#don't be surprised that the sunset's late!

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 26.

Summary: In which you and Venetia finally discuss the thing you've been avoiding all Summer since Oliver arrived. You finally get the truth from her, and wish you hadn't. Still, you finally offer the truth to Felix.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

A/N: 3101 words. where have i been? don't worry about it. where have you been? anyways i hope you want some drama to sink your teeth into. went into a much different direction than the chapter outline i had for it. unedited, but would love to hear from you guys as i'm getting back into it!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Things have been quiet since Farleigh left. Was sent away. Whispered gossip and speculation between the Catton siblings and Oliver that you feel too strange to indulge in, and an ache in your chest that you feel like you're not allowed to talk about. For all his disappointment regarding Farleigh's betrayal of the family, Felix knows your own hurt runs far deeper than you will ever let on. Yes, the two of you fought often, and in time you all knew he'd be back, but this conflict had made your bond especially fragile, and in his absence you feared it may never again be what it once was.

And Oliver seems to pick up on it too.

"Are you going to prune all of his flowers too?" Oliver asks, sounding so casual, but his words catch you by surprise, and your expression drops as you turn to him. It's late, in the study together, and he's got one of your botany books open in his lap.

"Whose flowers?" You know who he means, but hate the very thought. You hope you'd misheard. You hope you're wrong, but you're not.

"Farleigh's."

"What makes you think that?" You ask, turning back to the textbook in front of you, laying open on the desk.

"I just mean... well after trying to go under the Catton's noses like he did," Oliver shrugs, like he can't see your growing upset at the reminder, can't see how your face has fallen. This Summer night feels so cold; many have since Farleigh had left.

"No," you tell him faintly, turning to the next page of your book, heart beating uncomfortably in your chest, "he's still family."

"Oh," Oliver doesn't say much more about it after that, nor does he stay all that long either.

"Zinnias," you murmur, face still turned to your book, when he goes to retire for the night. Oliver gives pause, and you tell him, "Farleigh's flowers are the zinnias; they look a bit like a sunset." Oliver doesn't have much of a response, other than telling you goodnight, but you weren't sure what you had been expecting otherwise.

He's somehow even quieter than usual in the wake of the scandal, but he clings to you and Felix now more than he doesn't, and you find yourself clinging to him too. He's been good enough to not bring up Farleigh's departure around you either, though he has taken Farleigh's usual seat beside you at the table. Honestly, you don't really mind; you'd rather that than the emptiness continue to remind you. Surprisingly it's Venetia who seems to have grown wary of him.

"You and Feef must be pleased," she languishes, her back against you in the bath next to her own room, perfumed steam turning golden in the candlelight, "mummy and daddy both like this one."

"Please don't talk about Ollie like that," you sighed, chin on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

"Daddy called him 'an intriguing, well-read, young man' the other day," Venetia continues as if she hadn't heard you at all, "and mummy called him charming and thoughtful, and much better than 'the last one'," she offers candidly, "she just liked that he liked my brother, I don't think she ever really cared for Eddie himself much," she leans back a little against you, and turns just enough that you can see her smirk at the corner of her lips, "you didn't either, did you? Even before everything happened between me and him?"

Lowering your face, you pressed your lips to her shoulder firmly, taking a moment to compose your thoughts before diplomatically telling her that Eddie didn't matter anymore. It does you no good to ask her why she's bringing this up now, but you still ask. As expected, Venetia ignores the question.

"Where did Eddie go after he was cast out? Rude, by the way," she adds, "he was fun," her tone is so jarringly light, though you know part of it is just to get a rise out of you. You don't take the bait.

"That was your mother's decision, not mine," you offer flatly.

"Did you have him killed?" Venetia's glee at the very idea was downright malicious, playing at sounding scandalised. You don't even want to humour her with a real response, just giving a flat, side-eye, "oh, don't give me that look, I'm sure your parents have plenty of people killed all the time."

"They don't -"

"Or they're just not telling you about it," she shrugs, pondering for a moment, "I think our family could get away with murder given the right circumstances, you know? But I could definitely see Pearl having critics murdered for negative reviews on a whim all the time," at her mention of your mother, your face scrunches up. Unfortunately she did have a point, but you hoped your parents, for all their sins, weren't actually that petty and vindictive.

"You're more my family then they are, Ven," you choose instead to say, and Venetia hummed, taking one of your hands beneath the water, lacing her fingers with yours.

"That's sweet as long as I don't think about it for more then a second," she giggled, tipping her head back against your shoulder, turning her face to yours with a mischievous smile, "but that still means you get one, and I'm asking if you and mummy had Feef's ex-boyfriend murdered and buried beneath the flowers in the fairy garden."

"If we'd had Eddie murdered - which we didn't - I wouldn't have had him used as fertiliser in the fairy garden," you tell her firmly, "my flowers deserve better than that." At that, Venetia snorted a laugh, leaning forward to grab her body wash. Sliding seamlessly to the other end of the tub, she begins to methodically wash herself, starting with her arms. There's little else to do but watch her; you don't want to encourage this conversation if you could help it, but you're not sure where to to go from here.

"He was really quite ghastly, wasn't he?" Venetia says suddenly, not even looking at you.

"What?" Your tone is immediately sharp.

"Eddie; he was awfully cruel to Felix," she elaborates casually, like she's completely unaffected by the sudden intensity of your gaze, "not outwardly," she muses, pausing in her scrubbing as she finally meets your gaze, her own thoughtful, "but, like, insidiously, beyond even cheating on him."

"With you," you remind her harshly, but there's an insistent earnestness in her expression that you really hadn't been expecting as she continues.

"With me, yes, but that's the thing," here she gives pause, as if searching for the right words, "he never talked about you or Felix," she finally says like she still can't quite believe it, "you I suppose I understand, but honestly it did always, I don't know, I suppose it irritated me how little he talked to you or even about you, even when he was around you. But it's like Felix didn't even exist either when he wasn't around him," with each word she speaks, her expression falls just a little more. This is all making you feel rather ill; you can't even bring yourself to want to try and comfort Venetia in some way as she seems so helpless and small with her thoughts fixed on the memory.

"I think I wanted to prove that not everything revolves around my brother," she admits softly, "but I suppose it would always be easy taking something he never really had." Her voice is so small when she turns her far away look upon you, "Eddie never really loved Felix, not really," it's not a question, "there was no regret about hurting him," she mutters bitterly, gaze drifting again. Venetia barks a rueful laugh, "you know he apologised to me? I know he's not dead," she admits, "he called after landing in America before I thought to block him, Summer wasn't even over, he didn't even mention Felix let alone ask if he was alright. I was fine!" She laughs angrily, and when she looks back at you, there's tears in her eyes, "but Felix was -" but it catches in her throat, and it's like she finally sees the hurt and anger in your eyes with all she's admitting to. Immediately her gaze drops, apologetic and self conscious for her self involved outburst given the circumstances; she knows she's not the victim.

Felix was shattered.

Venetia clears her throat suddenly, looking away. When she speaks, when she tells you that she knows you warned Oliver away from her, her tone is forcibly bright. But you can't speak. You don't want to be here, don't want to be around her right now. All of your suspicions about Eddie had been right in the end, and now she had to go ahead and bring up Oliver.

Venetia says your name softly, but you stand.

"I can't do this tonight, Venetia," you tell her coldly. It's a strange feeling, to hear her protest, to hear her almost beg for you to just look at her, but you can't do this tonight. After Eddie, you'd iced her out for the rest of that Summer, but she'd seemed contented; she'd won against Felix and so you were not required to keep her entertained. You'd never stood up to Venetia in any way that mattered before.

"Please," it comes out so small, so fragile sounding. Towel wrapped around yourself, you turn, expression hard as you're able to manage.

"Why?"

"So you do know he's lying," she mumbled uncomfortably, then, "I don't know," Venetia admits after a very long silence. Clutching the lip of the ornate tub, she looks almost like a child again, looking, for the first time in your memory, guilty.

"Is it just like last time? Taking something from Felix?" You accused, finally feeling that anger, that resentment beginning to burn in you, "was it better?" You hissed, "when you realised Ollie actually loves him? Or was it worse?"

"I thought if I could get him to look at me the way he looks at you, it'd prove he doesn't really love you," Venetia blurts out. Her gaze is on the floor, and you've gone entirely still. The next words she speaks are biting, full of frustration, "I hate him. I hate the way he looks at you. I don't care how he looks at Felix, everyone loves Felix."

Oh, there is was, unspoken behind her words. As long as Felix, and only Felix, had your heart, she knows she'll always have you around. If Oliver manages to steal your heart, she's afraid that you'll choose him, and she and Felix will both lose you. Her understanding of it all is childish at best; can't she sees that you're capable of so much more than that. You've never conformed to binary choices like that; doesn't she know you better?

"I'll never forgive you if you fall in love with him," she tells you as you reach the door.

"You'll learn to live with it."

With each step back to your room, that hollow feeling in your chest keeps gnawing at you from the inside out. Shielded from the world by only a towel, you feel, for the first time in a long time, you feel too exposed as you roam the halls of the Saltburn Estate. Farleigh had called you spineless, said you'd let Oliver break Felix's heart, and now he's gone. Venetia had so hated the idea of anyone else loving you that she'd tried to facilitate that heartbreak herself, and now you're leaving her behind. All this for Oliver Quick, for the idea of a boy who might love Felix the way you knows he deserves. But even so, Oliver had been party to Venetia's cruelty against you and Felix, had lied about it, had made you complicit when you'd seen through that lie.

Anything to make sure Felix was happy. That's how you justified your own, whether it be indirect or not, cruelty to those around you. But he'd hurt so much more in the long run; the writing was on the walls.

The moment you step into his room, he turns, surprised. He's on the balcony, half folded into one of the wicker chairs, reading and smoking and looking like a dream. Before you even say anything, he knows something is wrong. When he asks, you can't answer, moving almost robotically to change back into your pyjamas.

"I think I need to talk to Ollie," you mumbled without thinking when Felix takes your face in his hands. You barely see him, still stuck in your own head. He frowns, asks why, asks what's wrong, and the care in his voice brings you out of your trance-like state. Swallowing hard when you finally look him in the eyes, your resolve begins to crumble, "I want to know why he did what he did before I tell you," you admit, voice barely a whisper. Felix's expression darkens for a moment, and his hands move from your face to hold you by the shoulders. It grounds you, but the look in his eyes makes your heart ache.

"What did he do?"

"It's different from last time," you shook your head, already trying to soften the blow for what you're about to admit, "Ollie actually loves you, I don't know why he did it." Pressing your forehead to his shoulder, you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes in this moment.

"What did he do?"

"I need to know why he did it," is all you can manage; you can feel yourself beginning to break, "I need to talk to him, I need to ask, I need to know, because that's the only fucking piece left; why?" Pulling back, away from him, you sink down onto the end of the bed, your face in your shaking hands.

"I know why she did it," you finally admit, "I wish I didn't, but I do. I hate her," comes out through your teeth, bitter and anguished all at once.

"Venetia?"

"They've been lying to you, Felix," you choke out, "been lying to your face, because they love you." All you can do is hope that it's true, "it's why she did it, she couldn't stand the thought of someone else loving me, because she thought if I loved him back, I'd choose him over you, and she wouldn't have me around anymore."

"Vee and Ollie?" Felix already sounds heartbroken when he whispers the words. Without looking at him, you nod. The awful, ugly truth, finally, "and you knew?"

"Ollie pretty much admitted it when I didn't believe his lie; he knows I trust Farleigh with my life," you breathed, finally looking up at him, apology in your eyes. Felix looks as though his world is crashing around him. Again, "since I was the one who saw Ven and Eddie together last year, not him." Felix's eyes go wide at this, stepping back, only to starts pacing, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't believe him?" Felix huffs as he tries to process everything.

"Because I've been trying to find a way to make you believe that what happened isn't like last time."

"But it is!" Felix finally snaps, stopping dead, "I don't want to do this again," his voice cracks, and when he turns to you, there's tears in his eyes, "how can you say it's not?" It's almost pleading, desperate for any kind of hope.

"Because he loves you!"

Immediately, both of your eyes are on the door to the bathroom, holding your breath, fearing Ollie himself may have heard your outburst, may be listening in. You're fairly certain he's not, but your heart is still in your throat.

"I know he loves you, Felix," you finally breathe, hanging your head, "you know he loves you."

"Then why would he -"

"I don't know," you reiterate, desperately, "it's why I need to talk to him." In the quiet, Felix takes deep, shaking breaths, before he sits on the floor before you, legs crossed, his forehead braced against your knee.

"I don't want you to go through that again," you tell him softly, sincerely, carding your fingers through his soft, dark hair.

"We could run away," Felix whispers faintly, echoing words you'd spoken to him just a week ago, when you'd been first dealing with this whole situation and hadn't wanted to admit the truth then either, "like you suggested; get a flat in London, never go back to Oxford, never speak to any of them again," when he looks up, resting his chin on your knee, you see the sadness in his eyes despite his soft smile, "just us."

You both know it's an impossible dream, but still, you huff a soft laugh, your thumb brushing his cheek as you cradle his face tenderly.

"Okay, just us; that's all I'll ever need."

His smile grows just a little wider, leaning into your touch and this moment. But the moment, the idle dream, it has to come to an end. Felix's face falls once more.

"You love him," he sighs gently, mouth pressed into a thin line, "I love him, Y/N," he sounds so helplessly, "I wish I didn't, but I do. I love Oliver Quick, and he's going to break my fucking heart, isn't he?"

"He loves you too, Fi," you assured him gently, "that's why he lied, why..." you take a deep, guilty breath, "why I didn't tell you."

"What the could he even say to salvage this; you warned him about Venetia. The more I think about it, the more I- I- I fucking hate it. Them."

"I don't want you to talk to him," he tells you quietly, his voice calm and serious as he speaks over your protests, "I don't like that you had to do this, that you felt like you had to do this for me. Let me talk to him."

"Fi -"

"You make me happy," he tells you firmly, "everything you do makes me happy; you don't need to do this. Even if me talking to Oliver doesn't make you happy, at the very least, let me do what I can; I want to make sure you're never unhappy for my benefit. I want you to be happy too, I hope you know that."

All your protests die in your throat.

"I do, Fi."

"Then let me do this. This is my relationship too, you don't have to do all of this alone."

[whyshedisappeared]

.

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: The boys as parents

Warning: Long post ahead! 3.7K words in total! reader is MC! f!reader, AFAB!reader, implied abortion

Author's note: I went a little too overboard and specific with this one... IDK if you guys will like it. Might make a part 2/Individual fics it this post does well!

Zayne as a father:

He became a parent to 2 kids, both adopted. The eldest is a boy, and the youngest is a girl.

After a life-threatening complication when you were pregnant (it involved the problem in your heart, you and your husband decided to adopt instead. The first was a 4-year-old boy and, later on, a 2-year-old girl from an island near Linkon City.

Zayne works hard as a chief surgeon; even then, the pay at AKSO Hospital is no joke. Despite preparing more than enough money to live comfortably with a child, something within him fueled his desire to do better: before you got married, he worked hard to become a part of the Hospital's board of directors. This allowed him to control his time more and spend fewer hours working.

When you and Zayne adopted your first boy, a 4-year-old named Elias, you met him as a quiet little boy which you found working hard to try and read an outdated newspaper on the island. A few months later, you discovered your now-son's interests in academics and learning. Zayne was pleasantly surprised to see his little boy eager to learn about things outside of the island, so much so that the chief surgeon almost immediately registered him to enter formal schooling.

Most people would assume that, like himself, he expected his son to achieve great things in school, but on some school nights, before bedtime, Zayne would talk to your son. "You're doing well in school, Elias. But don't forget to have fun." You thought Zayne would never really have time to visit your son's plays and school activities. Still, much to your surprise, he was there for most of it, especially in events where your son is involved. It was such a comedic sight watching your husband hold a noncellular camera.

Being a part of the hospital board of directors meant long and lengthy meetings, so there were times when he still had to work late and leave beyond working hours. Sometimes, you let your son stay up and accompany you to pick up your husband. Of course, that's also to buy a hotpot for a midnight snack on the way. There were also times when you and your son would fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He quickly picks you up and places you on his bed, tucking you and himself five minutes later. The next thing you know, it's morning, and the smell of waffles is wafting in the air.

He wasn't outwardly affectionate, but it's more than evident that he loves his son. He praises him to his colleagues (unknowingly), and he gives him gifts, and the cost doesn't matter. But sometimes, he shows love to his child through words, Complimenting his son's actions and skills.

He rarely scolds his son as he's the less strict parent. Your dynamic is the type where if you don't allow your son to go do something, he'll call his dad for backup. You almost always give in. Zayne never really puts his hand on his son. Instead, he opts for a more, face-the-consequence-of-your-actions type of dad. He lets his son be and ensures Elias learns that there are things he can't and shouldn't do. On more bad days, when your son is extremely hard-headed, Zayne will tell him what to do.

