#do you ever have a scene and it was so good you’re still thinking about it the next day

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 6

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: SMUT!!! angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @undercuver @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo

“aww you and your little girlfriend got nicknames already?”

“will you ever just shut the fuck up??”

Ellie scoffed, mocking the way Abby said the sweet nickname through the speaker of your phone as you ended the call to open up the door, revealing Abby in all her glory, golden locks falling over her broad shoulders, still a little damp from the shower she took right after practice. She was wearing casual grey sweats and an obnoxious black prada tank top the shiny silver triangle on her chest caught your eye instantly, it fit her in all the right places, hugging her toned physique like a glove..fuck you’re drooling… you didn’t catch her Ocean eyes checking you out as well..shamelessly ignoring Ellie right beside you, taking in your deliciously smooth legs in those cute little shorts, you left little to no imagination in the victoria’s secret shirt you only buttoned right in the middle..you knew what you were doing..you had to

“missed me, sweetheart? hope Williams over there didn’t harass you too much”

she enjoyed the way Ellie’s face lit up in anger,blood rushed into her cheeks feeling threatened by Abby, she wanted to punch that disgusting grin out of her stupid face as she stepped into your apartment as if she owned it and pressed her lips on yours, giving you a sweet kiss, touching your waist where she did just a few minutes prior..still mad at herself for not catching you in your weakest moment..she thinks she might throw up if she has to see this any longer..the loss love of her life making out with her sworn enemy right in front of her definitely wasn’t on her 2024 bingo list.. maybe that was her karma for treating you like a worthless piece of garbage..

“i’ll kick her out just give me a second-“

you broke away from Abby’s kiss, not wanting to go any further before Ellie left entirely..but Abby’s eyes darkened..she seemed to have something else in mind…

“wanna show her who fucks you better?”

your eyes sparkled as you nodded eagerly

“fuck yes”

Ellie’s eyes widened as you walked up to her after whispering with Abby, she didn’t really give a fuck about what you were talking about until you grabbed her hands and forcefully dragged her into your once shared bedroom, pushing her into an armchair right in front of your bed without any time to react.

“be a good girl and stay put yeah? don’t fucking move..just keep your eyes on me”

you whispered in her ear as you unbuttoned your shirt in front of her, discarding all your clothes on the ground of your bedroom floor painfully slow until you were completely bare..Abby was doing the same in the background..goosebumps spread all over her body as the scene unfolded in front of her. Abby’s lips found yours again, she pushed you into the mattress positioning herself between your legs her rough hands traveled to your dripping pussy, she felt your clit pulsating on her fingertips

“fuck baby..you’re so wet for me wanna fuck you so bad”

she dipped two fingers inside your gaping hole..you hissed at the stretch of her thick fingers but you didn’t care for the pain you needed more..little whines escaped your lips as she began to hit your sweet spot with every move your eyes rolled behind your skull as you felt the familiar sensation of your orgasm building up only to be let down by her pulling her fingers out without a warning

“f-fuck you abby!”

slap!

you gasped as her palm collided with your cheek, the sting lingered on the reddened flesh of your pretty face..tears dared to spill out of the corners of your glossy eyes as she grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open with her thumb spitting on your tongue.

“don’t get bratty on me now,doll”

you swore you could’ve released an orgasm right there and then as you swallowed her hot saliva heavy mascara stained tears ran down your cheeks..Abby’s hand still firm on your jaw. Fuck you looked so fucked out already Ellie thought hypnotized by the way you whined and begged for Abby fuck she wished it was her you were screaming for instead..jealousy and anger built up inside her chest.

“m sorry Abby please fuck me please! need your cock so bad-!”

Abby couldn’t wait any longer, she forced your face down the fluffy sheets and lifted your ass up, mufflig your pathetic sounds,bending you the way she pleased..manhandling you like a rag doll. She took her time with strapping up, making you grow more impatient you felt like you were going to die if she didn’t fuck you now. You felt her heavy tip tease between your ass..sliding it up and down switching between your asshole and pussy lips as you were about to beg her to fuck you already she entered your sweet cunt..slamming her entire length inside cursing to herself as you arched your back and moved your hips to match her rhythm.

“ohmygod!! yesyesyes-! just like that don’t stop-“

you screamed even louder when she grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look in Ellie’s direction as she fucked your brains out from behind..high on the delicious stretch of her thick length kissing your g spot over and over again…you chanted Abby’s name like it was the only thing you knew as you locked eyes with Ellie as if you were talking to her..”abby!- fuck you’re so good baby ‘m close-“you noticed her fighting with herself she wanted to hate this she really did but she couldn’t help it fuck she loved the way you sound..your pornographic moans were music to her ears, the way your ass bounced every time you met abby’s hips with obnoxiously loud and wet slapping noises had her mind spinning god you were such a desperate slut getting off on showing Ellie what she’s missing..and it turned her on so bad

“be a good slut and tell Ellie who’s better yeah? keep your eyes on her as you cum”

Abby’s demanding tone went right into your pussy, getting wetter every second, creaming on abby’s cock..fuck you were dripping on your sheets.

“yes-! only you can fuck me like this abby! best i’ve ever had oh-!”

your breath hitched as the sweet wave of release hit you, vision blurry but your eyes always trained on Ellie’s as you came down from the high of your orgasm. You whined as Abby pulled out slowly, missing being full of her already. She caressed your cheek and gave you a sweet kiss “sorry for being so rough,baby i’ll make it up to you” you wondered how she can fuck your brains out and then be the softest person ever like nothing happened. “don’t worry abs..loved it so much” you smiled as you captured her pretty lips again god you couldn’t get enough of her..

The way you acted like Ellie wasn’t still there was so infuriating, she wanted to make a scene and scream at you but abby would absolutely beat her to death if she did so she bit her tongue..she silently got up from her comfortable position on your arm chair and got ready to leave..cringing at the wetness between her legs. what the fuck did just happen? She thought as she threw on one of Joel’s old jackets, secretly hoping that you’d hit her up to join you some time..

“Ellie wait”

you called out for her as she was about to go through your door..have you changed your mind already? Yeah you probably did she thought.. she didn’t blame you though..you just can’t resist her can you?

“take your shit before you leave bye!!”

you shoved the cardboard box into her chest and pushed her out of the doorframe closing it in her face. damn…she couldn’t help but smile at the way you treated her..she liked you getting revenge on her, she liked that you were mean to her..it made her want you even more, no she needed you so fucking bad..you were the only thing running through her head right now..she didn’t even notice how her girlfriend had called her various times..texting her that she will be going to sleep because she felt sick..asking if she could stop by some pharmacy to get medicine to treat her nausea..but Ellie really didn’t give a fuck right now..she’ll take care of it tomorrow..now she needed to take care of something else..she got comfortable on Dina’s couch and rubbed herself on the thought of you..

fuck she cursed to herself..only you could make her cum like that

💫

Abby helped you change your bedsheets after several rounds..you needed to return the favor that’s the least you could do!..images of her pussy grinding on yours never leaving your mind..she made you feel so good how have you ever lived without her?

“what’s on your mind, babe?”

Abby asked, sneaking her arms around your waist hugging you from behind as she left small kisses on your neck. You wished you could stay like this forever..but you needed to get this out of your chest so you turned around, facing her now.

“I like you Abby..I love fucking with you but i want you to take me on dates. I want something real with you..i want everything of you..even though sex alone is really fucking good”

you joked at the end, brushing off the sudden nervousness that washed over you..Abby always had this effect on you she made you feel shy as if you were a school girl talking to her crush for the first time god you’re embarrassing get it together. Abby’s eyes softened as she grabbed your hands..they were so small compared to hers.. she kissed your wrists and took in the sweet scent of your perfume, pulling you into a warm embrace, leaving a tooth rotting sugary kiss on your forehead.

“you’re so precious,angel..i’ll give you all of me yeah? i promise to treat you like the princess you are..wanna be yours whenever you’re ready”

yeah..you could definitely get used to this…

🎀

to be continued!

[izzyy-stuff]

hi!! this is for the 300 bash 💗 congrats!! it’s a huge milestone and i can’t wait to read more of ur work!!

could you write about yeonjun and the reader being castmates in an upcoming drama? they grow close because they spend so much time together, maybe they practice a kiss scene in the dressing room (even though no one asked them to) and it goes a little off-script…

when it’s time to promote it, they fake date to get the drama trending and that’s when they realise they really like each other!!!

hehehe idk ive been thinking about this a bunch and it’s driving me crazy

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍

Actor!Yeonjun x fem!reader

in which Choi Yeonjun really messes with your head when he suggest you fake a relationship with him to promote your upcoming drama

wc 2k

warnings kissing, lot's of flirting

↪ izzy speaks... okay I loved this idea. I do feel like some of the parts are a bit rushed since I had to fit it in my word limit, but I think it's still good :3 this is NOT proofread by the way

event post | event masterlist

“And…cut!” You hear the director’s voice and breathe out, your lips slightly shaking. It feels like you’ve breathed for the first time in forever, but at the same time, you still feel like you can’t breathe. It’s his fault. Everything is his fault. 

“Hey, are you feeling–” your co-star – Choi Yeonjun starts, but before he can finish his sentence, you’re backing off from him, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. 

You run away as fast as possible, locking yourself in your dressing room before anyone can stop you. You slide on the closed door, pulling your knees to your head and closing your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. Stupid Yeonjun. Stupid show. Stupid, stupid, stupid– “Stupid kiss,” you mumble, your cheeks red. 

How did all of this even happen, you wonder? It’s simple. It all started when Choi Yeonjun, the prettiest guy you’ve ever met, decided to charm you and do everything in his power to make you question your feelings for him. 

♡⸝⸝ 

A few days ago

“The trailer for part one has been released.” You look up from the script in your hands, locking eyes with your co-star who had brought the news to you. “Really? We have to watch it together!” You beam, automatically getting a smile on his face. He nods, sliding into the chair next to you as he takes out his phone. “I saw a bit already. You’re gorgeous in it.” Blush creeps up your face, and you can’t look in his direction. “What? Don’t you believe me?” He whispers, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face as he leans in closer. 

“Turn on the trailer,” you whisper, sounding more desperate than you would want to. Yeonjun chuckles, “Alright, sweetheart,” leaving his lips as he straightens his back again. 

You do your best to focus on the video playing on Yeonjun’s phone, but the boy beside you makes it much harder. His black mullet fits him perfectly, and you might as well admit he is the most handsome guy you have worked with. You can’t keep your eyes off him, barely paying attention to the trailer. He would have to be blind not to notice you. 

