#but hey at least I’m low support needs

[paranormeow7]

me when I didn’t get the good at math autism or the good at art autism or even the obsessing over fictional men autism instead I got the apathy autism. the too much executive dysfunction to even do the things that make me happy autism. the social anxiety to the point where shooting a quick dm to someone carries the weight of the world autism. the unable to express emotion or communicate properly to the point where it ruins my relationships because people think I don’t give a shit about them when there is so much care inside me that my brain will not let me express autism

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the croissants

buttercup, chapter one

a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.

summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)

word count: 2415

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“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 

Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”

“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”

“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”

Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.

“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 

“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 

Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”

“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”

As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 

Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”

“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 

“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.

“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.

“Bye!”

You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 

Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 

“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 

Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.

“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 

“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.

“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”

But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”

Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 

“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 

Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 

“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 

Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”

“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”

“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 

After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.

“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 

“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 

“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”

“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”

“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 

“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”

“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”

“You?”

“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”

“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”

“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”

“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.

“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”

“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”

“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”

“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”

“Yep.”

“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”

“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”

“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”

“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”

“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”

“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 

But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”

The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.

Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”

Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”

Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”

“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”

“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”

Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 

As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 

Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 

“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 

“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”

“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Sure, I like croissants.”

“Oh, great, wonderful!”

Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”

“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 

It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 

“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 

As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  

“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 

And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 

“Night.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[t1red-twilight]

hey! could i please request “you’re so short.” “i’ll kick your knees in” from your prompts list?

if you can could you do something like the insulting each other is them flirting and neither of them realise? i’m an absolute sucker for that kind of stuff. if not then totally okay take your own lead with it i’m sure it’ll be great either way!

i love your writing 🫶🏻

ankle biter

summary: “you’re so short” “i’ll kick your knees in.”

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, reader is short, cursing (like one), dadcore hotch

notes: thank you so much for the request! i assumed you meant spencer from the mgg pfp 🫡 i really appreciate your support. i hope you have a lovely day<3333

word count: 0.6k

masterlist s. r. masterlist

you’re not the tallest person, but you’re by far not the shortest person. it was never something that you paid attention to. sure, pants shopping was hard. the proportions of your body didn’t align with popular styles, but it wasn’t a huge deal (it was, but you’d never admit it).

spencer had come to realize how inconvenienced you were by your height, even when you didn’t. at first, he liked getting things off of the tall shelves when you couldn’t quite reach.

he was flattered, in a way? there was no possible other reason. definitely not; it for sure was not the soft thank you’s that you’d give him with a gentle smile.

eventually, you noticed some patterns. you’d put your mug on the lowermost shelf, and then the next day it would miraculously transport to the top shelf.

given that you were a profiler, you caught on pretty quickly. spencer would always leave the office right after you, right before sprinting to the elevator to join you.

and, if you stayed late to do paperwork, he would arrive at work extra early the next day. it was obvious: spencer thought that you being short was hilarious and delighted in seeing you struggle vertically.

you confronted him with a mildly upset, “why do you keep moving my mug?” he hadn’t said anything after that. he blinked at you widely with his soft, round puppy eyes. the exchange ended after that.

he did not stop moving your mugs. in fact, he upgraded to hiding your paperwork, your stapler, your sticky notes. everything; and, they were all upon tall perches that only he could reach.

you tried talking to hotch, but he had just flattened his lips into a line and walked off.

“you’re so short,” he had smiled coyly down at you.

with an incredulous look, you replied: “i’ll kick your knees in, pipecleaner.”

“okay, ankle biter. i’d like to see you try.” he stepped closer to you. his exhales could be felt against your cheeks, just barely. he was squatting, taunting you.

you never did find your sticky notes.

-

presently, you were waltzing into the office. extra early, you were prepared to score your mug without the help of one very tall boy genius.

he wasn’t at his desk: finally! you had won!

alas, when you meandered into the kitchenette, your mug was nowhere to be found. when you were about to give up and admit defeat, you saw a flash of a familiar color out of the corner of your eye.

there it was.

your mug was on top of the shelves. you didn’t even think spencer would stoop that low (high?), but he had.

placed delicately on your mug, was a sticky note. written on it was a heart and “s.r.”

dragging your feet, you made your way back to the bullpen. and, there he was. with an innocent look on his face.

like a kicked puppy, you slunk over to his desk.

“hi, honey. you need anything?”

-

“you’re sure they're not dating? or at least fucking?” emily was in disbelief. she had seen the two of you flirt for months. she, akin to the rest of your colleagues, could not take it any longer.

“nope,” derek took a sip of his coffee. “they definitely are not. we would have noticed.”

“but, it so obvious. why don’t we just-” at this, hotch butted in.

he stepped in the way of morgan’s and prentiss’ view. his arms were crossed and his face was in the same stern expression that it always seemed to be in. “don’t mess with it. they’ll get together eventually.”

morgan and prentiss spoke over each other. “how are you so sure?” and, “how do you know?”

“because if garcia doesn’t pull any strings, lord help me i will.”

they all turned and stared at spencer’s delighted expression: he had retrieved your mug and you were trying your hardest to seem as angry as you could as he dangled it over your head.

there was a pause. “now get back to work.”

[the-fiction-witch]

The Morning After

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - (OC) Princess Elaena (Daughter of Viserys and Alicent, Arranged Marriage) Rating - 15+ Word Count - 2283

Elaena shivers slightly in the morning breeze, her naked body covered only by the black silk sheets of the bed inside the dragon stone chamber, and slightly by Jacaerys. She shared at the fireplace as the flame slowly died down, lost in her own mind.

Jacaerys feels a slight shiver running through Elaena's body, and he smiles slightly as his eyes roam over her skin. He gently pulls up the sheets and covers more of her body before placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. “Are you cold?”

she jumped as he spoke not aware he was awake yet, "Oh uh... No." She lied.

"You're such a terrible liar." He teased, gently nipping on her sensitive earlobe. Jacaerys gently pressed his body closer to Elaena's, his chest to her back as he wrapped both arms around her waist, bringing her even closer against him in an attempt to share some warmth with her.

"I... Uhh I suppose so"

“It’s alright to admit you’re cold, you know.” He whispered gently into her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"I'll be fine, - thank you prince Jacaerys." She said nervously clutching the silk sheets to her body,

"Elaena, there's no need to be nervous." He whispers gently, he takes her hand softly in his and his thumb gently begins tracing patterns on the back of her hand. "And please, call me Jacaerys. We're married now, you have no need to call me 'Prince Jacaerys' so formally, at least not when we’re alone."

Jacaerys gently pulls the sheets and the hand holding it down away from her body, exposing her naked skin to the room and himself. He gently rolls her onto her back, resting her on the bed, and positions himself over her, his arms planted on either side of her head, supporting his bodyweight so that he wouldn't crush her. His chest brushed against her skin, as he leaned down and placed his lips against the smooth skin on her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the skin, leaving behind a trail of hickeys.

she shivered, her hands come to her chest using her forearms to conceal her bare breasts in a innocent fearful sort of way,

Jacaerys gently grabs her wrists and pulls them away from her chest, pinning them above her head as he continues to work his way down her neck, slowly trailing his kisses down to her collarbone. "Don't hide yourself from me, let me see all of you." His hips settle between her legs, and he slowly rocks his hips against hers, creating a delicious friction between their bodies.

She began to whimper and her body trembled and shivered, her eyes squeezed shut tightly.

Jacaerys releases her wrists and begins to gently caress her body, his hands roaming over her bare skin, exploring every inch of her body. He continues to kiss and suck on her neck, his hips still gently rocking against hers, the friction between their bodies growing more intense, causing Jacacerys to get hard. "Look at me, I want to see your eyes." Jacaerys whispers against her skin, his voice low and sultry.

Suddenly a tear slips from her eye,

Jacaerys notices and immediately stops what he's doing. He releases her wrists putting space between them and gently cups her face in his hands, his thumb wiping away the tear. "Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry… look at me." He says softly, "If I'm doing something you don't like, or if I'm going too fast, tell me. We don't have to do this if you don’t want to."

Slowly Elaena sits up pulling her knees to her chest concealing herself as she softly cries "what does it matter..."

He hears her words and frowns, a mixture of guilt and confusion on his face. "It matters to me." He says softly, sitting up as well and gently placing a hand on her bare back, rubbing slow circles on her skin. "I don't want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I want you to be happy and safe." He leans forward and gently presses a gentle kiss to her shoulder. “You’re my wife, why would I ever want you to be unhappy?”

"it doesn't matter... We're married now."

"Just because we're married doesn't mean I don't care about you and your feelings. If you're uncomfortable or not ready, we can wait as long as you need." He looks at her with concern in his eyes. "Why are you crying?"

"because... This is it. It's all just done. I am your bride... Our marriage consummated, My Maidenhead taken... It's all over. Nothing awaits me now but growing your heirs... Just to have them ripped from me to be placed on the throne." Ahs trembled

Jacaerys listened carefully to her words, his heart aching at the pain and despair in her voice. He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her body and gently pulling her onto his lap, cradling her against his chest to provide some comfort. "Hey, that's not true. You're more than just the mother of my heirs." He gently runs his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her. "You're my wife. My partner. My friend. I care about you as a person, not just as a vessel for my heirs." Jacaerys held her tightly in his arms, feeling her body tremble and shake as she cried. He whispered soft reassurances into her ear, gently rubbing her back and placing gentle kisses on her forehead, trying his best to comfort her. "Shhh, it's alright. I'm here. I've got you. Let it all out." Jacaerys held her against him, continuing to gently rub her back and whisper soothing words into her ear as she cried, letting all her emotions out. He gently rocked her back and forth, just holding her in his arms, offering her a safe place to feel the overwhelming waves of emotion. After a while, he quietly asked, "Can I ask you something?"

she nodded eyes still full of tears

Jacaerys gently brushed away some tears from her face before speaking, his voice laced with genuine concern. "Do you..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Do you not want this?"

"I... I must do my duty."

Jacaerys gently tilted her head up so that she was looking at him, his eyes meeting hers. He spoke softly but firmly. "It's not just about doing your duty. I want you to be happy. I want you to want this. I don't want you to feel pressured or like you're being forced into something you don't want." He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and continued speaking. "I want our marriage to be built on more than just duty. I want you to be my partner, my friend, my equal." He paused for a moment, searching her eyes for any signs of understanding or agreement. "So, please. Be honest with me. Do you want this? Do you want to be my wife, and have my heirs?"

"... I... I don't know"

Jacaerys paused for a moment, taking in her answer. Despite the sadness he felt at her uncertainty, he appreciated her honesty. He gently cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumb over her cheek. "It's alright. You don't have to know right now." He gently pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly against his body. "We'll figure it out together. I'm here for you, no matter what."

"thank you... I just... I don't know what other choice I have"

Jacaerys held her against him, his arms wrapped tightly around her frame, feeling the warmth of her body against his. He gently kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering on her hair for a moment. "You're right, things seemed to have been decided for us. But there's still a choice in how we handle it." He paused, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her back. "And I'm going to support you, no matter what you decide."

She nodded "and if I decided I didn't?"

Jacaerys pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes with a serious but gentle expression. "If you decided that you didn't want this, that you didn't want to be married to me, then we would figure it out. We would find a way to make things work." He took a deep breath, his hand gentle as he gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "But you must know, that I do want this. I want you, as my wife, by my side."

"why? Why do you want this?"

Jacaerys took a moment to think before answering her question, his gaze locked on hers. "Why do I want you as my wife? Because you're smart, and kind, and beautiful." He gently caressed her face with his fingertips, his touch soft and affectionate. "Because you make me smile and laugh, and you challenge me in ways I never thought possible." He paused, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her lips. "Because I feel something for you that I've never felt for anyone before." He continued, his voice growing softer and more vulnerable. "I want this because I want to wake up beside you every morning. I want to hold you when you're sad, and celebrate with you when you're happy. I want to know everything about you, and share everything about myself with you. I want you, Elaena, because I'm completely and utterly in love with you."

"... I'm sorry" she looked up at him

Jacaerys's heart skipped a beat at her words, and a slight frown tugged at the corners of his lips. "don't apologize," he said gently, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I... I do... Enjoy your company jacaerys. You have been kinder to me then I imagined you might. You are a handsome man, a smart man, and ... For what it is worth. I am willing to do my duty... Even if it hurts. But I... I know there is too much at stake in our marriage to not uphold it, our marriage holds together a family that would be at war without it. You can't deny that leaves us… somewhat forced into this." She explained "I know... In time. I will learn to love you... I... I just haven't...yet"

He took a deep breath, holding her gaze with a serious but understanding expression. "I understand, I do. And I appreciate your honesty.” He gently stroked her hair with his fingers. "But please, know that I don't want you to force yourself to love me. I want you to love me because you want to, not because you feel like you have to."

"... I .. will try"

Jacaerys smiled softly at her response, feeling a bit more hopeful. He gently placed a kiss on her forehead, his thumb caressing her cheek gently. "That's all I ask. I understand that it may take time, and I will be patient with you." He pulled her closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help you, okay?"

she nodded

Jacaerys held her close against him, enveloping her in his warmth and strength. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her, finding comfort in her presence. After a moment, he gently spoke again, his voice soft and low. "Can I ask you something personal?"

"yes?"

“... have you ever been with a man before we got married?"

