#I'm good I'm fine I'm normal about their expressions

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Rose Recaps 2024 - Korea

Starting my list of favourite shows with Korea. They gave us so much angst, and some of them I still haven't fully been able to shake. Let's go.

The one with the existential dread

Love For Love's Sake

I was not ready. Not that I think there was a way I would be, but still. I was floored. It was an ambitious concept but executed pretty much flawlessly. If they had a bit more time, I think the world building could've benefited a little, cause there were parts that felt a bit rushed but overall the themes were well conveyed throughout. This show can be interpreted in a variety of ways, and one can take from it different things. For so much of this show I was filled with anxiety and sadness, but by the end the overall message of self love healed a small part of me. The visuals were strong and the actors did a wonderful job.

Favourite Moment:

Obvious perhaps, but no one can deny the beauty of this moment. Just the pure relief and joy I felt, made it one of my favourites of the year.

The one with all the yearning

The Time of Fever

I was so normal about this show. First let me just say, that I don't think of this show as a prequel. I know it is one, but I prefer to think of it as its own thing. This show drove me crazy. I suffered through it twice, and I kept finding new things that drove me insane. The yearning, the pining, the love these two have for each other that can only be rivalled by the fear they both share. Hotae is afraid of his feelings, because he can't understand them or can't accept them, but he also can't resist the pull. Donghee is afraid because he does understand, but he also knows what it means, so he needs to protect his friend from all the ugliness he himself has endured. And the actors just portrait these emotions so well. Truly some of the best acting I've seen this year. The camera work is outstanding, the framing always intentional and the lighting is good enough to break your heart.

Favourite Moment:

The heater between them??? Incredible. I'm still in awe of this whole scene. From the feeding of the orange slice to the kiss itself and their body language right to their expressions at the end. It was a flawless scene.

The one with all the trauma

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Every week I was filled with excitement and dread waiting for new episodes. It was a painful journey for them and for me. Such a raw depiction of how trauma follows you long after you left the place where you endured it behind you. Closure is such an overused word, because it always sounds like there's a switch you can flip, and you're fine. Like it's that simple. The way Dohoe carried all of the abuse with him, how he shaped his life around it unconsciously, all along believing he was healing himself, it was heartbreaking to watch. And JuYeong. The boy who waited. The boy who understood and gave him the space to heal. Time stopped for 12 years for both of them. But they have a lifetime left to heal together and find happiness in the simple act of loving and being loved by each other.

Favourite Moment:

The symbolism destroyed me. The cross, the wall, the confession. Masterful.

The one that wasn't like the others

Love In The Big City

I don't even know what to say any more. It was an amazing adaption. Stellar acting, great script, gorgeous visuals. It's messy and it all feels so real. Young is one of my favourite characters of all time, both the one from the book and the one from the series. I wanted to hug him and hit him over the head at several points. I did appreciate the bigger presence of the T-aras, it left me more hopeful than the novel. I'm still not over the break up though.

Favourite Moment:

The honesty, the unconditional acceptance. To watch Young experience it for the first time was overwhelming.

Honourable mention to Boys Be Brave that I adored. And the only reason is not in this list is because of the second couple. They needed more time, and even with the time they had I thought the writing of that storyline was a bit messy. But I loved the mains.

See you soon with Taiwan, maybe. 💜

[quinngefail]

I’m having a very very bad Christmas. Can you please tell me some sweet and fluffy chainshipping stuff? What do you think they’re doing for Christmas?

Well first off I'm sorry to hear, and I hope everything ends up alright :(

So uh even if it helps a lil bit, here's some Christmas things that came to mind! Absolutely putting a cut. Because it is Yap City down there 😩

So just to preface (and just really explain this in more depth for the first time), the way I'm writing them is with my timeline of the Bathroom Trap in October of 2004. The two eventually go back to their lives after being separately released from hospital care. They (Lawrence) do periodically get in contact with (Adam) one another, just to check in and all that… But as time goes on, they (Adam) stop answering each other's (Lawrence's) calls, and they completely drift apart. It's not until about a half a year passes (so June or July of 2005), when Lawrence happens to encounter Adam again, and it's immediately clear that things have gotten bad on Adam's end. Not that Lawrence isn't suffering himself, of course, but it's very apparent just how bad Adam is doing.

From there, they begin to shakily reconnect, and realize that they're the only people in the world who can ever truly understand the particular horror that they went through... And it slowly becomes clear that there is something still very much lingering between them. An ache, a desire, a yearn that has never left either of them since that day... Which brings only more to this difficult road they're already attempting to navigate.

...So with that established, I'm just gonna fast forward to December of 2005, where they've been together for a few months now, and have become close enough to want to celebrate the holidays together :)

(Quick note that Alison and Diana are physically out of the picture at this point in time, that's a whole other ramble for another time- in short, they got the fuck out of Saw City a good few months back, and are doing their own thing to recover from that day)

So WITH THAT ALL LAID OUT, here's some First Christmas headcanons:

First off, with Adam's dysfunctional ass family (whom he's also only sparingly talked to over the past seven-ish years), I just cannot imagine he's ever had a 'normal' Christmas. It "doesn't matter though", as he's declared for years now that he doesn't give two shits about this "Commercialized Crap Holiday for Brainwashed, Bible-Humping Idiots" ("The term is 'bible-thumping', Adam"). While initially he wears this attitude around Lawrence, he decides to just sorta ease up on it for now- especially after Lawrence expresses this simple, genuine want for the two of them to just have a nice celebration together.

Lawrence, meanwhile, has this lingering complication with the holiday from his upbringing- but he's definitely not at a stage where he's ready to get into all that with Adam. However, what's more important to him this year is just wanting to provide a nice Christmas for the both of them. He's really not fussy about all the 'Traditional Christmas Stuff™️' and genuinely just wants nothing more than a pleasant time with the person he cares so deeply for. Besides, it's only been a little over a year since the bathroom trap- and while things have gradually gotten easier since then, there's still a long way to go for the both of them. He knows that they both get stressed and overwhelmed rather easily, so he's more than fine with something that is just simple and laid back.

