#couldn’t help but finish the main cast

[qyuubu]

homicipher human au hcs part 2 (the other humans that live in town):

mr. machete

he’s a skater boy, see ya later boy. he navigates the streets pretty fast because he’s always on his board.

his machete takes the form of an electric guitar. he’s the personification of what boomers believe the ‘disturbed youth’ looks like.

he’s perpetually shirtless, if you don’t count the countless bandages and bandaids on his body as clothing. he gets nicked often. if not because of fights, because of skating.

he also wears a backwards baseball cap and tinted shades to look cool. if he’s not feeling it, he’ll wear a bandana to keep the hair out of his eyes. weirdly enough, the bandana also covers his eyes a bit. but even if you do get close enough to see his eyes, you get whopped by his guitar so quick that whatever you remember from his face just comes up as a blur.

all anyone remembers is his wicked smile. he always smiles. it’s a little disturbing, to be honest.

he’s a goddamn rebel. always making a mess of things and is just itching for an entertaining fight.

he’s notorious around town for ending up in gruesome squabbles, which he wins.

he hasn’t lost yet, not because he’s infallible, but bc he doesn’t fight if he knows he’ll lose. some people call it cowardly but if you live his lifestyle, it’s more about self preservation.

doesn’t care about the rumors surrounding the abandoned apartments and the monsters in it, but whatever is in there, he hopes is a good fighter.

he won’t go in. he minds his own business like that. but when the mc so happens to stumble into his territory at the skate park, all bets are off.

he’s throwing hands.

mr. hood

he’s the town’s community safety volunteer.

though, he opted to take the most difficult shift, which is night shifts. he’s especially active during the rain. he believes he isn’t really needed when the sun is out and the weather is well. but he’s eager to help when times are tough.

he’s always sporting a big hoodie that’s all brown and dirtied up for fetching cats in trees and finding lost items in the rainy night.

he also wears a face mask for safety, and googles to protect his eyes from the rain. no one knows what his face looks like. his entire body is armed with black protective gear so he can perform tasks safely, especially in dangerous weather.

when he sees a frantic girl wearing a white rain coat, clutching onto her clear umbrella and running in the slippery streets during a heavy rain, he insists on helping her out.

once he sees she is safe, he will promptly take his leave.

he has no idea who she is and why she was running, but what matters is that she’s safe. he will keep an eye on her though, just in case she needs his help during a rainy storm once more.

mr. gap

he’s a runaway. he lives in abandoned buildings is known around town as the unconventional beggar.

he asks for anything you have on hand: food, clothes, even your trash so he can sell it. people are initially scared of him, but he never takes anything without consent.

he may not be a thief but he is sort of a creep… while he doesn’t have a lot of ill intentions, he’s always just… staring.

if you catch his reflection, best believe his eyes will be staring right back at yours.

if you pass by his abandoned building, he’s probably looking at you through the sunken-in hole in the wall.

he’s helpful sometimes too! as long as you give him something in return. he does fulfill his promises. if you think about it, he’s kinda like an odd jobs establishment.

for entertainment, he looks through garbage and takes back the things he likes. maybe an old magazine or a broken trinket.

one day, he picks up a discarded paranormal magazine and reads up about the white coat wearing monster that murders all sorts of people in town.

he’s pretty intrigued! a few days later, he meets her as she walks by his abandoned building to get to hers.

he asks for the bloody hand she’s carrying in her plastic bag, in exchange for the information he found about her in that magazine.

part 1:

other homicipher human hcs:

[trulyumai]

make that two

—synopsis: yeah, Eddie was down bad. he couldn’t even read a few sentences in before casting his gaze back on you. I mean… could you blame him?

—warnings: none!

—pairings: eddie munson / gf! reader

You sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a hefty textbook while Eddie paced nearby, running a hand through his curly hair.

“Okay, so we need to focus on the themes of existentialism in this novel,” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “How about we start with the main character’s struggles?”

Eddie paused mid-pace, his dark eyes drifting toward you. You looked up, and for a moment, the world outside faded. His lips curved into a lazy grin, and you could see the admiration etched in his expression. “Honestly, sweetheart, I think you’re more interesting than this assignment.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a smile. “Come on, Eddie! We can’t just blow it off. We’ve got to pass this class.”

He sat down beside you, resting his chin on his hand, a teasing spark in his eyes. “Yeah, but look at you! How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re sitting there like the goddess of wisdom?”

You felt your cheeks heat at his compliment. “You’re impossible,” you laughed, nudging him lightly. “Focus, or I’ll start charging you for tutoring sessions.”

Eddie chuckled, leaning closer, his presence warm and comforting. “Alright, fine. Let’s talk about ‘existentialism’ or whatever.” But his gaze remained fixed on you, and it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

“Eddie,” you said, trying to pull him back to the task at hand. “The themes—”

“Yeah, themes,” he interrupted, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “But seriously, how do you make studying look so good? It’s not fair.”

You tried to stifle a grin, but it was futile. “You’re just saying that to distract me!”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, feigning a dramatic sigh. “But can you blame me? You’re like a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day.”

You shook your head, exasperated yet delighted. “Okay, Mr. Munson. Let’s make a deal. If you can stay focused for ten minutes, I’ll reward you with… a kiss.”

Silence ensued. You almost wanted to take the words right back before he bolted up.

His eyes widened, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind. “Ten minutes? That’s a long time in Eddie-world,” he said, puffing out his chest playfully. “But I accept your challenge, fair maiden!”

As you both settled into the assignment, Eddie’s mind wandered again, his gaze drifting back to you. He watched the way you flipped through the pages, the way your hair caught the light, and the soft concentration on your face. It was impossible to focus when you were there, right in front of him, like a muse.

Shit, was he always so.. smitten like this?

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “This isn’t working. I’m failing already.”

You giggled, finally meeting his eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But really, I can’t help it. You’ve got this… magnetism. It’s like a spell you’ve cast over me. Wait.. you’re not some warlock are you?!”

Your heart raced at his words. And no matter how much you wanted to laugh, you still grunted out a displeasurable sound. “Eddie, focus! We need to get this done!”

With a dramatic sigh, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Fine, I’ll focus. But just know that my thoughts are filled with visions of you. It’s your fault I can’t pay attention.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling lighter in his presence. “Alright, one more attempt. Let’s break it down together.”

For the next few minutes, you guided him through the key points of the assignment, his attention wavering but gradually sharpening as you spoke. When you finished, you leaned in closer, a smile on your face. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Not with you around,” Eddie replied, leaning in as well, his eyes sparkling with mischief and admiration. “Now, about that kiss…”

“Eddie!”

….

“…please?”

[lemonlover1110]

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him. 

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you. 

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking. 

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches. 

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you. 

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

[mokulule]

A Man Has Needs - Part 2

First | Masterpost

DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main Summary:

In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 2

Danny awoke Wednesday morning to the second coming of his human shaped bedmate. Of course with the terrible shape the guy’s core was in he hadn’t expected the first time to be the last time.

He sighed and rested his forehead on the warm bare chest right in front of him, closing his eyes again. Despite the dumpster smell, Danny was really freaking comfortable in the guy’s arms, pressed skin to skin, enveloped in his larger frame. Sighing again he slipped intangibly out of the hold. It was one thing to cuddle incidentally while sleeping, entirely another to continue while he was awake.

The guy was here because he was starving.

Danny cast a longing gaze over his shoulder - was it so wrong to long for someone who’d hold him like that just to hold him and not because he gave off surplus energy?

Danny frowned and floated over to his closet to pull out T-shirt and jeans, he didn’t want to risk getting caught in his underwear again. It had been embarrassing that he’d forgotten the last time, but it was only when the guy came out dressed he’d realized. Maybe he needed to start sleeping in a shirt? Maybe it would be less awkward. - Less like waking up from a one night stand without the benefit of even having gotten laid.

That was a thought - Danny couldn’t really have someone staying overnight.

Not that he really had much game in the first place, but a small part of him had hoped maybe getting away from his parent’s infamy and his own unfortunate high school reputation might change things a bit. And while Danny wasn’t discounting the possibility that he could end up doing something ridiculously embarrassing that would make him a social pariah for the rest of his college experience, these first two days had been really nice.

Nobody could replace Sam, Tucker and Val, but he’d met some really nice people that felt like they could be good friends.

It wasn’t like Danny had had plans to start dating or end up in bed with strangers, but it was college. There were gonna be parties - that he might even get invited to! And he’d been open to the possibility, if it happened. Mutually consenting adults doing adult things because they wanted to. Danny knew and embraced the fact that he was something of a bi-disaster.

Not that that mattered right now. Nothing could happen.

Danny finally pulled the shirt on over his head and stared unseeingly at the closet door. Ghost animals wouldn’t have been a problem, they were generally shy and wouldn’t join him if he wasn’t alone. But Danny’s ghostly visitor was part human and not only that he was starving and sick.

Not only did he not want to explain to a one night stand, or worse someone he was dating, why an unfairly handsome man joined them in the middle of the night, he also didn’t know how his guest would react to Danny not being alone. The starvation might make him territorial over his food source. It also wasn’t out of the question that he would seek out Danny elsewhere in the city.

It was just a potential disaster best avoided entirely.

Danny sighed and finished dressing. Lamenting temporary restrictions on his non-existent love life didn’t help any. Breakfast and coffee however, that was something he could do.

Oo o oO

Mint and frost in his nose.

Jason’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Not his room, not his apartment.

Memories flooded into his brain and he buried his face in his hands. How could he have forgotten this had happened? How had he not done research? He had crawled into some guy’s bed to sleep, been fed breakfast and sent on his merry way, and Jason had forgotten? Or well not exactly. Rather he’d been distracted and the strange events of Saturday morning hadn’t seemed important.

What was wrong with him?

Jason rubbed his forehead. Somehow it had happened again. He quelled the rising alarm. Panicking would do him no good.

There was the rustling of movement beyond the not quite closed bedroom door. Jason’s head snapped up.

For a moment he just breathed watching the door. He would be on the other side of the door. There was the scent in the air again beckoning him to follow. His head spun as he breathed in deep.

Jason should have conducted a proper background check on the guy after the first time. He had no real excuse, but he’d gone to Sunday dinner at the manor. They’d all been so surprised and happy to see him, that had been a surprise for him. He’d expected their surprise but not their happiness. He’d even managed to interact with Bruce without any scathing words. He’d scarcely been able to believe how well it went.

He’d gotten so much done since Saturday and then, what had happened last night?

He was on patrol and he’d suddenly been hit by exhaustion, like a sledgehammer. He’d had to call off relatively early. The last thing he remembered was stashing his gear and then nothing.

Mint and frost.

Would the man have called the police on him this time? First time could reasonably have been called an accident, but a second incident? Didn’t seem near as accidental.

Jason’s eyes fell on the pillow his head must have rested on just moments ago and promptly had to strangle the urge to burrow his face in it and breathe it in.

Disturbed, he jumped out of the bed. Something was up with him. Something weird.

He collected his clothing and boots, just as scattered around the room as they were last time. He couldn’t find his left sock. His shoulders wound up in tension. Just his luck.

Like last time, he considered jumping out the window, but he really should face the music, and he wouldn’t figure out anything if he ran away. Maybe this time he would be able to apologize for the intrusion.

He opened the door the rest of the way and promptly his shoulders lowered as the tension left him in a sigh at the sight of the guy in kitchen area.

Jason didn’t know what to do with the reaction. It didn’t make sense at all. Nothing about his situation had changed. And yet, it was okay now. The idea that the guy would call the police on Jason was ridiculous, because he was safe here.

The guy watched a sizzling pan intently, his black hair was an unruly nest on top of the bent over head. He was clothed today, which wasn’t something Jason should be disappointed about.

“There’s a cup of coffee on the table,” he said, without taking his eyes away from the pan.

Jason’s eyes moved to the small table they’d eaten at last time. Sure enough, a steaming black mug with white text sat there innocuously.

Okay, so they were doing this again.

Carefully he made his way to the table, looking around. There were a lot less moving boxes this time. A bookcase had been assembled next to the window on the right wall and half filled with books. He was too far away to read titles, but the size of most of them pointed toward textbooks rather than literature. There was still an open place on the floor over there suitable for a small couch.

He sat down and folded his hands around the warm mug, then immediately unfolded them as he caught a glance of the word dead. He turned the mug around.

Are you a half-dead or half-alive kind of person? The mug asked to Jason’s bemusement. It was clearly a pun on the glass half empty or full saying, but rather on the morbid side.

“Gift from my friends, they think they’re hilarious,” the guy said, and Jason looked up to find him smiling at him even as he rolled his eyes at his friends. Jason’s lips turned slightly upwards of their own accord.

“Anyways breakfast! And not even burnt,” the guy declared setting a plate down in front of Jason: A piece of buttered toast with two fried eggs sunny side up. And indeed not even burnt. If that was a concern that certainly explained his intense concentration earlier.

Guy sat down with his own plate. Just two fried eggs.

“No toast?” Jason asked before he could help himself.

“I hate toast.”

Now even more confused Jason looked at the toast on his plate. Why did he even have it then? He lived alone, far as Jason could tell.

“My sister brought it,” guy explained exasperated, “she says I should eat some bread too, for variation.”

Jason snorted, then looked down to the breadless plate, and back up with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah, you laugh it up. I bet you don’t do everything your older sibling tells you to either - if you have one, that is.”

Jason did actually laugh at that. He raised his mug. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Guy’s face went from momentarily confused to a feral smile and he lifted his own mug to clink against Jason’s. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Breakfast continued mostly silent after that point as they both ate. Jason was careful not to touch the other man, he remembered the strange reaction he’d had last, but otherwise he felt good; relaxed, languid and full as if he’d eaten quite a bit more than a single piece of toast and two eggs.