“See? You were stunning,” he grins, turning his phone off again. You snap out of your thoughts, averting your gaze. You feel his eyes on you, swallowing a lump in your throat before you look at him again. “Can we rehearse a bit?” He asks suddenly, and you have to blink to assure yourself you aren’t just hallucinating. “Which..scene?” you ask confusedly. He smirks, pulling your chair from the table and turning it so you would face him. 

“I had a great time today,” Yeonjun recites one of his scenes. You’re too caught up in the moment to mentally go over all the scenes and figure out how your line goes, so you stay still in your place, waiting for what’s to come. He reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your fingers softly. 

“Yeonjun,” his name falls from your lips in an instant, making the scene much more genuine than it should be. His eyes meet yours, and he leans closer to you. He whispers your name right next to your ear, sending shivers all over your body. “And then they kiss,” he continues in the script. “Right,” you mumble, but before you can say anything else, one of his hands is on your waist while the other holds your face, pulling you in for a kiss. 

Your eyes widen, your body freezing. You’re not sure what to do. A part of you wants to reciprocate the kiss, kiss him until you won’t be able to breathe anymore, but you know you shouldn’t. Still, your lips move on their own. You give in. As you close your eyes, you feel even closer to him. Just for a little bit, you tell yourself. 

Yeonjun is the first to pull away, a small smile that almost passes unnoticed by you on his lips. “And cut,” he mumbles, crushing every scenario your mind created in the short moment. “Cut,” you repeat after him, refusing to look him in the eyes. 

♡⸝⸝ 

You’ve been trying to avoid him since. You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. Every time you locked eyes with him, you could only think about the kiss. You saw him right in front of you. Every movement of his stayed in your mind, and you couldn’t seem to get it out. He was like a virus. 

“I’m coming in!” You hear your co-start behind the door, panicking immediately. You think of locking the door, but before you can get up from the floor and do so, you stumble as he opens the door and hits you. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He worries, running to you as if you were on the verge of dying. 

“I’m alright, it’s fine,” you assure him. “The door barely touched me.” Yeonjun sighs, shaking his head at you. You’re not sure why. “That’s good,” he slightly nods. “I wanted to check up on you. You’ve been…” he looks around as if to make sure you were the only ones in there. “Acting strange lately. Ever since the ki–” he starts, but you interrupt him before he can finish his sentence, not wanting to get reminded. “Strange? No, I haven’t been strange at all! Maybe I’m a bit worried about the rest of the filming, that’s all.” 

“Are you sure?” The anxiety in his voice breaks your heart. It destroys you because whenever he looks at you like this, so genuinely, he gives you hope. “Will you be okay during today’s interview?” Your eyes widen. Fuck. You forgot about the interview. 

“Uhm, yeah, definitely,” you nod. “Okay,” he nods too. “The director and I had talked about our promotion strategy, so I need you in the right mind.” You question him with your eyes, a wave of worry washing over you when you see him smirk. “We are going to fool the public eye,” he explains. “And pretend that we are dating. It will attract more viewers. They’ll want to know what our relationship is like behind the cameras.” 

You swear you must have hit your head when you ran here. There was no way. Absolutely not– how could you? You couldn’t play his girlfriend even if you wanted to– “I see. Okay,” you agree. Great. Just how stupid are you? “That makes sense, I guess.” 

“Okay,” he smiles at you, and for a second, you don’t regret your decision at all. “Great,” he nods. He stays still for a second afterward, and it’d be obvious to anyone that he wants to say something. He sighs, speaking his mind. “Are you sure we’re okay?” 

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, we are.” And you mean it. You’re as okay as you can be at the moment. If it stays that way once you start pretending you’re his girlfriend is a different thing. 

♡⸝⸝ 

“We actually worked on…a surprise,” Yeonjun admits, teasing one of his upcoming projects as he answers a question for the WIRED interview about how he and Soobin, one of his close friends, met. “But you will have to wait for that.” You smile, watching him talk. 

You remember the look on his face when he told you about the song they were making a few weeks ago, unable to hold back your smile. You don’t even notice him revealing another question on the board. Instead, you snap out of your thoughts when you hear him answering. 

“Ideal type…” his eyes drift to your figure, and he thinks for a second before looking back at the camera again, smirking. “I’d say it’s someone who gets me. Someone smart, who could be there for me and I could admire. Someone who gets as excited for me as if my achievement was theirs,” he smiles, your cheeks flushing red when you notice his eyes on you. “Safe answer,” you joke, trying to brush the tickling feeling in your stomach off as you avert your gaze. “Then maybe,” he starts, leaning closer. “I should use the not-so-safe answer and remind everyone what your name is.” 

You freeze, swallowing a lump in your throat. Then you remember. He doesn’t mean any of the things he says. He doesn’t like you, and you definitely aren’t his type. You bite your bottom lip, remembering his idea of this fake relationship. You knew this was coming. You didn’t expect it this soon, though. 

“Oh, come on,” you gently push him back, rolling your eyes playfully. It pains you how unreal you sound, and you’re sure anyone with eyes will see through you. Still, you don’t back down. “You’re here to promote our drama, not flirt with me,” you mumble with a smile. Yeonjun chuckles, spreading his legs apart and resting his back against the chair. “Shit,” you mumble quietly, hoping the microphone doesn’t catch your words. He is hot. Too hot. 

“I can do both, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he teases, glancing at the cameraman before his eyes land on your lips, carefully watching you. You definitely won’t be able to air this. You hesitate, rethinking if it’s worth it. They won’t air your kiss. They’ll definitely cut it out, so why bother pretending to that extent? Except maybe you aren’t pretending. You lean closer to him, catching him off guard when you connect your lips. You hear the direct cough, reminding you you’re not alone, but you don’t care. And it looks like Yeonjun doesn’t care either as he pulls you closer. 

There it is again. The weird feeling in your stomach that makes your heart skip a beat. It feels almost dangerous. The speed at which your heart is beating and the way you’re getting addicted to his lips. 

“Okay, cut the cameras!” The director interrupts you, making you giggle as you pull away from your co-star. “Keep rolling, we’ve got it,” Yeonjun laughs, throwing the board he was previously holding on the ground behind him. You laugh at him, waiting for the staff members to bring you a new board with more questions. 

The interview flows after that. Even though Yeonjun keeps flirting any chance he gets, you stop minding and get used to it. You’d dare to say you even enjoy it now. 

“That went well, don’t you think?” Yeonjun asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you leave the set. You nod, briefly glancing at him. “I’m sure your plan to make us blow up worked,” you agree. “Yeah, I’m sure it did,” he nods, stopping. You question his movements, raising an eyebrow. “But you know I’m not doing all this just to make the drama do well, right?” 

And then your heart stops completely. “What?” 

“With you, I don’t have to pretend anything,” he mumbles, taking a step closer to you. He holds your hand in his, carefully watching you. “I never had to.” You blink a few times, assuring yourself this isn’t some weird dream of yours before you open your mouth to answer. No words leave your mouth, though. You don’t know what to say. Instead, you close the gap between you, pressing your lips on his once again. “Good, I’m not sure how long I could keep pretending this is fake,” you mumble against his lips, and he wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you as close as possible. 

“Let’s not pretend then. Let’s make us real,” he says confidently, not letting go of you. “I want to be with you for real.”

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆ Want to get notified? Join taglist here !

[msschemmenti]

girl next door 🏠-7

a/n: at this point— i’m just doing shit 😭

Summer turned to fall rather quickly and things had settled pretty nicely for the ladies. The women had only been sleeping together for about a month but they’d all fallen into this new dynamic pretty easily. Everyone was learning new things about themselves and each other and it was making for a very interesting friendship.

Like now, Y/n and JJ were sprawled around her living room working quietly. JJ, reading through case consults, and Y/n working through a few papers. Emily had been tagged into a last-minute interrogation at some prison and jj didn’t particularly fancy spending her evening alone, so she’d made her way over to Y/n’s door as soon as she put the car in park. Having spent her day cleaning and sending out project feedback, Y/n welcomed the blonde in with a smile and instructions to get comfortable while she grabbed them snacks until dinner time.

They worked in relative silence for a bit until JJ seemed finally cracked. Her eyes had strayed from the crime scene photos far too many times for her to provide an actual consult. So when she caught sight of Y/n returning to the living room in one of her signature lounge sets, JJ couldn’t stop herself from pulling the young professor into her lap. Y/n fell easily with a laugh, straddling JJ with raised eyebrows.

“I thought we were working?” Y/n asked teasingly.

“I can’t focus when you’re walking around looking this good.” JJ’s mouth instantly started working the column of Y/n’s neck and by now she was starting to pick up on just how to work the younger woman’s body to get the reaction she wanted. JJ was efficient and had Y/n humming softly and stretching her neck to give her more room to work.

“You know, I’m starting to realize how insatiable your libido is.” Y/n chuckled as she felt JJ’s hands crawl up her shirt to rest in one of her favorite places.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” JJ snickered. “And you’re not exactly helping it. You’ve been walking around in practically nothing for the last hour and a half. I think I deserve some praise for holding out as long as I did.” JJ chided with a nip to the younger woman’s neck.

Before Y/n could even reply, her phone started ringing on the coffee table. She pulled away from JJ, much to the older woman’s dismay, and reached for her phone to see who was calling. JJ, hardly one to be deterred turned her attention to the parts of the younger woman’s body that were still in her reach. Y/n eyed her phone curiously but answered.

“Tina?” Y/n asked as she held the phone to her ear.

“Hi, is now a bad time?” The woman spoke nervously. Y/n’s eyes met JJ’s mischievous eyes and she pulled her hands from under her shirt to rest on her hips. With a pout, the older woman lowered her hands fractionally to cup her behind instead.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but didn’t move them. “No, now's fine. What’s up?”

“Well, I’m in DC— for a show and I wanted to or was hoping to see you. Only if you want, of course. Last time we talked, you said to reach out if I was ever in town. And I’m here. So I’m reaching out.” Tina rambled nervously.

“Well of course I wanna see you. No need to work yourself up honey,” Y/n spoke softly into the phone. The term of endearment piques JJ’s interest. She knew her neighbor rained pet names when she addressed people, she claimed it was part of her Southern charm. But in the months they’d known each other she’d never heard the name Tina before.

“I’m sorry, I just- you know how I get.” Tina sighed over the phone with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“I do. How long are you here for? I’m teaching during most days but we could definitely do dinner.” Y/n asked flipping her hair out of her face a bit, completely missing the way JJ studied her.