I think too, after he hears about Adam never having even one good Christmas, it's important for him to just. Provide that experience, y’know,

(And not in a WE NEED TO CONVERT YOU INTO LOVING CHRISTMAS 😤😤😤 sort of way lmao, it's more just like Hey it's that time of year where we take time to express love for one another, we just also happen to bring a tree into our house and cover it in decorations Iol. And I simply want to express love for you, while I happen to have a decorated tree in my house)

((Okay but speaking of trees I can fully imagine Lawrence being the type to have fake trees, but like dude my family has been doing the same for years lmao. I think we all just collectively got sick of the mess and I feel like he would be the same way HSJRJGK))

Anyway. Adam initially has the idea of putting together this collection of photos for Lawrence, as well as burning a CD for him with a very intentional selection of songs; both with the goal of just sorta expressing the things he struggles with actually saying to Lar. He has a very hard time with vulnerability, but finds it comes easier to him through art. However, it does not take long before a little voice in his head is hissing that it won't be enough for Lawrence, someone who he assumes is 'so accustomed' to 'high-class luxury'. This will be nothing compared to all that. Still, he goes through with taking photos of things he finds as captivating as Lawrence, and narrowing down a small selection of important songs that just make him think of Lar, their relationship, the difficult feelings Adam is grappling with, and anything between (he even tries to stay within that sappy shit Lawrence is so into, just to be extra sure that he'd like the music)... All while that critical voice in his head just grows louder and louder. Finally, a few days before Christmas, he has that breaking moment of like I CAN'T GIVE THESE TO HIM,

He scrambles to try and find a different gift- something big, fancy, and expensive- but quickly realizes that he cannot possibly afford anything that feels 'good enough' for Lawrence. This, of course, culminates on Christmas. But y’know before they do gifts and stuff, it is just a nice, quiet celebration- just staying in together, having a good dinner, and enjoying each other's company. Nothing too crazy or overstimulating, and more just romantic than anything. Like they got that low lighting, candles lit and shit, they got the mf Yule Log™️ on the TV of course with the instrumental Christmas tunes going, ALL THAT JAZZ

But uh when it's inevitably gift time, the very thing Adam had been dreading all evening, he begrudgingly hands over the photos and CD- but with about 50 million disclaimers over how I KNOW IT'S NOT MUCH, IT WAS A STUPID IDEA, I'M SORRY I COULDN'T DO MORE, YOU GOT ME ALL THIS STUFF BUT ALL I HAVE IS THIS FOR YOU, YOU CAN JUST THROW THEM OUT, ETC ETC ETC...

But obviously the gesture and intention behind them mean more than anything else here, and Lawrence is absolutely touched by it all. In fact, they could even listen to the CD right now, because one of the things Lawrence got him was a new Walkman 😊 !!

(Which like either the one Adam has is on its last legs and only works about half the time anymore, or he had to sell it among numerous other things to make ends meet during the time he and Lawrence weren't in contact post bathroom trap)

Adam loves it, of course, but the idea of listening to that CD with Lawrence definitely gets him all embarrassed lmao. But, after a bit, he relents- again, with the 50 million disclaimers of I MAY HAVE BEEN A LITTLE HIGH WHEN I PUT THIS TOGETHER (he wasn't), I'M SORRY IF IT SUCKS, I REALLY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING WITH INCLUDING THIS SONG (he knew). Lawrence assures him he won't laugh or judge or anything.

So with Adam's worry quelled just enough, they sit back on the couch and get close, share a set of earbuds, and listen to it together :)

(And y’know it would be fun to actually put that playlist together myself for the immersive experience HSJGK....)

And I just have the visual in my head of Adam, arms crossed over his chest, eyes squeezed shut, rapidly bouncing his leg, heart pounding out of his chest, just being like this sucks this sucks this sucks this sucks this sucks this sucks this sucks this sucks this sucks he hates this he hates this he hates this he hates this he hates this he hates this-

Lawrence, meanwhile,

THERE'S EVEN A FEW BEATLES SONGS IN THERE...... LIKE OOKAYYY, 🥰😭 (which y’know they may sound rather fucked with the both of them only getting one earbud, but THAT'S OKAY 🙌)

(💥 This has been a Beatles left/right sound channel mixing joke 💥)

But yes when the CD ends, Lar is over the moon lmao. Happily going on about how much he loves it, this is going in his car and he'll love listening to it again; and these photos must be framed and hung up as soon as possible- this one here especially is going in his office, immediately- while Adam sits there, just silently staring at him,, and feeling himself finally just relax.

(For now at least huhehghgh)

But of course, they share that very tender kiss and embrace. So all in all... It's a good night :)

So uh!! I got a bit fixated on just that whole moment here, but I hope you enjoy regardless hehehehh

And I hope you all had a nice Christmas yourself, if you celebrate!!

[elvenbeard]

"Y'know, wasn't sure you'd really be here like... if maybe I'd just imagined the last couple months, goin' fully delusional. All the way, 'til I saw you standing on the railing... And now you're here." "And I'm not goin' anywhere again. Promise."

poses: x

[lloydfrontera]

my biggest gripe with the manhwa rn is that they made javier more of an asshole than he is in the novel and then took away most of the scenes where we see him being kind and soft with others.

javier can be an ass, he is a brat and he's especially annoying when he's with lloyd, but above anything else he is kind and loyal and selfless and good. i cannot emphasize enough how good javier is. he's the kind of person who cannot see someone in trouble or danger and do nothing about it. he's the kind of person who would sacrifice his life for total strangers and no hope of any reward. he's the kind of person who can't even enjoy a lavish party without feeling guilty because he'd much rather help people in need with that money.

he's so fucking good, lloyd is a little annoyed by it because he keeps getting dragged into life-threatening situations because javier just won't stop helping people they don't even know. mind you, lloyd is also endeared by this and would not want him to change but god can it be frustrating in his endeavor to keep them both alive.

there's this particular scene that i just. i'm so sad it was cut. where javier is helping around the refugee camp, going without sleeping and eating so he can focus on helping as many people as possible and then he spots a little kid that got lost on his way back. so he decides to help him.

and he's so gentle with this kid.