Guy was leaned back in his chair head resting on top of the backrest eyes looking unseeing at the ceiling, long line of his neck on display. It was good Jason felt so sated, it made it easier to ignore the fact he kinda wanted to lick and bite his way up that throat.

It wasn’t like Jason didn’t have any libido but it was an odd thought process to have for him with someone he barely knew.

Guy’s hands were curled around his mug and he occasionally took a sip, throat bobbing with the motion. He looked as relaxed as Jason felt. After one such sip, he checked his phone and the atmosphere was broken with a “Shit! Forgot the time!”

The guy rushed around the apartment grabbing coat and keys and backpack. Jason followed him outside into the hallway as he finished tying his shoes while somehow walking. He straightened and locked his door.

“Take care of yourself,” he called after Jason as he ran down the hall.

Jason was left mildly shellshocked staring down the now empty hallway. He had managed to get through the whole encounter without any strange electrifying touches. Why did he feel so bereft?

Something was clearly up. With the guy? With Jason? He wasn’t sure, something in him rebelled at the very idea of labeling the guy as a threat, and that set him on edge.

One thing he knew for certain; he had a long overdue background check to do - and he felt full of energy to do so.

-

And so it continues, I actually wrote this months ago, but wasn't entirely happy with it, but then @ollietheotaku commented on part 1 and I was reminded and realized maybe my eyes would be fresh on it now and here we are. Never let it be said commenting on older fics doesn't work!

I also started writing part three but with Dead on MAYn starting in a week I really must focus on my fics for that!

Hope ya'll enjoyed! I don't always get around to replying to all comments but know they are appreciated and so is speculation what is gonna happen.

If you wanna subscribe you can do so at the Masterpost

[rootedinrevisions]

Off the Red Carpet

SUMMARY: You accompany Glen to a red carpet event, and you get to watch him be in his element- the chaos of flashing cameras and the glitz of the red carpet- firsthand. As Glen navigates the spotlight, you remain behind the scenes, quietly proud of the star he's become, all while cherishing the connection between you that exists when the cameras aren't on.

A/N: This idea was originally from @hunterthecharmer thank you for the idea and for giving me the okay to try my hand at writing this! Hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: None. This one is pretty fluffy.

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

The hotel suite hummed with quiet activity, a mix of soft music playing, and the occasional murmur of conversation from the main room.

The golden hues of sunset filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm light across the space. You stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing the gown over your hips. The fabric felt luxurious under your fingers, flowing softly into a gentle train. The way it hugged your figure made you feel like you belonged on the arm of someone like Glen, even if the thought of stepping into the spotlight still set your nerves on edge.

You took a deep breath, adjusting one of the delicate straps before reaching behind you to zip up the dress. Your fingers fumbled, unable to grasp the tiny pull. Frustration mixed with your growing nervousness, and you let out a soft sigh, glancing toward the closed door.

As if on cue, there was a knock.

“Babe? You almost ready?” Glen’s voice carried through the door, warm and familiar, a grounding force amidst your swirling thoughts.

“Almost,” you called back, your voice a little breathless. “But…I might need some help.”

The door creaked open, and Glen stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding you. The room seemed to still for a moment as his gaze swept over you, his usual easy smile softening into something more profound.

“Wow,” he said quietly, the word barely more than a breath.

You felt your cheeks warm under his stare. “Think you can help me with this?” you asked, turning slightly to show him the unzipped back of your dress.

He stepped closer, his movements unhurried, and gently brushed your hair to one side. “Of course,” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he took hold of the zipper.

The soft tug of the fabric and the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. When he finished, his hands lingered for a moment, resting gently at your waist before he turned you to face him. His eyes roamed over you, and the quiet awe in his expression made your heart skip a beat.

“What do you think?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a step back, as if needing to take all of you in, and shook his head slightly, almost in disbelief. “I think,” he said, his voice low and sincere, “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your lips parted, but before you could respond, he reached up, his thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. “Seriously,” he added, his tone soft but earnest. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

The emotion in his words made your chest tighten, and when he leaned in to kiss you, it wasn’t just an affectionate peck. It was slow and deliberate, his lips lingering on yours like he wanted to make sure you felt every ounce of what he couldn’t put into words.

“Glen,” his manager called from the other side. “We need to get going.”

Glen pulled back, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Guess that’s our cue.” He smiled down at you, taking your hand in his. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, though your voice carried a hint of uncertainty.

The soft click of the hotel room door echoed as you and Glen stepped into the hallway. The plush carpet muffled the sound of your heels, but walking in them while managing the delicate train of your gown was proving to be a challenge. You tried to discreetly gather the fabric in one hand, balancing it while taking careful steps, but the effort was less than graceful.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Glen glance down, his expression shifting to one of quiet amusement. Without a word, he slowed his pace, gently reaching for the trailing fabric of your gown.

“Here,” he said softly, gathering the train in one hand with practiced ease. “Let me take care of that.”

You blinked, surprised by the gesture. “Glen, you don’t have to—”

He cut you off with a small shake of his head, his lips curving into a warm smile. “I know I don’t have to,” he said, his tone light yet sincere. “But I want to. Can’t have you tripping before we even make it to the car.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at that, the sound easing some of the lingering nerves in your chest. As you resumed walking, you felt the gentle pressure of his other hand resting lightly at the small of your back, guiding you with an ease that felt so natural, so him.

When you reached the elevator, Glen shifted slightly, keeping hold of your gown as he pressed the call button with his free hand. The doors slid open with a quiet chime, and he gestured for you to step inside first, his hand never leaving its spot at your waist as you did.

Inside the elevator, you turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his. The golden lighting highlighted the soft yet focused expression on his face. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice filled with genuine gratitude.

He tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said simply. “That’s what I’m here for.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart flutter, and you found yourself leaning into his touch ever so slightly as the elevator began its descent.

Glen caught the movement, his thumb brushing lightly against your back in response. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and just for you.

You nodded, feeling the corners of your lips tug upward. “Yeah,” you replied softly. “I just…I feel lucky.”

His smile widened, and he leaned down, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss to your temple. “Funny,” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of playful charm. “Because I was just thinking the same thing.”

The elevator chimed again, signaling your arrival at the lobby. Glen stepped aside to let you exit first, but not before giving your waist one last gentle squeeze.

The lobby was alive with a low hum of activity, hotel staff bustling about and the faint chatter of guests mingling in the background. As you and Glen approached the doors, the distant sound of cameras clicking and voices calling out his name grew louder. Paparazzi were stationed just beyond the entrance, their flashes already bouncing off the glass.

Glen’s security team, always a step ahead, intercepted you both before you reached the main doors. One of them leaned in to speak quietly. “The parking garage is clear. We’ll take you through there to avoid the crowd.”

Glen nodded, his hand still resting lightly at the small of your back as the team led you toward a side corridor. The bright, polished floors of the lobby gave way to the dimmer, utilitarian lighting of the garage. The quiet hum of fluorescent lights above and the occasional echo of footsteps replaced the buzz of the crowd outside.

As you stepped into the cool expanse of the garage, your heels clicked softly against the concrete. You walked side by side with Glen, his presence steady and reassuring, until you came upon a patch of water glistening under the overhead lights. It stretched across the pathway, and your gaze dropped to the delicate hem of your gown, worry flickering across your face.

Before you could even voice your concern or attempt to maneuver around it, Glen reacted instinctively. “Hold on,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Without hesitation, he bent slightly and swept you up into his arms as though you weighed nothing. A surprised laugh escaped your lips, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he carried you effortlessly around the puddle.

“Glen!” you exclaimed, though your tone was more amused than admonishing. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

He glanced down at you, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let your dress get ruined before you even make it to the event?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Still, I could’ve managed.”

“Maybe,” he said with a smirk as he set you gently back on your feet, his hands lingering at your waist to steady you. “But why make you do it when I’m right here?”

You shook your head, still smiling, as you adjusted your gown. Just then, his security team opened the back door of a black SUV with tinted windows. 

“Milady,” Glen said with a playful smile, gesturing for you to step in.

“Thank you,” you replied, matching his tone as you carefully slid into the plush leather seat, mindful of your dress.

Glen followed suit, settling in beside you and closing the door behind him. The faint hum of the engine provided a soothing background noise as the driver pulled out of the garage and onto the city streets.

For a moment, you were quiet, staring out the window at the lights of the bustling city. Glen shifted beside you, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned closer.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with concern.

You glanced at him, offering a small nod. “Just…nervous, I guess. It’s a big night for you, and I don’t want to—”

“Be ridiculous,” Glen interrupted gently, flashing his trademark grin. “You’re not going to ruin anything. Trust me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

“There she is,” he said, nudging you playfully. “See? You’re going to be fine. You’re not even walking the red carpet, anyway. You get to stay behind the cameras and sip champagne while I do all the work.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call posing for photos and answering questions work,” you teased, arching a brow.

“Oh, it’s brutal,” he said, feigning seriousness. “All those flashing lights, having to keep this face from looking too shiny…”

You shook your head, smiling, but the fluttering in your stomach didn’t entirely subside. Glen seemed to notice.

His hand found yours, his fingers threading through yours with ease. His thumb began to graze over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey,” he said, his tone softer now, his teasing dropped. “You don’t have to be nervous. I’m really happy you’re here with me tonight. It means a lot.”

You looked at him, his expression earnest and filled with something deeper than you could put into words.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, squeezing his hand. “I’m happy to be here with you, too. I’m proud of you, you know.”

Glen’s lips quirked into a small smile, his thumb continuing its comforting motion. “Well, don’t make me cry before we even get there.”

As the car slowed to a stop outside the venue, the energy in the air shifted, electrified by the flash of cameras and the distant sound of fans calling out names. You could feel the thrum of excitement radiating through the air, reverberating in your chest.

Glen adjusted his bow tie, his jawline sharp under the streetlights. He turned to you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “Ready for the madness?”

You nodded, even though your nerves had returned. The line of cars ahead crawled forward, one by one releasing a parade of celebrities who were met with the cheers of the crowd and the blinding strobe of camera flashes.

When it was finally your turn, Glen stepped out first, his polished shoes meeting the pavement. The crowd erupted, calling his name as the flashes intensified. He turned to wave, flashing that Hollywood smile that had charmed audiences all over the world.

Then, as if the chaos around him didn’t exist, Glen turned back to you. He leaned down, extending a hand through the open door. “C’mon,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise.

You took his hand, the warmth of his palm grounding you as you stepped out. For a brief moment, the two of you stood together, a quiet connection amidst the frenzy. Glen gave your hand one last squeeze, his thumb brushing your skin in a silent promise before he stepped toward the red carpet.

“See you inside,” he said, and then he was gone, the lights and cameras swallowing him whole.

His manager appeared at your side, her touch gentle as she guided you away from the chaos and toward the media’s edge. Here, you were safely tucked behind the lines of reporters, photographers, and onlookers, shielded from the prying lenses but still close enough to see everything.

From your vantage point, you watched Glen stride onto the red carpet like he owned it. His confidence radiated with every step, and the cameras adored him. He paused in front of the wall of flashing bulbs, effortlessly shifting his stance to give them what they wanted—his signature smile. He turned slightly to the left, then to the right, his jawline sharp under the bright lights. The tailored suit he wore fit him perfectly, exuding the kind of polished charm that only he could pull off.

He looked every bit the Hollywood Leading Man, and for a moment, you found yourself caught between awe and adoration. Glen was always himself with you—gentle, playful, sincere—but here, he embodied the star the world had come to know. And yet, there was a thrill in knowing that beneath the flawless exterior was the man you knew better than anyone.

Your attention lingered as he moved seamlessly into an interview. He leaned in slightly, his posture relaxed but engaged, as the interviewer asked their question. You couldn’t hear the words over the buzz of the crowd, but you could tell by the way his brow lifted and a small smile tugged at his lips that it was something lighthearted. And then it came—the laugh. His shoulders shook just slightly, and his expression softened in a way that made your heart swell.

As he finished his response, Glen straightened and glanced around, his eyes scanning the crowd. When they landed on you, a grin spread across his face. He gave you a quick wink, just enough to send your stomach fluttering before he turned back to shake the interviewer’s hand and move on.

Your smile grew as you watched him continue down the carpet, stopping now and then to interact with fans pressed against the barriers. He greeted each one with genuine warmth, signing photos and posters, crouching down for selfies, and even exchanging a few words with those lucky enough to catch his attention.

One young fan, no more than ten years old, handed Glen a scrapbook of drawings they’d made of him. He thumbed through the pages, his expression shifting to one of quiet amazement. You could see his lips move as he said something to the child, who nodded enthusiastically while clutching a pen Glen had just handed back.

“Thank you so much,” you heard him say clearly to another fan as they gushed about his latest role.

This was a side of him that always took your breath away—the way he gave so much of himself to those who supported him. He didn’t just exist in their world; he connected with it, leaving pieces of himself behind for everyone to cherish.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible thread, his gaze found yours once more. This time, it lingered, a soft yet electric connection that sent a wave of warmth through you. His lips curved into a smile, not the polished one for the cameras or the fans, but one meant just for you.

You raised a hand in a small wave, your heart beating a little faster as he gave you a subtle nod before turning back to the next group of fans.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” his manager said, leaning toward you with a knowing smile.

You nodded, your gaze fixed on Glen as he moved gracefully through the crowd. “It’s surreal. But he… he makes it look easy.”

“That’s Glen for you,” she said with a chuckle. “Always knows how to work a room—or a red carpet.”