“I’m here until Monday, then we’re heading to Chicago. The show will be Friday through Sunday.”

“Okay, it’s Wednesday now— can you squeeze me in tomorrow night? I’ll stay in town after my classes and then we can meet. And if you’re nice, I’ll come see your show.” Y/n teased softly down the line, easily falling into the banter of their past.

JJ was so close enough to the younger woman, that she could practically hear the woman on the other line laugh and agree. She watched as Y/n smiled giddily and confirmed plans for the following day and a familiar yet confusing fire began to burn in her stomach. Familiar, yes. She’d been known to have a bit of a jealous streak. Confusing, also yes. Because she’d only ever really felt that way with Emily. Never for any other partner. And certainly not for any of the women they’d taken to their bed, casually. As the thought passed her mind, she nodded in realization. Oh, this is definitely new.

When Emily and JJ finally stopped fighting their desires and fell into the whole, neighbors-with-benefits sort of arrangement there was bound to be some confusion considering they had never really brought another woman into their relationship consistently. It had always been a one-night-stand-see-you-never sort of deal. Often occurring after a particularly rough case over drinks in a dimly lit bar on the other side of town. They usually never even brought the women to their house. For safety reasons primarily but also because they knew what kind of message that sent to women and they weren’t interested in that sort of thing. Then Y/n moved in and she was just so attractive and so close. They’d convinced themselves that after one time they’d be able to dispel any of those feelings of attraction. That’s how it had worked any other time they took someone to bed. But they were sorely mistaken. Not only had they progressed to inviting Y/n into their personal bed, it was as if their experiences with her were bleeding into their personal intimacy. No matter how many times they washed their sheets they stilled smelled of her release. Any time they rolled into bed to sleep or do a little more than sleep, their minds wandered to their unbelievably attractive neighbor down the street. The neighbor they had writhing between them for hours, gripping their silken sheets, pleading for sweet release. It worked wonders for their already active sex life but it always left them feigning for another night with her. So they stopped counting. And everyone seemed happier that way. The street’s orgasm count was up and who would complain about that?

At this point they’d slept together maybe, 7 times over the last month. All of which had been initiated by Emily or JJ. It almost always happened like this. After defiling Y/n’s couch for the second time they exchanged numbers— everyone anticipating the routine forming. They’d decide before they left work who’d actually reach out. If it was early enough, the younger woman would offer whatever she had for dinner to them and after they’d all eaten together the older women would lead the younger woman to their bedroom. And once the deed was done, Y/n was heading back to her house leaving both women leftovers of their meal. Very casual, very neighborly, very not jealousy-inducing (so far). So when JJ felt that familiar burning in her gut, she knew something else was going on.

“Listen, let me know what your schedules looking like tomorrow and i’ll find us somewhere for dinner. Are you still off Chinese? Figured. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/n spoke down the phone before ending the call and turning her attention back to the blonde underneath her. “Sorry bout that.”

JJ nodded and eyed the younger woman curiously, hands still settle on her ass, “Friend in town?”

Y/n nodded, tossing her phone to the other end of the couch, “Yeah, I think I may have mentioned my closest friend in location was in New York when we first met. Well, her shows traveling and we’re gonna get together.”

JJ aimed for casually curious, nothing more than a friend asking about another friend, “That’s nice, were you close before you moved here?”

“Oh yeah, we lived together for a year before she moved up to New York last spring for a role,” Y/n answered easily.

“Roommates? Oh, that’s nice that you kept in touch.” JJ said feeling the relief inching into her body at the simple answer.

“Yeah, roommates. We really leaned into that U-haul lesbian stereotype. Although, i think six months is better than some of couples i’ve known.” Y/n counted absentmindedly.

“Oh! She’s your ex? Like the year and a half one?” JJ asked, feeling the jealousy flair intensely.

“Uh huh, gosh I forget how loose lipped I get when I drink.” Y/n smiled, kissing JJ’s lips chastely and rising from her lap. “I’m going to start dinner, are y’all eating with me tonight?”

JJ answered affirmatively and watched as the younger woman started working around her kitchen to prepare for dinner. She’d need to swallow whatever she was feeling—cause it’s casual.

-

“God, DC looks good on you.” Tina smiled fondly from across the dinner table. Y/n had picked a restaurant within walking distance to where Tina was staying and she was definitely taking advantage of that fact as she nursed her fourth drink.

“Oh stop that! I look exactly the same as I did when I dropped you at the airport last May. If we’re talking who looks what— the stage is agreeing with my baby. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this light and free.”

“That might be the liquor talking.” Tina grinned.

“Uh huh, you always did have a low tolerance. My lil baby.” Y/n teased, reaching across the table to pinch at the older woman’s cheek affectionately. “Tell me, who’re you bedding now? Some young ingenue in the chorus line?”

“Ha! No no. I’m not currently involved with anyone. Haven’t had much time with the show traveling— and you know the new york dating scene is not my speed.”

“Awe come on, the girls not seeing how lovable your little shy, nervous thing is? We both know how well that worked on me.”

“Yeah— I fear they’re not like you.” Tina shrugged, downing the rest of her drink. She waved the waitress down for another and studied her ex closely. “Now you my dear, are definitely getting laid. Tell me about that.”

Y/n blushed under her gaze and rolled her eyes, “Oh you know, nothing serious. My married neighbors have just been screwin’ my brains out for the last month.”

“Oh ho ho— now that’s one way to do it. Glad one of us is getting laid.” Tina cheers, clinking their glasses together. “What does ‘nothing serious’ mean though?”

“It’s casual. They’ve got pretty high pressure jobs and you know how healing an orgasm can be. My dating experience here has been pretty rough and you know what they say— kill two birds with one stone and such.”

“well good for you, babe. Glad to see you’re making DC home.”

It wasn’t long after that the women stumbled out of the restaurant giggling sweetly. “Oh, you’re drunker than Cooter Brown. Come on I’ll walk back to your hotel, make sure you can actually go on this weekend.”

“Oh no, then who will walk you back? I don’t want you out here alone, how can I protect you?” Tina slurred, leaning into Y/n’s arm.

“Sweetness, you couldn’t protect a fly right now. I’ll be fine.”

“No— just stay the night. I’ve got two beds and you’ve had almost as much as me.”

“Alright, alright. Sleepover it is. Start movin’ though— my feet are killing me.”

-

“What is your deal? You’ve been glued to that window or your phone all evening.” Emily asked curiously looking over JJ’s shoulder for a sign of what she was watching.

“Nothing…” JJ shrugged tearing her gaze from her neighbor’s empty driveway.

“Yeah right, nothing my ass. Try that again.” Emily scoffed, lifting JJ’s feet onto her lap.

“It really is nothing, i was just wondering if Y/n was back for the night.”

“She’s not home yet? That’s weird, most nights she’s in bed by 9 at the latest. Didn’t she say she was having dinner with her friend tonight?” Emily mused curiously watching JJ’s features closely. JJ hummed noncommittally turning distractedly as a pair of headlights bathed the dark street. Emily eyebrows lowered together in confusion, “Jen, come on. What do you know— should we be concerned about this friend of hers?”

At the genuine concern in Emily’s voice JJ sighed and slumped against the couch sheepishly. “No, no. I’m being crazy and I have no clue why. Her ex is in town and I hadn’t anticipated her being gone all night.”

“Oh.” Emily replied (teetering between nonchalance and intrigued). “Her ex as in the one she dated for a year and a half? That’s nice of her to visit.”

“Yeah, super nice.”

“You know if i didn’t know any better— I’d say this attitude of yours is because you’re jealous…” Emily prodded, poking at the sole of JJ foot.

“What? No. I was just thinking— we never really talked about the logistics of our arrangement. And safety wise I think it might be a good idea to figure out.”

Emily peeked through the curtain herself, “Right, right. You think she’s sleeping with her?” Emily asked suddenly struggling to maintain her nonchalance.

“Well they sounded pretty chummy when she called. And she’s not home yet. And it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. She’s a free agent.”

“That she is. Well I’m sure she’s having a good time.” Emily threw over her shoulder flippantly, eyes still trained on the street. “But you’re right, maybe we should think safety logistics. And such.”

[soni-dragon]

Eye of the Pheonix is actually one of the best merlin episodes because:

merlin and Gwen besties shenanigans; “what’s he actually thinking about” “you”

cold open to the most tender merthur scene

Merlin sleeping outside all knight for arthur

Hiccuping scene and arthur getting so annoyed

“But the perilous lands are… perilous”

“The task is meant to be completed alone and unaided” the start of the best continuing joke of all time

Putting the rest under a cut cause it’s long

Little morgwen moment in the market i love (one of the last we get….)

Cute arthur and gwen scene! Hehe

This is just the shipping episode of all time everyone wins

“You’ll need help” and the first thing merlin does is go find gwaine

smiles “hello, gwaine” “ah, merlin :)”

Immediately puts an arm around merlin

Throws merlin off a roof. this is what merwaine is all about :)

Gwaine is still Gwaine and not whatever the writers did to him after becoming a knight

Bridge guy (Grettir) is great and Arthur’s “no I’m prince arthur of camelot” i love you you’re so dense sometimes

“You need strength and magic” and then gwaine and merlin come along and NO ONE seems to think two seconds more about the implications

“ive been to almost every tavern” “so have i” you’re telling me merlin spent all that time looking for specifically gwaine to help him when he knows arthur is in danger

ANOTHER MORGWEN SCENE (ik morgana just wants her to leave) but we weren’t completely robbed

Arthur not realizing that he feels like shit and thinking hmm that’s weird, this is THE dense, damsel in distress arthur episode

Gwaine is two feet away are you really telling me he didn’t hear bridge guy call merlin Magic

“Strength has arrived the trio is complete” immeidate sword draw

But also the establishment of them as a trio i really love and they never did anything else with it

Gwaine with the flowers :))

THE ENTIREY OF THE FIRE SCENE

*THE* MERWAINE SCENE EVER

“a pheasant” gwaine please

“Why do you want to do this?” cause he’s in love with you merlin

“Same reason as you” (hesitates) (eye contact) “help a friend”

“arthurs lucky to have us”

…

“not arthur” SCREAMING

we’re back to the fond looks

gwaines tiny nod of assurance when merlin looks at him like ??! after he says not arthur

“youre the only friend i have” and i couldnt bear to lose you

Gwen finding out morgana has magic

“she’s changed” break my heart why don’t you (i dont want you to change) BRING HER BACKKK this is making me miss the arc morgana could have had so badly

They caught up to arthur SO FAST goes to show how arthurs going through it

Not wyvern they have four legs actually (tho their designs are cool)

This would have been such a good episode for gwaine to learn merlin is a dragonlord & has magic

Arthur conveniently is knocked out (as always) when merlin does cool magic stuff to save him

When merlin orders them to go and they bow their heads and walk away they look like kicked puppies

The famous arthur waking up to merlins silly little smile and being 100% not appreciative

whatthehellareYOUdoinghere? why can’t you ever just say thanks? augh THANKS!whatforcompLeTlYrUiNiNgThEqUeSt?!

i am supposed to be doing this ALONEEEE

“Are gwen and morgana here too? we going to have a surprise party?” i love you sassy arthur and yes you absolutely should have a surprise party

Do you want us to help you or do you want to do this ~aloneeee~

MERLIN!