Javier walked over to the kid and called him. The flustered boy looked up. Javier strove to put on a warm smile on his face. "Are you lost?" “...” The boy nodded, his eyes all wet. Javier carefully stroked the boy's head. "I think I can help you with that. Why don't you let me help find your tent?" suggested Javier. “...” The boy nodded again. "But why didn't you eat the food? It's going to get cold. Are you not hungry?" "I am… hungry," the boy finally said. But what he said next caught Javier by surprise. "But I won't eat it," said the boy. "Why not?" "My mother is hungrier." "Is that so?" "Yes." “...” Javier wondered why this kid came out to take the food when he had a mother. There must be a reason, he thought to himself. He held out his hand. "I will hold the tray for you." "..." "I won't spill it. I promise." "Okay..." Javier took the tray and wrapped the boy’s hand with his own.

like. god. javier is not a naturally warm person. he's very reserved and stoic and sometimes outright cold, but he still tries so hard with this kid. because he knows what it's like to be him. he knows what it's like to be a child and be scared and hungry and without a home. and he remembers how much it meant for a kind adult to reach out a hand to him and help. and he wants to be that to others too.

everything he does, he does because he genuinely believes it's the right thing to do and therefore his obligation. and even when it doesn't come naturally to him, like being warm and gentle to a child, he still tries his best to do so.

and like that wasn't enough, when they finally find the kid's mom, javier finds out she's blind. recently blinded actually. that she used all her strength to get her child to safety and now she has to depend on him to take care of them because she can't do it anymore. her blouse is smudged with porridge.

so javier kneels down and explains who he is, why he's there and that he wants to help. he lifts up a spoonful of food and slowly and carefully starts to feed her himself. she's a complete stranger and javier doesn't hesitate one second to do this for her.

this is who javier is!! this is who he is at his core!! he's kind and he's selfless and he's above all else good!!

if your audience can't imagine javier comforting a child, then you failed your audience. you missed the point of his character.

[sysig]

Tastes staticy (Patreon)

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[lesbianpikachu]

.

[potato-on-your-head]

Yes! And not only that, but it's also heavily implied that whatever family Fink did have was... not good. His lines about his mom's parenting style are played for laughs, and they're absolutely funny in the moment ("swimming's easy! I can teach him the same way my mom taught me. SWIM!" *drop-kicks the child*) ("My mom used to rock me to sleep. LIKE THIS! *swings a literal rock*). And yet, moments later, when they're addressed in a serious manner, you realize that Fink was actually confessing just how messed up his childhood was.

Right after the rock incident, he tells Roz, "Hey! I turned out just fine." That's the CLASSIC line that (cw child abuse) plenty of people whose parents hit them as a kid will say in response to how you, like, should not hit your kids. The fact that his mom threw him into water and said sink or swim and also got him to sleep in a forceful way is indicative of nature's harshness, yes... but it's also a metaphor for cruelty in real-life parenting. And boy does that resonate.

He reveals it all when Roz asks how he can tell a story about something he claims not to understand: love. Fink's body language shifts to both protective and vulnerable as he's all curled up. Then he admits, "Yeah, well, when you grow up without something... you spend a lot of time thinking about it." Okay, ouch. Major character motivation unlocked.

Once Roz powers down, Fink looks wistfully at her, leaves his comfy bed, and goes and settles in under her arm, curled up close to her with Brightbill above. It speaks volumes about how he admitted something and now finally has someone caring about him - and now that she's not awake, he's free to actually seek out the affection he wants without having to explain it away with a witty one-liner.

We don't get a lot of details. Fink definitely could've lost his family young. And however long he had his mom clearly damaged him and his worldview. Roz is the first one to care about him not just in a long time, but possibly ever. Which makes it all the more poignant when you see him helping raise Brightbill with things he never got.

The story Fink told Brightbill might not have even been something his mom told him. It might have been what Fink wished his mom had told him. A story he thought up late at night, imagining it being narrated by someone who loved him.

An aspect I highly admire about The Wild Robot is the manner they explore Fink’s implied trauma, when he helps Brightbill go to sleep with that story about a loving mother finding her son. Likely a story Fink’s mom shared with him as a child to help put the guy to sleep.

It’s never outright stated word for word, but God you can feel Fink’s underlying solitude, pain, and sadness throughout this film’s run time. Fink clearly lost his own mother, along with whatever other relatives, he had at a young age to nature’s harshness, leading to a selfish loner attitude, until Roz crashed into his life.

One moment that seriously stood out to me is before the winter storm slammed into their island Roz asked Fink about love and he says, “Dunno. I wouldn’t know anything about it…”, as he walked away with a crushed look on his face into the darker part of the forest. Going deep into his lowly nest curled up into a ball alone. It says so much, by doing very little dialogue, about Fink’s life he has led up to now.

Love it when movies have you read more in between the lines on scenes to get an answer.

[fluffylino]

pussy drunk minho

he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~

-contains mature themes

"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.

now that was a lie.

"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.

"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.

"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.

"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.

"deal"

"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.

the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.

if he could dom you. you could dom him.

his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."

so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.

"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.

minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.

and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.

a lie honestly.

his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.

it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.

.

.

the day one was fine.

he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.

day three was when you noticed him staring.

you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.

so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.

eyes locked onto your covered heat.

"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.

"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.

when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.

"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.

.

"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.

"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.

"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.

stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.

.

.

"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.

first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.

"are you gonna be a goo-"

"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.

"yes yes. now can i-"

"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.

"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.

"promise?"

"hmmmm"

you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.

"wh-"

his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.

inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.

using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.

a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.

"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.

"may i...please?"

you nodded. satisfied.

.

you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.

nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.

so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.

"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.

you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.

"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.

pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.

"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.

"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.

his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.

a muffled whimper escaping him.

"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.

"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.

lips swollen and red.

"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.

"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"

"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.

"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.

"c-come on kitty, make me cum"

you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.

a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.

nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.

small little whines leaving him at your taste.

"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.

"good k-kitty?"

"did so good for me"

.

.

"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"

"AHAH SO I WON-"

.

.

.

[cobraaah]

Hello yes,, another seb smut request :] I absolutely LOVEEDD the last fic u wrote and now I require more HGHDHFJF

Mabye like a really steamy makeout session with seb in his shop that ends up going further? But he has two tounges (///.//.///) so it's extra freakyyy,,

Preferably with a side of more degrading and breeding kink,, also, if your up for it,, maybe some oviposition?

