#granted there might be something else going on but how is that your first thought

[blueblossomrose]

TW boys with a fem reader who is basically Rapunzel from Tangled. Like, reader has magical long hair that can heal and it's also unbreakable. Plus, she has a kind and passionate personality but don't take her for granted, she can be fiesty when she wants and can stand on her own.

Characters: Ace Trappola, Azul Ashengrotto, Epel Felmier, Rollo Flamme, Ruggie Bucchi, Jamil Viper, Fellow Honest

Content: Rapunzel!Fem!MC/Reader, maybe broken english, references Tangled (2010), some swear words? maybe

Note(s): Thank you for the ask and sorry for the extreme delay 😭 I chose the characters that I thought best matched the request <3

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Summary: What if the prefect of the Ramshackle Dorm was a certain princess? One who has never left her tower, who has very long, magical hair, a pet chameleon, and uses a frying pan to defend herself.

He would probably make fun of you. I mean, besides being a newbie to Twisted Wonderland you're still so naive?

He might try to trick you with some harmless little lies, just to be funny, but as time goes by, he becomes more and more enchanted by you.

He might ask her to heal him of minor injuries just to see how it works, but he would pretend he didn't care much.

He would find it hilarious that you uses a frying pan to defend yourself. At first, he might tease you that it's a weird way to fight, but after he gets hit (probably because he's too cheeky), he realizes that you actually knows how to use it and learns to respect that.

Your magical hair, the way you handled things... even the frying pan hits you gave him over the head when he was going too far. He realizes that he enjoys your company more than a friend.

Because you're different from the people he knows. You are guileless, you doesn't lie like he does, and your honesty comes from a place of genuine kindness. This slowly disarms him.

He'd be irritated (but secretly confused) to realize that he likes to protect you when someone tries to take advantage of your naivety.

He might end up getting jealous if someone else gets too much attention from you. He would cover it up by saying he's just "keeping you out of trouble," but anyone would see that he's clearly bothered.

He doesn't get along with Pascal at first, his rivalry is even more intense with the little reptile than with Grim, actually.

Eventually, he becomes attached to Pascal as he has become attached to everyone in the group. The chameleon takes advantage of the opportunity to sit on his shoulders or on his orange hair.

When he's getting into trouble, you grab him with your hair and keep him from making more trouble, often turning him upside down.

When your hair was braided for better mobility, he was: 😳

It's in book 4 after the confusion with Jamil and Scarabia, he was semi-ready to declare himself more honestly.

"Look, I don't know if it's because you hit me over the head with that frying pan or if you really did charm me with that shiny hair, but... I think I like you. And before you say something silly... you better tell me you like me too."

Your very limited contact with men meant that you didn't have as many prejudices regarding height or... appearance.

This kind of made you not assume he was a girl and just ask him directly. This was enough to make Epel feel more comfortable with you.

Unlike Ace, his first contact with Pascal was surprisingly calm and he likes the little chameleon, the feeling is mutual.

Over time, Epel realized that he admired your strength and innocence. You are a bit naive but you knows how to defend yourself! He wanted to know how to handle that frying pan as well as you.

You encourage him beyond his insecurities, able to make him see the best in himself and show it to the world.

It's in book 6 that he realizes your true determination. I mean, the way you took out those robots was incredible!

He watched your magical hair heal everyone... truly so wonderful it's almost unbelievable. You have the gift of healing.

It was probably Vil who made your hair easier to move with a braid. Epel who put on the decorations, though. He blushed at your compliments.

He was ready to admit it when he's tied up in your hair.

"You... look even more beautiful from this angle..."

Upon hearing about the mysterious newcomer, Azul sees an opportunity. If you is lost and confused, perhaps you needs help... and who better than him to offer your a "small" contract?

He unfortunately (perhaps fortunately) was unable to actually contact you until the events from book 3.

Upon meeting you, Azul is intrigued. You unusual beauty, the sparkle in your eyes and, most importantly, your long magical hair pique his interest.

Your genuine kindness began to disconcert him. How could someone be so honest, so without ulterior motives? It was an irritating naivety… and at the same time, endearing.

Yet, you know how to defend yourself very well... much better than well, in fact.

When Floyd made a joke that your hair sometimes looked like Azul's tentacles, he found himself thinking about it more than he should have.

During book 4 you two get closer, you're practically his knight in shining armor. Although due to the situation, it should be the other way around.

Pascal didn't like him, but he started to like him after he helped you. Azul is happy that he no longer feels threatened by a animal that size.

He feels safe when he's being healed by you and your magical hair... maybe that means something.

You seem curious about your octopus form. It makes him feel embarrassed, but... you look so trusting. It's weird. He doesn't want to trust anyone but you just make his brain relax. It's scary.

To the point where he suddenly finds himself opening up to you about things he didn't want to talk initially, he suddenly stops with a red face and that stupid smile on your face only makes him redder.

"You look more confident with that braid, [Name]-san. Beautiful flowers."

Your long magical hair drew attention wherever you went, especially because it was uncut and shiny. Some students were curious, others suspicious, but none reacted like Rollo Flamme.

From the first moment he saw you, Rollo felt a mixture of fascination and contempt. Your hair clearly possessed magical properties, and the mere fact of its existence was a reminder of what he hated most.

However, you behavior baffled him. Unlike the arrogant mages he despised, you was kind and naive, in awe of everything around you. You asked questions about Noble Bell College, about Fleur City, about the Bell of Salvation, listening to each answer with an enchanted glint in your eyes.

He inevitably treated you differently than he treated the other students at NRC. At first it was to help his charade and also because you were a girl, but later it became much more genuine than he wanted.

Rollo tried to keep his distance, but he couldn’t help but feel a peculiar irritation whenever she got into trouble or when anyone got too close to her.

You used a frying pan to defend yourself, which was, in his view, completely absurd. And yet strangely effective. He witnessed this when a student tried to cut a lock of your hair and received a direct hit.

Your chameleon, who seemed to constantly judge him, became more of a problem. Pascal didn't like it when he got too close to you, and stuck his tongue in Rollo's ear. Mortifying. For Rollo at least.

The chaos of Rollo’s plan was coming to an end. Rollo knew he was defeated. But he refused to show weakness, even in the face of the fae prince. His body was exhausted, wounded, but before Malleus could deliver the final blow, [Name] acted, your long magical hair shot forward, coiling around Rollo and lifting him into the air, upside down.

His eyes widened, confused, indignant. “What do you think you’re doing?!” he would ask.

“Stopping Malleus from turning you to ash,” you replied, as if it were obvious. “You already lost. You doesn’t need to hurt yourself anymore.”

Rollo gritted his teeth, hating this feeling of helplessness. He tried to struggle, but the your strands were stronger than they looked. “I don’t need your pity,” he growled.

Before he could protest more, you began to sing. The golden glow enveloped his body, and Rollo felt something strange, a soft warmth running through his wounds, the pain dissipating, the fatigue fading.

He hated it. Hated the magic, hated the feeling of vulnerability. But most of all, he hated the fact that, for a brief moment, he didn’t want you to stop.

He hated all magic... but yours was an exception.

He helped re-braid your hair at the ball.

"Come here. I'll pick some flowers..."

Jamil imprisons you as part of his plan in the event of Book 4. You, who has never seen the world beyond your tower before Twisted Wonderland, not exactly panicking? But you understand that the situation is critical so you try to escape.

While trying to maintain his cover as a loyal servant, he mentally mocks your naivety at first, but is soon surprised by you determination in trying to escape... using a frying pan.

After book 4, he learned valuable lessons about how not to mess with you or your pets... and also that frying pans hurt a lot.

When forced to be around you, he begins to feel sympathy for you. He recognizes your kindness and passion, unlike Kalim, your ignorance was more justified in Jamil's opinion alone, of course.

Pascal didn't like him very much from the beginning, but when they understood each other, it became a beautiful friendship. I guess reptiles understand each other?

He would watch with unparalleled calm as you grabbed him with your hair... well, expected.

In book 5, he pulled you to the mat before Vil could even get close.

After several interactions in which he begins to realize your strength and kindness, Jamil falls in love with you. He sees in you someone who, despite your naivety, has the power to heal not only physically but emotionally. Everyone likes you, one way or another.

Just like Ace, he was 😳 when you showed off your Vil-braided hair. You look beautiful either way, but your hair has an extra charm this way.

"Nice braids... I can make some more for you. H-hm, if you want, of course."

Perfect Flynn Rider. Scoundrel, thief, humble origins... the name is Ruggie Bucchi.

He tried to take advantage of her naivety several times while they were getting to know each other, but after book 2, the relationship actually improved.

Whenever he tried to steal something from you without you seeing, Pascal would magically appear next to him and stick his tongue in Ruggie's ear.

"AARGH! Not again!" Ruggie shook like crazy, trying to get the little animal away. Pascal, in turn, just went back to his place, satisfied.

