whether by passion, affinity or social conventions.” He speaks delicately, never taking his eyes off you. “Love is everyone’s final destiny, but it is a complex, free and uncertain process that, honestly, is still the action of hormones and neurotransmitters…” He bites his lips, quickly looking away to look at you again, determined. “But even so, even though it is not destiny… I firmly believe and I am more than happy to know that I made all the correct choices that led us to meeting.”

Honestly, fuck it. You put your hands around his face, cradling him, and bring him closer to you. Your lips touch gently, and you can't focus on anything else. Spencer timidly holds your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Delicately, he starts to run his hands over your body as if he were appreciating a work of art until he reaches your face, where he caresses the side of your cheek with one hand and pulls you even closer with the other - if that's possible -. You separate from the kiss panting, but remain close, your foreheads touching. Spencer calmly places a tender kiss on your nose, then your forehead and, finally, on the top of your head, enjoying every second.

When you look at each other again, the only thing you can whisper are several "Thank yous". He smiles lovingly, still caressing your face.

“I don’t even know how to thank you, Spence,” you whisper. “You gave me so much today, with so much love, so much dedication… and I only gave you a meager little letter with messages that you surely already knew… I really don’t know how to repay you.”

His smile widens and when he answers, you feel like you’ve finally found your place. “Nothing could surpass the happiness your letter brought me, love, there’s nothing you can repay. However, it would make me even happier if you slept here…”

Author's note 2: Hello there! If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I'm also on c.ai with the same user @/wrioreid, but the process of making the bots is going veryyy slowly.

[leggerefiore]

Can I request how the dead inside trio (fuck it, giovanni too) would prepare for valentines? I have a deep craving for sweet old men 🙏❤️❤️

since cy is from sinnoh and gio is from kanto, Valentine's is a bit different over there... I tried

cw: Valentine's Day fluff,

characters: Nanu, Larry, Cyrus, Giovanni

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 He really had not an urge to do anything for Valentine’s Day… The day simply held nothing positive for him. Even with a partner, he felt it useless to engage in something so corporate for his lover. They can get gifts for each other any day of the year – Why fixate on a specific date? Even so, despite his disinterest, Acerola seemed insistent. The girl babbled to him about how important it is to show he cares. While he wanted to roll his eyes and ignore her words, those big eyes made him reconsider. Honestly, he hated that he simply could not be mean to her. So, he found himself walking off and working on plans.

🌑 Chocolates were easy enough to obtain as they were being sold literally anywhere. He cared not for specifics, so he just grabbed whatever seemed the nicest. Flowers… Well, being connected to a fertility deity has its benefits every so often. Tapu Bulu actually was ecstatic to see him, so a request for some flowers was answered with a familiar white species. Nanu grumbled, recognising them. Well, he could not exactly complain without risking angering a capricious deity, so he took them. Lastly, a date… He sighed. Ula'Ula was certainly scenic and seen as a romantic place to visit, but living there ruined that image in his mind. What was there to do? Every restaurant was booked, and the Malie Garden would be absolutely packed. There had to be a place with some privacy…

🌑 The black sands of the beach on Route 14 frequently caught the eyes of many visitors, but the ruined store tended to ward them off. No one wanted to piss off a guardian deity, really. Nanu knew the pokemon would not care too much for you both lingering on its sacred land. The waves lapped at the shore as he glanced at you. It was not exactly the most romantic activity, but Nanu found himself fine with it. You leaned against him as he grasped the wrapped chocolates. The flowers were a success when he gifted to them earlier. Your comment about it being a wedding bouquet did make him swallow his heart. He sighed as the setting sun shined on the horizon. Handing off the chocolates, he grasped your hand. “… Happy Valentine's Day,” his voice was a low mumble, still not really interested in the holiday, “Sorry for the shitty date—” You kissing him cut him off. Apparently, you quite enjoyed his attempt at romance.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 The holiday held little meaning to the businessman. While most of his coworkers rushed to get off and make plans for it, Larry simply worked on the extra workload that his boss seemed to enjoy dumping on him. Though, his plans for that year had a wrench in them. Rika lingered above his desk, watching him curiously. He could not tell what was on the woman's mind. Well, until she finally asked him what his plans were with his partner. He blinked. A simple answer of nothing apparently offended her. A hand came down on his desk as she insisted he do something, even offering to cover his work. It caught him off-guard. An attempt to reject the offer was met with the green-haired woman growing more demanding. She even involved Hassel, who seemed horrified at Larry's actions. He was basically chased out of the office.

