#don't ask me where this came from bc i have no answer to that

[yoiku]

babies stink.

[neo-shitty]

spring day never latches on to a permanent face. it takes the form of the people i miss whom i have no way of reconnecting with. ever since i read that message in my inbox, it has taken the form of you, kesya.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!

im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3

Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.

He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.

His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.

When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.

The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.

Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.

"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.

"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.

"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.

"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.

"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.

You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.

"Where are you right now? Home?"

"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"

"I'll be there soon."

He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.

Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.

He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.

He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.

Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.

He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.

You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.

You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.

Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.

You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.

He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.

When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.

"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?

"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.

"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.

"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."

He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.

You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.

"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.

"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."

You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.

"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"

He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.

"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.

Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.

He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.

It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.

Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.

Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.

"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.

Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.

"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.

"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"

"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.

You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.

"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."

"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.

"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."

Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.

"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.

"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.

"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."

[cowboybeepboop]

Wild ride

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 5206

Summary: Tyler comforts you through a panic attack after a storm. He then rescues you from your fight with Javi. You take a drive to a hotel and then things get very heated.

a/n: this is entirely a reader insert to the movie bc I thought it would fit so perfectly. Also this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever wrote lmao 😭 Hopefully you enjoy!

When you moved to New York it wasn’t just to get away from the place where your friends all died. It was because you couldn’t live there without feeling guilt about being the reason everyone was out there to begin with. The shame and guilt was burning you, inside and out. All for what? What did it get you? Nothing. If you couldn’t tame a tornado you were going to do everything in your power to help people prepare and get out before it was too late. So when Javi came to you asking for help with storm par, you wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that there was no way you could ever possibly go back not after what you did.

But when he was explaining how they would be making a perfect 3D scan of the tornado and how it can be used to help save lives, you knew you had to help. He was right. You could get him close enough to the tornado in order to set up the portable units.

As time passes you find yourself more intrigued by the self proclaimed “Tornado Wrangler”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. At the same time though, he’s frustrating. Like all he cares about is chasing the storm and making money instead of realizing how much damage these things cause.

“Javi, we have to help.” You say sternly as he keeps talking about the stupid sensor. “Javi! It’s a small town, they’re going to need all the help they can get, we need to help.” He sighs.

“Alright, alright. I’ll look for it later, okay?” You press a hand to his arm gently. “You made a good call. They really do need our help.” Javi pulls off to the side of the road, taking the keys out. You quickly leave the truck and go off to help.

We worked through the afternoon, finding lost heirlooms, important documents, and small mementos that people had thought were lost forever. Each time, their faces would light up with relief, and I’d feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing I could make a difference.

The sun had broken through the clouds, casting long shadows over the town. The cleanup was far from over, but the worst was behind us. People were starting to talk again, making plans to rebuild. There was a sense of hope in the air, fragile but growing stronger with each passing minute.

You’re watching Javi and Scott interacting with an old guy and someone who lost their bar. Your eyebrows furrow as they offer him a card. “Didn’t know storm par was in the business of helping people,” you hear the familiar cowboy’s voice ringing through the air.

”Well, from what I see they’re trying to make a difference.” You turn to look at Tyler, wrapping your arms around your upper body.

”That’s one way of putting it,” he narrows his eyes while looking behind you at Javi.

“What?” you clench your jaw.

“Do you even know who you’re chasing for?”, his voice raises slightly. ”How much more do these people got to lose before y’all are done making a difference?” His face tightens as he grinds his teeth slightly.

”Sorry, says the guy setting up shop selling t-shirts and mugs after a storm’s hit.” You turn around before he can answer. Pulling the keys Javi gave you out of your pocket. Right as you’re reaching for the door, Lily yells your name.

”Hey, take some food,” she hands you a brown takeout box and a water bottle.

”Oh, I don’t have any cash on me,” you give a half smile.

”It’s okay, that’s why we're always selling shirts and mugs, so we can help give people food.” You shake your head as your eyes widen slightly.

”Then you should keep it, in case you run out.” She hands you the water bottle.

“At least take the water, stay hydrated.” You nod and tell her to stay safe.

Once you get back to the motel you quickly take a shower. Sitting down on the bed with your laptop you look up “Marshall Riggs” you bite down on your cheek, your eyes closing after you read up on him. Pinching your nose bridge you let out a sigh, closing the device.

There’s a knock at the door, you get up slowly and open it. “Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying down by the rodeo.” You don’t say anything in return so he offers you a small pizza box. “Thought you might be hungry,” you take it and shut the door in his face.

You reopen the door, “Thank you, Tyler.” He smiles sweetly.

“How are you doin’, after all that?” Your head nods softly. “How about I show you something nice, city girl.” He offers you his arm.

”And what’s that?” Stepping out of your room you close and lock the door before taking his arm. He doesn’t reply but instead leads you to the stadium at the rodeo. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the dusty rodeo grounds. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of grilled food, mingling with the earthy smell of the arena. Families filled the bleachers, kids waving flags and clutching cotton candy, while seasoned rodeo-goers leaned against the rails, hats tipped low, eyes sharp with anticipation.

As the night wore on, the rodeo continued—steer wrestling, bronc riding, and more, each event bringing its own excitement and challenges. The crowd cheered, laughed, and gasped, caught up in the spectacle. In the arena, cowboys were competing in the team roping event. Dust kicked up as the horses thundered forward, riders expertly casting their lassos around the horns of the steers. The crowd roared with approval when a duo managed to secure a flawless catch, the announcer’s voice booming in congratulations.

“So tell me about yourself city girl,” Tyler’s voice is low and gentle.

“You know you keep calling me that,” you turn to him, “ but this isn’t my first rodeo, I grew up here in Oklahoma.” Turning back to the events in front of you.

“Would you look at that, I finally learned something about you.” His lips curve up as he admires your side profile.

Back behind the scenes, in the holding pens, a few of the seasoned ranch hands started to glance nervously at the sky. They could see it now—a line of dark, swirling clouds on the horizon, moving faster than seemed natural. A wind had picked up, too, sharper and colder than it had been just minutes ago. But the rodeo continued, the excitement and noise drowning out any sense of unease.

A leaf falls onto your head, you reach your hand up into the air as you watch the leaves fall around you. “Tyler, the air feels heavy, this isn’t right.”

In the ring, the next event was starting: the barrel racing. A young girl was about to make her run when a sharp crack of thunder boomed overhead, so loud it momentarily drowned out the announcer. The crowd murmured, looking up at the sky as the first raindrops began to fall. But as she rounded the first barrel, the wind hit, strong and fierce, whipping dust and debris across the arena. The rain intensified, turning into a heavy downpour that sent people in the stands scrambling for cover. The announcer tried to keep up the energy, but his voice was lost in the wind. In the distance, a low, ominous rumble filled the air—not thunder this time, but something far more menacing.

There's barely time to react before the rodeo’s emergency siren began to wail, a long, shrill warning that sent a chill down everyone’s spine. People were running, some heading for their cars, others diving for the nearest ditch or sturdy structure. The craze of people began pushing and trampling one another, Tyler quickly grabs a woman who fell. He helps her up to her feet and guides you toward the hotel you’re staying at.

“There! Let’s check for a basement,” you nod as you both run inside. There’s a couple arguing with the clerk, you’re checking around for a doorway that might lead to a basement. Tyler tries to ask the man working the front desk but to no avail. “Outside, there’s an empty pool.” You yell to Tyler, “we can try there” he nods and you begin leading the young mother and daughter out the door, Owen’s and the man follow close behind. Once you get the mother and girl down you jump in. Directing them toward the open piping. “Hold on there, cover her head.”

You grasp onto the pipes holding on tight as you feel Tyler’s chest pressing against your back. He keeps his hands tight around the bars, he keeps himself tight against you making sure you don’t move.

“You’re gonna be okay, keep holding on. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” he’s whispering into your ear. You tightly squeeze your eyes shut feeling as though you’re being transported back to the day when you lost everything.

It started with a flutter in your chest, like the faint rustling of wings. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to nerves, but the flutter didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, spreading through your body like wildfire. Your breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, each breath feeling like it wasn’t enough, like there wasn’t enough air.

It started with trembling hands, and then your whole body followed, shaking uncontrollably. Feeling lightheaded, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly disappeared, leaving you suspended in a void. My chest tightened, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it even harder to breathe.

As quickly as the storm had begun, it passed over. Tyler wraps his arms around you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your body continues to shake as you can’t seem to breathe. “It’s okay, just follow my breathing,” he turns you around so your face is in his chest.

”Deep breaths, in and out,” Tyler gives gentle directions as he rubs his palms over your arms.

”I think I’m okay now..” your voice is soft and hoarse as you choke the words out. His cold, rough hand gently brushes the hair from your face.

“You look like you’ve been through hell tonight.” He says, while helping you out of the pool. You stifle a small laugh in response. Boone and the rest of his crew come up to the pair of you, asking if you’re both alright.

“Y/N, baby. Are you okay?” Javi appears behind you, his hands gently pressing into your hips as he pulls you into a tight hug.

Tyler feels a pang of jealousy as he watches Javi slide his hands lovingly around your hips and pull you into the hug. He tries to shake the feeling, reminding himself that it’s not his place to care. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him.

“I came as soon as I heard,” his eyes filled with worry as you looked up at him. “Where did you hide out? The pool?” You just nod in response, finding comfort in his arms. Javi keeps repeatedly asking if you’re okay, running his fingers through your hair and resting one hand on your waist.

“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you pull away from him, giving a soft smile. “I was with Tyler the whole time, he made sure I was okay.” He nods but his eyes flicker behind you.

“Javi, your little girlfriend is fine, now let's get to work.” Scott says loudly, catching the attention of Tyler and Lily. “Apparently this place was family owned so I’m gonna start working on numbers. Riggs is gonna want those first thing.” His voice and face are both emotionless and cold, sending a slight shiver down your spine.

“Wait wait,” you hold onto his arm. “What exactly is Riggs getting out of all your data collection?”

“What’s the matter?” He scratches his neck and awkward expression flashing over his features.

“Is profiting off of people’s tragedy part of your business plan? Why are you doing this?” You pull away from his body.

“Riggs is offering these people a way to move on with their lives.” He takes a step back from you, his voice raising slightly.

“Swooping in and taking advantage of people, who have just lost everything” you take a deep breath to steady your shaky voice “You have no idea what that’s like”

“I don’t know what that’s like?” His fist clenches “How about losing three of my best friends while you were trying to land a big fat grant for your science project?”

Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you look up at him, lip quivering. “Take your keys, I’m done.” You toss them at his feet walking off as fast as you can. Finding yourself drawn to Tyler and his wrangler team.

Tyler witnessed the whole exchange, and his protective instinct flares up again. He watches you stomp away from Javi, a mixture of anger and concern etched on his face. He notices the tears in your eyes and the wobble in your lip. He steps forward and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

“Can you just take me somewhere please?” Your voice trembles while Javi yells after you. Asking you not to leave like this.

Tyler shoots a warning glare over his shoulder at Javi before turning back to you. “Of course, darling. Anywhere you want to go.” Owen’s voice is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.

He gently takes your elbow, steering you away from Javi, and his crew. Tyler leads you over to his Truck in the parking lot where the motel once was, his hand still on your elbow. Tyler opens the passenger door and guides you onto the seat, shutting the door before making his way around to the driver's side.

A sigh escapes your lips as you relax into the seat. You softly massage your nose bridge keeping your eyes squeezed shut as a tear escapes one of your eyes.

Tyler watches you silently as you try to regain your composure. He can sense the pain and hurt radiating off of you, and he wishes he could take it all away. After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Hey, look at me for a second.” He puts his hand on your knee rubbing small circles into your skin.

You open up your eyes, turning to look at him. Your lip still quivering slightly. Tyler’s heart aches as he looks into your tearful eyes. He reaches out and gently wipes the tear away with his thumb, his rough hands surprisingly tender against your face.

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. You’re gonna stay with me tonight, okay?” His hand travels down your cheek as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before he starts the car he reaches into the backseat pulling out one of his hats, putting it on with his signature smile.

“You know, you deserve way better than that,” he turns the keys in the ignition. “You can do way better than him anyway.” You giggle while brushing your teary eyes.

“Do you think Javi and I are a couple?” Your once sorrow filled eyes light up with your laugh. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tyler's mouth as he watches you laugh. The sight of your smile warms his heart, and the pang of jealousy eases a bit.

“I mean, he seemed pretty possessive of you back there. And the way he was touchin’ up on you…” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory.

“Don’t tell me that makes you jealous,” a small smirk decorates your lips. You lean closer to his side, turning your body to further face him.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you lean closer to him, a wave of electricity coursing through his veins. He tries to keep his cool, but the hint of possessiveness flickers in his eyes once again.

“Jealous? Me?” he scoffs, trying to convince himself more than you.

Your eyes light up “Oh you’re totally jealous,” you brush your fingers over the skin on his arms, moving your hand to meet his.

A shiver runs down Tyler’s spine as your fingers travel along his skin, his heartbeat quickening at your touch. He tries to maintain a cool demeanor, but the flutter in his chest gives him away.

“Jealous? Of that jackass?”, his voice a little rougher this time. He looks down at your hand in his, noticing how small and delicate it looks against his own, rough and calloused hands. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to interlace his fingers with yours.

“Is that so?” You interlock your fingers with his as you lean over to kiss his temple. “It’s okay to be jealous, just tell me you don’t like seeing other men touching me,” you whisper into his ear, your voice filled with amusement.

Tyler takes a sharp breath as you interlace your fingers with his, his hand clamping tight around yours. “It does make me jealous,” he admits, his voice a gravelly whisper. His free hand squeezes the steering wheel, the muscles in his arm flexing tightly. “Alright, I don’t like seeing other men touchin’ you.” He brushes his thumb over the top of your hand.

A blush quickly rises up your face as you squeeze his hand firmly. Resting your head against his shoulder you bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Are we almost to a hotel?” Your heart races as you feel the muscles in his arm flexing.

Tyler glances out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract himself from the feeling of you resting against his shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still low and rough.

“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, the gentle movement betraying the tension in his body. He can’t help but steal a glance down at you, taking in your blushing face and the way you bite down on your lip. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.

Using your free hand you run your fingers over his thigh, letting your mind wander as you think about your plans for the night. Trailing your hand closer and closer to his hips teasingly.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you run your fingers along his thigh, his body tense as you trail your hand closer to his hips. His mind starts racing with impure thoughts, visions of you pinned beneath him, your skin against his. He swallows hard, his muscles tensing further as he tries to control himself.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game, you know that?” his voice low and rough, almost coming out as a growl.

“Yeah?” You run your fingers over his golden belt buckle, “I like dangerous games,” your tongue poking out as you lick your bottom lip.

Tyler swallows hard when you touch his golden belt buckle, his body shuddering under your touch. He shifts in his seat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him while also struggling to keep his eyes on the road.

“Oh yeah? How dangerous are you willing to go?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. He glances down at your tongue on your lip, his eyes darkening as he imagines what it would feel like against his skin.

“That depends, love,” you press soft kisses into his neck, moving your hand from his, resting it on his chest. “How far are you gonna wanna go?” Your eyes flicker to the hotel sign as the truck pulls into the parking lot.

Tyler lets out a shaky breath as you pepper kisses along his neck, his heart stuttering at the feeling of your lips on his skin. He places a hand over yours on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath your touch.

“Damn, darlin’, you’re really testing my limits right now.” he manages to say, his voice a growl. “But if it were up to me I’d go as far as you’d let me.”

He looks out the window as the truck pulls into the hotel parking lot, his mind racing with all the possibilities that the night holds. He leaps out of the truck running to your side to open the door for you.

“Well, you better hurry up and find us a room then,” you shut the door behind you. You pull the hat from his head, placing it on yours.

Tyler watches you stride ahead of him, his eyes drinking in the sight of his hat sitting on your head. He adjusts his jeans, trying to hide the stiffness growing in his groin as he follows you up to the hotel check-in desk.

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” he mutters to you as he gets the room keys from the attendant. You flash him an innocent smile as you step into the elevator.

“But you’re too cute when you’re flustered.” Looking up at him you press both hands against his well-built abs. You slip your thigh between his legs as he reaches for the buttons on the elevator, pressing into his groin.

Tyler’s breath hitches at the feel of your hands on his stomach, his muscles flexing under your touch. His heart nearly pounds out of his chest as your thigh brushes against his stiffness, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the contact.

“Jesus, darlin'...you’re gonna be the death of me.” he pants, the words thick with lust. He struggles with the elevator buttons, his hands fumbling as his mind becomes increasingly clouded with need.