A few years later, despite many ups and downs, both of you decided to adopt from the same island again. It was a year-old infant named Penelope who was handed to the orphanage due to the death of her mother.

Between the two of you, Zayne was the one who fell in love first. He never expected to be a girl dad, and he didn't think too much of it until he saw her in your arms. The first thing she did was grab his finger and giggle, looking so beautiful against the island's sunset.

When she grew a bit older, Zayne became fond of how she began to resemble you in terms of actions and personality. She was undoubtedly the type of kid to make a fuss about the little things and act cunningly to get her way and, at the same time, not cry over the things that made her sad or hurt her.

She was often seen with you and clinging to you if not Elias. With her, things were an unspoken competition between Elias and Zayne. He was her first in many things: first dance, first time riding a bike, and first parent to be called by her, except for the first kiss. Her first kiss was given to his older brother, and it was on the forehead. Zayne sulked for the rest of the day while your son held that against him, stating that his little sister loves him more than his dad.

Despite this, Zayne and Elias developed another thing, an unspoken urge to protect the little girl. It may not seem like it, but Elias always focuses on Penelope, ensuring she's doing alright in school and having fun. Zayne sometimes sneaks into the daycare to peek at her daughter's condition. On Zayne's day off, Elias would tell stories about what Penelope does on a day-to-day basis. Thanks to his son, he was well-versed in her daughter's life events despite working a lot in the Hospital.

Xavier as a father:

Xavier is a father to one male child.

It was an unplanned pregnancy, which you only realized when you had your Quarterly checkup at headquarters. The doctor ruled you unfit to work on the field because you were carrying a month-old baby. You gagged at the news, and on the same day, you told Xavier. He just stared at you and turned red.

Xavier was…enthusiastic(?) with your pregnancy. Despite being the type not to really change when you were pregnant, he was always on guard and on your beck and call, buying out whatever cravings you had, even at midnight or on a rainy day (He was the one having cravings; You settled with whatever food you had in the house.)

While you were at home resting with him, you observed his behavior change. He was more silent than usual, looking out of the window; when you asked, he told you that his having a child felt like a fever dream. Xavier was unprepared to be a father but willing to learn. His trove of light novels and comic books slowly began to be invaded by parent magazines and guidebooks on caring for an infant. If he has some day off, he will be by your side to help you do stuff around the house or attend parenting classes behind your back.

When you gave birth, even through the amniotic fluid and white stuff covering the child, you could easily see that he was a pure carbon copy of Xavier. There was no part of the little baby that resembled you at all. Both in physical appearance and in attitude. Xavier cried tears of joy upon seeing your child born, albeit he never showed anyone his crying face. You know he did because his eyes and nose were puffier than usual.

The baby was quiet; it coos, plays with its saliva, and asks for a lot of milk, but I rarely cry. The only time it cries is if a loud sound is disturbing it from sleeping. And even when he cries, gently tapping and lulling him within five minutes will stop the little guy from crying.

The baby was attached to him. The baby would unknowingly leer towards him whenever he was around, asking to be picked up, to which Xavier would happily do so. He was a sleepy child and liked to nap even in broad daylight. He was easily fed and didn't put up much of a fight, even in his older years.

At the age of three, it was the beginning period where his little meek personality began to change. The kid was adventurous and the curious type. He was often found in his own world observing the little things in life, like a trail of ants or a kitten atop a tree branch, yet it seemed like he was curious to learn more things. He liked to observe from up close, which is why he was often seen on tiptoes trying to look over a lot of stuff or squatting down to observe the smaller insects on the ground.

To help him foster his talents and strengths, Xavier brings him to the headquarters once a week to let him run around and train. You were against it initially, but seeing your little boy imitate his father with clumsy focus made your heart swoon. A few years later. The kid was in school; Xavier was the one who attended the boy's school activities as you had to work most of the time, leading a team of your own.

He was doing well compared to the average students in school. Still, the teacher complained that the little boy kept sleeping in class, often getting him scolded and demerit. Xavier scratched his head and apologized, saying the little boy must've been exhausted after midnight play-dates with him.

Xavier keeps physical albums in his home, one for the family, one for you and him, and one dedicated to your child's life. Much to your surprise, he was more hands-on with his child than you might expect. Xavier never lets you carry your son for too long; he's afraid that you would collapse from exhaustion. He'd also be the one to put him to sleep, almost always falling asleep with his own son.

He's not the type to gift his child physical things (he still does occasionally). He would prefer to take you guys out to different locations, like a new arcade, a new park, or a place where your son could explore freely and safely. Xavier adores his child and keeps a photo of him on his lock screen. On his desk is a family picture of you and him that you take every year.

Xavier was the favorite parent when the little boy grew up because he was calmer, more collected, and the cooler one between you two. It's not that you weren't, but you know how boys are. Xavier tells his son many stories that he passes off as "fairytales" when, in reality, it was actually his real adventures in the decades he has lived and worked. But his favorite ones were when he and you fought against the wanderers side to side.

Needless to say, Xavier was a role model and a doting father. Because his appearance never really changed, at some point in the far future, he would be mistaken as the little boy's twin brother instead. It became a running joke in your family, so much so that out of pity, your son decided to dye his hair a different color to make him distinguishable.

Xavier and your son continued to have a boss and subordinate relationship in the hunter's association, which a lot of people really admired. On the other hand, you ran the bigger team and were on the field most of the time. Memories of regular days are filled with seeing each other in the medical Bay, on the field, or in a restaurant after a long fight on the field.

Rafayel as a father:

Father to two girls.

Rafayel's baby was not planned. In fact, he never believed you were pregnant until he saw signs of your body changing, especially the morning sickness and cravings. It's not that he didn't want to be a father, but it was simply too sudden for him, and he couldn't absorb it well.

He went a little overboard in preparation, hoarding many little clothes that your child would definitely outgrow. He brags about your pregnancy to many people, saying he's excited to be a father and always wanted a family of his own. People congratulate you a lot, even if you don't know who they are. On random days, you keep getting mail for some reason, and it's oversized packages: bassinets, branded feeding bottles, bottle steamers, and a box full of infant diapers. Safe to say, you really didn't need to buy a lot of things for your little passenger.

Unlike you, who was pretty lenient in designing the bedroom for your daughter, he was nit-picky as hell. The interior designer and suppliers had a hard time dealing with your husband, and you could only apologize secretly on his behalf. Nonetheless, the room turned out to be more beautiful than you expected.

When the baby arrived, he was crying, but he denied it. Yet everyone in the room could see him cry like a diva. Everyone wanted to see the baby, and so did your friends. Still, to your surprise, Rafayel refrained from letting anyone visit you for fear of the infant contracting any diseases from the visitors.

You decided to name her Anastasia. He was undeniably meant to be a girl dad. There was no day in the week when the little baby was dressed poorly. She would always wear on-brand clothes; even simple pajamas cost more than they should. He bought her dolls, stuffed toys, and those big dollhouses collectors buy.

When the little baby girl grew up and began to attend school, Rafayel would always ask for a kiss on the cheek, which your daughter would happily give.

Rafayel likes to gossip with you and your daughter, and he is a good source of news because he always knows the juicier side of stories. With your daughter, he knows the reputation of each and every parent. Sometimes, they go too far and pick on your daughter's classmates, e.g., telling them that their clothes are old-fashioned or that one kid looks like a mean bully. The bad thing is, your daughter thinks so as well. You and Rafayel once went to her sports day competition and saw her play a three-legged race partnered with a boy. You could see the smoke coming out of Rafayel's head, and you had to cover his mouth because he was uttering profanities. Something like: "Get your hands off my daughter, you little…"

Raf likes to give gifts as a sign of affection, and your daughter is thankful, but on special days, she doesn't request anything. Instead, she insists on having a dad-daughter date instead. Thanks to those moments, Raf began to lean more towards spending time together rather than showering her with gifts.

She grew up replicating Rafayel's diva-ness as her form of humor, and she usually tries to get away with stuff using that method. But she was family-oriented, being the type to show affection outwardly. She most definitely became a daddy's girl and would always go to him for help.

Later on, when your first child reached her teen years, you decided to have another child, and this time, it was a girl whom you named Charlotte. Rafayel was more tamed with the room decoration this time, but not with the gifts and outfits. He didn't allow any secondhand items from Anastasia to be given to the younger one.

Rafayel, despite already being a seasoned dad, was more overprotective with his second daughter, hiring a nanny for her. He would be restless if he didn't manage to see her for two days, so he refrained from going out of town unless necessary. If he did, however, he would always call you and ask how Charlotte was doing. You would turn the phone to your daughter, but she wouldn't pay him any mind and continue coloring in her little notebook.

Unlike Anastasia, Charlotte preferred to be with you. She was the more reserved of the two siblings, but she was mature for her age. She knew what she wanted and would outwardly deny if whatever she was doing or receiving was not to her liking. She wasn't that dramatic and would just stare at her sister or father whenever they exaggerated their emotions in front of her.

Sometimes, you and Charlotte just like to watch your other daughter and your husband act all dramatic. Then you just brush them off and spend your day drinking tea and eating cupcakes.

Sylus as a father

Sylus is the father of twins. One boy, one girl.

You weren't married when you found out you were pregnant; you were his lover by then, but you were severely unprepared to have children, considering the environment you guys were in. You got married in secret, and he made a promise to protect you and your children despite living in the N109 zone.

Upon the birth of your children, he was mainly on edge. He got you the best doctors and midwives. Although your birth was surprisingly smooth sailing, you heard some stories from the nurses nearby about how Sylus was threatening a doctor if you ended up with complications. Thankfully, the twins were delivered safely.

Between the twins, the eldest is a girl you named Mauve, and the boy, Claude. Mauve had your eyes, but his hair color was daunting, and he had a more pale skin tone, while Claude resembled you more than Sylus, except for his eyes.

Sylus didn't care much for the children; he made that apparent by focusing more on you and his work and leaving the kids to the nanny. That quickly changed after six months. On a random day, he saw you tending to your children, both sleeping soundly in your arms. You seemed at peace inside the bedroom, looking out into the distance. Something switched inside of Sylus, which neither of you can point out, but there was one thing for sure: You guys were now a family.

The mindset change perplexed you the most because, beginning that day, Sylus made a quiet effort to learn how to take care of the twins. He was often seen with the nanny, asking for specific methods of washing the feeding bottles or bathing the twins. And in no less than a month, he was practically the one taking care of your children whenever he was at home.

Sylus doesn't spoil his children more than necessary. Sure, they had rooms of their own and a decent amount of toys, branded items, and clothes, but he only gave them a little more than necessary. He firmly believes that children should learn to work hard at an early age to not get disappointed in the future; you scolded him for that, though, after all, they were just children.

Sylus always plays with his children whenever he can. He doesn't like it when family time is interrupted by business, so he ensures no one disturbs the residence until you and the children have had enough fun. His play methods are surprisingly tame and even comedic; after all, the sight of Sylus dawning twin-tails and stickers on his face doesn't come by that often. On days when he's out of town, Luke and Kieran are the ones who play with the children, and not even they can withstand the dress-up and role-play.

Whenever things get complicated in the organization, or even a hint of danger lurks around the family, Sylus sends you and the children away to a residence under a different name. It was located on a more private island, which only his private jet could access. Then, he deals with the problem as swiftly as possible.

A few more years later, Sylus changed. His principle of hard work equals good rewards shifted, and he slowly began to spoil the twins. They were spoiled, but it was surprising that they were obedient. That is until you spied around them when you were supposed to be at work. It was thanks to this that you realized another thing: Sylus is the type of father who says, "I can't do anything, your mother said no. Sorry, kids." when you're around and "C'mon kids, who will scold you? Your mom is at work, and I'm the parent in charge!" when you're not.

Thanks to this, you also discovered the real nature of your children behind the nice, good children facade.

They were naughty: They liked to play pranks on your husband, but Sylus always outsmarts them. You constantly wondered where they were picking up these silly pranks until you saw them huddled together with Luke and Kieran in a random corner of the house.

The twins were cunning: They greeted guests with a smile and treated maids with care, but they sneaked around the staff room and reported to Sylus what they heard. Once, they broke a vase and convinced you that Mephisto did it.

They were eccentric: The smiles on their faces were business smiles whenever other people were around. Note they were smiling ear to ear, but their smile was unsettling once you realized that you had entered the house of Onichynus' leader. It was almost threatening even.

Sylus, despite not looking like it, valued education as he believed it could give his children an advantage. Still, he'd let his children be street-smart rather than book-smart. Because of this belief, he would bring his children around for business meetings and less dangerous missions. You once argued with him over the twins' safety. Still, they reassured you that they're more than capable of protecting themselves.

A few years later, into adulthood, Claude was quietly regarded as a lethal weapon due to his proficiency in engineering (nuclear & Chemical) and in statistics; His background and frightening loyalty to his father and Onychinus amplified the organization's fearsome reputation.

On the other hand, Mauve was the front of Onychinus, often leaving the country to make business deals on behalf of his father, who was busy working at home. The woman was responsible. She was undoubtedly a gambler who believed high stakes = high rewards, yet she had never once lost that gamble.

But when you and your family get together for dinner every week, it's like they're the most mundane family ever, talking about what they hear out on the street and what the new neighbors are up to or what new places to visit in Linkon City. You just…came to accept it.

Author's footnotes: Alright this post is too long for my own liking but it would be longer if I go in depth about your family details. and at this point, this is like an AU... Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

MASTER LIST | Buy me a thread?

[ashwhowrites]

Hello! I'm so happy your request are open 💜

I was thinking about Eddie Munson x reader, friends to lovers trope but from Eddie's perspective.

And he's enamored how reader spends time with him in public without hesitation. And he never has experience friendship with woman without them trying to get weed or prank him.

Oh I'd love to see Wayne and reader becoming friends and team up to take care of Eddie daily like remaining him about eating or wearing gloves during winter ❤️

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

To be loved

Eddie had a small group of friends and that was enough to make him happy. Even if one of his friends was his uncle Wayne. Eddie had two best friends, Gareth and Y/N.

Y/N was the only girl Eddie felt safe with. She was the first person to be his friend and treat him like one. She didn't use him for weed, or play pranks on him to get the laughs of others. She was genuine and sweet.