The little smile and nod like yeah they got him

“this is a quest merlin not a treasure hunt” well it is sort of- “MERLIN.”

How is that one stone completely sound proof

The cockroaches are icky but y’all have gloves its not that bad you couldn’t even feel them

Set up with the water of avalon and something that actually follows into later episodes

“Merlin.” + arthur doesn’t want to show he actually cares about him vs. gwaine pulling him into a hug

“look what i found” merlin and gwaine shared looks of no you didn’t

The trios conversation at the end i love their dynamics + merlins pause and genuine thanks

Eoin macken looking pretty <33 (he always does)

Merlins little overview of the quest hes so excited awww

Immediate shift to sassy merlin the Duality

I wish Gwen knowing about morgana’s magic would have been explored more i want to see her join gaius and merlin in plotting and going on little quests

Anyways yeah to conclude i miss Gwaine sm :(

[xderrickmountx]

.

[springtyme]

𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 ♡ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈

Simon catching baby fever, but you’re only roommates...

141 masterlist (there'll be a part two of this)

Before you, the only time Simon really left his flat when he was home on leave was to go to the gym or to go get groceries. 

He was content with this routine, he found comfort in the familiarity of it, and enjoyed the peace and quiet of his own space. Or at least that is what he told himself. This way of life had been sufficient for him for a long time, but as time went on he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. 

That is when Simon found himself considering the idea of getting a flatmate. He thought about it for a while, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. On one hand, he enjoyed his independence and privacy. On the other hand, having someone else around the flat could be a good thing, and he does have an extra bedroom in the flat that’s just collecting dust. Maybe it would be a good idea… Maybe.

After much contemplation, Simon finally decided to take the plunge and start looking. He posted an ad online, and waited for responses to come in. To his surprise, he received a good handful, he had actually not anticipated that that many, if any, would be interested in sharing his space. It is a little overwhelming, and as he goes through the applications he starts to doubt whether he had made the right decision. 

What if he didn’t get along with any of them? What if they were messy or loud or just generally annoying? It was a dumb idea to begin with, he thought to himself, but then as he looked through the last application, something caught his eye.You. 

You seemed responsible, tidy, and overall like someone he could get along with. But there was something more about you that intrigued him. Maybe it was the way you wrote about your love for cooking and how you were looking for a quiet and peaceful place to call home. Or maybe it was the photo you attached to your application, a warm smile on your face that made Simon feel at ease. 

Maybe this could work out after all. 

And work out it did, maybe a little too well. It has now been a little over a year since you moved in, and despite Simon being gone on deployment more often than not the two of you have become very close. You cook meals together. You watch movies on lazy nights, where you will sometimes fall asleep on the couch, your lashes kissing your cheek as the soft glow of the tv illuminates your face, and Simon can’t help but feel a warmth in his heart as he tucks the fluffy blanket, that you had brought with you when you moved in, over your sleeping form.

After you moved in, his flat feels more like a home than it ever had before. It’s like you were always meant to be there, filling up the empty space in his life that he didn’t even realise was there. 

There is something so oddly domestic about all the small things you do together – sharing a cup of tea in the evenings as you talk about your day, or even playfully arguing over who gets to do the dishes that night, even though he secretly never actually minds doing them. 

Pushing the trolley down the aisles of the supermarket as the two of you do the big shop together on Sundays are one of his favourites, though. Because he knows what it looks like from the outside – just a couple doing their weekly grocery shopping. The only thing that would make the scene even more picturesque would be with a little baby in the trolley, a perfect blend of the two of you, giggling and reaching out to try and grab for the items on the shelves as you both laugh and try to keep them entertained.

These thoughts will sometimes sneak into Simon’s mind, and he will quickly shake them away, reminding himself that it is just his imagination running wild. He can’t think like that, it isn’t fair to you or to himself. But still, the idea lingers in the back of his mind, growing stronger with each passing day.

It has started to get harder and harder to ignore these thoughts, these feelings. He tries to push them away, to bury them deep down, but they keep resurfacing. He never really expected to feel this way about you, about anyone, really. But now that he has you in his life, so close yet so far from what he actually wants to be he can’t help but dream about a different life, to have a family, a future, a life outside of the military and his flat.

Suddenly, Simon starts to notice more and more babies around him. Whether it’s at the park when he is on his runs, in Tesco, or even on TV, they seem to be everywhere. And each time he sees a baby, his heart aches with longing. It doesn’t help that your neighbours just had a baby, and he has to watch you coo over the little boy every chance you get. It is like a knife twisting in his chest, knowing that he will never have that with you.

It has always been a secret desire of his, a wish he knew he would never be worthy of having fulfilled. And yet, it linger in the depths of his heart, elusive and shimmering like a mirage in the desert. The dream of someday having a family of his own, of doing things right, of breaking the cycle he had grown up in. After meeting you, his dreams became more vivid, more concrete. 

He has fallen in love with you, and that scares the living daylights out of him. He never thought he would be in this situation, especially after all the sick shit he has been through. But here you are, filling up the empty space in his heart, making him yearn for a life he never thought he could have.

But Simon is good at keeping his emotions in check, so he continues to play his part, to act like everything is okay, like he doesn’t feel this overwhelming love for you that threatens to consume him. 

But late at night, Simon lies awake in bed, when he is sure you’re sleeping and he is staring at the ceiling, his heart feels heavy with the weight of his unspoken feelings. 

And when he tries to decompress, by fisting his aching cock in his hand, guilty thoughts of you will flood his mind, making him ache with longing. 

He knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way. But the images of you, of your smile, of your laughter, of your kindness, they linger in his mind, fueling his desires. The way you smile and laugh and light up his life in ways he never thought possible, it fuels a fire within him so all consuming, so intense, that he can’t help but give in to it, even if just in the confines of his own mind.

And as he strokes himself, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you in his bed, to feel your touch, to hear your moans of pleasure. He imagines what it would be like to hold you close, to feel your warmth against his skin, to hear you whisper words of love and affection in his ear. To have you beg for him to fill your womb and mark himself as yours. He would love it – to pump you so full with his cum, for it to take root, to see your body change with his child, to create a life with you, to have a family of his own. 

He will have to bite down on his own hand to stifle his groans and to stop himself from moaning your name out loud. It’s a dangerous game he plays in the silence of the night, as he knows that these feelings, these desires, can never be acted upon. But still, he can’t help but indulge in these fantasies, in these dreams of a life that he may never have.

And as he lies in his bed after, spent and worn, a sense of guilt wash over him. He knows that it’s wrong to have these thoughts about you. But he can’t help it, he can’t control it, and as he lies in the darkness of his bedroom, he can’t help but feel the sting of longing in his chest, knowing that you lie in your own bed just down the hall, so close yet so far away.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend

Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.

Ghost

Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.

You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.

He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.

There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.

More on this later 👀.

He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.

Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.

Expect a lot of praise in bed.

Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.

Other times, he’s not so gentle.

Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.

His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.

“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”

He’s very protective of you.

He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.

Scary dog privileges.

Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.

That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.

He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.

As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.

However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.

“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”

König

Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.

But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.

He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.

When he feels like it.

He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.

You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.

Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.

Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.

He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.

Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.

A little bit silly.

And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.

Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.

One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.

He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.

Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.

Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.

It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.

Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.

“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.

“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”

His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.

“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.

“Inch by bloody inch.”

Valeria

You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.

That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.

Sexual or otherwise.

She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.

In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.

“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.

“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”

She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.

She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.

Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.

Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.

Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.

Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.

You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”

You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.

Price

He’s so father-coded fr.

He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.

Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.

John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.

Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.

The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.

When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.

A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.

On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.

E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.

He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”

“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.

“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.

“And all mine.”

Horangi

You’re the only thing that matters to him.

At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.

Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).

His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.

You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.

You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.

Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.

Unless you push him too far.

At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.

He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.

“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”

He never fails in the aftercare department, though.

Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.

Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.

A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.

Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.

Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.

Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”

Alejandro

Pre-established passionate lover.

One who is fiercely protective over you.

If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.

You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.

He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.

A thorough lover is how you might describe him.

Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.

You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.

Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.

Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.

He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.

“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.

Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”

Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.

Rodolfo

His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.

As he should.

You want it ? You got it. 

In abundance.

You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.

That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.

He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.

Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.

Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”

Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.

It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.

“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.

“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.

“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

Graves

This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.

Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.

He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.

E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.

“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”

He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.

He never expects anything from you in return.

He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.

Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.

Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.

On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.

He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.

“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.

#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.

He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.

Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[yuquinzel]

— nobody’s business.

feat. itoshi sae. a little sensual. 700+ wc. self indulgent :> publicizing your relationship with japan’s star player.

itoshi sae is holding onto your hand, a little more firmly than ever before. teal eyes out ahead on the field in front of you both searching for something you can’t name. you follow his gaze— it’s on the bleachers first, then hastily eyeing every player on the pitch. it’s on the spectators one second, then it’s on the cameras panning and zooming in from every direction.

sae grimaces when one such camera directs at the two of you, pulling you behind and away from the prying eyes of the media eager to catch just a glimpse of japan’s prized player and his partner who he keeps oh so hidden from the world.

he’s never denied being in a relationship. never tried to refute dating allegations with a non-celebrity, never once fazed to address the blurred pictures of him making out with someone in his car, never tried to hide the bruises on his neck that catch the eye of every fan leaving nobody wondering what it really is. he knows what they’ll do once they really know who you are— the paparazzi wouldn’t fucking leave you alone, following you everywhere. magazines would be willing to kill to get just one word from you and twist it to their likings. sae’s discreet with his words though, never gives them something to work with.

it was not until you addressed it to him yourself. just another article surfacing all around social media. something that had left a bitter taste on your tongue. ‘ itoshi sae and his supposed girlfriend ! ’ — it’s a picture of sae with a model you don’t know the name of, attending an event you weren’t invited to. he looks clearly unimpressed. but it helps little when every single comment under the article is how of well the two look together.

how well itoshi sae looks with someone who’s not you.