"no," she answered

Jacaerys's heart skipped a beat at her response, a mixture of relief and possessiveness washing over him. She was completely innocent, untouched by any other man before him. He gently pulled back slightly so that he could look at her, his hand coming up to cup her face in his palm. "Have you... at least been kissed before?"

she shook her head

Jacaerys heart raced at her admission, his breath catching in his throat. She was entirely untainted, a pure and innocent bride just for him. He couldn’t help the feeling of possessiveness that rose within him at the thought, and he gently tilted her chin up to look at him. "Good," he said, his voice low and rough with desire. "You're all mine, and mine alone." He gently brushed his thumb over her lips, feeling the softness and smoothness of her skin, and his heart thumped heavily in his chest. "I'm the first man to touch your lips," he murmured, tracing the outline of her mouth with his finger. "The first man to hold you in his arms like this." Jacaerys's eyes darkened with possessiveness as he continued to caress her face, tracing the gentle curve of her jawline, down her neck to the tops of her shoulders. "And I'll be the first man to taste you in every way possible," he said lowly, his voice a gruff whisper against her skin. He gently brushed his lips against her neck, planting light kisses that traced a path down to her collarbone. "The first man to explore every inch of your body," he murmured, his hands slowly moving down her back and tracing along her spine. "The first man to bring you pleasure."

"... Jacaerys?"

Jacaerys paused his trail of kisses and lifted his head to look at her, his eyes searching hers with a mixture of desire and a hint of concern. Her voice had wavered, and he couldn't tell if she was uncomfortable or nervous. "Yes?" he replied, gently caressing the smooth skin on her back.

"you want me to be honest with you? Don't you?"

Jacaerys nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, of course. I always want you to be honest with me," he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. "Why? Do you have something you want to tell me?"

"last night... Our wedding night... I... I did not feel pleasure" she admits, 

[misctf]

Hey, dude. My dad and I have never really clicked; he always wanted me to be more athletic, like a classic jock, which, just by looking at me, it’s pretty clear would be impossible. Right now, I'm in my junior year of college, thinking about going to med school. My dad even went to college on a scholarship to play football; he was a defensive tackle, but these days he looks way more like an offensive tackle thanks to a mix of working as a foreman at a construction company, a pretty unhealthy diet, and the crazy amount of beer he downs with his buddies. And those are the memories I have from my childhood, since by the time I was born, he was way past his prime. Normally, we steer clear of each other, but today’s my birthday, and he shows up on campus with a case of beer from some brand I’ve never seen, saying he wants to celebrate the big 2-1 of his only son the right way. I appreciated the gesture, even though I hate the stuff. But not wanting to be a buzzkil I took a sip, and now I’m not feeling well while my dad’s just sitting there, grinning at me. What the hell is going on?

You place the can of beer down and stare at your dad, only to be greeted by his shit-eating smirk. A wave of nausea washes over you and the room seems to be spinning.

“What the hell is going on?” You think.

Yeah, you and your dad didn’t get along all too well. Your interest in academics and dreams of medical school are simply foreign concepts to your brutish father. But poisoning you? No way, right? You try to stand up, stumbling a bit, only to be supported by your father’s huge arm. You turn to him, eyes half-lidded.

“Wh-what did you do?” You slur.

“Don’t worry, son.” He leads you back to your chair, “Just relax.”

You writhe as your body begins to undergo a metamorphosis. Your dad grins as you cry out and rip the clothes from your body, exposing your less than ideal physique. You stare up at him, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes as you feel each and every single one of your muscles heat up. You know this shouldn’t be possible. This flies in the face of all the biochemistry you learned. Yet, as you stare at your hand, your eyes widen in terror. Your hand begins to crack and reform, becoming larger and manlier. And you watch as the process happens to your feet. Your toes breaking through your shoes, tufts of hair on each of them, their musk filling the air. The changes seem to move up your arms and legs at equal pace, packing on muscle with each contraction. And as you cry out from the pain of your metamorphosis, you notice your voice is getting deeper.

“Dad, please...” You can’t help but realize you sound like those oafish frat bros around campus, “I... I...”

But against your will, your lips form a smirk. And you can feel your jaw shifting and changing. Your messy brown hair shortening. And worse yet, you feel a fog descend over your mind. When the last of the changes finish, your dad can’t help but grin at the sight of his new and improved son. Unaware that you are still there- just watching through the new jock’s eyes.

“Yo pops,” The words leave your mouth without any of your input, “Did I like, win the lottery or somethin’ bro?” God you hate the sound of your new voice. It’s the voice of a stereotypical douchebag. Dumb, low, and dripping with an irritating smugness.

“Something like that.” He slaps your muscular back and grins, “Fuck, Jim was right. This shit works wonders.” He stares down at your beer, “So son...” He chuckles when he notices you’re completely focused on the football game on the TV.

“Fuck, I need a beer.” You feel your muscular arm reach towards your beer. A wave of panic washes over you, but your dad stops you.

“Woah, easy there.” He chuckles, “If just a sip did this to you, I can’t imagine the full bottle.” At least your dad had some common sense, you think.

For the rest of the day, you were forced to watch as a passenger in your new body. You tossed the ol’ pigskin with your dad, rated the sorority girls that walked by, and lifted some weights at the school’s gym. Your dad seemed thrilled with the new you. But as a passenger- you hated all of it. The way this body felt, the way it smelled, and especially the sound of your voice.

Your dad left later that day, leaving you trapped. But as the days pass, you start recognizing a few things. The jock that now occupies and controls your day-to-day life seems to be into two things: working-out and jerking off. And you realize that while you might not have complete control, you can at least influence the jock- and enjoy his jerk-off sessions. But you serve as his conscious. As long as you don’t interfere with his work-outs or pleasure sessions, you’re able to push him to go to class. And even though your grades are slipping, you’re at least able to prevent most of the damage.

When the semester ends, you dread your return home. Your dad is already talking about all the shit you’re going to do together. Hunting, camping- fuck, he even got you a job at his construction site. The jock in control just grins and fist bumps your dad, excited to spend time with his ol’ man. But you have to study for the medical school entrance exams. And you’re not going to let this stop you. Unfortunately, you couldn’t even begin to realize how much that stressed the stupid jock.

“Fuck!” He bellows, dropping his weights, “No, I don’t wanna fuckin’ study.” He groans, “Leave me the fuck alone, bro.” He grips his head, “I just wanna get big and fuck, alright?”

He never lashed out like this before. And part of you is worried he might do something stupid. Naturally, he does. He opens the basement fridge’s door, looking for his post-workout shake. But he grins when he sees an all too familiar case of beer. He grabs a bottle and inspects it closely.

“Aight brah, if this shit got me lookin’ like this,” He flexes his sweaty bicep, “a little more won’t hurt. Maybe this’ll shut you up.” You’re screaming for him to stop. But he flicks the cap off, “Cheers, bro.” He downs the bottle in only a few seconds, his belch filling the room.

“No, no, no...” You’re panicking now, waiting for the worst.

“See, not all that baaaaaaaaahhhhh.” The jock groans as his muscles begin to heat up.

But this time feels different to you. Not particularly the physical sensations in your muscles. But by the pressure in your head. It’s stronger. Almost like it’s enveloping the last remnants of you in a fog. You watch in the mirror through the jock’s eyes as your face takes on a more simian look. And you can hear his voice getting deeper. The words fragmenting and making less sense.

“Me bigger. It hurt!” The jock grunts, drool dripping from his mouth.

Your pecs explode with muscle, becoming two giant slabs of meat. Your arms are packing on an equally ridiculous amount of muscle, and you realize you can barely turn your head anymore from all the added muscle to your frame. The lean muscle of the handsome jock is growing- becoming that of a bodybuilder on steroids. Hair erupts across your previously clean shaven chest and abdomen, and a beard shapes your increasingly more simian face. Your forehead juts out, jaw becoming larger, and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

“Wait, no!” You beg as you feel something pulling you from deep within your mind. Dragging you into the fog of your new caveman-like existence.

Your dreams, desires, and pride in your academics are all being drowned suffocated in a musky, lust-filled fog that floods your mind. The only thoughts that occupy your smaller brain include lifting, flexing, and jerking off. There’s no remnant of your mind left to prevent you from engaging in your primal desires. And as your mind is molded to fully match the new you, you start to laugh. Dull, dumb, and absolutely devoid of any higher-thinking. It fills the room around you. And you collapse, hand pumping your cock- sweat pouring from your musky, hairy musculature.

When your dad comes downstairs later, he’s shocked by what he sees. Gone was the perfect jock son he created. In his place is this brutish, massive, and hairy ape of a man.

“Son?” He whimpers.

You look over at your dad and grin, “Drink good.”

And as you continue to lift your weights, your dad just stares at the empty bottle on the ground. Now realizing he should’ve just thrown the damn things out.

_______________

Please feel free to send me ideas/requests via my Inbox. Still working on a few but I've enjoyed everyone's ideas so far!

[imthebadguyyy]

Iron Hearts

With the same fire and charm that runs in the Stark bloodline, you’ve never been one to fade into the background.

pairing : steve rogers x reader fandom : mcu synopsis : As Tony Stark’s younger sister, you’ve always shared his brilliance and bold personality. Outgoing, witty, and never afraid to speak your mind, you’re just as comfortable stealing the spotlight as your brother is. But when Tony ropes you into joining the Avengers' operations after the Chitauri invasion, the last thing you expect is to clash with Captain America, Steve Rogers—a man so different from the fast-paced world you’re used to. Steve’s stoic, old-fashioned values collide with your free-spirited nature, sparking a connection that’s as electric as it is infuriating. As the Avengers face new threats, you and Steve find yourselves drawn together in unexpected ways, each challenge bringing you closer. The world is always in need of saving—but will the Iron legacy and a shielded heart leave room for something more?

EPISODE 1 : COLLIDE

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The low hum of machinery filled your private lab, a familiar and soothing backdrop to the glow of various monitors and the holographic interface suspended above your desk. You were in your element here—surrounded by sleek gadgets, circuits, and blueprints only you understood. The soft, sterile light of the fluorescent bulbs bathed everything in a cool hue, making the outside world feel distant, almost irrelevant. Your hands moved with practiced precision, making the final tweaks to your latest invention—something sleek, cutting-edge, and powerful. It was not for public eyes, least of all Tony’s. Let him bask in the glory of his Iron Man suits and his public heroism. You preferred working in the shadows, away from the spotlight. After all, the real power came from the things people didn’t see.

Just as you were about to run another test, FRIDAY’s calm, computerized voice broke the silence. “Incoming call—Tony Stark.”

You let out a small, exasperated sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Of course Tony would interrupt now, just when you were getting into the groove. Without breaking your stride, you gestured toward the nearest screen, signaling FRIDAY to patch the call through.

Tony’s face flickered to life on the screen, his usual cocky grin already plastered across his face. He looked annoyingly well-rested for someone who constantly threw himself into world-saving chaos.

“Hey, sis. Got a minute?” His tone was casual, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Tony always had an ulterior motive.

“Not for you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched with a slight smile. You’d perfected the art of giving Tony a hard time over the years. “What do you need, Tony?”

“Can’t a brother call to check on his favorite sibling?” He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “We both know I’m your only sibling.”

“Touché,” he admitted, chuckling softly. "But seriously, I need you."

You froze momentarily, your hand hovering over the interface. Tony rarely outright asked for help, and when he did, you knew it was big. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave him your full attention.

“I need my secret weapon,” Tony added, his voice dropping to that tone he used when he really wanted something.

You blinked at him, skeptical. “Secret weapon? Tony, I’m not about to be your backup tech support.”

Tony grinned, undeterred by your resistance. "This isn’t just tech support. It’s big. New team, new mission, bigger stakes. And who better to help me keep this bunch in line than you?"

You hesitated, glancing at the half-finished prototype on your desk. For years, you’d operated under the radar, happy to let Tony soak up the limelight. Being his sister came with a certain level of scrutiny you’d avoided like the plague. You preferred the quiet. The idea of stepping into the Avengers' world—especially now—seemed chaotic at best.

“I’m not suiting up, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you finally said, narrowing your eyes at him. The last thing you needed was to get dragged into one of his world-saving escapades in some shiny new armor.

“Of course not,” Tony grinned, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that told you he wasn’t ruling anything out entirely. “Just come to the Tower, meet the team. If you hate it, you can go back to hiding in your lab and pretending you’re not a genius like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the thought lingered. A new team? A new mission? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. If things went south, you could always disappear back into the shadows. But something in Tony’s tone hinted at urgency, something serious brewing on the horizon. He wasn’t just calling for fun. He needed you.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed off from the desk. “Fine. But this better not be some ploy to get me into an Iron suit.”

Tony’s smirk widened. “No promises.”

The call ended with a flicker of the screen, and you were left standing in the soft hum of your lab, the weight of Tony’s request hanging in the air. You glanced at your half-finished prototype one last time before grabbing your jacket, muttering under your breath, “What have I gotten myself into?”

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Later, at Avengers Tower, you stepped into the grand lobby, the space sprawling before you like something out of a futuristic movie. Towering glass walls reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling effect that made the entire room shimmer. High-tech displays blinked with data and notifications, while sleek metallic accents added to the modernity. It was a world apart from your cozy lab, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how Tony had truly outdone himself with this place. The grandeur was impressive, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, a sense of unease settling in as you stepped further inside.

Just as you took another step, a voice sliced through the air behind you, cool and assessing. “So you’re the sister Tony doesn’t like to talk about.”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding slightly at the sight of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his muscular frame radiating authority. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was an edge to it—a mix of skepticism and something akin to wariness. He looked you up and down, his gaze critical, and you could already sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface. He thought you were just another Stark, another piece in Tony’s ego-driven game.