She brought a lot of happiness into his life and he was embarrassed to admit he was in awe of everything she did, even if it was the bare minimum. She wasn't afraid to be in public with him, she didn't make them hang out in dark places and go out past sunset. She didn't care and that made him feel special.

~~~

The first time Eddie brought her home, Wayne was convinced it was his girlfriend. Eddie kept denying it but Wayne never believed him. He figured Eddie wanted to keep the relationship secret since he was private about his life.

But the more Wayne saw them together, the clearer it became that they were just friends—for now, at least.

~

"Are you going to the dance next week?" Gareth asked as he helped Eddie pick up the campaign.

"I don't see a reason to," Eddie shrugged, school dances were not his thing. "What's up?"

"I don't plan to go either, so I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at my place and get drunk," Gareth asked

"Sounds good to me," Eddie smiled. He bid his goodbyes to Gareth and headed home.

He wasn't surprised to see Y/N waiting for him on his couch. Wayne gave her a key and she accepted the free regins of their home.

"Dinner is in the fridge," she said, not looking up from the TV.

Eddie smiled, threw his bags on the floor, and walked to the fridge. He heated up his food and then joined her on the couch. Wayne popped out of his bedroom, looking at the two.

"Just making sure you ate," Wayne said

"I got him," Y/N smiled, ruffling Eddie's hair. He smacked her hand away as he finished his last bite. His heart felt warm knowing they cared about him to check if he ate.

~

"It is so fucking cold," Y/N groaned as she raced to Eddie's van. She cranked Eddie's heat up and waited for him to finish his final class. It only took a few minutes before the door opened and Eddie's snow-covered body jumped in.

"Fuck I hate winter," Eddie groaned, he put his cold hands in front of his vents. Y/N noticed that he wasn't wearing gloves.

"Edward, where are the gloves I bought you?" Y/N asked

"Probably in a pile of my clothes on my bedroom floor," Eddie said with a toothy smile, hoping she'd cut him some slack.

She rolled her eyes and opened his glove department, grabbing a pair of gloves and throwing them on his lap.

"Good thing I have a spare," she smiled

"What would I do without you?" he said, putting on the gloves. He reached over and kissed her cheek. He couldn't help but feel his heart race at the thought of her caring about him.

~

Eddie was half asleep when he felt Y/N shaking him awake.

"Yes?" he asked, his eyes still closed as he felt sleep calling.

"You know about that dance? The one this weekend," she whispered. The room was dark and she tried to talk in the direction of his face.

Eddie made a humming noise

"Will you go with me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. But Eddie heard it, and his heart raced. He opened his eyes and reached to turn on his lamp.

"Like friends, or like a date?" He wanted her to say a date. He usually saw her as a friend, but lately he couldn't help but want something more. He hasn't felt love in years and she was full of it, all of it for him.

"Um whichever you feel comfortable with," she shrugged. "I don't want to make us awkward."

Eddie nervously played with his fingers and cleared his throat. "I also wouldn't want to make anything awkward. And I hope I don't by saying that I want to go as more than friends." He wouldn't look up from his hands.

Y/N smiled and scooted closer to him in the bed. She reached for his chin and brought his head up. He felt his face heat up from her touch. He looked into her eyes and wondered how he never noticed how flawless she was.

"I also want to go as more than friends," she said. Moving her hand to hold the back of his neck. He shivered and goosebumps filled his skin. He couldn't help himself from looking down at her lips.

"Do you want to kiss me?" She whispered, her eyes looking at his lips. He kept his eyes on her lips, licking his own as he nodded.

"Yes, please,"

She giggled at his manners and leaned in, pressing her lips against his. He moved his hands to her hips and kissed her back. He couldn't believe he was kissing his best friend and damn it felt amazing. He wished he was doing this the whole time.

She pulled away and Eddie couldn't help but chase her lips. She giggled again, the sound making him smile as he pulled her into his body.

"I got to do one thing," Eddie said, keeping his arm around her as he reached over and grabbed the phone on his nightstand.

"Who are you calling?" Y/N asked

"Yo, Gareth? I gotta cancel our plans."

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxthx @ineedmentalhelp123

[werecreature-addicted]

I have been waiting for this! This has been stuck in my head since you mentioned how there's too many werewolf x bunny fics.

Imagine there's a village of prey hybrids. All the villagers that live there are some kind of prey animal.

The village is very peaceful, but is the target of a tribe of predator hybrids that dwell in the deepest part of the forest.

Every year, these predator hybrids would attack the prey village and would kidnap any villager unlucky enough to be caught.

These attacks typically happen around mid to late spring, from dusk to well into the night.

The prey villagers always hide around this time, but at least one to three people end up being taken.

Last year was one of the reader's friends. A sweet little sheep that was said to be taken by a large male black wolf. Poor girl was likely eaten by that horrible beast! (In a way she was eaten~)

This year, it is reader's turn.

Reader is a deer hybrid that got caught while out gathering food in the forest. Only to be jumped by a strong and handsome male mountain lion hybrid and taken back to his tribe.

There reader finds her friend as well as other people from her village, all well and alive and with large clearly pregnant bellies as well as a few children.

Turns out the predator tribe has been taking people from your village as their mates. Even treating their prey mates with the utmost care.

Something the reader will understand fully once she's been bred with her first litter of cubs.

your parents had always warned you to be careful when you left the safety of the village, especially during spring when nearby predators would go into heat and kill little deer girls like you to feed to keep up their strength. You were so careful, the fastest in the herd, the best at running away, no predator could ever catch you....other people weren't so lucky. Every year a few people would go missing, trail too close to the border, stay out foraging after sunset, and disappear.

Most of the time, you don't know the prey who gets taken, but sometimes you do, like when your best friend got dragged off by a horrifying wolf. You grieved the loss of your friend and redoubled your commitment to safety... but you got cocky. you were the fastest in your age group, no one could catch you, especially not some heavy, slow predator.

It's a warm spring evening, the breeze gentle and sweet, smelling like honeysuckle and green grass. the sunsets casting the valley in golden light, your basket is full of fat wild blackberries. how could anything go wrong on a day like this? A twig snaps to your right, and you turn and freeze, looking carefully at the tree line. you don't see anything... but your heart is still racing, by the time you spot the hungry green eyes peering up at you it's already too late. you take off running, but for once, you aren't fast enough.

The mountain lion pounces and lifts you off of your feet, throwing you easily over his broad shoulders, you freeze, your heart beating faster and faster, you need to think, he hasn't killed and eaten you yet- maybe you could escape, you just need to keep your head.

It's a much shorter journey to the preditor village than you would have thought, you'd never traveled far from home so you had no idea that they were so close this whole time. What's even more surprising is the amount of prey animals, wandering around town and looking happy. A rabbit boy with big floppy ears hanging off the arm of a buff-looking wolf, a deer hybrid like yourself flirting with two different lions, and a sheep- a sheep that you recognize. Your eyes go wide as it clicks into place. the people being taken weren't being killed at all.

The mountain lion puts you down and looks at you closely, evaluating you. "I wasn't too rough was I? You're not hurt?" he asks. you shake your head slowly

"n-no. I'm not hurt just- scared," you admit shyly. He nuzzles you comfortingly,

"awe, don't worry my mate, I'll keep you safe... I won't let anything happen to you, no one else will touch you while you're with me," he purrs and you shift, embarrassed to tell him that it was him you were afraid of. although you had to admit if this big scary mountain lion is guarding you, and claiming you as their mate, you do feel a little safer.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Sun

Ewan Mitchell x girlfriend!reader

special thanks to @clarkysblog for the request!

masterlist

The reader and Ewan are on holiday for their two-year anniversary 💙

"Ewan!" The boy is getting on your nerves. "Would you come here and enjoy the sunset with me? Put your bloody phone down."

He doesn't listen. Predictable. "Juuust a couple more, babe. You look so beautiful in this light, wait til you see this." Standing a few feet to your right, he snaps photo after photo as you lay down on the sun lounger. Clad in nothing but your favourite swimwear, the one that got you in trouble the moment Ewan saw you in it.

The one that made you two late to your lunch reservation, causing the hostess to shoot daggers at you when you even dared to arrive. It didn't help that Ewan was pawing at you the whole time in front of her, nipping at your neck, still on a high from your untimely midday activities.

"I have seen the pictures," you say. "You've taken like 500 of them."

"I need a new wallpaper," he simply shrugs. "And my girl looks gorgeous all the time, can you blame me?"

"Smooth talker," you mumble, putting on your sunglasses to hide how flustered he can still make you feel.

It's your 2-year anniversary and he pulled no stops, surprising you with a holiday in Marbella. Everything was perfect - the beach, the villa, the local community. If only he would look around and enjoy it, but you're worried that his eyes are perpetually glued to you.

Not that you're complaining or anything.

Well, you are kinda. You just did. But you love it all.

You love him.

And he shows you just how much he loves you when you feel his delicate kisses just above your knee, pulling you from your drowsy sundrunk state. He has finally abandoned his crusade to take as many pictures of you as possible, but instead of heading to his own lounger, he hovers over you with his legs encasing your body.

"Hey there," he smiles, taking your sunglasses off and kissing you right between the eyes. "Dozing off, my love?"

"Mmm, you were taking too long."

There it is, as sure as the sun in the sky, that cheeky smile. "I know how we can wake you up."

"Huh?"

He kisses your neck.

"Ewan!" This boy is going to be the death of you. "Not out here."

He grumbles, nose buried in the crook of your neck, "It's a private villa."

"It's still out in the open. There could be papparazzi sneaking out on boats!"

"There - " a kiss against your mouth " - aren't any - " another on the tip of your nose " - I made sure of it, my love."

You moan in protest, "You're so distracted, babe. Don't you want to just lay out in the sunset for now? It's really pretty."

"Hmm." He tilts his head in thought. Okay, Aemond. "You're my sun, my love."

Oh, for fuck's sake, this boy.

You grow flushed in an instant, making you bite your lip. "You're just saying that to get laid," you tease him.

"No," he says immediately, followed by, "did it work anyway?"

Did it work, he asks.

You pull him close and give him an answer.

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── ☆ ⁺彡 nct dream as spiderman !

if you saw it the first time, no you didn't! 🫵😭 reposting this again to add something i missed in the first one. happy reading!! library.

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ mark: ultimate spiderman. broken specs and lame excuses. eating a sandwich against a skyscraper. homemade suit. attracting things with his webs (esp. you). quick reflex. stuttering. with great power comes great responsibility. yapping his adventures. “i can do this all day” energy. stacks of books and scrapped formulas for new types of web fluid. atlas carrying the weight of the world. falling in love with your best friend. stay up late saving the world... or the semester. confession on the roof of a building at sunset.

you're deposited at the top of a skyscraper with your heart beating a thousand times an hour thanks to the adrenaline sedating your senses. you feel dizzy... and alive as you catch your breath, bathing in the evening light where a masked man stands in front of you. he helps you regain your balance as you hear him laugh, his voice blown by the same wind that ruffles your hair. “yn.”

you're unable to react when your senses are drunk with the rush of joy, which is hard for you to catch the hesitation in his voice. “yes?”

you see him take off his mask and your breath freezes in your throat the moment he appears in front of you. mark, your lab partner. sunset bathes his face with a golden halo outlining his features and the light finds its way to his eyes, holding a plead.

“you know… it's okay if you like only spiderman.” he chuckles awkwardly and brushes his neck, “well, actually, spiderman is me, uh… but… i couldn't just let you kiss me if you didn't know it was me, in case it bothers you, i hope not. i hope you don't think i'm a creep or that i forcibly kissed you… actually, you kissed me..., well maybe it was bad that i kept going after you did, but i like you so maybe i did take advantage of the situation a little...—”

the last thing you notice is his eyes opening almost as soon as it takes for your feet to snap out of place and launch you towards him. his arms are waiting to hold you almost immediately and while you might be surprised by his quick reflexes, you can hardly think properly when you join your lips with his.

mark looks at you in awe before a smile rises on his lips as you smile. “spiderman, i'm so sorry, but i like someone.”

gloom tints his eyes, “do you?”

you hum, and even though you're kinda rejecting him, he lets you wrap your arms tighter around his neck. “his name is mark lee. and he's my lab partner before he's new york's friendly neighbor.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ haechan: spiderman by accident. anti-hero. wired headphones. a random stop at a gas station for snacks. bruises and cuts. original anomaly. boyish teasing. upside down kiss. across the spiderverse suit. street smart. smugly comments. sneaking out after being grounded. “he looks worse than me.” grimaces when you cure a ugly looking wound. piles of love letters from admirers. quiet confession while you cure his wounds. strawberry lollipop. enemies to lovers. stay up for a late night swinging around the city with you.

the knocks on your window, though light (as if the person was instantly regretting it) were enough wake you up as you rushed out to open it.

on the other side awaited you an elusive shadow that remained static until you took his hand and ushered him into your room, and the night light finally caught his shattered suit.

“i had nowhere else to go, did i wake you?” his voice is soft and hoarse, and you really give him points for downplaying it when he repress flinchling when you touch the purple scrape on his chin. “it's not that bad.”

you make him sit up in bed and find it funny how he tries to do it because he starts stirring as if he's afraid of ruining the sheets. “i'll treat them.”

“don't bother.” he makes a pretense of continuing to talk until he notices the severity on your face and your decision to do so, and more importantly, notice how your eyes run all over his body taking into account all the cuts that show the destroyed suit on his skin. “he looks worse than me.”

you frown y and avoid looking so affected, keeping yourself busy looking for the gauze and alcohol, and then sitting next to him to begin healing the cuts on his chest. you work slowly and carefully, he doesn't say anything until you finish.

his hands grasp yours when you falter as they brush against his neck. “i'd like to keep it on.”

“is it because you don't trust me?”

“it's because i'm scared you won't like me once you find out who i am.” his voice comes to you so soft and low.

you seek his eyes, you make him see. your feelings, your emotions; you take his hand and guide it to your heart. “i'll never stop liking you, lee donghyuck.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jaemin: the sidekick who got superpowers. quiet extrovert's best friend. admiring the view of the setting sun. saving a kitten from a tree. visit at a nursing home. bingo in the afternoons. villains are friendly with him. classic suit. backward cap. funny clapbacks. “oh, it's just a scratch.” (frozen steak in black eye). subway ride home. eepy cats on a windowsill watching the falling snow. love at first sight. romantic telerage signal on the brooklyn bridge.

you had noticed that jaemin was acting strangely lately, but you couldn't imagine what you were about to discover when the screen of your phone showed his name. with a sigh, you answered, bracing yourself for another conversation full of excuses and evasions.

you kept moving down the crowded catwalk self-absorbed and a little troubled. "jaemin, we need to talk about—”

“yn, please, can you look to your right?” he interrupts with his voice full of nervousness and excitement.

confused but intrigued, you sigh and look to your side as your gaze took over the sunset of the city and the brooklyn bridge, taking up all the space, and just at that moment you notice that you were walking in a sea of static people, looking in amazement at a giant message formed by cobwebs that said: "i love you.”

the phone line remain silent until his calm voice fill your ears. “do you like it?”

your mouth feels dry and you can't string something coherent. between surprise and charm, you can barely articulate words. “are you friends with spiderman?!”

“what- no! better.”

better. does that mean… “are you his sidekick?!” that would explain why he has been absent from your date. that'd explain it all.

he laughs, and you sense a bit of struggle in his voice. “look left now.”

at that precise moment, a figure descends from the sky and with a jerk his arm wraps around your waist and your feet stop touching the ground. with a fluid movement, he pulls you both away from the cheering hustle and bustle and you squeeze more against him, watching the world blur and your whole body hum.

your eyes close and you let yourself be fully carried away by him, melted into the warm sensation that embraces you, until your feet touch the ground again. your mind feels light and your senses are put on alert when you look down and see how far the two of you are from the actual ground, holding him with hurry. “i got you.”

you look at him overcome by emotion and surprise and your eyes take note of jaemin's gentle features when he removes the mask. “i will always got you, baby.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jisung: wrong place at the wrong time. friendly neighbor doing errands for elderly people. clumsy swaying between buildings. awkward execution but good results. inner dialogues. thinking out loud. “from your friendly neighbor, spider-man”. shy giggles. stolen kisses. drinking soda on top of a moving subway. being late to class. stark enterprise's intern. iron spider suit. meet up cute. confession by accident 'cause he mentions something you said to jisung, not spiderman.

he might find cute that you're so clueless if it weren't for the small problem of you being always in trouble because of that. in addition to it, it's not that he was an expert and a good performer; he was generally clueless as well. although he sometimes wishes not being like that in front of you.

you've crouched in a corner while he awkwardly fighted a couple of thugs, and when he's done he's spent half his ration of cobwebs, knocked over a dumpster, and maybe bursted one or two ribs.

he laughs, he doesn't know why. maybe because he wants to soften your eyes opened in alert as you hug your bag tightly. some belongings have fallen to the ground thanks to the forcing, and jisung picks them up as he makes his way to you. “are you okay, ma'am?” the unopened box of pasty colors lies wet when he picks it up. “ew…” and the wet mixture makes a horrific paste on his fingers.

“no! my crayons.” his gaze shoots up at you as you emerge from your stupor, just as you see that your journey to the tool store had been in vain.

jisung helps you pick up what can be saved, until your eyes stay glued to the ground, looking for something as he remembers what.

“your notebook.” it was the first thing he caught with his webs before it fell to the wet floor of the alley, because he knows how important it is for you.

a pair of cobwebs hold it in place on the wall when he peels it off. “thanks!” you smile and he thanks the mask for hiding he does it too.

“thank you, spiderman. and i'm sorry, i know it's dangerous going out so late… i just needed to buy more paint.”

“right, your art project.”

he doesn't even realize what a gaffe he's made in time. it's not when he takes his eyes off your notebook and watches you look at him with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. “eh… well, i assume it is, cause why would i know. not that i know … okay! i hope you arrive safe at home, i gotta go,” he says the words too fast and trips over the container on his way out.