“you’ve already denied the rumours, so then why...” you’d said, avoiding his gaze for reasons you can’t pinpoint. “they always make up shit to write when their lukewarm ass doesn’t have real shit to sell.” he’d answered, “don’t think much about it. they’ll forget about it soon.”

when you didn’t say anything back, sae had known what he was to do. he’d known what it was you were asking of him with your silence. and for you, he was more than willing.

he’s sure a few cameras would’ve captured him with you by now, your face clear and beautiful for everyone to see and engrave on their papers and headlines. they’ll adorn you with pretty words and pretty adjectives, and he’ll have to share you with the eyes of the world now. something about it leaves a bitter flavor on his tongue, so he kisses you instead to taste the sweetness of your lips.

“don’t take your eyes off me,” he rasps between the kisses, one hand coming to cradle your jaw while the other hooks around your waist. “look at only me.”

“only you.” you say and sae breathes you in. he leans down closer, lips moving against yours more desperately than ever. he’s pleased with your answer. phantom touches of his hands slithering under your shirt and tracing the skin of your abdomen.

you forget about the match about to start in a mere minutes, about the cameras still desperate to get one glimpse of this very scene, and if you do remember that his teammates would march out any second now— sae makes you forget about everyone else when he tugs on your bottom lip lightly, “afraid? ” he challenges you with a long, languid glide of his tongue, “of what? I’m the only thing on your mind. ”

later when the game ends with the final pass from sae leading to a goal, the camera pans to you sitting in the vip section and cheering for sae and his team. another pans to sae when he notices you on the screen. sae ignores the roars of the crowd, ignores his teammates gathering around him, screaming for their win. he looks at you, waiting intently. you know what he’s asking of you — did you watch? he shifts forward ever so slightly — was i good?

you’re smiling as you mouth a clear I’m so proud of you — and only then does sae feels like he’s won.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

why am I posting this it's a year old 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️

[paarksunghoon]

what about childhood best friend hoon who has always seen you as the sweet and innocent kind until he accidentally stumbles upon your dirty mind and fantasies

this just did something to me

***

“What the fuck?!”

“Sunghoon!” your cheeks and neck feel like they’ve been set on fire. You mumble a quick apology and goodbye into your phone and end the call. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Your mom said you’d be home and I just got back into town.” He looks at you, frowning.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sunghoon steps through the threshold of your bedroom wearing a black muscle tank and sweatpants. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful your best friend is with perfect biceps and an abdomen that can be seen through the fabric of his tank top. Sunghoon doesn’t have to try that hard and people will still fawn over him.

He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. You see his duffle bag still in his hand but his grip seems to loosen the longer he looks at you. Sunghoon gulps and hesitantly takes a step inside of your room.

“You…I overheard you talking.”

“Why did you talk to my mom before coming come?” You ask, deflecting Sunghoon’s words in an attempt to pretend he heard nothing. “Did you drive home from school? Why is my apartment the first place you go to instead of your parents’ house?”

“Y/N.” Sunghoon’s throat feels a little too dry.

“You’re awful for not texting me before coming over.” He watches you turn around and put your phone on your table. “Anyway, how was your drive?”

Sunghoon drops his duffle bag. “I thought you were a virgin.”

You sputter. “A-A virgin? Why in the world would you think that?”

A part of you already knows this answer. Unlike you, Sunghoon’s not afraid to talk to you about his sex life and started hooking up with girls the second he left for college. He told you he lost his virginity the second he got home and updates you every so often about his sexual escapades, though not in great detail. He doesn’t press on about your sex and you don’t make it a point to bring it up because you aren’t as shameless as him.

The two of you don’t really have the dynamic where talking about sex is on the table. Or rather, he’s more open to the idea and doesn’t pry any information out of you because you’d shot him down when he asked about your virginity before you had sex for the first time. Sunghoon, for the fear of making you uncomfortable and losing his best friend, kept his mouth shut and generally always thought of you as a pretty innocent person.

You get a bit warm in the face when a sex scene in a movie comes on or whenever he plays songs that have sexual undertones to them in his car. Sunghoon has always thought you were a bit on the innocent side and figures the farthest you’ve ever gone was kissing Lee Heeseung in the eleventh grade.

But right now, his perception of you is distorted. Upon coming over after your mother told him where the spare key was, Sunghoon stood outside hoping to surprise you when he overhead you talking to your friend about a recent hookup.

“No amount of porn or book smut could really describe the feeling of a guy cumming inside of you. I had to practically beg him to take the condom off because he was worried it would be risky. But I’m on the pill so he agreed and fuck, it felt so good.”

He stands there, dumbfounded by the revaluation but can’t stop picturing you with your legs spread open for him on the bed next to you like he has for the past few weeks. Sunghoon’s face is red, no doubt.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

He whips his head to look at you. “I’m not acting funny. You’re acting funny.” Sunghoon watches you scoff and get up from your desk.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised that I fuck, Hoon.”

He sputters. “I don’t think about it.” That’s a lie.

“You don’t have to.” You shrug it off like it’s no big deal. “Do you use condoms?” Sunghoon chokes.

“No.”

Your wicked grin makes his cock jump.

“Me either.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

everything's bigger in texas

pairing: joel x reader

tags/cws: size kink, praise kink, p in v, oral f and m receiving, virginity loss

summary: go big or go home on your first time

a/n: reader is a virgin, but is not specified to be a certain age and in my mind is only a bit younger than joel

div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 2k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @faysslut @leonfucker3000 @withonly-sweetheart

It's embarrassing. It's the reason why you'd hesitated to even talk to Joel in the first place, fearing he might like you back, in which case, he might ask you out, and according to Cosmopolitan and the metaphorical grapevine, you would only get three dates at most before you'd have to end it. And you better not order the fucking lobster. Ever.

You get dolled up on the night you plan to bid him adieu. You'd feel horrible for wasting his time regardless, but the fact that he decides to treat you to dinner at a fancy restaurant for your third date, makes you feel even worse.

The worst part of it all is: you really like him. He makes you feel like you're in high school again despite the fact that he's decades past that point in his life - it's the way your heart flutters in his presence, the way he makes your cheeks heat up when he compliments you. However, this is anything but an innocent crush. You want more than the kiss on the cheek he gives you when he greets you at your doorstep, more than his hand holding yours as he helps you step in and out of the car, more than his arm around your waist as he leads you to the table.

You want him to fuck you.

You try to give yourself a pep talk in the mirror before he arrives, and for an extra confidence boost, you wear the singular pair of underwear in your drawer that matches the one bra that actually fits right, hoping it'll make you feel sexy. But what good is sexy if you’re not going to have sex?

But, at the restaurant, you decide to order a double shot of liquid courage, which is a one-way ticket to going home with Joel.

He drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. He’s so hot that even the smallest things can get you worked up. It’s the first time in a long time that your arousal has been able to override your nerves.

You barely get your coat off before you’re pressed up against the door, and he’s kissing you with a type of hunger you’ve never felt before. You know he'll leave you with a case of stache-rash but you can't bring yourself to care.

You stumble across the room to the couch – you would’ve walked backwards into the coffee table if Joel hadn’t picked you up and carried you. You’re not even that drunk - at least, not on alcohol – just insistent on not breaking the kiss until you’re out of breath and you absolutely have to. 

When his body looms over you, all you're thinking about is the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands playing with your tits, making you gasp when his thumbs brush over your nipples. 

He gets so far as slipping his hand up your dress, but the moment his fingers brush the gusset of your panties, you grab his wrist. 

"Joel—"

"Yeah?" He's quick to sit up and back off completely — not exactly what you intended but you're grateful that he respects boundaries.

"I should just be honest with you. I’ve never done this before, so I’m a little nervous…"

You're more than a little bit nervous, especially when you're so used to guys making up excuses to leave when they notice your hesitance after you reveal the truth, after they find out that they're not guaranteed to have you in bed that night.

Joel doesn't kick you out, not even close, he looks unfazed, and you're at a loss. The script you've planned says: end scene, but the camera is still rolling. You have to ad lib.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to do that. I’m more than satisfied just getting to kiss you. Hell, I’d be happy just to have you sit on the couch with me, not touching or anything.”

You should feel more comfortable - and in a way, it does - but the novelty of the situation still leaves you dumbfounded.

You can see the worry in his eyes gain prominence as you remain silent.

"Hey," he says quietly. "Are you okay? I promise we don't have to do anything like that. We can just hang out, watch a movie or somethin', no touching at all."

"But I want you, Joel. That's the problem. I really want you."

"I want you too, but only when you're ready."

“I am ready, just nervous since this is new to me.”

“Is this your first time doing anything… of that nature?”

"No, I’ve done some things, I just haven’t gone all the way yet."

Handjobs, blowjobs, the whole nine yards - well, really, the first three bases in the sports/sex analogy.

“Would you like to tell me about those things?”

The look in his eyes – sweet and suggestive all at once gives you a spark of confidence. 

"I could tell you, but I’d rather show you," you say with a flirtatious smile. 

"Only if you let me return the favor."

It takes a lot of willpower to keep yourself composed when you're face-to-dick with Joel. You feel a rush of something — lust, nerves, both? All you can think is: there's no way that is ever going to fit inside me.

It doesn't fit down your throat, not even close, but Joel's 50, not 20, so he knows that unlike in pornography, most women cannot deepthroat. He doesn't expect you to even attempt such a feat. Just looking into your eyes while you're on your knees for him is enough to get him there.

Post-orgasm, he's internally beating himself up for not using his good southern manners and pleasing his woman first. The best he can do is double his typical dedication when he goes down on you.

He doesn't need to try that hard. In what feels like mere seconds, Joel's fingers work you open, pulling an orgasm from you when he dips his head between your legs and flicks his tongue over your clit.

When he can tell you're close, he says, "I'm right here, baby. Let go for me." His lips return to your clit and with his reassurance you let yourself fall over the edge.

It's not until your fourth date that you actually make your first attempt to lose your virginity.

He makes you cum twice - once on his fingers, once on his tongue - before he even takes his cock out of his underwear.

You're tired by that time, ready to apologize and see yourself out, but then you look at him, naked and hard in front of you, and despite your exhausted body, your pussy drools (maybe your mouth too). It gives you a jolt of energy, a rush of blood down south.