“And you’re the soldier out of time,” you replied, matching his coolness with your own. The words felt sharper than you intended, a defensive instinct kicking in. “Nice to meet you.”

Steve offered a tight nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t smile. “Tony’s told me a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” you shot back, a hint of a smirk dancing on your lips. But Steve’s expression remained unyielding, the weight of his gaze unwavering.

“I’m not here to judge,” he stated, but his eyes bore into you, steady and measuring, as if he were trying to peel back layers of your identity with sheer will alone. “Just here to see if you’re serious.”

“Serious?” You scoffed, your heart racing with indignation. “About what?”

“About helping, about doing what’s right. We’ve got enough egos on this team.”

Your smirk faded, replaced by a flash of frustration. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know your brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Tony,” you retorted, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension between you crackled in the air, palpable and thick. You hated the feeling of being judged before someone even bothered to know you, and clearly, Steve didn’t like the idea of another Stark stepping into the fold.

For a moment, silence engulfed you, and you could almost hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The intensity of Steve’s gaze felt like a spotlight, and you wondered if he could see through your facade, exposing the vulnerabilities you kept hidden. You could sense his protective instincts flaring, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, and somehow, you felt like an outsider even though you were family.

Just as the tension threatened to spiral further, Tony strolled into the room, an air of nonchalance enveloping him. “Hey, you two! Getting along already?” His grin was impossibly wide, brightening the atmosphere even as it made the air around you feel heavier with unresolved tension.

You shot Tony a glare that could’ve cut through steel. This was not the time for his usual bravado. Steve merely shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to contain a smile. “We’ll see,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on you, as if he were weighing the likelihood of your success in this new venture. Then, with a final, assessing glance, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Great. This is off to a fantastic start,” you muttered under your breath, a mixture of annoyance and apprehension churning inside you. The day had barely begun, and already you could feel the weight of expectation bearing down on you. As the lobby buzzed with the energy of heroes and high-tech innovation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope, teetering between proving yourself and succumbing to the shadows that felt all too familiar.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, reminding yourself that you were here to help. No matter what Steve Rogers thought, you had your own strengths, your own path to carve in this world. You just had to figure out how to make them see that.

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The air in the war room was thick with tension as Tony briefed you on the mission, his voice crisp and urgent. “So here’s the deal: leftover Chitauri tech has been activated by HYDRA operatives in the city. It’s supposed to be a routine clean-up mission, but we know better than to underestimate anything HYDRA gets their hands on.” His brow furrowed, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach knot.

You listened intently, nodding as he laid out the plan. But as he insisted you tag along—even if just to observe and assess—you felt a mix of excitement and dread. You weren’t officially part of the team, yet here you were, being dragged into the chaos by your brother’s unwavering belief in your abilities.

When you arrived at the scene, the streets were already in chaos. The sounds of sirens blared, drowning out the shouts of frantic civilians being evacuated. Smoke billowed into the air, curling around toppled cars and shattered glass. You felt a chill run down your spine as you surveyed the destruction.

Amid the chaos, Steve barked orders at the rest of the team, his authoritative voice cutting through the noise like a beacon of hope. You hung back, monitoring the situation from a mobile unit that Tony had rigged up for you—a lifeline of information in a storm of uncertainty.

“Stay behind the lines!” Steve called out to you over his shoulder, his tone firm as he and Natasha led the charge into the fray.

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and determination bubbling inside you. "I know what I’m doing, Captain," you shot back, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The last thing you wanted was to be coddled like a helpless child.

Just as the fight erupted, the atmosphere shifted. A crackling energy surged through the air, and before you could process the threat, one of the HYDRA operatives unleashed a pulse from the Chitauri device. The wave of electricity shot toward you, a blinding flash of danger that sent adrenaline coursing through your veins.

In that split second, everything shifted. Time seemed to slow as you braced for impact, your instincts screaming at you to move, to do something—anything. But before you could react, Steve surged forward like a force of nature. He slammed his shield into the ground with a resounding thud, creating a barrier that absorbed the surge of energy before it could reach you.

You stumbled back, wide-eyed, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you like a tidal wave. Steve turned to you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. “I said stay behind,” he said, his voice clipped, but there was a hint of protectiveness that made your heart race.

“I had it under control,” you snapped back, though deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. You felt a surge of embarrassment rising within you, the remnants of the adrenaline making you defensive.

Steve didn’t argue further, but his gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to gauge the depths of your resolve. The moment stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, and you could sense a silent acknowledgment between you—this was new territory for both of you, a fragile thread connecting your destinies.

But as quickly as it had come, the moment shattered. With a final look that communicated both concern and determination, Steve charged back into the fray, his shield raised high as he fought against the chaos. You stood there, heart racing, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—frustration, admiration, and a flicker of fear for what lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you refocused on the task at hand. You weren’t going to let this moment define you. You had to prove to yourself, and to Steve, that you belonged here—among heroes and legends. The fight was just beginning, and you were ready to carve your place in it.

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The mission concluded in a flurry of activity and relief, but the tension between you and Steve lingered in the air like an unresolved chord. Back at the Tower, you settled in front of the computer, the glow of the screen casting an almost ethereal light across your face as you replayed footage of the battle. Each frame brought back the chaos—the electricity crackling, the screams of civilians, and Steve’s shield slamming into the ground just in time to save you. The rush of adrenaline from earlier mixed with a more unsettling feeling as you examined the moment you almost lost everything.

As you scrolled through the footage, you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Steve; the weight of his gaze felt palpable, a steady warmth that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the battle you had just fought. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the soft light of the hallway, watching you with a quiet intensity.

“You handled yourself well out there,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere, cutting through the silence that surrounded you.

Surprised, you glanced up at him, momentarily meeting his gaze. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice a mix of pride and humility.

“But next time,” he continued, the firmness returning to his tone, “don’t make me have to save you.”

A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips, a spark of your trademark confidence flaring up in response. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t,” you shot back, your tone light, though beneath it was a current of seriousness.

Steve didn’t respond immediately, his expression shifting as he studied you. In his blue eyes, you caught a flicker of something deeper—perhaps a grudging respect, maybe even a hint of admiration. It made your heart flutter unexpectedly, a rush of warmth that was both thrilling and confusing. The Captain of America saw you, and for a moment, the weight of expectations from being Tony Stark's sister lifted, replaced by a connection that felt genuine.

He nodded once, a subtle acknowledgment of the moment shared between you, before turning to leave. As he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just another fleeting exchange. You were carving out your own space in this team, proving that you were more than just Tony’s sister—you were a force to be reckoned with in your own right.

Left alone in the dim light of the lab, you turned back to the screen, but your thoughts were no longer on the footage. Instead, your mind lingered on Steve’s quiet strength, his unwavering resolve. You were beginning to understand that there was more to him than just the Captain—the man behind the shield had his own battles, his own vulnerabilities.

And you felt an undeniable pull towards him, a sense of camaraderie that was slowly transforming into something deeper. The mission had ended, but the journey was just beginning, and you were more determined than ever to prove yourself—not just to Steve, but to the entire team.

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The mission had been a success, but the moment Steve saw you—Tony’s sister—standing there, he felt the weight of responsibility tugging at his heart. He knew you had potential; he’d seen you handle yourself with surprising skill, but he wasn’t prepared for how much the little spark in your eyes got under his skin.

Leaning against the doorway, he watched you replay the footage of the battle. You were focused, your brow furrowed in concentration, and it captivated him. You radiated a unique blend of confidence and determination, much like your brother, yet with a warmth that was distinctly your own.

When he finally spoke, telling you that you handled yourself well out there, he truly meant it. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a mix of admiration and wariness wash over him. You were Tony’s sister—his little sister. He recalled the stories Tony had told him about your childhood, the sibling rivalry, and how fiercely protective Tony had always been of you. That instinct felt like a wall between them, even as he felt drawn to you.

“Don’t make me have to save you,” he warned, hoping to impress upon you the importance of caution. He had seen too many people underestimate their enemies, and he didn’t want you to be another victim of that recklessness.

Your response—light and teasing—pulled a small smile from him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t.” It was infuriating how effortlessly you seemed to deflect his concern. You had a spark that reminded him of Tony, but there was something more disarming about you. Something that made it hard for him to maintain his composure.

He nodded, more to himself than to you, before he turned to leave. He didn’t want to admit how much your presence affected him, how he found you attractive in a way that made him question everything he knew about focusing on the mission. But he also understood that getting involved with Tony’s sister could complicate things—complicate his already tangled life.

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As the days turned into weeks, you became a more permanent fixture in the Tower, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic team dynamic. Watching you interact with the others was eye-opening. You had Tony’s quick wit, but there was a warmth in your approach that brought out the best in everyone.

He remembered a moment during a team meeting when Clint made a joke at your expense. Without missing a beat, you shot back, “If you’re going to insult me, at least make it clever.” The room erupted in laughter, and Steve found himself chuckling along, secretly impressed by your tenacity.

But the more time he spent with you, the more he struggled with his feelings. You were intelligent, fiercely capable, and incredibly brave—qualities he admired. Yet every time he looked at you, he felt the ghost of Tony’s protective nature hovering over them. He could practically hear Tony warning him to keep his distance, reminding him that you were off-limits. It was a mental tug-of-war, and every glance between them only heightened his awareness of how close they were getting.

One evening, you both worked late in the lab. He caught you watching him as he threw punches at a training dummy, a curious smile dancing on your lips. It was a moment of connection, but it also made his heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you were trouble, yet there was something about you that drew him in, like a moth to a flame.

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a/n : so this is new series im experimenting with!! not proofread. any comments tips suggestions you have would be highly appreciated. happy reading!!

TAGS

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove@bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

[myungjaes-luvv]

I was thinking about bully! Sunghoon or Jay

One day he gets too angry and horny and decides to fuck you in an empty classroom or a bathroom stall! >_<

wow what a BANGER idea🫠anyway i wrote jay for this one hope you like it!

warnings: jay kind of forces himself on reader but it’s consensual anyway, the nickname ‘doll,’ semi-public?, unprotected sex (but its not explicitly mentioned), kind of rushed towards the end because i lost motivation oops

hard hours + requests: open (bnd, enha, &team)

the sound of the school bell rang through the halls as students scramble to get to their next class. you carefully zip your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, leaving the classroom to get to your last class of the day. at least today was almost over.

you kept to yourself mostly, having a bad tendency of looking at the floor as you walked, avoiding any and all eye contact. you also zoned out…a lot.

you were mid thought, wanting to go home already, to leave this hell on earth when-

“shit- sorry!” you apologized frantically, your notebook flying out of your hands and onto the floor. you didn’t even know who you were apologizing to until you looked up.

fuck.

of all the people you could have ran into, it had to be him.

“watch where you’re going, christ,” jay scoffed at you, watching you kneel down to pick your notebook up.

“sorry…i wasn’t looking-” you tried, but he cut you off.

“yeah, obviously. fucking klutz,” he rolled his eyes as you stood back up.

you went to walk past him to carry on from this horrible interaction but he had blocked you, putting his arm in front of you and pushing you back.

“hey- wait, what are you doing?” you asked him.

you looked up at him, making eye contact with him, confused, and maybe a little scared.

“i think it’s about time i finally put you in your goddamn place,” he scoffed at you.

you were about to protest or ask a question but you didn’t have time to even gather your thoughts before he was shoving you backwards into a dark and empty room, shutting the door behind the both of you.

“what the fuck are you doing jay?” you asked, more scared of your bully now than you ever have been before.

“easy, doll,” he said, sounding way too calm for the situation he has you in.

he soon enough had you backed to the wall, his hands on your hips as your bodies were impossibly close.

this was…weird, and wrong. so incredibly wrong…but why was it so incredibly hot.

you could feel his breath against your skin as his lips just barely grazed over your neck.

“jay what are you-” you tried, but were cut off when he pressed a harsh kiss to your lips. your eyes were wide open as you tried pushing him away, still confused out of your mind as to what was happening.

“damnit, i said i’m putting you in your place, can’t you listen to me?” he said, his voice low.

as if your body had a mind of it’s own, you nodded. why on earth did you nod.

it wasn’t long before he began to palm at your clothed core, you could feel the heat radiating off of you as you bit back a whine.

“wanted you for so long…” he said, hooking his finger into the waistband of your pants and pulling down.

“gonna finally take what’s mine, right, doll?” he asked, though you knew it wasn’t a question you were meant to answer.

his finger slipped between your folds, made easy by how wet you had become. you cursed your body for being so willing for him, feeling as though you had betrayed yourself.

you whined softly as he leaned in close to your ear, “all that because of me?” he teased.

you had a dying urge to push him off of you, but something inside was screaming to let him keep going.

he played with you for what felt like ages before he finally slipped a finger into your entrance, making your legs nearly buckle.

“already needing my help to stand?” he asked, his free hand on your hip to help support you.

you bit back another whine, “fuck…” you said beneath your breath.

he removed his finger, causing you to whine. it wasn’t long before he grabbed your waist and pushed you over one of the desk’s.

he sucked in a sharp breath as he put your ass on display for him, feeling you up. his cock was practically aching to be let free from his pants.

he palmed himself through the material before shuffling his pants down enough to let his dick free from the restraint.

he rubbed himself against your folds, causing you to whine, and not a thought of stopping him was in your mind, so desperate for his cock and you hadn’t even known until now.