Pairing•[Sebastian Solace x hybrid fishy! Gn reader?]

Warnings• 18+ No minors, but I'm not your mom so consume your own content, ovi kink, double tongue, double cock, breath play, breeding kink, blood, wounds?, not prof read

A/N• Okay, so, like, sorry for taking so long on this 😭 I've been so busy!! Anyway, I tried to make it gender neutral as possible. I'm also sorry for how short and bad this is. I really rushed it because I've been procrastinating on this. I also need to organize all my stuff on here as well. Flip. I also don't know why reader is a fish hybrid, I totally forgot what I was gonna do with that

Word count• 1.4K

Heavy pants ringed through your ears as you pushed open hell saving door fifty. Clutching your side blood staining your hand, a giant gash layed on your side. Labored breaths seethed out of your clenched teeth as you gripped onto your side, attempting to apply pressure and because it hurt like hell. With a prayer, the vent up ahead pushed open with a snicker lingering in it. It was your trusted friend, well more of your only friend here, Sebastian. The weird fishy hybrid eel thing. . you didn't really know exactly what DNA was in him, just that he was a weird hybrid thing that sold you items. Nothing more, nothing less.

Crawing through the vent with a hiss due to the new position of having to crawl, tail dragging behind you. Red drops from the gash beneath your hand, leaving a small trail in wake. A small gasp leaving your mouth as you stood up, heaving. Suddenly your vision getting hazy finally came to you, how much blood have you lost? Glancing down to your wound, your whole hand was dripping red. The only noise you could focus on was the soft dripping of the crimson droplets hitting the metal like floor, your ear fins fanned back uncomfortably.

Due to your carelessness and not being careful about the doors you went into, you've waltz into at least one of the "Good People's" doors, maybe a few too close encounters with Angler leaving scratches on you. Everything was too fuzzy to remember, or feel? Looking up you finally notice Sebastians worried facial expression, and when where you sat on top of this table? A uncomfortable groan left you as Sebastian tightly wrapped bandages around your exposed wound. When did he take off my diving gear? Your eyebrows furrowed in glazed confusion, what was even happening? With your vision beginning to fade out, you slumped forward into Sebastians arms opting out on falling back against the hard metal wall.

The uncomfortableness of the cold metal against your bare skin and the stinging pain in your side sturs you awake. Hissing through your teeth you sit up, quickly realizing you arnt in your diving gear instead being in the bare essentials. The coldness was something you never could adjust to properly after being fused with some randome fish DNA the scientists excluded from telling you. Glancing down to your side you realize it's bandaged up, already becoming a light pink colour. A rough "Ahem." brings your attention to infront of you, Sebastian is in his normal spot in the corner. "How are you feeling?" His voice laced with distaste at the fact he even asked that, his eyes are squinted at you analytically.

"I'm. . fine." Your voice comes out warily, feeling uncomfortable under his unwelcoming gaze. A small hum leaves Sebastian in acknowledgement, awkward silence quickly fills in the room. The situation just being unusual between you too, and the fact you were practically half naked infront of him. Truly embarrassing stuff. You wince into yourself at the stinging pain to your side, analyzing your coverd wound once again. "You know. . I could take your mind off the pain. If you wanted." Sebastian voice made you look up once again, this time in confusion. "What. . What do you mean?" Voice laced with unease as his gaze becomes more predatorial like.

With him standing at the end of the table he easily grabs ahold of your ankles, firm hands slowly gliding up your exposed flesh pulling your pelvis flush to his waist. "You know. . just another way for you to repay for my services. Gotta pay for that medkit I used on you anyways, plus you staying in my hideout? A large fee you owe. ." He trails off. His gaze boreing into you as if trying to burn right through you. "Right.." His hands leave goosebumps in wake of his trail, finally firmly resting on your hips. Two tongues simultaneously slip out of his mouth as he leans forward. Your eyes widen slighty at the fact he has two, mouth agap slighty in awe. Sebastian takes this opportunity and connects his mouth with yours.

Two of the silky appendages explore your mouth, wrapping around your tongue. Eyes closing in bliss, hands coming up and wrapping around his neck deepining the kiss. His tongues threaten to go deeper into your throat, teasingly he slithers them further slowly making you let out a choked whimper. One of his hands come up to your throat choking you, starting out softly but quickly roughing it up to barley suffocating squeezing. With air becoming scarce for you, you grip onto the back of his neck hoping he'll get the idea. Your vision quickly begins to blur with no oxygen getting to you. Weakly squirming under him hoping to free yourself.

As your vision begins to fade and your wiggling slows he leans back, letting go of your throat. Taking in a sharp breath, feeling your heart skip a beat as your vision finally regains to its full. Sebastian chuckles as he looks down at you panting, your grip on him tightens as you finally calm down, but that was short lived as you feel two rather big appendages wiggle against your thigh. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you see he has two cocks instead of one. The one that slithers it's way on the top of your stomach is much bigger and more thicker rather than the one that's under your thigh, it's still pretty big but the bottom is more thicker than the tip.

With a quick thrust of his hips a low groan emmits from him. With two of his hands gripping your midsection and his other grabbing your ankle, hoisting it over his shoulder as he leans in closer to you, mouth connecting once more. His bigger tentacle like cock slithers under your underwear, withoit any prep or warning he quickly juts his hips into you, cock easily slipping inside with how slick you already were. Tears prick the corners of your eyes at the stinging pain of him stretching you out, but after a few more thrusts the pain turned into pleasure. Moaning into the heated kiss, the feeling of his tongue fucking your mouth draws you closer to the edge, the familiar tightening feeling forms in your stomach.

As Sebastian leans back for air he reposting himself so his chest is flush against yours, he grabs the back of your thighs pushing them up. With this new angle he pushes himself impossibly deeper, hitting spots you never knew existed. Your arms tangle around his neck pushing his face into the crook of your neck. His tongues slither out giving a few little licks before harshly biting down, seemingly grounding himself as he does a few more harsh thrusts into the spot making your head feel dizzy. With a final thrust you feel something pushing its way inside you, Sebastians body stiffens with a groan as his jaw slacks against your shoulder. His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as he stills inside you. You whimper at the unfamiliar feeling of being filled up, a intrusion pushing past your cervix. Eyes furrowing in slight discomfort as you cling onto Sebastian, his rough panting, licks, and soft nips against your shoulder distract you from the pain.