You stand up on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear “That’s the plan,”. You move one hand up to his jaw, pulling his face to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me yet?” You mumble.

Tyler swallows hard as you tease his ear with your hot breath, his body growing taut with desire. He looks down at your face, his gaze fixated on your lips as you speak. The words send a shiver down his spine, his restraint slipping by the second.

“You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” his lips hover just above your own. He runs a thumb across your lower lip, his eyes darkened by lust.

“Tyler, I want you to do much more than just kiss me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your chest against his. “Please,” you breathe out. The elevator dings as you get to the floor of your room.

Tyler’s control snaps at your words, a low growl escaping his lips as you press against him. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, the pleading tone of your voice nearly undoing him.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice, darlin’” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the elevator and towards your room. You giggle into his ear while he unlocks the door.

Tyler grins at the sound of your giggles, his chest rumbling with a satisfied chuckle. He kicks the hotel door open, his eyes locking on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. He sets you down on the edge of the bed, towering over you as he places his hands on your thighs. You both kick your shoes off really quickly before getting back to it.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck as you pull his face to yours. You kiss him with hunger. Your free hand sliding up his shirt as you feel his smooth abs.

Tyler groans deep in his throat as you pull him towards you, his body responding instantly to your touch. He devours your lips with a primal need, his tongue exploring your mouth as he presses his body up against yours. His muscles twitch under your hand, fire spreading through his veins as you glide your fingers across his abs.

“Goddamn it, Y/N… you're makin' me crazy.” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. He kisses you again, his hands roaming up your thighs, tracing the curves of your body with rough yet tender caresses.

Your hands trail down his abdomen, landing on his belt buckle once again. Your fingers fumble with his belt before successfully pulling it out. Breaking the kiss you quickly remove your shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.

“Mm Ty…” sucking on your bottom lip as you lean back on your hands while looking up at him seductively.

Tyler sucks in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch. Once you remove your shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath, his gaze trails over your body, his eyes darkened by lust. He watches you lean back on the bed, your eyes locking with his in a sultry gaze.

“Mmm darlin’...” you sit up and pull him closer by the loops on his jeans, his strong legs coming between your own, spreading them apart. Lifting up his shirt you press kisses all over his tanned skin.

He reaches his hand out to touch your exposed skin, his fingers gently tracing your collarbone. “Then why don’t you do something about it baby?” You ask in a low tone.

His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer as you spread your legs even wider for him. “Oh baby, you don't know what you're gettin' yourself into” he whispers, his voice rumbling with need.

He suddenly grips your hips tightly and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he pins you against the bed. Reaching up you pull his shirt over his head almost moaning at the sight of his toned body.

He smirks as he watches your eyes rake over him, his ego growing at your reaction. “You like what you see, Y/N?” He asks, his voice rough with desire as he looks down at you, his body pressing against yours.

“Most definitely,” you capture his lips in a deep kiss, maneuvering to put him on his back, straddling his hips. Moving back you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. Pulling the pants off his hips you smile to yourself as you see how worked up you got him. Your hand slips into his boxers wrapping around his length.

He lets out a guttural moan, body arching into yours at the contact. “Oh God, baby…” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a string of curses. Tyler's sharp intake of breath was your reward, and you relish in the feeling of power it gives you. He grips the bed sheets tightly as you pull his dick out, wrapping your lips around the tip.

“Fuck,” he moans as you pull off and sit back on the bed, making sure your teasing antics continue. All you really want is for Tyler to take complete control and you know exactly how to make him. With slow, purposeful movements, you remove your bra, freeing your breasts and running gentle hands over your own body, nipples hardening under your touch. Then you sit back, pulling your panties off, giving him a show.

Tyler's breathing quickens, his desire palpable. "Damn it, Y/N, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with need. "Stop teasing and give it to me."

A slow, seductive smile spreads across your face. "I'm not teasing, Tyler," you say, reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh. "I'm just getting started." Guiding his hand, you slowly part your legs, exposing your wet, eager pussy to his touch. Tyler's fingers delve between the folds, his touch both gentle and demanding. You moan, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back while you relish in the sensation.

"That's it," you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. "Touch me, Tyler. Make me cum." Your voice comes out in a gentle beg.

Tyler's other hand joins the first, exploring your most intimate places, his thumbs circling your clit as he plunged his fingers into the tight hole. Your hips buck as you begin riding his hands with waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Yes, just like that," you pant, your body trembling. "Oh, God, Tyler, don't stop. I'm so close."

Tyler quickens his pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."

With a sharp cry, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure rips through your entire body. Tyler continues working his magic, drawing out your orgasm and prolonging the exquisite sensation.

Finally, as the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse into the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch a breath. Tyler hovers over your frame, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of triumph and desire.

"That," he said, his voice raw, "was just the beginning. Especially after all of that teasing you did,” his voice low and sultry. Tyler's lips curve into a devilish smile as he positions himself between your trembling legs. In one smooth thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. Moaning at the stretch, your body welcomes the invasion.

Tyler begin to move, his hips driving into you with a rhythmic pace. Meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on. The bed creaks in time with their passionate dance, the sound of your guys’s passionate gasps and moans filling the room.

"Harder, Tyler," you moan, your body craving much more. "Fuck me harder."

Tyler obliges, his movements becoming more urgent as he plunges into you again and again. The room echos with the sounds of your carnal coupling, the air heavy with the scent of sex.

Your body coils tight once more, climbing towards another orgasm. "I'm gonna cum again," you cry out, voice hoarse. "Don't stop, Tyler, please don't stop."

Tyler grunts his response, his own orgasm building. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding your slightly swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. It was all the stimulation you needed, and with a shout of release, you shatter into pieces, juices flooding around Tyler's hard cock.

Feeling you contracting around him, Tyler finally let go, thrusting deeply into you. Moaning into your ear as he spilled his seed, filling you with his warmth. You both cling to each other, breathing coming in ragged gasps as the two of you ride out the waves of your shared ecstasy. Collapsing onto the bed, bodies still joined, Tyler rolls onto his back, bringing your exhausted body with him so laying sprawled on top of him.

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

a/n (again): sorry just wanted to say that I’m working on making some more twisters smut, but i also have top gun maverick smut if y’all wanna check that out 😝🙏

[miniimight]

Hellooo! Could you please write for the boys where the reader is sick but doesn't tell them bcs she doesn't wanna bother them?? I love your your blog sm 💙💙

HIDING YOUR SICKNESS ! reader doesn't wanna bother her boyfriend

with izuku, bakugo, rody + fem!reader (pro hero era)

notes thanks for the request anon !!

you: hey i don't think i can make our date tonight... i'm sorry, something came up

he frowned when he got the text. he pinched the bridge of his nose and his overthinking kicked in. you'd been distancing yourself a lot recently... between you spending all your time at someone else's place, having to postpone dates, and his hero work, you barely got to see each other.

he was worried. he pressed the call button and waited for you to pick up.

IZUKU

"hello? y/n?"

you folded from the concern in his voice. he was always going to be worried about you, no matter what you tried to do.

"izuku..." you rasped and you could tell he was taken aback.

"what's wrong, honey?" he said softly. "you don't sound too good..."

you bit your lip. oh, what the hell. he was going to find out anyway. "i'm just a little sick, that's all. i can handle—"

"sick?!" izuku exclaimed and you shied away from his volume. "my love, you should have told me."

"no, it's really okay—"

"how long have you felt this way? is this why you've been postponing our dates? where are you right now?" he ignored your protests and rambled on with more questions for a bit. you weakly answered them all.

"okay, sweetheart, i'm on my way." you could hear him huffing as you assumed he leapt across rooftops. "stay on call..."

a burden was lifted off your shoulders, and the relief made you fall asleep right then and there.

later—though how much later, you didn't know—you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. groaning, you stretched your arms and propped your body up with your elbows.

"oh, you're awake. lay down, love."

you tuned into izuku's voice, squinting through your daze. he was sitting at your bedside, a wet rag in his hand. he shushed you when you tried to ask him all your questions, gently laying the rag across your forehead and kissing your heated cheek.

"you had a fever, honey." izuku hummed, pulling the chair closer to the bed and leaning over the side. "you shouldn't have been under all those stuffy blankets."

you frowned and looked around. the windows were open, the curtains flowing as fresh air filtered in. it was true, you did feel a little less suffocated.

you pursed your lips, feeling guilty. "i'm sorry."

he was absolutely bewildered. "what could you possibly be sorry for?"

you sniffed, rubbing your eyes. "you were at work, right? and..."

izuku softened, stroking your temples with understanding. "it's never an issue for me to take care of you, love. don't be sad. just relax and let me handle everything, okay? i'm here now, to take care of you."

BAKUGO

"where are you and why have you been avoiding my calls?"

you pressed your lips into a thin line. straight to the point, as usual. "i'm... i'm staying at a friend's for the time being." you tried to speak evenly, without any tiredness.

you heard bakugo sigh deeply. "what's the matter, baby? and don't think about hidin' anything from me."

you groaned internally, letting your head drop against the mattress. you mumbled.

"what was that?"

you flared up, heat overwhelming your body. "i'm sick! okay?! i'm so sick right now."

he didn't respond.

you sighed. "i didn't want you to catch anything or worry about it. i can handle it and i'll be back in no time."

he scoffed. "fuck that. i'm coming to get you."

"kat, really—?!"

"yes, really!" you heard faint explosions in the background. "seriously, thinking you can recover on your own when you can't even speak properly." he chuckled.

you wanted to retort, but your throat burned. hmph, you thought. you let yourself drift asleep, feeling comforted.

later, you woke up in his bed to the sound of clanking pots in the kitchen. brows furrowed, you groaned as you stretched, your body buzzing after you let yourself drop into the plush mattress once more.

bakugo peeked into the room. "you're up. good. you need to eat." with an apron on, he placed an assortment of dishes in front of you; soup, fruits, and some cough drops for later.

you sat up a little, startled when his hand pressed against your forehead.

"you have a fever." he shook his head, disappointed. "you probably made it a little worse, isolating yourself under all those sheets. you were overheated when i got you."

you pouted, taking a sip of water.

he craned his neck to meet your eyes, thinking you'd be relieved being home and in his care. you clearly had something on your mind. "baby..." he held your hand. "jus' tell me what's on your mind."

you met his eyes briefly before looking away. "i... didn't want you to miss work for this."

"this matters more than paperwork." he rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his face. he squeezed your hands. "just eat up and rest up. i'll handle everything else."

RODY

"y/n?"

"nope!" his little sister, lala, chirped. "it's me!"

during his last layover, he hadn't been getting much of a response from you. he trusted you with everything, but he was worried. now that he was back in otheon, he was ready to figure out what the hell was going on.

he chuckled at his sister. you must've given her your phone to play her favorite game. "hey, lala. where's y/n, do you know?"

"she's sleeping now." rody could hear her breathing as she pattered over to where he assumed you were laying down. "sleeping like a log."

"yeah?" rody responded, deep in thought. it wasn't like you to sleep while looking after his siblings, so he knew something was wrong. "what was she doing before she fell asleep?"

"uhhh... she made lunch for us?" lala sniffed. "i feel bad, though."

rody's eyebrows creased, tugging a suitcase behind him as he unconsciously walked faster. "why's that?"

"she's got a mask on, and she doesn't want us too close to her..." lala sighed. "and she's burning up."

rody put the pieces together. he raced to the carpark and zoomed on home, bursting through the door.

the loud noise startled you out of your slumber, sitting upright. the abrupt motion made you dizzy and you groaned. lala pat your shoulder, concerned.

rody dropped his suitcase to the ground, kneeling at your side. slipping off his gloves, he pressed his hand to the side of your neck.

"seriously, babe, you should've told me when you started feeling off." he frowned, bustling about to grab you the things you needed. "i could've left any time."

your eyes were glassy when you looked at him, and he felt his heart twisting. "m'sorry," you mumbled from behind the mask. "i didn't want to bother you..."

he scoffed and pulled the mask off your face, squishing your cheeks. he looked you square in the eye. though he was scolding you, he was so soft and gently. "you never bother me. all i think about is you, lala, and roro. i want to know everything you're feeling, no matter what."

you smiled, looking lopsided as your face was still in his hands. "okay."

he grinned and kissed you.

"ugh!" you recoiled, scooching away from him. "rody! you'll get sick!"

he crossed his arms, smiling. "and? we can be in that boat together."

you rolled your eyes. "oh my god."

"aw, don't be like that, baby." rody cuddled up next to you, peppering you with affection. "come on, let me take care of you."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[palskippah]

Hi! I give you this Stobotnik fankid I made a while ago :'y

She's Sofia --or Ivania or some other name ending in 'ia'-- Robotnik (coolest last name)

It's a compilation and also there's some Stone for practice bc I have no idea how to draw him pipipi Eggman is easier bc it's just his Sonic Boom design (I love it)

Some stuff about this universe under the cut!

(Btw if there's incongruencies is bc I can't make up my mind about the facts whwhw)

-Robotnik and Stone are married, very much married. Cartoon villains in love, I love that for them.

-["MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE-"] Mixing up the movie things and the whatever's going on in the Sonic Boom, so Robotnik was gone for eight months and when he's back she's already born.

>Also the drawing is a reference to Icarly's "Whatcha got there?" "A smoothie" but she was clearly asking about the ostrich Spencer brought with him.

>Alternatively, Eggman's there and they go through the journey together yippiee. Choosing names, making evil parenting plans and whatever, being their idiot selves.

(After celebrating because they're good news actually) "I want a boy or a girl-" (Eggman) "Yeah me too." (Stone) "-and we should name them a single, worth of remembering name! Like... Eggette for a girl and Eggson for a boy." "I'm not letting you name them any of that, doctor..." "Okay, then how about Beyonce for a girl and-"

>They wouldn't have kids (?? maybe? I don't really know, I only know sonic boom and the movie :'U)- but she was probably the 1% the birth control warns you about. Also, Stobotnik got a very active seggsual life, and I'm imagining she came to be from a quickie over the desk, why not.

>Helpful diagram of Eggman + Stone kissing and then = baby. They were in work hours.

-In the one where he comes back and the baby's already there, Eggman does a terrible job as a father the few first months, but then he gets the hang of it and it's not so bad.

>He gets projectile vomited on and he's immediately asking to get an abortion (the baby's already born) (he didn't give birth to her), Stone says no anyways.

>"Surprisingly, I'm a good father" he thinks one day and it's because he's still very much an orphan here with no frame of comparation or example aside from researching the matter.

-In the one where they wait for her together, he does all the research necessary in all those months, absolutely refusing in doing an average job in that matter, he's the great Ivo Robotnik c'mon. He excels at anything and he'll be a great father (jk he's terrified of fucking up).

-The Stobotnik family is an evil but loving family, like the bears in Puss in Boots whwh criminal family✨

-For the funny of it, Sonic and Eggman got a sort of relationship like in Sonic Boom, so sometime maybe our favorite boy, Tails and Knuckles had to look after their child.

-Also since Knuckles broke Stone's and Robotnik's hands with their handshake, let's have him handle the baby with the most careful grip ever, just to demonstrate that he didn't have to grab their hands that hard aksdjask

-She's a big fan of Sonic and friends (Sonic the Hedgehog, not Sonic Wachowski, the second guy hadn't done even half the things she admires him for, but no one has the heart to tell her when she's a kid). Has a bunch of merch and all the comics of Sonic the Hedgehog.

>When she's a teenager she proudly uses her Sonic backpack in the same way Deadpool uses his Hello Kitty backpack.

-BTW Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are all brothers and Maddie and Tom's kids bc that's the best idea ever made.

-ALSO I'm definitely gonna draw that scene where Knuckles was about to put the baby in the blender and Sonic shouts THE CHILI DOG NOT THE BABY. Some day, you'll see pipipi.

-SAGE was created for various reasons, to be her sister (since she wouldn't stop asking for one but neither Stone nor Robotnik were willing in raising another human kid, thanks very much), to protect her, and also to answer the tedious "why?" questions that neither father had the patience for (A+ parenting right there). Maybe she was used for the original purpose too idk (I don't know that sonic game where she debuts).

>The child's delighted about having a sister, then she grows up and SAGE doesn't, so she has a little sister.

>METAL SONIC TOO MAYBE? Perfect lil american family, the two happily married parents and their three kids (one human girl, an IA and a robot clone of their alien enemy).

-On her early months she was called Pebble, because she really was a mini Stone, Robotnik went along with it (bc he also looked at her and only saw his husband whw) until she was a little older and they started calling her by her name.

>Alternatively, since Eggman was gone, Stone waited for him to return in hopes of choosing together a name for their child, and Pebble worked as a placeholder since she was just a bebi.