“i see you in class tomorrow.”

“okay!— i mean, no, no. i don't even go to brooklyn visions.” he incriminates himself more and more as he speaks. “totally don't see me there, cause i don't even go to school.” jesus christ, he really wish he could shut up once and for all.

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jeno: intern at oscorp co. bitten by an upgraded spider because he's a little clumsy. social butterfly. lowkey popular at school. non-prescription glasses. nyu hoodie. crush on the quiet girl from his math class. “one last call”. hybrid suit. stolen kisses. last man standing. lost backpacks. wants to redeem the villains. she fell first but he fell harder. being snatched away for him. accidental confession because you joked that he was spiderman.

it was known that after a few catches at fast-paced people would begin to suspect. jeno had to seriously get his spider senses in order and stop acting before he could think, but it was almost impossible for him to do so when it came to you.

it was the fourth time he'd caught something before it fell to the ground that day, and even if you apologized for being so clumsy, jeno was frustrated because he couldn't not do so; suddenly, he wanted to protect you from everything.

he likes it, and maybe it had to do with him liking you.

god, he wasn't very good with words, and he might be a little silly because he can't show it with actions either. and he spends all day looking for a way to get you to agree to go out with him and he may also spend his time imagining scenarios where you don't like him back, and it scares him.

and that's why he doesn't have time to register that he needs to be careful when the enriched senses strike because you're always in his head, and because of that he just catches a beaker of precipitation inches off the ground, again.

“wow,” you say and something tingles inside, like it was trying to warn him. “you're spiderman, aren't you?”

perhaps it was telling him to keep his big mouth shut.

jeno looks at you dumbfounded and suddenly he can't spin a coherent thought while you stare at him with those eyes ‘cause then he can think properly. “how d'you know?”

he wants to hit himself right there when you suppress a smile because it is at that moment that the possibility arises that perhaps you didn't know and that maybe (not sure yet) it was a joke.

actually… he could downplay it and flip it if it weren't for the fact that a light bulb finally light up above his head, because maybe he could... take advantage of spiderman's charms for the first time. “i am spiderman.”

but then he says it so weird that you start laughing and he thinks you think he's joking, “dead serious.” his eyes follow you chuckling a lot and he can't help but smile too, until you stop all of a sudden.

maybe you didn't know... fuck, he's screwed up very bad this time.

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ chenle: rich boy experimenting in his father's laboratory. vigilante. sassy retorts. unpremeditated actions. advance suit 2.0. savior of the girl in distress. knocks on your window at midnight. finger guns. “that's the best you can do?”. childhood friends to lovers. vengeful. misunderstood. traitor trope. the sound of a thunderstorm. whispers at 3 am. random hugs. mean to everyone but you. no confession needed when you know your bestfriend fully.

the buildings pass on either side of you like a gray blur as you swing like a bullet through the air, your hair dances in the warm breeze and makes it harder for you to see clearly the one who holds you tightly and safe as he takes you somewhere protected from danger.

there's fear sitting in your chest that begins to fade as his swaying lulls you and you close your eyes letting yourself go until your feet touch solid ground.

“are you okay?” you hear his voice muffled by the mask, “are you hurt?” he says again, now with a tinge of alertness in his voice when your grip don't let go.

and he allows you. he doesn't let you go, and you don't want him either. and as the adrenaline goes down and dissolves in your system, your other senses resurface and even though your fear comes back something triggers in your mind. something... familiar.

you separate yourself from him with thousands of sensations crossing your features as you study the mask. your eyes drenched in something akin to shock and revelation as your hand reaches out the hem. “don't.”

his hands grab yours to keep you from lifting it up. “chenle,” you pronounce with a heartbeat, and his grip loosens.

his face is revealed underneath the cloth and you hold your breath as his closed eyes slowly begin to open. “how did you know it was me?”

“you're my best friend.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ renjun: a radioactive spider missing at a science convention. spidey senses. overly intuitive. scrapped prototypes. city at dusk. gliding in the sky. leap of fate. upgraded suit. late summer nights. string lights. origami stars. sign language. sidewalk chalk drawings. not a quitter. “i am nothing without the suit”. skateboard tracks. volumes and mixtapes. scrapped knees. humming a lost song. self-sacrifice. exes to lovers. he removes his mask without knowing you're sitting on his bed.

he had mastered and perfected his technique of not making noise when entering his room. he knew the gears on the front door would make noise, so he opted for the window. the fire escape led him to the tenth floor where he slipped into the room by climbing up the ceiling.

he almost screams victory, taking off his mask, before his enriched senses tell him something isn't right, almost at the same fraction of a second when you drops with a pronounced daze the lego sculpture and it shatters on the floor. “you're spiderman.” more of a rectification than a question as if you couldn't believe it. “oh, my god. you're spiderman.”

he comes to you and hushes you. “yn! what are you doing in my room!?” your mouth opens in amazement before your features are bathed in disbelief.

“you told me to come!” he puts a hand in your mouth and the unexpected approach makes you hesitate.

“alright, alright…” he says in a whisper. “be quiet, yeah?” he asks, looking into your eyes. “don't freak out.” you nod, “seriously, i can tell you'll scream the moment i remove my hand, so promise me.” he removes his hand and awaits for your reaction.

you're puzzled, “you're spiderman…,” you breathe and he grins smugly before you hit him not so lightly.

renjun puts a hand to his mouth after letting out a sound more outraged than painful. “you're spiderman and you didn't think to tell me?”

“well… i was thinking of telling you…”

“i kissed you!? spiderman and renjun!” you say, almost stupefied. “didn't you think to tell me you were the same person? i was planning on rejecting you!” when you're done, you're just left breathing artificially, and you look at him in disbelief when he doesn't say anything.

his mouth opens slowly when he sees you waiting for something. “i was afraid you'd say that.”

you frown and stay there confused by his words.

“you're telling me that you lied to me because you were afraid? afraid of what?”

“i was afraid you'd pick him.”

“renjun, what are you talking about?” you sigh, exhausted of lies.

“of spiderman. i'm nothing without the suit. no one paid attention to me when i was a nobody.”

“i did!”

[pix-writes]

Cuddle HC for Ford pls 🥰

This is such a cute request! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Cudldes with Ford (sfw):

He really likes to put his arms around you, Ford has a broad frame and fairly strong, so he will squeeze you! Likes the pressure but also makes him feel more secure, to have you close as possible to him, puts his emotions into the action; if you and/or Ford are upset, expect the hardest hugs! He takes a lot of comfort from it, being a little touch starved in his life previously.

The man is in love with his work as much as his family so cuddles can really happen anywhere, including the lab. Sometimes he will pull you in when he sees that you're tired, gets you to rest his head on him comfortably as he finishes is records for the day. Other times you basically have to crawl into his lap like a cat to get his attention/get him to take a break. But he really doesn't mind that, because he gets to sweep you up in his arms, is probably strong enough to carry you over to somewhere more comfy too.

You're likely to lean on each other a lot whilst absorbed in something (research or recreational hobbies) like this:

He really likes your scent too, will rest his head in the crook of your neck when you're cuddled up together, especially when tired. Maybe you're both on the couch watching TV or on the stan o war watching the sunset at the end of a day of adventure. He'll rest his head under yours and will likely fall asleep - he's had a lot of sleep deprivation in his life, so when he feels the most relaxed in your presence, it really should be no surprise that he wants to sleep. Ford reminds himself of these moments later when he has days where past mistakes and bill weigh heavy on his mind; he is safe now.

Cuddles in bed: Ford likes to be the big spoon at night, feels right to him because he feels he's protecting you, places a hand around you to keep you in place. That said though, he loves when you run your fingers through his hair, likes to lay his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat when you do, so it's not unusual for you both to fall asleep that way, either.

Doesn't like to go to bed without you, even though on other occasions he can stay up late after you've gone to bed, he hates it if he has to go to bed alone, he just likes cuddling you that much. Feels lonely if you staying out late for something or you're not in the same place as him - not that he'd stop you going, you're living your own life, but he might be more clingy when you return, he often gets nightmares when he sleeps alone. If you're not gone for days then he'll likely stay up for you.

Ford whilst asleep can end up tangling his legs around yours, if you don't like cold feet that have been sticking out of the covers to be placed on you, then this might be a problem! 😄 Secretly likes when you grumble about being cold when this happens because then he can pull you back into his hold to warm you both up (you can bet he has a cheesy line about this) ❤️

In the mornings though, Ford is quite alert, once he's awake he's awake! So there's only so much time you can hold him before he's out of bed to start the morning routine. Though, if you're less of a morning person, part of that routine is to bring you coffee/tea/beverage of choice to you in bed, should his persuasion to join him in the kitchen fails, so there's definitely the possibility of some morning cuddles! Not to mention that Ford is already dressed (likely in one of his many sweaters) so he's a lot warmer, which makes getting out of the covers not so bad. I think in the mornings, expect Ford's playful side to come out, will tease you about being sleepy to get a rise out of you (he's flirting). To him you look so adorable/beautiful when you've just woken up, even if you think its when you look your worst/most unflattering. He'll be nicer about it half of the time, waking you up softly and brush your hair away from your face if he can, like you do for him.

[cherimoyatea]

❧ Rafayel - Midnights

Pairing: Rafayel x You Synopsis: Rafayel has a hard decision to make as the night fades into dawn. Word Count: 1.188K Tags: sea of golden sand, abysswalker rafayel, female reader:princess MC, smut, angst, angst, angst, mentioning of his lore MDNI: suggestive content in the first half⚠️ Side Notes: Am I writing Abysswalker smut and blushing on mildly suggestive content? Maybe. It's not like I don't have the wildest thoughts in the back of my head, but it seems like I can't overcome my comfort zone and write them out. So, I'm taking a more poetic route this time, cowardly leaving the spicy part to your imagination until I feel ready to paint the full picture... 👀💦 Please don't hate me.

''Not yet, your Highness...'' Rafayel purrs softly into your ear as you shift beneath him, making the rough sheets rustle as you move. His warm breath on your skin sends a magnitude of sparks through your body—crying for relief as his slick tongue glides out, trailing down your sensitive neck.

Marking it with burning kisses.

You are the Princess of Philos, the heiress of a kingdom. Garbed in the finest robes, your hair adorned with fragrant petals. You live a prestigious life in your palace, which lacks nothing.

And yet you are here. With him.

Sharing a simple furnished room in a low-priced hotel with the lavender-haired Lemurian. Until dawn breaks.

Night after night, you escape the comfort of your luxurious bedchamber to find shelter in a run-down area of the town. Willingly, you follow him through dark alleys and narrow sidewalks to avoid curious eyes. Placing your trust in him as he guides you carefully through the dimly lit streets until you arrive at your destination for a moment of intimacy.

Nobody bats an eye if a couple shows up at a place like this late after midnight and disappears before sunrise.

''Rafayel...'' You call out his name yearningly, ignoring the drunken voices and chants, coming faintly from the streets as you lay on the hard mattress of the wooden bed.

His weight pressing against your body only heightens your longing while you nervously fumble with the straps of his purple-black armor to unbuckle them. You have been craving him all day, and there is no way you're willing to wait any longer.

''I wish to have you! Now! I need—ah!''

A gasp escapes your lips as Rafayel suddenly grabs your wrist, stopping you from opening the straps and revealing his toned skin to you.

He pins it next to your head, amused by the persistence in your voice. ''So eager tonight, are we Princess?'' Your beloved whispers teasingly before pulling away from the crook of your neck to gaze at your blushed face.

''And so bold!'' He adds with a smug grin while his pink-blue eyes almost devour you. ''Did your Highness forget that I don't accept orders from her? This rundown place is not her realm, and I am not her servant.''

You return his gaze and notice the pink hue spreading on the Lemurian's cheeks and ears, his chest slightly heaving. He is clearly as tense as you and equally anticipating what is about to come.

''You don't ask me to beg for it, do you?'' You reply in a shaky voice, trying to calm your quickened breathing as much as you can.

For a brief moment, you contemplate talking back. But given your situation, you fear it would only lead to further restrictions so instead, you choose to give in.

''If that's your wish...''

Trying to read into those sunset eyes, as if all your unspoken wishes were answered by them, you relax your tense body before you hear your voice. Firm yet soft. ''Please, allow me to have you, to taste you... I beg you, don't turn me away like this...''

''Hm?'' Rafayel's eyes go wide in surprise, caught off guard, unprepared for your abrupt change in demeanor. You couldn't be more beautiful to him than in this very moment—lying all vulnerable and disheveled beneath him. Searching, asking for permission with those lovestruck eyes he adores so much.

And now you are begging to drink from his luscious lips, to be claimed by him. How could he ever resist your charm?

''R-Rafayel I...'' Your breath hitches as he suddenly captures your lips in a kiss, giving in to his own desire to answer your craving as his hand releases your wrist and moves to your chest, slowly unraveling the front ribbon of your dress...

...and only the moonlight that falls through the thin, swaying curtains bears witness to two lovers intertwined in the rough rustling sheets...

A pair of glimmering orbs appears in the darkness of the hotel room as Rafayel opens his eyes. He still lies awake, long after you fell asleep—spent from your passionate love-making. You slumber safe and sound in the arms of your beloved, unaware of the grim thoughts occupying his mind at this late hour.

''Your Quintessence... time is running out!''

The Lemurian moves his head in irritation as if trying to shake off the Elders plea that rings in his ears during these moments of silence. He carefully slides his arm from under your sleeping form, anxious about waking you, and sits up in bed.

Leaning against the headrest, he closes his eyes and sighs deeply as the words that doom him spiral down once again. Words like a cursed spell that numbs his body and leaves him without hope:

''You must complete the prophecy. Obtain her heart. Your heart. Awaken the seas, rebuild Lemuria.''

And tonight he will reclaim his heart from you.

Rafayel steadies himself and raises a hand to summon his dagger, gripping its hilt tightly. He then shifts his gaze to you, determined to take back what belongs to him. His glimmering eyes turn a shade darker as he moves the blanket from your upper half, revealing your bare skin.

Beads of sweat run down his temples as he hovers the sharp tip of his dagger over your chest, which he caressed and kissed so passionately only moments ago. His breath comes out in labored gasps as he feels his heart pounding against his ribs, knowing he is about to take yours.

''Mhm... I love you...''

The Lemurian abruptly freezes in his movements and holds his breath as you shift in your sleep, rolling to your side. Your innocent, sleep-drunken murmurs pull him back to his senses, and he quickly moves the dagger away from your sleeping form.

''Love, huh?'' With a swift move the dagger vanishes into thin air and a shaky sigh escapes Rafayel's lips. Once more, he finds himself reminded of something: If he dies, then Lemuria dies with him. But if you die, he loses all meaning to live.

He slumps back onto the mattress beside you, watching you breathe calmly, unaware of the threat that surrounded you just moments ago. You are more than willing to give your heart to him, he's aware of that.

But how will he ever find the strength to claim it from you?

''Not tonight...'' He whispers to himself while nuzzling up to you. Inhaling your flowery scent, taking in the warmth of your body as he grabs the blanket and covers both of you.

In just a few hours, morning will break. And then he will need to wake you up to sneak you back into your bedchamber before anyone notices your absence, while he remains in the desert's ambush. Until he can see you again at midnight.

But for now, you are here, and you are his.

No. Tonight is not the night. Just as the night before wasn't. And the night before last...

And deep down, he knows his days are numbered—his blackened flame will eventually extinguish and fade before he ever lays a finger on his beloved bride.

Thank you for reading!

Cheri 🍒

[milky-aeons]

— FLY AWAY WITH ME

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and ranpo edogawa; what their honeymoon would be like.

warnings: marriage, female reader, wife reader, sexual content for dazai, kunikida and chuuya, mentions of death, bondage, swearing, mentions of vomiting, alcohol intake, mdni, w.c 4.2k

𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

To honeymoon after one's wedding was not as practiced in Japan as it was the western world — however, Dazai, of course, jumped at any opportunity to slack off from work. A week away from the city with his newly married wife sounded right up the agent's alley.

And when Dazai Osamu was given an inch, he always strove to take a mile.

"Kunikida-kun is going to kill you when we get back, Dazai." You scolded your husband sitting at your side. But when you turned to him, attempting to pin him down with a look, you just couldn't help the sides of your lips curling into a smile. "Like — actually kill you, this time."

Dazai rolled his head, humming a musical sound. "To have my life ended under the cold, bony hands of an Idealist. How could you even speak those words, my love?"

"Only you would find a way to convince the President that a week away in Okinawa would be good for two of his agents. Paid all inclusively, too. What did you call it?" You quirked an eyebrow. "Sand resistance and underwater training?"

The briny sea air teased at his loose shirt and wild, unkempt curls, making him look like a divinity — a mythical creature of the ocean. Both of you sat side by side on the coast's cool sands; sipping from a bottle of sake, watching the sunset bleed the sky into twilight. After spending the day full of adventurous activities; wandering nature trails, stopping for a late-afternoon lunch under the canopy of marine trees, only to take each other by the hand and venture through the Churaumi aquarium's glass blue halls — you both had been content to cuddle up and watch the stars, that evening. Listening to the lull of the sea, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Dazai cocked his head in that funny little way he always did. "Is that not what we're doing?"

"Of course," You agreed, and then leaned over to poke the tip of his nose. His surprised little blink almost had your heart melting into a puddle. "And tomorrow, I expect you up bright and early, because we have an extra strenuous day of whale watching to attend."

Dazai leaned in, as if you were both sharing a secret, and touched his warm forehead against yours. It made your pulse flutter; the shade of his eyes, so complex when he was this close. They softened into something a lot more sultry. "Hmm? Whale watching? I was under the impression our schedule was already taken up tomorrow, though."

"Oh?" You smiled, your breath mingling. "Do divulge me, Osamu."

That was when he went for you. Pouncing with the agility of a leopard, a beast, until he had pulled you against his lean body and you were both rolling around in the sand — shrieking and chuckling.