He pulls out with a low groan, your stomach has a soft bump from all the eggs he pushed into you. A surprised whimper left your throat as you feel a his other slick tentacle wiggle against your entrance. He easily pushed inside once again, giving a few shallow thrusts before roughly pushing himself all the way. Moaning at the feeling of being impossible full, he ruts into you as he rides through both of your highs. He stays inside of you for a moment, catching his breath. His hand comes up and be runs his fingers through your hair, tips of his nails rubbing against your scalp comfortably. He let's your legs down slowly letting them lay on either side of his waist. His face still nuzzled into your neck as the movements of his hands slowly still until soft breathing can be heard from him. You glance down and realize he fell asleep, exhaustion quickly becomes evident to you as your eyes close with ease and you drift off to sleep holding onto Sebastian.

[scottiexmariee]

Ok so I've been loving all if the stuff you've been putting out so far, it's literally so good!!! My request is how the lads would react to you falling down the stairs and I'm talking like a long stream of stairs (totally not bc I fell down the stairs today while watching sylus edits hehehe)

First of all, omg, I am so sorry but I giggled. I hope you're okay!

Here you go, anon. I hope this is what you had in mind! Do me a favor and ban yourself from watching Sylus edits near stairs!!

How the boys would react to you falling down the stairs

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader Warnings: Stairs are your biggest op.

(little bit of falling, little bit of fluff. Lots of love for anon)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

☆ Man would be mortified.

☆ He turned his back for two seconds, next thing he knows you're takin a tumble

☆ Would most likely ban you from being near stairs by yourself again

☆ “You can take down wanderers, but lose a fight against stairs?” 

☆ Would let you lean on him for support the rest of the night (he knows it hurt)

The elevator to your shared apartment building had broken down. By the time the two of you had arrived home to find that out, it was 11pm, and far too late for maintenance to come out to fix it. You were stuck taking the stairs until maintenance arrived tomorrow morning.

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However, your day had been excruciatingly long, and the stairs were more of an obstacle and a hinderance than they should have been. Your body was sore, your legs felt like jelly, and you really hated stairs in general.

Xavier looked down at you, stifling a laugh at the exasperated expression on your face. "I could always just carry you," He offered, extending his hand.

Whether it was your pride or your stubbornness, you couldn't accept. "I'm fine," You insisted, although it sounded like you were reassuring yourself more than Xavier. "You're tired too. Go ahead, I'm right behind you," You would very quickly find out that your last statement aged like milk left out in the sun.

Xavier shot you one last skeptical glance before he turned and began walking up the stairs. You followed suit, doing a decent job until you stepped wrong and lost your balance. Your arms flailed, successfully grabbing on to nothing. The only audible indication that you were about to fall was the startled gasp that left your mouth, which caught Xavier's attention with just enough time left to helplessly watch you fall.

You stumbled backward, colliding with every single one of the 13 steps on your way down. Every single stair caused a painful shock and an even bigger dent to your ego.

Xavier was kneeling by your side in an instant.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. He helped you sit up, carefully eyeing you for any visible injuries. You were very sore, but luckily not seriously injured. At most, you'd likely be bruised in the morning.

You let out a huff of air, stifling a pained grunt in the process. "Well, that was embarrassing,"

Xavier stared at you, wide-eyed and looking like he was 3 seconds away from calling an ambulance.

"Xav. I'm alright," You insisted, twisting to lift yourself up.

Xavier intervened, quickly scooping you up before you could get to your feet.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "You're banned from stairs,"

With that, he began walking back up the stairs you'd just tumbled down. While you were nearly dying from the embarrassment, Xavier actually didn't mind carrying you. In fact, he'd rather carry you up and down every flight of stairs you encountered for the rest of your life if it meant he wouldn't witness another fall like that again.

Once you were safely at the top, he gently set you down outside of your apartment, making sure to keep hold of you in case you were unsteady on your feet.

"I can stand," You assured him. You were still heavily embarrassed, but ultimately thankful that he was so sweet.

He kept an arm on you until your door was unlocked.

"Is it too soon to say you should have accepted my offer the first time?"

You shot him a glare, although it lacked any real heat.

"I think I should stick around for the night, just in case you happen to encounter anymore stairs,"

❅ Professional Zayne mode engaged immediately

❅ Depending on how bad the fall was, you're getting a full body exam before you're even allowed off the floor

❅ and that's not it, either

❅ You think you might bruise? Cold Compress. 15 Minutes. Now.

❅ Man will be stressed for the rest of his life any time you're in the same vicinity as a single stair

Zayne had lost track of the amount of times he'd warned you to be slower coming down the stairs. Every single time you came down them, two at a time and at a speed that was less than acceptable, he'd get heart palpitations, convinced that this was the time you were going to fall.

It was coming, and he knew it. He warned you. You, however, tore through the house like a woman on a mission. You had a habit of learning the hard way, and you're simply too prideful to take his warnings seriously.

Until about 30 seconds ago.

You don't even remember what you were going to tell him. You'd been upstairs, he'd been downstairs. You raced down the stairs, coming in hot, and somehow miscalculated a step about halfway down.

That fall that Zayne had warned you about numerous times was finally a reality, and damn it was painful.

Zayne, from the kitchen, heard what sounded suspiciously like a body bouncing off the stairs and immediately stopped what he was doing to come check on you.

He rounded the corner, and there you were in all your glory: dazed, disoriented, and sore with a bloody lip serving as the cherry on top.

"Don't move," He said gently, kneeling at your side. With well trained eyes, he began looking you over. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," You groaned. It was true. 30 seconds ago you were having the time of your life, and now you felt like you'd been hit by a semi truck.

The next 10 minutes consisted of Zayne thoroughly checking every limb, asking you to answer various questions ("what day is it? What year is it? Time? Count backwards from 10. What comes after W?") and forcibly holding an icepack to your lip.

He ended up carrying you to the couch, gently laying you down so he could continue what he was doing while simultaneously babysitting you.

He did not hit you with an "I told you so,"

Not yet, anyway.