>Alternatively alternatively, Eggman came up with the nickname. ROCK-ONNAISSANCE 🗣️ also yeah I know he was going crazy from the mushroom stuff, but he's not above making silly puns, he's a dad now and also he's naturally silly.

(NGL I really gotta make up my mind about how it all happened ajsdkad)

-She's a spoiled kid and also a little menace, unintentionally evil, she can't help it.

>Good-hearted too sometimes, she loves Sage and does her best to protect her back (it's not necessary but it's appreciated anyways).

-Robotnik calls himself 'daddy' way too much in the live-action movies to ignore it, so he's daddy and Stone's dad (dada when she was younger).

>"These are my daddies!" (points to what's clearly two villains -but also good fathers-)

-She has Robotnik's eyes but as big as Stone's. They're the lethal-est sad puppy eyes ever (they work wonders on both parents and other people) (both men got beautiful dark brown eyes with visible eyelashes fight me).

>Look at Eggman's silly eyelashes:

>Also, you know that picture of Lee Majdoub with the beautiful everything? I think he was wearing eyeliner so my Stone wears eyeliner too in contrast to Eggman's dark circles under his eyes JDJS😭

-She's the five-year-old that made Sonic fear them because 'they can be so cruel when they sense weakness' (she was brutally honest as any young kid is).

-Stone and Robotnik got Gomez and Morticia Addams kinda parenting. They see their child beating up someone and they're like:

"What did we do wrong?" (Stone while shaking his head in disappointment) "I know... she lacks resourcefulness." (Eggman) "Exactly, there's her baseball bat right there, why doesn't she use it?"

-Remember that Shadow said in a game that he wouldn't mind taking a candy from a baby? (fandub I think but still) This comes in handy when neither Tails, Sonic or Knuckles want to upset the kid (so Shadow does it instead).

-She plays sports too because she got too much energy. In each of them she loses her patience. She grabs the football and hauls it at the nearest team member, she throws her baseball bat to the ground and starts beating up whoever threw the ball that she missed, she stomps in frustration if she loses, she's great at dodgeball (sends her classmates to the infirmary).

-Throws tantrums and stuff and overall's an annoying kid if she's upset. Eggman's like UGH WHY'S SHE LIKE THIS?? and Stone's like Because of you, doctor (terrible temperament runs in the family and also Robotnik just spoiled her too much).

-I'm kinda dressing her up in the clothes that existed in my mind that supposedly Eggman wore (the weird dress-like jacket with the big zipper in the middle). Under her jacket there's a dress in the same pattern as the original Eggman's clothes, also she wears a baby onesie like that too.

-When she's older she's definitely proud of her fathers, but she doesn't appreciate the rumors that she's prone to go power-crazy like Robotnik did. Especially because it may be true, but what do they know.

-For the irony, she can't stand drinking coffee, but loves the smell of it because it reminds her of home (omg).

-THEY HAVE A PET CAT like I read in some fics and her name is Robot and she's a lil shit and also grumpy like Robotnik.

>Maybe she brings her alive mice to experiment on all sort of stuff (like Pávlov and his dogs and the guy Skinner with his mice and cats (??))

-She gets to hang out with Sonic and friends under the condition of annoying him as much as possible. So, she complies. (She loves Sonic the Hedgehog, but she loves making her fathers happy more).

-Very smart kid but not to the level of Tails or Robotnik at that age, she's just got very good memory and learning skills and knows a lot of stuff ever since she was a little kid. More like a Matilda-kinda intelligence.

-She's a scientist when she grows up too but the kind that makes evil potions and serums and stuff aksjdk probably (chemistry things? biochem idk). She can make silly little robots for the fun of it but it's not her passion, unlike Robotnik and Stone's. PROBABLY. I'm still deciding.

-BTW LOOK (it says 'carefully crafted ploy to distract space porcupines')

>While Eggman's there with the baby and Sonic in front of him going AWWW BABY BOO and making her laugh, Stone is sneaking up on him holding a chair above his head to knock him out.

THAT'S IT THANKS FOR READING ✨✨

[churipu]

Could you do a reaction of jjk men reacting to you not wanting to celebrate your birthday because it's too much work? Thank you ♥️♥️

JJK MEN + YOU NOT WANTING TO CELEBRATE YOUR BDAY

featuring. geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. none

note. hello nonnie :D i've never actually thought of this omg, but i'm a little ecstatic to write this bcs as a person who has a love-hate with celebrating birthdays, i know how it feels sometimes. anyways, i hope you like this nonnie :(

GETO SUGURU. geto never really liked party anyways, and during your first year together, the male asks you if you preferred private birthdays where it's just the two of you or a big birthday with everyone in it — so he could take note in the future, because the male took it into consideration that if you didn't like big and loud parties, and then he makes one for you; it would be uncomfortable for your side (when it's supposed to be the day you celebrate your birth).

"i don't like big parties, 's too much work to do." you answered him with a small smile.

and ever since then, he's kept in mind to never make big parties for you — both of your birthdays are celebrated only between you both. you would do it for him, and he'd do it for you.

just a small cake, a present, and the two of you. he needed nothing else but to be with you, it's the picture perfect birthday for him. and you thought so too.

"can we eat cake now?" you asked him, eyes gleaming.

geto chuckles and he took it as a job to cut you one — watching you eat the slice happily before cutting another slice for you, to which you always accept.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami has always knew that you loathed parties — from the way you act, and how you always try to stay away from parties or get-goings with a lot of people. and so when your first birthday with him as your boyfriend came around the corner, he planned a dinner for the both of you.

nanami bought a bouquet of flowers with your favorite flowers, an extra present (that he will have to find by observing and remembering about the things you have ever said to him), a cake, and princess treatment (not that he ever stops doing it anyways).

"happy birthday," he mumbles into your hair, pulling you closer and planting a kiss to your lips sloppily.

"thank you, kento." you giggled lightly, leaning your face into his shoulder, resting your head there for a bit.

you never question him about how he knows you don't like parties, and just kind of roll with it. because you loved it, people in the past, whether it being your friends or your parents — sometimes would throw big parties for you, and you never ended up enjoying your birthday at all. even if it was celebrated.

but with nanami? you've always managed to enjoy every birthday.

"here," he hands you a small velvet colored box, "i bought you something," he grabs your hand before opening the small box with one hand.

it was a silver colored ring, "kento," you call out to him, "that costs...a lot."

"i love you." he replies, sliding the ring into your finger — a small smile on his face. he brings your hand onto his lips, kissing it softly.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. toji never thought of throwing parties in the first place anyways — he hates parties with random people all around. when your first birthday comes up, he got you a small cake and a present, that was about it really.

"'m sorry, it's all i got." he mumbles out, as much as he hates apologizing; at that moment he actually felt like a bad boyfriend to you — because it was your birthday, it didn't matter what he doesn't like, what if you liked big birthday parties?

"'ts okay, baby. i don't like parties, so this is perfect." you tell him with a small smile, "parties are too much work anyways."

god, watch him fall even harder for you after.

believe me when i said he actually tries to sing out the happy birthday song to you, but never make it to the end because he felt shy to do it so he always stops in the middle.

but just the thought of him doing that was enough for you, it's always a perfect birthday with him, really. just the two of you, having a little bit of cake before going out to eat dinner and then just hanging out with each other.

what more could you ask for?

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[lovelyhan]

Okay, you still have a spot. Great. I thought they'd be filled so, I didn't send anything lmao. Insomnia has its perks.

This is deeply self-indulgent and I'd love more Hao from you. So, hear me out, Minghao with a breeding kink. I feel like it doesn't get enough attention especially given how much that man gravitates towards babies lol. Like he and Reader visit Cheol's and see him with his new baby and, Hao's like oh, wait a minute. I think this is making me feel some type of way.

— terrified ⟢

minghao has a knack for keeping the things you tell him in mind. from your favorite brand of wine to how the idea of bearing children terrifies you—he remembers all of it. so your husband is in a bit of a crisis when he realizes that this newfound desire to start a family kind of clashes with something you trusted him to respect.

★ FEATURING; minghao x f!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 4.4k words

★ TAGS; idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ WARNINGS; mentions of pregnancy and childbirth but nothing too graphic

★ NOTES; i scheduled to post this when it hit exactly 12 midnight in rj's timezone just in time for her birthday :> (pls look away if i got the schedule wrong,,,) i'm not really back yet bcs this is a queued post, but happy birthday, beloved. i love you more than i can say directly, so i decided to just write a fic for you instead! hopefully, i can come back and torment you with every other seventeen member BUT cheol soon :3c

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, mating press, hao is just really feral in this yk

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz

★ MINGHAO TAGLIST; @haoxiaoba - @jeonride - @coffeestay - @hyvnae

In the height of his career as an idol, Xu Minghao filmed a certain piece of content where he was asked a normal question to which he responded with a slightly controversial answer.

"How many kids do you want in the future?"

"Oh, It's not me who'll give birth, so I can't be the one to decide."

It's a response that made waves on the Internet during the week the video was first posted—a reaction from both fans and casual netizens alike that Minghao definitely did not anticipate that he would receive when they packed up the set several months prior.

It's pretty much the logical answer, isn't it? Sure, he'd love to have kids someday, but the quantity isn't something he should decide on without his non-existent partner's input.

Minghao learns further down the road, when he finally meets and eventually gets together with you, that the number of children isn't the only thing that a couple should mutually agree on.

"I don't really want to have kids..."

You tell him this during a spontaneous date he deigned to take you out on. He just came back from a tour packed with a long list of stops and even if he should probably catch up on some sleep, he opted to have a picnic with you at the park because of how much he missed you.

Your cheeks are stuffed with a few bites of pie, thoughtfully chewing as you wait for Minghao's response to your sudden confession. If he didn't know you as well as he does, he wouldn't have sensed the waves of anxiety rolling off of you in waves—as if you're waiting for him to get mad at you for simply being honest.

Mingao heaves a quiet sigh before he pulls you into his chest—a tiny squeak caught in your throat after swallowing your food.

"Hey, that doesn't make me love you any less," he murmurs, pressing his lips on top of your head. "I know bearing children can be terrifying and painful, so I completely understand."

For a moment, your brow dips, a soft frown tugging at your lips. "I-It's not that I'm terrified... Okay, maybe a little. But—"

Minghao promptly silences your protests with a firm kiss on your lips—one that you find yourself easily melting into given the time and distance that's separated you until this moment. He smiles against your mouth, glad that you can be honest with him about things like this.

"No buts, if you don't want to have kids, that's alright," he murmurs before pulling away. "Maybe we can just get a dog. You're already close with Mingyu, aren't you?"

That makes you snicker. "You're so mean."

It's a brief exchange that Minghao doesn't really think about again for several years. After all, his career as an idol was at an all-time high. As much as he wants to settle down with you and start the next phase of his life, he's certain that he shouldn't step out of the limelight just yet.

But it doesn't take long for time to catch up with him.

One by one, his brothers are off to fulfill their mandatory service and the group's activities are at a momentary standstill. Those who were left behind go their separate ways for a while—Joshua expanding his solo promotions in the US and Jun taking up more brand sponsorships in China.

Minghao chose to stay in Seoul mostly for your sake, and the fact that this city is the only common ground between him and the rest of the boys. When Vernon and Seungkwan enlisted together, it was around the time that Seungcheol and Jeonghan came back with overgrown buzzcuts, while Joshua landed in Incheon for the first time in two years.

It was also the time when you and Minghao got married.

The event was celebrated among close friends and family with only a brief news article about the marriage of SEVENTEEN's The8 allowed by the company to circulate for a while. They did a good job at keeping things hush hush, and Minghao thinks it's only because it's been more than a decade since his debut that they're being so lenient.

But even if they weren't, nothing would stop Xu Minghao from making you his wife either way.

It takes a few more years for all thirteen of them to get back together again, but when they do, the first thing that Seungcheol does is invite everybody to his daughter's first birthday.

Minghao has met baby Suri a handful of times in the past. Seungcheol's wife visits them at the company from time to time, wheeling Suri's stroller into the practice room as her uncles all fawn over her until she's crying. For some reason, the only people the infant seems to tolerate are Jun and Seokmin.

It's pretty much the same scene during the party. Seokmin and Jun are the only ones allowed within a one-meter radius from Seungcheol's baby girl to prevent an incurable crying episode in the middle of the celebration. Soonyoung was not happy with the fact that he can't personally give Suri the little tiger plush he got for her, but Minghao thinks it's for the best.

But then, as everyone was finishing up with dinner, he saw you walk up to Seungcheol's wife with a familiar sparkle in your eyes. You're staring at Suri who's all dressed up for her party with a look of endearment—nearly gushing with how animatedly you're speaking with her mother.

Minghao doesn't think much of it. You and her have always gotten along for as long as he can remember.

What does catch him completely off-guard, however, is the fact that Suri is being handed into your arms and you let it all happen without much of a fuss.

Chan was in the middle of telling him about this martial arts move that he'd wanted to choreograph into a dance but as much as he wants to give the younger man advice, his gaze is completely glued to the sight of you with Suri in cradled against your chest.

It's one thing to see a woman holding a baby. It's another to see his wife do the same thing.

"Hao, look!" You quickly call him over when you catch his eyes in the crowd. "Suri thinks I'm worthy! It's been five minutes since her mom handed her over and she's still not crying."

The sight is so adorable that Minghao abruptly excuses himself from his conversation with Chan to rush towards you with clipped strides. His heart thunders inside his chest as you visibly dote on Seungcheol's daughter, and he isn't sure if he wants to give the feeling a name.

It eventually fades into a barely there throb in his chest when he drives back home for the evening. You quickly fill the silence with your attempts at looking at some properties in this newly opened residential area near the freeway and as always, your husband lends a willing ear.

"It's a little far from your company building, but it's much more spacious than our apartment right now," you chuckle, face alight with the glow of your screen as you scroll through the property's details on your phone.

Minghao hums before pulling over at a red light. "Hm? Isn't our place alright as it is? Why would we need the extra space?"

He half-expected you to answer with something along the lines of, so I can have more space to keep my book collection in or so you can have enough room to practice at home if you want to.

But all you do is let out an uneasy laugh, locking your phone before depositing it in the cupholder on the middle console.

"Y-Yeah, you're right. That was a bit silly of me."

The next time Minghao unwittingly makes the connection with you and the prospect of having kids is when Seungkwan's nephews are in Seoul for a couple of weeks.

While he and his sister are off to run errands every now and again, they typically ask Jun to watch over the kids because out of all the members, he's definitely the only one who can be trusted around children. Even more than those who are actual fathers.

But it just so happens that Jun is all the way in Shanghai to shoot for a historical drama, and for some reason, Seungkwan thought it would be a good idea to drop his nephews off at Minghao's doorstep.

"You're pretty decent with kids and your wife can take care of anything," Seungkwan praises while he ushers four year-old Hanjun into the room and eight month-old Jiren into your arms. "We'll be back for them after lunch!"

It's just as Seungkwan said though: Minghao is pretty decent with kids and you can take care of anything.

While waiting for lunch to cook in the kitchen, you both do your part in entertaining the children—Minghao pointing out different shapes and animals in the picture book from Hanjun's backpack while you quietly feed Jiren the baby formula that Seungkwan's sister prepared in advance.

So distracted with the sight of your soft gaze transfixed on the baby in your arms, Minghao barely notices it when the soup he's prepared starts to overflow from the pot. You scold him for being so distracted before he shuffles into the kitchen with his tail between his legs.

As he salvages what's left of the soup, Minghao tries to pull himself together. Sure, it's been a few years since you two tied the knot, but you made it clear years ago that children wasn't on the table when it comes to the two of you.

It's something that you both agreed on even before marriage, and Minghao isn't about to break your trust by saying he suddenly wants kids all because seeing them in your arms makes his brain short-circuit. He has more tact than that.

"Is it just me or are you acting a little weird?"

For some reason, you choose later that evening to corner him in the quiet of your bedroom. Minghao was just getting ready to sleep when you turned to face him with a frown.

"Weird how?" he wonders, praying that you wouldn't single him out like you probably will.

"I don't know, you were looking at me funny when I was giving Jiren his formula," you point out. "You only do that when you want something from me."

Your words make him sigh. Of course his wife would catch onto every nuance of his actions—even from his stare alone.

"And what do you think it is that I want?"

"Xu Minghao, we're already married. Cut the games and just tell me what's on your mind."

God, he really couldn't love you any more than he does now.

It takes several minutes, but you and your husband eventually migrate to the living room—cups of hot chocolate in hand as you patiently wait for Minghao to open up about something he's been keeping to himself for a while now.