"I am to accompany my beautiful princess bride on a mission that could mean life or death! World dominion or forever peace! The very nature of things hangs in the balance and I have the key to it, right in my very hands!"

"Osamu—you're—!" You chortled. "Stop! You'll get sand in my ears!"

He brought your rolling bodies to a halt with you laying flush against him. There was mirth dancing in his eyes, his face — looking at you like he was a teenager in love for the very first time. He pouted playfully.

"You don't want to hear my master plan to save the world?"

"You just don't want to go whale watching."

"Hmm~" He purred, and you felt those long fingers begin to trail up your thighs — so sensitive, almost completely bare to him underneath the cotton beach skirt you wore. They drew languid, mind-numbing circles that traced a picture of fire from your thighs, the small back, your thighs again. You found yourself arching back instinctively into them.

Dazai craned his neck up then — just so he could trail his lips against the shell of your ear and whisper, "Because I am much more inclined to hear someone else moan for me all day, instead."

The last of his words were accompanied with his palms coming down on your ass, squeezing possessively — the shock of it lurching you forward a little. You gasped, and he revelled in it. You could see it in the way his tawny eyes darkened into a promising mahogany. Whenever Dazai looked at you like that, it eddied any and all coherent thoughts from your mind. Just like the first time you met him, the second, the millionth, you'd never tire from marvelling in your husband's beauty. Both on his gorgeous face and inside his well-protected soul.

You just had to peel back each and every layer he had learned to build up until you coaxed it out. But you would wait — for him, you would wait a lifetime.

Chuckling a heady sound, you leaned down, ghosting your lips over his parted ones. When he shifted up to try and connect your mouths together — you were mean. You pulled just out of his reach, grinning a wicked, vixen-like smile.

"All day?" You challenged. "But—oh—!"

A yelp tore from your throat when Dazai startled you by surging foreword and rolling until you were beneath him; trapped underneath his long, caging arms. His bangs tickled your face when he pitched forward to arrest you in his intense stare. Holding so much weight, so much promise, that it sent a thousand sparks of pleasure racing from the crown of your head right to the tips of your toes.

"Every day, my beautiful wife."

You didn't think either of you could wait until then.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 . . .

After the rather formal affair that was you and Kunikida Doppo's wedding; a honeymoon was far removed from your mind. So you were surprised, when your new husband approached you one morning, two long-distance train tickets held firmly in his grip. The ledgers are already taken care of, he had assured you when protests rose on your tongue, you needn't worry. There is enough staff to cover our absence.

There was something — something fiercely intense in his eyes when he had said those words, too. Of course, your husband Kunikida Doppo was a fierce man by nature; it was one of the many things you had learned to love about him. But then, you had been unable to place the heat in his eyes, the way his body strained towards you — as if holding some monstrous part of himself back.

You had been unable to place it — that was, until now.

His naked body stalked around the foot of the bed — soft, buttery light throwing all of his defined muscles into focus. The curtains of this private suite were decorated with cotton and cashmere, letting as much natural light into the room as possible while still offering you two some privacy. In fact, one of the drapes from your bathroom window were missing — but that was because it had been wound tightly around your wrists, pinning you to the headboard.

"One hundred and forty-five." Kunikida spoke suddenly.

Through your lust addled mind, you tried to parse his words. Your brows came down over confused eyes. "W-What?"

He stopped, snapping his Ideal book closed in one hand. And when he turned towards you — God, your tongue pasted to the roof of your mouth. He was marvellous. He was breath-taking — his blond hair let loose around his shoulders, the length of him standing stiff and erect for you to see.

"One hundred and forty-five," He repeated. The mattress dipped when he leaned one knee against it, then the other. "That is the amount of days which have passed since I had the first indecent thought about you."

He might as well already be touching you — the way those words instructed a shiver to race down your bare skin. Kunikida pitched forward so he was on all fours now — and with savouring slowness, he began to crawl towards you.

"O-Oh?" Was the only coherent thing you could get out. Your eyes darted all over him, you tried to rub your thighs together to garner some type of friction since he was so adamant to tease you. Kunikida's quick-silver eyes noticed the movement, however, and reached a large hand out. He flattened it on the bare skin of your thigh; a silent command for you to be still.

Frustrated, you levelled a heated glare at him, huffing, "This is no way to treat your new wife."

"Believe me," Kunikida's tone was controlled — always controlled, but you delighted in the fact that his lips twitched into a smile. "I have every intention of treating my wife very well, indeed."

Your breasts strained taut when he came to settle himself just over you and leaned up — bracketing your hips with those strong thighs. Ever since he had gotten your clothes off; Kunikida Doppo could not stop himself from just looking at you. An extremely controlling part of him was overcome with the mind-consuming urge to lock you up and keep you all for himself. But he knew he could not do that. So here he would revel, every moment he could, in you flushed and bare beneath him. Begging him with your eyes to touch you, to relieve that ache only he had caused.

Shit, Kunikida Doppo thought when he looked down at you, he'd pay only the finest artist to paint you like this. But then he'd have to rip their damn hand off.

He reached a hand out to trail it against your twitching tummy muscles. The hand which brandished that newly crafted gold band.

"It was exactly 11:48am, Tuesday the 7th," Kunikida murmured in a deep, throaty voice. His eyes glazed over as he trailed his fingers all over you — from your naval to your breastbone to letting them dance across the planes of your face. "When you walked into the main office with a large stack of reports a certain someone has been slackin' on. You bent over — in that tight little skirt you always wear," He inhaled, dragging your bottom lip gently with his thumb. "And I was overcome."

"O-Overcome?" You echoed. If he kept this up, you were very certain your new husband would make your heart burst out of your chest. You burned, you needed him like your air, like the blood roaring in your ears.

Kunikida leaned in close enough until he was all you could see. He dropped his voice, and the words rumbled out of his chest.

"Overcome with the need to bend you against the table and fuck you, right then and there."

A small whimper climbed up your throat. Like a butterfly, caught and pinned against a board, you fluttered restlessly beneath him. Kunikida placed the softest kisses against your skin; but you could feel the tension that tremored underneath his marble skin. He was taking his time. He was adamant to keep you here for as long as possible just to savour you, over and over again.

And you were more than willing to oblige.

"And now," You whispered, hot and needy, against him. "You have me right where you want me, Kunikida."

Your husband groaned and began to roll his hips against you — absolutely unable to help himself when you said those words. Gasping, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you were barely lucid enough to hear him growl out the words;

"And you'll always have me at your mercy, darling."

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 . . .

You and Atsushi had decided to get married under the gentle blossoms of springtime, but it had always been your dream to escape on a winter's honeymoon. Of course, when you broached the topic with him a couple of weeks before the ceremony, Atsushi took some time to gradually warm to the idea. He had never been out of the country, after all, and the thought of boarding a metal tube that soared thousands of feet in the air definitely did not appeal to his feline side.

"It's... so it doesn't stop off, somewhere?" He had asked you with those adorable wide eyes. "What if I need to pee?"

His country naivety was all too amusing to you — a warm grin brightened your face, and to stifle the chuckle, you buried into his silver hair, instead.

"There are toilets on the plane. And refreshments, and seats." You replied to him. "Besides, there'd be nowhere for us to stop off. We'd have to cross over the ocean, after all."

"T-The ocean?!"

The Harbin Ice and Snow festival held its open ceremony a few months after you and Atsushi's marriage, but once you got there, you knew it had been well worth the wait. The city was crafted with ice structures and snowy castles, illuminated by floodlights that coloured them all different shades. Both bundled in layers, you and your husband walked side-by-side through them, warming the other's hand. Atsushi bought you a delicious hot chocolate to share, and never missed the chance to kiss the cream off of your face.

"I have no idea how you're not wearing gloves," You said to him one evening as you strolled around the resort. From here, the blanketed mountains stood stark against the night sky, littered with evergreen trees. Each step you took crunched the snow beneath you.

"Ah," Atsushi piqued. He then lifted his hands to show them to you, and when you inspected them closer; you noticed that he had coated them in a thick layer of tiger fur. "Ta-dah!"

The funny sight caught you so off guard that you doubled over giggling. "What a convenient talent. I wish I could do that when I get cold!"

"You know I would if I could," He said, the warm sincerity of it coming to hug around you like your very own blanket. "But there's something that I can do."

"Oh?" You leaned up to regard your new husband — only to realise that he was no longer by your side. Instead, he had taken a few strides ahead, leaning forward onto all fours in that familiar position he took before an ability activation. Whoosh, the snow whipped up to bite your cheeks, the entire landscape was drowned out in the supernatural blue light as he shifted from man to beast.

The bands of light exploded to leave him in their remnants — only bigger, furrier, and so much more deadly. Not an ounce of fear touched your body, however — because even though standing in his place was a monstrous weretiger that prowled towards you; those were still Atsushi's eyes. The tender bump he gave you with his head still belonged to the person who had Atsushi's soul — your Atsushi.

You carded your fingers lovingly through his coat. "Hello, there." You murmured, taking his big head in your hands and scratching behind his ears. "What brings you here, Mr. Weretiger?"

Atsushi's honey-gold eyes held yours for a moment. Then, he made a swishing movement with his head — an indication for you to follow. You knitted your eyebrows, initially confused at what he wanted when he couldn't use human speech — but when he lay down in the snow and made his back easier for you to reach, you suddenly realised.

"Oh, okay." You hummed, manoeuvring to the side of his massive body and hiking your leg up. Shifting, you found a comfortable sitting position on his back. But not before you cuddled into his soft fur a little. "You are so warm, no wonder you don't need gloves."

His great big lungs reverberated when he spoke something you couldn't understand. Atsushi padded the snow — an indication that he was going to move, letting you know to hold on tight — before straightening up to his full height.

Then, he was running.

Galloping through the snow scape like you weighed absolutely nothing at all — the wind ripping through your hair, smattering your cheeks in little flecks of snowflakes. You gripped on tight to his coat, feeling the wild rush of adrenaline spike in your blood. His great big paws ate up the distance with agility, with grace. As easy and breathing for him in this form. You held on tight to your husband's body when he hopped from rock to rock, from tree to tree, taking you through your very own winter wonderland on a night you'd never forget.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

After the unholy shitshow — as your husband eloquently puts it — that was your wedding reception, it was safe to assume that Chuuya Nakahara was adamant to get out of the country in order to spend a few days alone with you. Somewhere extremely far away. And what better place was there, than the classy city of romance and wine?

He had been cunning in the preparations, refusing to reveal anything until it was the evening you scheduled to fly out on one of the Port Mafia's private air jets. Sure; the plane had been in regular use to smuggle large shipments of drugs across the Japanese border, but Chuuya had gone to touching lengths in order to make it special for you.

The inside was completely cleaned out and lavished with first-class opulence. When you stood in the hanger, suitcase in tow, you couldn't believe how beautiful he had made it look. And when he handed you a flute of fizzing champagne before boarding, he pulled you in by the waist; kissed you on the cheek, and said, are ya ready to see the real Eiffel Tower, sweetheart?

The sheer beauty of Paris was all you needed to make up for the long-haul flight over. Each building towered above you; beige stonework, panelled windows, the smell of fresh baked goods and coffee in the air. Chuuya walked with his hand on your back through the winding cobblestone walkways. He did not complain once when you spent hours busying around the shopping district La Vallée, gushing at all the quaint boutiques and bakeries. He bought as many pastries as your heart so desired. And on your last night, he told you to wear your finest dress, and took you on a boat ride around the city.

"This mustn't have been good for your bank account," You pouted, leaning over the side of the boat to admire the glossy river water. "Even for you."

Chuuya popped a piece of steak into his mouth. One eyebrow quirked. "I thought I told ya never to worry about money when you're with me, doll. Even more so now that you're my wife."

My wife, you closed your eyes, savouring the sound of it wearing his voice like the meal in front of you. It still sounded so foreign — a little out of place, when you had just gotten used to being to as the General's fiancée. When you opened your eyes, you allowed yourself a few seconds to marvel at the man who worked to make all your desires come true — and not because he had to, but because he wanted to, he loved to.

Chuuya's blue eyes twinkled underneath the fairy lights that hung from the boat's canopy. "What?"

You beckoned to all the other empty seats around you. "How did you manage to rent an entire boat for just the two of us, though?"

At that, your husband's lips lifted into a wide, vulpine smile. The type that made delicious heat lick down your spine.

"Do ya object to being on this big boat all alone with me, sweetheart?"

The heat cascading down your spine spread its fingers — until it was all over you, reaching the tips of your cheeks, the skin of your chest left exposed by the open dress. You swallowed, not breaking the eye contact, and placed your fork down with very precise movements.

You purposefully flicked your hair behind your shoulder — exposing your collarbone, the long column of your neck.

"Quite the contrary, my beautiful husband. In fact, I think the rocking could make riding you senseless feel extra good, if that was even possible."

There was a heartbeat where Chuuya didn't move. And then, the table was knocked to one side, there was a harsh clatter of metal and plates and his chair scraping against the deck when he surged for you.

You shrieked in delight when you felt his hands on your hips — hoisting you swiftly from the terrace chair and into his arms. Guiding your legs to wrap around his waist, you were held securely against him, looping your arms around his neck as he made quick work of the ships decking and down the stairs into your private bedroom.

When you both resurfaced onto the deck for some fresh air, you were blissfully unaware that the sun had risen and it had already become morning — but the crewmates definitely were.

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 (𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃) 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎 . . .

When your newly-wed husband Ranpo Edogawa pitched the idea of a honeymoon in Tokyo; initially, you were quite sceptical. Tokyo was a city packed with people and, God forbid; a very advanced transport system. Whatever could your particular partner want in the bustling capital of your country?

Roller-coaster rides and donuts and mickey mouse ears, apparently.

He was such a child at heart, you thought fondly as you watched him flutter around the food stalls at Tokyo's Disneyland Resort, pointing at all the colourful sweets he wanted to try. You suppose Ranpo never really had the opportunity to have a childhood; being hunted for his mind and hopping from job to job just to survive before he met the President. And you cherished that part of him. Your heart grew twice its size when he returned to you, a chest-full of of packaged goods and two sticks of candyfloss.

"According to my Deductions," Your husband boasted, thrusting the candy floss out to you. "Poo's Honey Hunt is the next attraction which will have the least amount of waiting time."

You took your candyfloss carefully from him. "Of course. Although do you think it's a good idea to go riding when you have a stomach full of sweets, Ranpo?"

He leaned back and guffawed. "Pwah! Nothing is impossible for the World's Greatest Detective!"

It turned out that spinning in a plastic honey pot one too many times was a little too much for the World's Greatest Detective, after all. You rubbed soothing circles against your husband's back and held his cape out of the way as he upheaved into a colourful trashcan the moment he stepped off of the ride. You hushed anything he tried to say, instead guiding him to sit with you by the riverside — watching the fairy tale boats float on by until the nausea subsided.

A bottle of water and a handful of pastries later; Ranpo Edogawa was right back on his feet again, dragging you by the hand to the next attraction with excited, skipping steps.

And when the sun dipped low behind the bright pink castle that was a landmark to the grounds and the sky darkened into twilight, your forever partner guided you across a beautiful bridge closed off to the public for the rest of the evening. Of course, you scolded him with each step, telling him that this would get you both in a world of trouble. Only for him to turn around and wink, assuring, the stewards only patrol this area of the park every quarter of an hour. We have at least twenty minutes until anybody will be near this area again.

"Ranpo, darling, I love you," You said to him, stepping over the foliage and onto the bridge painted with bright gold — mimicking those found in story books. "But if we get fined for this, I am taking away all of your sweet stash for at least a month."

He twirled around to face you when you came to a stop in the centre of the bridge; his hands folded behind his back. His tongue stuck out. "Boo. You wouldn't be able to figure out the code."

"You doubt the mind of a wife who is angry." You cooed, but were completely unable to help the smile that tickled your lips. You were like two schoolkids; sneaking around in a no-trespass area trying not to get caught. Although you didn't understand the entire reason as to why you were stalking around a closed area of the park late at night.

You decided to question him, tilting your head. "Remind me, why is it that we're slinking around Tinkerbell's Garden and running the risk of getting caught, again?"

Your question was left hanging when Ranpo decided to keep his lips shut. Instead, he lifted three fingers up in the air. You watched with knitted brows as he brought down one — leaving two left. Then, brought down the other. And just as he let the final finger close into his fist, there was a shrill whistle, a tail of sparks flying through the night—

BOOM!

The most brilliant firework exploded in the sky.

You gasped, turning to look above the canopy that hid you both. Boom, there was another — a brilliant explosion of red and yellow. Boom, boom, two at the same time. You were arrested in place, marvelling at the light show that sent a thousand sparkles reflecting in your eyes.

Warmth. Skin. Ranpo's hand coming to intertwine with yours. His soft lips ghosting your temple, whispering the words so sweet;

"They're almost just as beautiful as you, my wonderful wife."

ღ . . . the bsd men ON THEIR WEDDING DAY

requested by wonderful [ nonnie! ]

[keikikait]

ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

check out my other rafe series here!

read the prequel series here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 4.9k

summary: rafe is late for your date at the island club