However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking for a house that didn't have stairs.

❀ He'd hear it from the other room and think a tree fell on his studio or something

❀ "Is it storming? I swear I heard thunder,"

❀ He'd make sure you were okay, but he's definitely teasing you about it later

❀ "I'm looking for a new bodyguard. Mine can't even handle a staircase,"

❀ definitely makes a moment post later on

❀ ^ "thought it was storming earlier. turns out it was just (Y/N) getting in a fight with stairs and losing. 10/10 ambience though,"

❀ on a separate occasion, I can see you both falling at the same time and blaming each other for it

While Rafayel was occupied with his current project, boredom had gotten the best of you. You began exploring the studio, surprised to find a set of stairs that you hadn't noticed before. Upon further inspection, they lead to an attic.

Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. You couldn't help yourself.

Was Rafayel an attic man? What sorts of trinkets did he stash up there? The questions were burning too hot to go unanswered.

Unfortunately, it was mostly old paint supplies and boxes of random decorations that had been retired. You were left a little unsatisfied, but you had gotten an answer.

As you began to retreat, you realized the stairs felt a lot steeper than they did on the way up.

It didn't take long for you to lose your footing. The sounds that filled the air were a symphony of thuds and curses.

After laying on the ground for a few minutes, trying to recover, you opened your eyes to see Rafayel standing above you.

"You good?" He asked, kneeling down. "I kinda thought you died,"

"I'm not good, but I'm not dead."

He gently checked you over and then extended a hand to help you up.

"I think you should stay away from stairs," He drawled, leading you toward the couch. "and I also think you should sit here and recover from that,"

You plopped on the couch, too tired to protest.

Rafayel studied you for a moment longer, wanting to make sure you were truly alright before he began the teasing. It was his way of lightening the mood. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You reassured him that yes, you were alright. He sat next to you, casually tossing an arm around your shoulders.

"Good, because we need to talk about your Bodyguard skills. You need training or something. You just lost a fight to some stairs,"

⟡ He was never worried about you around stairs before

⟡ but he's absolutely having remodeling done within the next 24 hours now

⟡ you are getting absolutely BABIED by this man the second he comes to your aid

⟡ You're not even lifting a fork, sweetie

⟡ You're getting tossed over his shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes if stairs can't be avoided in the future

⟡ You're not going to get hurt again if he can help it

At times, Sylus thought it was cute when you shut your brain off around him. He knew that it meant you felt safe, and it filled him with warmth whenever he stopped to think about it.

He'd place a tactical hand over the corner of the table when you bent down to pick something up, just in case you bumped your head again, you'd hit his hand instead of the corner.

He'd gently guide you when you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, too engrossed in your conversation to look for obstacles.

You really only did it when you two were at the base. Sylus didn't mind, though. In fact, it was almost endearing, the way you were comfortable enough to turn off your spatial awareness.

He couldn't always be around to steer you away from obstacles, though.

And you, unfortunately, had a habit of walking around while looking at your phone instead of where your feet were going.

You'd done it again today. But this time, it had caused a problem.

You were walking down the stairs to get a drink, completely fixated on a video you were watching, not a single worry in the world about the steps. Sylus had chided you for it before, but it had never been an issue....until now.

You stepped too far forward and immediately ate shit the rest of the way down the stairs. Your phone clattered to the floor, ending up several feet away. Mephisto witnessed the entire thing and had the nerve to squawk at you.

To add insult to injury, Sylus just so happened to be rounding the corner just in time to see your disheveled figure crumpled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

He was careful not to jostle you when he knelt down.

"Can you move?"

You wiggled your fingers, your toes. Flexed your wrist, rotated your arms. Despite the horrendous pain in your side, you could still move. You answered his question with a nod.

He picked you up as gently as he could, holding you princess style with both arms, being extra careful.

"Were you on your phone?" He asked, already eyeing the evidence on the floor. The screen was shattered, but the sound of the video you'd been watching was still coming through the speakers. He'd warned you about walking distracted before, but was usually there to be a hero. Not this time.

"Maybe,"

He refused to get more than three feet away from you for the next several hours, constantly offering to get you various things you may need. Water? He's on it. A snack? You bet. Heating pad? Consider it done.

If you had known that accidentally falling down the stairs would cause Sylus to get all soft and cradle you like you were made of glass for the next few hours, you'd have fallen on purpose a lot sooner.

[anantaru]

ONE KISS IS ALL IT TAKES ... OR MORE? — SCARAMOUCHE

your boyfriend scaramouche can be so grumpy sometimes, but you know of a couple ways that will make him show his soft side, wc. 1.3k

・✶ ｡ warnings — heavily making out & tit play, fem! reader, fluff, established relationship, grumpy scaramouche

it's not difficult for you to discern whenever your boyfriend scaramouche was grumpy after a long day and you could already hear it from afar, not needing to see him— the familiar sounds of grumbling and frustrated sighs flowing from his lips to your ears even before you entered your shared apartment.

to be clear, you really don't mind your boyfriend being in one of his moods again, it was quite normal to you and in all honesty, there was nothing more inside of you than a burning impulse of wanting to help him as good as you could.

you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what might've been the reason this particular night.

right as you walked into your bedroom, you found him lividly pacing back and forth, his brows furrowed and his lips set in a tight line of frustration, agitated to the point where he didn't even acknowledge your presence, too wrapped up in whatever was bothering him.

"hey, are you okay?" you ask him gently, stepping a bit closer before setting your jacket on the bed, not taking your gaze off him.

"hah, what? oh, yeah, totally fine, totally okay," he mutters back, awkwardly glancing at you before resuming his pacing, giving you a cold shoulder— and ah, he did this often, for scaramouche it was difficult to actually open up but also, the last thing he wanted was to somewhat drag you down with him.

"those people in the akademiya just, they're, ugh, aggravating, you know? they don't under- understand me, they don't listen, they don't leave me alone,"

"they also can't stop staring and muttering their little mouths to death."

you listen patiently, nodding contently as he vented out his frustrations while ever so often attempting to stop himself by biting into his lower lip— and well, scaramouche had a big tendency to get grumpy pretty easily, and it often took him a while to wind down but talking to you helped, even if it takes him a little to actually do it.

not to mention that you knew the secret to calming him down, always, achieving great relaxation in softening the expression on his face.

you take his hand, guiding him to the edge of the bed as he flinches he moment you touched him, "come over there," you motion towards the bed as he nods, pulling him down to sit beside you, "relax, okay? you're home now."