Joel’s body is positioned perfectly above you, ready to give himself to you, but he waits, looks at you with admiration in his eyes but doesn’t touch you. When he does, it's his right hand on your cheek.

"Are you gonna… put it in?" you say, laughing a little – anything to break the tension.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay first," he says with a warm smile.

"I'm more than okay," you assure him.

At your confirmation, his kisses move from your cheek to your jaw, they get rougher at your neck, your collarbone. He sucks on your tits until you whine in impatience.

You feel his breath as he huffs out a laugh into your neck between kisses. But you're more focused on the head of his cock prodding at your entrance. When Joel presses himself inside you — one inch first — you both take in a sharp breath. You're audibly wet, but there's still a stretch, a sting.

Joel sees your eyes squeezed shut and feels you tense up.

"You wanna stop?" he asks.

"No," you tell him. "Just… go slow."

He takes your hand, interlocks your fingers, before giving you another inch. For whatever reason, you hadn't expected him to be this sweet during sex, but you have no complaints.

Gradually, it starts to feel better, a lot better. You start to understand why people like this so much.

But then, you accidentally sabotage yourself when your gaze fixates on his cock going in and out of your pussy. A sense of shame falls over you when you realize he's only halfway inside you.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"It's not all the way in," you sigh.

"And that's okay, baby."

"I wanted to be able to take it all… I wanted to be good for you."

"Trust me, baby, it feels fuckin' amazing. You're squeezin' me so damn tight you're gonna make me embarrass myself."

"I can't help it."

"I know," he says, leaning down to whisper beside your ear, "and that's what makes it feel even better."

You whimper quietly - it's a flustered, needy, good noise, but still, Joel cups your cheek and holds infinite comfort within his touch as he shushes you, saying, "you're doing so good for me."

With slight shift of his hips, a change in angle, he hits that special spot inside you and you can feel the pleasure begin to build.

You moan — louder than you intended to — and it almost startles Joel, briefly takes him out of his trace. He doesn't know your sobs of pleasure well enough to be sure they're not ones of pain.

"You okay? You want me to pull out?"

"No, don't pull out. Do that again," you say, frantically grasping at him, horrified at the thought of him no longer being inside you.

"Do what again?" he says with a subtle smirk that lets you know that he knows exactly what. 

"This?” he asks as he hits the same spot again and you can't tell him 'yes' when your mouth is busy with far more obscene noises, so you nod.

"Right there?" he confirms again, as he steadily thrusts in and out of you, not pushing any deeper, only meeting that special spot over and over.

It's rhetorical, and your 'uh-huh' is more than sufficient as an answer.

Pride mixes with lust and he rattles off praises, knowing he'll get your tight, wet heat to clench around him with every single word.

"You're takin' me so well, baby. You look so pretty like this," he says.

You cry out his name like it's the only word you know, over and over again.

"You're gonna make me cum if you keep sayin' my name like that, baby."

And it's not calculated dirty talk, it's just the goddamn truth.

With begging eyes and a mouthful of moans, you nod and hope your wordless gesture will convey the meaning, which is: please.

Your legs wrap around his hips and there is nothing Joel can do to hold himself back from burying himself to the hilt. There's nothing he can do to stop himself from spilling his load inside you immediately.

You swear you can feel him in your stomach, and you can see a bulge in your abdomen, and it would be fascinating if you weren't focused on clutching the sheets for dear life in an effort to save Joel from the wrath of your acrylics as you shudder through your orgasm.

You nearly lose yourself in the bliss of your high, all you know is Joel and the way he feels inside you.

When you come to, you turn to Joel and he says, "I'm proud of you," a phrase that never fails to make you melt.

You want to say "thanks" or "I love you" or any normal response one might give to that statement, but your words are already halfway out of your mouth.

"I swear you're gonna kill me with that thing," you say, gesturing to his cock, which looks not nearly as threatening when it's soft.

When he lies down beside you and wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer, you think to yourself, "maybe I am dead, and this is heaven."

You don’t realize you’ve said it aloud until Joel says, "I'm pretty sure we're still in Texas, baby.”

"Same thing.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He��s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

[seafarersdream]

Heck yeah Freddie Fox!!!!what if reader plays Gwayne and Alicent sister, but their chemistry is sooooo good that the creators had to cut their scenes together because "they're Hightowers, not Targaryens"🤣🤣🤣and the cast are having the time of their lives with that

Me and the Devil (Freddie Fox x Y/N)

Y/N L/N, who stars as Lady Eleanor Hightower, has an absolutely electric chemistry with her on-screen brother, Freddie Fox, who plays Ser Gwayne Hightower, much to the amusement and exasperation of the HOTD cast and crew.

TW // Strong language and profanities, incestuous undertones, sexual tension and innuendos.

The sun was rising behind the walls of the Red Keep, casting long, creeping shadows over the Outer Courtyard. Lady Eleanor Hightower, clad in the deep, grieving olive of her house, stood with an air of weary grace beside her sister, Dowager Queen Alicent. Her face was a picture of calm, though her eyes were heavy with the sorrow of loss and the weight of recent weeks.

“Do you think he’ll bring that dreadful horse again?” Eleanor asked, her voice soft but dripping with that sharp edge she never quite lost, even in mourning.

Alicent’s lips twitched, but she held her composure. "If he does, I’ll have it stabled outside the walls. I’m not having that beast piss all over the courtyard again."

The rumble of hooves on cobblestones drew their attention. The gates opened, and a column of knights in shining armor, bearing the sigil of House Hightower, entered the courtyard. At their head was Ser Gwayne Hightower, his helm tucked under one arm, revealing the tousled auburn hair and devil-may-care grin that Eleanor had grown so used to seeing—when he wasn’t hiding it behind an arrogant smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is. The fairest blooms of Oldtown,” Gwayne drawled, striding over like he owned all Seven Kingdoms. “Alicent, you’re still holding up the realm with that iron fist of yours. And Eleanor…” His eyes trailed over her, lingering just a fraction too long, “Looking every bit the grieving widow. Tell me, how does it feel to be free of that hideous arsehole, late Lord Hastwyck? May the Seven forgive him.”

Eleanor shot him a withering look, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. “About as good as it feels to watch you strut around like you haven’t been fucked in months.”

“Oh, fuck off, Ellie,” Freddie retorted, still in character, his grin widening. “Thought all that mourning might’ve taken the edge off your bite, but clearly, I was wrong.”

Eleanor arched an eyebrow, a smirk that could rival his playing on her lips. “And you, brother, seem as full of yourself as ever. Did the trip here inflate your ego even further?”

Gwayne grinned wider, flashing teeth. “Careful, little sister, or I’ll think you missed me.”

Alicent, tired of their verbal sparring, interjected. “Gwayne, you’ve arrived at an important time. Ser Criston Cole has replaced our father as Hand, and there is much work to be done.”

Gwayne’s grin faded into a sneer. “Ser Criston Cole? That jumped-up cunt of a knight? What, are we that desperate, we’re pulling nobodies out of the arse-end of the Kingsguard now?”

The crew, who had been trying to keep it together, finally lost it. Laughter rang out across the courtyard, cameramen shaking their heads as they tried to stay steady.

“Cut! Fucking hell, cut!” Geeta Patel called out, struggling to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She stepped forward, waving her hands as she approached the trio. “Alright, Freddie, Y/N, that was... Jesus Christ, that was incredible. But you’re not Jaime and Cersei Lannister, alright? You’re Hightowers. That kind of sibling chemistry doesn’t fly in this family. Tone down the ‘let’s fuck each other senseless’ vibes, okay?”

Freddie turned to Y/N, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Hear that, darling? We’re too bloody hot for Westeros.”

Geeta rolled her eyes, but she was smiling despite herself. “I swear, you two are going to give me aneurysm. Just... try to remember you’re siblings. No more of that smoldering shit. The Hightowers don’t do what the Targaryens do, alright?”

Freddie put on a mock-serious face, hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear to be the picture of brotherly love. No more dirty looks, no more—“

“Smoldering looks, you tosser,” Y/N corrected, elbowing him in the ribs. “And good luck with that.”

The crew was still giggling, a few members openly impressed. “Honestly, we haven’t seen chemistry like this since Game of Thrones,” one of the grips muttered, shaking his head. “It’s fucking unreal.”

As Geeta returned to her chair, giving notes to the crew, Freddie leaned in closer to Y/N. “Honestly, how are we supposed to act like siblings when you keep giving me those eyes?”

Y/N shot him a sidelong glance. “You mean the same eyes you’re giving me right now? Don’t think I don’t notice.”

Freddie chuckled, his voice low enough that only Y/N could hear. “Well then how about we really give them something to talk about?”

Y/N swatted at him playfully. “Behave yourself, Fox. Or I’ll tell Geeta.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Before Freddie could fire back, Geeta’s voice rang out again. “Alright, enough banter, you two. Places! And for fuck’s sake, remember—you’re Hightowers, not Targaryens or Lannisters!”

Freddie straightened up, slipping back into his role as Ser Gwayne, but not before giving Y/N one last, devilish wink. “For now,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

Y/N fought to keep her expression neutral, but the corners of her mouth twitched with suppressed laughter. She shot him a look that promised retribution later.

As the cameras rolled once more, they slipped effortlessly back into character, their banter sizzling with that same crackling chemistry that had the entire crew both laughing and marveling at just how damn good these two were together—siblings or not.

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On a different day, Geeta Patel was giving final instructions to Olivia Cooke and to Fabien Frankel. “Alright, Olivia, Fabien,” Geeta began, her tone calm. “This scene is all about the farewell. Criston, you’re asking for Alicent’s favor before you leave for war. This is a significant moment between you two. We need it to be subtle, yet powerful. Got it?”

Fabien nodded, his expression serious. “Got it, Geeta.”

Olivia smiled. “Ready when you are.”

Geeta gave them a satisfied nod and turned to the crew. “Okay, everyone, positions! Let’s make this one count.”

As the cameras rolled, Criston Cole approached Alicent with a grave expression, his armor gleaming in the dying light. He bowed low, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “Your Grace,” he began, his tone respectful, yet carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

Alicent looked at him with those sharp, knowing eyes, giving him a slight nod. “May the Seven guide you, good knight,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “And lead you not to shadow and death.”

Criston bowed his head even lower, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I thank Your Grace for her prayers,” he replied, his voice filled with reverence.

Alicent turned as if to leave, her gown sweeping the stones with a soft rustle. But before she could take more than a step, Criston’s voice called her back. “And I would request,” he said, his words halting her in her tracks, “that Her Grace grant me her favor. That her Lord Commander may go into battle with her blessings… in his heart.”