During the chaos at the book 3, Before Ruggie could react, he was lifted into the air, since [Name], in the heat of the moment, had used her long magical hair to hold him back. But, lost in the conversation, she simply forgot he was there. Ruggie was shaking his head, huffing. "Hey, uh… princess? I'm still here…" you continued talking to Azul, completely distracted. Then, without realizing it, you let your hair down.

Azul arched an eyebrow as Jade and Floyd watched with amusement. You covered your mouth, looking at Ruggie lying on the ground. "Oops..."

Ruggie groaned, not having the strength to curse.

Ruggie would sit with you at Savanaclaw, after seeing you upset with yourself for losing your dorm and being naive, and there he talks a little about his poor background, making you laugh a little with his statements and good mood, only to make you laugh again at the end when he tells you not to tell anyone, after all, "that would ruin his reputation."

Ruggie was no stranger to injuries. He was always getting into sticky situations, and when you saw some scrapes and bruises after a confrontation, your first instinct was: “Stay still.” Before he could question it, your hair wrapped around the wounds.

After everything they had been through in Book 3, Ruggie was tasked with taking you back to your dorm. Normally, he would have balked at doing something that didn’t directly benefit him, but for some reason, he accepted without hesitation. On the way, you talked about everything you had learned and how you felt. Ruggie listened, more attentively than he would like to admit. When you arrived, you smiled at him. His heart gave a strange leap.

"...Tsk. I hope you know I don't do anything for free, princess."

Perfect Flynn Rider #2. More than Ruggie, even.

The first time they met, he had ignored her. He was more focused on convincing the 'elite' of Night Raven College to accept his invitation and come to Playful Land.

When [Name] arrived at Playful Land, he finally noticed her. Her long, shiny hair adorned with flowers, her delicate face, and curious eyes. A naive, impressionable girl dazzled by the new world around her? The easiest prey he'd had in years... until she wasn't.

Pascal, her pet chameleon, hated Fellow Honest at first sight and immediately tried to attack him, slapping his face with its curled tail.

When the deception was revealed, Fellow's plan, she wasted no time. One clean strike with the frying pan. With the skill of her magical hair, she quickly tied Fellow and Gidel up, leaving them no chance of escape.

When Fellow woke up, he found himself trapped in [Name]'s hair, who was staring down at him with a steady gaze. “Very well, Fellow Honest…” she said slowly, her eyes narrowed. “I need to find my friends, and so I’ve decided to trust… you.” Fellow blinked in disbelief. “A horrible decision, really” he replied.

Fellow even tries to escape a few times, but every time he tries, she tightens her grip on her hair. Gidel remains silent and worries about Fellow, but he can't deny that it's a little funny to see him trying to escape before being dragged back to [Name].

During the scuffle to save the boys, Fellow had gotten himself badly hurt. He just agreed to guide [Name] to where they were and didn't want to get involved, but his plans didn't go as planned. He didn't even realize how bad it was until [Name] grabbed him and wrapped her magical hair around his body. And then... he was unharmed. Fellow looked down at himself, horrified. "Since when do you do THAT?" He asked. She blinked, and laughs awkwardly. "I guess... since forever?" He looked at her even more in disbelief. "And no one thought it was important to tell me?!" He was completely baffled. Healing magic like this was rare. How could a girl lost in the middle of nowhere have such an ability?

During this whole situation I can imagine several iconic scenes. Like: "Sorry, boys. I don't sing." / "I could get used to a view like this..." / "The only thing I want to do with your hair is to get out of it!… literally!" / "I know not who you are, or how I came to find you, but may I just say… hi. How ya doin'?" / "Stay calm. It can probaly smell fear."

Even, the NRC students chose not to report him. She just said, “If you get arrested, what will happen to Gidel?” and he felt his stomach turn in a strange way.

Fellow Honest had never been someone easy to impress, much less change. But something about you disconcerted him. Not only did you not treat him with disdain even after discovering his terrible intentions, you also seemed to understand something about him that even he himself did not. When he was around you, he felt as if he knew where he was going. And at last he see the light.

"Did I ever tell you, I have got a thing for your hair color?"

[fanzou]

To Be Vigilant

✗ Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x GN!Reader

✗ Genre: Fluff

✗ Total WC: 0.8K

“‘N…. I don’t know, he’s just so… handsome and masculine and so great in all the right ways.” You say so dreamily, palm propping your head up.

Robin just takes it all in, not ‘cause she wants to. But because she has to. She really does love you. Truly. Had it been anyone else she’d probably grow just a smidge irritated. Well, not like she wasn’t right now. This, here, right now, her zen time? She’d likely pick up a book and enjoy her favorite drink and go to town, and that was the initial plan—but alas, here you were talking about Zoro like a schoolgirl in love.

So yeah, she was a smidge irritated but she’d tolerate it, for you.

“Do you want me to stop talking about him?” You smile, sheepishly while tracing the outline of the wooden table.

If Nami was here, she’d answer with the most blunt and straightforward, YES! ever. Pity for Robin that she wasn’t there to accompany the two of you.

She smiles back, just a little lighter. “I can’t promise I won’t cancel you out while you do.”

You whine her name, resting your head on her shoulder while she swirls her coffee around with a spoon, you have a light grip of her arm.

Like seriously, if it were anyone else.

“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” Would be the logical approach, and she, by all means, is right. But you often defied logic, many times reaping the consequences. This was one of those times. “You never truly know what he might be thinking.”

“That’s just it. It could go so wrong!”

“It could also go right.” She peers down at your desperate figure, clinging onto her like she was your life-line.

Shit, couldn’t argue with that.

You sigh in a last effort of defiance, “I think I’m fine with liking him from a distance. It’s not doing me any harm right now,” you resume in your own activity—that being fiddling with your fingers, pulling away from the black-banged woman. “Yeah… I mean, watching him work out in the Crow’s Nest is kinda hot.” She giggles at your remark. Wow, that’s kinda surprising.

She’d probably regret it though, it grants you a chance to egg the topic on, “There’s something so charming about his attitude and personality, though. Like he could be such a good boyfriend—No, he’d be a great husband.”

Robin says nothing, a little hm, flipping to the next page over.

And this is where you kinda start feeling bad, it’s not the first she’s gotten an ear load about how dreamy and handsome you thought Zoro was. Probably wouldn’t be the last, either. You’ve yapped Nami’s ear off about it and she was not as generous when it came to your rambles. Partially because there was so much she could take and partially because she cringed at how highly you spoke of him. She couldn’t take it anymore, so… you moved onto your next victim. A voice of reason, (like you’d ever listen to reason anyways.) Robin.

Surprisingly she speaks, “You should be more careful with where you say things.”

…Okay? You look back up to her after your arms are crossed over the other with your cheek leaning on top for a little duration of time, and get a look at the woman as an effort to make her push a little further into her statement.

But she doesn’t. Abruptly Robin stands from her seat, she closes her book and brings her coffee with her. She looks over to the door, as if someone was there—then to you.

“I wish you the best of luck with the swordsman.”

You giggle, “You say that like he’s—”

Oh.

Oh.

And then your worst fears come true. You lose vision of her, and then it’s replaced with the thief of your heart.

Oh shit.

His tone is condescending, and he lifts his head up as if to mock you, “Like I’m?” His shoulder is leaning against the door frame of the room; you’re frozen in place. Eyes as wide as flying saucers, hands gripping the nearby surface. You whimper very slightly.

Shit, was this her plan all along? Was that why she giggled at what you said? She wasn’t really trying to egg you on to speak anymore but, it was so perfect. She did this on purpose, get you to spill in possibly the most convenient time possible. You should’ve known. She’s never taken interest like this before.

And how couldn’t you sense his presence?!

Your palms are sweaty, you’re hot all over, “Like… like…” But he only grins, and it’s so sadistic, he takes delight in your shocked state. He’s truly the devil.

“Guessin’ we’ve got lots to talk about, huh?”

[seefasters]

i love reddit people so much sometimes. "why were they so okay with killing one of two people who can hunt? why aren't they thinking logically? maybe something's poisoning them and that's affecting the way they think?" besties half of that cabin has visual/auditory hallucinations and is literally starving like why do you think they arent thinking straight

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

c/w: rafe being mean & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

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Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.   

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.    

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.    

“What are you doin’? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.   

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed. 

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” the muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.    

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”   

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps.  

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.    

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.    

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.   

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” he mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.    

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.   

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.   

“Shit, just needed somethin’ to suck on, huh?” he pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.    

“So fuckin’ pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anythin’ daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.    

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.    

“Feels nice to have somethin’ in your mouth, doesn’t it?” he ogles her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.    

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.    

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” he feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.    

“Daddy, need your...” her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth.  

“Can’t really hear you, baby,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.    

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.   

"What did you say?" his lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.    

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.    

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.    

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.   

“Don't think you could take dad’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.    

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.    

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, sweetheart,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.    

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants.  

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whinin’ about wantin’ me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” there’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.   

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.    

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.   

“What was that?” the line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.    

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” he grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.   