He's rightfully nervous—hands clammy around the ceramic of the mug that matches yours. It's Game of Thrones-themed with a dragon's neck acting as a handle. You kept insisting at the souvenir shop that its selling point was the unique design, but Minghao was pretty sure you were excited by the fact that the printed text changes color depending on the drink's temperature.

With that memory suddenly drifting into his mind, the tension ebbs from his shoulders. Though he tends to forget, you're the last person who'll condemn him for what he's about to say to you.

"I've been thinking of starting a family with you," he admits—hitting his point straight to the roots. "But... I always brushed it aside because I know how you feel about kids. I don't want to force you into something you don't want."

It's in times like this where silence is more deafening than actual noise. It rings in Minghao's ears as you watch the steam rise from your mug and your husband lets himself stew in his anticipation, wondering how you'll choose to respond to his honesty.

Will you laugh at him? Will you be angry with him? It's a subject that the two of you rarely broach with each other, so he isn't quite sure how to handle whatever reaction you'll grace him with.

What Minghao never would've expected, however, is for you to crack him a relieved smile.

"Me? I thought you didn't want kids because having one would be detrimental to your career," you chuckle, taking the first few sips from your hot chocolate. "And you always kinda shrugged it off whenever I tried to ease the topic into the conversation."

"I did?" Your husband scowls. "When did I do that?"

"After Suri's birthday party? When I was showing you a couple of new houses?"

Oh. Oh.

"Shit," Minghao mutters, embarrassed. "I almost forgot about that. I'm sorry, love. It didn't occur to me because you said that you didn't want to have kids—"

"One time," you interject with a groan. "That was one time, Hao. God, can't a woman change her mind about wanting kids with her husband?"

He blinks. "But you said you'd be terrified."

"No, you said I'd be terrified. As an educated guess and to some extent, you're right. But it's not the having-a-kid part or the childbirth part that terrifies me, Hao." You let yourself breathe for a couple of seconds and it comes out shaky. Minghao has to resist the urge to reach out to embrace you.

"What terrifies me is becoming a mother."

The silence of the living room thickens when you say the words and Minghao feels his chest flutter with that same feeling from the first time he saw you cradling Seungcheol's daughter in your arms. Despite the questions swimming inside his head, your husband keeps his silence and lets you continue.

"Like, yeah, the pregnancy is going to be hell and god knows whether I'll even be alive after giving birth, but..." You hesitate, refusing to meet Minghao's eyes for reasons that elude him.

"Raising a child so they would grow up to become a good person is even more daunting to me... What if I accidentally teach them something wrong? What if they end up hating me because I can't keep up with whatever trends kids would come up with in a few years? What if they love you more than they love me?"

Minghao laughs airily. "Is that last part really a necessary measure?"

"It is," you insist before breathing out a laugh of your own. "Urgh, you get the point! It's just that... I'm not against having kids, but the responsibility that comes with raising one overwhelms me whenever I think about it."

"You know you're not in it alone, right? I'm your husband. Of course I'll be here to support you however I can," Minghao sighs before finishing the rest of his drink. "Whether you want kids or not, I'll go with either choice because I want what you want, yeah?"

"Yeah. I do know that. I think I've always known, but at the same time, I didn't want to tie you down," you murmur, tracing the handle of your mug with a small pout. "If we have a kid together, they might take up the time meant for your schedules. I never want to burden you like that..."

Your husband sets down his mug on the coffee table, carding his fingers through his hair with a disbelieving sigh. You were starting to fear that you might've annoyed him by accident, but when Minghao leans closer so that your eyes are leveled, you realize that is far from the case.

"Baby, our wedding rings are literally tattoos," he reminds you while reaching for your hand—pressing the inked fingers together. "I'm as tied down as I can be and you've never heard a peep out of me after all this time, yeah? So don't you ever think you or our future kids would be burdens to me."

Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Kids? Plural?"

"Hey, like I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, you want what I want," you interrupt with a roll of your eyes. "I get it Hao, you're a gentleman. But what if I told you I want you to fuck me on this couch right now and give me your kids?"

The wording is so crass that it could only be seen as a joke, except the reaction it incites from Minghao is leagues more intense than a mere joke would. The mental image injects a rush of corrosive want straight into his bloodstream and Minghao swears it makes him a little lightheaded.

Your husband lets out a shuddering sigh. quickly lunging after you to pluck the mug out of your grasp and safely place it on top of the coffee table. When you look up at him so prettily as he cages you on the couch, the sight makes his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Then I want that, too."

Logically speaking, you and Minghao can't just flip the switch and go into full babymaking mode after a heartfelt conversation and a bunch of impulsive decisions.

For one, you were still on birth control. It would take some time to wean yourself off it and you'd have to ask your doctor if it was safe to stop taking the pills at this point in your life.

Next was that Minghao and the rest of the guys are going to be preoccupied with their latest album—one where all thirteen men are back together after years of being separated. It'll go on for a couple of months and maybe a year if he's going to take their tour schedules into account.

And because he doesn't want to be absent in any milestone during your hypothesized child's life, you and your husband mutually decided not to actively try for a kid just yet.

But that doesn't mean you can't pretend.

"Fuck, baby, your cunt's gripping me so tight," Minghao groans, nearly hissing as he slides his cock against the velvety heat of your walls. "You want my load in you, pretty? You want to me to pump you full until it's dripping out of your pretty pussy?"

With coherence having long left your mind, you arch your back even higher as your husband continues to plough you into the mattress. "Y-Yes, yes yes! Hao, feels s-so fucking good!"

He chortles quietly and even with your cheek pressed against the sheets, you can still picture the smirk plastered on his face. "Pretty baby's in love with my cock. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"More," you whimper, the muscles of your pussy tightening around his length as he plunges in and out of your sopping entrance. "W-Want more, Hao. Need you to fuck me harder..."

Your husband is quick to comply with your wishes, gathering your hair with one hand while keeping your hips in place with the other. Minghao slams his hips brutally against yours, making stars dance in the seams of your vision as the head of his fat cock bullies its way into your leaking hole.

He's so deep, you can feel him prying your cervix open with a promise that you'll be filled to the brim if you behave tonight. And with all those years of being a professional dancer under his belt, it's no surprise that he's got enough stamina to wreck you more times than you can handle.

The first orgasm blindsides you completely. He'd just been whispering both sweet and filthy nothings into your ear when it washes over you like a tidal wave—inevitable, inescapable.

(Doing so fucking good for me, love. Taking my cock like a good, good wife. You'll take my cum just as well, won't you? Keep it inside so it'll take and you'll be swollen with my child. Then everybody will know you're mine.)

The second time it happens is mere seconds after Minghao's own orgasm. His thrusts have started to lose their practiced cadence and even if you've been in this situation countless times before, the euphoria that sings in your veins makes it feel like the first time all over again.

Minghao's cock twitches before his cum spurts in thick ropes inside your tight cunt—filling you with a warm sensation that has you biting down his neck to stifle your moans. The motion of his hips slows to a crawl as Minghao feels you clamp down on his length. Your pussy gushes around him with a delicious grip that brings him dangerously close to another orgasm with how good you feel around him.

"Fuck, baby," he swears, voice still hoarse with need despite the fact that he's fucking you into overflowing. "I love you. There's no one else I'd want to have a family with."

"T-There better not be," you say cheekily before Minghao is flipping you around so that you're lying on your back. The sensation of his cum dripping out of your ruined pussy makes your skin tingle with excitement, and the fact that his ravenous gaze is trained on your body isn't lost on you.

"Be a good wife for me and hold your thighs up," he whispers lowly and it takes you mere seconds to comply. "That's my girl."

You preen at his praise—no matter how pathetic it would make you seem. After all, if there's anyone who get reduced you into a cockdrunk mess, it's most certainly your husband.

Minghao doesn't waste any more time, he pumps his cock into full hardness for a few moments—refractory period be damned—before gliding the head of his cock against your slit. Your thighs twitch every time be brushes against your clit, making you cry out with desperation as he gloats at your misery.

"Minghao," you beg, trying your best to hold your thighs up just like he asked all while he's taking his sweet time admiring your pussy. "Fuck me more. Want you to fill me up even more."

"Needy little thing," he chuckles. "You want my kids that badly? If I fuck you too much, you might actually get pregnant, love."

"Don't care," you practically sob. "I want it. I want you. All of you—even your kids."

Fuck. He really, really fucking loves you.

Minghao needs little encouragement after that, gripping his cock tightly as he guides himself back inside you.

The new position makes it easier for your husband to pound into you—the weight of his thrusts pressing you into the bed with enough intensity to make the wooden enforcements of your bed groan from the effort he's exerting. He splits you open on his cock, spreading your folded thighs as far as he can as he drills inside of you with the promise of another load.

"So pretty and pliant for me," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your nose all while the squelch of your cunt with each pass of his cock echoes in the bedroom. "My perfect wife. You'll let me breed this pussy once all's said and done, won't you?"

You nod all too eagerly. "Yes, Hao! I'll let you use my pussy however you want. Just please make me come again!"

"So demanding," your husband sighs with a wicked smile as one of his hands trails between your legs. "Hold those thighs nice and open for me, love. You'll feel even better soon."

"W-Wait, I—"

Your protests quickly melt into a hiss of pleasure when Minghao applies ample pressure on your clit—lathering his fingers with your slick before tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub.

He knows you so well, been with you for so long, that Minghao already knows the ins and outs of your body. Your husband claims that making you come undone with his own fingers is a practiced art and that he'll never forget about it until the day he does.

So it's no surprise how quickly Minghao manages to make you unravel at the seams when he couples his intense thrusts with the added stimulus to your clit. You're creaming around his cock in no time—muffling your cries in the crook of your lover's neck as he fucks into you with the intention of filling you up even more.

"I love you," Minghao rasps as he tucks your head beneath his chin, pinpointing the height of his own pleasure. "I'll want no one else but you, baby. No one."

Shakily, through a haze of delirium, you manage to say, "I-I love you too, Hao. I'll always be yours as long as—f-fuck—you'll always be mine."

You twitch violently beneath the weight of Minghao's body and the sight of you so fucked dumb on his cock eventually pushes him over the edge. Your husband comes with a sharp breath, his white hot cum gushing into your pussy until it drips onto the sheets.

It's only when you've come down from that post-coital high that you realize Minghao is looking at you as if you hung up all the stars in the sky. You respond with a weak smack against his chest.

"Don't look at me like that," you grumble weakly. "I might think you're in love with me."

"Y/N, we're already married."

"I don't see how that's a problem."

As Minghao does the honors of cleaning you up after roughing you up all evening, you quickly realize that, really, there's no reason to be terrified at all.

Not when your husband will be by your side every step of the way.

⟢ end notes: i wrote this in a haze so if there are any technical writing errors, i implore you to just ignore them for my sake <3 happy birthday again to my soulmate, rj! i hope you enjoy your day to the fullest and i also hope you like this gift i wrote for you hehe ^\\\^ like hao to the reader, i'll always be w you every step of the way (i'm just a lil busy rn, so i hope you forgive me !!)

[wandagcre]

Hii! How you doing?

I just read your drabble about mob!Sam reaction to reader asking for a divorce.

Could you do one were reader thinks the only way of getting away from Sam is being dead so she tries to k!lol herself and Sam finds her and she gets really scare because she might lose the love of her life, so after that she does everything to be a better wife for reader

if i break | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob!Boss Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You didn't know how much those four words would affect the following days for you and Sam. With your deteriorating mental state, Sam's punishment, and out of control aggressiveness, you're backed up in the corner, completely stuck.

WARNING: making out, suggestive content, groping, spanking, mild torture, conditioning, self-harm, suicide attempt Words: 2.5k Note: you can read this as a stand-alone bc it's an alternative scenario to the drive you mad series but those previous parts can give u better context! reminder to not actually put yourselves in this situation guys this is all (an unhealthy) fantasy

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

One would say you shouldn't be ungrateful—a roof over your head, jewelry and clothing that could solve a block's poor demise instantly, and a food to eat on your plate is the least of your worries. There's acres of space, just for you and your wife.

Sam provides everything imaginable to your heart's desire.

Yet, you feel yourself wither each day.

You've been punished by Sam that very day, when you courageously asked her for a divorce. You felt ridiculed for a short and humerous answer of the woman whom you've loved for a while. But even that couldn't sustain the foundation you built with Sam alone.

That same night, you found yourself being spanked and manhandled by the woman.

You've overheard of her tone and voice, the calculation in her cruel words  — how it roared affirmative and certain to follow through as she planned despite the protests by some of her inner circle, sometimes including her own right hand and sister, Tara, made your wife sound as though she's detached from humanity.

You regret learning an ounce from that day. You couldn't believe how you let yourself be in this sick charade, laying down beside this woman whom you once adored.

So, when Sam came home as usual, with her loosened tie and undone earrings, the thick tension resurfaced once again.

But she deeply craved your touch much as you do.

Although you obliged, knowing where it was headed from the start, you were blinded. After all there was an undeniable spark that you knew wouldn't easily go away with Sam's affection and the skill she had to pleasure you. You straddled Sam as your thumb caressed her baby hair, her soft kneading on your ass that only grew rough and sliding over your shorts to feel it bare as her kisses became needy and almost bruising.

What you didn't know was how Sam felt you were giving in as though it was a parting gift to her. The thought riled her up to an increasing madness.

She flipped you over, hovering beneath you and pushed your head against the soft mattress. It made you yelp at the force she exuded.

"I fought so hard to have you, amor!" Sam's frustrated voice roared in the master's bedroom, tears welling up your eyes. "What makes you think I'll let you get away this time? Maybe you're not bright enough if you think I would sign divorce papers from you," she angrily spat.

You felt so small. It was beyond suffocating as Sam and the way her fingers dug in your scalp as she pressed you down while within her grasp felt nothing more but terrifying.

"I-I don't feel good. Not for a while now, Sam." You admit, words slurring in your contorted mouth.

Sam gave you a mocking grin. "And I didn't wish to be this rough on you, sweetheart. But you've left me with no choice,"

She gave you a good spanking until the flesh of your ass was tender and stinging. By the end of it, you were sniffling and in tears. Sam didn't bother putting back your underwear, it was nothing but humiliating. She swiftly carries your weight like you're featherlight, your body slung over her shoulder. Your vision is upside down and you began to wail in protest, cold sweat ran through your body.

You didn't trust how Sam was handling you — this woman that stood before you didn't hold remorse nor familiarity and warmth you knew. Sam was akin to that first night she had you handcuffed. True enough, it was history repeating itself as you found yourself dropped in a smaller bed, enough to fit one, worst was how bits of it felt like an exposed space, sealing your deal in this prison-like room.

It was dowright ridiculous.

Sam firmly held you by the wrist, against the metal headboard. The clanking was continuous, you look up through your blurry vision, tears not stopping, you're cuffed.

"We go by a reward system here, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll keep you fed. That is if — a big if — you won't lash out. All you have to say is you won't bring up a silly thing as divorce ever again." Sam patted your cheek, "Of course, you need to prove it by actions too. You're monitored. I'll be the judge of that." She motions over the camera at the corner of the room.

You wipe your nose, sniffling. "Isn't this too over the top?"

"Better vicinity, is all I'm going to say." Sam clicks her tongue, her body above you and one of her hands intimately placed on your bare stomach where your night gown slightly ridden up.

You had no phone inside, even the use of television was needed to be earned. Naturally, the almost empty space made you think a lot. It was few hours before you were freed from the cuffs.

It brought more realization that you were being isolated, completely tucked away from the existing relationships you've built with your friends. It happened slow and deliberate, that you found yourself hopeless to Sam's doings. Maybe she was even behind the unjustified killings from years ago, at your little town. Hell, maybe you were in denial all these time that Sam conjured on eliminating your mother figure from work, too.

You wouldn't be surprised anymore but the thought makes you retch.

The first few days was tough. You cried until you became exhausted. Soon it was futile and useless. You tried protesting by not eating at all, wondering what starvation will bring, only to be intervened by Sam herself. She kept you fed and bathed you, that you felt disgusted. Sam wasn't worthy to see your vulnerable state.

Sometimes, you rebelled against the trained women she sent in — at times where Sam couldn't make an exception to personally accommodate you. They let you angrily punch them, never fighting back, which made you smaller and invisible. These trained guards were obligated to report to Sam and so your punishment was still made.

You even tried memorizing the room. Attempting to knock at the walls to see if it had a weak spot, scanning as much as you can. Albeit, the windows itself were also useless. You should have known better that Sam would kept it close and bulletproof.