🍙 So, he sighed. It seemed that this was happening. Many years had passed since he last put any energy into Valentine’s Day. He popped into a corner store to pick up a box of chocolates and a card. He sighed. Flowers were also a smart idea, but… There was no way to get any this late into the game. He opted to just focus on trying to get a table at a restaurant. Most had to be completely booked out, but the Treasure Eatery was more than happy to accommodate him. In fact, they were more shocked than anything that he called ahead to reserve anything since they usually kept a spot open just for him. He was not overly sure how that made him feel. A quick call to you led to an agreement to meet him there. There was a momentary debate of whether he should change clothes, but he opted against it.

🍙 You joining him at the table led to an awkward moment of silence as he presented the card and chocolates with little fanfare. There was a moment of bewilderment towards the actions, but you took the chocolates nonetheless. The restaurant was packed with couples, clearly trying to have a romantic evening. Larry felt completely out of his element. The card was a simple one with an Oricorio on it saying something, making one's heart dance like one. Your smile made his cheeks burn. He did not it expect you to actually enjoy it. “Happy Valentine's Day…” his voice was careful, “I apologise if this is not adequate enough—” You leaning in for a kiss silenced him. An assurance that this was enough made him relax. The evening went far better than he expected.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ The Galactic Boss barely had noticed the holiday approaching. He simply felt no need to keep up with such trivial things while he was working on his plans. However, he did notice that his grunts were requesting time off while Mars seemed to babble about something that he did not care to listen to. His frustration was piling due to this, but he was caught off-guard at the red-head entering his office and asking him what he was doing for the holiday since he was apparently in a relationship. He bit his tongue. The urge to tell her off about prying into his personal life was interrupted by him blinking. His… relationship. Right, this was the time for women to give gifts to the important people in their lives. He groaned. Suddenly, he realised that he needed to take off from work at a reasonable time. Upsetting you was the last thing that he wanted to do.

☄️ While it was not typical for men to do anything, he felt the urge to do something to make up for any possible distress. A simple reservation at a restaurant seemed sufficient enough, but he still felt worried at the thought of failing to please you. So, he found himself trailing to a florist when he managed to finally free himself from work. Flowers were romantic enough, were they not? He struggled to pick any due to his uncertainty. The clerk seemed to take pity on him – the typical rose bouquet felt too common and apathetic for him. Yet, somehow, a certain kind of flower caught his eye. A purchase was made, and he headed home. This seemed more than enough to make up for any possible upset.

☄️ Unsurprisingly, he was greeted by chocolates when he came home. They were homemade and shaped by like the various forms of Rotom. He felt shocked by your dedication and relieved that he had done so much in return. The offer of dinner seemed to perk you up even more. He had booked the nicest restaurant in the area, after all. Though, his surprise of a sunflower bouquet also shocked you. The flowers gently brought a delicate warmth with their presence. You thanked him for such a thoughtful gift. While you held the bouquet to yourself, he opted to speak. “Happy Valentine's Day…” his voice was low and deep, “I apologise for being home so late.” Your hug and a peck to his cheek calmed him. As long as you were happy.

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 Valentine's Day… Giovanni would often receive many gifts. He certainly was a desired man, after all. Honestly, he was not the biggest fan of chocolates, but the attention fed his ego just right. Now, he was fully aware the holiday was celebrated differently all over. In Kanto, it was a time for women to gift chocolates to the men in their life. In somewhere like, say, Unova or Kalos, though, it was a mutual holiday with more expectation on the man. He felt himself debating whether he should obligate his partner like what they would expect from their culture… Really, he supposed it would be something different from the typical day of being showered in gifts from those desperate for his attention.

🟥 Chocolates were the typical gift for the holiday. He found himself in a premier chocolatier, debating just what his partner may enjoy. A variety seemed best. The price was certainly steep, but it was not as if he failed to have money to throw around. The chocolates were delicately wrapped in a scarlet box as he pondered what was next. Flowers were a common gift overseas. Roses, specifically. He quite found the idea of bouquet red roses enchanting. A stop at a florist provided his next gift. The flowers drove a high price again, but he once again found himself apathetic. Lastly, a location. A simple call to a preferred restaurant got him a private room that evening without question. Honestly, it was easy enough.