The scene hung heavy in the air, the tension thick between them as Criston’s plea echoed through the courtyard. Alicent hesitated, her hand brushing against the delicate fabric of her sleeve as she turned back to him, her eyes locking onto his. There was a moment of silence, a breath suspended in time, as everyone waited to see what she would do.

She finally reached into her sleeve, pulling out the small, delicate handkerchief embroidered with her initials. The camera zoomed in, capturing the intricate details, the way her fingers trembled just slightly as she held it out to him. “Take this,” she murmured, her voice carrying a subtle tremor, “as a token of my favor. Return victorious, Ser Criston. And know that you carry my thoughts with you.”

Criston bowed his head, taking the handkerchief. “Your Grace,” he replied, his voice rough, “I shall return with your favor in my heart and the victory of your cause in my hands.”

The scene was supposed to be the focal point of the episode—an understated farewell between the Dowager Queen and her paramour.

Or at least, that was the plan.

In the background, Eleanor and Gwayne were supposed to be having a far simpler exchange—just a quick farewell between siblings, nothing more.

The moment the camera panned to them, what was meant to be a brief, subdued farewell exploded into something far more dramatic.

“Eleanor, my sweet sister,” Gwayne declared, sweeping her up in an exaggerated embrace, his voice loud enough to carry across the courtyard. “How will I ever endure the horrors of war without your smile to guide me through the darkness?”

Y/N played right into it. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining with fake tears. “Gwayne, you reckless fool, you’d better come back to me—or I swear I’ll hunt you down myself.”

The crew exchanged glances, trying desperately to keep their laughter in check as the two continued to ad-lib their way through what was supposed to be a simple goodbye.

Gwayne placed a hand on Eleanor’s cheek, his expression one of melodramatic intensity. “If I do not return, tell the world I died with your name on my lips.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” someone from the crew muttered, barely audible over the sound of snickering.

Geeta Patel, perched in her director’s chair, pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Cut! CUT!” she finally called out, though her voice was tinged with reluctant amusement. “Freddie, Y/N, what the bloody hell was that? You’re supposed to be siblings, not star-crossed lovers.”

Freddie turned to Y/N with a grin that could only be described as wicked. “Sorry, Geeta, got a bit carried away there. Can you blame me? Look at her—who wouldn’t fall madly in love?”

Y/N smirked, not missing a beat. “Don’t flatter yourself, Fox. It’s called acting.”

Geeta threw up her hands in defeat. “I swear, you two are the bane of my existence. How am I supposed to get a serious scene out of you when you keep turning everything into a bloody pantomime?”

The crew was struggling to keep it together. Even Olivia, standing nearby as Alicent, was biting her lip, trying to stay in character despite the ridiculousness happening behind her.

Freddie chuckled. “Geeta, darling, I think what we’re doing here is revolutionary.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, though she was clearly enjoying herself. “What he’s trying to say, Geeta, is that we’re just too damn good together. Maybe it’s time to change the script.”

“Or maybe,” Geeta retorted, her tone playful despite her frustration, “you two could try actually sticking to the script for once. I’m pretty sure HBO isn’t paying you to improvise a Lannister-style farewell.”

Freddie turned to Y/N, pretending to consider it. “What do you think, Eleanor? Should we behave ourselves this time?”

Y/N gave a mock sigh, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off her costume. “I suppose we could try.”

Geeta couldn’t help but shake her head as she gestured for the crew to reset. “Alright, let’s take it from the top. And this time, keep it in your pants, Hightower freaks.”

Cameras rolled once more, the scene resumed, with Criston and Alicent taking center stage as intended from the start.

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The camera opens on a sleek, modern studio set, the familiar logo of Max glowing softly in the background. Y/N and Freddie are seated side by side, relaxed and comfortable, both dressed casually but stylishly—Y/N in a chic blouse and jeans, Freddie in his usual mix of sharp yet slightly rumpled attire.

The interviewer, a young woman with a cheerful demeanor, smiled warmly at them. “Thank you both for joining us today. Why don’t we start with some introductions?”

“Hello, everyone! I’m Y/N L/N, and I play Lady Eleanor Hightower on House of the Dragon,” Y/N says, her voice smooth and confident as she introduces herself.

Freddie chimes in right after. “And I’m Freddie Fox, and I play Ser Gwayne Hightower, Eleanor’s incredibly charming, dashingly handsome older brother.”

Y/N snorts, nudging him with her elbow. “You forgot modest, Freddie. Always so modest.”

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying their banter. “It’s great to have you both here. So, as you know, House of the Dragon has a massive fandom, and one of the things they love to do is theorize and create ships outside of the canon. They really get invested in the chemistry between characters—and, let’s be honest, between the actors as well.”

Freddie and Y/N exchange a look, both trying to suppress knowing smiles.

The interviewer continues with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, naturally, people are starting to wonder—could we be seeing the next Kit Harington and Rose Leslie? You know, screen partners turning into real-life partners?”

Freddie, never one to miss an opportunity for a bit of fun, suddenly turned in his seat, getting down on one knee in front of Y/N. With an exaggeratedly serious expression, he took her hand. “Y/N, dearest Lady Eleanor, would you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife? I promise to annoy you, to steal your snacks, and to outshine you in every single scene we ever do together.”

Y/N bursts out laughing, placing a hand over her heart as if genuinely touched. “Oh, Freddie, how could I ever say no to such a heartfelt proposal? But I must warn you—I take up all the covers at night, and I’m not above hiding the remote if you try to switch to football during one of our movie nights.”

The interviewer is cracking up now, along with the crew behind the cameras. “I didn’t expect this, but I’m loving it! You two are absolutely priceless.”

Freddie stood up, still holding Y/N’s hand, and they both gave a bow to the camera. “Well, you know," he says, turning back to the interviewer, “it’s all about keeping the fans on their toes. Can’t make it too easy for them to figure out what’s going on, right?”

Y/N grins. “Exactly. We like to keep things... interesting.”

The interviewer, still grinning, leans in. “So, should we start planning the wedding, or...?”

Freddie looked thoughtfully at Y/N, tapping his chin. “Well, we’re thinking of something small. Just us, a couple of dragons, and maybe a White Walker to officiate. Keep it intimate, you know?”

Y/N nodded sagely. “Very exclusive. Only the crème de la crème of Westeros.”

The interviewer shakes her head, thoroughly entertained. “Okay, okay, I think we’ve just given the fandom even more fuel for their theories! On a serious note, though, it’s clear you two have incredible chemistry. What’s it like working together on set?”

Y/N smiled warmly at Freddie before answering. “Honestly, it’s a blast. Freddie and I just click, and I think that shows on screen. We’ve got a great rapport, and it’s always fun bringing these characters to life together.”

Freddie nodded, adding, “Yeah, we give each other a lot of shit, but that’s part of what makes it work. We trust each other, and that allows us to really push the boundaries in our scenes—sometimes a bit too much, according to Geeta,” he added with a wink.

The interviewer wraps it up, still chuckling. “Well, it’s been an absolute blast talking with you both. Can’t wait to see what chaos you bring to House of the Dragon next season.”

As the camera pulls back and the lights dim, Freddie and Y/N share a quick, conspiratorial glance, knowing they’d just given the fandom more than enough to talk about—and probably a few new fanfics to write as well.

When the interview dropped on the internet, the fandom absolutely exploded. Social media was flooded with clips of Freddie’s mock proposal, and the internet lost its collective mind.

Fans were dissecting every moment of the interview, from the playful banter to the way Freddie had gazed up at Y/N during his over-the-top proposal. The comments sections were filled with fans declaring that they were “shipping” the two even harder now, some even demanding that someone should cast them both in a romcom.

Amid the chaos, Y/N decided to fan the flames a bit more. She posted a cheeky selfie on Instagram, looking effortlessly stunning as always, with a caption that read, “The coolest of the Hightower siblings.”

It didn’t take long for Freddie to jump in on the fun. He reposted her selfie to his own Instagram story, adding the caption, “THE future Mrs. Fox.”

The internet went into overdrive. Fans were tagging each other, sharing screenshots, and even their House of the Dragon co-stars started chiming in with their own comments, playing along with the joke. The whole thing had taken on a life of its own, and it was clear that Y/N and Freddie had become the fandom’s favorite new obsession.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

During a press event, when Rhys Ifans, the man behind Otto Hightower, was asked about his thoughts on Freddie and Y/N’s antics, his face split into a wide, unabashed grin.

“Well, as Otto,” he began, dropping into character with a serious tone, “I have to say, it’s a major fucking ick. Completely inappropriate! Gwayne and Eleanor getting all... cozy? That would make Otto want to strangle someone. He’d be straight to the quill, penning some strongly worded letters to sort that shit out.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, knowing exactly how Otto Hightower would react to such scandal.

“But as Rhys?” he continued, his tone shifting to one of genuine enthusiasm, “I’m all in! I mean, have you seen those two together? The chemistry is off the bloody charts! If they don’t end up getting married after all this, I’ll be sorely disappointed. They’re perfect for each other—on and off the screen.”

His lighthearted comment sent the room into a ripple of laughter, with everyone loving the idea of Rhys being a secret shipper of Freddie and Y/N.

Within hours, his quote—“Ick as Otto, but fuck yes as Rhys!”—became the battle cry of the fandom, plastered across memes, gifs, and fan art that flooded every corner of the internet. It wasn't just spreading; it was detonating.

The whole situation exploded into a full-blown phenomenon, with fans practically canonizing Rhys as the unofficial president of the Freddie and Y/N ship. People started tagging him in everything, from wild fan theories to NSFW fanfiction, with captions like “Rhys would approve” or “Otto hates it, but Rhys lives for it.”

It was unhinged, chaotic, and utterly glorious. Rhys’s endorsement didn’t just add fuel to the fire; it threw in a grenade, making the whole thing go nuclear.

[ddejavvu]

I can’t stop thinking about being a suspect in a case and being interviewed by Hotch 😭 like being so nervous and him taking it as like “??? are you even gonna try hiding it??” and you’re not gonna be honest and be like “i’m not nervous because i’m guilty i’m nervous BC YOURE A HOT OLD MAN” because this is a serious case and serious situation so it’s just Hotch trying to coax it out of you, you being all flustered looking suspicious but actually like needy for this man, and the team who caught on like “oh wait no. shes just attracted to him. why do we have hot people on the team?”

SSA Hotchner's scrutinizing gaze studies your weak posture, your fidgeting fingers, your spotty eye contact, and he muses, "You're not very good at controlling your body language."