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her.  

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” he rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he’ll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves. 

[rebelscums]

Little Flower (Qimir x Padawan reader)

Rating: Fluff | Kissing | Light grinding | A pillow is thrown

Summary: You are the padawan to a masked man you had no name of. You have been by his side for years, training and mastering the arts of what he refers to as the dark side of the force. However, with Mae entering your life as his new favorite, you are beginning to question whether you belong there anymore. Something that you run to your closet fiend to talk about. Who knew confessing to Qimir about your trouble would bring a life changing moment.

“I’m not strong enough for him.” That was the first thing you said to Qirmir as you entered his shop. Borrowed shop? You didn’t care.

The defeat in your tone was enough to alert him of your dismay.

“That’s it. I’m officially useless to him. He doesn’t need me.” You blurted out all of your frustrations to the only person you have ever been able to call a friend, “All he cares about is his new acolyte Mae.”

You were both stationed here with Mae as she completed the next part of her trial which was to kill Master Torbin… Without a weapon.

“What makes you say that?” Qimir popped his head up from behind his counter.

“He’s been making me run these needless errands lately that literally anyone else in the galaxy can do.” You set a bag of powdered gold leaves onto the counter, “This took me an entire day to find and when I go back to the spot I left him, he was gone! Gone! Didn’t tell me where either.” You said frustratingly, “So I figured you might know what to do with this.”

Qimir took the bag and peered inside, a please look on his face as he hummed, “Actually I do. It’s the leaves I need to make a poison Mae requested.”

“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of her name.

Mae seemed to be taking the eyes of your master and Qimir lately. Something that made your eyes turn green with the overpowering feeling of jealousy… Of being abandoned.

“Look, I love Mae and she has become very dear to me, but… I was here first.” You felt like a child for saying that, “I know that sounds selfish, but it feels like he just tossed me aside for a better version.” You looked up at Qimir showing him the hurt and betrayal in your eyes before looking away to try and suppress your feelings, “And maybe… Maybe she is better than me… Maybe I should just take my loss and go.” You spoke in a near whisper, your throat tightening at the thought.

“No!” The way he quickly voiced his answer had you looking up at him waiting for him to continue, “You are strong with the force and an extremely skilled assassin.” He shook his head, “You don’t have to leave.”

You sighed and moved past him and the counter, “But what if he wants me to leave Qi? You don’t understand. It’s like he doesn’t even see me or the power I possess. All he ever says to me is that I’m not ready to become his acolyte and that I need to help Mae ascend yet…” You slumped into the cot that he called a bed with a huff, “I’m older than she is! I’ve been with him longer might I add. I’ve never questioned him, I’ve followed him loyally and this is what I am granted with? To be a baby sitter?”

“One useful skill may come out of that job.” He noted and you missed the blush in his face at whatever he was thinking about…

“And what might that be?” You muttered tiredly as you stared up at the ceiling contemplating your life and how you could just be better.

“You would make a good mother?” Qimir shrugged his shoulders as he tried to had the small smirk on his lips.

You launched one of the pillows on the bed the moment those words left his mouth. It was going straight for his head to which he surprisingly dodged with ease, but that didn’t stop the surprised look appear on his face as he raised his hands in surrender.

“Not funny.” You grumbled and crossed your arms, turning to face the wall with a pout.

“Okay okay. I’m sorry.” Qimir said as he walked over to where you were. When you didn’t turn to face him, he decided to take a seat on the edge of the bed beside you. There was a thoughtful look on his face before he spoke again, “Maybe… Maybe he is looking out for you.”

That got your attention. You sat up, your shoulders brushing against his as you peered up at him with confusion, “What do you mean?”

A nervous blush creeped up his face as you leaned closer to him, “Well I mean… I…” He trailed off nervously, “I just mean that maybe you just might be more important to him than you realize. He could be looking after you to take on a more important role.”

“What’s more important than being his acolyte?” You huffed in confusion as you look towards your fiddling hands, “I remember what he said to me all those years ago when we first met. He promised he would make me a powerful force weirder and that I would stand by his side as his acolyte and now… Now I’m starting to question if he really meant it.”

Qimir’s hand found yours and gave it a comforting squeeze, “He meant it and… You are powerful. Just as you are brave and unlawfully kind.” He assured and it was your turn to blush.

It seemed like he always knew what to say to you in ways that made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn, “Qi…” You breathed out as you glanced at his lips.

He was quick to copy your movements leaning in closer to you as he did so, “Maybe he sees too much good in you to turn you into something your not.” He whispered, his breath caressing your skin.

“You seem to know a lot about what he may think.” You whispered, suddenly lost in his darkening gaze, “Why is that?”

“What can I say? I’m good at reading people.” He smirked slightly as he looked down at your lips again, “I’m also extremely possessive over what I care about. Knowing him means knowing you.”

“Okay…” You hummed accepting his answer, “Alright then mister possessive, what am I thinking about right now?” You mused, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.

It was something the Qimir couldn’t get enough of. It was your playfulness towards him that was like a breath of fresh air against the darkness he was met with daily.

“I would say…” His speech was slow as he traced your face with his eyes, “That you really want to kiss me.” He teased lowly. There was a small grin on his face in knowing that he was right.

He was always right.

“Do I now?” You didn’t try to deny it as you leaned in closer to him, “And you? What do you want to do?”

A low noise emanated from his throat, almost like a pleading sound as his lips brushed against yours, “I want to kiss you...” He said in a way that made your heart yearn for him.

“Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me.” You breathed out, your heart racing wildly in excitement.

That was all he needed to hear as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the soft sensation in the way that he kissed you. It was delicate and gentle as if he was afraid to push you too far, but the way your arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to you, was all he needed to know.

He felt like light between your fingertips as you ran your hands through his hair and he was gentle with his movements in guiding you back against the bed. “Beautiful…” He breathed out, fitting himself snugly between your legs.

“Qi…” You breathed his name against his lips, arching your back as he tugged your bottom lips between his teeth. He held himself back, letting go of your lip to really look at you. You couldn’t help but look at him with awe as he gazed at you with so much love and devotion shining in his eyes.

“You are just… Breathtaking.” He admired you with every part of his being, “Utterly breathtaking…” He seemed mesmerized as his right hand traced along your curves.

You blushed, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked away from him embarrassed by his loving words, “Who knew you were such a flatterer.”

He chuckled lowly as he leaned back down to kiss your lips. All too quickly he left and began leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You couldn’t help your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

“You deserve to be flattered.” He continued losing himself in everything that was you. He rocked himself against you as he held back the urge to devour you entirely. He wanted too so desperately now that he knew you were his, body, soul, and mind. He would never let you go, not now… Not until his last dying breath. “You deserve the galaxy, my little flower.” He muttered softly against your skin.

You have much to learn little flower.

You moaned lightly at the pleasure he filled you with almost kissing his last words, but you heard them. Your mind took a moment to register the deeper meaning behind his endearment, but when you did your eyes opened in realization. It was him. Qimir was him. No one knew about that little nickname except for…

“Master?” You whispered running your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, but your heart beat widely in your chest as he stopped kissing you.

“Hm…” He hummed a small smirk gracing his lips as he breathed against your neck, “You finally figured it out.”

You placed your right hand on his cheek and gentle lifted his head to face you, “He’s you?” You said in awe as you pieced together every moment up until now, “You’re him?”

“I am.” He searched your eyes for any fear or resistance, but his shoulders relaxed as he saw none.

“So… That is why you were never around when he— I mean when you were training me? Because you were already there.” Your brows furrowed, “Does Mae know?” A small pang filled your chest at the possibility of her knowing your masters identity before you.

He shook his head, “No.”

The pang quickly left, filling your chest with relief as you let out a small sigh, “So… That’s how you were so sure about how he was feeling because that’s what you truly felt…” A blush filled your cheeks at the kind words he said to you earlier.

However, you realized something else as well. He was the one who kept you from becoming his acolyte. You gasped as you smacked his chest causing him to groan and you would have cared for the old Qimir if you didn’t already know how strong he truly was as your master.

“Why won’t you make me your acolyte?” You huffed slightly embarrassed now that you know you spilled your guts to him, “This entire time I have told you how I felt. I am devoted only to you master so why will you not let me become your acolyte?”

“I thought you would have figured that out by now.” He chuckled shaking his head.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? That is why you train me, it is why you let me stay with you, is it not?”

Strands of his hair fell into his eyes from the way he shook his head. You couldn’t help, but reach up to brush them away, something that had his heart flutter and his lips curl up into a soft smile. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed as he spoke softly, “I don’t want you to become my acolyte anymore because I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you.” His gaze darkened, “I would burn the galaxy before that ever happens.”

You smiled softly and brushed away the creases from his brow, “I know.”

“I want you to be mine.” He nuzzled his nose into your wrist before placing a gentle kiss upon in, “I want you to be my equal… Not as someone who does my bidding, not as my padawan or my acolyte, but someone who stands by me.”