The depravation soon kicked in. You're conditioned at the reward she gave you that even a simple few hours of watching television made you a little bit at ease. Anything that came from outside world, you soaked it up. Nonetheless, you were treated like a pet.

But it didn't change your state, life still being sucked out of your very body.

One night, Sam was scrubbing your back clean as you sat at the bathtub. It was filled with silence, with occasional comments from Sam from the outside. She acted like everything was normal.

"Why are you doing this?" Was all you could say. You were tired.

The silence covered you two until you were in your towel, ready to dry off.

"This," Her index finger was in the middle of your chest. "Does not only beat for you, but a part of me as well." Sam continued, her voice tenuous and low. "You didn't know how your existence motivated me to survive that hell hole that my father sent me into. I need you back. I need my wife back. Isn't that all enough?"

"But what part of me do you need? Should I be stuck in that submissive and clueless, attending to your needs? Or did you want the girl that you left all those years?" You bravely confronted Sam, who was taken aback at your words.

At the end, you wouldn't take it all back. You wanted her to know—to fully simmer those thoughts.

You wanted to feel something and to end it all at the same time.

Sam had overlooked and underestimated your creativity. The cheap toilet was one of the things that was left unfinished for this spare room and it only took you to carry out its heavy lid, smashing the ceramic cover in pieces.

All you registered was the sharp piece against your soft skin, your knees that trembled and thudded against the hard floor. You feel your consciousness slipping, the fluttering of your eyes slow and uncontrable. Hopefully, to no return, you thought.

It was a blur, dreamless state. You were at peace for a while.

Though you had a small inkling that it won't last for long, you feel your mind waking up to consciousness. Your ears register the beeping of the electrocardiogram served as a white noise and your breathing sounded like it was contained. Opening your eyes, you see that you're tubed and one of your arms were infused with IV. You feel a gentle hold, on your unharmed forearm by Sam herself. She looked out of place, wearing your favorite cardigan as she slept soundly beside you.

When you moved and groaned, it stirred Sam to consciousness as well. You feel the fear brewing but it long vanished when your wife looked nothing but in complete distraught with tears spilling from her exhausted brown eyes — unlike you've ever seen before — temporarily stripped away from her cruelty and madness.

She held tighter on your forearm, but it was out of desperation and concern more than anything.

"You asked me and I never answered that day," Sam continued to sob. You see her physically restraining to hold all of you that it started to pain you. "I can't—I can never imagine being that stupid again. It could have been my last words and you suffered enough from me,"

"Sam... I could have asked better—" You protest as clarity hit you, but Sam's quivering lips halted you.

Your wife strongly shook her head in disagreement. "Nonsense. Let me finish, please. It was entirely my fault and mine alone for putting you in this situation and I never made myself much of safe space for you. But all I needed was everything you can offer. All of you, mi amor. I don't care if it was the girl I left, the one who changed, all I know is that I cannot do this life without you," She moves to bring your palm over her cheek. You feel Sam's fraught, her need to feel that you are tangible and beside her.

For a moment your anger and frustration with her had faded. It was a day full of crying, nonetheless.

Recovery was surprisingly better than you expected with Sam's improved presence around you. She was downright attentive to your needs, more than ever before. You need to pee? Sam was right by the door. You wanted to read or watch a movie? Sam could not care any less, she'll do work beside you, too. Most of the time, your wife would watch them with you, surprisingly even if she hates the genre. Were you craving for a specific food? Sam will go and get it for you.

You even joked that you wanted a foot massage but Sam took it seriously, immediately went to give you one.

"You know I'm not pregnant right?" You humorously told her. The way her head spun to your direction, flustered, had you uncontrollably smile.

Sam was taken aback. "W-What?"

"Don't you have work to do, whatever it is?"

"No. I can do them remotely, it's always been a flexible thing." I have my priorities sorted out much better now." Sam casually says. You've never seen her this carefree and it hit a pang of warmth and familiarity more than ever.

You nodded slowly. "Alright. But, can you stop acting like I'm fragile? I don't... I haven't thought of doing anything since then." The playfulness quickly faded from you.

You looked away and cannot help but glance over the healing wound on your forearm. You busied yourself with the film playing on screen. Sam opens her hand that was adjacent to your side, you don't fight the invitation and instead you make the move to hold it.

"I know you're not, mi amor. It's not that, it's just—" Sam sighed, though her eyes never left yours. "I don't want to spend remaining of my time with you by fighting or making you suffer ever again, even by the slightest just because I am greedy when it comes to you, amor. I want to make better memories, whether you choose to stay or not."

You don't reply and Sam was unchanging. All you knew is how it lifted a great weight on your shoulder.

You've never returned to the room where she kept you nor passed by the area. Interestingly enough, it was under construction again.

Days later, Sam remained at home. She didn't fail with the flowers and her gifts increasingly became thoughtful. It was between a new book of the genre you wanted, it could've been a trip to a place you mentioned. The most surprising so far was her first attempt of doing a crochet tulips for you.

It was a better sense of direction for the two of you. Sure you had needs, and the sexual tension and libido may have kicked in, but it felt like you were in a courting phase. It annoyed you sometimes, how your wife pranced in almost nothing and you were just to stare.

Though if you asked, Sam wouldn't hesitate to tell you—whether it was work, or something personal you've always been too shy or afraid to do so from the past. If you asked to burn the world, Sam would've handed you the gas and the lighter.

That's why you were taken aback during a particular rainy day, you perked up at the sound of the door and saw Sam who came back with nervous smile on her face and a new material on her other hand. She handed you a manila envelope and followed you as you took it and sat on one of the chairs at the dining area.

You curiously took it and opened it, your throat quickly dried, loss at words as you saw that it was the divorce papers you've been asking for. It made you suddenly stand up straight.

"It's only a choice up to you now. No dirty games from me, I swear on it." Sam made a sign of oath. You looked at her with the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "If you want, I can send you best of my men, back to your town for extra measure. Not to update me! Just because, well, you've been associated to me for quite some time." She rubbed her neck in what appears to be out of shame.

You incredulously looked at Sam's face. To be back from the life you have been taken away from, to reunite with people that you've missed... but it also meant being away from Sam and to no longer call her your wife—it felt sickening. You were coming around to closely forgiving her, to giving her another chance as she proved herself better than before. You doubt that this woman can actually hurt you again, after all.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you courageously grabbed Sam by the collar of her shirt. "Fuck you, Sam Loomis. Don't mess around like this."

"I'm not complaining, but I don't understand..." Sam murmured as you pushed the double door, leading her to the bed.

You two ended up catching on much needed passionate touches and sinful nights you've deeply missed with the woman. Your soul was ignited with each kiss Sam has left your neck, every touch had set you on fire. Funnily enough, the roles were reversed. You cannot be parted away from her, your arm slung and secure over her nape. What moved you the most was her kissing away the now-scarring form on your forearm.

The divorce papers? Somewhere lying on the floor, completely forgotten.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[karajaynetoday]

nothing's going right, and everything's a mess, and no one likes to be alone | jack hughes

author's note: don't ask me how the university semester timeline in this works. i have simply given reader a three week break in march bc why not. this is fanfiction okay, anything can happen 😂 no one proofread this for me so soz for any typos!

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: none that i can think of? but lmk if i've missed anything. soz if the ending makes you mad LOL i do love a cliffhanger

read part one here

read part two here

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

Somehow, the ill feeling of waiting until summer to see Jack again began to fade with each passing day. The itch to text him every time something exciting or infuriating happened to you began to lessen. The thoughts of him when you saw a funny meme he’d like, or your shared favourite foods on special at the grocery store, quietly stopped happening as frequently. 

But then there were the things that didn’t stop. The sharp pain in your chest whenever Jack’s smiling face popped up on your social media feed. The butterflies in your stomach whenever your parents brought him up in conversation, fuelled by whatever the latest updates were from their group message thread with Jim and Ellen. The joy that would wash over you when you heard about a Devils win or a Jack Hughes goal, followed almost always by a wave of sadness that you were hearing about it second or third hand, rather than from Jack himself.

You were the one who’d asked for space. You needed time, you’d said. Given the blow up of All-Star weekend, all Jack was doing was respecting your wishes; but a huge part of you not so secretly wished he’d be a bit more disrespectful and reach out. Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts, and your heart wasn’t sure which emotion to feel or where to go next. 

Since kindergarten, you’d barely gone more than a few days without seeing or communicating with Jack in some way. Now you were nearly a month without a word, and even though you were still mad at how he’d treated you, you were craving a return to the friendship you’d become so accustomed to. Jack knew you better than anyone, could basically read your mind with a single look, and although you had plenty of friends at college and still around in Toronto from high school, none came close to the camaraderie you shared with Jack. He was someone you could talk to for hours, or sit next to in silence for the same amount of time, it didn’t matter. With Jack, you could be utterly and entirely yourself, no complications. Now it felt like you were always pretending. And it was exhausting.

It was about 9pm on a Thursday night when you found yourself pushing through that exhaustion to try and complete yet another university assignment. For motherfucking economics. You couldn’t wait until you’d completed all of your compulsory economics credits because it was the absolute opposite of your cup of tea, when it came to academic subjects. This assignment was your last one, and you weren’t sure whether to cheer or cry at the idea of hitting the submit button on the online portal. Maybe you should’ve bought a confetti cannon to celebrate. Or a box of wine. Or booked yourself a flight somewhere fun, given you had a break from classes soon.

As soon as the thought of a trip crossed your mind, your phone began to buzz with an incoming video call. A video call from… Luke. Luke Hughes. 

Your face scrunched in confusion, as you swiped to answer the call, met with Luke’s smiling face and messy curls. 

“Hey sunshine! Long time no see. How have you been?” Luke spoke cheerily. Almost too cheerily. 

You were immediately suspicious and narrowed your eyes at the youngest Hughes. 

Luke was 3 years old when you met for the first time; he could barely remember a life without you in it. Given how inseparable you and Jack were, Luke became your de facto little brother, always tagging along where he could and joining in your adventures. Later on, when he became a teenager, you were the one Luke would come to when he was having issues with his friends, or trying to build up the courage to ask out the cute girl in his math class, or missing his brothers when they moved away. You were his second call after Ellen when he felt homesick at Michigan, and you were his first call when he had fucked up something that he felt his brothers would never let him live down. Emotional support and damage control, with a healthy dose of teasing and laughs thrown in. That was the dynamic between you and Luke. It also meant you could read him to filth when he was lying to you, and your honesty radar was through the roof at this sudden video call.

“I’m fine, Moose. Just trying to wrap up my final assignment before the break without losing my entire mind.” You offered weakly, half-expecting Luke to make a joke about your mind having been lost years ago, but the joke never came.

Instead, you saw the concern flicker across Luke’s face, just for a moment, before he forced a smile.

“How long is your break for? Any plans?”

“Three weeks, and not really. I promised my mother I’d spend a few days helping her with planning for their anniversary party in June, but that probably won’t happen until right before I go back to school.” You chatted absently, hitting save on your essay and standing up from the couch, bringing your phone with you as you moved into the kitchen to make yourself a drink.

You propped the phone up against the vase on your kitchen bench, reaching up into the cabinet to retrieve a glass. 

“Well, you should come visit. We’ve got like 5 home games in a row or something ridiculous coming up. It’d be fun!” Luke’s tone was cheerful, but cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to react. 

You hummed in response, moving slightly out of view of your phone to get some ice cubes from your freezer and a soda from the fridge. 

“Besides, I heard a rumour that you’ve got an airline voucher to use. I’d hate for it to expire or something.” 

You could feel your heart starting to beat faster. Luke knew about the voucher. Did that mean Jack had told him about your fight? 

“The voucher won’t expire for three years. I’m sure I’ll manage to use it before then.” You deadpanned, stepping back into frame to see Luke rolling his eyes at you. 

“Yeah, sure, but will I survive that long without seeing you? Absolutely not. Come on, sugar. Please? Even if it’s just a weekend?” Luke had moved into full begging mode, with puppy dog eyes and everything.

You sighed, fidgeting with the straw in your drink and avoiding his gaze. 

“I don’t… we haven’t talked at all, Luke. I don’t know what he’ll do if I just show up there.” You half-whispered, feeling that all-too-familiar wave of sadness coursing through your veins. 

“He talked about you tonight at dinner. Says he misses you. But he doesn’t want to push, or not give you the space you wanted. But right now, he’s on the couch watching Gossip Girl, so…” Luke stated matter-of-factly, staring you down with a knowing look on your face.

Gossip Girl was something you’d insisted Jack get into when you were teenagers, as long as he “wanted to be called your official best friend”. And The OC. And Gilmore Girls. And One Tree Hill. And basically any other teen drama series you could think of. Collectively, those shows had thousands of episodes, and you always found yourself settling down to watch them whenever you were missing Jack more than usual. You’d never realised before that he did the same.

“Should… should we tell him I’m coming? I don’t want him to get upset by a bad surprise.” 

“Not at all, sugar. Book the flight and send me the details, I’ll sort out the rest.” Luke’s beaming smile made a smile of your own creep onto your face, as you nodded at him and went to retrieve your laptop from the couch to log onto the airline website.

“Now that that’s sorted, I was wondering, what does it mean when a girl asks me what my sun, moon and rising are? Should I be worried? Or is it a good thing?”

– 

Two days later, you were done with your semester and on your way to the airport. Luke had suggested you book a one-way flight, “That way, you can go home whenever you like!”, but you were starting to feel like the whole thing was a mistake. 

Nonetheless, you pushed through those feelings and boarded your flight. The whole ordeal took less than two hours, and soon enough you found yourself navigating the arrivals area at Newark airport. You spotted Luke’s lanky figure, clad in a Michigan sweatshirt, with his back to you. You couldn’t help but creep up on him and poke his side, cracking up with laughter as Luke jumped at least three feet into the air. He’d always been the easiest to scare, ever since you were kids. 

Luke cussed you out, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Missed your face, sugarplum.” Luke murmured, as you pulled away from each other and he rested his hands on your shoulders, studying you. 

“Aw, Lukey. I’d say I’d missed yours too, but we really gotta do something about that hair.” You poked your tongue out as the youngest Hughes brother’s jaw dropped in mock offense. 

You retrieved your bag from the luggage carousel, and headed out to where Luke had parked. The two of you fell into easy conversation as Luke navigated through the New Jersey streets back to the apartment he shared with Jack. 

You managed to bury most of the nerves, but they came bubbling back to the surface when Luke pulled into the parking garage at the bottom of his building.

“Is… um… Is Jack home? Alone?” You managed to squeak out, and Luke looked at you like you were crazy. 

Ever since All-Star weekend, you’d been having a recurring nightmare about Jack and the girl from the messages you’d accidentally become privy to. In particular, it was a scenario where you would come home from wherever you’d been out, and opened the apartment door to find them… entangled, on every possible surface you could think of. You felt yourself starting to feel ill as the images from your nightmares started to flash back into your mind. 

“He’s alone. Ever since… ever since he came home early from All-Star, he’s been alone. None of the… usual visitors have been over. And he hasn’t been going to theirs, either. Not even when we’re on a roadie.” Luke said carefully, and you could tell he was trying not to upset you.

You could also tell that he was being honest. Because you could always tell when he was lying. But your mind was running a million miles a minute. Jack hadn’t… for a month? Because of his fight with you? You loved Jack, but you also knew (despite wishing that you didn’t know at all) that it had been years since he’d gone that long without intimacy. In fact, it was probably the longest since losing his virginity that Jack hadn’t fulfilled his desires. 

Your mind was starting to wander into the gutter, and you pressed your eyes closed to bring yourself back to Earth. All you could do was nod at Luke, before you both hopped out of the car and into the elevator. Luke insisted on carrying your luggage, so you found yourself fidgeting incessantly with your hands as the elevator climbed to the correct floor. 

You trailed behind Luke as he strode towards the apartment door and unlocked it, stepping inside and putting your bag down. He looked back and waved you into the apartment, pressing a finger to his lips. You tiptoed across the doorway, and your heart softened at the scene before you. 

You could see the back of Jack’s head leaned up against the couch, and an episode of Gilmore Girls playing on the TV mounted on the wall. In fact, it was one of your favourite episodes; where Jess comes back and shows Rory the book he wrote, and calls her out for dropping out of Yale. You smiled ruefully as you thought about the parallels between that episode and your current situation with Jack, as the argument between Jess and Rory played out on the screen.  

What do you mean?

You know what I mean! I know you. I know you better than anyone! This isn't you!

… 

This isn't you! This! You going out with this jerk, with the Porsche! We made fun of guys like this!

You caught him on a bad night.