warnings: no smut but is suggestive (read at your own risk), handsy rafe, mild violence/fighting, whipped reader & whipped rafe, they go to a restaurant but i don't specify any kind of food, rafe is angry for like 3 seconds but not at reader, mean jj, use of the word 'whore', i don't think they've shown rafe's new place yet so i made one up, i haven't watched all of s4 so if i get shit wrong i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: this was supposed to be short. oops

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You and Rafe had date nights every Friday.

It was the only sense of regularity that he had, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He would plan it, tell you when and where to be, and you would eagerly oblige. He surprised you with something new every week; one Friday you’re driving across the thoroughfare towards the mainland for a shopping spree, the next Friday you’re on a private yacht watching the sunset. This week, he decided to go for the tried and true; dinner and a movie.

‘6 PM’, he told you, ‘and wear that silk emerald green dress.’ He had to run out for the day, still dealing with the aftereffects of Ward’s death and his departure from Tanneyhill. Trying to sell a giant, 6-bedroom mansion wasn’t as easy as you thought, as most of the residents of Kildare couldn’t afford to buy it from him. He was considering turning it into an Air B&B, a project he would rope you into to help with the interior design. You and Rafe had a new place, another mansion still located in Figure Eight, although this one is much smaller, a Spanish revival you had a lovely time decorating. 

As the afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape, you found yourself perched upon a solitary bench situated beside the parking lot of The Island Club, the salty tang of the ocean breeze carrying the distant sound of crashing waves. Couples filed into the club, paying you no mind. Even though The Island Club wasn’t far from your new place, Rafe still bought you an Uber, just to make sure you were safe. It was almost 6:15 PM at this point, and every call and text to Rafe went unanswered. You had already informed the staff of his late arrival, ensuring that your reservation would not get cancelled. You check your watch again before standing, walking around the parking lot to check the streets.

Where was he?

You tug your dress down your legs. It was Rafe’s favourite on you, hugging your ass and hips perfectly. It was finally starting to get cold on the island, and even though the black leather jacket you stole from him didn’t exactly go with your outfit, it was keeping you warm. The wind flows through your hair, and you push it out of your eyes, looking down the street, trying to spot him on his bike. You sigh, your shoulders dropping. You turn around to head back to the bench, pulling your phone out of your small purse, ready to call him again.

You’re about to sit down when you hear the revving and rumbling of his dirt bike, pulling into the left side of the parking lot. You sigh, putting your phone away as you walk over to him. You bite your lip when you see him wearing that grey blue waffle-weaved sweater that makes him look delicious. Rafe turns his bike off, pushing the kickstand down before getting off, reaching up to unbuckle the strap of his helmet.

“Hey, handsome.” You say, stepping off the curb and approaching him. You reach out, putting one of your hands on his bicep, fingers slightly digging into the muscle. Rafe pulls his helmet off, keeping it clutched in his hand. His eye and cheekbone were swollen, slightly yellow, and a cut underneath his brow bone marred his otherwise handsome face. The cut was deep, and blood was caked along its edges. It was clear that he had been in a fight, and he had not come out of it unscathed. He winced as you suddenly reach up to touch his cheekbone, a worried look on your face. “What the fuck? What happened?”

Rafe winces as you touch his cheek, pulling back from your touch. He wasn’t in the mood for your coddling. His jaw was clenched tight, his shoulders tense from the fight. He had no intention of telling you what happened, either. You never needed to know about the trouble he was in. He puts his helmet on the seat of his bike and grabs your waist, pulling you in front of him. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice level so that he didn’t snap at you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, not bothering to conceal the bruises and blood on his knuckles. Was it his or someone else’s, or both?

“Are you okay?” You ask, moving your hand off his bicep to rest on his waist. “Rafe, please tell me.”

His expression hardens as you continue to push. His fingers grip your waist almost painfully tight. “I said, don’t worry,” he repeats, his voice stern. He’d never talked to you like this, and you could hear the warning behind his words. His eyes stare down at you, intense and full of anger, although you’re not quite sure if it’s meant for you. “Let it go.”

You don’t push it, not wanting to anger him anymore. It was supposed to be a nice, relaxing night. You wrap your arms around his waist to pull him into a hug, laying your head on his chest. Rafe hesitates, surprised by the sudden display of affection, but then he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you in close. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, and for the first time that night, his shoulders finally drop, his whole body relaxing. He squeezes you tight to his chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head. 

He remains silent as he pulls away slightly, looking down at you. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, his hand gripping your side as his other hand flies to your neck. His grip is loose, but his thumb presses against your pulse — a small habit he picked up after he started dating you. In his own words, it’s a way to calm him down and to remind himself that you were safe.

Rafe sighs, pressing kisses to your forehead before leaning his against it, rubbing your pulse back and forth as it races under your skin. His voice is soft when he finally speaks, “I’m fine. Just ran into a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” You ask, rubbing your hand up and down his side.

“Nothing you need to be worrying about, sweetheart,” Rafe mumbles, still keeping his head pressed against yours. Rafe never used pet names with anyone else, but with you, it felt different. His eyes drift down to your lips, unable to resist. They were a faint shade of red, glossy and puffy from your bites, just as he liked them. “Just some shit with JJ and John B. I handled it.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, the hand on your neck moving to cup your cheek. Even as he pulls away, he keeps your body pressed against him. “Let’s not let this ruin our night, alright?”

“Are you sure?” You ask, brushing your thumb across his abs. “We can go home and order in if you want. I don’t want you to feel compelled to go out tonight.”

“Baby, I’m fine,” he murmurs, his voice soft. He understood where you were coming from, but only you would ever try to get out of a very expensive date because you thought he was too tired. “I got reservations for a reason. I don’t plan on missing our date night just because of a little fight.” The hand on your waist moves to the small of your back, pressing your body closer to his. He’d planned out everything for tonight. A fancy meal, followed by a quiet movie night at your place, then ending the night with his face buried between your legs, your wrists bound to the headboard. He didn’t want to ruin a date night that both of you were looking forward to. 

You sigh, but don’t push it. You didn’t want to ruin the date with an argument. You grab his hand, careful not to brush across his shredded knuckles, before leading him towards the entrance. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

Rafe rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but smile a little bit at your persistence, thankful that you cared. He follows behind you, his strides matching yours. He winces a little bit when you grab his hand, his knuckles stinging from the fight, but he doesn’t dare let you know that. 

He holds the door open for you when you reach the entrance, waiting for you to go through before he follows behind, placing on hand on your lower back as you walk. His eyes drifted down to your ass, and he had to stop himself from reaching out and smacking it. Now that his father was dead, he had to try to keep the Cameron image clean and pristine at The Island Club. They weren’t fans of him to begin with.

You head through the small entrance, moving to wait in line for the hostess stand. The country club was pretty packed, a common occurrence for a Friday night. The couple in front of you were older, and the woman's eyes soften as she looked over her shoulder and spotted Rafe. 

He kept his hand on your lower back, not trying to hide the fact that you were both together. His eyes stayed locked with the older woman in front of you, not surprised to have already been discovered by one of the regulars. He could see the woman’s concern from a mile away, her expression shifting when she saw the scrapes and bruises on his face. Rafe sighed, his jaw clenching in annoyance. Even here, he couldn’t get away from his reputation. His hand started to rub small circles into your back, silently trying to soothe himself more than you.

The woman whispers to her husband before turning around again. “It’s Rafe, right?”

Rafe raises an eyebrow at the elderly woman, a hint of a scowl on his face as his eyes meet hers. He gives her a small nod, although he doesn’t feel like talking to a regular at The Island Club right now. He wanted nothing more than to spend the evening alone with you. “Yes, ma’am,” His response is short and brief. “That’s me.”

“I was a friend of your father,” The woman says. “We were business partners a few years ago. I’m sorry for your loss, Rafe. My condolences.” 

Rafe’s expression changes as soon as the woman mentions his father. He knew that most people from The Island Club had been friends with his old man and business partners with him. Hearing condolences for his father had become a regular part of his routine, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing about his father’s death every single time. His hand on your lower back tightens, pulling you a bit closer to him. He gives her a forced smile, trying his best to look polite. “Thank you, ma’am,” he responds, his voice stiff.

The woman smiles softly before turning back around, stepping forward towards the hostess stand. Rafe’s hands traveled from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. He was lost in reality, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to himself that his life was fundamentally changing. His father was dead, and his relationships with his remaining family were ruined. But he had you, and that’s all that matters to him right now.

You lean your head against his chest as you wait, hands wrapped around his bicep, rubbing it lightly with your thumb.

Rafe sighs as you lean against him, his hand on your lower back drifting down to cup your ass. He could only hope that the other patrons wouldn’t notice, although he didn’t really care that much. But that woman was going to tell everyone about how rough he looked tonight, and he knew that some people would have comments about that, too. Rafe lowers his head to speak in your ear, although his voice is quiet enough that only you could hear. “Can’t wait to get you home,” he murmurs.

"Yeah? You excited for me to get on my knees for you?" You ask. Just as Rafe had been thinking about you all day, you had been thinking about him. You couldn’t wait to sink to the floor in front of him, your hands eagerly unbuckling his slacks before letting him fuck your face. Your favourite part, though, was the way he gripped your hair and moaned as he cummed down your throat.

Rafe sighs, groaning low in his throat as your words go straight to his cock. He’d always loved it when you talked like this, even if you were in private or texting. He didn’t want you to talk to anyone else like that. You were his. “Mmm, I’m more excited to see your face when you ride me,” he mumbles, moving closer so that his mouth is right next to your ear, still careful to keep his voice low. He wanted to take you home right now, but he had been looking forward to this dinner all week, and he knew you were too.

The older couple in front of you step away, being led by the hostess to their table. You approach the stand, and you smooth out the front of your dress as you wait. Although Rafe was used to the rich life full of country clubs, cotillion and croquet, you weren’t. You wanted to make a good impression on the staff of The Island Club.

Rafe stands tall and proud as you both step up to the hostess stand, his arm still wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on the small of your back. He glances down at your dress, taking in every detail of your appearance. You looked absolutely stunning in that dress, and it was taking all of his self-control to not get hard right now. The way you anxiously chewed on your lip, the way your hair was shining in the ambient lighting of the country club, the way you wore the ‘Rafe’ name necklace he bought you…he loved everything about you. He tugged you closer, loving the way you put a hand on his stomach as you leaned against him. You both had matching gold rings, engraved with your anniversary, yours on your forefinger while his sat on his thumb. 

The hostess looks up to greet both of you. She glances down at the reservation book for just a moment before nodding, a polite smile on her face. “Mr. Cameron,” she says. “Your table is ready.” She gathers two menus before leading you through the dining room towards the more private, member’s only area of the country club.

Even though you had been dating Rafe for a while, almost a year, you were always surprised by his influence. He had everything he ever wanted at the tips of his fingers, and because you were dating him, you got those luxuries too; endless shopping trips, a house full of anything you could dream of. And a handsome boyfriend, of course.

As you walk behind the hostess, Rafe’s fingers intertwine with yours, holding your hand tight. He was aware of all the eyes on him, as you could hear the whispers and murmurs from their fellow patrons, knowing they were all aware of the fight with John B and JJ, and the rumors were probably already spreading like wildfire. The hostess leads you to a secluded corner with a single table set for two, two candlesticks illuminating the table with a warm glow. 

“Thank you,” Rafe mumbles to the hostess as his eyes drift towards the far corner of the room. He lets go of your hand with some reluctance, before holding the chair for you at the small booth. He was thankful for the secluded booth, knowing it was going to be easier to touch you under the table. Rafe slides in next to you, reaching over to grab your knee, stroking his thumb softly back and forth. He wanted to put his hand on your throat to feel your pulse again, but he didn’t think that the patrons and staff would like that.

You thank the hostess, setting your purse down in the empty space next to you. As the hostess walks away, Rafe’s hand slips under the skirt of your dress, grabbing onto your inner thigh and rubbing back and forth. His touch is featherlight, just the lightest graze of skin against skin, although he can feel all the heat from your skin. 

He picks up the menu from the table, pretending to scan the food while his hand caresses you. He leans in toward you, although his eyes are still scanning the menu. “Do you know what you want to eat, sweetheart?”

“You.” You say immediately, flipping the menu over to look at the other side.

Rafe can’t help but let out a slight chuckle at your immediate response, his hand on your thigh stopping for a moment. His eyes finally look up at you from the menu, an amused look on his face. “Mmm, not yet, baby, but you’ll get it later. Promise,” he grins, his eyes drifting back down to the menu as his hand starts to rub against you again. “And for the main course?”

You sigh, glancing over the options. You didn’t really love any of the dishes on the menu, but you weren’t opposed to eating any of them. Rafe wraps his large, warm hand around your inner thigh and squeezes, yanking you a bit closer. It’s a simple gesture, but it makes your head spin, your brain shutting down for a split second. You purse your lips as you read before looking away, shifting in your seat. “You pick.”

He can see the way your body reacts to his touch, and it satisfies him to know that he can still affect you like that. It just makes him more eager to get you back home tonight. His fingers press into your thigh when you move closer to him, but he quickly loosens his grip when the waiter comes up to your table. 

He finally decides what he wants for the main course, and he orders for the both of you. His hand slides down your thigh, finally withdrawing, although he places his palm flat against your skin, resting his hand just below the edge of your dress. You sip on your drink as you wait for your food, feeling Rafe’s hand travel up your thigh again, as if he couldn’t resist. After the waiter walks away, Rafe’s focus turns back towards you, and he glances around the room to make sure nobody was watching. Seeing as everyone around him seemed to be doing their best to ignore him, he felt comfortable enough to continue his touch. His hand moves from your thigh to your hip, pulling you closer to him. “I like this dress on you,” he murmurs, his eyes raking over your body.

“Thank you,” You say as his hands travel up higher. “You look really good, baby.” You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, squeezing it. You couldn’t resist. He always looked good, but something about the way he looked in that fucking blue sweater and grey slacks made you go crazy, wanting to put your hands all over him and your mouth on his cock.

He gives you a smirk as your hand wraps around his upper arm, and he leans back into his chair. Your praise always brought out the cocky, arrogant side of him, and he absolutely loved when you told him how good he looked. His ego always needed a boost. He flexes the muscle underneath your hand, and it ripples underneath his sweater. “Yeah? You like this, don’t you?” He grins.

You nod, your mouth going dry. It was so hard to concentrate, all you wanted to do was shut your brain off and let him take control for the night. He knows exactly what effect he was having on you, and he loved seeing the effect that he could have on your body just from a little flex. “You feeling needy, baby?” He mumbles, his fingers pressing against your panties, right over your clit. You suck in a breath, gripping his sleeve to try to ground yourself. You nod.

The smirk stays plastered on his face as his palm squeezes tightly on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He can see the way your shoulders tensing, knowing that you were trying your best to keep yourself from writhing in your seat. “Soon, sweetheart. We just gotta get through dinner,” he mumbles, although he wanted nothing more than to take you home right now and ruin you, make you cum over and over until you cry.

The waiter approaches with your food, setting everything on the table. It snaps you back to reality, and you move your glass so he can put your plate in front of you. As the waiter sets the plates down, Rafe reluctantly pulls his hand away from you. His hand goes to pick up his fork, although the movement is absent-minded. His eyes stayed focused on you, and the only thing he could think about was getting you home and alone. Eventually, he forces his eyes away from you and to his food. His other hand moves behind your lower back, resting his palm flat against the exposed skin, his pinky finger playing with the waistband of your panties.

You struggle through dinner, your thighs pressed together. The food was delicious, and you and Rafe spent a good amount of time talking about your plans for Tanneyhill, all the while he was brushing his fingers along your inner thighs and your panties. He was doing it on purpose, trying to rile you up, and it was working. You eat as quickly as you can, snatching your purse and  dragging him out of the restaurant after paying and leaving a tip.

You rush towards his bike, and he can’t help but chuckle at how desperate you are. He spins you around, pulling you against his chest. “Relax, baby. We’ll be home soon.”

You whine. “I need it, Rafe.”

Your whine was like music to his ears. His hand goes to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. His eyes are dark with lust as he looks down at you. “You’ll get it.” He says, grabbing his helmet and pushing it over your head. He secures the strap under your chin, kissing your nose. He climbs onto the bike, pushing the kickstand up.

“Do you have a helmet?” You ask, fiddling with it. It was definitely too big for your head.

“Nah,” He says, looking at you over your shoulder as you climb on, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I don’t need one, baby. I’m a professional. It’ll be fine, just hold on tight.”

“Rafe,” You say, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. “Are you sure?”

Rafe sighs as he places his hands on the handlebars, hearing the tone of worry in your voice. “Sweetheart, I swear, it’ll be fine. The house isn’t far,” he sighs, shaking his head and starting the engine. “I’ll go slow, okay? Just hold on tight and don’t let go. You’ll be fine, baby, I promise.”

You have no choice but to listen to him, tightening your grip around him, your purse squished between his back and your chest. “Okay.”