You laughed softly, but your attention never strayed far from him. He was magnetic, every movement deliberate yet natural, as if he’d been born for this.

This was his moment. After the whirlwind year he’d had—the long days on set, the relentless press tours, and the skyrocketing success—he deserved every bit of the recognition coming his way.

And while you were more than content to stay in the background, watching from the edges of his world, you couldn’t deny the pride and love that surged through you as you saw him shine.

The buzz of the red carpet faded the moment you stepped into the building. The quieter hum of conversation and the elegant glow of the interior lights replaced the chaos outside, offering a reprieve from the cameras and shouting fans.

Glen’s manager stayed close by, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she led you through the foyer. “He should be coming in right behind us,” she said, glancing back at you with a reassuring smile.

You nodded, your fingers fiddling with the delicate strap of your clutch as your nerves began to settle. But before you could think too much about the evening ahead, you felt it—a warm hand sliding around your waist.

“Miss me already?” he teased, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

Your lips curved into a smile as you looked up at him. “Always.”

There was a brief pause, and then Glen offered you his arm, his tone light. “Shall we?”

You accepted without hesitation, slipping your arm through his as he led you further into the building. The buzz of the outside world felt like a distant memory now, replaced by the quiet elegance of the venue's interior. The soft lighting and low hum of conversation seemed to make everything feel more intimate, even amidst the crowd.

“So, how did I do?” Glen asked with a teasing edge, clearly eager for your opinion.

“You were perfect,” you said honestly, giving his arm a small squeeze. “I’ve never seen you look more confident. Like you belonged there.”

He chuckled, his voice warm as he turned to face you. “Well, it’s a bit easier when I’ve got someone like you cheering me on.”

You couldn’t help the flush that crept up your neck, but you gave him a smile in return, silently grateful for how grounded he made you feel in the midst of the chaos.

“Seriously, though,” he added as you made your way through the foyer. “I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want to do this without you by my side.”

As the two of you continued through the space, the evening ahead felt less intimidating, more like an opportunity to savor the quieter moments together. While the world outside might never fully understand the dynamic between you, it was moments like this—away from the cameras, just the two of you—that made it all worth it.

The night ahead would be full of attention and flash, but the most important thing was that, despite the world around you, you were right where you needed to be—by his side, without needing to make a spectacle of it.

[carmillascrusade]

I’ve come home again: Prologue | Emily Prentiss x F!Reader

Series summary: You and Emily had an unfortunate split; separating you from the team after the divorce had been finalised. Your found family was no more and the people you once knew became nothing but strangers. A new threat has rose, with a network of serial killers surfacing, resulting in Rossi calling you back to the BAU. Will old feelings come back?

A/N: This sets up the main story. I have the next chapter almost finished, so it should be out soon. This is planned to be around twenty chapters long so I wouldn’t read if you’re not a fan of slow burn :)

Word count: 980

The air was still as you entered your bedroom. Despair clouded the room, the stench of it prominent as you traversed further into the darkness. Your bed was illuminated a fracture by the light leaking in from the open doorway, threatening to rid the room of its sinisterity yet, ultimately, losing the fight as the door shut upon itself; the hinges crying in protest as it did so. Emily lay in the centre of your bed. In the same position she was in this morning. And the morning before that. And the one before that.

Your heart ached for her and your inability to provide any help was frustrating you to no end. But, Emily didn’t want your help. No matter how many times you had offered, or tried to comfort her, she pushed you away. Every. Single. Time.

You ran your hand through her hair regardless of the grease and grime that coated each strand. Regardless of said grease and grime transferring onto your fingers. No, you did not care. Because you love Emily and you are willing to do whatever it takes to make her happy.

“Emily?” You whispered gently, coaxing her to look at you.

You weren’t expecting a response. You could barely get a sound out of her these days, but you were overjoyed when she turned to face you. A joy short lived, but you smiled nonetheless, since the eyes that looked at you merely saw through you as if you were a ghost made of smoke and vapour. But, press on you did.

“You haven’t eaten in a while, my love.” You murmured, fingers still combing through her hair. “I’ve brought you something to drink. I know that you don’t want to eat right now, so this way you can get the nutrients you need without eating, okay?”

You were aware that your words were falling on deaf ears. You knew that she wasn’t really present. Couldn’t really hear what you were saying. The silence had became too loud, your house unsettlingly quiet without the constant conversation and laughter flowing through it, you couldn’t help but try fill it.

The following weeks were much of the same. You helped her bathe, eat and take care of herself then slept beside her every night.

And she got better. Your house was no longer deathly silent, shared laughter and giggles filling every expanse of your house. Things were slowly getting back to normal and you were happy. Truly happy.

Until you weren’t.

When you said that you would do anything to make Emily happy, you didn’t think that would involve you packing your bags and leaving. You didn’t think she would cast you aside; send you walking through the threshold of your,  no her home, never to return. She hadn’t explained why or even gave you a reason. A simple “I don’t need you anymore.” was all she had stated before sending you packing.

But you said it yourself: you would do anything to make her happy.

—0—

You hadn’t spoken to Emily nor anybody else on the team for over a year. Was it a year? Longer perhaps. It’s easy to lose track of time when your days are monotonous and bleak. A heavy cloud hovered ominously above you, following you everywhere you went, always watching.

You had signed the divorce papers as soon as you could, sending them away immediately so that she could sign them. Fine, you had thought, if she doesn’t want me then I don’t want her.  Yet after all this time, you were still waiting for them back.

When your sister had died you had been inconsolable. What more did the universe, with its cruel hands and unrelenting grip, wish to snatch away from you? Your wife and now your sister. You couldn’t give in to your grief, no not this time; not when you had gained custody of a baby that needs to be taken care of.

Yes, the baby comes first. The baby and then you. Your sister had named her Tally, heavens dew she had told you it meant, a blessing from god.

However, Tally was not the sole reason that you survived. Alex Blake, the woman that she is, helped you through your grief. She helped you learn how to be a mother and how to take care of a such a small human, incapable of doing anything but existing, solely dependent on you.

Tally was coming up four now and had affectionately claimed Alex as her grandma. You weren’t sure how Alex would take it, having lost her son at such a young age, but you were ecstatic when she accepted your daughter with open arms, and by extension you too.

Your little family was complete and you were content with the life you had. The death of your sister or the separation from your wife had been pushed into the endless caverns right at the back of your mind, forgotten about in the inky depths.

Television shows and movies always seemed to be over exaggerating when the main characters' world came to a stop. Perhaps they weren’t exaggerating at all. A formal request for you to enlist your services within the FBI once more sat in your hand. According to the letter, a huge web of serial killers had been discovered and they needed all hands on deck to solve the case.

All hands on deck included you.

You were torn on what to do. On one hand, you could potentially keep millions safe from despicable people. Nevertheless, you had a daughter now, a daughter that needs her mother and it wasn’t guaranteed that you would catch said people.

You emailed Rossi back, stating that you accepted the job position. After all, you needed to catch and shut down this network for good. Especially when you had a daughter to keep safe.

What happened to your sister would never happen again.

[iinryer]

for the scene prompts! number 30 and 🛋️🔑💭!

a little scene prompt game to get me writing!

[🛋️🔑💭 + 30: grabbing onto their arm]

takes place between s2 and s3!

—

The muffled, scraping sound of a key in the lock is what finally catches his attention.

Buck can’t even find it in himself to react. He’s nauseous and in so much pain that, at this point, embarrassment isn’t even close to being on the menu. He can’t go anywhere anyway, so he simply waits to be found.

It’s Eddie, because of course it’s Eddie.

Buck can’t see him yet from where he’s perched on the stairs, but he can hear his soft humming amidst the quiet shuffling and gentle click of the door being closed with care. He must have been listening to the radio on his way over. Music has been sticking to him again, Buck’s noticed. It’s endearing. And relieving, to know he’s doing better after—

Buck closes his eyes on an inhale and lets his forehead roll against the wall. Breathes out harshly.

When he opens them, Eddie is in the kitchen, finally in line of sight, setting a paper grocery bag on the counter before turning towards the sofa. Because that’s where Buck is supposed to be.

The double take Eddie does would be comical if Buck weren’t so miserable. Can’t even muster a grimace-meant-to-be-a-smile when Eddie meets his eyes.

There’s a beat, then Eddie blinks. Scans over Buck, and across the stairs, clearly spots the crutches propped at the bottom, where Buck left them. He takes in Buck’s sweat stained t-shirt, the surely pathetic and drooping expression on his face, greasy curls, nausea-pale complexion, where he’s slumped halfway between the main floor and the lofted bedroom. Stuck. Couldn’t make it up the stairs. Couldn’t get himself back down.

Buck’s not sure what he expects. An eye roll. A chewing out, maybe. A frustrated sigh and a disappointed comment.

What were you thinking, Buck. How long have you been stuck sitting there, Buck. Why didn’t you call for help, Buck.

All easy contenders. All questions he doesn’t really have any answers to.

But what he surely doesn’t expect is for Eddie to… deflate, is the only way he can think to describe it.

His eyes go all sad and his shoulders fall, just a little. His mouth pinches in the way it does when he’s worried, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask anything. Doesn’t sigh or roll his eyes or look irritated or disappointed. He just climbs the stairs—two at a time, the show-off—and gingerly sets himself on the step below where Buck is all but collapsed in a heap, head still resting against the wall under the railing.

Eddie’s careful when he presses the pads of his fingers against the inside of Buck’s wrist, careful when he examines the cast on his leg for damage or strain, careful when he feels for the pulse at the bottom of his useless foot, careful when he pulls out his phone light to check Buck’s pupils.

Careful, careful, careful.

He doesn’t say a word.

Neither does Buck.

After finishing his assessment, and apparently deeming Buck safe for transport back to the sofa—no C-collar required—Eddie simply rises to his feet and offers a hand. Like it’s that simple. Like Buck had just been lounging on the stairs of his own volition. Like he hasn’t been trapped there by his own injuries for the better part of an hour.

Buck feels a telltale burning in the back of his nose that he immediately elects to ignore, and belatedly drops his hand into Eddie’s.

By mostly Eddie’s strength, they’re able to get Buck’s near-dead weight upright with an arm thrown over Eddie’s shoulders, lowering himself one agonizing step at a time down to the floor. He’s heaving and sweating and shaking, but he’s once more on solid ground. Eddie maneuvers the bulky cast on Buck’s leg around the obstacles and disarray in the loft before finally, delicately depositing Buck onto the sofa. Buck immediately slumps into the cushions, head rolling back, trying to catch his breath and stave off the worst of the pain.

The next thing he knows, there’s a hand on his shoulder, rousing him gently. Buck opens his eyes to Eddie with his water bottle and the little orange container of pain meds. Pitifully, but gratefully, Buck accepts both.

As soon as he’s swallowed the pills and rehydrated a bit, he finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of touch and motion. Eddie bullying him into a clean shirt. Then there’s a warm, wet cloth wiping down his neck, his face, his arms, and embarrassingly, his armpits. He feels like a ragdoll, letting Eddie maneuver his limbs, his torso, his head.

The last thing Eddie does is tilt Buck’s head down, and absolutely goes to town on his greasy, wild hair with a canister of dry shampoo.

He has no idea if Eddie figured out that’s what Buck had been willing to risk life and limb for on the stairs to retrieve from the loft, or if it was just a lucky pull, but it makes his eyes start to water for real. By the time Eddie has finished his work, Buck is sniffling in earnest. Eddie kindly says nothing, just encourages Buck to rest his forehead against his stomach, just keeps up the charade of combing the powder through Buck’s hair with his fingers until the shaking stops—and then a little longer still.

After a while, Buck reaches up—eyes still closed, face still hidden in the fabric of Eddie’s shirt and the warmth of his stomach, hair still being brushed through by Eddie’s deft fingers—and grasps onto Eddie’s forearm. Squeezes. Releases.

Before he gets too far into untangling himself though, Eddie catches him. The arm Buck had grabbed, rotating and pushing back into Buck’s palm, Eddie’s hand finding its way to the soft swell of Buck’s forearm in kind. A facsimile of a warrior’s arm clasp. But not posturing, no show of strength, simply holding.

After a beat, the hand still in Buck’s hair slides around to the back of his head. Fingertips brushing the shell of his ear. Palm cradling. The charade of an act of service long forgotten.

They breathe.

And Buck lets himself be held.

[now on ao3]

[wowzer-bowzer]

Title: A Perfectly Simple Gesture

Summary: Kate asks you out on a date.

Kate Martin had never been this nervous before a date, and she’d been through plenty of them. But today was different. Today, she wasn’t just going to a party or a casual hangout. Today, she was going to ask someone she deeply cared about out on a proper date.

Kate’s heart pounded as she stood outside of your dorm, clutching a bouquet of bright, colorful flowers and a small box of chocolates. It was a crisp autumn afternoon, and the campus was alive with the sounds of students rushing between classes. The leaves had turned shades of orange and gold, making the scene outside your dorm picturesque and fitting for what Kate had planned.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and finally knocked on the door. A moment later, you opened it, you face lighting up with a bright, genuine smile when you saw Kate standing there.

“Hey, Kate! What’s up?” You asked, your tone warm and curious.

Kate’s nerves were palpable, but she managed a smile as she held out the flowers and chocolates. “Hey, Y/N. I thought I’d surprise you. I brought these for you.”

Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise as you took the bouquet, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers. “Wow, these are beautiful. Thank you Kate, I love them!” You glanced at the box of chocolates with a grin. “And chocolates too? You’re really going all out.”