“I want you my little flower because you are everything I wish the world to be.” He finished, a soft look in his eyes.

Love swelled up in your chest at the confession he conveyed so deeply to you. His love sealed your fate to him as you leaned up towards him. You brushed your lips against his, the both of you conveying your strong emotions to one another with the look of your eyes.

“You have my heart Qimir and I will stand by your side, always.” You agreed softly.

It was a promise that the two of you would keep without any doubt. He was yours and you were his until the end of time.

[kotohq]

##. MY HEART'S GOING LUB-DUB

♡ things he has said that flustered you.

♡ contents and warnings: established relationships, mentions of making out (nirei), mentions of marriage (sakura), reader’s ears are pierced in suou’s, mild, mild, possessiveness in suou's but not really 🐧

♡ characters: sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suou hayato (x gn! reader)

Anyone who knows SAKURA HARUKA probably knows that contrary to the delinquent facade he puts up, he is actually quite innocent. A little naive, if you will, blushing at every show of romantic affection. And everyone in Boufuurin knows that’s why he’s become subject to Suou Hayato’s teasing when the brown haired boy needed a good chuckle. And of course, you, as his very lovely partner, had to also jump on the bandwagon of endearingly poking fun at your boyfriend. 

“Y’know, Haruka, you should stop me or else I’m gonna get carried away and keep teasing you even after we get married!” This was a sentence you often say for laughs after you had yet again successfully made Haruka agitated and his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, all the way up to his ears. Granted, the first time he heard it he couldn’t look you in the eye for two whole days at the mention marriage (it’s not that he doesn’t like it, in fact it was because he likes it a little too much that he couldn’t even make eye contact without imagining you in fancy white attire). But now, he barely bats an eye at it now with how often you say it. But today, it’s evident that that particular sentence had poked at someone’s curiosity as you can sense someone staring at you as you banter with your boyfriend. 

“You know, Sakura-kun, I barely see you reacting to... that. You’re really planning to marry them in the future, huh?” Ah, it's Suou again. His soothing voice drips with mischief, the purpose of his question is obviously to tease his heterochromatic eyed peer yet again. Haruka’s features morph into one of confusion, brows furrowed as he turns to face his vice captain. 

“Hah? What are you talking about?” Haruka inquires like suou’s question is the most ridiculous question in the world. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought suou was asking him if he believed pigs could fly, or if the earth was actually a hexagon. 

(Of course, you can’t lie, suou’s question made you nervous despite how lighthearted he said it. Your self consciousness has already prepared itself for a heartbreak trip as you await your boyfriend to continue his response.)

“Why would I date someone I don’t intend on marrying?” 

Ah, now it’s your cheeks that are heating up. 

“Are you done?” The only answer SUOU HAYATO offers to your inquiry is a focused hum. His hand fumbles with the earring, his earring, as he tries to carefully slide the hook into the small hole on your right earlobe. Though, you have to say, you have nothing particular to complain about as you wait for your boyfriend to put the earring on you. After all, you’re getting the privilege of being in the front seat staring at Suou Hayato’s face as he carefully tries to put the earring on you. Lips pursed and eyes squinted a little, he looks extra handsome when he’s focused, you note. 

“Just need to secure them with the back. And... done!” he heaves out a breath as triumph takes over his features, pulling back slightly to admire his (hardly) hard work. His lips stretch into a smile, satisfied at how the red and yellow of his earring highlights your features more. 

“How does it look?” you feel quite nervous as you wait for his reply, shyly peering at him through your eyelashes. Being so close, you have the advantage of watching closely for any twitch of his features that might indicate satisfaction, dissatisfaction, anything that can indicate what kind of reaction he’s going to emit. 

You twitch slightly at the sensation of his pointer finger and middle finger grazing your chin, touch gentle as he settles them there. You swear you see something flashing in his usually gentle ruby eyes. Something akin to satisfaction, or, even, possessiveness. But you don't comment on it. He moves your head from your side to side as if to examine you thoroughly. (he quietly notes how cute you are for compliantly moving your head.) It’s only when you feel the earring faintly brushing against your right shoulder that you become hyper aware of how empty your left ear feels without an earring weighing it down. You also become hyper aware of the fact that the earring’s pair is still dangling from his left ear, eyes instinctively flitting to it. Your cheeks begin to heat up. Oh, it’s almost as if you’re wearing a couple ite-

He interrupts your thought before you can finish it.

“I quite like it, it’s pretty on you,” his voice breaks your train of thought. His smile is quite literally dripping with mischief, and now you can clearly see it. The tint of greed in his eyes is back as he moves his fingers that were formerly resting on your chin to stroke at the earring on your ear. His composed facade would have fooled you if it weren’t for the words he utters next.

“It gives off the feeling that you’re mine.” 

Oh he likes it, alright. Too much, maybe.

“Sorry. D’you need a break?” NIREI AKIHIKO’s voice is devoid of any teasing lilt, instead dripping with concern as he gazes at you through his eyelashes, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed with a pretty tint of pink. 

It’s not the words by themselves. It’s the fact that he’s saying those words in this kind of situation. By this kind of situation, you mean with you perched up on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his thighs as he lay seated on a couch beneath you. He had uttered those exact words after what felt like 10 minutes straight of kissing

(it hadn’t even been 5 minutes, but you could barely think with how clouded your mind is). 

His question was thoroughly leaking with worry, caramel orbs boring through you as he awaits your reply. You wanted to say yes, hell, your lungs were begging you to say yes as they heaved desperately yes. You have to give your boyfriend credit, though. Sweet like always, he had noticed he had gone a little too far when he felt your lips part with breathless whines on his, and had asked if you needed a time out. Though, you don’t think he’s aware of how his voice shakes with want, or how his fingers that are resting on your hips squeezed hard like he was trying to ground himself, or how his eyes are swirling with something akin to need.

(or how he barely sounded apologetic when he apologized, and you suspect it’s because his pride soars with the knowledge that he’s the one making you breathless.)

“No,” you’re surprised at how hoarse your voice sounds, though, that is to be expected after you quite literally just had your breath taken away. Your thumb reaches out to swipe at his quivering bottom lip, gleaming with saliva and a little swollen from pressing against yours repeatedly. He leans into your touch, and you gulp away the feeling of your tugging heartstrings. “Keep kissing me, lover boy.” 

And as he lurches forward to clash your lips together again, the last thought that etches on your mind was that he really should put this on his resume: Nirei Akihiko, 16, not good at fighting (yet), hella good at kissing. 

[itneverendshere]

rafe finding out you’re back to not taking care of yourself, especially when he’s coming back from rehab. you’re going back to full swing less than bare minimum to take care of yourself

thank you for the request!!🩷 hope you enjoy!!

the way you hold me is actually what's holy - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe had this whole plan in his head.

He was finally back in town after spending the better part of six months at that damn rehab center. Finally clean, head clear, body feeling... normal, or at least as normal as it got after kicking all the shit he put himself through. The whole time he was there, he thought about you. How you visited him every week no matter how exhausted you were from your shifts now that you’d been promoted. How you took extra days off work for him, even when you couldn’t afford to miss them. How you always brought him a home-cooked meal because you knew he hated everything they gave him at that place.

And he promised himself that when he came back, things were gonna change. He was gonna change—for you.

It was all worked out. He’d show up at your sister’s place a day before he was supposed to leave, surprise you, maybe bring some flowers. Then he’d ask you to move in with him. He thought about it day and night. He was tired of that house. Of having his dad constantly hovering over his shoulder, even when he was miles away. He was gonna get a new place, not one of those temporary rentals where he barely unpacked his bags. A real place, a clean slate.

A new start. For the both of you.

But when Monica opened the door, his plans went out the window.

“Rafe?” Her eyes widened for a second before her face broke into the widest smile he’d seen in months. And before he could even get a word out, she threw her arms around him, hugging the living hell out of him like it had been years instead of just months. "Oh my God, you’re back! You look... you look amazing."

The way Monica squeezed him, how genuinely happy she was to see him—it hit him harder than he expected. Rehab was tough. Really tough. And he didn’t expect people to be waiting for him on the other side, not like this.

"I’m back," he muttered, hugging her tightly as he let himself breathe for the first time since stepping out of that damn place. Monica had been there for him too, just like you had. She’d kept you company sometimes when you went on those long drives to visit him. He didn’t deserve people like you two in his life, but he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

Monica pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders, her eyes sparkling with this genuine pride. "You look healthy. I mean, really healthy. It’s good to see you like this."

Rafe smiled, a little bashful. "Yeah. Feels good to be back. I’ve been, you know, working on shit."

She smiled back, her eyes glinting with emotion. "I’m so proud of you, Rafe."

His throat tightened at that. He wasn’t used to hearing those words, you were the only one constantly reminding him of it. Everyone else said it with some hidden judgment or expectation behind them, like they were waiting for him to screw up again. But Monica meant it. She always did. She was your sister, after all.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling more awkward than he should’ve, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m trying, you know?”