He nods slightly before reaching down to grab your thighs, pulling your body to fully press against his. He wants to be able to feel your skin against his. He doesn’t say anything else as he starts to drive, slowly making his way out of the parking lot. He had been through worse. He could handle a simple drive home without a helmet.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You pull up into the driveway of your house, safe and sound. You wait for Rafe to pop the kickstand down and turn the bike off before standing, putting your purse back on your shoulder. You reach up, unclipping the helmet before pulling it off, shaking your hair out.

Rafe climbs off of the bike, gently letting go of the handles just in case it came tumbling. He bites his lip before reaching out, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him, his other hand immediately coming up to cup your neck. “You were worried for nothing, baby,” he murmurs, gently pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, your hands flying to his waist, lost in the feeling of his tongue on yours.

“‘Bout time y’all showed up.”

You and Rafe pull away, glancing down your driveway.

JJ and John B hop out of JJ’s van, parked right against the curb.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You ask, your hands dropping from their spot on Rafe’s stomach. Rafe’s grip on you tightens, feeling you pull away. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at JJ and John B as they approach the two of you.

“What, you two on a date? Couldn’t even invite us?!” JJ laughs, his hands shoved into his pockets. You thought that Rafe looked awful, but it’s clear that he had the upper hand during his fight with JJ and John B. JJ looks terrible, his eye bruised and almost swollen shut, the side of his face scratched up like he fell onto gravel. John B has a split lip and a deep purple bruise on his eyebrow, his knuckles caked with dried blood.

“Wow, JJ. You look like shit,” You say, unable to hold back. “You already got your ass beat, are you back for more?”

JJ glares at you, his hands tightening into fists in his pockets. “Careful where you run your mouth, slut,” he growls, taking a step towards you. 

That’s all it takes to piss Rafe off.  “Watch your mouth,” he growls. He steps in front of you, blocking JJ’s path.

You just laugh, unable to take him seriously. You push past Rafe, shoving your purse into his chest. “Excuse me?”

JJ stares directly at you, his expression turning into a scowl. “Careful, you don’t want to fall back into old habits. You’re just a little whore for all of the Pogues,” JJ growls, and John B puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to shut up, but it isn’t enough for JJ to back down. He takes another step forward, his eyes locked on you and your face.

Everything happens quickly after that.

Before you could say another word, Rafe is launching himself at JJ, grabbing the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the side of his van. JJ tries to land a punch, but Rafe’s faster. He just keeps landing punches, one after the other, not letting up for a second. John B. jumps on Rafe, trying to hold him back, but it isn’t enough.

You quickly rush over, grabbing the back of Rafe’s sweater, tugging him backwards. “Stop. They aren’t worth it, Rafe.” His fist is raised, and he turns to look at you, hearing the panic in your voice. He freezes when you call out to him, and John B. jumps off of his back. 

The air is tense, everything is still and dead silent. All you can hear are their heavy breaths, and John B is holding onto JJ, preventing him from attempting to start another fight.

“If either of you ever come back here,” You walk towards them, getting up in JJ's face. “I'll bury you.”

JJ doesn't back off, and he glares down at you, a cruel smirk on his face.  “You gonna do it yourself?” JJ stands up, still being held back by John B. “Sweet, helpless little thing like you? Or are you just gonna try and hide behind your boyfriend?” His eyes trail down your body as his smirk grows, his teeth stained with blood.

You consider hitting him. You really do. But you know that JJ wouldn’t be scared to hit you back, and you really didn’t want to ruin this dress.

You step back before spitting on him.

A mixture of fury and shock shoots through JJ’s whole body, his face grimacing. “You bitch, I’ll fucking—“ JJ snaps, and he starts to come at you. John B grabs onto him, holding him back, but he’s barely able to restrain JJ, trying to calm him down.

You turn around, walking away from him, back towards your house. “Take your little bitch ass back to The Cut.” 

“You little whore, did you forget where you came from? Did you forget who you used to whore yourself out to?” JJ says, still fighting against John B’s grip on him. “You’re gonna regret that someday, you hear me? Someday you’ll have no one to protect your pathetic little ass, and I’m gonna be there, laughing at you. Just watch.”

Rafe starts to walk towards JJ and John B again, but you wrap a hand around his forearm, pulling him back. “Baby, stop. He’s not worth it.” You look up at him, trying your best to get him to calm down. 

JJ finally stops trying to shake John B off, realizing that he isn’t going to be able to land a hit on you, no matter how badly he wants to. “You’re lucky you’re not with the Pogues anymore. I’d teach you some manners,” he calls after you.

You drag Rafe back inside as JJ and John B get back into JJ’s van, the tires screeching as they drive away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

if you would like to be tagged for any future parts (if i make them), please reply to this post!

part two is here!

[baby-yongbok]

Legend:

🔥Smut - MDNI (Explicit Sexual Content)

⚠️Angst - MDNI (Emotionally Strong or Violent Content)

☁️Fluff - Sweet and Sugary Content

♾️Fluff, Angst and Smut - A bit of everything [The most dominant theme will be next to the infinity]

✮ Back To Main Masterlist ✮

✧ Content Continues Below The Cut ✧

🔥Fan Fiction - Dom!Bang Chan x Sub!Fem!Reader

🔥Sunset - Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

🔥4:26am - Best friend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

🔥Paralyzed - Incubus!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

🔥Don't Go Insane - Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

🔥Take My Offer? - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x AFAB!Reader +Fake Texts

🔥One Last Time - Ex-husband!Bang Chan x afab!reader

🔥☁️Free Time - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader (Requested)

🔥☁️First Time - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader (Requested)

⚠️My Savior? - Sadodere!Bang Chan x Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

☁️⚠️Jealousy, Jealousy - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader (Requested)

⚠️Meltdown - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Autistic!Fem!Reader

⚠️A Feeling - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

⚠️D I S P A T C H - Husband! 911 Operator!Bang Chan x Afab! Reader

🔥Caught Up - Bang Chan hard thought

🔥 Car Tease - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Afab!Reader

🔥Studio Time - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Afab!Reader

🔥Sweet & Spicy - Bang Chan hard thought/ headcanons

🔥Take Care of me - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Afab!Reader

🔥Pure Bliss - Bang Chan Drabble

🔥3Racha - Boyfriend Bang Chan Drabble

🔥Head Pusher Chan

🔥Late - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Afab!Reader

☁️This is how it feels - Bang Chan soft thought

🔥Voice Notes - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Fake Texts

🔥Good Boy - Sub!Bang Chan x Dom!Fem!Reader - Fake Texts

🔥Surprise - Bang Chan x Fem!Reader x Hyunjin - Fake Texts

🔥Bad Girl - Dom!Bang Chan x Sub!Fem!Reader - Fake Texts

🔥Curfew - Mafia!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader -Fake Texts

☁️Secret Boyfriend - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Idol!Fem!Reader

☁️Missing Wolf - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Fake Texts

☁️Big Mouth - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Fake Texts

☁️Come Home - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Fake Texts

☁️My Rules: Part 1 , Part 2- Dom!Bang Chan x Sub!Fem!Reader - Fake Texts

Red Divder by @rookthornesartistry

[steddiealltheway]

It's clear to Steve that Eddie is being led on, but Eddie will not accept it. So, it's intervention time. Not because Steve has a huge crush on him and is entirely jealous but... he needs Eddie to at least see that he can do better than this asshole.

He sits Eddie down and lays out the facts. "You met him in The Hideout bathroom when he put his tongue down your throat then proceeded to ignore you the rest of the night when you left the bathroom."

"It's different for gay men, Steve."

Steve presses on. "He calls you late at night when he knows that your uncle is gone just to get off and immediately hang up after."

"It's not like that..." Eddie says with a sigh.

"He doesn't know a single thing about you either! Has he tried to ask you on a date or anything?"

Eddie gives Steve a look and stands up crossing into his space. "And why do you care so much?"

Steve's heart beats a little faster as Eddie gets a little closer to the truth. "Because you deserve better."

Eddie snorts. "I think you're just jealous."

"What?" Oh shit. He knows about his crush.

He steps even closer, but Steve doesn't back down. Eddie explains, "I've finally got someone, and you can't stand that I beat you to it. The freak outsmarted the king."

Steve shakes his head and steps back, unsure of what the hell has gotten into Eddie. "You don't mean that."

"I do, Harrington," he states with venom in his tone.

Steve can feel himself tense up. If Eddie's going to be an asshole, he can be one too. "Have fun then, Munson." He shoulder-checks him as he makes his way to his stairs.

He hears footsteps behind him as Eddie follows. "I think I'll go to The Hideout tonight with Tom," he calls after Steve, further pushing it.

Steve stops in his tracks and turns around to face Eddie. "Maybe if you opened your eyes you'd see what was right in front of you."

Eddie leans in. "Yeah, I see Tom carrying me away into the damn sunset."

Steve shakes his head and laughs humorlessly. "You really don't get it, do you?"

The other boy just stares at him looking confused and then hurt. "Just because I'm some kind of freak doesn't mean that the only chance I have with a guy is some asshole who is using me, so stop trying to convince me of that."

Steve scoffs as Eddie walks to the door. "Eddie, you know I didn't mean that. Did you not hear the part where I said-" The door slams shut. "...that you deserve better..." Steve finishes then groans. He sits on the bottom stair step and puts his head in his hands.

He hopes more than anything that his gut is wrong and Tom is a good guy. But every instinct is telling Steve that he's not.

So, Steve makes a decision that he might regret. He grabs his keys and races to his car, making his way to The Hideout. He reasons with himself that he just wants to meet the guy himself to get a proper opinion of him. And maybe he won't have to use his bat in his trunk.

When he gets to the parking lot, he sees Eddie's van and parks next to it. Here goes nothing.

He immediately feels off when he enters the bar. He can't spot Eddie anywhere and almost wonders if he had mistaken the van outside for his. Then he remembers... making out in the bathroom.

He spots the bathroom door and sighs. This is definitely not something he wants to witness. He goes anyways.

He's surprised when the door swings open as he pushes on it. Gosh, they should at least be more subtle than this. Jam the door or put a heavy- Steve freezes when he hears the heavy breathing and unmistakable sound of kissing halting. Then, a stall door bursts open and a shorter man is shoving Steve against the wall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" The man asks. God, he smells like beer and a bit like rotten eggs. And he vaguely looks familiar.

"Using the bathroom?" Steve fires back.

"Steve?"

The guy, assumedly Tom, glances over his shoulder. "You know him?"

"Yeah," Eddie says looking pissed. "You can let him go, he's fine."

Tom lets go but whips around to Eddie. "He knows about us?"

Eddie nods.

Tom gets up in his space and sneers, "What part of don't tell anyone did you not understand?"

Then, it hits Steve. He recognizes Tom as one of his dad's younger work buddies. Has a wife and two young kids and... shit.

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

Tom shoves him back into the wall. "You're fucking sorry? Is that all you have to say??"

Steve sees Eddie brace for a punch, and that's when he cuts in. "Tom Gardner, right?"

Tom jumps back, going pale. "How do you know my full name?"

Steve can't help but be a little bitchy. "Well, now you've helped me confirm it. How's your wife Ginger doing?"

Tom tries to stalk into his space saying, "Listen here you little piece of shit. I don't know how you-"

Steve cuts him off, "Threaten me or my friend again and I'll tell your whole family your little secret."

Tom walks closer. "You wouldn't dare."

Steve uses his height to his advantage and looks down at the man. "Try me."

Tom's eyes flicker between Steve's for a couple of seconds before he curses under his breath and runs out the door.

Steve barely has time to celebrate the small victory before Eddie is sliding down the wall with his head in his hands. Steve rushes over to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Eddie smacks it away. He looks up with watery eyes. "Why'd you do it?"

"I needed to meet the guy myself," Steve says, stomach rolling at the sight of Eddie so upset. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

"And are you happy?' Eddie asks, swiping at his eyes.

Steve stares down at him. "And why would I be?"

Eddie gestures to the door. "You got what you wanted. You can say 'I told you so,' but I kind of already knew he was an ass. Didn't know about the wife and kids though." He puts his head in his hands again. "How did you know about that?" He asks, muffled by his hands.

"Works with my dad," Steve answers. Eddie just hums. Steve sighs and sits on the floor next to Eddie scrunching his nose up at the disgusting bathroom floor. "That isn't what I wanted by the way. I wanted him to be a good guy, " Steve lies. He glances over at Eddie and pauses before confessing, "Actually, I didn't want him to be a good guy."

"What?" Eddie asks, heading coming up to angrily look at him.

"I didn't want him to be a good guy," Steve states again.

"And why's that?" Eddie asks. "Can't stand being the only single one?"

"That's part of the reason," Steve admits.

Eddie puts his hands on his knees and grunts as he stands up. "Glad to have solved the great mystery."

"Wait," Steve says before scrambling to stand. Luckily, Eddie stops. "Remember when I told you earlier that if you opened your eyes you'd see what was right in front of you?"

"No need to rub it in, Harrington."

Steve groans. "I was talking about me!" Steve practically yells. When Eddie turns to look at him with wide eyes he repeats, "I was talking about me."

Eddie looks him up and down. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Steve says walking toward Eddie, "That I'm entirely crazy about you, and I thought you knew until you started gushing about this Tom guy. You were right about me being jealous but for the wrong reason."

All Eddie says is, "Shit."

Steve nods in agreement.

Eddie looks down and fiddles with his rings. "I didn't mean what I said earlier. Like I said, deep down I knew but didn't want to admit it to myself or you, so I got a bit... defensive."

"A bit," Steve says with a laugh, stepping forward.

Eddie smiles bashfully. "I wish you would've said something sooner."

"Who says it's too late now?" Steve asks, taking another step forward.

"Really?" Eddie asks hopefully.

Steve smiles and almost leans in, but he remembers the door behind them. "Now, let me take you home before our first kiss ends up being in this disgusting bathroom and someone barges in."

"I'll also need some mouthwash or gum so I can erase any trace of Tom before I kiss you," Eddie says with a frown.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure to erase any trace and memory of him tonight," Steve says with a wink before holding open the door for Eddie.

"Jesus H. Christ. You're going to be the death of me."

Steve smiles. "I sincerely hope so."

[brewed-pangolin]

Soap Cuddling Headcanons

This was an ask I received forever ago, then tumblr decided to eat it because I don't know. Apologies for this taking soooo long.

18+ MDNI Sexual Themes

SFW and NFSW below the cut because why the hell not.

Soap loves to cuddle for one reason and one reason only: touch

He's touch starved. He craves it. Begs for it. Yearns for it when he's half a world away with you always creeping around in the back of his mind

And when he's home, he can barely think of letting you out of arms reach

It was a bit overwhelming st first, to have him always so close and needing so much physical affection

You didn't push him away, but you did have to maintain some personal space at the beginnings of your relationship

But that all changed after his first lengthy deployment

On those long, lonely nights. Reaching out to him and feeling nothing but cold emptiness beside you in the bed

That's where you fell into his spell and began to yearn and ache for his touch just as desperately as he did

SFW

It doesn't matter what you're doing, if you're within arms reach, your going to be wrapped up by him

Cooking? Yup. He'll have his hands on your hips while comfortably resting his chin on your shoulder

He'll whisper soft, culinary praises into your ear while he watches intently, following your fingers as they diligently move across the cutting board

"Smellin' good, hen. Be a shame if ya had t'waste any, yeah?" And you fell for it. Every single time

Don't be surprised if those hands on your hips begin to wander. It's nearly impossible for them to stay in one place for too long

Loves to wrap his arms around you during the weekend late movie nights

Will intentionally put on horror or suspense movies just so you'll scoot closer, and he can hold you tightly against him while you tremble in his arms

But where this cuddle monster truly shines is in bed (and not just after a romp)

He'll cling to you in the morning, arms wrapped around your torso and his face nestled unto the curve of your shoulders

Big spoon. Little spoon. He doesn't care. As long as his skin is touching yours, he's happy

Will prolong mornings the first few days back home, willing to push aside responsibilities and spend the entire day in bed

Netflix and Chill Extraordinaire

But Cuddling isn't only sanctioned for the bedroom

Soap is a romantic at heart, and he'll whisk you away to his favorite outlook up in the mountains in his 4Runner

Just to build a fort of blankets and pillows in the back and watch the sunset like a true Casanova

And movie nights are best under the stars at your local drive-in

Nestled deep within in his arms as you leave the world behind to enjoy each other's comforting embrace (and loads of overly butterd popcorn)

NSFW

Soap MacTavish is the absolute KING of aftercare, especially after your more vigorous and enthusiastic sessions

He'll keep you close, wrapped within his muscular arms, and pressed against his sweat drenched torso as you ride out the last waves of your climax

"So good f'me, lass. Ya did so good." He'll whisper, voice muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck

He's in no rush after a lengthy romp. You need 15 minutes? 30 minutes? Two hours? Soap's not going anywhere

Except to get the towels. He knows he makes a mess, and your legs are currently jelly after your umpteenth orgasm

But if you already planned on having an earth-shattering sexcapade, the towels are already on the nightstand because...

Cockwarming

Soap can't help it. He loves being buried to the hilt deep inside you

Especially when he softens and your walls continually pulse and milk every last drop of him

And you pull the most beautifully pornographic whimpers from his lips

"Fuckin' hell, bonnie. You an' that greedy lil cunt a'yers.."

And as previously stated, he's in no rush to pull out.

In fact, he may just fall asleep.

His arms caging you tightly against him as he drifts into a restful slumber with his cock sheathed snuggly within your silkened heat

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @obligatoryghoststare @jynxmirage @mykneeshurt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @thetrashpossum @simpingoverquestionablemen @kkaaaagt @designateddeadend

[rootedinrevisions]

Friends (with Benefits) Don't: Part 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the final part of this story that I have written (as of right now). I'm going to try to get some of my other WIPs finished and posted but definitely may revisit Jake & Halo down the road because these two were fun to write about!

SUMMARY: After recovering from this mission Jake decides it's time to take Halo on their first date. But it has to be special. Dinner and a movie just won't do.

OTHER PART(S): PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I

PART 6 I PART 7

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

WARNINGS: FLUFF.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS BELOW

Jake had been thinking about this date for weeks. It wasn’t just any night out; this was their first real date—one where there weren’t any distractions, hospital beds, or work keeping them apart. He wanted it to be special, but not over the top. Simple, thoughtful, something that showed her how much she meant to him.

He wasn’t exactly known for being the romantic type, but with her, things were different. She made him want to try, to push past his comfort zone and show her how deeply he cared.