Kate chuckled, feeling a bit of her nervousness ease. “I guess I wanted to make today special. I was actually hoping we could talk for a minute. Maybe go out for coffee or dinner?”

Your expression softened, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dancing in your eyes. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Kate nodded, her face flushing slightly. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’ve been wanting to spend some more time with you, just the two of us. And I thought this might be a nice way to do it.”

Your smile widened, and you stepped aside to let Kate in. “I’d love that. Let me just put these in water and we can talk about it.”

Kate followed you into your dorm, taking in the cozy, personal touches that made the room feel uniquely yours. The walls were adorned with photos and posters, and a small desk was cluttered with textbooks and notes. It felt intimate, and Kate felt a bit more at ease.

You placed the flowers in a vase and set the chocolates on the desk before turning to Kate. “So, where are we going?” You asked, you eyes twinkling with excitement.

“I was thinking we could try that new café down on Main Street. I’ve heard they have amazing lattes and pastries,” Kate suggested. “We could just hang out and see where the day takes us.”

“That sounds perfect,” you replied, your smile never fading. “I’m really glad you asked.”

Kate felt a rush of relief and happiness. “Me too. I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you, and I thought today would be a great chance to do that.”

You spent a few more minutes chatting and laughing, enjoying the easy camaraderie that had always been a part of your interactions. Finally, you headed out together, walking side by side through the autumn afternoon.

As you reached the café, Kate couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. Everything seemed to be falling into place perfectly. You ordered your drinks and pastries, finding a cozy corner to sit and talk. The conversation flowing effortlessly, punctuated by shared laughter and meaningful glances.

By the time you both finished your coffee and pastries, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city. Kate walked you back to your dorm, feeling a sense of accomplishment and joy for the day.

Once at your dorm, you paused, you both a bit reluctant for the day to end. You looked at Kate with a soft, appreciative smile. “Thank you for today. It was really amazing.”

Kate smiled back, feeling a surge of warmth. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I had a great time too.”

You shared a tender hug, and Kate couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for what might come next. As you closed the door, Kate turned to head back to her own dorm, her heart full of hope and happiness.

The day had been simple but perfect, and Kate knew it was just the beginning of something wonderful.

I would like to thank you, for the support on my last two fix’s. I’m literally so happy. But like seriously thank you. :)

Also I take requests. No smut though. :)

[wovenintosilk]

Stubborn

Received a request through a reblog for something related to Miguel's fangs. It's not exactly focused on them but they're definitely part of it!

No Content Warnings

GN!Reader

Word Count: 1100

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

“Get your fingers away from my mouth. Are you a child?”

You pouted and withdrew your hand, thwarted in your attempts to sneakily lift the corner of your boyfriend’s lip. “I want to see them,” you defended. “They’re so nice to look.”

“If you’re that bored, I will find you something more productive to do,” he reminded you and twisted his face further from your reach. “I’m not in the habit of allowing people to lounge around my workspace for the fun of it.”

“Can my something productive be getting you to smile?”

“Absolutely not.”

You sighed and sank further into your chair, head tilted back to the ceiling you stared at far too much. “You said you would be finished with this by now.”

“It was a possibility but it required far more attention than I expected. It won’t be much longer.”

Miguel’s desire to be busy never surprised you. From the day you’d met him to the day you kissed him for the first time, you always understood why he obsessed in the way he did. It didn’t hurt you but you worried – more about his own health than anything else.

When was the last time he’d even eaten?

“You know, I actually do have a job to get done,” you said. “I’ll be back soon. Try not to get too big of a headache by scowling at that screen.”

“I know.”

The grumbled words didn’t help your concerns. You cast a glance over your shoulder in his direction. The harsh artificial lighting of his office highlighted how he hunched over his work, shone off his suit in a piercing way.

It really couldn’t be good for him to stand like that.

Your first stop took you over an hour to reach and you still didn’t doubt for one second that Miguel would still be working on your return. Though he cared little about food quality lately, you insisted on getting him something healthy and what you knew he would enjoy.

If it took you ages to find, you didn’t mind too much. You knew it wouldn’t impact on your plans going forward.

Around the side of Miguel’s office, a few wires connected just behind a broken section of the wall. You had to hold your breath to squeeze half into it in order to reach them.

“This is a very bad idea.”

You jumped, hit your head against the wall in your startle, and groaned in the unexpected pain. Lyla watched with a humoured smirk from where she’d appeared, projected out of your personal watch.

“It’ll be fine,” you said. “He won’t even know it was me.”

“He will,” she corrected. “But that’s not what I’m worried about. I know you can handle Miguel yourself but I think you shouldn’t play with electricity.”

“When you asked me to get him to take a break, you should have known I’d need to resort to some extreme measures.”

She sighed and waved a hand for you to continue. You squeezed your way further in so you could reach the wire that fed his office and a few of the surrounding halls. Hobie showed you it wouldn’t turn off the rest of the complex when he did it last time as a joke.

“I’ve already backed up everything he’s working on. If he throws you out, I take no responsibility for it.”

You grinned cut the wire. Everything plummeted into darkness around you, computers shut off loudly and the ever-present hum stopped. You grinned proudly and dropped your cutter back into its space before you headed to the office.

You realised one of the main problems when you walked through the doors and spotted him on his platform. The one that wouldn’t move now without electricity.

“Wow,” you said loudly. “Can you believe the timing of this?”

He turned slowly. The silence stretched thickly between you, your smile a match for his glare. Lyla was right, he knew exactly what had happened.

“Either you have to come down here or find a way to get me up there,” you called. “Because I can’t reach you otherwise.”

You held up the food right as a bright web attached to your chest. It pulled you forward and lifted you into the air as though you weighed nothing. It might not be the first time it had happened to you but you’d never really get used to the sensation of being dragged around.

He steadied you when you landed, his hand rested on your arm until you gained your balance back. His lip curled up ever so slightly as he waited.

“I brought food,” you said and sat down in your chair.

“What did you do?”

“Went a ridiculous distance to get this for you,” you noted. “Do you know how far this place is? And then I got back and the power disappeared. Had to walk here in the dark.”

“Do you know how busy I was? How much you may have gotten lost?”

“I’m sure Lyla managed to get it saved. You can take a break while she finds the fault.”

He loomed above you, leaned down and opened his mouth ever so slightly. Finally, you had an opportunity to see those massive fangs you loved so much. You loved his habit of using them to intimidate. He didn’t even do it purposefully.

“You can’t really be blaming me for the electricity,” you said.

“I’m not stupid.”

You finally placed the packet of food aside, reached up and grabbed the front of his suit so you could pull him closer. You used your free hand to cup his jaw, ran your thumb over his bottom lip. Those fangs really were beautiful. What you’d give to have them showing more often…

“I need you to take a break,” you said. “It might take a while to fix. You may as well give your body a small rest, okay?”

Before you let him go, you pressed a small kiss to the underside of his jaw. He leaned into the touch just enough to let you know you���d been somewhat forgiven for your meddling.

He took the food from you, muttered something about stubbornness, and listened as you spoke about everything you’d been waiting to tell him.

[swampstew]

One long night

Summary: short, multi-chapter choose your adventure story. not thought out a single bit. you're the main character,this is your rodeo and Captain Kid is your bull ;)

Warnings: Eustass Kid X Female Reader, consent is implied, femdom dynamics forced orgasm, exhibitionism because its at a dark pub in the back. WC: 971

There was little left of the dive bar the Kid Pirates trashed that evening. Some still-standing yet drunk as fuck local islanders scattered around the place, the busted lights cast a hazy, dim glow in the already dark bar.

Not that the Kid Pirates minded, it was how they liked to wind down before the night ended.

You, Kid and the crew had been sharing stories and laughing over jokes for a while and the chatter quieted down as they drank and polished off the food on the tables. They dwindled and eventually left with knowing glances at each other, but you and Kid were drunkenly talking and barely noticed when the table was empty.  The remaining crew drifted to harass the patrons and mingled with whoever was still around.

“I’m gonna grab us some waters,” you headed to the bar to hydrate and throw down extra cash for tips and damages. You always felt a little bad for owners of businesses they fucked up. It was your collateral-damage cash.

The bartender gave you extra-large mugs filled with ice cubes, and in your inebriated state made you a bit clumsy as you walked back to the table without spilling drop or cube. At the table, Kid had kicked aside the chairs, placing his weapons strap and loose items on the empty seats and table..

Setting the glasses gently down, you felt Kid’s fingers ghost across the small of your back, grazing them to your waist as he guided you to sit in his lap. You tried to ignore the hot buzz you felt along your body as he moved you. You shifted to get comfortable while Kid was finishing his liquor when he suddenly coughed and shuddered underneath you.

“You ok, Boss?”

He cleared his throat before answering, “Y-yeh, drink jus’ went down the wrong pipe.”

Kid prompted you to give him his water, and he let out a few coughs before his voice wasn’t as strained. When his breathing felt more regulated, you brought up a topic from earlier in the day you wanted to double back on – just looking for something to talk about and ignore the fact that you were both past the point of sobriety, and you were plainly sitting in his lap.

He listened and leaned forward to set the half-drunk mug down, and when he sat back upright you had to adjust yourself again having slid down his massive thighs.

Sculpted muscles. Muscles so ripped, you could feel the curves and edges of his quadriceps through the fabric of his pants.

You shifted once more and felt Kid freeze underneath you.

Then you felt something else.

Slowly growing underneath your ass, awakened from the repetitive stimulation. You sucked in a breath when you realized it was his dick.

“Ah-s-sorry, didn’t mean to—” you stammered out.

“It’s ok,” he said tensely. “It happens…”

“I can get off—”

“No,” he cut you off, “It’ll pass. His fingers absentmindedly trailed on the hem of your shirt, trying to steel his mind on to something else. Inadvertently trailing his fingers lower until they dipped beneath the hem touching your bare skin.

Your body broke out in goosebumps, you couldn’t help the shudder that went through your body, shifting on his still-growing erection. You could hear Kid’s jaw click from how hard he clenched them.

Truthfully, you always found him attractive and dreamt more than once about it would be like to smudge that line between captain and subordinate. Feeling for once like you were in position of all the power, you allowed your loosely inhibited state persuade you to intentionally rock on him.

You heard strained grunts as he processed your movements.

Hips dipped back and forth, pressing your wettened core against the promise behind his pants. It felt large, thick, and already so impossibly hard.

The low music that hummed around the bar droned out the others from your table. Only you and Kid existed now. In sensual silence.

You braced your elbows to the table, ass flushed backwards so Kid got a nice view as while you rocked against him. His fingers dug into your hips, trying to exert more force with your grinding.

Kid let out short huffs the closer he got to climax, brought to the brink so suddenly with purposefully long slides of your torturous cunt along his length. His cock stuttered, his arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you tightly to his flushed torso. You felt the twitch of cock as he came with a near-silent, strangled groan.

You chuckled as you fully came to a stop. Spontaneously teasing Kid to completion had exerted you of your energy.

“S’mthing funny, ya asshole?” he muttered with face pressed to the nape of your neck.

“Nothing’s funny, I’m a lil’ proud of myself. I always wanted to do that.”

He said nothing for a minute before the room violently came to life. Kid activated his power and repelled everything in a frenzy inside the bar.

Knives, forks, trays shot out to stab, and weapons slashing and shooting down the bar tender and remaining patrons. Battering them and forcing them out the double wide door before it was barricaded.

“Is that a fact?” he lifted you up with his flesh arm and used his metal arm to clear the table. Kid put force into the way he shoved you belly flat to surface, holding your back down with just one hand.

“Since we’re sharing, this is something I’ve always wanted to do,” his kilt and belt buckles clinked when he pushed his pants down. “You had your fun, now I’ll show you my version of a fun time. Givin’ ya one chance to back out.”

Puffs of excitement prefaced your smirk, “The hell makes you think I’d so something stupid like that?”

[alexandraisyes]

500 FOLLOWERS

Wow. 500 of you. That number feels surreal, especially after everything these past few months. (Don't scroll away there's a surprise at the bottom of the post.)

In July, I faced harassment over a rumor about being hired as a TSAMS writer. In August and September, it escalated—stalking, harassment, and widespread slander over SolarNexus, a ship I don’t even ship. October brought betrayal as someone I trusted turned out to be a predator, slandering our friend group, faking their death, and running away upon confrontation. Last month, I had to take a stand against someone sharing NSFW with minors, leading to more slander and harassment.

Now it’s December, and honestly, fandom discourse feels inevitable. But you know what? I don’t care.

This community has been so supportive to me throughout this. I have grown close with friends, made new ones, and gained so many supporters and I don't know how to say thank you enough. I've reached so many of my goals for this year, and there's always going to be more work to do.

I'm starting a new fic. I'm updating my old ones. I'm making art for a voice actor. I'm a mod in the community server. And I'm finally working on a project again that I started in August.

I’ve been really hesitant to show this project off on main, beyond reblogging things here and there. I won’t reveal which character I specifically play—though it probably wouldn’t be hard to guess.

This project started as a way to support the mod who plays Lunar, who was receiving harassment simply for enforcing their boundaries. Yes, you read that right—they were harassed because they didn’t want to post negative confessions. When we saw that happening, my friends and I got together, and I said, “Haha, wouldn’t it be so cool if we just made a bunch of confession blogs to dunk on the haters and roleplay and shit?”

Within 24 hours, two new blogs popped up. One hasn’t done anything to hurt me, so I won’t name them, but we all know who they are. The second? Biased-tsams-confessions—a blog that was one of the leading forces behind the harassment I faced in August. They would flip their lid if they knew I was the leading force behind TSBS CVAU and remain its head administrator and manager. Honestly? That makes me even prouder of this project.