“jay, please…” you whimpered.

“that’s right, beg for it,” he said in a low voice.

“please, need you so bad…” you begged him.

he finally slipped inside of you slowly at first.

you gripped the edge of the desk, feeling your legs threaten to give out as he entered you from behind.

he let out a shaky breath himself, “your pussy feels so tight around me, doll…” he commented, starting to push himself in and out of you.

the noises you had started to let out reminded jay of those from a porno, high pitched, whiny, and so fucking hot.

you couldn’t help but start to try and match his pace, fucking yourself back against him. he held your hips and used you for support, driving himself deeper inside of you.

your eyes rolled back as he moved a hand to the front of your pussy and began to rub at your clit.

“gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock,” he teased, speeding his hips up.

you couldn’t even answer or get a thought straight.

“got you so fucked dumb you can’t even speak, so cock hungry,” he said under his breath.

you could feel yourself getting so close, and you craved your release so desperately.

“jay- oh god- fuck…gonna-” you tried between moans.

“go ahead, cum for me, make a mess,” he told you.

after a few more thrusts, you were coming, your legs shaking, needing his full support to keep you up against the desk. he fucked you through it heavenly and as you clenched around him, he neared his release.

“gonna cum, holy shit,” he panted, fucking you roughly, causing your vision to white out.

he pulled out, fucking his fist to get himself to release before coming over your back and your ass, the sight almost enough to get him hard again.

the two of you caught your breath and cleaned yourselves up in almost complete silence, and before he left, you were about to make a comment until he spoke first.

“watch where you’re walking next time, klutz.”

[vampiricgf]

Home Is Where the Heart Is

stepdad leon kennedy x stepdaughter reader

wc: 2k+

warnings: stepcest, masturbation, fingering, intoxication, creampie, hickies, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl), reader is in their twenties but he's older

I need him so bad somebody has to step up and shoot me with a tranquilizer dart or something before I become completely delusional

You sigh as the door clicks behind you, the final death kneel of yet another failed, miserable date. The sound of low, canned tv voices drifts from the living room and you feel yourself deflate even further, not wanting to have to go through the motions of telling your stepfather about yet another boring, unfulfilling date. 

Maybe I should just throw my phone in a fucking river and become a crazy hermit-

“Hey, you just get in from the date?” His voice reaches you from around the corner in the foyer and there's no avoiding it. Time to tell him yet again that his step child has basically zero prospects and is doomed to be living here until she’s an ancient crone. Surely he’ll be thrilled about the idea of having to support you forever. 

“Yeah, it was fine.” You shrug, leaning against the wooden open frame of the archway as he meets your gaze and your bag drops from your loose grasp to rest against the wood flooring. He's unfocused, a little disheveled. 

Looks like we’ve both had shit nights if hes already drinking. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he gives you a sympathetic expression, “but plenty of fish in the sea, right?” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” You sigh, turning to make way for the stairs, for the refuge of your bedroom and a few solid hours of unconsciousness where you could pretend you weren���t an embarrassing, lonely burden. “Good night, dad.” 

“Night hon,” you hear from behind you as you ascend to the second floor, debating on if you should wash your face or if you could get away with skipping it for at least tonight. 

Plenty of fish in the sea, yeah easy for him to say. Even if it had always felt weird you knew your stepfather was attractive, good looking and a little mysterious with the whole government agent thing. Not even you really knew the specifics, weren’t sure if even your own mother had known at all before her passing. The sudden thought of her makes your throat tighten up and you decide that yes, you can skip the stupid skincare tonight because sometimes you just have to lay in bed miserable for a bit. 

Maybe masturbating will help, at the very least it’ll get you closer to being exhausted enough to pass out and if Leon is downstairs you don’t have to be as paranoid about noise like you are most nights. 

As you flop against the plush surface of your bed once the door shuts behind you your hand fumbles blindly at the nightstand on your right, searching for the drawer handle. With a huff you prop up on your elbow, yanking it open to reveal the sight of a sleek, glass dildo. It had been a treat purchase, something to reliably cheer you up on nights like this, of which there had been more than you cared to admit to yourself. The only thing you were really sad about, as you peeled off your shirt and slid down your jeans, was that you wasted a nice matching underwear set on no one. 

Eyes closed you let your mind drift as your hands run over your own skin, touching and teasing in just the way you enjoy, already biting your lip at the prospect of wearing yourself out on the little glass toy. But as your fingers brush over the dampness of your underwear, legs spread, you can’t help the way your mind drifts back to him. Your stepfather, all dirty blonde hair and eyes like the tides. It wasn’t fair. If you weren’t related by marriage he would be the type you’d be salivating over, desperate to drag into bed just to let him-

You failed to hear his footsteps on the stairs, failed to hear the doorknob being gripped and the heavy wood being swung open until it was too late. With a strangled cry you scramble back, hands pressed uselessly to your heaving chest, legs squeezed together and eyes wild as you stare at him in the doorway, holding your bag you’d left sitting in the open archway. 

“Oh my god dad-”

“I’m sorry, sorry, you left this and I, I figured you’d want it.” his voice trails weakly, lame, as his eyes look everywhere but at you and your skin burns with embarrassment and something else that makes your ribs feel like they’re being crushed. The secret shame of the fact that you’d been about to finger yourself to the thought of him and now here he is, in the flesh.

“Thanks but can you get out, like right now?” 

Despite your attempt at firmness the words fall flat somehow, betrayed by your still present desire and you can feel it. Feel the way his eyes now stick to you like your body is made of gummy taffy and he’s helplessly caught in the trap of it. The silence extends, growing heavy on the strange tension now gathering in the air like storm clouds. Your nerves are alight in a way that you can only describe as primal, high strung and waiting for some sign, some movement to indicate where this is going because suddenly you’re aware that you’re not the only one in control of it. 

“You’re too good for any of those guys anyway,” he speaks like a man deprived of water for hours, slightly hoarse and you can’t help the little shiver that quakes down your spine at the compliment. 

“Thanks, but… I didn’t mean for you to, you know, see.” 

“I’m sorry,” and hes stepping across the threshold and you know, you know this is descending into dangerous territory. The sort of thing you can’t come back from once it’s started. You feel your lip wobble, feel the familiar sting of tears about to gather in your waterline though from the humiliation or not is unclear. What is clear is that your stepfather at least has a semi at the moment, the slight bulge in his pants stroking your ego. “I could help you, if you want?”

You can hear it, naked desperation, and not for the first time you feel a pang of sympathy for him. You know it’s been hard, lonely, after all this time and not just for you and it’s like your body is suddenly attached to marionette strings, shyly nodding your head and uncurling from yourself. It’s strange, being so conscious now of the underwear you have on and the fact that you’d used a little of that sparkling dust stuff that makes skin look just an extra bit more tempting when it’s on display. 

You wonder if he’s ever thought of you before now, in this way. 

He lifts one knee, moving slowly, pressing down on the mattress next to your trembling legs, and his eyes don’t stop wandering your face, searching for any sign you’ve changed your mind before completely kneeling between your legs that have practically spread themselves. As one of his palms meets the blazing flesh of your thigh you can’t help the gasp that escape you, the way you reflexively move your arms to hug yourself, hide yourself again. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he says it like he’s soothing an anxiety ridden animal but it helps, the familiar affection of his voice immediately making your muscles relax minisculely. “It’s just you and me.”

And those words, just you and me, speak to the now overblown need pooling in your belly and you can’t help the way you unfurl for him, like some night blooming flower with all of it’s most tender parts exposed. The air feels balmy and thick against your skin as his hands, both now grasping your legs, run up and down your thighs in a relaxing rhythm. 

You watch as his eyes flick down to your underwear, you can feel how damp they are and you bite your lip as you see his posture shift as he takes in the sight of your barely clothed pussy, needy and already soaking the thin material. 

“What were you thinking about?” he asks as one index finger starts tracing the hemmed edge of them, barely touching where you ache for him to put his fingers. Your hips squirm in response, trying to move so that his touch will land where you need it. But he can see what you’re doing and evades your attempts, making you whine. 

“If you want me to touch you, you gotta answer.”

“Was thinking about you,” you trail off, hesitant, “I wondered if you think about me.”

Finally he gives you what you want, running his finger over your slit , pressing down right on your throbbing clit just hard enough to make you gasp, your back arching ever so slightly against the mattress. “Shit, you’re so wet.”

He doesn’t answer you and you don’t need him to, already knowing the answer would be that he has and it makes smug satisfaction practically ooze from your body as you preen under his touch. Those calloused, thick fingers slipping past the barrier of your panties, making your mouth drop open and loosely you can recognize that the situation is beyond fucked, getting fingered by your stepfather isn’t something you can just come back from when daylight breaks as if it had never occurred but for now, none of that really matters. 

All that matters is the way his fingers slip inside you so easily, curling just right against your slick walls before pumping in and out, a steady pace as his other hand rubs circles against your hip to calm your twitchy muscles. The sounds of your harsh breathing and the faintly wet squelching of your pussy makes you lightheaded, delirium dripping down the back of your throat and acting like lighter fluid for the kindling of lust inside your gut. 

It feels like you’re being scorched, branded, from the inside out as the pace of his fingers gets more rapid, his thumb pressing against your clit to make you see stars behind your squeezed shut eyes. 

You can hear yourself babbling but it feels distant, far away and dreamlike as the tether between brain and body gets yanked tighter and tighter with each pass of his fingers, unrelenting even as you writhe and gasp against the sheets. 

“Kiss me,” you manage to squeeze the demand from your lungs and he’s quick to oblige, not leave his little girl begging. As your lips pressed together in a mess of rushed teeth clicking and spit slicked movement you feel him pull his fingers from you, hurriedly pulling down his waistband just enough for his cock to spring free. 

And you’re so eager for him, hand snaking down between your bodies to wrap your hand around his shaft and the moment you do he buries his face against the side of your neck with a groan, hips jerking as your thumb smears the fat beads of precum over the tip that you’re sure must be all flushed, a pretty shade of pink. His other hand is pulling your panties to the side and you know what he’s asking for without a word, rubbing the tip through your wetness as he shudders against you, teeth scraping the delicate skin of your throat. 

Feeling bold you angle your hips upward at just the moment when he moves his hips to push through your folds, but the motion makes his tip push deliciously against your entrance, the slide made effortless by the way he’d worked your pussy just moments ago. 

The feeling of it, being so completely full of him, the way he crowded every sense from sight to sound to touch was transendant. Rapturous, like being made whole after not even realizing you’d been incomplete, not realizing there was an entire missing piece. 

And suddenly any remaining guilt you felt for this vanished, dissipated like a wisp of smoke being blown away from a freshly extinguished candle. All that mattered in the world was the present moment, the two of you in this bed and your eyes rolling back as your spine arched at the feeling of him bottoming out inside you, the way he sucked at your neck in between little nips from his incisors. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he gasped against you, moving from yout neck to your lips as his hips began to move, caging your head with his forearms. 

You can’t make your mouth form words, tongue feeling heavy and useless as a wad of cotton in your mouth as you moan in response, fingers twisting into the material of his shirt as you urge him on and the edges of your mind fray with every hit of his tip against the spot you can usually only reach with the dildo in your bedside drawer. 

His rhythm is sloppy, nonsensical, but you don’t mind, not when your own fingers are circling your clit just the way you like and you can feel yourself tightening around him, feel the way your bodys pulling him back in voraciously. This was what you needed, not some random asshole from an app that wouldn’t be able to fuck you half as well, no. A part of you always knew your stepfather would take better care of you, he always has. 

“Want you to come inside, please,” you whine out and hear his little oh fuck muffled against your mouth as you swallowed down his groans like they were the finest vintage as your own orgasm rushed in, like high tide when you least expect it, flooding the shoreline in a relentless barrage. It’s not hard to tell he’s particularly powerless against the way your pussy squeezes around him, growing ever tighter like you’re trying to wring every drop from his body and gives it to you readily, eagerly, with one last harsh thrust before his balls rest heavily against your ass and hes panting, struggling for breath against you as you feel warmth spreading, flooding hot and sticky inside as you two stay locked together. 

When the sun comes up, maybe you’ll feel a modicum of shame for what happened but in this moment all you can feel is a boneless type of bliss as his arms slide underneath you, hold you tight against him in a perverse pantomime of a hug with his cock still inside you as he mumbles into your hair. 

“You’re such a good girl, always been my good girl.”

[satoruwiki]

Naoya nsfw and sfw relationship headcanons pleeeaasse . He's a terribly guilty pleasure and not many people write him (probably because he's a toxic sh*t)

omg anon you’re so right bc who would want an absolute toxic misogynistic fuck of a man (me, i do/j) i was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgor, sorry! btw i may or may not be working a second version of the atrocious fic i did a few days ago abt him… if its of anybody’s interest…

͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏ ♡₊˚ Naoya is the type of man to…𓈒 ˚ ⟡

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; glimpse of the horrors you’d be going through as his partner lol

n/a: i’m making more content for naoya than my glorious blue eyed king lmao ;-;

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… spoil you rotten. Not because you deserve it—maybe you do—but because one of Naoya’s biggest weaknesses is his pride and reputation, and yours affects his. He can’t have his gf/fiancée/wife wearing low-quality or average clothing, you have to look worthy of him (at least on the outside). So he will gift you kimonos made with the finest fabric and the finest accessories to pair with. If you’re smart enough, you might be able to take advantage of that and manipulate him to buy you whatever you want, but you better be kissing the soil he walks on afterwards.