She squeezed his shoulder before stepping back, "You here to see her?"

"Yeah. I, uh... wanted to surprise her.”

The smile on Monica’s face dropped just a little, and Rafe’s stomach sank instantly. He knew that look. It was the same one you got when you didn’t want to tell him something that might hurt him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, even though he already had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Monica sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before she leaned back against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "She’s at work right now."

“At this hour? I thought she—”

“She’s been working extra shifts. A lot of them.”

Rafe frowned. You already worked so much as it was. Extra shifts? Why? He thought things had been better for you since he left, that you had more time to focus on yourself, maybe even catch up on the sleep you’d missed while dealing with his mess. “Why? She didn’t tell me she was working more.”

Monica sighed again—something that made Rafe know he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear, “She didn’t want you to worry. She didn’t want anyone to worry, actually.”

“Monica, what’s going on?” The anxiety clawed at his chest. He hated not knowing. Hated being in the dark, especially when it came to you.

Her eyes softened, and she took a step closer, like she could feel the panic building inside him. “Listen... she’s not taking care of herself. She’s been putting everyone first—Milo, her job, you—but she’s not eating enough, she’s not sleeping enough. She’s been burning herself out.”

Rafe’s heart sank. You hadn’t said a word about it to him. Not during any of his calls or visits. You were always smiling, always saying things were fine. But they weren’t.

He should’ve known. Should’ve seen the signs.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell anyone. That’s the thing. You know she doesn’t ask for help. She just... takes it all on, even when it’s too much. And with you gone... I think she felt like she had to be strong for you, like she couldn’t let herself fall apart because you were going through so much.”

You had been falling apart, and he didn’t even see it. He’d been so focused on getting himself together that he didn’t notice you slipping. And now he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I should’ve done something.”

“No.” Her voice was firm, and she reached out to touch his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “This isn’t on you. You were getting better, doing what you had to do. She loves you, okay? She wasn’t going to let you worry about her while you were in rehab. She’s always been like this. Always putting herself last. It’s not about you. It’s about her not knowing how to let people take care of her.”

Rafe’s chest tightened, his mind flashing through all the times you’d pushed aside your own needs in the past, all the times you’d taken care of him instead of yourself. He thought that was never going to happen again. He’d been so blind to it, thinking you were the strong one. But you were just as fragile as he was, maybe more, because you didn’t let anyone see it.

"She’s working until midnight tonight. You should go talk to her. But... don’t be mad, okay? She’s doing the best she can."

Rafe nodded, his throat tight. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t angry at you. He was angry at himself for not seeing it sooner. For letting you drown under the weight of everything while he was too busy figuring out his own shit. “I’ll go see her.”

Your sister gave him a small smile, a little sad but understanding. “She needs you. Just... be there for her, okay? And don’t guilt-trip her about this. She already feels like she’s failing everyone.”

“I won’t,” he promised, even though the guilt was eating him alive inside. He had to be strong for you now, the way you’d been strong for him all this time. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix this.

With that, he left, heading to his truck, his mind spinning the whole way to The Country Club. He didn’t know how he was going to make this right, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you keep doing this. He wasn’t going to let you fall apart, not when he was here now, ready to carry some of the weight for you.

The country club was quieter than usual when he pulled into the parking lot, but the bar inside was still buzzing with its usual evening crowd. He walked in, scanning the room, his eyes instantly finding you behind the bar.

You were moving like a pro, handing off drinks, shaking up cocktails, giving out that charming smile you always had for the customers. But now that he knew what was going on, it was easy to see how tired you looked. The dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped just a little between orders. You were running on empty, and it broke his heart.

Before he could even think of what he was going to say to you, your eyes found his across the room. For a second, everything seemed to stop. Your eyes widened in surprise, and your breath hitched, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there. He felt his heart skip a beat, and then—

“Rafe?” you breathed out, your voice soft and disbelieving. Without another thought, you bolted from behind the bar, not even bothering to tell anyone to cover your shift.

He barely had time to react before you practically jumped into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms circled his neck. You clung to him like a koala bear, and Rafe caught you, holding you tight against him, his heart racing as he buried his face in your neck.

“Holy shit, you’re really here,” you mumbled into his neck, your voice strained with emotion. You clutched him tighter, like if you let go, he’d disappear. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” He explained, his voice muffled against your skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, even with all the heavy stuff on his mind. Just having you in his arms again felt like a weight lifting off his chest.

You leaned back just enough to look at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears as you cupped his face in your hands. “God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too baby.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his hands gripping your waist. “I’m back, okay? I’m here.”

A small laugh bubbled out of you, even though there were tears running down your cheeks now. “I can’t believe I’m crying at work. I never cry at work.”

Rafe grinned, brushing your tears away with his thumb. “I’ll let it slide this time.”

You laughed again, but then you seemed to remember where you were. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, where a few customers were still waiting for their drinks. “Shit, I— I’m working."

He set you down gently, his hands still resting on your waist as you adjusted your shirt and ran a hand through your hair, clearly flustered but trying to get back into work mode. “I should get back to it.”

“Take a break,” He pleaded, his hand moving to grab yours. “Please.”

You blinked up at him, the tiredness you’d been hiding for months finally showing through. For once, you didn’t argue. You just nodded, squeezing his hand before leading him to quieter corner of the bar where you could talk without interruption. Once you sat down across from him, you took a deep breath, like you already knew something was coming.

“What did Monica say?”

Rafe paused, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on the table as he tried to figure out how to start. “She told me you’ve been overworking yourself. Taking extra shifts, not sleeping, not eating enough.”

You sighed heavily, leaning back in your seat and rubbing a hand over your face. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Rafe asked. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but he needed to understand. “You’ve been doing all this, and you didn’t say a word to me.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers twisting together in your lap. “You were in rehab, baby. You were going through so much, and I didn’t want to add to your stress. I didn’t want you to feel guilty about me.”

“You don’t have to carry everything on your own,” Rafe said softly, his chest tightening. “I know I was a mess before, but I’m better now. I want to be there for you the way you were there for me. The way we used to be before.”

You shook your head, “I just... I didn’t know how to stop. You needed me, Monica needed me... work needed me. And I thought, if I just kept going, I could handle it.”

He reached across the table, grabbing your hands and holding them tight. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time you didn’t try to hide them. You let them fall, your grip tightening on his hands like you were afraid to let go. “I don’t know how to let go again.”

“Let me help,” Rafe whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve always been there for me, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. You don’t have to keep doing this by yourself.”

You nodded slowly, wiping at your tears with a shaky hand. “I just... I didn’t want to be a burden.”

The conversation gave him a sense of Deja Vu. You two had been here before.

“You’re not a burden,” Rafe said firmly, “You’ve never been a burden. You’re everything to me. And I don’t want you burning yourself out like this. Not for me, not for anyone.”

You took a deep, shaky breath, your eyes meeting his again. “I just missed you so much. And I didn’t know how to handle everything without you.”

Rafe’s heart clenched at the honesty in your voice, and he reached out, pulling you into his arms again. “I’m here now. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You don’t have to keep doing this alone.”

You clung to him, your face buried in his chest as you finally let yourself relax in his arms. And he held you determined to make things right. He was going to be there for you, the way you had always been there for him.

It felt so good to be in his arms, to finally let yourself feel vulnerable after holding everything together for so long. You closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. You could see how much he cared, and it made you feel safe, but also exposed, it’s like you’d momentarily forgotten how good it felt to be so close to him.

As if reading your mind, he brushed a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, “I don’t want to see you like this anymore,” he said quietly. “You deserve more.” You opened your mouth to retort, but the words stuck in your throat as he continued, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future while I was gone, and I know things have been tough for both of us, but I want to make them better. I want to be better. I want you to be better.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart pounding as you searched his eyes for answers.

He took a deep breath, his expression serious but tender. “I want you to move in with me.”

All you could do was blink in surprise.

“Rafe...” Move in? After everything? After months of barely surviving and keeping your head above water, now he was asking you to dive into something that felt... big. Scary even. You blinked again, and the look on his face was so serious, like he’d thought about this a hundred times over. Maybe he had. But you hadn’t. You’d been too wrapped up in keeping things from crashing to even imagine a future like that, let alone moving in with him. “Are you serious?” 

Rafe’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, “Yeah. I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to be apart anymore. I don’t want you running yourself into the ground, and I sure as hell don’t want you dealing with everything alone. I’m here now. I want us to have a fresh start, together.”

Your heart clenched. This was the Rafe you’d always believed in, the one you saw past all the shit he went through. And it was everything you wanted—more than you’d let yourself hope for. But then the doubt crept in. What if it was too much, too soon? What if things went wrong?

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the way your fingers tangled together, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t even know if I’m ready. I mean, everything’s been so... I don’t know, chaotic lately. I can barely keep my own life together.”