This isn't about him! Okay? Screw him! What's going on with you? This isn't you, Rory. You know it isn't. What's going on?

I don't know. I don't know…

“Are we Team Jess or Team Rory this time, Jacky?” Luke called out, making you jump. 

“Team Jess all the way, obviously. Where have you bee-” Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to face his brother, and instead saw you in the middle of his living room.

Jack’s face was a revelation. Confusion, at first. Then the briefest flash of hurt and anguish. Then a smile. Then caution and uncertainty, as he slowly stepped towards you. 

You let a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and quickly moved across the room, clumsily throwing your arms around your best friend. You felt Jack freeze momentarily, almost as if he was shocked at your touch, but that soon passed and you felt his hands slide around your waist and squeeze, bringing your bodies as close together as possible. 

You nestled your head on Jack’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. His thumbs softly rubbed up and down your side, and you felt him press a soft kiss into your hair. You stayed like that for a minute, or maybe longer, relaxing into the embrace.

The sound of the apartment door slamming shut made you jolt, and you rolled your eyes as you realised that Luke had tried to sneak way unnoticed and failed miserably. 

“Hi.” Jack whispered, pulling back from you slightly but keeping his hands locked around you. 

“Hi.” You whispered back, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. 

“Is it still shit hair? Or better now it’s longer?” Jack teased, rolling his tongue between his teeth.

“Better. But only slightly.” You teased back, your hands slipping down to the back of his neck comfortably. 

The warmth of the surprise arrival was starting to fade. The dread you’d felt over addressing your fight with Jack was starting to set in, fast. The guilt you felt for being the catalyst for over a month for not speaking to your best friend was washing over you. Your heart rate was through the roof, and your palms were beginning to sweat. 

Jack sensed your change in mood, and pulled away from you to look you up and down.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to shower? Or take a nap?” He was nervous, too.

“I ate before my flight. And showered this morning. And it’s 11am, so I think I’m good on the nap front. But I do think we should… we should talk. About everything.” You were basically tripping over your words at this point, but Jack’s reassuring nod helped to calm your nerves. 

Wordlessly, Jack took your hand and led you over to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. You sat down and faced him, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees, still fidgeting with your hoodie sleeves. 

“I’m sorry - “ You both said unanimously, a gentle laughter filling the room. 

“I’m sorry I needed so much time apart, J. It fucking sucked, and it was my fault, and I just didn’t -” You began to ramble, only stopping when Jack leaned over and squeezed your knee reassuringly.

“You only needed that time because I was an asshole, sugar. It’s on me, really. I had no right to treat you like an occasional friend, or something that I shouldn’t prioritise -” Jack paused as you cringed, remembering the text messages that referred to his time with you as “boring family bullshit”. 

“I was thinking with my dick, not with my head, and that’s not fair on anyone.” You shot Jack a weird look, and he looked sheepish in return.

“Quinn… Quinn said that to me. After you told him to tell me about the messages. He’s right, thought. It wasn’t fair.” Jack continued, pausing to take a deep breath. 

“This whole… thing, this life -” Jack gestured broadly at the apartment around you, and you glanced around properly for the first time. Framed jerseys of Luke and Jack’s adorned the walls.Various photos of the Hughes family scattered about the place. The fridge, with a gas bill stuck to it, along with a polaroid of you and Jack from last Christmas. And a photo from your senior prom. And a group photo of everyone from last summer at the lake house, Jack’s mouth open in laughter with his arm slung over your bikini-clad shoulders. 

“It’s all I thought I ever wanted. And it’s amazing, and I’m so grateful. But it’s worth nothing to me, the money, the girls -” You felt yourself involuntarily cringe again. “The fame, the accolades, it’s worth nothing to me without the people that I love by my side. And if those people don’t know how much I love and appreciate them, because I treat them like shit, then that’s on me. No one else. Me.” 

You sat quietly, taking in Jack’s emphatic statement. You weren’t quite sure what to say. So instead, you gently reached over and took Jack’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing softly, for a moment while you gathered your thoughts.

“I know the life you live, Jack. You don’t have to be sorry for it. Playing hockey was all you ever dreamed of, and I honestly can’t blame you for… enjoying… all the perks it comes with.” You swallowed the wave of nausea that hit you, before continuing. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what life looks like without you in it. The last month was such a bizarre experience, and not one that I ever want to repeat, but I also… I need to… Can I be honest?” You spoke softly, glancing up from your hands to meet Jack’s gaze, and he nodded encouragingly at you. 

“I wasn’t just upset because you made me feel like I was inconveniencing you, or cock-blocking you -” It was Jack’s turn to cringe. “I think I was upset because I was jealous. Because that will never, ever be me. And I think… I think I want it to be? Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know!” You dropped Jack’s hand and stood up from the couch, and started to pace the room. 

“Sugar, please sit down.” Jack pleaded, and you paused, looking back at him on the couch. One look was all you needed, and you narrowed your eyes at the smirk on his dumb face. 

“Why are you smirking? I am experiencing emotional distress, you asshole.” You seethed, running your hands through your hair in frustration.

“Tell me more about this jealousy thing. I’m intrigued.” Jack’s tone was light and teasing, and washed over you like sour milk. Your head whipped in his direction and your face must’ve said a thousand words, because Jack’s smirk soon disappeared and he hurriedly stood up and walked over, reaching out to touch you. 

“See, this -” You jabbed a finger into Jack’s chest. “This is why I have avoided this conversation for almost my entire life. Because you think it’s hilarious that we could ever go down that path. That we could ever be something more than what we are. Because I’m not good enough,or pretty enough, or just enough and I never will be, and I hate it. I hate it so much.” Your voice cracked on the last few words, and you felt the hot tears start to bubble out of your eyes and stream down your face. 

Jack didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He pulled you into a hug, bringing his hand up to your face and gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs. 

“Breathe, sugar. You need to calm down.” Jack said quietly, willing you to calm. That just made you cry harder. 

You were about to pull away, when you felt Jack cup your face with both hands, before leaning in to kiss you. 

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

a/n: i don't know how i feel about this yet but i hope it's okay lol. but i do know that i need this man real bad. and i picked this song bc it just kinda reminds me of this:)) also, i'm british but i always imagine the characters i write to have american accents so that's how i write them:))

cw: throat fucking, breeding, connie calls reader 'ma', 'hermosa', and 'baby', oral (f + m receiving), connie nuts on reader, n word usage, connie speaks spanish 2x; 'lo sé, hermosa, lo sé' (i know, beautiful, i know); 'quieres un hijo, ma?' (you want a kid, ma?)

wc: 2286

you always knew connie was a problem. from the day your ex introduced you to him, and his eyes’ journey across your body was one that should not be taken by a guy your man called his ‘best friend’. connie’s treatment towards you had never held any resemblance to that of a friend. it was almost as if he had no desire to hide his want for you. shown by the way he spent the rest of that evening, at eren’s house, eye-fucking you. his eyes probing you; brushing across your entire body, making the hairs on your skin rise at his command.

after that night, his eyes would return to you; attaching themselves to any moving flesh, as you shook ass when you guys all went out together. but, once again, you brushed him off. and you could've sworn you whined on him one time but the dim lighting in the club meant that you could never confirm. it was never to the extent where he made you particularly uncomfortable, you just needed to know what the nigga’s problem was. so you asked your, now ex, boyfriend ony about it. but he had accused you of blowing it all out of proportion.

“just because the nigga looked at you, you think he wants you?”, he had scoffed, shaking his head at you.

“it’s not about him looking, ony, it’s how he looked.”, you defended, and ony had rolled his eyes and carried on with whatever he was doing. that marked the first of many arguments you two had about connie.

the turning point came when you and ony broke up, and the first person to text you as soon as it happened was…connie. it was as if he had been waiting for this very moment since he met you. and he had. but, unlike his prolonged affections for you, the message he sent you was short.

”you good?”, you looked at your screen through teary eyes, and saw that he was facetiming you. so you, hesitantly, answered and you were met with a sentimental connie, throwing condolences your way. ensuring you that you would be fine, and telling you praises like; ‘you were too good for him anyways’ and ‘i would never treat a girl as beautiful and smart as you like that. i don’t know what he was thinking’. and, as sweet as his words were, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his words that denounced his friend, aimed at the ears of his ex-girlfriend. but their comfort outweighed all the suspicions, so those calls became more regular. and, perhaps, that's how you got to where you are now; head upside down over the edge of his bed, with his dick fucking in and out of your throat.

“why you ain’t leave him sooner, y/n? i know he ain't ever fucked you like this”, your head tried to shake a response to him and he just laughed down at you, thinking you were absolutely adorable. even with all that spit spilling out the corners of your mouth, and your mascara running all over your face.

he had invited you over to just “chill”, but you knew better and went in a matching bra and thong—you didn’t know if it was just post-breakup loneliness, or wishful thinking because you had been feeling him for timeee. but it was a gesture he had laughed at once he took your clothes off.

“you want this dick just as bad as it wants you, huh?”, he had laughed, earning an abashed giggle from yourself. how he ended up fucking your throat, you didn't know. but you had weakened this man’s knees considerably, and now both of his hands were placed on your knees. the sight of your dainty hands toying with your clit as he used your throat as a cock sleeve made his dick pulsate in your throat. so he pulled out of you, slowly, groaning before he had two seconds to position his dick and nut all over your chest and stomach.

you no longer had loyalties to ony, so you could freely admit that connie was eating you out in a way ony never had. the pleasure he was giving you travelled through every cell in your body, even reaching your fingertips as one of your hands tried to grab at whatever parts of his bleached buzz cut it could. the other busy cramping due to how hard you were grabbing at the duvet underneath you. both of your legs rested over his shoulders as his tongue politely abused your heat. you thought you felt something in his mouth when you two kissed earlier, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had dulled your senses. but, now he had you spread open on his bed, you could feel the small ball of metal greeting your clit as he sucked it into his mouth; the combination of the cold jewellery and the warmth of his tongue making your back lift off the bed. you were so close to your end, and that gap was finally closed when the little ball started vibrating. connie’s lower face was drenched, your wetness running down his chin and neck.

not a drop of it was wasted as he wiped it on his hand and licked it all off, his eyes glued to your face the entire time. having not fully come down from your high, connie’s next movements were a blur to you. all you remembered was him pulling something out of his draw, then your legs were in his arms, your thighs meeting his hips as connie fucked into you like he would get evicted from his house if he didn't. his trimmed fingernails were digging into the flesh surrounding your thighs and his eyebrows met to furrow in the middle of his face. he no longer cared about loyalties, not with how tight you were. he would do this now, and deal with the consequences later. because how could he let his best friend get in between him and the finest girl he'd ever met?

this man fucked you mercilessly, it was as if he had a point to prove. and he did—he wanted you to know that it's him you should've been with in the first place. he would’ve been so much better to you than his friend had been. and if you couldn’t see it, you’d feel it. the tip of his dick was damn near touching your lungs, knocking out any air you had stored in them. your eyes hadn’t focused since you entered those four walls, and connie’s were clouded by you. and that cloud finally rained down when you came around him,

“c-connieee—fuck—s-so good—fuckfuckfuck”, were your final words before your second nut of the night—arousal flooding the fabric underneath you, as well as connie's lower abdomen. seeing you coat him again, and wet the places that dried after the first one, made connie’s dick throb. but he wanted you to nut again before he got his own end.

so he picked you up, and laid you on your stomach, lifting your ass up, and giving it a quick slap. the sensitivity still resounding in all your limbs exacerbated the feeling of his palm, and long fingers, meeting your soft flesh. before he spaced your legs apart, his right one knelt between them, and his left propped up beside you. in seconds he was pounding into you again. your hands were grabbing at pillows, sheets, anything to find a small grip on reality. because this man was trying to fuck you into madness. his brain had stopped working the moment your lips attached to his, and its small whisper of reason evaporated and was replaced by his dick’s harsh clamours to fuck you until he couldn’t anymore.

clamours became careless whispers telling him to nut in you, and get you pregnant so you could be his forever. something he had joked about it in your facetimes, telling you,

”i have half a mind to make you the mother of my kids. then i could take care of you forever”, your view was of him cooking shirtless, with nothing but pyjama bottoms on. and you knew there was nothing under them because of the way they sat on his hips—his v-line fully exposed. but your response had been a laugh and an eyeroll,

“shut up, bro. i’m not trynna be anyone’s baby mum”, you scoffed.

”i never said baby mum. i said mother of my kids. there’s a difference”, he had reassured, earning another eyeroll from you. that conversation replayed over, and over, again in his head. and he tried to disperse those thoughts by maintaining a firm hold on your hips, pulling you onto him as he fucked you like his life depended on it.

he was hitting you with those slow strokes that hit the right spot every single time, and it had you whining and slapping the pillows above your head,

“don't tap out on me, ma, c’mon. stay wit’ me”, and you tried, but the pleasure he was making you feel was enough to drive a grown woman to insanity.

“i'm trying con-n, but it's—nnggh—too fucking good. fuck”, he revelled in knowing he was being this good to you, even if it meant dire things for his friendship. he had always wanted to see what this pussy was like, and now he knew, he'd be back again next week. same time, same place, the only changing being the positions he bends you into.

”lo sé, hermosa, lo sé”, he smirked onto your skin as he kissed it; his plump lips starting at your shoulders, making their way down the valley in the middle of your back. his hands would travel the width of your back, before one of them wrapped around your throat to pull you up to him—your back flush against his tatted chest. his body weight rested on his heels as he fucked up into you; one hand still gently squeezing your throat, and the other gripping onto your tit like it’d fall off if he let go of it. he didn’t know what he was saying anymore, all he needed was to make you his.

”quieres un hijo, ma?”, he voiced, and you blindly just nodded, until he spoke again, ”yeah, you do? want me to put a kid in ya?”, you didn’t know if he was playing or not, but you didn’t need the mess that would come with having a kid with your ex’s best-friend. even though you were trying to collect your thoughts, your surprise caused you to tighten around him. and that just made connie go even harder.

”n-no, connie, n-no. whattabout ony-y?”, you mewled out and he scoffed at you, his grip on your throat slightly harsher.

”the fuck he gonna say? huh?”, that last ’huh’ came out through gritted pearly whites, ”how’s he gonna claim you if you got my kid in ya? huh? he ain’t gonna do shit, ma, don’t stress”, he cooed before peppering small kisses all over you.

”b-but”, you wanted to tell this man that he’d lost his damn mind, but your eyes were too busy flickering into their sockets as more whines left your mouth.

”no buts, baby, i’ll take care of you”, his mouth left open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and, with the way he was making you feel, you just nodded in agreement.

the words, ”good girl”, were the golden keys that opened the flood gates, and you came around him. that nut took all the strength from your body, and you would’ve fallen onto the bed if he hadn’t been holding you up. even still, the merciless pace which he fucked up into you with, did not falter. and you came again, crooning his name in overstimulation.

”c-conniee, fff-fuck”, your voice cracked out. he just smirked at your cute demeanour and resumed kissing your shoulders. before his groans fell deeper, and his fingertips dug deeper into your skin. his arms held you still and he came inside you—his release stealing his strength, meaning he gently dropped you onto the bed, collapsing beside you after doing so.

”you didn’t nut in me.”, you spoke quietly, and you thought the duvet had muffled you but the low chuckles rumbling from behind you told you otherwise.

”i had a condom on. you ain’t see me take it out?”, he walked off the bed, ”or did you really think i was gonna put a baby in you?”, he smirked, taking the thin layer of latex off him. his face winced at the sensitivity.

”nah.”, you spoke sheepishly, shaking your head against the duvet. he got off the bed, and made his way to the side you were laying on. once he made it to you, he grabbed you by your chin—making you sit on your legs as your body wavered. then his tatted hand was on your jaw,

”’f you want that baby, just ask and i’ll give it to ya”, his voice was quiet and the corners of his lips rose, as his eyes remained on yours. and once he saw your head make a small nod, his smile grew even bigger.

”bet.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmoon. Do not repost without permission.

[joostsblog]

heyy i was wondering if you could write an angst to comfort joost fic where the reader is just like exhausted from everything and goes nonverbal bc theyre so tired and just frustrated and exhausted and joost gets worried when he hadnt heard from them in awhile so he goes to their house they break down in tears and he just comforts them?

Thanks for the request, I saw the opportunity to combine this request with another, I hope you don't mind! Here's the other request:

I hope the description of living with chronic pain is somewhat accurate 🫶🫶

cold tea ~ Joost Klein one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x reader (with chronic pain)

Description: During a particular bad episode of chronic pain, Joost is worried about you and checks up on you as he hadn't heard from you in a while.