Naoya is the type of man to… be overprotective and ridiculously jealous. You won’t be able to go out by yourself. Not without him being there or at least one of his servants, what if another man tries to have a conversation with you? What if you flirt back? He doesn’t trust you or anyone but himself. He has to make sure you aren’t fooling around. Besides, you’re so weak—or at least that’s what he thinks—you need someone to protect you. What if someone disrespects you? He can’t let that slide, the only one allowed to treat you poorly is him.

Naoya is the type of man to… secretly like your praises. He won’t tell you, of course, but he does like having someone recognizing his strength—the main reason he’s so protective of you, trying to look like a knight in shining armour—and how great he is on his day-to-day basis. He will be pissed whenever you get mad at him and don’t praise him. He won’t say it directly nor apologize for whatever he did, but you might find an ‘apology’ gift on your side of the bed. If it’s a mistake you did—which to him is always going to be your fault—an easy way to get him to be in a better mood is stroking his ego with lots of praise.

Naoya is the type of man to… expect you to be the perfect wife. Naoya is a very demanding man, he expects nothing but perfection. He expects you to always look pretty, cook, and clean, like your typical traditional wife. Being a conservative man, he will expect you to not speak when gathering with the other clansmen—or outside in general—unless you’re allowed to. It’s for your good, he’d hate for you to embarrass yourself.

Naoya is the type of man to… only marry you for benefits. In matters of love, he is quite unfeeling, however, to maintain his position as the head of the Hei, he must get married and have offspring. This burden, as he would call it, is likely to be done through an arranged marriage. Just because you were chosen over the other bachelorettes doesn't necessarily mean you're at the same level as him—you will always be below him, and perhaps unworthy of him to his eyes—but you're definitely better than the rest, or at least you were the prettiest one. You might be of use to him.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… degrade the hell out of you. Naoya’s degradation IS NOT for the weak. If he already treats you relatively poorly daily, it gets worse when he fucks you. He’s also going to fuck you rough, so don’t even try to ask him to go slower, he won’t comply. Don’t worry though, he might make sure that you cum (even to the point of overstimulating you) as it boosts up his ego, it makes him think he’s so good he can have his partner squirting for him and begging for more—this is only when he's in a good mood though, otherwise, he couldn't care less if you cum or not.

Naoya is the type of man to… head push you on purpose for you to gag on his dick. He likes the messy and filthy look on your tear streaked face and drool running down your chin, it makes him want to shoot his load on you (which he will).

Naoya is the type of man to… slap you, during or outside sex. Naoya is very ill-tempered, he’s prone to get physical and slap you (just look at how he used to bully maki and mai) or have angry sex with you. Whether it was your fault or someone else’s, he’ll blow off some steam fucking you stupid, and expect you to have bruises frequently.

Naoya is the type of man to… punish you while fucking. Like I said before, Naoya is very prone to angry sex and will punish you as he fucks you. Expect lots of choking, spitting, clit and face slapping and probably your ass bruised as well as your scalp, he wont take in consideration of his strength and yank it hard.

Naoya is the type of man to… use you as his cum dumpster. He doesn’t care if you’re in the mood or not, that’s what you’re there for, basically. He just got back from a meeting with the clansmen and he’s stressed? Get on your knees and suck him off. He's mad? Bend over or spread your legs. You better not object or make any sort of complaint, just take it like a good girl. Chances are that you end up pregnant (because he’s the type to forbid you from using birth control), he hopes it's a boy or he’s gonna blame it on you. (even if he’s the one responsible for the baby’s gender but ok)

Naoya is the type of man to… have a feet kink. I literally have no explanation for this one, just look at his face and tell me he does not have a thing for feet 😭

[biblomaniac]

Supercorp headcanon:

Kara is ready to combust.

Everyday this week has been complete torment, but in a delicious way.

On Sunday, Lena wore an A-line floral dress to a brunch The Foundation hosted to promote its new Girls in STEM program.

On Monday, Lena showed up to CatCo for lunch with Kara in black slacks and a waistcoat, with a deep purple silk blouse underneath. Kara had to restrain herself from running her hand up and down the back of Lena’s blouse during their customary hug of greeting.

On Tuesday, the forest green dress Lena wore hugged her curves so well Kara couldn’t help but stare everytime she caught a glance of it across the room.

On Wednesday, a Hellgrammite started a fire in the business district that required the Superfriends help. J’onn, Lena, and Brainy stayed at the Tower as support for Supergirl, Dreamer, Sentinel, and Guardian. Four hours after the initial emergency alert, Supergirl flew into the tower through the balcony. She couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and maybe order some Chinese for dinner. But first, she had to write a debrief of her final saves from the day.

“Hey, darling. Are you ready to go?”

“Lena, hi! I’m almost—“ Kara starts to answer, but abruptly stops when she looks to the side and is eye level with Lena’s chest. “—done.”

The blue low-cut blouse Lena is sporting has left a considerable amount of cleavage exposed. Kara’s heart thunders, her face flushes, and her hand’s clench tightly to keep from reaching out to Lena. Unfortunately, the table under her grip isn’t prepared for the brunt of Kara’s Kryptonian strength, leaving two holes of twisted metal.

“…Oops.”

On Thursday, when Kara got to Lena’s penthouse, she found Lena snuggled on the couch in her National City University sweatshirt. The shirt was at least two sizes too large on Lena, giving it an oversized look. Kara’s eyes zeroed in on long, pale legs when Lena stood to greet the blonde with a hug.

After their hug, Lena moved into the Kitchen to gather snacks for their movie night. Without her heels, Lena had to tip toe to reach the Oreos on the second shelf.

“Darling, I can’t reach,” Lena huffed. When Kara turned to help, all the blood rushed to her head when she saw the former CEO’s nearly nonexistent short’s patterned with Supergirls crest.

Kara crossed the room on wobbly legs, reaching over the brunettes head to grab the Oreos, crackers, tea, and anything else from the top shelf Lena may need. If she takes a moment to glance down at her crest running along Lena’s ass and hips, well, she’ll just keep that little secret to herself.

On Friday, Lena wore black leggings and a soft white sweater to game night. Lena looked so soft and docile with her hair down, minimal makeup, and fuzzy socks. Kara couldn’t help but tuck her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her sweet scent during their hug.

“Are you okay, darling,” Lena quietly asked as she moved one hand to cradle Kara’s head closer, while the other clutched onto strong broad shoulders.

“Fine, I’m fine. I just missed you.” Kara admitted.

“We saw each other last night, Kara.” Lena chuckled, moving to release Kara. The blonde wasn’t ready to let go, but did so anyway. Dropping her arms from Lena’s waist, Kara grabbed her hand and leading Lena to their favorite spot for game night.

On Saturday, it all finally comes to a head. The whole gang is out at Al’s Bar, enjoying the first night they’ve all been able to meet in what feels like years.

Lena looks stunning, dressed down in tight black ripped skinny jeans, a red crop top, brown leather jacket and black pumps. Their table had been crowded, and Lena made the executive decision to sit in Kara’s lap to “save space” for M’gann, who would be joining their group after her shift.

The drinks had been flowing steady all night, leaving everyone at least a bit tipsy. Kara had even indulged herself with an Aldebaran Rum and Coke. She sips slowly, remembering how it felt to be drunk the last time she had this drink. Lena’s proximity plus the alcohol is a heady combination.

By the time Kara is halfway through her drink, her left arm has snaked across Lena’s stomach, open palm holding the brunette close to her chest, while her right hand alternates between Lena’s thigh and her cup. Kara is hardly paying attention to the conversation, focused mainly on how close Lena is, how her hair smells like vanilla and honey, or how her heartbeat sounds strong and steady.

“Corazón, let’s go dancing!” Andrea exclaimed, pulling Lena to the dance floor.

Ugh, Andrea. It’s not that Kara dislikes her former boss, per se. The blonde just prefers that Kara and Lena time is not interrupted.

All week, Andrea has been popping up wherever Lena is. She stuck to Lena’s side during the entire Sunday brunch; called Lena for a meeting in the middle of Monday’s lunch date; was present for every single round Lena walked after Tuesday’s press conference; popped into the tower after Acrata helped with the fire on Wednesday; Thursdays movie night was interrupted when Andrea texted Lena about a “fashion emergency,” regarding a dinner she was going to; Andrea came halfway through game night on Friday, stealing Lena as her game partner and leaving Kara to third-wheel Alex and Kelly for the rest of the night.

Kara watches as Lena and Andrea move through the crowd of bodies to find a spot to dance in.

“You should just ask her out,” Alex leans over the the table to whisper-shout, her fourth beer clutched in her hand.

“Who?” Kara asks, trying hard to seem nonchalant.

“Lena, you dolt. We can all see clear as day how you two feel about each other. Put your big girls pants on and talk to her!”

“I don’t—I can’t, Alex. What if she rejects me? Our friendship just recovered, I can’t risk it asking for something I don’t deserve,” she laments, circling the rim of her glass with her finger.

“What about what Lena deserves? She cares about you, Kara. It’s been years of you two dancing around this thing.” Alex says.

“We aren’t dancing around anything, Al. She won’t want me, she doesn’t—“ the rest of her words die in her mouth as she catches a glance of Lena and Andrea on the dance floor. Lena’s back is pressed to Andrea’s front as the move to the beat of the music. When the song changes, Lena turns in Andrea’s grasp, standing chest to chest.

The glass in Kara’s grip shatters, spraying glass across the table. Thankfully, Kara’s cup was nearly empty.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll clean this up,” Kara said, using multiple napkins to collect the shards of glass.

Alex laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. “Kara, stop being a wimp and talk to her before Andrea asks her out again.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right. I can do this, I got this.” Kara nods her head determinedly, chugs what remains of Alex’s beer and stands to make her way to Lena. As she navigates her way toward her hearts desire, she see’s Andrea’s hand lowering from its position on Lena’s back to rest on her ass. All conscious thought leaves Kara’s head as she quickens her pace just short of SuperSpeed to reach Lena.

“Lee—“

***************************************************

“Corazón, let’s go dancing!” Andrea exclaimed, pulling Lena to the dance floor.

“Drea, what are you doing?” Lena’s asks as she follows Andrea out to the floor.

“I’m helping you, Lena. If we get Kara jealous, she’ll stop acting like such a Girl Scout and finally make a move,” Andrea says, waving off Lena’s concern.

Lena stops walking and starts swaying at Andrea’s insistence, matching her moves seamlessly. It feels just like boarding school, with Andrea leading Lena by the hips. “I don’t know, Drea. You’ve been interfering all week and she hasn’t said so much as a peep. I don’t think she has feelings for me.”

“Joder, las dos son tan despistadas. She will! She has been jealous all week! We just have to step up our game,” Andrea exclaims in exasperation, turning Lena so that the brunettes back rests against her chest.

“Look at her, she’s glaring right at us! When the song changes, I’ll grab your ass and this will all be over,” Andrea laughs.

“Andrea! This is ridiculous. What does Sam think about this whole situation; shouldn’t you be worried about what she’ll say?”

“What’s between Samantha and I is none of your concern, Corazón. But if you must know, she told me, and I quote, “I hope it works so Kara can grow a pair—“

“Hey!”

“—I’m sure she won’t be bothered by what means I use to help you both along.”

“You know what? Fine, whatever. When it doesn’t work I don’t ever want to talk about this to either of you ever again.” Lena mutters, thoroughly embarrassed and ready to call a quits to their plan.

“I reserve the right to tease you both when it does,” Andrea replies, turning Lena around at the song change and moving one hand to grasp Lena at the ass.

“Kara’s coming; I told you this would work! Play cool,” Andrea says.

As Kara closes the final distance, she reaches a hand out to Lena, touching her on the shoulder, intent to end whatever this is between her and Andrea.

“Lee, mind if I cut in,” Kara asks sharply. Lena gives Andrea a glance, dismissing her wordlessly as she accepts Kara’s hand.

“I’m gonna step outside to take a call. Lena, call me later if you want to…talk,” Andrea imparts with a sly smile before moving to exit the bar. Kara glares daggers at Andrea’s retreating form.

“Hi, darling. How are you?” Lena asks, watching Kara’s face transform from a scowl to a happy grin.

“Better now that you’re with me,” Kara says pulling Lena closer by the waist. That Aldebaran rum may have given her a bit of confidence, but she won’t do anything Lena doesn’t want. “Is this okay?”

“Of course, darling. Are you okay; you looked a bit frazzled when you came over.” Lena wraps her arms over broad shoulders, admiring Kara’s beauty as they slowly grow closer to one another.

“Yes, yes. I was just a bit nervous, I guess.” Kara ducks her head at the admission, blushing.

Nervous? Odd. Kara may not be as outwardly imposing as Supergirl, but she is hardly nervous since her reveal to the world as being Supergirl. The synergy of Kara Zor-El encompasses both Kara Dancers and Supergirl, but without the necessity to hide behind one mask or the other.

Lena can’t hide the surprise in her voice, “What do you have to be nervous about?”

“I just—I want to be Andrea—“

“You want to be Andrea?!”

It seems the rum has also compromised her ability to articulate clearly.

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant. I want to be in her place with you. I’ve been…jealous. She’s interrupted our time together everyday and just now she was…” Kara bites her lip, turning her head to look away.

Lena bends to the side, trying but failing to catch Kara’s gaze.

“She was what, Kara. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Kara is jealous. It almost seems too good to be true. Maybe Andrea’s plan will work after all.