Jake sat at the small table in his apartment, a notepad in front of him, scribbling ideas. He knew the usual fancy dinners and upscale restaurants wouldn’t feel like them—too impersonal. He wanted this to be something she’d remember, something with meaning. His eyes flicked to his phone, the picture of her smiling after their impromptu boat ride last week was still his lock screen.

That’s when the idea hit him.

He dialed Penny’s number before he could second-guess it.

“Hey, Penny, I need a favor,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “How would you feel about letting me borrow the boat for the night?”

The conversation with Penny went smoother than expected, and before he knew it, the pieces were falling into place. A sunset sail, a quiet dinner at her favorite beachside spot, and, if he could manage it, a moonlit walk on the beach afterward. It was simple, but it was them.

He made a mental note to keep things low-key with the planning, wanting to surprise her. Jake smiled to himself, imagining her reaction when she saw the boat. He knew she’d be impressed. And if there was one thing Jake liked to do, it was impressing her.

Satisfied with his plan, he sent her a quick message: “Hey, beautiful. Wear something nice tonight. Be ready by 7. And trust me.”

Later that night, Jake could feel his heart pounding a little harder than usual. It wasn’t nerves—he was a fighter pilot, after all—but something about this night made him feel more grounded, more present than usual. This wasn’t just about impressing her; this was about showing her that he was serious, that their relationship wasn’t just about convenience or casual fun. This was real.

By the time 6:45 rolled around, Jake was standing in front of the mirror, straightening his shirt and adjusting his collar for the third time. He smirked at his own reflection, shaking his head. When had he become the guy who fussed over his appearance before a date? Normally a quick glance was all he did and then he was on his way. But with her, it felt important. He wanted to look his best for her, to show her he’d put thought into tonight.

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the counter—bright, colorful, and full of life, just like her—and gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror before heading out the door.

The drive to her place was quick, but it gave him time to think, to go over the plan again in his head. He wanted everything to be perfect, and he hoped she’d love the little surprises he had in store. He arrived five minutes early, because showing up late wasn’t an option tonight.

When he pulled up to her apartment, Jake’s heart did an extra flip in his chest. He spotted her silhouette through the window, moving around as she got ready. His stomach fluttered with anticipation as he parked the car and grabbed the flowers.

He took a deep breath and knocked on her door, his fingers tapping nervously against the bouquet. When the door opened, all the jitters melted away. There she stood, looking stunning, her smile lighting up the doorway.

“Hey, darlin’,” Jake said, flashing her a grin. “You look... wow.”

He held out the flowers, watching as her eyes lit up at the sight of them. They weren’t anything too fancy, just a simple bouquet from the supermarket, but the way her face softened when she took them told him everything he needed to know.

“These are beautiful,” she said, taking the flowers from him and inhaling their sweet scent. “Thank you.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe as she turned to put them in a vase. He watched her for a moment, feeling that familiar warmth in his chest whenever she was near. She moved around the room with a grace that mesmerized him, and he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to have her in his life.

“Ready to go?” he asked once she had the flowers arranged.

She nodded, grabbing her small bag and stepping out of the apartment. Jake offered her his arm, feeling her fingers loop through his with a sense of ease and comfort that he never wanted to take for granted.

“So,” she started as they headed toward his car, “you’re not going to tell me where we’re going?”

He shook his head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nope. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

She raised an eyebrow but smiled, knowing that whatever he had planned, it would be worth the mystery.

As they pulled up to the marina, the sight of the boat waiting for them caught her eye, and a flicker of surprise crossed her face. Jake grinned at her reaction, parking the car and coming around to open her door.

“You ready?” he asked, offering his hand to help her out.

Her eyes darted from the boat back to him, a mixture of excitement and skepticism playing on her features. “Wait… you’re taking me on a boat?” she asked, biting her lip. “I didn’t even know you could sail.”

He chuckled, brushing off her concern with a wave of his hand. “I had some help,” he admitted, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “Mav and Penny gave me a few lessons the last couple of weeks. Figured I should learn a thing or two.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the boat with a slight grin. “And you're sure you’re not just winging it?” she teased, trying to suppress her nerves as he led her down the dock.

“Trust me,” Jake said with a wink, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “I got this.”

When they reached the boat, Jake stepped onto the deck first, offering his hand to her once again. She hesitated for just a second, her eyes scanning the water below them before taking a deep breath and grasping his hand. With a gentle tug, he helped her onto the boat, steadying her as she found her footing.

“There you go, darlin’. Piece of cake,” he said, flashing her that signature confident grin.

She looked around the boat, impressed by how prepared he seemed. It was a calm evening, the sky above streaked with soft hues of orange and pink as the sun began its descent. The water was tranquil, barely a ripple as the boat gently swayed in the marina. Jake moved with ease, untying the ropes and readying the sails like he’d been doing it for years.

The boat began to glide smoothly away from the dock, and as they drifted farther from the shore, the tension she felt about his sailing skills began to melt away. The wind caught the sails, and Jake guided them through the water with confident hands on the helm, his focused expression softening as he glanced over at her.

“You’re really good at this,” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. “I didn’t know you were hiding this talent.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

She leaned against the railing, watching the shoreline fade into the distance as the boat cruised farther out. The city’s lights grew faint, leaving only the sound of the water lapping against the boat and the breeze rustling the sails. It was peaceful—an entirely different world from the chaos and noise of everyday life. For the first time in a while, she felt truly relaxed.

Once Jake had guided them to a secluded spot far enough from the shore, he dropped the anchor, letting the boat gently float in place. He turned to her, the soft light from the setting sun casting a warm glow over them. Without a word, he moved toward her, his arm slipping around her waist as he led her to a cushioned spot on the deck. He sat down first, pulling her close until she was nestled against him, her back resting against his chest.

His arms wrapped securely around her, and she felt herself melting into his embrace, her body instinctively relaxing. She let out a quiet sigh of contentment, closing her eyes as the warmth of his body and the gentle rocking of the boat lulled her into a state of calm.

Jake pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there for a moment. She smiled at the gesture, her heart swelling with affection. Everything about this moment—the boat, the water, the fading sun—felt perfect. But most of all, it was him. It was the way he made her feel safe, cherished, and utterly content.

“You good?” he asked quietly, his voice low and soothing.

“Mhm,” she murmured, tilting her head back slightly so she could meet his eyes. “I’m really good.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning down to place another kiss on her forehead.

“I’m glad,” he whispered, his voice carrying a rare tenderness that she’d come to love.

For a long while, they sat there in comfortable silence, just listening to the sound of the water around them. Her eyes fluttered shut again, and she felt the gentle rise and fall of Jake’s chest beneath her. His arms tightened slightly around her, and she couldn’t help but think that this—being in his arms, away from everything else—was exactly where she wanted to be.

As the sky darkened, the stars beginning to peek out one by one, Jake spoke again, his voice rumbling in her ear.

“You know,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed anything as much as this.”

She smiled, opening her eyes to look up at him. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect when you told me to trust you to plan the date.”

“And now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Now… I’m really glad I did.”

His smile widened, and he gave her a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as they stayed close, neither of them wanting to break the moment.

“Good,” he said softly. “Because I plan on doing a lot more of this.”

They both laughed quietly, the sound mingling with the gentle splash of the water around them. As the boat rocked them in its gentle rhythm, she closed her eyes once again, allowing herself to fully sink into the warmth of Jake’s embrace. Wrapped in his arms, the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them and the infinite possibilities ahead.

After their peaceful time on the boat, Jake helped her back onto the dock with the same care and confidence he’d shown before. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky awash in purples and deep blues as they made their way along the beach to her favorite restaurant. Nestled right by the water, the restaurant had an outdoor patio with string lights casting a soft, romantic glow over the tables. It was the perfect spot—casual yet intimate, just like the evening had been so far.

As they approached the entrance, Jake glanced over at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Still trust me to make the right calls?" he teased lightly.

She grinned, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "So far, you're doing great, Seresin. Don't get too cocky, though."

He chuckled, guiding her inside, where a hostess greeted them with a friendly smile and led them to a table near the edge of the patio. The sound of the waves was a constant backdrop, soothing and rhythmic, as they sat down and settled in. Jake pulled out her chair, and she couldn’t help but smile at the small chivalrous gesture.

Once they were seated, she looked out at the view, the beach just beyond, with the moon starting to reflect off the water. “You really went all out tonight,” she said, a hint of admiration in her voice.

Jake leaned back in his chair, looking entirely at ease as he smiled at her. “Nothing but the best for you.”

Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she reached for the menu, trying to hide the flutter of butterflies that his simple words caused. As they browsed the menu, Jake snuck glances at her, admiring the way her eyes lit up when she looked over the options. The flickering candlelight between them added a romantic glow to the moment, and it wasn’t long before their waitress came to take their orders.

Once the waitress left, Jake leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table as he looked at her. “You know,” he began, his tone casual yet sincere, “I was thinking earlier... I’m pretty lucky.”

She raised an eyebrow, setting her menu aside. “Oh? How’s that?”

Jake’s gaze softened, and he reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing hers. “I get to do this with you. I mean, I know I’m a handful sometimes,” he said with a playful smirk, “but you still put up with me.”

Her heart swelled at his words. “You’re not a handful,” she said, smiling warmly. “Well, okay, maybe sometimes.” She laughed softly. “But tonight... this has been perfect, Jake.”

He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “Good.”

They continued talking, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they discussed everything from their favorite childhood memories to places they wanted to travel. Jake kept the mood light, cracking jokes and teasing her with that signature charm, but every so often, his compliments would slip through, genuine and heartfelt.

“You look amazing tonight, by the way,” he said at one point, his eyes sweeping over her with unmistakable appreciation. “I think I forgot to mention that.”

She blushed, ducking her head slightly. “You didn't, but I’ll let you say it again,” she teased, glancing back up at him. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Not so bad?” he echoed, feigning offense as he placed a hand over his heart. “Darlin’, I’m crushed.”

She laughed, reaching out to nudge his hand playfully. “Okay, fine. You look great, Jake.”

“That’s more like it,” he said with a wink, his grin widening as he took another sip of his drink.

Their food arrived not long after, and as they started to eat, the conversation became more thoughtful. Jake asked her about her week, genuinely interested in the small details of her day-to-day life. She found herself opening up more than she expected, telling him about work, her friends, and even the things that had been stressing her out. And the entire time, Jake listened attentively, nodding along and offering reassurances whenever she expressed a worry or frustration.

“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” he remarked after she finished talking about a particularly hectic project. “I don’t know how you manage it all.”

She shrugged, smiling softly. “I guess I just take it one day at a time.”

Jake reached across the table again, his hand resting on top of hers. “Well, if you ever need someone to help take your mind off it... I’m here.”

There was something in the way he said it—sincere and steady—that made her heart skip a beat. She squeezed his hand in response, grateful for his support. “I know. And I really appreciate that, Jake.”

They lingered over dinner, savoring both the food and the company. The beachside restaurant had become more lively as the night progressed, but for the two of them, it felt like they were in their own little world. Jake continued to sprinkle in compliments throughout the meal, each one making her blush or smile. And the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made her feel more special than she ever had before.

As they finished their meals, Jake leaned back in his chair, gazing out at the ocean for a moment before turning his attention back to her. “There’s one more thing we need to do tonight,” he said, his voice low and soft.

She tilted her head curiously. “What’s that?”

He stood up, offering his hand. “Come take a walk with me.”

She smiled, slipping her hand into his as she stood up. Together, they made their way down to the beach, the soft sand beneath their feet as the gentle sound of the waves filled the air. The moon had risen fully by now, casting a silvery light over the water, and the breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, her hand still in his as they strolled along the shoreline. Jake squeezed her hand occasionally, glancing over at her with a content smile. She couldn’t help but marvel at how thoughtful he’d been tonight—everything from the boat ride to the dinner to this peaceful walk had been perfectly planned.

“This is nice,” she murmured, breaking the silence. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

Jake smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “I remember you saying that,” he said, his voice warm. “Figured it was time to make that wish come true.”

She beamed at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You’re full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’m just getting started,” he teased, nudging her playfully with his shoulder.

They continued walking until they reached a quieter part of the beach, where Jake suddenly stopped, turning to face her. There was a seriousness in his expression now, though the warmth and affection in his eyes remained.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his tone shifting.

Her heart skipped a beat, sensing the weight of whatever he was about to say. “What is it?”

Jake took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before meeting her gaze. “I got my next deployment,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m staying at North Island for at least the next year.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, a rush of emotions flooding her at once—relief, happiness, and excitement all mingling together. “Jake... that’s amazing,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, taking a step closer to her. “It means we’ve got time, darlin’. Time to figure this out... you and me. No more rules or boundaries. Just us.”

She felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Jake wrapped his arms around her in return, holding her close as they stood there, enveloped in each other’s warmth.

As they pulled back slightly, Jake pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then her nose, before finally capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, their foreheads rested together, and the world around them seemed to disappear.

“I’m all in,” Jake whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.

“So am I,” she whispered back, her heart full.

And in that moment, with the ocean stretching out before them and the stars above, everything felt right. It was just the two of them—together.

[simpleeindulge]

What You're Getting for Valentine's Day!

Info: Fem/reader x One Piece Men, Monster Trio, Eustass Kid, Trafalgar Law, fluff, minor suggestive ideas, soft Headcanons

He's no Casanova, but the man does pay attention.

While Sanji, Nami, and Usopp are trying to hook him up with the usual stuff, Zoro will get you something you want.

That journal and pen set you liked, that hairpiece you thought was cute, or even the shoes you thought would look good with a dress you haven't worn yet.

He doesn't do it to be different or because he thinks the day is dumb, which he does; he does it because he knows you will like it (and prove to the cook that he does know something about romance).

But yes, he will give you all the gifts the rest of the crew had ready for him anyway.

His gift surprises you because you don't think he pays attention, but the man does.

Now, he is new to this and does and does not get it. He loves you every day, so why is today different. After getting schooled by Franky, Usopp, and Sanji, Luffy is on board. (Nami offers help, but the boys tell her they got this.)

What follows is some chaos. He will beg Sanji to show him how to make chocolates, ask Usopp to help make a teddy bear, and beg Nami to find an island so he can find flowers. (Robin did offer hers, but Luffy wants to do this on his own.)

What you get is truly something from the heart. A box of lumpy-looking chocolate hearts, a bear that, for some reason, shoots lasers (Franky's idea), and a bouquet of poisonous jungle flowers.

It's hard not to smile at Luffy when he looks proudly at you with his gifts.

You know Luffy cares, and it feels good to see that he had fun treating you.

The whole nine yards and then some. You're drowning in chocolate and smuttered with flowers. It's so bad that the other men beg Nami to dock the ship so they can escape. (They'll be back later for the food.)

That's fine by him because he has other things planned for you, starting with a long white box with a dark red bow.

Yes, it's lingerie, but it's good quality and something you would wear.

He'll romance you into it by making you a bath, lighting candles, and setting out all your favorite lotions and oils.

The man may be a pervert, but he knows how to turn up the charm and treat you special.

You're basically going to have the Valentine's Day the stores wish they could promote.

Valen-what-now?! HaHAHAHhahaaa!

Okay, but seriously, Kid is going to that guy who remembers at the very last minute and could give a shit.

Killer is your savior in this department because he knows how to speak "Kid" and what could motivate him. You and sex.

Expect lingerie, flavored oils, heels, jewelry, strawberry chocolates, whipped cream (you know why), silk rope in your favorite color, and candles (to be used differently if he can talk you into it.)

Killer will help set the mood with roses and candles(different ones) and leave the rest to Kid.

Kid may be a rough diamond, but he knows how to turn on the charm, and you won't see it coming till it's too late.

I would laugh here as well, but Law is an intelligent man. Happy girlfriend equals...PEACE!

He'll do the three essential gifts and think that he is set. It should keep you happy, right?

Well, it will, but after getting a second option from Ikkaku, Law is shocked to learn that he is boring with his lazy Valentine’s wooing. His gifts are fine, but he has no other plans, just the usual daily work!

In a panic, Law will rethink his plan just in time to order the ship to find land. He'll ask you to go with him to a nice restaurant and maybe a walk to see the sunset.

It's cheesy and still predictable, but you love it because Law does not leave his comfort zone for anyone except you (and Bepo). While the flowers are lovely, his time and attention are a better gift.