Of course, I couldn’t do this alone. A huge thank you to my partner in crime, @lyrical-hue, who has been my rock throughout this journey. They’ve helped smooth out the bumps along the way, making sure I don’t handle everything solo.

I’m so excited to finally share this project with my fanbase publicly. We’re expanding our world and currently looking for new members to join the group! If you’re interested, you can apply here:

Okay so now the real question. How am I celebrating this milestone? The past two times I made a post like this I did a raffle (one of which I'm still finishing the artwork for). This time I'd like to do something different.

I want to make some free emotes for the community. My community. To give back some of the support I've been given.

To be applicable for this, reblog this post with references of your character designs, AU designs, OCs, or sonas. As many as you want. They can be your own characters, or personal designs for preexisting characters. Or even just. Characters. I will literally just take canon designs of characters too. I'll even take requests for my own designs. As you can see there are a LOT of emotes there, so I need a LOT of characters from the community.

RULES:

Characters must be submitted through REBLOGS

You do not get to choose which emote is made, I do, I'm doing this for free after all

You HAVE to be following me, this is an event to celebrate my followers after all.

And uh, yeah that's kinda it. If you want to join the discord you can join here:

[fleurriee]

— stress reliever ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; your mate never took to stress well - but you couldn’t deny that it was a good look on him. so, when he comes home with a weight on his shoulders, you allow him to take it out on you.

word count ; 2.5k

themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; explicit content: dom!neteyam, scenting, pussy playing, p in v, let me know if there’s anything else..?

author’s note ; i really don’t know how i feel about this... but we’re gonna role with it. it got quite fluffy at the end bc this is still neteyam we’re talking about & that beautiful boy doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.

main masterlist   request a fic!

Crouched against the floor, you hummed a quiet tune to yourself - your songcord created by yourself, waiting for more words added on with each achievement in your life. Your hands worked tenderly against the objects you were rearranging in front of you, originally believing that it was time for a new look within your tent. 

There wasn’t much else for you to do, after all - you’d prepared your dinner for that night, all it now needed was the heat from the awaiting fire; you’d spent a good amount of time with both Kiri and Tuk, the former wanting your presence next to you as she worked with her grandmother, and the latter wanting you to play whatever she randomly wanted to on that day. You didn’t mind spending your day with little random bits like this, because it was nice to not have to stress over so much weighing down upon your shoulders... unlike your mate.

Several times since moving in together, Neteyam had come home stressed out of his mind - whether it was from the actions of that day, or any upcoming day, it didn’t matter. Neteyam always took everyone’s blame as the older brother, wanting the rest of the clan to see that he would make a good Olo’eyktan one day. And, despite the way he hated the feeling of being distressed, he continued to do it. 

You only hoped today he’d come home happier. 

You were just finishing the end of your songcord, about to start it over again when you heard pounding footsteps from behind you. Turning around, you watched as your mate stormed through the entrance of your tent, hands clenched at his sides and brows furrowed in clear anger. He was mumbling and grumbling under his breath, shaking his head side to side and eyes casted down as you could only hear fucking Lo’ak escape his laboured breathing.

Neteyam had spent the day with the war party, helping his father train the younger hunters for the moment they’d be taking on more challenging tasks to help protect the clan. By both his actions and the cursing of his younger brother, you could only guess that Lo’ak had done something stupid, therefore causing everything else to fall like dominoes, and there was no doubt in your mind Neteyam probably took the blame. 

With your ears high on your head, you moved slowly as you stood up, disregarding your previous task and walking calmly over towards him. “Neteyam?” you questioned, voice soft so as not to startle him too much. You knew he’d never hurt you - he’d rather die before he ever thought about hurting you - but you knew he could set himself off, not wanting to him to spiral down a rabbit hole of despair. “Ma ‘teyam, is everything-”

Your words were cut off so abruptly that you felt the breath hitch in your throat, your legs suddenly leaving the ground as a gasp emanated from your lips. Warm, rough hands grasped themselves against the backs of your thighs, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you close to his chest. He squeezed your soft flesh, your arms holding tightly onto your mate’s shoulders as you stayed suspended in the air. 

In one swift movement, Neteyam had mercilessly untied the knots of your loincloth, movements hurried and fervent, before throwing the material somewhere unknown within your tent to the both of you, without a care for its disregard. At his actions, you couldn’t help the tightening within your core. 

“Need you, my yawne (beloved),” his voice rasped, forcing his head between the junction of your neck and shoulder, leaving teasing bites against your skin. “So fucking stressed, need your body - need your pussy.”

You felt your heat clench around nothing when his rushed words left his mouth and into the warmth of your skin. A whimper left your mouth as his hands squeezed your thighs again, leaving a lingering slap against your cheek. 

“Do you want me to take it out on you?” he questioned harshly, voice low in the back of his throat, sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want me to fuck you senseless, let me fuck all my anger into you?”

A whine, loud and clear, tore through the air, your body subconsciously moving closer to his own, grinding against his abs for some friction. You were so desperate for him, so needy for him, that you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing, mind so foggy, lustful, and full of him.

He left another harsh slap against your ass, rubbing his head further into your neck as he drowned himself in your scent, allowing his own to pore into you, too. “Need you to use your words, my muntxa (mate).”

Swallowing carefully, you attempted to collect your words. You nod your head, your legs tightening around him. “Ye-yes, ma ‘teyam. Please.”

He brought one of his hands around, snaking its way in between your unbelievably close bodies, keeping you firmly in place with just his another one. You could feel his fingers dance teasingly as they lowered further and further down, gasping loudly when you felt the sensation of his cold fingers against your warmth. Neteyam began to rub gentle circles, eliciting a hiss from you, a smirk bubbling up in his throat at your reaction, tail curling around your ankle.

“What do you want, narlor (beautiful)?” His fingers continued their painfully slow pace, knowing that it would drive you over the edge and have you begging - exactly what he wanted. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

You were quick with your words, desperate, lusting for more, for all of him. “You, ‘teyam,” you breath out softly, rubbing your cheek against the top of his head, somehow bringing him all the more closer. “I want you to fuck me.”

A chuckle painted tight against your skin sent you shivering, his fingers moving away from your core and leaving you whimpering at the loss of contact. He loved the way you submitted to him so easily, giving him exactly what he wanted - he loved to hear you beg and plead for more.

He didn’t say anything else - he didn’t have to. In one swift movement, his own loincloth was lying on the floor, his eager and impatient emotions getting the better of him before his entire length was free, slapping softly against your lower stomach as it twitched in anticipation. 

The feeling of him being so close, yet too far had you grinding against him again, his cock rubbing against your skin. Your hands tightened around his neck, fingers cleaving at his hair and pulling. A groan tumbled into your ears at your actions, a faint laugh escaping your lips at the reaction you could garner from your mate. 

But, it was taken away from you the moment you had it. He roughly planted his lips against your own, moving forcefully as your teeth clashed and tongues fought for dominance in a messy show of love. Neteyam wasn’t typically dominant when it came to sex, rather just making love to you the way he knew best - but when he got stressed, he wanted complete and utter control over you. 

And, you loved giving it to him, giving all of you to do whatever he pleased, but you also enjoyed teasing him. You enjoyed making him work for it, pushing so close to the edge he was moments away from snapping, because you knew, in the end, he’d fuck you until you were stuttering, breathless mess.

Hands returning to gripping your ass, squeezing more harshly then ever to show off the power dynamic he was craving, he continued to kiss you, wanting you to lose your breath but have you begging for more. When you pulled away from one another, lips swollen and eyes hooded, Neteyam made sure to keep his attention solely on you when he slammed his lips into your own, forcefully pushing himself inside of you.

On a normal occasion, Neteyam would take his time with you, making sure you were well taken care of and ready for him before bothering with himself. It wasn’t like you needed it, however - since mating, the two of you had had sex too many times to count, too loved up and adoring of one another that you simply couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Now, you knew one another’s bodies like they were your own.

So, when Neteyam’s entire length pushed itself in you, completely bottoming out, a silent scream tore at your throat, eyes clasped shut, mouth agape and head hung back at how good it felt. You were sure there was nothing better in the entire world than the feeling of having Neteyam inside you, the warmth that blistered your body inside and out, the feeling of being full. You loved it.

Neteyam wasted no time in his movements, moving at full speed and not giving you a chance to adjust. He was angry, pent-up emotions getting the better of him as his eyes glazed over and all he could think about was fucking you senseless. He kept his grip firm on you, jaw clenched and eyes hardened as he watched your every reaction. 

With his cock kissing your cervix so intensely, you tightened your entire body around him, arms and legs moving yourself impossibly closer to him. Lewd noises filled up your tent, the mixture of Neteyam’s grunts, your moans, and your wetness beginning to gush out on your mate’s cock combining together as one, you were sure the whole clan could hear.

But, you found yourself not caring. You almost wanted people to hear - wanted them to know how good your mate treated you, how good he made you feel. You wanted them to know you were entirely his.

Another low grunt fell from Neteyam’s lips, his head beginning to fall back and eyes screwing shut at the pure bliss and pleasure consuming him. He loved the feeling of your body clawing closer to his, loved the feeling of your head burying into the crook of his neck as you whimpered lovingly, the sound music to his ears. 

Everything was becoming too much - you could feel yourself reaching closer and closer to the edge, whining submissively for more. “Nete-” you stuttered, not quite getting the correct words out, mind foggy and hazy. “Neteyam.” A guttural moan pierced through the atmosphere alongside his name, the two sounds coming together as he started to hit a specific part inside of you, spongy and warm and perfect. 

Neteyam forced his head forwards again as he continued pounding relentlessly into you, one hand grabbing the back of your hair and pulling it back so your faces were in front of one another, noses touching and breaths mingling. You were a panting mess, words jumbled and unsure - obvious signs that you were close to cumming. 

“You want to cum, my muntxa (mate)?” he asked, mouth wide open as he whispered the words into your own gaping mouth. Little whines were his only response, the sound sending warmth to both his heart and to his cock. “Hmm? You want to cum all over my cock?”

His words sent vibrations running through your entire system, from the bottoms of your toes all the way to your mind, your thoughts running wild. You could feel your tail beginning to shiver, too, another sign that the pleasure you were experiencing was too good, that you were close.

You nodded pathetically at his questions, desperate for him to give you exactly what you wanted. There was a brief moment where you wondered whether he’d stop so suddenly, ripping you away from your orgasm and making you start all over again just because he could. But, his anger was so prevalent, so built-up inside of him that he didn’t have the energy to be doing that - he just wanted to feel you as you let yourself go all over him like the good girl you were.

Your nod and whines were enough of an answer for him. “Then, cum,” he demanded, teeth gritting sharply and fangs pointing menacingly as he picked up speed, his balls slapping against your folds, willing you to cum. “Cum, my muntxa (mate).”

In an instant, you were completely sent over the edge, all mushy and whimpering and shaking as you came down form your high. You could feel Neteyam’s own release filling up your insides, too, painting your walls and swallowing his gravelly moan. His pounding didn’t stop, but it did cease, ensuring that you were both fully satisfied and his cum stayed inside of you exactly where it belonged.

With slow movements, you continued to pant into his mouth, lips messily attempting to kiss one another, sweaty foreheads coming in contact as you rubbed your noses together. The silence that ensued was welcoming, comforting, just the sounds of your aftermath and the scent of the two of you lingering against one another - heaven.

Neteyam continued to hold you in his arms, making sure you were safe in his grasp but softening his hold. He began to caress your skin lovingly, placing a tender kiss against your lips. You found your head leaning more towards his own once he pulled away, not wanting him to part so soon. “Are you okay?” he questioned, the fast-paced situation finally catching up to him. “I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”

A blissful smile played at your lips, loving how he could switch from two different types of dominant in the matter of seconds - fucking you until your thoughts were filled of nothing but his cock, and making sure you were safe and rightfully cared for. Your eyes were still hooded and clouded when you responded, so quiet it was almost inaudible. “No, you were perfect.” Unwrapping one of your hands from around his neck, your cradled his jaw, your thumb rubbing gently under his eye. “Are you okay now?”

He chuckled at your question, understanding that you were insinuating to his stressed-out state when he first came home. Shaking his head, he smiled down at you adoringly. “Much better now, thanks to you.” He noticed your unsure expression, knowing how you’d rather him talk about his problems to you so he wasn’t keeping them entirely to himself. To ease you, he continued to rub your noses together, basking in your euphoric scent. “I’ll tell you about it later... right now, I just want you.”

Still snuggled in his arms, you allowed him to walk the two of you over to your mat in the corner, sitting down first so you could lay comfortably on top of him. The sensation of still having his cock stuffed inside your walls was warming to you, keeping your hands securely around his neck and burying you head further into his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. 

It wasn’t long until you were flat-out, your intimate actions having completely exhausted you. Neteyam stayed awake for a little longer, listening to your comforting breathing as the stress dispersed from his body entirely. There wasn’t anything better than being with you - in any way possible, he wasn’t picky - your demeanour having the wonderful ability to soothe him, to bring him back down to earth. 

Neteyam couldn’t have asked for a better mate - and he thanked Ewya everyday for blessing him with you. 

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

Family Gathering with Fernando Alonso

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 05: family gathering — fernando alonso x reader

note: anticipated this one because yes i adored the concept (i absolutely do not fantasize about introducing nando as my bf to my family like who would ever do that !!)

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You and Fernando walked hand in hand to your old house’s door. The time eventually came: Christmas, the day you’ll be finally introducing your fiancée to your family.