🟥 He had his driver bring you to him as he waited at the restaurant. His attire was far nicer than his typical suit. You were shocked as you stepped out of the car. A box of chocolates was in your hands. An exchange was made as you handed off your gifts for one another. Your reaction to the expensive chocolates left him smug. Yours for him were clearly homemade. He would appreciate the dedication. The shapes of a rocket and Persians left him entertained at least. Your arm was interlocked with his as he led you to the reserved area of the restaurant. “Happy Valentine's Day,” his voice was confident and proud, “… I have more planned for this evening.” Your reaction to that had him chuckle. He felt that he enjoyed celebrating like this all the same.

[gojomyshayla]

(A Non-Sorcerer AU Gojo x Studious Reader Fanfic)

For more gojo content click masterlist

Summary :Gojo Satoru is the most annoying flirt in your university. You, the top student, have no time for distractions. Unfortunately, Gojo loves being your biggest distraction—until a bet and an accidental kiss change everything.

_________________________________________

The Walking Disaster Named Gojo Satoru

_____________________________

Your life was supposed to be simple.

Go to class. Take notes. Study hard. Get good grades. Graduate with honors.

It was a foolproof plan—until Gojo Satoru ruined it.

Tall, annoyingly handsome, and with an ego bigger than your entire textbook collection, Gojo was the human equivalent of a problem set you didn’t want to solve.

And the worst part? He was actually smart.

If he used even 1% of his brainpower, he’d be at the top with you. But no—he chose to waste it all on annoying you.

Like today.

You were peacefully studying in the library when—

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You sighed. “Go away, Satoru.”

“No can do.” He dramatically pulled out the chair across from you. “I missed you.”

You didn’t even look up. “We have class together every morning.”

“I know,” he said, propping his chin on his hand. “But a whole two hours without you? Agony.”

You slammed your book shut. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Nah.” He stretched lazily. “I have you for that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You what?”

“You’re smart. If I hang around you long enough, osmosis should do its thing.”

“That’s not how it works.”

He smirked. “Are you sure? Because I definitely feel smarter when I’m around you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Your heart says otherwise.”

“I will throw this book at you.”

He grinned. “And I’d still call you beautiful.”

You groaned. Why was he like this?!

After weeks of Gojo-induced suffering, Geto (his best friend and your accidental therapist) finally made a suggestion.

“If he’s annoying you that much,” he said, “why don’t you make a bet?”

That’s how you found yourself standing in front of Gojo with an offer he couldn’t refuse.

“If you can go a whole week without flirting,” you said, “I’ll treat you to that expensive café you like.”

Gojo perked up. “Oh? And if I lose?”

“You leave me alone for the rest of the semester.”

A moment of silence. Then—

He smirked.

“Deal.”

Day 1:

You fully expected Gojo to crack within five minutes.

But when you walked into class, he just… nodded at you.

No wink. No comment. Not even a smirk.

Suspicious.

The whole day passed without a single cheesy pickup line. It was unsettling.

Day 2:

Still no flirting. But now? He looked miserable.

At lunch, he dramatically slumped over the table. “I feel like I’m dying.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Geto said.

Gojo groaned. “I just miss her.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m literally right here.”

“No, I mean…” He waved his hand vaguely. “I miss flirting with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

He sighed. “I know.”

Day 3:

Gojo almost cracked.

“Hey, can you pass me that—” He stopped mid-sentence, visibly struggling.

You smirked. “That… what?”

He clenched his fists. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“You were about to say something flirty, weren’t you?”

“No!”

“You so were.”

He pouted. “This is torture.”

Day 5:

Gojo was a mess.

By the time you found him in the library, head down and suffering, you almost felt bad.

“Satoru,” you sighed. “You know you don’t have to keep doing this, right?”

He lifted his head. “But then I lose.”

“You look miserable.”

“I just—I like making you smile. I like making you roll your eyes at me. I like—” He hesitated. “—being around you.”

Your face felt hot.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Do you miss me too?”

“…No.”

“You hesitated!”

You smacked him with your book. “Shut up.”

---

After a few days , things got more intense You and Gojo often bickered, but this? This was next level.

“You stole my pen!”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “How dare you accuse me of such a crime?!”

You pointed at the pen in his hand. “That’s my pen, you idiot.”

Gojo smirked. “Finders keepers.”

You lunged for it. “Give it back!”

“Make me.”

Bad idea.