He let out a soft sigh, leaning closer. “I get that. I do. But that’s why I’m asking. We don’t have to do it all at once. We can take it slow. I just... I don’t want you to feel like you’re in this alone anymore. I need you with me, and I think you need me too.”

You did need him.

You’d missed him so much it ached, but you were terrified of leaning on him again, of letting yourself fall into something that might not last. But then again, wasn’t that what love was about? Taking chances, even when everything felt uncertain?

You swallowed hard, lifting your eyes to meet his. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But we take it slow, alright? I don’t want to mess this up.”

Rafe smiled, that slow, crooked grin that always made you fall deeper in love. “Slow is good. As long as we’re doing it together.” He tilted his head, watching you closely. He always seemed to know when you were lost in thought. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice was soft, patient, like he wasn’t in a rush for an answer.

You gave a half-smile, shaking your head slightly. “I just... it’s a lot, you know? If I start freaking out, you have to promise not to take it personally.”

He chuckled, the sound so familiar it almost made you cry all over again, “Deal. And if I start freaking out, you’ve gotta do the same.”

You smiled, finally feeling the tightness in your chest ease. Maybe this could work. Maybe the two of you could find your way back to each other. You believed him wholeheartedly. It wasn’t just the words; it was the way he looked at you, like he wasn’t just making promises he couldn’t keep anymore. He was standing in front of you, offering something real, something he was willing to put in the work for.

Rafe’s gaze softened, his lips quirking into a small smile as he cupped your cheek. "I know we say this all the time, but I love you," he said, like it was second nature, like he was reminding you of something you both already knew, something solid and familiar. There wasn’t any grand declaration because it didn’t need to be—it was the quiet kind of love that had been there all along.

You leaned into his touch. “I love you too.” The words came so easily, as natural as breathing, because they were always there, hanging between the two of you, even on the worst days.

His thumb stroked your skin his eyes never leaving yours. "We’ll figure it out," he whispered like he wasn’t just saying it for you, but for himself too. "We always do."

You nodded, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small, tired smile. “Yeah, we do.”

[eddiegettingshot]

your prompt for today: pink🩷

When their night out winds down, and they land on Eddie’s doorstep, Buck’s gut begins to prickle with sudden nerves, or maybe anticipation. He really can’t tell the difference. Strange, because he thought he’d been handling being on a first date with his best friend pretty well. After all, it’s a song and dance that’s usually about making a good first impression, and not only did that ship sail years ago, but Buck didn’t even get it right. So dinner just felt like dinner, except for the fact that Eddie kept their feet tucked together beneath the table the whole time.

Granted, there were a few days where Buck kept forgetting anything had changed between them if they weren’t physically together, if Eddie didn’t have a hand on him, like he’d lost all sense of object permanence where Eddie was concerned. What’s startling is that in most ways, nothing has. 

Like this: Eddie turns to him now as he unlocks his front door, brow arched. 

“What, you got somewhere else to be?” he asks.

Buck doesn’t bother asking what Eddie had seen in him, that he’d decided he needed to stake an explicit claim on the rest of Buck’s night (and, with luck, the morning?). It’s not like he’s in the habit of playing things close to the vest, but half the time he doesn’t even need to say a word—not to Eddie. He’d been peeled open long before he knew he had anything to confess.

Easy to imagine: himself, held in the tender cradle of Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s thumbs feeling down his center to find the tenderest spot, pushing deep all at once, prying him apart—through the rind of him, his ribcage, so all his insides, overripe with adoration, come spilling out into Eddie’s palms. That’s how it feels. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

“No,” he says, shuffling closer. He’d been hanging back, playing with his car keys in his pocket.  “No, I—I’m coming in.”

“Good.” 

Eddie sounds so openly pleased. Warmth spills through Buck’s spine. He hadn’t considered that he wasn’t alone in this—bracing against some new humming energy, staring too closely at the back of Eddie’s neck—but he watches Eddie’s shoulders soften, right before he lets Buck inside.

Then, once Buck’s on the couch, thinking really intently about how they’re going to occupy it together (it’s been a busy week; they haven’t even seen enough of each other for Buck to have adapted to their new rules of engagement. Can he crawl into Eddie’s lap?), Eddie pauses, says, “Uh, hold on,” and bustles off to the kitchen. 

He returns with a lighter for the candle sitting on the coffee table, which is—new. Buck hadn’t noticed until now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie light a candle in all the years he’s spent in this house, and now his lip is trapped between his teeth as he does it, avoiding Buck’s eyes all the while.

It hits Buck hard and fast: Eddie is really, really nervous. And trying to be romantic, for Buck. And if he crawled into Eddie’s lap, probably Eddie would laugh, and let him; he’s allowed. And maybe nothing feels different but it’s all changed. That’s what Buck wants, for once. That’s what Eddie wants, judging by his wide dark eyes, flushed cheeks, the flickering candlelight. Sometimes Buck’s slow on the uptake. This time, he might have just been scared. 

“You look nice,” Buck says. 

Kind of bad timing—Eddie’s just in his socks; he’d shed his jacket and the fancy watch Buck’s only seen him break out a couple times; he’d undone the first couple of buttons on his shirt; he must have run his hands through his hair when he was out of sight, since it’s falling halfway down his forehead. Buck should have said something when he picked Eddie up—he’d thought it, then, but he had been so comfortable with Eddie in his passenger seat, he didn’t want to risk making things weird.

Eddie’s laugh is just a soft puff of air. He relaxes. “Thanks,” he says, coming around to sink down beside Buck, turning a knee out so they’re touching, as if by reflex. 

“I like that color on you,” Buck continues. “Always have.”

“Hm,” Eddie says, smiling. He’s in rose pink. He’s also leaning closer, lifting a hand and brushing his fingertips down Buck’s brow, his cheek. His eyes flicker, and suddenly they’re trained on Buck’s mouth. Buck’s stomach swoops boyishly. “It’s a good color.”

Holy shit, Buck thinks, head full of jasmine and honey and smoke and the cologne Eddie’s wearing, something unfamiliar with an exotic spiced note. They kissed before—they’ve been kissing all week—except this time Buck starts whimpering before their lips meet, and Eddie swallows whatever strangled noise he makes with a grin. Buck lurches in, fisting urgent hands into the front of Eddie’s shirt. 

“Eddie,” he pants after a while. It’s hard-won, because Eddie is demanding, and he bites. “Eddie, are you sure?” 

Now that they’ve done it, like, really crossed the line, gotten a taste—he’s gotta know if this is what Eddie was looking for, when he told Buck he loved him. Not just the sex, which they’re definitely about to have—all of it. Buck shoves his knuckles against Eddie’s chest to feel his heart gallop, hard but steady like it grew Thoroughbred legs. 

Eddie’s cupping his face in both hands while they kiss. He pulls away, not far, and surveys Buck the way he would a patient: like he’s trying to puzzle out what’s going on beneath Buck’s skin, in all the places he can’t quite reach.

“Buck,” he says, gently. “Of course.” 

He pushes his thumb between Buck’s teeth. Satisfied, Buck drags him back in.

[lulunothulu]

“Not a Reader”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake finds one of your romance books and decides to read it. He thinks it would be funny to quote it to you.

Content: Just fluff 😂

Everyone thank @fanficmom94 for this idea (Most of these book quotes are fake btw lol)

Jake wasn’t being nosy. No, he was…being resourceful.

A few days ago, Jake caught you reading one of your romance books in the living room when you thought he was still at work for the day. He knew you loved to read, but he never guessed you’d read romance.

Specifically, smutty romances.

No, when Jake saw you turn beet red at the sight of him walking into the living room and the way you closed your book…it told him all he needed to know.

So now, he was on a mission to find said book and read it before you got home from work.

Why would he do that on his one day off? Because 1. He wanted to know why you turned so red. And 2. He loved seeing you flustered. The fact that after reading something it made you get up from the couch and straddle him, also helped motivate him to look for the book.

If he could laid and see you get flustered, he’d be golden.

Where could you have left a dirty book?

He smiles to himself when he remembers the bookshelf he bought you a while ago came with a square box container. He knew it in his bones that it was in there.

He grabs the box, the wool fabric scratching against his calloused hands. He peaks inside and smiles to himself.

I knew it.

Pulling your book out, he turns to the first chapter and gasps. The first scene opens with the main character in the middle of receiving oral.

Jake’s immediate reaction is to close it because what the fuck? He opens it again, going back and reading the chapter before continuing on to the next.

Before the knows it, he’s three books into your collection when he hears the garage door opening. He almost tears a page while he’s scrambles to put the book (and box) back where he found them.

“Jake!” You call.

“I’m coming!” He responds.

Jake looks in one of the mirrors in the hall and almost laughs—his cheeks are bright red.

By the time he gets downstairs, he hopes his cheeks are back to normal but seeing as your brows lift, they didn’t.

“Are you okay?” You ask, a smile creeping on your lips.

“Mhmm,” he smiles. He kisses you before pulling you into him by the hips. “I missed you today.”

“Did you?” You ask. “On the one day you have off?”