You couldn’t help spending weeks being worried about it. Fernando was the best man you’ve ever met, but your age difference was very clear, and you feared your parents’ judgment. You procrastinated as long as you could, but they insisted to invite the two of you to celebrate together and you knew you couldn’t say no anymore.

Fernando sensed your worries by the squeeze of your hand in his. “Querida, don’t be anxious. I’m sure we’ll spend a wonderful day.” His hazel eyes, full of endearment, found yours.

His words reassured you just enough to make you woman up and rang the doorbell.

Your sister opened the door. She greeted you and let you in, but you didn’t miss her pupils widening imperceptibly when they lay on your new boyfriend. When he walked past her to get in, she turned to you and winked. “Well done sis.” She mouthed in your direction, careful not to be seen by Fernando.

You smirked, amused by her reaction.

In the living room, your parents were chatting while your brother was playing a videogame. They all turned around when you walked in. “Hello.”

“Here’s the new couple!” Your mom exclaimed, and wrapped you in a hug. “We missed you, Y/N.” The same did your dad.

Your mom gaze shifted on Fernando. He extended his hand. “I’m Fernando, a pleasure to meet you.”

Her expression was illegible. She shook his hand. “Hello Fernando, nice to meet you too. It’s so good to know our daughter finally found someone who can put up with her attitude.”

You blushed a little, shaking your head in embarrassment.

“Yeah, enough to keep up with mine.” He smiled in your direction. Could you ever have wished for a better boyfriend?

Your dad’s face betrayed his thoughts, but he too shook firmly his hand without a second thought. “Welcome in the family.” You couldn’t blame him, seeing his daughter with an older man must be a lot.

“Wait– that’s Fernando Alonso!” The voice of your brother interrupted the introductions. He jumped over the couch and reached you. “Oh my god, you’re in a relationship with a Formula 1 World Champion!” Your parents looked confused, then seemed to realize that just now. “How much do you make a year?”

“Y/B/N!” Scolded him your mom, casting him a bad look. “That’s not a question to ask!”

Fernando laughed. “Don’t worry.” He looked at the tv and noticed his videogame. “Are you playing Gran Turismo?”

“Yeah, but I’m stuck at this level.”

“Want a help?”

Your brother’s smile now was larger than ever. “Please!”

And that’s how your boyfriend, your dad and your brother all ran to the couch.

Your mon chuckled at the sight. “Alright then, we’re going to help grandma in the kitchen, if you boys don’t mind.”

Lunch was almost ready, you and your mom were finishing preparing the appetisers. “So… do you love him?”

The question took you aback. “I…” You thought about Fernando’s laugh, about the his gentleness, about the way he made you feel. Your lips curved in a dreamy smile. “Yes, I do.”

“And does he love you?”

Does he love me?

In your mind flashed suddenly all the times he had to run away for work during the week, and about the red rose he left in your house every time, to make you feel his presence, even in his absence. Every single time. And as soon as he was back, he was at your door, with a bouquet of roses, ready to take you out on a date. “He does.”

Your mother seemed satisfied with the answer. “Perfect. That’s all that matters.” She caressed your hair and placed a kiss on your head. “He looks like a nice guy.” She took the plate with the appetisers and headed to the dining room, before turning to you one last time. “And very handsome indeed.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “Mom!”

Lunch went wonderfully, to your surprise. You had fun, telling stories and making jokes (which some were about you, of course). Your grandma kept saying how charming Fernando was and how lucky he was to meet a girl like you, making you awkwardly flush from time to time. Even your dad was getting along well with him.

When you and Fernando left, driving back home, he couldn’t stop talking about how cool your family was.

“I’m so happy everything went well.” You said, landing a hand on his thigh and affectionately smiling at him.

“Told you, querida. How could they not like me?”

You chuckled. “Right.” You paused, thoughtful. “This is probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” Because of you, you implied. “Thank you, Nando.”

You reached a red light. He turned towards you. “No, thank to you.” He closed the distance between the two of you and kissed you deeply. Your hand on his thigh stroked it slowly.

He broke the kiss when the traffic light turned green. “You know, I loved your parents’ house, but right now I really want to go back to ours.”

[supernotnatural2005]

An Anniversary to Remember

Paring: Jensen x Reader

Summary: After a gruelling day of travel and a series of frustrating delays, Jensen finally returns home to you. Though at what cost? There is an hour left of your first anniversary as a married couple. However, once inside, Jensen is quickly reminded that, despite the hurdles, love always finds a way to make up for lost time.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: SMUT!!! (18+ ONLY), Swearing, fluff, husband!Jensen - Yes PLEASE!!! 😩

AN: So this had been in the works for a little while. Finally got around to finishing it. Just a little Husband!Jensen fantasy for ya and an excuse to write some filth, sue me 😅. Also no hate to his family. This is just purely fiction.

Main Masterlist

When Jensen pulled up to his home, it was late—much later than he’d wanted to return.

He exited the Uber with a quiet thanks, his suitcase in hand, and his heart heavy with disappointment. The house was dark, and he knew what that meant—you had probably fallen asleep. Guilt twisted in his stomach, despite knowing it wasn’t entirely his fault. 

His flight had been delayed by four hours, and he’d tried to remind himself that these things happened, that he’d rather get home in one piece than not at all. But it didn’t make him feel any better. 

This was your first anniversary as a married couple, and he’d spent most of it on a plane, feeling like the world was conspiring against him.

You’d been teasing him all day with sweet messages and playful hints about a surprise you had planned for him. You’d said you missed him, and as much as he hated being apart from you, your words had made the hours drag even more. 

Every text had left him more desperate to get back home to you. He hadn’t expected the universe to throw him one last delay, making the clock tick closer to midnight, the anniversary slipping through his fingers.

It wasn’t your fault, he repeated in his head. It didn’t help the knot of frustration that twisted in his chest, though. A part of him wanted to stew in his irritation for the rest of the night. The entire day had felt like a mess, and here he was, at the doorstep of his home, with an hour left of the day that marked an incredible milestone of your relationship.

He stepped inside quietly, careful not to wake you. You hadn’t texted him since he’d landed about an hour ago, another painful reminder of how late it was. The house was dark and silent, as opposed to the ticking of the analogue clock hanging on the wall in the foyer.

Flipping on the downstairs light, he placed his suitcase by the door with a sigh and then toed off his shoes, deciding to deal with the mess of the day tomorrow. But as he reached the bottom of the stairs, something caught his eye—something that made his heart race with both confusion and a spark of hope.

A trail of tea-light candles flickered on each step, casting warm pools of light against the wood, leading up the stairs. Between the candles were scattered rose petals, their deep red hues contrasting beautifully against the dark wood. 

Jensen’s brows furrowed in surprise. Could you still be awake? Or had you set all of this up and fallen asleep waiting for him?

If you were asleep, he was going to have to seriously grill you about fire safety—he could already imagine you leaving the candles burning in a half-dream state, only to wake up and find half the house had burnt down.

He couldn’t resist. A smile tugged at his lips as he followed the trail, carefully stepping over the rose petals as to not slip on them with his socked feet. His heart thudded in his chest, hope flickering again as he reached the top of the stairs. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, a soft, warm light spilling out from the gap. The unmistakable scent of roses filled the air, mixing with the faint aroma of you—the soft vanilla scent of your lotion, the warmth of your perfume.

His concern shifted to worry again as he reached the door. What if you’d passed out with the candles still lit, too exhausted from waiting for him? What if he’d walked into a disaster? He pushed open the door gently, a wave of surprise washing over him when he saw the room.

It looked like something out of a dream.

The bed was framed by delicate fairy lights strung around the headboard, and more rose petals were scattered across the white sheets in a beautiful pattern. The soft glow of the candles reflected off everything, casting the room in a gentle golden light. And there you were, kneeling in the centre of the bed, looking every bit like the angel he’d married.

You wore a luxurious black silk robe, the fabric gliding over your skin, and it was tied loosely at the waist, leaving just enough to tease the red lace underneath. Your hair was styled softly, a few tendrils framing your face, and your makeup was subtle but somehow accentuated every beautiful feature.

Jensen was at a complete loss for words. You looked… breathtaking. No, more than that. You looked like something ethereal, something he didn’t deserve but was lucky enough to have. His heart skipped in his chest, and the earlier irritation melted away, replaced by a profound sense of love and gratitude.

“Y/N… I… wow,” he stammered, his voice catching in his throat as his eyes swept over you and the room. His gaze bounced from your glowing skin to the fairy lights around the bed, the petals scattered so carefully on the sheets. 

He took it all in, shaking his head, still in disbelief. “I didn’t think—I—I can’t believe you did all of this.”

You smiled softly at his bafflement, your eyes filled with affection as you held his gaze, looking at him like he hung the stars.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” you whispered, your voice low, sensual—like it was meant only for him. The words made his chest tighten with emotion, and he swallowed hard, his hands shaking just slightly as he stepped toward you. 

The exhaustion from the past two weeks of travel was weighing heavily on him, but the sight of you, so beautifully waiting for him, made him forget it all. You shuffled on your knees to meet him halfway, your soft silk robe brushing against your skin as you closed the distance.

"I thought you’d never make it," you teased gently, your hands sliding up his chest, over the fabric of his shirt, sending warmth through his body. “You’re always so late, Mr. Ackles.”

Jensen let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he stood in front of you. The height of the bed and you kneeling on it, allowing you to be at eye level with him. 

"I’m so sorry, baby," he murmured, his hands coming up to cup your face. "I hate that I missed today. I wanted to be here for you—especially tonight."

“You’re here now,” you said with a soft smile, a look of understanding and love in your eyes. “And that’s all that matters.”

He leaned in slowly, kissing you, soft at first, almost reverently, savouring the feel of you against him after the long, gruelling day. His lips moved over yours, deepening the kiss, as if he was making up for every minute he’d missed.

When he pulled back, he just looked at you—looked at how you’d made this night so special despite the chaos of the day. And it hit him all at once: how lucky he was, how much he loved you.

You pulled him closer, your hands sliding around his neck, and in a low voice, you whispered, "Well, you may have been late, but I think you’ll more than make up for it."

Jensen chuckled softly, pressing his forehead to yours. "Trust me, I intend to."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, making good on his promise for the lost hours, the missed days. His hands tangled in your hair, his body pressing against yours, as if this was the first time in years he’d been able to touch you like this.

You melted at his touch, his mouth, his careful but purposeful hands as they glided over the lines and dips and curves of your body. He touched you and kissed you with such familiarity, like your body was a well-revised map and he knew just the right spots before he got to his destination. 

You sighed as his lips strayed away from yours, now beginning their descent, starting with your jaw down towards your neck. His first stop, the little sensitive patch of skin he’d discovered behind your ear, just below your jaw. Your pitiful moans of pleasure as he latched on, sucking, nipping, and lapping until your breaths were harsh and short, filled him with pride. 

An impatient tug of his hair brought not only a spark of pleasure but also gave him the incentive to continue his journey. His lips passed over your collarbones, only a brief acknowledgement needed before he made it to the first landmark. However, he had an obstacle in his path, one that he needed removed in order to see the twin peaks in all their glory. 

The inside pun had Jensen smirking briefly.

He pulled away from you, the heat in your gaze keeping him warm as he made work on the first part of the barricade. His hands reached up and glided over your smooth skin, slowly guiding the silk robe off of your shoulders and down your arms. He watched intensely as goosebumps arose on your newly exposed skin and the sheer red lace barely contained your heaving breasts. 

God, you were beautiful.

He could see the dark outline of your nipples poking through the fabric, tormenting him, practically begging him to take a bite, and so he did. He leaned down, closing his mouth around the hardened nub, grazing his teeth against your sensitive flesh. Your gasp of surprise, which quickly melted into a low moan, spurred him on until he had enough of the fabric barrier and roughly tore the cup down, exposing your tit, desperate to taste your bare skin. 

“Oh God.” You sighed and clung to him blindly as he assaulted your chest with his delectable mouth. With every sweep of his tongue, graze of his teeth, white-hot shocks of pleasure, shot straight to your core. And before you knew it, the item of clothing was expertly unclasped and pulled from your body, leaving your tits bare and for the taking. 

Jensen took the moment to admire the sight. His eyes trailed between the smooth valley to the ruby-red peaks, pointed, sharp, and tempting. He bit back a groan as his large hands cupped each breast, relishing in their weight and massaging them in his palms in continued amazement. 

“Holy fuck, I’ve missed these.” Jensen wonders aloud, and you can’t help your giggle, though breathy at his delightful ministrations. He leans down once more to place a longing kiss on each tit before ascending back to your lips once more. 

You pull him onto the bed with you as he encourages you to lie down, his body moving to hover over yours, blanketing you in his weight and warmth as he kisses you breathless.

Shifting his weight to your side, do you then feel his hand travel from your cheek, stopping shortly to grope your chest before dipping further down until the tips of his fingers breach your panty line.

Your hips rise on their own accord at the feeling, desperate for him to just slip inside and relieve some of the pressure, and he smirks against your lips. 

“Please, baby, no more teasing.” You plead, sensing the look on his face and where his mind was drifting. He concedes, however, looking at the digital clock on the nightstand, he still had 30 minutes left of your anniversary to make up to you. 

“I gotcha, baby.” He husks against your lips, pecking them once before he fully removes himself. You keen at the loss, but excitement fills you as he stands to remove his shirt and jeans. You can’t help but clamp your thighs shut at the impressive tent bobbing in his boxers with his movements. Your pussy throbs at the sight and memory of him. 

He climbs back onto the bed, but this time settles between your legs. With a heated gaze, he pulls the last piece of clothing from your body, and you help him by lifting your legs as he guides the dampened cloth up and off. 