"i can't relax right now," he barks back, furrowing his brows although he can never resist your welcoming, more so warm embrace as you tugged him closer to your chest, "how can people be so stupid there? aren't they supposed to be geniuses or something?"

you couldn't suppress a laugh, chuckling as you tenderly run a hand through his tousled hair, "maybe you're just too smart, ever thought about that?" you add and listen to him as he exhales shakily through his mouth.

but the man grumbles and you could swear you saw a smile, a slight pucker of his lips when you called him smart, seeing it as a small victory in itself before you shift closer, your arms wrapped around his neck.

he reacts to your touch immediately, his body tense against yours as you just hugged him for a while, holding him gently and waiting until you felt him start to relax.

"breathe and— and just feel me, okay?" you utter.

he sighs but you know whenever he sighs just like that, when the tension in his soul and body eases a bit more, "you're too good to me, keeping up with this," he frowns, his voice losing some of it's earlier sharp edge as it attains a pillowy note.

"ah, i know," you tease, "—don't have to tell me that all the time," as you playfully roll your eyes, kissing his cheek, "kidding, i love all sides of you."

"feeling better already?" you ask him, "now that i'm here?" your voice barely above a whisper.

"maybe, only a little though," you're helping and he knows it, he's both in love and scared by how well you already knew him by now.

his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, "there's something that would make me feel better, great even,"

a curious expression dances over your cheekbones, a playful smile tugging at your precious lips, "oh, really now? what are you thinking about?"

and instead of answering you with words, he captures your lips in a kiss that was a cross between a need and a fleeting frustration, an eager want that quickly deepened the kiss between you. you tug at his hair, pushing him into your lips as he kissed you like a man starved of love and lust, his tongue moving over yours in a hunger well beyond desperation.

the intensity multiplied in seconds, in every touch and every swipe of tongue— scaramouche was eager, he made sure to kiss you even harder as his hands roamed freely over your chest, leaving you short of breath.

never in a million years was his touch not possessive, not almost desperate to the point where you immediately needed more— although it was easy to discern that there was an underlying reason as to why scaramouche kissed you that way, it's as if he was afraid you might slip away if he didn't hold you tight enough.

you broke the kiss only long enough to gasp for air, looking into his doughy eyes as your heart knocks and knocks against your chest, his facial expression drowsy and clouded, his lips swollen and glistening, "scara," you whine, your thighs pressing together.

"hmm?" he just hums an answer, not giving you a chance to say more before capturing your lips yet again, another kiss that was even more fervent than the last one he has given you.

he helps you get onto his lap before one hand slipped under your shirt to play with your tits, instantly targeting your erected nipples with a playful pinch and tug.

you shiver and moan his name, your body responding to his touch with a need that barely matched his own.

he shifts the both of you before pressing you into the bed, his body on top of yours and his lips searching for your neck as it elicits a hefty gasp from your throat.

scaramouche laughs with a deep groan as he continues to pinch your nipples and squeeze your pretty tits, his bangs sticking against his forehead and only showing the pace he was going for.

"scara, please— please," you whine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you arch into his touch.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire, "please what, hmm?" he asks teasingly, like he doesn't know what he's doing to you— as if he's not fully aware on how to get you to this point.

his voice was now, consisting of a low growl that sent shivers down your spine before he grabs at his clothed cock to show you what you're doing to him, stroking the obvious bulge in his pants and hissing as he grinds his cock into his palm.

"please don't stop," you whisper and cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you before your voice trembles in need, "i need you, it feels so good,"

ah, what was the reason he was grumpy about again? because archons— scaramouche swears he forgot, he can forget just about anything when he hears you say that you need him.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[my-castles-crumbling]

wine - jegulus-ish? - prompt from TTPD server's microprompt challenge - word count: 363

Sighing, Regulus stared at the rows and rows of wine, resisting the overwhelming urge to cry in the middle of the liquor store. While he felt like he knew something about wine, the pressure of selecting wine for this particular evening was so high that he felt like he might pass out. And it didn't help that he had zero guidance. James was great in most ways, but useless in others.

"Alright there?"

A calm, soothing voice broke Regulus from his panic, and he looked up to see the most motherly-looking woman he'd ever seen. From her kind smile to her genuinely concerned expression, she oozed maternal love, and made him want to melt.

"I-I'm fine," he sighed. Normally, he would have left it there, but for some reason, the warmth the woman gave off made him want to share more. "I'm just meeting my boyfriend's parents tonight, and...I'm nervous," he chuckled. "I don't do well with things like this and I think I've convinced myself if I pick the perfect wine, things will go perfectly."

Wrinkles formed in the corner of the woman's eyes as she grinned wider, and her warm hand moved to rest on Regulus's shoulder. "Do you love him, beta?"

Thinking of James, his beautiful grin, his laughter, the way he held him and loved him and made him laugh and constantly made his life better, Regulus couldn't help but smile and nod. "So much. More than anything, really."

The woman nodded like she was confirming something. "Then his parents will love you. All a good parent wants is for their child to be loved, after all. And if they don't...it's on them, not you."

Smiling softly and nodding back, Regulus sighed, his anxiety easing just a bit. "Alright. I-thank you."

"I also helps to bring a Chardonnay," she continued, reaching forward and handing him a bottle, eyes sparkling. "Now. I have no doubt that things will go well for you, but...good luck, Regulus."

He thanked the kind woman again, only realizing after he got to his car that he'd never told her his name.

He shouldn't have been shocked later to find out her name was Euphemia Potter.

-

The internet was a bit iffy about a translation for 'dear' in Hindi, since I had to take into account age, relationship, and gender so please correct me if I'm wrong!

[amirasainz]

Driver Reader x driver, where she shows up with her boyfriend for the first time and all the drivers are super protective. But her boyfriend is just someone normal.