Word Count: 0.7k

A/N: Again, I hope the both of you don't mind that I combined these requests💌 requests still open although I can't promise too many as I'll be on vacation the next two weeks ☀️ if you liked it, you can show your support by leaving a reblog 🫶

Warnings: not proofread

You were curled up in bed, cuddling your teddy bear, eyes tightly shut as you tried everything in you to forget about the pain throughout your body. This week had been a series of really bad days for your chronic pain, barely getting any sleep at night and not being able to turn up to work. Your body was so tired you knew the only thing it wanted to do right now was just to fall asleep but the pain within it made it impossible. On top of that, you felt guilty for ignoring your boyfriend Joost. There were dozens of worried unanswered texts from him on your phone accompanied by ignored phone calls. But for the past few days, the pain and the mental load that came along with it was so bad that you couldn't muster up much strength to text him back.

You had only started dating a few weeks ago which meant that Joost didn't know much about your issues with chronic pain. You were worried that Joost would think that you were purposefully ignoring him because you wanted to break things off him with - which couldn't be further from the truth. You were head over heels for the sweet boy. You wanted to spend every waking moment with him, curled up in his arms, laughing and giggling with him.

He's probably angry with me for not answering, you thought to yourself.

The shrill sound of the doorbell shattered through your head. You sighed as you knew you had to get up. You had ordered some takeout since you didn't feel like cooking but you knew you had to feed your body. With a wince, you slowly sat up straight and made your way to the door. Your heart might as well have briefly stopped beating as you saw Joost stand outside your door.

"(Y/N)?" Joost asked timidly, a concerned look on his face. "Is everything alright?"

You wanted to speak but couldn't bring your mouth to form any words. Too exhausted but also too embarrassed to speak. Instead, your throat just felt dry and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes.

"Oh, (Y/N)," Joost whispered with a frown as he saw your tears. "Do you- can I-," you could tell that Joost didn't quite know what to do. So you just opened the door wider indicating for him to come in. "Can I hug you?" Joost asked softly as he stepped into your flat and you nodded. Joost very softly wrapped his arms around your body, very careful not to hurt you in any way. "Is it the pain?" he asked and you nodded against his chest. "Let me take care of you," Joost whispered against your hair as he pressed a soft kiss against your head. He led you back to your bedroom and softly tucked you in under the covers. "Be right back."

A few minutes later he appeared again with a cup of tea which he placed on the nightstand and got in bed next to you. Joost opened his arms and you nodded and he scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around you carefully. For the first time in days, you could feel your body slowly relaxing. Joost started humming a soft melody and you could feel the exhaustion taking over your body slowly lulling you to sleep.

~

When you awoke, your head rested on Joost's lap, his hand softly caressing your head. He was reading an article on his phone and your heart fluttered as you caught a glimpse of the title: How to support a loved one with chronic pain.

Joost could feel you shift so he set down his phone and checked on you.

"Oh, you're awake," he smiled. "Your food came," he updated you. "And your tea went cold."

"Ice tea," you mumbled with a weak smile and Joost's eyes went wide with joy at finally hearing your voice again. Your body still felt sore but you were thankful that you were able to get at least a little bit of sleep.

"You're hungry?" Joost asked and you nodded. "I'll be right back," he said and got up before leaning down to you again to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You smiled.

Your worries about Joost not being understanding or not having patience were completely forgotten. Instead, you felt cared for and loved by him. You smiled at him as he entered the room with the Thai curry you had ordered.

"Thank you," you said, your voice still slightly straining. "I love you."

Joost smiled fondly at you before he pressed another kiss to your head.

"I love you too, liefde."

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part eight | r.c

summary:

Do not come over here right now, you thought to yourself, pleaded to God even, but of course, JJ walked right over to your table, stopping in front of you to bow theatrically. You could basically see Rafe’s vein throbbing in anger.

“Boss, can I get you anything?”

“I wasn’t aware you’re on her payroll, Maybank,” Rafe snapped, falling into your words before you could even open your mouth, glaring up at JJ.

“Oh didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got me this job,” JJ said gleefully and you groaned internally as Rafe drew his arm back, raising his brows at you.

“You did what?”

OR; The Spring Fling is finally here. And of course, no event on Kildare goes off without a hitch

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: none except for one macho context between Rafe and JJ lol

word count: 2,6k

author's note: hello don't ask what this is and don't yell at me bc i literally just wrote what the little people in my head told me to write (I think it's funny when you say that i'm making you insane, im telling you, im just equally as shook as im writing)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. eight: "and clandestine meetings and longing stares"

“When did you and Rafe start having sex?”

You nearly spat your mimosa all over the table, but opted for choking on it instead, coughing as the liquid went down the wrong pipe. Out of everything, Topper chose to ask you that question during brunch at the Spring Fling party, where you were surrounded by Kook families. But you should’ve known.

Topper’s mother was anything if not punctual and she had turned up not even a minute after 11. Rafe and Kelce were set to come later during the brunch, this was the perfect opportunity to ask something like that and Topper knew it.

Reaching for a napkin, you tried to keep your coughs to a minimum when your mother gave you a dirty look from her table. Consequently, you turned to Topper to give him an equally nasty look.

“Top, what the fuck?”

Topper only sent your mother a charming smile, raising his glass in her direction until she turned away with a headshake.

“Sorry, were the two of you trying to be discreet?” he then asked, glancing in your direction as he took a sip from his champagne. You let out a scoff, downing your mimosa in one go, your cheeks burning. Playing with the stem of the glass nervously, you took your time with an answer, knowing that Topper was sensible enough to not push you.

“How long have you known?”

Topper sighed, pushing his hair back at your evasive question. “Remember when we were hanging out at Rafe’s like three days ago? I left my wallet on the table and came back inside, just to hear the two of you going at it.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Of course. You had told Rafe to wait after Topper and Kelce left. For ten minutes at least, just to be safe; but then he started kissing your neck and your self-control flew out of the window. Asshole.

Topper eyed you skeptically, and you didn’t say anything, except a thank you to the waiter when he placed a new mimosa in front of you. Topper played with the corner of the tablet cloth, waiting until the waiter left before he spoke again.

“So… You what? Just fuck around?” he asked, frowning. “You’re willing to risk your friendship for sex?”

“We’re not risking our friendship, Top. We’re adults and we can have sex without complicated feelings, and if it ever starts to get weird, we just stop,” you told him, ignoring the fact that you had been questioning your friendship just last week. Topper didn’t need to know that.

He only exhaled, taking another sip of his champagne. The silence between the two of you stretched so long, you started to believe he had dropped the topic.

“Maybe we should hook up too.”

You nearly choked on your mimosa again, but you managed to swallow it this time, before turning to stare at Topper with wide eyes, your forehead creased.

“Ew what?”

Topper raised a brow at you. “What?”

“Why would you even say that? We’ve been friends forever, don’t be gross.”

“So have you and Rafe but you don’t have any problem fucking him.”

You bristled at his choice of words, turning away from him, frowning into the distance, knowing exactly what point he was trying to make. You had always wondered if Topper ever suspected that you had feelings for Rafe, but chose not to ask you about it. Until now.

“What’s your point?” you finally griped.

Topper gave you an exasperated look. “Seriously precious? You know this isn’t gonna end well. And it won’t just affect you and Rafe, it’s gonna affect me als Kelce, too. How the fuck are we supposed to choose sides if you’re our best friends?”

“What do you mean “choose sides”?” you huffed, throwing your hands up. “We’re adults, and we’re friends, best friends. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Do you really believe that?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes mostly to deflect. Topper had a point. This had potential to explode in all of your faces, have catastrophic consequences, and why? Because you were selfish? You’d risk your friendship with your best friend to have only a tiny more piece of Rafe, something that you weren’t entitled to? Clenching your jaw, you reached out to pat Topper’s hand gently, trying to find the right words, to take his worries away, but before you could, you saw Rafe arriving with Kelce and his family and you leaned back in your chair, glancing at Topper.

“Drop it,” you muttered under your breath, throwing him a warning glance, terrified that Rafe could overhear something.

The other half of your friend group approached your table, both of the boys kissing your cheek in greeting, before Kelce took a seat next to Topper, while Rafe sat down on the empty chair next to you.

“What did we miss?” Rafe asked, holding up two fingers to the waiter before turning to you, raising a brow.

Topper opened his mouth, no doubt to let out a stupid comment, but you stepped your foot on his, making sure that the heel only grazed the top of his shoe, warning him. Topper’s face contorted into pain, and he glared at you. Luckily, neither Kelce or Rafe noticed your squabble, as the waiter arrived with your drinks, placing four flutes of champagne and mimosas on the table.

“Just how precious over here stumbled over her words when she introduced her parents,” he said, making you roll your eyes. Kelce snickered and Rafe only smirked into his glass as he took a sip. Reaching for a new glass, you picked a glass by the stem, only to realize that Rafe had thrown his arm over your chair when you leaned back. You grew hot, which was stupid considering the fact that Rafe has always been touchy with you even before you two started having sex, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were showing your emotions all over your face. Throwing a glance over to Topper, you thought he’d show his disapproval, but he was engrossed in a discussion with Kelce over his new bike. If he had noticed, he hadn’t shown.

“Told you to practice, didn’t I precious?” Rafe muttered under his breath, the amusement clear in his voice. You only rolled your eyes, crossing your legs as you sipped on your mimosa. Things between you were… Almost normal. After the rather odd intimate moment you had in the shower and then in bed, it felt like Rafe had… Not exactly taken a step back when it came to sex, but you definitely felt like he was trying to show you how he valued your friendship more sex.

For example, when you were trying to come up with some sort of speech for the spring fling

“The way I recall it, I was practicing and you told me to “wing it” because “writing a speech is lame””, you said, quoting him.

Rafe snickered, taking a sip of his champagne. “You did a great job helping your parents pull this shit off,” he told you, his thumb drawing circles into your shoulder. You didn’t reply, swirling the mimosa in your glass around as Rafe glanced around the garden, before he did a double take, his eyes narrowing.

“What the fuck is JJ Maybank doing here?”

Three tables over, JJ was pouring Mr. Jones a glass of Champagne, the heavy bottle nearly slipping out of his fingers before he got a grip on it again. He only gave Mr. Jones a charming smile, you had no doubt he had some quip right on his tongue. You squirmed on your chair, finishing your mimosa in one go (was someone counting how many mimoas you’d had already?), shoving the empty glass on the table.

“Working, obviously,” you answered somewhat evasively. “Can’t you see that he’s wearing an uniform?”

“Obviously I can see that,” Rafe huffed, giving you a look. “I meant, how did he get a job here? I know for a fact that Kennedy hates his guts.”

Right, Kennedy the hostess.

“Why does Kennedy hate his guts again?”

“He said Carter’s name during sex,” Kelce suddenly chimed in, leaning over Topper to engage in the gossip session you were apparently having. You winced. Kennedy and Carter were sisters, you could see why Kennedy couldn’t stand JJ (anymore).

“To be fair, they’re twins, so I can understand how JJ mixed them up.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not!” you exclaimed. “I’m just saying, it’s an easy mistake to make.”

Rafe huffed, rolling his eyes with a headshake, clearly annoyed. You didn’t understand how he was so easily aggravated by pogues, especially JJ. Topper only gave you a look when you glanced over at him, while Kelce was too busy ogling JJ.

JJ, who had seemed to spot your group, judging by the way a smirk was growing on his lips. He leaned down to finish topping off the guests glasses, before departing from the table.

Do not come over here right now, you thought to yourself, pleaded to God even, but of course, JJ walked right over to your table, stopping in front of you to bow theatrically. You could basically see Rafe’s vein throbbing in anger.

“Boss, can I get you anything?”

“I wasn’t aware you’re on her payroll, Maybank,” Rafe snapped, falling into your words before you could even open your mouth, glaring up at JJ.

“Oh didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got me this job,” JJ said gleefully and you groaned internally as Rafe drew his arm back, raising his brows at you.

“You did what?” he asked incredulously. You rolled your eyes at his tone. He made it sound like you just betrayed his trust.

“He needed a job, what’s the harm in helping him out?”

“He’s a pogue,” Rafe all but spit out. “When the fuck did you even talk to him?”

“Last week after you guys left, he kind of broke into my house.”

“Accidentally!” “Wait what?” “He did what?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

Rafe scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, JJ only smirked in satisfaction, Kelce was staring at you with an open mouth and Topper looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Well, if you gentlemen don’t need anything else,” JJ said, looking at you. “Another drink, princess?”

“Don’t call her that.”

Just as you thought you’d avoided a full blown fight, Rafe was glaring daggers at JJ again, who just seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of your best friend and using you to do it.

“I think she can tell me herself if she doesn’t want me to call her princess.”

Rafe got up so fast, you could barely react before he was all up in JJ’s space, a frown on his face.

“Who do you think you are, parading around our side of the island?” Rafe hissed into JJ’s face, but the blonde barely blinked at him, his smirk never leaving his face. Meanwhile, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole, pressing yourself into your chair, hoping to disappear. You were just as angry as you were embarrassed, knowing how Rafe was causing a scene, making the other guests starting to look over; especially your mother, who was glaring at you as if you had instigated this.

“Guys,” Topper finally hissed. “This is not the right place for a pissing contest.”

Rafe took a step back, as if out of a trance. He flexed his hand, throwing JJ a dirty look. “Get lost, Maybank.”

Lucky for you, he did, but not without winking at you before he left. Rafe dropped back into his chair, and for a short second, you thought the whole party was ruined, but everyone quickly started chatting again, the incident forgotten.

“The nerve of that guy,” Rafe grunted, as if his behavior just now was insanely stupid. You only scoffed, shaking your head at him, and he glanced over at you, raising a brow.

“What?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, snatching your purse off the table, standing up quickly. Without excusing yourself, you left your friends at the table, heading straight to the bathroom to cool off. You exhaled slowly as you washed your hands, letting the cold water run over your wrists, not caring that you were getting your jewelry wet. When you finally deemed it enough. you turned the water off, drying your hands with paper towels. But you weren’t ready to go back out just yet, so you rummaged through your purse, trying to find your lipgloss to reapply. Just as you were about to put the small applicator on your lips, the door opened, and Rafe slid inside with a frown.

“Get out,” you said, even before the door shut properly.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me,” Rafe guffawed, his jaw slack. “That little shit was walking around like he owned the country club.”

You rolled your eyes at him so hard, you nearly gave yourself a migraine.

“So what? What does it matter to you, Rafe? Why can’t you just ignore him?”

“Why are you acting like this is my fault?! He started it!”

“You’re my best friend! You embarrassed me!”

“Embarr-” Rafe scoffed, breaking off with a headshake. “Did you hear how he was talking to you? He called you princess! He made you give him a job.”

“He made me?” you repeated, laughing dryly, finally lowering the lipgloss to look at him, your eyes sparkling with fury. “Do you realize who you’re talking to right now, Rafe? No one is making me do anything, least of all JJ. I’m not some damsel who needs saving, don’t use me to win whatever cock measuring contest you have going on with JJ.”

Rafe froze, and you let your words sink in, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse and zipping it back up. He finally sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his lips pursed. You looked at him, unimpressed. “I don’t know why, but JJ just gets under my skin. And it just made it worse when he treated you like that.”

“Like what?” you said, blinking at him. “Like he treats every other girl on the island?”

Rafe scoffed, leaning against the wall behind him. “You’re not like every other girl on the island, precious.”

“Rafe, I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh, the remaining anger melting away and you stepped to him, stopping just in front of him.

“How about I tell JJ where to shove it, and you sit back and shut up?”

Rafe quirked a smile at you, rolling his eyes a little. “I can try.”

You gave him a look and he let out a loud, dramatic sigh.

“Fine, I won’t say anything, I’m leaving it to you.”

“Better,” you said with a nod, making a shooing motion with your hand. “Now get out before people are starting to think we’re hooking up in here.”

“Now that you brought it up-”

“Rafe, get out.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: not me being proud of Kennedy/Carter (guess what their parents (me) named them after)

[shookuna]

m. fushiguro x gn!reader - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

a/n: another lil piece for a moot!! the loveliest ever @meguemii !! emiiiiiii i know u have been feeling a lil down recently so i thot a lil fic might cheer u up !!!! take this silly drabble w/ ur husband, pls enjoy him !!

just some dumb bf megumi, established relationship, megumi is a little mean in this but he doesn't mean it <3 cw: slight angst :(( bc megumi does not know how to Emote. but ends happily :))

wc: ~1.4k

"would you still love me if i was a worm?"

you ask out of the blue, rousing your boyfriend from whatever he was looking at on his phone. it's a typical night in for the two of you - take-out from your all-time favorite restaurant, cuddles, and a movie. it was his turn to pick tonight, and with no better ideas, he settled on some high-budget action flick that gojo-sensei had recommended.