His eyes darken at the obvious wet patch on the crotch area. “Fuck. You’ve ruined them, darlin’.” He groans low in his throat as his thumb sweeps across your mess. You bite your lip, 25% embarrassed and 75% turned the fuck on. 

“What? I’ve missed my husband.” You defend coyly and watch his eyes darken at your words, his hand becoming a tight fist around the wet lace, as if he was trying to hold himself back from pouncing on you. 

Instead he drops the fabric to the floor and gently pries your closed legs open. With his eyes locked on yours, he dips down until he is finally face to face with one of the greatest discoveries he’d ever made. 

You bite your lip as he exposes you, his face so close to your pulsing cunt you can feel his warm breath as he braces himself more comfortably between your thighs. 

“Look at you.” He hums in delight as his eyes roam over the glistening lips of your pussy. He’s painfully hard at this point; even the gentle rut of his hips against the mattress does nothing to elevate the pressure. But none of that matters; he can wait, just like you had to for him. And boy, he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a treat in itself. 

With one last appreciative look, he descends, his tongue flicking out to lick up the seam of your sex. The taste of you instantly explodes onto his taste buds, and his eyes flutter shut. Your cry out in pleasure, the sound shooting straight to his cock and tickling his pride, and so he repeats the action again and again and again, until you’re fisting his hair tight in your grasp and gyrating your hips against his face. 

He growls deep in his chest, something primal sparking to life in him at your little whimpers and begging hands. He grips the tops of your thighs tightly, keeping them spread as he divulges himself like a starved man into your sweet pie. 

You gasp, cry, and shout as his mouth brings you to heights only he ever could. He works you over like a fiddle, expertly plucking the strings that pull from you the sweetest-sounding melodies. 

It’s not long at all before you feel the familiar coil pull tight in your lower belly. Perhaps it was his absence, the long nights spent without his touch, the teasing messages and hushed whispers over the phone of all you wished to do to each other in the night. But he had your explosive climax erupt and jostle you to your core in a matter of minutes. Your body convulsing and twitching against his gifted mouth. 

He lapped at everything you dispelled hungrily, simultaneously working you through your descent back down to earth. You panted harshly, your heart beating hard enough to be heard in your ears, and down below you felt his affectionate kiss against your sex, your thighs, your stomach, all the way up your body until you were eagerly pulling his lips to yours. 

You groaned at the taste of yourself against his tongue and pulled him impossibly close, digging your feet into his backside for the sweet press of his clothed cock against your sensitive pussy. His eyes rolled back, and he pulled away from your fervent kiss at the contact. 

With a mischievous smile, you slid your legs high up his sides to get a grip on the waistband of his boxers with your feet, pushing them down far enough for his cock to spring free. He was quick to catch on and, with a smirk of his own, hurriedly kicked the clothing from his legs. 

As he settled above you, your gazes meeting, skin to skin, time seemed to slow down. In that precious moment, everything else fell away, leaving only the two of you. Your heart beat a little faster, not from haste or urgency, but from the depth of what you were sharing—a quiet, intimate kind of togetherness that spoke volumes without words. 

You took the moment to admire him, your husband, tracing the familiar curve of his jaw, the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. A year of marriage had passed in the blink of an eye, but somehow, it felt like a lifetime, woven together with moments like this—small, yet monumental.

You let your mind drift to the path that had brought you here. Of course, there had been challenges, especially when he had to leave for longer stretches of time—those weeks that stretched endlessly, when all you could do was wait, counting down the days until he came home. But even then, you never once questioned your love for him. Every moment apart only made the time together sweeter. Your desire for him, your love, your unwavering commitment never wavered. Because he was more than enough. He always had been.

“God, I love you,” Jensen murmured quietly, his voice rough with emotion, as his hand slid through your hair, tracing the soft lines of your face. His eyes—so full of adoration, so full of everything you needed—met yours, and in that gaze, you saw more than just love. You saw the years of trust, the comfort of knowing each other completely, and the certainty that this was exactly where you both needed to be.

His touch, so tender, was a promise. His words, though simple, were everything. You could feel your heart swell in your chest, so full of him, of this life you'd built together.

"I love you too," you replied, the words easy but carrying the weight of everything you’d felt in the time since you first met him. It wasn't just love—it was gratitude, it was awe, it was certainty. How lucky you were, how incredibly lucky, to love someone as honest, as kind, and as beautiful as him—and to have that love returned, freely and without hesitation.

Jensen’s smile deepened, warm and effortless, as if he could never tire of hearing those words from you. You were his anchor, his lighthouse—bright, sturdy, and always there to guide him home. In the quiet aftermath of your shared confessions, he pressed his forehead gently to yours, the connection between you both solid and real. The weight of the world could have been on his shoulders, but in this moment, with you, he was home.

And with that final thought, his lips found yours once more, slow and steady at first before the simmering fire roared to life. Your kisses became desperate, rough, and dirty, working you up until you were begging for him to fill you, to make you feel whole again.

And so he did. 

You gasped as he finally pressed into you, his blunt cockhead stretching you so deliciously, you forgot how to breathe. He moaned as your tight walls clamped around him, the feeling familiar yet new, for how long it had been, and god, had he missed the feel of you. 

You slid your arms around him, your hands gliding along his toned back, nails biting into his skin as he bottomed out, and he paused, giving you a minute to reaccommodate to his size. Your panted breaths combined in the small space between you, and it wasn’t long before you were begging him to move.

Jensen took your cue with a nod and pulled his hips back before slowly sliding back in. Repeating the motion once, twice, a third time, until he felt less resistance, your body opening up to him, welcoming him to fuck you like you deserved. 

You felt heavenly, so wet, so snug, and the sounds you made were driving him wild. He was barely holding it together. Your face contorting in pleasure before him was almost too much; your mouth forming a little ‘O’ shape every time he hit that sweet spot inside you. 

You held on, you pleaded, you cried as he gave you every bit of himself and then some. Pounding into you over and over again, the sweet drag of his cock sending shivers throughout your entire being, your nerve endings alight and on fire. 

He could feel the flutter of your walls, the give and pull of your pussy both sucking him in and almost pushing him out. His hands fisted the sheets beside your head, internally praying to himself to last long enough for you to come again. He had to feel it, no, needed to feel you come over his cock.

“Oh fuck! Right there!” You cried, pulling him impossibly close, wanting to feel every bit of him as he pulled another mind-blowing orgasm from you. Your toes curled, your body tensed, your grip unrelenting as he pumped once, twice more before he too was following you with a deep moan into utter bliss. 

He panted heavily above you, your bodies clammy and sticking together, but as you looked at him, a dopey smile on your face, nothing else mattered. With a humorous huff of exertion, he pressed his forehead to yours, and you ran a soothing hand through his damp strands, smiling at the low rumble emitting from his chest at the action. 

Jensen pulled away after a long, quiet moment, just basking in the post-lovemaking afterglow, his smile warm and contagious. His eyes flickered over to the clock on the nightstand. 23:59. 

“Looks like I made it up to you just in time.” He joked with a nod of his head in the direction of the clock. You looked at the bold red numbers and shook your head. 

“Oh, you still have plenty more making up to do, mister.” You chided him with a light-hearted slap against his shoulder. “Besides, I still have yet to give you my gift.” You mumbled with a teasing smile against his lips. He pulled back with a curiously raised brow, and you giggled. 

“And what might that be?” He wondered, his eyes wide and curious. 

“Kiss me, and maybe you’ll find out—” His lips pressing to yours silenced you with muffled laughter, and just like that, the world outside—everything that had delayed him, everything that had gone wrong—was long forgotten. There were only the two of you, here, now, in a moment he hoped to cherish forever. 

AN: I hope y'all enjoyed this one! It's pure filth I know but I sprinkled some sweet romance in there ☺️ Let me know what you think! And Happy reading! 📖💕

[wbtsan]

WINTER NIGHT SERADE - C.SAN

synopsis. being able to meet with your childhood best friend after years of being apart melts your heart. and san definitely changed but he looked even more beautiful then before.

pairing. san x female!reader | tags. yea no idea it's just slice of life ig? | genre. fluff | wc. tbc | masterlist | @starlit-network @illusionnet @newworldnet @k-labels

authors note. LONG TIME NAUR SEE..!! i took a big ass hiatus since i had no motivation but i manage to finish a piece of writing so i hope you enjoy this :)

winter wrapped its icy fingers around the city, frosting windows and softening the world with a blanket of white. it was the kind of evening you’d always dreamed about—silent streets, snow gently falling from the heavens and the warm glow of streetlights casting halos on the ground. you tugged your coat tighter around you, your breath puffing out in tiny clouds as you waited in front of a tiny bookshop. san was late. again. you didn’t mind, not really. san always had a way of making every moment with him feel worth the wait. still, as you stamped your feet to fight off the cold, you were starting to question whether you should just head inside. “over here!” you turned toward the sound of the yell and there he was—san, bundled up in a thick scarf and coat, his cheeks pink from the cold. he was jogging toward you, a sheepish grin on his face. “i know, i know,” he said as he reached you, slightly out of breath. “i'm late. but I come bearing gifts.” he held up a small, steaming thermos. “hot chocolate. peace offering?” you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “you're lucky i like hot chocolate. and you.” san's grin widened, his dimples showing. god, his dimples has that way that always made your heart feel too big for your chest. “well, you’re lucky i like you enough to brave this cold,” he teased, offering you the thermos.

the two of you walked together through the quiet streets, sipping the hot chocolate and sharing stories about your week. san had a way of making even the smallest things feel exciting. he told you about a dance routine he was working on, complete with exaggerated reenactments that had you laughing so hard you spilled a little of the hot chocolate on your gloves. “okay, okay, i'll stop,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “but you have to admit, i'm pretty good at making you laugh." “maybe,” you replied, feigning nonchalance. “but only because you’re ridiculous.” he gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d wounded him. “ridiculous? me? i'll have you know, i'm nothing short of charming.” you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away.

eventually, you reached the park, its snow-covered paths glistening in the moonlight. the world felt impossibly still, as if it belonged only to the two of you in that moment. san stopped walking and turned to face you, a serious expression softening his usually playful features. “hey,” he said quietly, his voice a warm contrast to the cold air. “can I show you something?" you nodded, curious. san dropped his bag to the ground and pulled out a small speaker. he fiddled with it for a moment before music began to play—a soft, instrumental melody that seemed to blend perfectly with the snowy landscape. then, he held out his hand to you. “may I have this dance?” you blinked at him, taken aback. “here? in the snow?” “why not?” his dimples returned, bright and cute. “the world feels like a fairytale right now and you’re the main character. it'd be a shame not to make the most of it.” your cheeks warmed, though you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or his words. hesitantly, you placed your hand in his and he pulled you close.

the two of you swayed together in the snow, his arms wrapped around you as the music played on. neither of you spoke, but it didn’t matter. the silence was comfortable, filled with unspoken words and the steady rhythm of your hearts. when the song ended, san didn’t let go. instead, he rested his forehead against yours, his dark eyes searching yours. “you know,” he said softly, his voice almost lost in the wind, “i think i'm going to remember this night forever.” you smiled, your breath mingling with his in the frosty air. “me too.” for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. just you, san and the snow falling around you—a perfect snapshot of happiness. and in that moment, you knew that wherever life took you as long as san was there, it would always feel like home.

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Introductions)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “Mindy!” Tara screeched when the other girl ran off to grab the taser. When she came back, she at least looked apologetic as she handed Sam the taser. “Sam,” Tara said again.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.6k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

You made your way through the streets of New York, your earbuds in as you weaved in and out of the crowds. You had just gotten off the subway and were now walking to Tara’s apartment. It had been a few weeks since the Ghostface attack and you were healed up enough to be ready to officially meet Sam and the others. You had gotten your cast off a few days ago and were now set to wear a brace for a few more weeks.

Tara had barely left your side once you got discharged from the hospital. She went home with you and practically moved in for the last few weeks. The only time she wasn’t with you was when she had class and she had actually gotten out of going to class the first week but then no one would accept her excuses anymore. You hadn’t returned to class yet, you were set to return soon though but until then your professors had been understanding and since most of your assignments were online you were still able to do them and most of your classes had a friend in them who just took notes for you and the ones that didn’t have friends, your professors were kind enough to email you the important information.

Besides going back to the hospital for a checkup on your injuries, this was the first time you had been out of your house, not that you were complaining. You were enjoying the free time, even though you still couldn’t do big movements without being in pain, and you had to sleep sitting up slightly because of your ribs.

Tara had been reluctant to leave your side again today, but it seemed she was more nervous about you coming over, so she left you in the morning to go home and make sure everything went smoothly. You weren’t sure what needed to be prepared, you were just going over for dinner and as far as you knew they were just ordering pizza. Based on hundreds of texts you had been getting though it was clear Tara was panicking over you officially meeting Sam, with some panicking over your wellbeing sprinkled in. She’d send a text assuring you Sam wouldn’t be mean and then another asking to make sure you took your pain meds.

The podcast you were listening to was just finishing up as you made it to the front of the apartment. You stared up at the tall building, you began bouncing your leg, realizing you were about to officially meet Sam. You had been comforting Tara and telling her not to be nervous and now here you were, shaky legs and sweaty hands at the idea of walking up the few steps and opening the door to officially step inside the apartment building. You gave your shoulders a good shake before quickly running up the steps and flinging the door open. You had nothing to be afraid of, you knew that Tara was going to be there and most likely holding your hand the entire time and Anika was also going to be there.