“Yes,” he gruffs. “I especially missed the way ‘you look kneeling before me’.”

“What else did you miss?” you ask, not catching on to what he’s implying.

“I missed the way your lips ‘caress the nap of my neck’ and how you ‘call me your mate’.”

You pull away from him, eyes narrowing. “Where did you hear about mates?”

“Oh, I’m not even done.” He chuckles, pulling you into him again. “I especially missed the way you ‘pray to the heavens to let you come from my fingers’.”

“Jake! You read my book???” You cry out, embarrassment rushing to your face in a deep blush.

Jake only laughs, pulling you closer.

“No, get the fuck off me!” You laugh.

“Or what? You’ll ‘grant me pure and total damnation’?”

When you swat at him, he chuckles. “By the gods, Y/N! You can’t keep me away from your ‘ethereal loins’.”

“Now why did you read that book?” You ask, giggling at how weird it sounds coming out of Jake’s Texan drawling mouth.

“I read three of the books in your ‘forbidden box’ and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Well, Mr.Nosy Butt,” you start. “Did you get to finish the scene where Cori and the dragon man have sex in the air while he’s a dragon?”

“Honestly I tried to block that out,” he admits.

“How about the scene where Solari and Camden have sex in the bathroom with all the steam?”

He pretends to think. “Actually, you might have to demonstrate how they’d do that.”

You hum, grinding into his hips before kissing him. “Well I guess we have our work cut out for us tonight.”

Before you can ask, you’re over Jake’s shoulder and he’s practically running up the stairs to y’all’s bathroom, excited yelps falling from your lips.

Good googly moogly, I’d love to try those scenes with Jake 😏

[yoomiwrites]

We won⁴

Summary: The war is won, yet you lost too much. Between friendship and love, what will you—what will Ekko—pick?

Note: Don't worry, although part 4 still got this kind of vibe, I promise (do I?) that the next chapter will get more of a soft vibe. As a reader it probably sucks to get short chapters, but for me it's nice for the flow (hah), so please be patient as you'll get the next chapter tomorrow and the (probably) final one at friday!

Ekko spotted you from a distance, your figure unmistakable as you walked alongside someone he didn’t recognize. The two of you were laughing, the kind of light, carefree laughter he hadn’t heard from you in a long time. You looked happy, your arm brushing against the guy’s as he leaned closer to speak.

Ekko froze, his heart sinking. This was the person Vi had mentioned. This was your date.

His first instinct was to turn away. He felt like an intruder, his chest tightening with emotions he couldn’t name—jealousy? Regret? Guilt? The image of you with someone else twisted something deep inside him.

He watched as you smiled, a smile he’d seen a thousand times before but that now seemed distant. A smile meant for someone else.

For a long time, Ekko had told himself that his heart was elsewhere. He thought of Powder often, of the fleeting connection he’d felt with her in that alternate dimension. That kiss, those memories—they’d kept him tethered to the past. But now, standing here, watching you laugh and move on, something inside him shifted.

This wasn’t about Powder.

This was about you.

Here. Now.

You had been the one by his side. The one who had fought for him, cared for him, even when he couldn’t see it. And he had taken you for granted, too wrapped up in his own world to realize what you meant to him.

And now it might be too late.

He clenched his fists, torn between running to you and leaving before you saw him. How could he ruin this for you? After everything you’d been through, everything you’d done for him, you deserved to be happy. And if this person made you happy, how could he stand in the way?

But it hurt. It hurt more than he thought it would, realizing what he wanted only now that he might have lost it.

As you and your date disappeared around a corner, Ekko stayed rooted to the spot, a weight settling over him. He didn’t know how he could face you now, not without his feelings spilling over. But one thing was clear: he couldn’t keep pretending that you didn’t matter to him.

You weren’t just a friend. You were everything. And it was time he started acting like it—even if it meant letting you go.

[floweringlee]

Come to my Office Max Verstappen X Reader

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: Fingering, oral (m&f receiving), biting, shaming, degrading, probably a lot more that I forgot to name.

Word Count: 4.4k 

Notes: This is my first time writing smut like this and it took me a bit of courage to even post this so enjoy

Max Verstappen always had his eye on you. How could he not? You were one of the most precious jewels he had ever laid eyes on. He wouldn’t admit that out loud, of course. Not to anyone else besides himself anyway. Granted, he never had to admit it because everyone already knew. To him, you were his precious little wallflower that no one else could touch, blissfully unaware that he’d been watching you. Stalking you like prey. The last person who even thought about looking in your direction hadn’t shown up to work the next day. They claimed Red Bull wasn’t the right fit for them anymore.

You hummed softly as you wrote down the next meeting details in your notebook, its cover adorned with stickers, a chaotic mix of stars, planets, and little motivational quotes. Your boss was going on about Max’s next performances in the upcoming races, but you barely heard the words. Your mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was drawn to the man sitting across the room, just a few desks away.

Max’s voice, smooth and controlled as ever, had a way of drawing you in. He was speaking to someone, probably another colleague but you couldn’t help the way your gaze drifted toward him. He was wearing his usual aloof expression, the one that seemed like it could slice through steel, but you knew better. Beneath it all, he had a quiet intensity, one that he only ever showed to those who had earned his trust. And somehow, over the past year, you had earned it.

You had always been diligent when it came to watching him. It was hard not to think Max had an aura about him, a magnetic pull that drew attention without even trying. But what kept you captivated wasn’t just his undeniable charm or his talents on the track. It was the way he treated you. So kind, so considerate. The little things like when he brought you lunch, or those unexpected gifts. He would never say much, but the actions spoke volumes.

Today was no different. As you glanced up from your papers, your eyes met his, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. It was gone almost as quickly as it came, replaced by the confident exterior he wore like a second skin. But that brief second… it lingered with you.

A soft chuckle from across the room broke your reverie. You blinked, startled, and turned back to your notes. Had he just laughed? Or had you imagined it? You quickly jotted down the next point your boss had mentioned, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Max’s attention was still on you. A warmth spread through your chest, making your heart race just a little faster.

Your boss rambled on, but you were barely listening anymore. Instead, you were aware of the small shifts in the room, the subtle way Max moved, the way his eyes sometimes darted in your direction when he thought no one was looking. It was all so deliberate, so calculated. And yet, it felt so effortless. How could you not notice him?

He knew exactly how to make his presence felt without saying a word. The way he stood with an air of confidence, but never too imposing. The way he’d lean in when speaking to you, always making sure he was just a little closer than necessary. You weren’t blind; you had noticed the way his gaze lingered when you’d speak, the soft smile that would tug at the corner of his lips when you made a joke or said something witty. He’d always play it off as nothing, but you saw the truth in it. Max Verstappen was interested in you.

After the meeting ended, you found yourself packing up your things with more urgency than necessary. You didn’t want to leave, not really. But you had a feeling something might happen if you stuck around too long. You gathered your notes and slipped them into your bag, all the while trying to ignore the heat radiating from your face. There was no reason to be so flustered. It was just Max, after all.

Except… it wasn’t just Max. It was Max, and his unspoken attention, and the way he made you feel like the only person in the room, even when you weren’t the one he was talking to. It was the soft pressure of his gaze, the way his hands seemed to brush against yours just a little too often when handing you something, the way his smile seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words.

“Heading out?” The sound of his voice made you jump, your heart stuttering for a moment. You looked up to find him standing right next to your desk, his expression unreadable, but the flicker of something in his eyes made your stomach flip.

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered, feeling your palms start to sweat. “Just… finishing up some notes.”

Max raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. “You know,” he said, leaning casually against the edge of your desk, “you’ve been working really hard lately. Maybe you could use a little break.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. He wasn’t making a suggestion; he was making an offer. Something unspoken passed between the two of you, a kind of tension that seemed to thicken the air.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Max’s smirk deepened, and before you could react, he pulled a small bag from his pocket and placed it on your desk. “A little treat,” he said, his voice low and almost teasing. “Thought you could use it after a long day.”

You stared at the bag in disbelief for a moment before opening it carefully. Inside, you found a small selection of your favorite chocolates, the ones you’d mentioned in passing months ago during a lunch break.

“I… Max, you didn’t have to,” you whispered, touched by the gesture.

He shrugged, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “I wanted to. And besides,” he added, his voice dropping for just the two of you two hear, “You can always make it up to me after this meeting.” His breath fanned across your ear, and the look he gave you told you more than enough about what he meant. 

A thousand thoughts rushed through your mind in that instant, but none of them made it past the lump in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could manage was a small nod, fearing that if you moved your legs would give out underneath you. Max gave you a knowing smile, his eyes flickering with something that made your chest tighten. He slipped a small paper into your purse before giving you one last look. 

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. Something had shifted between the two of you, something subtle but undeniable. And as you watched him walk away, your thoughts began to swirl, the questions you had about Max Verstappen suddenly seeming a lot more complicated than they had before.

But for now, you could only watch him go, knowing that whatever happened next, you were no longer the only one who had been keeping a secret.