Please and thank you♥️♥️♥️

Ahhh, so cute♡♡♡

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

The Boyfriend

Yn adjusted her Red Bull cap, glancing over her shoulder with a smile as she walked hand-in-hand with Tony. It wasn’t the first time she’d been to the paddock, of course—she was the youngest driver on the grid and had become a regular fixture in the F1 world. But this was the first time she’d brought her boyfriend, Tony, with her. Tony, a calm and level-headed veterinarian, was about as far from the chaotic world of motorsport as one could get. He was supportive, quiet, and always knew how to ground her when the pressure of racing got too intense.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Yn asked, glancing up at him. "I mean, it's kind of a circus in here."

Tony chuckled, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm fine, Yn. Honestly, you're more nervous than I am."

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. "You have no idea what you're in for. These guys… they act like I'm their little sister. They're going to be all over you."

As they approached the Red Bull garage, Yn spotted a few drivers milling about. Charles and Lando were chatting near the McLaren garage, but their conversation halted the second they saw Yn and Tony approaching. Both of them exchanged a glance, and then their eyes shifted to Tony.

"Here we go," Yn muttered under her breath, bracing herself for what was coming.

Lando was the first to approach, a wide grin on his face as he clapped his hands together. "Yn! And who do we have here?" His eyes flickered to Tony, and he looked him up and down like a detective trying to figure out a mystery. "This must be Tony, the famous boyfriend we’ve heard so much about."

Tony gave a polite smile, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, Lando."

Lando shook his hand, his grin never fading but his eyes clearly sizing Tony up. "So... what do you do, Tony?"

"I'm a vet," Tony replied, meeting Lando's gaze with calm confidence.

"A vet?" Charles piped up, stepping closer. "Like... animals?"

Tony nodded. "Yep. Mostly dogs and cats, but I’ve worked with horses, too."

Charles blinked, as if trying to wrap his head around this very normal profession in their very not-normal world. "Huh. That’s... cool."

Yn rolled her eyes playfully, leaning into Tony. "Told you they’d act weird."

Before Tony could reply, Max walked over, his usual serious expression in place, though his eyes softened when he saw Yn. "Hey, Yn. Tony, right?"

Tony nodded, shaking Max’s hand. "Yeah, that’s me."

Max studied him for a moment, his arms crossed. "You treat Yn well?"

Yn groaned. "Max—"

But Tony smiled, unbothered. "I do my best."

Max nodded slowly, as if he were making a mental note. "Good." He turned to Yn, giving her a rare, small smile. "He seems solid."

"Solid?" Yn raised an eyebrow, amused. "He’s not a car, Max."

Max shrugged, unbothered. "Same concept."

As the group continued to chat, Daniel appeared, sunglasses perched on his head and his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. "Oh, oh, oh! What do we have here? Yn and her mysterious vet boyfriend!" He walked up to Tony and threw an arm around his shoulder, like they were old friends. "So, Tony... tell me. How’s it feel dating an F1 driver?"

Tony chuckled, glancing at Yn. "Pretty amazing, honestly. I get to see her do what she loves."

Daniel’s grin widened. "Aww, you’re sweet. You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?"

"Obviously," Yn interjected, giving Daniel a playful shove. "I wouldn’t date him if he wasn’t."

Tony, meanwhile, was taking it all in stride, answering the barrage of questions with ease. Yn watched him, her heart swelling with pride. He was so calm, so collected—completely unfazed by the whirlwind of personalities that surrounded him. And the way he looked at her, his eyes soft and full of love, made her feel like the luckiest person in the world.

As they moved through the paddock, the other drivers seemed to subtly check in on Tony. Fernando gave him a polite nod as they passed by, though Yn caught the slight smirk on Nando’s face when he saw Tony’s hand resting gently on her back. Even Lewis, ever the cool and composed champion, gave Tony a once-over when they crossed paths, offering a brief, “Nice to meet you, mate,” before flashing Yn a knowing smile.

The protective energy from the drivers was palpable, but none of them were over the top. They all seemed to recognize that Yn was happy, and that was what mattered most. Even when Valtteri walked by, eyeing the couple with his usual stoic expression, he paused just long enough to look Tony up and down.

"I approve," Valtteri said simply, giving a nod before continuing on his way.

Yn couldn’t help but laugh. "See? They’re ridiculous."

Tony smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear in that gentle way he always did. "They care about you. That’s not ridiculous."

She sighed, leaning into his touch. "Yeah, they do. They’re like a bunch of overprotective big brothers."

As they reached the Red Bull garage, Yn began talking animatedly with one of the mechanics about the upcoming race, her hands flying through the air as she explained something technical. Tony stood by her side, watching her with quiet admiration. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

From a distance, Lando nudged Charles, nodding in their direction. "Look at them."

Charles followed his gaze, watching as Tony gently pushed Yn’s hair out of her face while she continued to talk. The way Tony handled her bag, carrying it without a second thought, and the way he listened so attentively—it was clear to everyone how much he adored her.

"They’re cute," Charles admitted with a small smile. "Really cute."

Lando grinned, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I guess he’s not so bad. If Yn’s happy, we’re happy, right?"

Max, overhearing their conversation, gave a rare, genuine smile. "Exactly."

As the day went on, the drivers slowly relaxed around Tony, realizing that there was no need to be overprotective. Tony wasn’t just some guy; he was someone who genuinely cared for Yn, who loved her with his whole heart. They could see it in the little things—the way he looked at her, the way he was always aware of her, making sure she was comfortable, happy, and safe.

By the time the paddock began to wind down for the evening, Yn and Tony were sitting together near the Red Bull motorhome, Yn’s head resting on Tony’s shoulder as they watched the last of the mechanics pack up.

"See?" Yn murmured, her eyes half-closed. "Told you they’d be protective."

Tony chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Yeah, but they mean well. They just love you."

Yn smiled, her heart warm. "Yeah, I know. But they’re gonna have to get used to the idea that I’m not their little sister forever."

Tony grinned. "Good luck with that."

Just then, George walked by, flashing them a thumbs-up. "You guys are adorable. Officially ship it."

Yn groaned, burying her face in Tony’s shoulder, and Tony just laughed. "Told you it’d be fine," he whispered.

And as they sat there, wrapped up in each other, Yn realized that he was right. Everything was more than fine—it was perfect.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

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