Kara lifts her head, piercing blue eyes gazing into Lena’s own. “She was touching you! Holding you! I don’t want her to do that, Lena. I want, I want to do that.” Kara states with conviction, voice hardening determinately.

Kara thinks she’s overstepped when Lenas arms loosen from around her neck. She prepares to apologize, heart breaking at the thought of Lena turning her down. That is, until Lena reaches for her hands, dragging them from their purchase on her hips to rest just above her ass.

“You want to hold me like this?” Lena whispers, head tilted and pupils dilating. “You can Kara, you can touch me however you want.”

The blonde moves her hands down tentatively, looking for any signs of unease. “When she doesn’t find any, she palms at Lena’s ass, pulling her forward and holding tight. “This okay?”

“Perfect, darling; keep going.” Lena noses at Kara’s neck, interested to see how far this will go.

Kara starts to dance, leading Lena along to the thumping beat. She feels a new kind of thrill, so unlike the one she gets from being Supergirl. There is a hot, pulsating feeling running through her veins.

The superhero tilts her head down to lay a kiss on Lena’s temple. “This okay,” she asks, internally begging for Lena to want more.

“Keep going.”

Kara starts to lay soft kisses down the side of Lena’s face, hands still kneading her supple behind. When she reaches the brunettes jaw, she noses her way along the skin back up to her ear. She lays one more kiss on the shell of her ear before she whispers, “More?”

“More.” Lena says, nearly panting under Kara’s ministration.

The blonde drops her face to the crook of the shorter woman’s neck, placing a kiss on each pulse point before laying a third on the beauty mark at the center of Lena’s throat.

Lena reaches up, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of Kara’s neck, while the other holds firmly to a bulging bicep. “Keep going, darling,” Lena rasps.

Tentatively, Kara laves her tongue against the mark. At the sound of Lena’s quiet moan, Kara sucks at the mark. When she pulls away, there is a blossoming patch of red over the skin.

Kara touches her forehead lightly to Lena’s, gazing into verdant eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Kara implores, cerulean eyes glassy and wanting.

“Please,” Lena supplicates, leaning forward ever so slightly.

Without further ado, the blonde presses her mouth firmly to the red painted lips in front of her. It isn’t long before the brunettes tongue runs across her lips seeking entrance into her mouth.

*********************************************

“Did it work?”

“Of course it did, Tesoro.” Andrea answers into the phone.

“Fucking finally. I’ll call Lena in the morning and get all the dirty details. Now that that’s taken care of, when are you gonna come see me?” Sam implores.

“I thought you were coming here next weekend?”

“ I am, but Ruby’s at summer camp for the rest of the week. I thought you could come spend some time here in Metropolis before we fly to National City.”

“Well, what’s in it for me,” Andrea flirts, already looking for red eye flights out east.

“You, me, an empty apartment, and all the time in the world to do whatever we please.”

“Promise me we can do that thing I like and I’ll be there in the morning.” Andrea knows she’s pushing her luck, but there’s nothing sweeter than a little pain with pleasure.

“Oh, baby, we can do whatever you want—” Samantha starts, voice sickly sweet, “—if you get here before dawn,” she finishes, voice low and demanding.

“Done.”

[luveline]

hi lovely :) i have a request for you!!

i’m thinking spencer reid x reader (and platonic!bau team if you don’t mind!!) where reader is having a bit of a rough time with mental health, but is 1 year clean and they have a lil celebration? thank you!!

-🍓 (this is my application for being an emoji anon lmao)

hi, thank you! ♡ fem 1k

cw implied drug use

You're expecting your boyfriend's voice when a hand touches your shoulder, but it's actually Hotch that speaks. "Good morning. Are you feeling alright?" 

You meet his furrowed brow with a softer expression. "Morning, Hotch. I'm good, I'm," —you stretch your arms out in front of you in a lie— "just really tired." 

"Take it easy today, okay?" You nod quickly. "Okay. And Y/N? Well done." 

You enjoy the shoulder squeeze he gives you and hide your abject puzzlement as he heads up the steps to his office, briefcase in hand. It's always nice to be doted on, but what's today? 

"Hello," a new voice says, a hand again on your shoulder, ducking down to kiss you behind the ear. Here's your expected boyfriend, Spencer's voice low and spectacularly sweet, "Good morning. You're here early, I haven't even made you coffee." 

"That's okay, I can make it." 

His arms cross over your chest. He touches you so confidently, his lack of hesitance a great encouragement; it's hard to find room to feel insecure about things when Spencer seems to see no faults in you. Hard, but not impossible. 

As though he can sense your rough morning (rough week, rough month), he holds you that second longer than usual, lips like angora silk where they touch to your cheek. "I'll make it, thanks. It's the least you deserve today." 

"Right," you say. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb in farewell, leaving you wondering. Today isn't your birthday, you'd probably know if it were. 

"Hey, good morning!" Emily says as she arrives, thrusting her bag and her travel mug onto her desk before she descends on you. 

It's her hug that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. You give her hands an absent minded hold but pull back in her embrace. "Emily," you say, frowning at her, "what's so special about today?" 

She blinks like she's worried to tell you, but she gets it together and hugs you again. "You're one year clean today. Everybody's so proud of you," she says quietly. 

You almost bite the tip of your tongue off. "How do you know that?" you ask. The thing about staying clean is that it haunts you until it doesn't. Some people can't ever beat it, and some people can. It's been a huge struggle for you, but eventually relapsing stopped feeling like an option, especially while you've been with Spencer. You can't do anything to jeopardise your safety while you're with him, you just can't. (That doesn't mean you haven't desperately wanted to.)

"Well, I knew it would've been around now, but Spencer sent us a memo. Nothing too detailed, you know, but we all…" She smiles at you wryly. "We care about you so much, and we didn't get it right with Spencer." 

No, they didn't. Spencer didn't get half the support he deserved, so he's making sure you do. 

There's something of a mental block in you that doesn't allow you to cry, but this shakes you roughly. Emily gives you a sorry smile and a last quick hug, apologising that she has to go and speak to Hotch before the work day officially begins. You lean back in your chair and click dazedly on an email from Penelope detailing how deeply loved you are and wondering if you'd like to go shopping. I know today might be really hard, so if you need me you know where I am. Love Pen. 

"You okay?" Spencer asks, placing your coffee in front of you on the desk. 

"Come and sit with me for a bit." 

You don't sound like you're asking, but you are. Spencer hears the need in your demand and immediately grabs his chair to sit next to you. You're surprised he didn't squat. 

You turn your face, lay your cheek on the short back of the chair uncomfortably, and take him in. He looks great these days, the memory of a young man firmly buried beneath a well-fitting suit, a cropping of facial hair, and the subtle, lean lines of muscle especially evident as he sits back to copy you, curls falling into his eyes. "You told everyone about my anniversary." 

"Your accomplishment," he corrects quietly. "I did." 

"I do want them to know, just… I feel a bit raw." You hardly remembered yourself, though you knew it was soon. 

Spencer takes your hand, pulling the joined pair between his knees. "It's something to be extremely proud of. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating it." 

"It's embarrassing–" 

"It isn't." He sits up as someone comes closer and you follow suit. This is a complicated conversation and your simple intimacies are necessary but inappropriate in the workplace. "I'm sure there are a ton of people who find sobriety embarrassing, but those are all people who don't know what it feels like to have to do it. We," —his voice softens— "do. I know exactly how it feels, and I know exactly how you've been feeling lately, so I'm proud of you and everyone else should be too." 

"How I've been feeling lately?" you ask. 

"Come on." Spencer stands and takes your face into his hands. One is warmer than the other, and he uses it to stroke the baby hair's at your ear very gently. "You do a really good job at hiding how you feel, but you can't hide from me." 

"I'm not trying to." 

"Good," he says, leaning down to kiss you. A soft, brisk connection. "I love you." 

"Not as much as I do, loverboy!" Morgan says as he arrives, giving Spencer a little nudge as he needles his arms behind your back and kisses your cheek. 

"You're squeezing me." 

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Morgan asks, squeezing your harder. 

"Morgan, she knows you know." 

"Know what?" 

"You didn't see the memo?" Spencer asks. 

"What memo?" Morgan grins at you with pearly white teeth and scrubs at your shoulders until you're squirming at the pressure. It's nice. "Looking good, gorgeous." 

[httpvomitello]

hey so how do you think raphael would deal with a s/o who normally just broods and sulks when they are upset about something. But he sees them actually express anger for once and when they’re alone, he’s just like “you’re attractive when you’re angry” and s/o anger dies and they’re left with confusion, “huh?”?

Well... I think at first he would want to punch the person responsible for making they sad 🥹

Anyways, i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Angry Attraction *⁠.⁠✧

Raphael knew when something was off. He might not have been as tuned in to emotions as Leo or Mikey, but he could sense when someone was upset. And right now, they were upset.

Normally, his partner wasn't the type to blow up. They brooded, sulked, shut down, classic signs of someone who stewed on things for too long. Raphael had gotten used to it, offering grunts of support or the occasional “You okay?” that usually led to a half-hearted shrug from them. They were just like that, and honestly, he got it. Raph wasn’t exactly known for opening up either.

But today was different.

They’d been quiet all day, more than usual. Raph thought it was just one of their moods until something set them off. One of the brothers said something, it didn’t even seem that bad to him, but suddenly, they snapped. Words flew out of their mouth in a sharp, heated rant, their usual calm demeanor nowhere to be found. Their face was flushed, eyes blazing with anger, and Raphael just stood there, dumbfounded. He’d never seen them like this.

Once they were done, there was an awkward silence in the lair. Leo cleared his throat, Donnie muttered something about needing to work on a project, and Mikey awkwardly suggested pizza, but Raph didn’t move. He kept his eyes on them, watching the way their chest rose and fell with each deep breath, their fists clenched and trembling.

“Raph,” they muttered, rubbing their forehead, clearly embarrassed by their own outburst. “I... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Nah,” Raph cut them off, his voice low but casual. He wasn’t angry, far from it. In fact, as he looked at them, still fired up, something about their anger caught his attention in a way he didn’t expect. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he crossed his arms. “You’re hot when you’re angry, y’know that?”

They blinked, the remaining tension draining from their body in an instant. “Huh?”

Raphael chuckled, stepping closer. “What? It’s true.” He shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You got this fire in you. Didn’t know you had it in ya. It’s... I dunno, kinda hot.”

They stood there, frozen, their anger now fully replaced by confusion. “Wait... what?”

Raph just smirked again, leaning against the wall next to them. “You heard me.” He glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. “Look, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind you brooding and all, but... that? That was kinda cool to see.”

Their face softened, the earlier frustration long forgotten as they processed what he was saying. “You’re not... mad? I thought I overreacted.”

Raph shook his head. “Nah. You needed to get it out, right? It’s better than holdin’ it all in.” His voice took on a rare note of seriousness. “Trust me, I know.”

They stood quietly for a moment, absorbing his words. Finally, they sighed, the weight of their earlier anger lifting. “I guess I just... didn’t expect you to say that,” they admitted, their tone softer now.

Raphael smirked again, this time a little gentler. “Hey, I like seein’ new sides of you. Keeps things... interesting.”

They couldn’t help but smile at that, their confusion melting away into something warmer. Raphael, for all his roughness, had a way of cutting through their walls when they least expected it. He might not always say the right thing, but somehow, he always managed to make them feel better.

“Thanks, Raph,” they said quietly, leaning into him.

He just grunted in response, but the way he slung an arm over their shoulders spoke louder than words.

[softhairedhotch]

AHHHH FIRST FIC OF COMFORTEMBER YEAHHHH >:D comfortember day one: safe aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader after having a rough night out, you call aaron and he rushes to find you immediately. he fixes you up and the two of you finally admit how you feel about each other. word count: 1.5k warnings/content: mentions of fighting and alcohol but mostly fluff.

comfortember masterlist here! also on ao3 <3

you make me feel safe

Aaron wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing beside him. It gets to the fourth or fifth ring by the time he grabs it and anxiety bubbles low in his gut when he realises it’s you calling at almost three in the morning. Answering the phone, he immediately asks, “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

He’s up and out of bed instantly, throwing on the first shirt he finds and the closest shoes to the bed. “Tell me where you are.”

“I’m at, uh, I don’t, I’m… somewhere. My mind is all over the place.”

Aaron’s heart hammers widely in his chest. “Somewhere? Can you look around for me and see if you recognise something? Anything?”

“Okay,” you reply, voice shaky. After a few moments, you clear your throat. “I’m outside the bar we all went to a few weeks ago.”

“The Tipsy Ship? The one closest to work?” 

“Y-yeah, yeah.”

Aaron grabs his keys and runs out of his house, not even thinking about locking the door as he runs toward his car. Jack is sleeping over at JJ's; the house will be fine unattended for now. “I’m on my way. Are you hurt?”

“I think so.”

“You think–” Aaron stops to take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before shoving his phone into its holder and slamming his car door shut. “Don’t worry, I’m on my way.”

“Can you stay on the line with me?”

“Of course.”

***

When Aaron reaches the bar, his heart breaks at the sight of you standing alone outside. He tenses up once he notices that, not only are you alone, but dry blood covers your face, there’s a large bruise forming on your cheek, and the knuckles of your dominant hand are cracked and bloody. “God,” he mutters, running straight for you and grabbing you by the shoulders. He can smell an overpowering scent of alcohol on you and he winces. “What happened? Where’s the bastard that did this to you?”