Because the second you grabbed his wrist, he tripped. And in the worst, most cliché way possible—

He fell. Right on top of you.

Lips brushing.

Eyes wide.

Time stopped.

Gojo’s face turned red. “Uh—”

You pushed him off. “Y-YOU IDIOT!”

He blinked, still dazed. Then—

He grinned.

“Ohhh,” he drawled. “So that’s what you wanted?”

You threw a book at him.

---

Despite everything, Gojo never actually confessed.

So one day, you decided to take control.

“Satoru.”

He perked up. “Yeah?”

You took a deep breath. “If I asked you out right now, what would you say?”

His sunglasses nearly fell off his face.

He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

“I—wha—HUH?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yes or no?”

His brain short-circuited.

“YES—WAIT—ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

He gasped. “You’re flirting with me?”

You smirked. “Guess I learned from the best.”

Gojo blinked. Then, suddenly, he grinned.

“Oh, you’re so in for it now.”

[craziertogether]

thinking about mike & will

first off happy valentine’s day! now onto another yap session. i sometimes find myself wondering why i’m so obsessed with byler. it might be because i have a tendency to like tragic queer couples (aot, orv, & bbm) or maybe bc i love the yearner trope. but honestly the thing that gets me about byler is probably because growing up with them i struggled with the same things they did (internalized homophobia & hiding my sexuality) it wasn’t until literally so recently that i started to find myself accepting my own queer attraction.

growing up seeing that on TV with these two characters who’s love is beyond any queer relationship on TV. It’s gut wrenching with just the right amount of angst that doesn’t make me wanna choke myself but enough that it’s realistic and raw. they never sexualized or made it seem shameful that queer love exists, and with that they’ve built up a love that grew so beautifully from the very first moment. they showed us that this relationships was incredibly deep, it started that day in kindergarten when mike asked will to be his friend and they’ve been inseparable since. they started as the outcasts and sought each other out and others who might’ve felt as lonely as they did. and yet their bond out ranks theirs with dustin and lucas, why? because it just does, because they found each other, not by “dumb luck or fate” but by choosing the other person to be their friend. choosing them to be in their party. mike choosing to stay/stand by will even when EVERYONE else chose to leave. mike’s love/care for will is so deep that it’s comparable to how his own mother values him, them being the only ones to believe that he was alive with NO evidence and actually having evidence to disprove his life, but mike had even less than joyce. like that is the kind of love that comes after years of marriage/familial bonds, the intuition of how the other is/are feeling.

this love doesn’t fade even though the seasons continue. i think we tend to really feel like mike’s character declined because he abandoned his friends as a means to hide his sexuality, but how is that he somehow still is most in tune with will even through all that. of course he’s already made the mistake and it’s too late to undo what has been done, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. by trying save his relationship with will in season 3/4, it’s almost like he’s trying to find a secret exit within the horrible walls he built around himself. he wants nothing more than to hide his secret from everyone and yet he’s so bad at it, not because will or men are his kryptonite or anything like that. but because it’s practically instinctual for him to choose will just like he did when he was a kid. it’s not like he doesn’t care about anyone else, but that love and care he has for those around him will never compare to they love he has for will because he will always choose and love will differently than anyone else. (again see his fights with EL, lucas, dustin, max, nancy, his parents, hopper). it’s shown to us that he becomes an asshole to them all at some point but it’s insane that we never see him actually apologize to any of them on screen the way that we see him do it with will. the amount of screen time and emphasis they put onto their relationship is not something you do for a pair of friends. it’s not, and somehow every moment they share is so much more intimate than even my favorite couples in the show but somehow it’s still going over the GA’s head. their moments are tender and intimate without sexual/romantic intimacy and somehow they outdo all the romance we DO see in screen. (let me say tho that the endgame couples obviously have love that i admire and love so much too) but byler’s is so incredibly unique and special in way that we haven’t seen in another parts of the show. (obviously parallels exist but those parallels aren’t identical).

on top of everything that we know and see, i stated before how this show will change everything, but all of this build up and once it’s finally confirmed and shown to the GA. it will be a happy, real, and raw love story that will be broadcast to millions. who, whether they want to admit it or not, it will show a story that is undeniably beautiful. a queer love story that isn’t cheesy (i love cheesy) or incredibly tragic (also love) but had time to buildup and grow with angst and painful moments but also tender and emotional moments that so many can relate to. seriously i’m having withdrawals, drop the trailer please.