"What?" You look at him, eyes wide and round and full of nerves. You've never been questioned before, not even by a low level security officer, much less an FBI Agent. You suppose that's making you nervous, yes, but what's really wringing you out is the fact that the one they sent to your interrogation room is just plain hot.

He's gorgeous, all sharp features that are always angled towards you, and dark eyes you'd expect of a criminal, not its captor. His suit is crisp and his voice is low; he's the pinnacle of professionalism and he's making you squirm with his undivided, discerning attention.

"You're nervous," He accuses, and you let out a soft huff in the back of your throat.

Who wouldn't be?

"You're fidgeting, you can't look me in the eyes, you lean away from me," He lists, leaning forwards in his chair to watch you repel like a magnet, your back pressing into the metal bars behind you as he proves his point.

"I'd think someone with the criminal expertise to commit six murders without witnesses would have a better handle on their outward appearance."

"I'd think so, too," You manage, not without stammering, "Agent- Agent Hotchner, I- I'm not-"

"You're not guilty? You're the closest thing we have to a suspect," He doesn't let your stuttering deter him, leaning ever-closer until you're flattened against the back of your chair and he's still advancing. He rises from his seat, inching closer and closer as he continues, "You miraculously discovered the body at an odd hour of the night when you had no business being at the scene of the crime, you called it in, you told the police you knew nothing, you're telling me you know nothing, but still," He's inches away from you now, and every nerve in your body is aflame with mortification at the very unhelpful fantasies rushing through your head as he pins you to the chair.

"-You insist on your innocence, but I don't think you're innocent at all. I think you're trying to toy with us, but we don't play games, you won't win. Understand?" His dark eyes bore into your own and you're painfully attracted to them, biting the inside of your cheek to stop from begging him to back away before you lose control and surge forward to kiss him. He refuses to blink, but you're doing it enough for the both of you, lashes rapidly fluttering as you try calming your pounding heart. He watches you for one, two, three, four, five seconds, expecting a hurried confession at any moment, but the door clicks open before you can stammer something humiliating.

"Hotch," It's a dark-haired woman, and god, does the FBI recruit people based on attractiveness? She's stunning and she turns her beautiful eyes on you in sympathy, "Back off, Hotch. She's innocent."

He narrows his eyes at her almost imperceptibly, turning away from you, "You found the unsub?"

"No," She admits, "But it's not her. Okay? I just know."

"You just- Agent Prentiss," Agent Hotchner stands straight, "That's not protocol."

"I know," She gushes, but she strides confidently through the room to ease you upright and out of your chair, "Just- let me handle this, okay? Come on, honey, we'll talk somewhere private."

Agent Hotchner lets her take you away, and he must trust her, even if he's watching her with narrowed eyes. Maybe this is some interrogation tactic, maybe the woman leading you by the shoulder through the precinct is the good cop, and he was the bad one.

She leads you past a cluster of people all leaning against desks or hunching over files, and a slim blonde woman shoots you a knowing smile. What she knows, you're not sure, but you wish so badly that it were comforting.

The woman walking with you leads you straight to the front door, taking your purse from where they'd confiscated it earlier and handing it back to you.

"You're free to go," She smiles at you, eyes nothing but kind, "I'll tell him you proved your innocence."

"But- what," Your fingers are almost too limp to keep your bag in their grip, "I don't understand-"

"I do," She grins, "He's handsome, I get it. He tends to forget that."

Your cheeks sear with flames that you wish would turn you to ash right then and there, so that you could be carried away on the breeze and not have to answer for your embarrassing instincts.

"Don't worry about it," She laughs, clearly sympathetic to your panic, "Trust me, you're not the first person that's squirmed in their seat under the intense gaze of Aaron Hotchner. He's a smart man, but never smart enough to figure out when someone likes him. You're free to go, honey," She repeats, reaching out to squeeze your arm, "And if you ever get dragged into an investigation again - which I hope you don't," She grins, "I wish you a very ugly investigator."

[denimbex1986]

'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

[ha-rinrin]

"Is there something wrong with my pants?"

Summary: Jinx's comes home after getting half of Zaun out of Stillwater with a doubt on her mind.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

Authors note: I laughed so hard at this scene that I had to write something based on it. Also, guys, I'm absolutely refusing to accept the ending of episode 6 for my own mental health.

masterlist

The hideout is still, the quiet hum of the machinery and the flicker of a dim lamp your only company. You've been waiting for Jinx, trying not to imagine all the chaos she’s causing out there. You know she’s been working on something big, but you’re never quite sure exactly what until she shows up.

The door slams open, and in she bursts, her energy almost tangible as she steps into the room. Jinx is practically glowing, a grin stretched across her face that matches the wild sparkle in her eyes. Her clothes are messy, but she’s hardly bothered by it, her usual chaotic aura taking over.

“Guess who just pulled half of Zaun outta Stillwater?” she announces, her voice thick with excitement. She practically bounces in place, her fingers twitching like she’s about to explode with more energy.

You blink, surprised. “Wait—half of Zaun? You mean you—”

Jinx nods, cutting you off with a quick motion of her hands. “Yeah! I snuck in, all stealthy-like, dodged the enforcers, and got them out. No one even knew what hit ‘em! They’re gonna be talking about this for ages, trust me.” She leans in closer, her face lighting up with that grin that’s both wild and contagious. “I’m like their ghost, except, you know, way cooler.”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, though a small part of you wonders how she managed it without being caught. She’s reckless, but she’s also clever in her own strange way.

Her voice drops a little, a mix of excitement and something softer underneath it. “It felt good, y’know? Being the one who saves the day for once.” She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, glancing at you like she’s half unsure if you’ll think it’s stupid.

You step forward, catching her eyes with a soft smile. “I’m proud of you, Jinx. You did something good today.”

Her eyes widen slightly, a little surprised at the words, before her usual grin returns, if a little softer now. "Well, I don’t always blow things up, y’know." She shrugs, still trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but you can tell she’s pleased.

“Yeah, but you always make it exciting," you reply, stepping closer to her, your voice warm. "Only you could pull something like that off and get away with it."

Jinx laughs, her energy rising again, and she twirls around once more, feeling the high of her success. "Well, they won’t be calling me ‘crazy’ for much longer! They’ll be calling me a hero soon enough—just wait!"

You smile, watching her, knowing that her idea of ‘hero’ is always going to be a little different from the norm. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After the rush of adrenaline begins to fade, Jinx’s usual wild energy starts to settle, leaving behind a quieter, more tired version of her. She lets out a long breath, her grin softening as she moves to the couch, her steps a little less bouncy now.

“You know,” she says, her voice much softer than before, “sometimes, all that sneaky, saving-the-day stuff takes more out of me than I thought.”

She drops onto the couch with a sigh, sprawling out, but then pats the empty space next to her, glancing up at you with a mischievous smile. “C’mere. You’re not gonna leave me hanging after all that, are you?”

You raise an eyebrow but walk over anyway, sitting next to her. As soon as you do, Jinx pulls you down beside her, her arms wrapping around you like a vice, dragging you closer as she snuggles into your side.

“Perfect,” she mutters, resting her head against your shoulder with a contented sigh. Her usual wild energy has faded, replaced by something softer, something that only ever seems to appear when she’s with you. She lets out a small, satisfied hum, clearly enjoying the comfort of just being close to you after everything.

“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m a total freak," she says after a few moments of quiet, her voice more vulnerable than she usually lets on. "You’re the only one who gets it… and me." She nuzzles into your side, her arms tightening around you slightly.

You smile softly, resting a hand on her back, your fingers gently tracing the familiar lines of her jacket. "You’re not a freak, Jinx. You're just... you. And that’s all I need."

She glances up at you, her eyes bright, but there’s something softer there now, something deeper than the usual spark of mischief. "Good," she mutters with a quiet chuckle. "’Cause I’m never gonna change." Her grip on you tightens a little, and she settles further into your side, clearly at peace now. “So, I’m gonna stay here and cuddle until the world falls apart again. You cool with that?”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours, the chaos of her day finally falling away as she rests against you. “I’m more than cool with that.”

Jinx lets out another satisfied sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxes even more, completely at ease in your arms. And for once, everything feels calm—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in a world that’s spinning too fast for anyone else to catch

Jinx stays nestled against you for a while, the chaos of the day melting away in the quiet comfort between you. Her breathing has slowed, and she feels more relaxed than she has in hours. The soft hum of the hideout is the only sound, but then, out of nowhere, she shifts slightly in your arms, her mood taking a subtle dip.

You feel her tense, just for a second, and her voice comes out a little softer than usual. “Hey… um… do you think there’s something wrong with my pants?”

You blink, not sure if you heard her correctly. And then, you glance down at her—her eyes wide, her lips pressed together like she’s genuinely worried. It’s such a stark contrast to the wild, unpredictable energy she usually exudes. The sudden vulnerability in her face, combined with the seriousness of her tone, is almost too much.

And before you can stop yourself, you burst out laughing. It’s not mean-spirited, just genuine, surprised amusement. The ridiculousness of the question, paired with the look on her face, catches you off guard.

Jinx blinks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she watches you laugh. “What?” she asks, her voice a little defensive, though the corners of her mouth twitch in response to your laughter. "Is it really that funny?"

You try to catch your breath, still chuckling. “Jinx… you—" You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, grinning. “You’re worried about your pants? Look at you! You’re the last person who should care about that!”

She pouts for a moment, her arms still around you as she pulls herself a little closer, almost like she’s trying to hide. “It’s not funny, okay?” she mutters, her voice quieter now, though there’s still a hint of that pout on her lips. "That enforcer made me feel stupid... and I didn’t like it."

You stop laughing, realizing just how much it’s bothering her. You gently tilt her chin up to look at you, the playful tone fading as you meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jinx,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. “It’s just… you’re telling me this, and then I look at you, and I’m like— … Who cares what she thinks?”

She stares at you for a moment, the pout fading as she lets out a small breath. “Yeah, but still...” she trails off, still fiddling with the fabric of her pants.

You grin, brushing a hand through her hair as you pull her back into you. “You’re perfect, Jinx. Those pants? Totally you. No one else could pull them off like you do.”

her head resting against your chest as she lets out a soft sigh, the weight of her earlier worries starting to ease away. “You’re the best,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile, kissing the top of her head. “You’d probably blow something up, but I’d still be right here.”

And just like that, the tension fades. She’s back to her usual self—still a little quirky, but reassured and relaxed in your arms.