You point toward an ambulance down the road. “The coward freaked out when I punched him back and thought he needed medical attention. Most they’re gonna diagnose him with is Dumbassery and Stupid Prick Disease.” You look back at Aaron and weakly smile. “And maybe a concussion.”

Aaron can’t help it, he laughs. “At least you haven't lost your sense of humour. But let's get you home and cleaned up, alright?” 

“Can I go to yours? I don’t really wanna be alone right now.”

He smiles. “Of course you can.”

***

Aaron holds a wet cloth to your face, reaching out to grab your chin between his fingers gently when you flinch away. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s cold, is all.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, gently dabbing away the dried blood under your nose and the corner of your lips. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I got into a fight.”

“I can see that.”

You shrug, stumbling on your feet at the movement. Aaron gently grabs you by your elbow and shuffles you toward the kitchen counter so that you’re leaning against it for support. Once you’re stable, he begins to dab the other side of the cloth over your knuckles. “It was stupid, really.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” you sigh. It’s quiet for a few moments as you watch Aaron continue to clean up the blood. “He… the guy who punched me… I was on a date with him.” Aaron tenses. “And he kept buying me drinks and told me I had to drink them. I did because, well, free drinks, y’know?” You sigh and shake your head again, letting out a groan when it results in pain. “So stupid of me.”

“Hey, none of that. You’re not stupid.”

“Whatever you say. Anyway, I think he was trying to make sure I was drunk enough so that he could take me home without much complaint. I don’t know. I refused because I really wasn’t in the, uh, mood, and the night was a bust anyway, and he started… tryna touch me, grab me and all that, his hands were everywhere and I didn’t want them to be and…” You stop to take a few deep breaths, feeling sick at the thought of what could have happened. Aaron feels anger rip through his veins. “Anyway, he ended up punching me and I guess he wasn’t expecting me to punch back.”

Aaron grits his teeth. "Twice as hard, yeah?" 

"Twice as hard," you grin. 

“Good. That’s what I expect to hear.”

You tilt your head at him, trying to read his expression. “You’re not mad at me?”

Confused, his eyes meet yours. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, watching as his large hand moves over yours, his thumb gently sweeping over your skin. “I woke you up.”

“You woke– You– That’s what you’re worried about?” He gives you a fond look. “Yes, you woke me up. But I’m glad you did. Thank you for calling me. And for trusting me to help you.”

“I don’t think I trust anyone more than I trust you.”

Aaron’s hand stills as the words sink in. When he looks up at you, he notices that you’re staring at him with so much love that his breath catches in his throat. He hasn’t been looked at like that in… he can’t even remember. But when he thinks about it, eyes never leaving yours as you blink innocently at him, not understanding his revelation at that moment, he realises it’s the way you’ve always looked at him. With complete and utter adoration. 

As if he hung the moon and the stars.

“Oh,” is all he can get out.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Oh.”

Your face falls and he feels guilt grow deep in his gut. “You don’t trust me back?”

“What? I never said that.” He steps closer, moving a hand to your shoulder and looking into your eyes. “Of course I trust you. More than most people. More than anyone else, really.”

“Really?”

His eyes search yours and he nods firmly, squeezing your shoulder. “Really.”

You look all over his face before looking down at his lips, licking your own as your mouth immediately goes dry. “I didn't want… I… I didn't go home with that guy because of, uh, well, you. I couldn’t stop thinking of you... when I was with him.”

Aaron hums as his gaze drops to your lips. “That’s why I don’t go on dates.”

“Hm?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.” He inches closer, moving a warm hand up to cup your cheek. “Can I kiss y–"

“Yea–"

And your lips are pressed together before either of you can finish. The kiss is soft, sweet, gentle, and full of so much raw emotion that it’s almost suffocating (in the best way). Aaron moves his lips against yours desperately, holding your face in his large calloused hands as if you might break at any moment, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. The moment your tongue brushes against his bottom lip, though, he pulls back with a heavy sigh. “Shit, you’re drunk. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m totally taking advantage of you and–”

“Aaron.”

“I should know better and–”

“Aaron!”

“You should feel safe here–”

You press your lips against his again, effectively shutting him up. It’s a much shorter kiss this time, but not any less enjoyable. “I do feel safe, Aaron. Here, with you.”

“You do?”

“Of course. You make me feel safe; you always have.”

He visibly relaxes and pulls you into a hug. “So have you.” He sighs against you, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “I like being with you.”

“I like being with you too, Aaron.”

He smiles against you and holds you for a moment more before pulling back, hands still wrapped around you. His heart breaks at the sight of the dark bruise forming on your face and he leans forward to press a tender kiss against the skin, careful not to hurt you in any way. “I wonder how long we’ve liked each other.”

“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, I think.” 

Aaron’s breath hitches at the admission. “You’re in love with me?”

You tilt your head at him, fighting back a smile. “Did I not make that obvious enough?”

“I… didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Well, get them up, Hotchner, because I’m in love with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Aaron’s face softens and he presses a kiss to your cheek, sighing in relief. “I’m in love with you, too.” He runs his hands lovingly over your back. “Now let’s get you changed into some comfortable clothes and into bed, yeah? It seems like we have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

“Can I sleep in your bed with you?” 

He presses another kiss to your cheek. “There’s no other place I’d rather you be, sweetheart.”

tag list: @criminalskies @ssahotchnerr @hotchs-big-hands @citrusiove @sillyhotchsgirl

lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future fics

[jenscx]

BEST I EVER HAD — uchinaga aeri x f!reader

you’ve had enough of your cold and distant girlfriend. finally deciding to turn the tables on her, you hope she learns her lesson.

TAGS — angst but crack, fluff, popular!aeri, slight jealousy, aeri is lowk an attention whore ngl, cursing, mentions of drinking

WORDCOUNT — 2.1k

NOTE ; a celebratory fic for 900 followers, thank you for all the support you guys have given me ♡

aeri and giselle are two different people. giselle; yonsei’s queen bee, the exchange student from japan whose good looks and fiery personality attracts everyone. she’s someone that every student either has a crush on, or wants to be friends with. cold and indifferent, yet still manages to gain the interest of many. some see her as a challenge, others as eye candy for motivation.

you’ve experienced this very persona— her hateful glares, sharp tongue and harsh words. it’s almost a weekly tradition.

on the other hand, she could easily turn back into aeri. your aeri. the one you fell in love with; her kind gestures, sparkling childish eyes and puffy cheeks when she’s acting cute. you’ve experienced this too and you prefer aeri over giselle any day.

it’s unfortunate that giselle seems to be taking over aeri, and you have to say truthfully, that you’ve been disliking your girlfriend more and more.

“y/n,” she mutters, “i’m not doing this with you right now.”

your gaze hardens.

“then when should we do this?” you ask.

aeri— no, giselle scoffs, “we wouldn’t need to be standing out here, in pouring rain, if you would just keep quiet.”

you hate this. you hate her cold, almost frozen words. you hate her distant personality. you hate her unresponsiveness. you hate the disappointment that she makes you feel, the uncaring and unloving side of her.

you hate giselle.

“he was flirting with you. imagine if i wasn’t there, what would he do? put his hands on you? obviously i would say something. you wouldn’t like it if someone was flirting with me right? unnie, can you understand me?”

giselle frowns, “that doesn’t matter. you should have just kept quiet. now it’s gonna be awkward when i go back in.”

you can’t believe her words. you’re standing out in the rain, freezing cold, and she plans to go back into the bar to continue drinking with her friends? and that guy that keeps flirting with her? are his intentions not clear to your girlfriend?

“you’re gonna just go back in? don’t you understand how I’m feeling right now?”

“truthfully, i don’t.”

all you can feel is shame. no longer do you feel disappointment at her words. how could you be disappointed when you had no expectations? you feel ashamed. ashamed for letting yourself be willingly thrown aside for so long. ashamed for letting giselle treat you however she wanted. ashamed that you had such low standards for a partner.

“if you go back into that bar, i can’t promise you that your stuff at my place won’t be thrown out in the garbage.”

giselle widens her eyes— of course, it’s the first time you’ve said this. it’s the first time you’ve managed to fight back against her. you finally realise how much of a dog she’s been treating you.

“y/n, this… are you drunk?”

“no? i think you’re drunk, honestly. you can go back into that bar, it’s your choice. at least when our relationship is over, you’ll blame yourself, not me,” you say tiredly, tossing giselle’s jacket back to her, “you can keep this. i’ll just take public transport.”

your girlfriend, stunned, almost fails to catch her jacket. she’s rooted to the ground, jaw almost dislocated at how hard she’s gaping.

“unnie, go back into that bar, i don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“hey wait,” her voice turns into a worried tone, one you’re painfully familiar with, “darling, are you being serious? you’ll fall sick. the walk back to your apartment isn’t sheltered.”

her eyes are filled with concern, contrast to the aloofness present in them a moment ago. you don’t dare to look at her any longer, for if you do, you might just forgive her too easily.

you turn away from her, only taking a few steps in the rain before getting pulled back.

“y/n, are you being for real? don’t walk in the rain, fuck.”

“when do you care about my well-being? go back to your friends, unnie. i’m tired.”

aeri rubs her neck nervously, her eyebrows furrowing.

“if you’re tired, shouldn’t i call a cab…?” her voice is shaking, wavering at every word that comes out. you take a good look at her.

huh, you think, she sobers up quick.

“unnie,” you finally say, “let’s take a break.”

“what?” she questions incredously.

you purse your lips together, not explaining further.

“i’ll get going now. text me when you reach home,” you say and swiftly jump into a random cab on the street. meanwhile, your girlfriend stands outside the bar, shocked and confused.

“what the fuck did she mean?” aeri cries, “a break? are we breaking up? did we break up?”

minjeong and jimin only exchange glances. yizhuo is the only one who replies, “you’re just too much for her, i guess.”

“her whole personality did a 180 though? and i was being a little stupid but she wants a break? does she not love me anymore?”

the eldest adds in, “maybe it’s a build up, y’know. slowly you just became unappealing to her.”

aeri looks a second away from crying.

“unappealing?!”

“i don’t think unnie meant it like that!” minjeong quickly reassures her, “i think y/n is just taking some time for herself. you were treating her a little unkindly…”

the japanese girl only wails in anguish. her current state was so pitiful that her friends felt bad. they were of course on your side, but aeri was just so depressed that they felt sympathy towards her. she constantly looked like a kicked puppy whenever you’d reject her skinship.

it’s only been a week since you left her at that bar but aeri was struggling hard.

“how do i fix this? she doesn’t even look upset without me…” aeri asks desperately. so desperately that her friends all wince.

“ah… maybe y/n is giving you the same treatment you gave her? i mean, throughout the relationship, she didn’t really complain much even though i think if you were my girlfriend, i would have slapped you already,” yizhuo supplies.

aeri’s head turns so suddenly and sharply that her friends are startled. originally, her face had been on the table, almost sobbing at her now girlfriend-less life. aeri had forced her friends meet her in some starbucks, saying that you and her would always come here.

“fuck,” she mutters, “was i a bad girlfriend?”

“not bad, just questionable.”

“i think you should really talk to y/n and apologise.”

“yeah you were an asshole.” aeri flops back onto the table with a resounding groan.

that’s how aeri ends up on the doorstep of your apartment, flowers in one hand, and takeout from your favourite sushi place in the other.

her heart was beating out of her chest, in fear of your rejection once more. since the day you left, you only replied to a third of her messages, which mostly consisted of her asking if you had eaten or whether you wanted to hang out. you had avoided every chance to see her, except for once when she had showed up at your apartment even after you said you were busy.

aeri didn’t believe that you didn’t miss her. after spending so long together, there wasn’t a chance where you wouldn’t miss your girlfriend, right? aeri was certain that you would have run back into her arms after being distant for a day.

she was terribly wrong.

your socials, story updates, everything, showed no sign of missing her. was this a break? or a break up?

her hands trembled as she reached for your door, knocking on it.

“y/n…” aeri mumbled, “it’s unnie…”

the door almost swung open instantly and aeri was greeted by the sight of you with bed hair, unkempt pyjamas and behind you, bottles of soju accompanied by one of your friends sleeping on the couch.

“aeri unnie? what are you doing here?” you ask.

you looked frazzled. why would she show up randomly? was she here to finally break things off? of course you had already come to terms with it. with the way she was acting, maybe she had already decided to stop caring.

“y/n, i miss you. when will this be over?”

her words shock you. when was your girlfriend ever this open with her affection during your relationship? was it your absence that finally allowed her to see what she was missing?

“i’m sorry unnie, i still need time for myself.”

that were your last words to aeri. the last time she had ever heard your voice in person. after that day, you seemed more determined to avoid her. sometimes even missing lessons that aeri would know of. you had heard from one of your classmates that aeri would stand outside the lecture hall, waiting for you to come out.

her actions seemed so strange to you then. how could your girlfriend suddenly turn into a different person? she was someone who cared deeply for her reputation, so why would she willingly turn into some whipped girlfriend?

maybe you were starting to become a sadist, because whenever your friends would tell you about aeri’s desperation, it only delighted you more.

to say that you were exhilarated to see aeri at your door once again, holding a bouquet of flowers with your favourite food, it was an understatement.

“unnie? what are you doing here?” you ask, grocery bags in your hand.

aeri’s eyes light up when she sees you, her lips twitching into a nervous smile.

“i came here to talk.”

talk? you think, unnie’s so strange. she’s never wanted to talk before.