"...pardon?" megumi asks slowly, his voice barely audible over the sound of swords clashing on the tv. he's facing you now with the most dumbfounded stare on his pretty face. surely, he must have misheard you. over the course of your relationship, you've asked him some pretty fucking stupid things ("if you were starving, would you eat me? like, what if i said it was okay.") but this might take the cake.

"you heard me. would you still love me if i was a worm?" you repeat, undeterred by the way he balks at the question. you could have just as well told him you thought the sky was green with the way he's looking at you like you have three heads.

"is this some sort of test?" megumi asks, furrowing his brows at you in mild frustration. he was still reeling from the time you asked him if he thought water was wet, which sparked an hours long debate. the sensible answer of "yes? it's water?" was not satisfactory for you, apparently, as you took it upon yourself to consult yuuji and nobara for their opinions. by the end of the night, all four of you were embroiled in a heated argument, with no one showing any signs of backing down. it was only when megumi suggested a truce that you all begrudgingly agreed, and the discussion finally ceased. having witnessed the extent of your stubbornness firsthand, megumi was in no hurry to see it again.

"no," you respond, stretching out the last syllable. "it's just a question. one i expect you to answer. would you still love me if i were a worm?"

megumi stares at you for a bit longer, his mouth opening and closing as he processes your inquiry. he'd gotten used to your weird antics, for the most part, but there were still times where you left him speechless, for better and for worse. he eventually settles on asking you "are you a worm?" in an attempt to assess your sanity.

"no, 'gumi," you roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks out at him. he could be so difficult when it came to providing reassurance, even in this roundabout way. "in this scenario, i'm asking you whether you'd love me if i was a worm. like, imagine i just got turned into a worm, all of a sudden." you clarify, which only serves to make megumi look even more hopelessly confused.

"i mean..." he starts, before hesitating when he sees the gleam of hope in your eyes. with his next words, he sees it die before his very eyes. "...no? obviously not?"

"obviously?!" you cry out indignantly, making megumi's brow furrows further. "what's so obvious about it?"

"i mean... i'm still a human in this... scenario, yes?" he asks, to which you grumble, "assuming you're human now, yes."

"okay, so i'm human, and you're a worm." he deadpans. when you still look at him expectantly, he adds, "that speaks for itself, really." the casual indifference in his voice wounds you even further.

"well, so what? i get turned into a worm, and that's it? you just stop loving me?" you protest, growing more animated as you speak.

"i don't foresee you turning into a worm anytime soon," megumi mumbles boredly, turning his attention back to his phone. he was prepared to dismiss the discussion entirely, to get on with your night and continue to ignore the laughably bad movie on the screen in front of you. when you actually pause the movie, he realizes that's not happening anytime soon. "what'd you do that for?"

"like you were even watching it," you scoff, before rising from your seat on the couch, "i just, i can't believe you would stop loving me just because i was a worm."

"just because you were a worm?" megumi parrots, raising his brow at you as he sits up straighter. "you can't say it so casually, like you're just getting a new haircut, or something." he attempted to reason with you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "you'd be a worm. we couldn't even communicate."

"i never said that!" you huff exasperatedly, and megumi just stares blankly at you. "i could, you know, spell messages out for you with leaves, and stuff..." you mumble under your breath, making him roll his eyes. "what?!"

"isn't it enough that i love you now?" he sighs deeply, attempting to appeal to your logical sensibilities. his words make your heart catch in your throat, and you can't help but avert your eyes away from his always piercing gaze. you knew it was stupid, to get genuinely upset at his answer to a question that had started as just a silly hypothetical. but sometimes, even though you knew megumi loved you deep down, you found it hard to reconcile his true feelings with his outward actions towards you. maybe he didn't have to love you if you were a worm, fine. but sometimes it felt like he might not love you now.

when you remain silent before him, megumi's eyes widen. shit. he didn't mean to hurt your feelings. how many times had this exact scenario happened before? where you were left to reassure yourself about megumi's love for you, when the man couldn't do it himself? you didn't deserve that. megumi knew it. "you... you do know i love you, right?"

more silence.

and then, even worse. tears.

your tears, sliding down your pretty face even as you attempt to blink them away. "i-i know, 'gumi," you let out a shaky breath, your voice scarcely above a whisper. "i know you love me. sometimes i just... i don't feel like you do." you say honestly, attempting to convey the depths of your feelings to the at times emotionally constipated man. luckily, your emotions in this moment require no further explanation.

"i... i know." megumi whispers out, in a voice so defeated that you can feel the little piece of your heart as it breaks for him. "it's just... hard, for me, sometimes, to..." he shifts in his seat, searching for the perfect words to put your mind at ease and coming up empty. "...to be honest with you, i guess. or, rather... to be honest with myself. about what i feel for you. about how much.. i love you.

"to admit that i'd... love you no matter what. even... even if you were a worm," megumi pauses and chuckles quietly when your face lights up, before continuing, "...it would force me to confront the fact that... yes, i would always love you. no matter what. and if one day, you woke up and fell out of love, if you realized you can do better than being with me, if you left... when you walk out the door..." he trails off, his eyes getting glassy as he casts his gaze down to the floor. "...you'd be taking a piece of me with you. a piece i don't think i could ever get back."

the air is heavy with the weight of his confession, and now it's your turn to stare at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes. you'd been dating for a while now, and he's told you he loved you before, but you'd never seen him like this. so vulnerable, his emotions spilling out as he threatened to come apart at the seams.

megumi wouldn't blame you if this was the moment that pushed you to walk out. after all, now, you had seen him at his lowest. his most weak. he certainly didn't expect you to fall in love even deeper after witnessing him in such a state.

but that's exactly what you did.

he nearly jumps in surprise when you throw yourself into his lap, draping your arms around his neck. "oh, 'gumi," you mumble, and the tenderness with which you say your little nickname for him has his heart racing in his chest.

"...i knew you'd love me if i was a worm."

© shookuna ! plus megumi header edited by me <33

[riki-riks-chick]

Senior Year PT.1 ︱N.RK

riki x reader (high school au)

yn is having a hellish year, but one boy makes it all the more bearable.

cw: fluff! bullying, high school, yn plays handball, toxic parents, toxic home life, swearing, slight verbal abuse.

wdct: 1.8k

requested series!

to the person who requested, pls give me feedback on whether this is good or not bc I WILL rewrite b4 continuing to part two. tyy <3

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Third Person POV~

 "I'm actually quite shocked. You're doing exceedingly well.. I got a few emails from coaches who watched our last game.. If you're serious about handball when season starts, you might get a scholarship." Your coach explains, and you're genuinely shocked. Sure you'd been training your ass off, but no one usually acknowledges it.

"Really?.. A scholarship where?" You ask as she smiles, amused at your excitement. "The states... Some school in Virginia."  She explains as your eyes widen. "The states!? My mom would never let me go to the states."

"She's not in control of you once you graduate.. You're good.. Don't let her hold you back.. Now, go home after school and rest up.. We have practice tomorrow after school."

You leave, and rather than going home, you head to your job. Working at some burger shack that everyone at your school came to. It wasn't too bad, but you hated being noticed. 

And just to your dismay, these three cheerleaders, that love to make your life, hell walked in. 

You just happened to be the only employee on the register so you had no choice but to take their orders. 

And as you did so, begrudgingly, one of them spoke up. "Aren't you that loser from third period?.." 

You sigh, avoiding her gaze as you finish finalizing their order. "That'll be $23.45.." You ignore her remark, simply wanting to finish the order. She scoffs though, arms crossing tightly across her chest. "Are you not gonna answer me?... Fucking loser."

She pays for the order before walking over to some random seat to wait around for it, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

They've messed with you before, and you simply ignore it. It's better to take the shit than lose your job that you so desperately need, and worked hard to get.

You call the number for their order after a short while, giving them their drinks last as the tallest one of the girls scoffs. "This is the wrong drink." She then takes it out of the holder, throwing it at you, which results in you getting soaked in diet coke. It was, in fact, the right drink.

"What is wrong with you?" You try not to raise your voice, makeup and hair ruined, clothes soaked and sticking irritatingly against your skin, and she's just standing there with a smirk on her face. "You dumb bitch. Can't even get an order right." Just as you're about to retaliate, knowing that you didn't even make her order, someone grabs her wrist, tugging her away from the counter.

"That's enough.. Do you always go around giving people hell? At school, and now here..?" You glance up at the much taller figure gripping your offenders wrist, and you're slightly shocked at who it is.

It's the one boy that you've never heard speak in class, never seen him interact with other people despite his teammates on the basketball team. And yet he's popular.. Tall, handsome, and quiet. It's hard not to notice him.

When you finally snap back to reality, the three girls are storming out of the place and the boy is still standing in front of you, Nishimura Riki.

You've never imagined making eye contact with him, or speaking to him, but when his deep brown eyes meet yours, you immediately glance away, too flustered to continue looking him in the eyes.

He smiles gently, and there's a hint of pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry that happened.. Are you okay?..." His voice is slightly deep, and definitely nicely toned. You simply nod at his question, remembering that you're covered in soda.

"I'm fine.. I can take your order.." You try to deflect but he shakes his head. "No, let me take you home so you can change.. That can't be comfortable for you." 

His voice is very persuasive, and you decide not to argue, telling him to wait before walking into the kitchen to talk to your manager. 

"Mr. Rio...?" You inquire softly as the man glances up from his position at the grill, working on an order. "What happened?" He question, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Some girl threw her drink at me...." Your explanation leaves him to nod understandingly. "Just go home.. I'll handle everything until I can call another person here." 

You question whether he's sure or not before grabbing your stuff and rounding the counter. Riki grabs your stuff for you, carrying your book bag and your waterbottle as he gestures for you to follow him. You follow him towards his car and it's nice, a black mercedes. You're already regretting your decision to let him take you home.

"I can't get in your car like this.." You sigh as he shakes his head. "It's fine.. I'll clean of the seat afterwards.."

You refuse at his words. "No... I don't wanna cause you any trouble..." You argue as he rolls his eyes. "Fine then..." He get in the driver's seat, reaching into the duffle bag in the backseat as he pulls put a towel, putting it on the seat. "Come on. Now I won't even have to worry about cleaning the seat."

You sigh, still hesitant, but you still get into the car. He smiles once you're seated, leaning over the console to reach for your seatbelt, fastening it for you.

"So, where do you live..?" 

The car ride to your house is excruciatingly silent. You're awkward, and he doesn't know how to speak to you. It's just terrible.

"This is my house.." You speak up quietly as he stops the car. "Well.. I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?.." He asks as you nod, unfastening your seat belt and scrambling to get out of the car. "What was your name again?..." He asks as you sigh nervously. "I'm Y/n... L/n Y/n..." You answer as he nods. "Nice. I'm Nishimura Riki.."

And like an idiot, you respond, "I know..." Riki chuckles, smiling. "Then you'll know we have class together.. Don't forget to say hi."

He then drives off, leaving you on the pavement dumbfounded. After a few minutes, you shake it off, heading inside as you take off your shoes. Just to your luck, your mom is on her way out. 

"What are you doing home?.." Your mom questions, brows furrowed inquisitively as she slid into her sneakers. 

"Some girl threw a drink at me at work, so my boss let me go home..." You explain as she scoffs. "You're so weak... Your sister would've kept working.. Learn to endure."

And then she leaves, grabbing her keys before slamming the front door behind her. You hear the lock click shortly after, letting out a sigh of relief.

You hated being compared to your sister. She graduated with honors, and you're barely keeping A's and B's... She's just better... And your mom is no help, constantly comparing you to her. It's definitely not fair because your sister is far from perfect, but you try not to let it haunt you.

The first thing you do is shower, the icky feeling of the soda making your clothes cling to you uncomfortably. After showering, you wash the clothes to avoid the soda staining them permanently. Once all of that is handled, you're rummaging through the kitchen for something decent to eat. In the end, you're settling for pizza rolls and some instant ramen. 

After eating the very random meal, you head upstairs to work on your homework, but to your luck, you left it in the cute boy's car. 

Great, another assignment to fail. You think to yourself as you open your laptop, ready to email your teacher in hopes they'll be understanding. Just as you're about to hit send, a notification sounds on your phone, the screen illuminating with a text from an unknown number. 

You open it, and to your luck its Riki. 

[Hey, it's Riki. I found your backpack in the backseat... I would bring it back, but I'm busy tonight.. Is it okay if I give it back tomorrow?] 

You sigh at the text, deciding to just forget the email and hope that homeroom gives you enough time to complete the homework.

[Yeah.. Tomorrow is fine... I need it during homeroom.]

[Great, I'll be there as soon as school starts.]

You thank him before setting your phone on the desk, sighing loudly. This day has been terrible, practice sucked, you got a drink thrown at you, and now your backpack is at some boy's house all because you accepted a ride home.

You just decide to push everything aside, getting in bed and watching random corny kdramas until you fall asleep.

It's rare that you ever get a good night's rest. If you hadn't left work early, you'd barely be home at 8pm... Luckily you got to sleep a little earlier, but just as quickly as you got lucky, you got unlucky.

You wake up to loud sounds coming from downstairs, and you're already aware of the familiar yelling voices. 

You leave your room, heading quietly down the stairs as you hear your parents yelling, something about money and your dad being irresponsible. 

You're used to the banter, and sometimes you just filter it out, but the sounds of broken glass was slightly alarming.

You peek into the kitchen, your parents are at each other's throats, and eventually your mom just yells for your dad to get out.

The man manages one last rude remark before leaving the house, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Just as your mom walks out of the kitchen, you try to ask if she's alright, she simply pushes past you, heading upstairs quietly.

Your sister still isn't home. God knows what she's out doing this time of night, but you're sure it isn't working.

Almost every last penny of your paycheck goes to your mom, and your sister's paycheck is never the same amount. You know for sure she's blowing it off selfishly, and your mom knows too, but she doesn't care.

One time you bought a new pair of shoes with your check since your family wasn't too far behind on bills, and boy you never heard the end of it. That's why you just give all the money you make to your mother.

And yet she still favorites your older sister. But you try your best to please her anyway. In the end you really don't have a way to impress her, unless you won the lottery maybe.. 

You genuinely just want a normal senior year, and at this point you'll do anything to get it.

[revasserium]

i’m CRAVING a sanji fic rn 🤤🤤

maybe something on showing affection with him? cause i feel like he’s kinda superficial with his affection when first trying to get with u, but then as the relationship progresses the affection becomes so much more.

well ur in luck bc i do have a sanji fic cookin currently but who knows how long it'll take me to actually finish... in the meantime... here are some sanji domestic/affectionate!headcanons bc why not

in the beginning, it would be the grand gestures -- always waking you up with a kiss and coffee (or tea, if you're sick, or just don't feel like coffee that day) and your favorite foods; a bouquet of fresh flowers (do not ask him how he obtains these in the middle of the ocean; he will not tell you and robin remarks loftily one day that you might not like the answer)

in the beginning, he'd tell you he loves you every single hour, lest you forget for even a minute, even though it's only been like... a week and you're not entirely sure what "love" means quite yet

and then, it'd taper off, not because the 'honeymoon phase' is over, but because he'd find other ways to show you -- other ways of tellin you he loves you without telling you in so many words

there's still breakfast, but sometimes instead of coffee or tea, there's a book that you mentioned you'd been wanting to read, there's an origami crane folded out of the napkin with such excruciating care it almost breaks your heart, there's a note written in his sloppy, slanted handwriting that he dreamt of you last night and couldn't figure out if he wanted to wake up to tell you or keep sleeping not to break the fragile dream

and the "i love you"s become something else too -- they become "how did you sleep, love?" and "i knew you'd be craving that" and "c'mon, drink up -- there's more where that came from" and "tell me about your dreams" and "funny, those sound an awful lot like my dreams too".

it'd solidify, this kind of love -- his kind of love -- into something much quieter than anyone might suspect. this kind of love that simmers, the kind of love that curls around you like a hot bath, that draws you in

it's the way he always saves the wishbone whenver he cooks up any kind of bird, how he always waits till everything is done and the kitchen's all cleaned up before pulling you toward the counter, to the tiny little bone with it's winged flanges, him holding one end, the other offered out like a promise (or a wish)

you've pulled so many between you that you've lost count of how many wishes you've made, until you're laughing and complaining that you're running out of things to wish for

"what do you wish for?" you ask one day, when you've tugged and sanji gets the wish, to which he only looks at you and says, "always the same thing, actually. always... just another day with you."