You made your way up all the stairs. You totally understood why Sam wanted an apartment on the top floor, but you were not a fan of stairs. When you finally reached the top floor, you slipped out your earbuds and put them in your pocket. You took a deep breath before raising your hand and giving the door three soft knocks. A few seconds later there was the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the door and what sounded like someone lightly running into the door.

“Behave!” Tara whisper shouted. You couldn’t help but silently chuckle. “No, Mindy!” came again. “Sit!” you continued to laugh as you pulled out your phone, shooting Tara a text saying you could hear everything. “Shit,” came a quiet whisper that told you Tara was the one standing right on the other side of the door.

The door was quickly ripped open and standing before you was Tara, smiling brightly. “Hi!” she said a little to cheerfully.

“Hey,” you said, staring at her as you tried to contain your laughter.

You stood there staring at her as she used her body to block the inside of the apartment. You raised your eyebrows, but she didn’t seem to take the hint that she needed to move for you to enter. “Yo, you gonna let her in or what?” came Chads voice.

“Shut up!” Tara snapped, turning around to glare at Chad. When she turned back to you, she quietly stepped aside, trying to hide her blush.

You quietly giggled as you stepped into the apartment. Before you could take in the entirety of the apartment and even before Tara could close the door you were hit with an abrupt force causing you to stumble back. You let out a groan of pain as you felt arms wrap around your neck.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Anika mumbled into your shoulder.

“Gentle, gentle,” you said, moving your body back slightly.

“Oh my god!” Anika cried, quickly letting go of you. “Did I hurt you? I thought you were healed. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“I’m good,” you assured her. “It just takes a while for ribs to heal, they’re still a bit sensitive.”

“I’m so sorry! Let me make it up to you,” her eyes darted around the room as if she was looking for something to give you. “Oh! I can do our final audio project!”

“No!” you quickly shouted, holding up your hands. “Please, anything but that.” You looked at her with wide eyes. “I have a hundred in that class and would like to keep it. You can put your name on the project and present though.”

Anika’s arms fell as she began to pout. “Fine,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “I still want to make it up to you. Let me buy you a soundtrack!”

You rolled your eyes, letting you a soft sigh. “Fine, we can go to the record store tomorrow.”

“I thought we were hanging out tomorrow,” Tara pouted.

“I figured you were coming with,” you said, turning towards your girlfriend.

“Good,” she smiled and then quickly intertwined her hand with yours.

“You have a record player?” Mindy asked. She was standing across the room with her arms crossed but she seemed genuinely surprised, and her eyes were wide with curiosity.

“Yeah,” you said shyly. “You just get a better sound.”

“That’s cool,” Mindy nodded, uncrossing her arms. “Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure.”

“Yay!” Anika said, clapping her hands. “It can be like a double date!”

Chad gasped in offense, raising his arms as everyone turned to look at him. “You can come too,” Anika said.

“Yeah, be the fifth wheel,” Mindy said. “Might as well get used to it.”

Chad crossed his arms, clenching his jaw as he glared at his sister.

“Oh, Sam!” Anika said, spinning around to face the only person who had yet to speak. “Why don’t you come to? We can make it a bonding experience!”

Sam looked at Anika with a blank face. You were still waking up when Sam had been at the hospital and you had only seen her from a distance so you weren’t sure what her reaction would be, you couldn’t tell if this was her happy face, her angry face, or just her face.

“How about we see how dinner goes first,” Sam said, smiling at Anika before turning back to you and Tara with narrowed eyes.

“Sam,” Tara warned, gripping your hand just a bit tighter.

She slowly walked up to the two of you, the others subtly clearing a path. She stopped in front of you, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. You couldn’t help but gulp, you stared straight back into Sam’s eyes. You were trying to portray strength and confidence, even though you were sure that was most definitely not what was coming across to Sam.

“Mindy,” Sam said calmly. “Hand me the taser on the counter.”

Your eyes widened but you didn’t break your stare from Sam’s, not because you were confident, no, now you were afraid to look away. You would have backed away but there wasn’t anywhere to go with Tara gripping your hand and the wall right behind you.

“Mindy!” Tara screeched when the other girl ran off to grab the taser. When she came back, she at least looked apologetic as she handed Sam the taser. “Sam,” Tara said again.

Sam played with the small taser in her hands. She held the taser in front of your face as she clicked the button, making the apartment fill with the loud crackling sound. You couldn’t help but flinch, squeezing Tara’s hand in the process.

“Here you go,” Sam said, holding out the taser to you with a soft smile.

Everyone in the apartment remained frozen. You slowly let go of Tara’s hand to grab the taser. “Thanks,” you said hesitantly as you looked down at the taser before slipping it into your pocket.

“I assume you know how to use it considering you put up a decent fight against Ghostface,” Sam explained, scratching the back of her neck. “This is just an extra form of protection. It’s also a thank you for protecting my sister.”

“My pleasure,” you said softly, your body instantly relaxing. “Thank you.”

“I’m Sam, Tara’s older sister,” Sam introduced herself, holding out her hand.

“Y/N,” you took Sam’s hand, giving it a good shake. “Tara’s secret girlfriend.” At that everyone let out the breath they had been holding in and lightly chuckled.

“Oh, I expect to hear all about that.” Sam flicked a glare towards her sister “Over pizza, come on.” She nodded and made her way back into the dining room.

As everyone turned to follow her, you let out a relieved breath before looking at Tara. Tara was still staring forward at the now empty space; you gave her hand a light squeeze. Tara looked back at you with a small smile. She returned your hand squeeze before leading you into the dining room. You saw the gang left two chairs next to each other empty for you and Tara. When the two of you took your seats, Tara scooched her chair just a bit closer so even though she couldn’t hold your hand your knees were touching.

“So, I have to ask,” Chad said after a few minutes, a mouth full of pizza. “Where did you learn to fight?”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t call what I did fighting,” you answered, making sure to swallow your food first.

“Come on!” he threw his head back. “You were on the phone with,” he gestured towards Tara. “And you still managed to hear Ghostface and fight him off for as long as you did.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I watch a lot of Criminal Minds?” you played with the crust of your pizza. “And true crime. I guess I just always wonder how those people don’t see someone standing right there behind them or right outside their window and it made me more aware of my surroundings.”

Chad nodded along, taking in everything you were saying as he shoved more pizza into his mouth. “And I’ve seen Tangled,” you added. “I know exactly how good of a weapon a frying pan can be.”

“Do you play baseball?” Mindy asked.

“No,” you said, wrinkling your nose in disgust at the idea of playing sports.

“Why’d you have a bat?”

“In case someone ever broke in,” you said as if it was obvious.

Everyone continued to chat and finish off the pizza. You weren’t sure how many pieces Chad downed; you wouldn’t be surprised if he ate one pizza all by himself. You were no longer questioning why Sam bought two large pizzas, bread sticks, and cheesy bread.

You tapped your phone, looking at the time, you let out a sigh seeing how late it was. “I should head out,” you said. Tara turned to you pouting. “I’d rather not walk home alone to late.” Tara continued to pout. “Weren’t you the one complaining earlier when I said I was taking the subway even though it was daylight?” Tara grumbled something incoherent before crossing her arms.

“You can stay here,” Sam said, making everyone snap their heads in her direction.

“Really?” you asked. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t want you having to walk home alone when it’s this late.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“As long as it’s okay with your parents at least,” Sam added. “I’m surprised your mom let you leave the house alone after what happened.”

“That’s because they’re still out of town,” Tara said.

“Really?” Mindy asked. “They didn’t fly home the second they heard their daughter was attacked?” you could hear the bit of curiosity in her voice but mostly judgement.

Anika was distracted playing with her phone, not even looking up as she said, “That’s because they don’t know.” She let out a small laugh until she realized what she said. She slowly put down her phone and looked at you to see you already glaring at her. You reached over whacking her on the arm.

“They don’t know?” Tara whipped her head towards you with an accusatory glare.

You cleared your throat, opening and closing your mouth a few times as you tried to come up with an excuse. “I didn’t want her to worry,” you finally said.

“How did you keep this from your mom? Why did she think the security alarm was triggered so late?” Tara was gesturing wildly, shaking the table with each movement.

“I told her you fell out of the tree,” you said quietly, refusing to meet Tara’s gaze. “Again.”

Tara gasped. “And she believed you?” you glanced at her, seeing her hold a hand to her heart.

“I mean…” you shrugged. “Can you blame her?”

“It happened once!”

“Twice!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Chad said, waving his arms. “You fell out of a tree?” he asked Tara, trying to contain his laughter.

“I miss judged the distance from the branch to her window,” is all Tara said.

“And that’s how she met my mom,” you added.

Everyone broke out into a laugh after that. “Whatever,” Tara grumbled. “She loves me now.”

You shook your head laughing at her. You reached down, grabbing her hand and bringing it towards your mouth to give her fingers a quick kiss. The gesture made Tara’s cheeks turn red and though she tried to duck her head out of sight from everyone you could see the small smile on her face.

Everyone talked for a bit longer, getting to know each other a bit more. You heard stories about Tara growing up in Woodsboro and what she was like. You heard all about Chad’s football career and how he got the scholarship he did. Sam didn’t say much, she added small bits here and there when the topic had to do with Tara’s childhood but otherwise sat there silently, smiling, and laughing along with everyone else. Eventually it got late though, and the twins and Anika made their way home, denying Sam’s offer to spend the night as well.

“We’ll see you tomorrow for the record store,” Anika said, pulling you into a much more gentle hug than the one she had greeted you with.

“And we we’ll be by for breakfast before,” Chad added, looking at Sam with puppy dog eyes.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said but nodded.

After the others left Tara led you to her room and began getting ready for bed. She was already under the covers as you slipped in right beside her. Tara took the extra pillows on her bed and helped place them so you could lay partially sitting up. Tara had an arm draped around your waist, snuggling as close to you as she could get, she was about to close her eyes when the door to her room creaked open. Tara propped herself up and you turned to see Sam standing in the doorway.

“Keep the door open,” Sam said. She narrowed her eyes, giving Tara a knowing look before walking off towards her room.

“She’s still injured Sam!” Tara said before dropping her head back down onto the mattress, grumbling about how Sam never lets her get away with anything as she snuggled back into your side.

You just smiled, shaking your head at seeing the sisters interact in person. You shifted, wiggling your body down until you were laying as much as you could without causing your ribs to much pain. The bruising was mostly gone but it still hurt to lay on your stomach or either side.

It felt like you had just closed your eyes before they snapped wide open. Your breathing heavy, you could feel your heart racing as you looked around the unfamiliar room until you felt something graze against your leg. You looked down, instantly relaxing at seeing Tara still sound asleep at your side. You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths, you were at Tara’s apartment, you had spent the night, you were safe.

You rubbed your eyes realizing you couldn’t just go back to sleep. You quietly slipped out of the bed, gently lifting Tara’s arm off of you. You waited a second, watching to make sure Tara didn’t wake up before tiptoeing out of her room and making your way into the family room. You glanced around at the dark apartment, catching sight of a clock, it was three in the morning. You sighed before easing yourself down on the couch.

You were sitting there quietly in the dark staring at the empty wall before you when there was a small click and a light flicked on. You flinched, nearly jumping to your feet as you turned your whole body towards the sound.

“Sorry,” Sam whispered, stepping further into the family room.

“Sorry,” you croaked out, starting to stand up. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re fine,” Sam said softly, raising her hand for you to sit back down. You slowly lowered yourself back down as Sam made her way over, sitting in the chair across from the couch. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “It’s just hard to get comfortable sometimes. Though the pain is mostly gone it’s still there a bit,” you said when you had calmed down enough. “The pain meds they gave me are meant to help me sleep but they kind of do the opposite,” you chuckled but it quickly fell flat.

The two of you sat there in silence for a moment. You stared down at your feet while Sam kept her eyes on you. The only light illuminating the room was the small one Sam flicked on when she entered.

“Nightmares?” Sam asked softly.

You nodded, refusing to lift your head and look at her. “I can usually sleep through the night when Tara’s there,” you whispered. “Most of the time at least.”

“Hey,” Sam said softly, making you finally look up at her, seeing her eyes held the same softness. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You went through something terrible. We’ve all been through it. We definitely get it.” You nodded. “Have you talked to Tara about this at all?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to burden her; she’s got enough to worry about.”

“She loves you. It wouldn’t be a burden to her.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Is it a burden to you when she talks about her problems? Or when she wakes up from a nightmare?”

“Of course not.” Sam raised her eyebrows but didn’t lose her softness. You let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah okay.”

“Talk to her,” she said before standing up. “When you’re ready to of course. You should also call your mom.”

You let out a small chuckle, rolling your eyes but nodded none the less.

“And…” she glanced around the room like she wasn’t used to this type of conversation. “I’m here to if you want to talk. If you’re comfortable of course.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “You’re a great sister, Tara’s lucky to have you.”

Sam cleared her throat, trying to hide her blush, she was just like Tara in that way. “You should try and get some sleep, who knows where Anika will try and drag us after the record store.”

You nodded, pushing yourself back to your feet. You definitely knew how Anika got when she was out shopping and with everyone going you had no idea how long the trip to the record store would actually be. There were times you went out with Anika with the intent to go to one store and you ended up on the other side of the city hours later.

Sam flicked off the light and the two of you made your way back to bed. Sam gave you a small nod before she entered her room, gently closing the door behind her. You pushed Tara’s door open, still seeing her sound asleep. You pushed the door closed, leaving it a few inches open like Sam had requested before quietly slipping back under the covers.

You tried to be as subtle as possible to not disturb Tara. As soon as you were situated again, Tara curled into your side, wrapping her arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around her as best as you could, pulling her closer into your side before closing your eyes and quickly drifting back off to sleep.

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