“ah, you must have been waiting out here long, come in.”

aeri’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest when you invited her in. maybe she could finally beg for your forgiveness…

your apartment seems so refreshing to be in. aeri regrets not cherishing her time spent here enough. the walls are decorated with memories from your childhood to college years. from baby photos to photos with friends and aeri. the bookshelves are lined with books that you have collected from the past few years in yonsei, developing a love for reading after becoming friends with minjeong, who also was a bookworm.

plants that you have cared for surround the living room. everything in your apartment reminded aeri of you. while aeri admires the space, you finish putting away all the groceries and return to the living room, only to see aeri spacing out.

“unnie? are you okay?” you ask. aeri turns to you, teary.

“y/n,” she places the takeout on the coffee table and sits on the couch, eyes reddening, “i’m sorry.”

“huh?”

aeri chokes out, “i’m sorry for being such an asshole to you while we were dating. i don’t know what’s wrong with me. you should have been my first priority, not my reputation, not my friends.”

“unnie, your happiness is your top priority,” you say, sitting down on the couch as well.

“my happiness is you. i don’t know why that took me so long to realise but you’ve always been the one that made me the happiest,” aeri sobs, “i’m so sorry for treating you like that. you deserve way better than how i was. please don’t leave me. i’ll become better for you.”

your girlfriend starts crying into her hands. you start to tear up too, not from sadness but happiness, that she’s finally caring.

“do you want a hug?” you open your arms. aeri almost flies into your embrace, her face sniffling into your collarbone.

you pat her back gently, “all i’ve ever wanted was for you to care. i’m glad you want to be better for me. i won’t leave you.” you want to add an apology in there too, for making her suffer during this break, but it feels like you were going back to your old ways.

“i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too, unnie. i felt really hurt when you threw me aside.”

you can feel aeri’s lips forming a pout, “i’m sorry. i was crazy for throwing away the best thing i ever had. i’m gonna try my best to be the girlfriend that you deserve. if i ever treat you like that again, please slap me.”

“did yizhuo give you that idea?” you ask, amused. it sounded terribly like something the chinese girl would advise.

“how’d you know?”

you both share a laugh and you finally feel that you have aeri in your arms. not giselle. your girlfriend, uchinaga aeri.

[natasaa13]

Bestfriend Sukuna

Being Sukuna’s best friend was both a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, you got to see sides of him that others didn’t. You knew the Sukuna who showed up at your apartment at midnight with greasy takeout after a bad day. The Sukuna who secretly loved watching trashy reality TV and would yell at the screen like his life depended on it. The Sukuna who texted you pictures of stray cats he found on campus, captioned with things like, "This one has your attitude."

But then there was the other side of it. The Sukuna everyone else saw. The cocky, arrogant, and ridiculously hot version of him that had people throwing themselves at his feet. You weren’t blind—you knew how good he looked. And as much as you hated to admit it, there were times when you couldn’t stop yourself from staring a little too long at his tattoos or wondering what it would feel like to have his hands on you instead of casually bumping shoulders on your way to class.

Still, he was your best friend, and you weren’t about to risk ruining that.

At least, that was the plan. Until everything changed one night.

It started like any other evening. Sukuna had invited himself over to your apartment under the guise of “helping” you study, though his version of helping involved sprawled out on your couch, flipping through his phone while you tried to focus on your notes.

“You’re useless,” you muttered, glaring at him from your desk.

“Hey, I’m moral support,” Sukuna said with a grin, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “Besides, you’re smart. You don’t need my help.”

“You’re just lazy.”

“And you’re too uptight,” he shot back, sitting up and stretching in a way that made his shirt ride up, exposing a sliver of toned stomach and the edge of his hip tattoo.

You quickly looked away, heat rising to your cheeks. “Whatever. Some of us actually care about passing.”

Sukuna chuckled, standing and wandering over to your desk. He leaned over your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.

“You’re stressing too much,” he murmured, his voice low. “Relax.”

“I can’t relax with you hovering,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

But Sukuna didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, plucking the pen from your hand and tossing it onto the desk. His hand brushed against yours, and the simple touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“What’s your deal tonight?” you asked, turning to glare at him.

Sukuna’s smirk faltered, replaced by something more serious. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” he said, his tone softer now. “Avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you lied, crossing your arms.

Sukuna’s gaze darkened, and he leaned in closer, his hands braced on either side of your chair. “Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on?”

Your heart raced as you tried to think of an excuse, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless. Sukuna tilted his head, his smirk returning as if he’d figured something out.

“Wait a minute,” he said, his voice dropping. “Is this about me?”

Your stomach flipped. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been weird ever since that party last week,” Sukuna said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “When I caught you staring at me.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie,” he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. “You think I didn’t notice? The way you looked at me? Like you wanted me to—”

“Shut up,” you snapped, standing abruptly and trying to push past him.

But Sukuna caught your wrist, pulling you back. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something more serious, more dangerous.

“Don’t run away,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me?”

The question hung in the air, and you felt your resolve crumbling under his intense gaze. Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his hand still holding your wrist.

“Sukuna, I…”

Before you could finish, he cupped your face with his free hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His crimson eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might back off. But then his lips crashed into yours, stealing the words from your mouth.

The kiss was everything you’d imagined—hot, intense, and overwhelming in the best way. His hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, tangling in your hair, gripping your waist like he couldn’t get enough of you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

“Fuck,” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You have?”

He smirked, his fingers brushing against your lips. “You’re my best friend, but I’m not blind. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you drive me crazy without even trying.”

“Sukuna…”

“Let me show you,” he said, his voice dropping. “Let me show you how much I want you.”

You nodded, too caught up in the moment to think about anything else. 

🩷🩷🩷

Before you could react, Sukuna’s hands were on you, strong and commanding as he gripped your thighs and lifted you effortlessly onto your desk. His lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath with the sheer intensity of his kiss. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, his tongue delving into your mouth in a way that left you dizzy.

“Fuck, you taste good,” Sukuna muttered against your lips, his hands already tugging at your shirt. He pulled it over your head, his lips trailing down your neck as his fingers worked to undo your bra.

Your breath hitched as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. He didn’t linger, though; Sukuna was a man on a mission, and it seemed like his sole purpose was to ruin you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he growled, his hands sliding down to tug at your pants. He yanked them off with an urgency that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving you bare and exposed before him.

Sukuna dropped to his knees, his massive hands gripping your thighs and spreading you wide. His crimson eyes darkened as he took you in, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Fuck, look at you,” he said, his voice rough with hunger. “So wet for me already.”

You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was on you. Sukuna devoured you like a man starved, his tongue plunging into your heat with an intensity that left you breathless. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, precise flicks that had your hips bucking against his face.

“Stay still, princess” Sukuna growled, his hands gripping your thighs harder to hold you in place. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The sheer dominance in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his assault. He sucked on your clit, the sensation so overwhelming that your head fell back, a loud moan escaping your lips.

“Fuck, Sukuna,” you gasped, your legs trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” Sukuna murmured against your skin, his voice muffled. “Let me hear you.”

He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right as his tongue worked your clit. The combination was devastating, and it wasn’t long before you were crying out his name, your body arching off the desk as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

But Sukuna didn’t stop. He kept going, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you through your orgasm and into another. By the time he finally pulled back, you were trembling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

Sukuna wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking up at you like he was the devil himself. “You taste so fucking good,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You barely had time to recover before Sukuna was standing, his hands gripping your hips as he turned you around. He bent you over the desk, his large hands spreading your legs and pressing firmly into the small of your back to deepen your arch.

“Look at you,” Sukuna growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “Bent over for me like a good little slut.”

A gasp escaped your lips as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough for you to hear his next words clearly.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous.

You didn’t have time to respond before Sukuna slid into you, the stretch making your eyes roll back. He gave you no time to adjust, his pace brutal from the start. His hips slammed against yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as he fucked you like a man possessed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Sukuna groaned, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises. “You feel so fucking good.”

The combination of his rough thrusts, the hand in your hair, and the way he kept pressing into the curve of your back had you seeing stars. Your moans filled the room, each one spurring him on as he drove you closer to the edge.

“You’re mine,” Sukuna growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulled you back against him. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own pleasure.

“Louder,” Sukuna demanded, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

“I’m yours!” you cried, your body trembling as another orgasm ripped through you.

Sukuna groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he came.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, your bodies pressed together as you caught your breath. Then Sukuna straightened, his hand sliding up your back as he pulled you upright.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You turned to look at him, your legs still trembling as he smirked down at you. “And you’re insufferable,” you said, though your tone lacked any real bite.

Sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Yeah, but you love it.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong.

[koiiiji]

until you’re ready

pairing ; b!Daniel x Jay, hint of b!Daniel x reader x Jay

summary ; reader went through break up, and now unsure if she is ready for new relationship. luckily her close friends are always there for support!

MASTERLIST

the evening sky over Seoul was painted with hues of pink and orange, the sun dipping below the horizon as the city lights began to flicker on. you found yourself walking the familiar streets, each step taking you closer to Daniel Park and Jay Hong’s apartment. your heart was heavy, weighed down by the turmoil of your recent breakup and the uncertainty surrounding your current relationship. you hadn’t been sure who else to turn to, but you knew that Daniel and Jay would listen without judgment.

when you finally reached their door, you hesitated for just a moment before knocking softly. the door opened almost immediately, revealing Daniel’s warm smile — one that seemed to reach deeper, past just friendly concern. there was something about the way his eyes softened when they met yours that made you feel like you were exactly where you needed to be.

“hey, come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let you enter. you could see Jay in the background, already setting out some tea on the low table in the living room. as he glanced over at you, his gaze was calm yet attentive, like he was silently attuned to your every emotion. the sight of them both brought a small sense of relief—this place had always felt like a refuge for you, but tonight it felt even more comforting, like a sanctuary you hadn’t known you needed.

you sat down between them on the comfortable sofa, the familiar scent of the apartment soothing your nerves. Jay took a seat beside you, his knee brushing lightly against yours, a small touch that grounded you in the present moment. Daniel settled close on your other side, his arm casually draped along the back of the couch, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder. it was a simple gesture, but it sent a warm, tingling sensation through you.

they both watched you closely, concern evident in their eyes, and you took a deep breath before speaking.

“i needed to talk to you guys about something,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady. “it’s about Taesoo.”

Daniel’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity, while Jay’s expression remained calm, though you could see the subtle shift in his posture as he leaned in, ready to listen.

“he… he asked me if i wanted to move in with him,” you confessed, your voice wavering slightly. “he lives in Ansan, and i’m here in Seoul. it’s a big change, and he was clear about our long-distance relationships, that he wants to see me more… i’m… i’m not sure if moving in is what i really need right now.”

Daniel tilted his head, his gaze softening even more as he studied your face with that gentle, thoughtful look he always had. there was a hint of something else in his eyes, though — something deeper, more intense, as if he was searching for something beyond your words. “do you want to move in with him?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with a subtle concern that only someone who cared deeply would show. “are you sure you love him?”

you hesitated, your gaze dropping to your hands as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. the truth was, you weren’t sure. you cared about Taesoo, but the love you had for him felt different — less certain, less deep than what you had known before.

“at least he loves me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “that’s something, right? i’m… i’m on my way to loving him too. that should be enough.”

Daniel’s expression softened even further, and he leaned forward, his hand reaching out to gently hold your shoulder. touch was reassuring, but it lingered just a second longer than you expected, sending a wave of warmth through you. “maybe you could wait until you actually fall in love, and then think about moving in,” he suggested with a small smile, his thumb brushing lightly against your collarbone. there was a tenderness in his tone, something that made your heart flutter. “it doesn’t have to be rushed.”

you shook your head slightly, the emotions you’d been holding back starting to bubble to the surface. “but you know me.. i need someone,” you confessed, your voice cracking. “i need a man with me in my life. i don’t want… i can’t be alone.”

Daniel’s smile was soft and understanding as he looked into your eyes, his thumb still tracing gentle patterns on your skin. “why?” he asked gently, his tone full of warmth. “what’s the use of us, men?”

you couldn’t help the small, bittersweet smile that tugged at your lips as you blinked back tears. “well… it’s nice to dance with you men,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. memories of your ex flooded back — the times you’d danced together, those moments when everything had felt perfect and right. but now, those moments felt distant, and the touch of Daniel’s hand on your shoulder, the subtle brush of Jay’s knee against yours, brought you back to the present.

Daniel chuckled softly, the sound full of affection, and then he pulled you into a tight, comforting hug. his embrace was warm, safe, and exactly what you needed in that moment. you felt his breath against your ear as he whispered, “tell Taesoo that you’re not ready yet. and if he will leave… well he’s not good enough for you. and until you truly fall in love, Jay and i are here. we’ll dance with you as much as you want.”

tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, but before you could feel the weight of them, Jay was there too, standing and joining the embrace. his hand was gentle as it rested on your back, his touch calming. you felt the quiet strength in his presence, the way he always knew just how to comfort you without needing words.

for a moment, you stood there, enveloped in their warmth, feeling the steady rise and fall of their breaths. as Daniel held you, you felt the gentle pressure of his fingers against your back, a touch that promised so much more than words ever could. and when you looked up, your gaze met Jay’s, who offered a small, knowing smile, as if he understood everything you were feeling. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the depth of emotion he kept hidden so well.

you sighed, a mixture of relief and confusion swirling within you. but you knew one thing for sure — you weren’t alone. and as long as Daniel and Jay were by your side, you had all the time in the world to figure out what your heart truly wanted.