Slowly reaching into your bag, took the cool white paper into your fingers. Your hands shook with just a bit of anticipation as you unfolded it, staring at the letters that stuck on your mind for the next hour. 

“Come to my office after the last meeting of the day.”

When everyone had cleared out of the office and your nerves had begun to get the best of you. There was a churning feeling in your stomach that had been bubbling up as you anxiously made your way to Maxs office. When you’d actually reached the door your feet seemed to stop in place, stopping you in time. 

“Are you going to just keep standing outside of my door keeping me waiting?” 

You jolted from your spot, shakily reaching for the doorhandle, pulling it open. Max was there, in a casual button up, his tie loosely hanging around his neck.  A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks as you fumbled to close the door behind you. The moment he locked eyes with you, a wave of something hot and unsettling washed over you. His gaze lingered, unhurried, as if he was cataloging every detail of your reaction. There was a silence between you, thick and heavy, filled with so many unspoken words.

"You took your time," Max said, his voice low, his lips curling into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was an edge to his tone, something teasing but with a subtle undertone of command.

“I—” you stammered, then cleared your throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

Max cut you off before you could finish, his gaze flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. "No need to apologize," he said, his voice almost too smooth. “You’ve been busy today, haven’t you?”

You nodded, following his broad body as he walked toward you then, his movements deliberate, almost predatory. Every step he took seemed to draw you in, until he was standing mere inches away. The space between you felt impossibly small, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your nerves, but his presence was overwhelming in the best way.

Max tilted his head slightly, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyes never left yours except when it was to flickering to look at your face.

"Do you know why I asked you to come here?" His voice was softer now, a whisper of curiosity underlined with something else, something dangerous that made your heart race.

You shook your head, unable to trust your voice. It was as if the words were trapped inside your chest, stuck behind a wall of uncertainty. Was he teasing you? Or was there something more to his request?

Max’s smile widened slightly, sensing your unease. "You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words. "What do you mean?"

He took another step closer, and you could feel the air around you growing heavier, charged with something electric. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his voice low, almost like a confession. “You’re always polite, always professional. But there’s a distance between us. Like you’re… keeping something from me.”

Your throat went dry. Was he referring to the way you always made sure to keep things strictly professional with him? To the way you tried to mask the strange feelings he stirred in you? To the fact that you had spent months trying to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you, pretending it didn’t exist?

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words failed you. Max watched you closely, his eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and something more primal.

He stepped closer again, his proximity now impossible to ignore. You could feel the heat from his body seeping into your skin. His hand reached out, almost casually, brushing against yours. The simple touch sent a shock through your system, your pulse quickening in response.

“Don’t be nervous,” he murmured, his voice now hushed, intimate. "I’m not going to bite."

But the way he said it the glint in his eyes, the subtle weight behind his words told you that maybe he would, in a way that you couldn't quite predict. A delicious chill ran down your spine, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, mesmerized. His next words seemed to buzz right to your cunt. 

“Unless….you want me to?”

A small whimper sounded in your throat that didn't go unnoticed by the older man. His hands trailed up your sides that made you squirm in your spot, not daring to look away fearing that if you did he’d disappear in the moment. 

“Sit down, Schat”

You blinked, heart racing as your body obeyed his command before your mind could catch up. Every nerve in your body screamed for you to turn and walk away, but something inside you, the same part that had always been drawn to him, even from the first moment you'd met compelled you to stay, setting a fiery feeling throughout your body. 

He smirked when he saw the look on your face, it was one of innocence and surprise. You weren't a virgin by any means, but no other man had ever taken the time to care about you. Not like this.

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as you watched him, waiting for him to tell you what to do. He had moved and was sitting with his legs spread leaning against his office chair, his hand running along his clothed thigh. Your eyes followed his hands movements and he chuckled darkly at how obvious your interest was.

"You're going to take off your clothes for me" He hummed, a smile forming on his face.

At first, it shocked you l, but you knew were this was going the moment you’d read that note. Part of you wanted to maintain your professionalism while the other fought desperately to crawl out of the cage you locked her in. And right now— she was winning. Your hands were shaking as you tried to pull your shirt over your head. You fumbled with the fabric for a few seconds before you were able to slip it off, tossing it onto the floor.

Max's eyes were burning into yours as you removed the rest of your clothing, leaving you standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. You could feel his gaze lingering on every inch of exposed skin and goosebumps rose along your body.

His eyes were dark as they raked over you, drinking in the sight before him. He was completely still, other than the twitch of his fingers, the only thing giving away his impatience.

"Come here." His voice was commanding, deep, sending a shiver up your spine.

For a second we were unable to move, frozen in place, but you quickly scampered towards him, the cold making your nipples perk up against the now burning feeling that was spreading throughout your body. 

"Take off your underwear."

Your breath hitched as you obeyed. It wasn't until the fabric slid down your legs and onto the floor that you realized he was staring directly between your legs, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. You felt a harsh blush spread across your cheeks. If he wanted to stare at you so bad he should have just said so to begin with. Still the entire situation had left you drenched, feeling a bit of your slick rub against your inner thighs. 

"Turn around."

Again, your body moved without thought, spinning so you were facing away from him.

"Bend over."

Your pulse spiked. You bent forward, feeling his hands caress the backs of your thighs, moving up to squeeze the globes of your ass. You moaned quietly as he spread you apart, exposing your most intimate area.

"Look at you, already so wet for me. Are you aching, bloem? Is it throbbing?" He asked, his voice low and husky, almost a growl. There was something primal with the way he was speaking to you. His breath fanning across your back makes you shiver in the process. 

"Y-yes." You breathed quietly, just enough for him to be able to hear. 

"Good girl."

He leaned in, pressing his lips to your core, dragging his tongue up the length of you.

"Mmm," He moaned, "You taste even better than I imagined…."

He pushed two fingers into you, curling them just right to hit your g-spot, drawing out a cry from your lips. You could feel his smirk against your flesh as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

"So tight." He murmured.

Your legs began to tremble as he increased the speed of his ministrations, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. The sound that filled the room was far from innocent as your moans ripped through the thick sex filled air. 

"That's it," He whispered, "You sound so pretty for me."

The stubble of his mustache scraped against your cunt electing a whine from you. Max's fingers twisted and turned in your gummy walls paired with his skilled tongue was doing wonders for you as you helplessly grinded against his face to be best if your ability from your compromising position. You could feel him chuckle against your clit before you felt a sharp pinch in the bundle of nerves. You squeaked in surprise from both pain and pleasure before your walls clenched around him and you let out a scream, your arms finally giving out on the table,  breathing hard. You were still recovering from the aftershocks of your orgasm that Max had been slurping up easing with small kitten licked when you felt a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you up.

"Get on your knees" his eyes were hazed as he spoke. Your eyes widened as you were guided off the table, slowly kneeling in front of him. 

"Open." His voice was final and you opened your mouth and he pushed his fingers into you, making sure that you got a good taste of yourself. Slowly you swirl your tongue around each of his digits making sure to clean them off, maintaining eye contact with the Dutchman the entire time making him groan as he watched you.  

His length strained against his slacks taking up more than enough space in their confined environment. You looked up at him with innocent, pleading eyes, and he raised an eyebrow at you expectantly. Just as eagerly you reached up to undo his belt tugging both his pants and boxers down in one go. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. His cock was long and thick, and already hard. Precum was beading at the tip, begging for your attention. You but your lip, wondering if maybe you’d bit off more than you could chew. 

His movements were swift with how he grabbed your face, giving you no time to think since his fingers pressed in the back of your jaw, making it slack open. 

“Now be a good girl and suck.”

You took him into your hand, wrapping your fingers around him and stroked his shaft slowly, twisting your wrist slightly as you did. He let out a low moan, closing his eyes and leaning back, giving you full access to him.

You leaned in, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting the salty liquid, before taking him into your mouth. His hands immediately tangled themselves in your hair, tugging on the strands as you bobbed your head, sucking him eagerly.

"That's it, fuck yeah….such a pretty little mouth for me.."

You hollowed out your cheeks, increasing the suction around his shaft, drawing more moans from his lips. You quite enjoyed the look on his face as his eyebrows scrunches together as he tried to keep his cool. You flicked your tongue on the underside of his length, occasionally pressing him to the back of your throat teasingly. You could tell he was getting close, his hips starting to thrust upwards, fucking into your mouth. 

You let out a surprised muffle when the makeshift ponytail he had made with your hair was pressed down rather harshly, making you gag in his length. 

"Fucking hell." He hissed, tightening his grip on your hair.

You relaxed your jaw and took him deeper, swallowing him completely, earning a growl from his throat. You could feel him swell in your mouth and his hips stuttered as his orgasm hit.

“Fucking swallow it all, baby. Swallow my cum." He panted.

You swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him. Making sure to lick up anything you might have missed for good measure. His cock still twitched eagerly and as Max was still catching his breath when he spoke again.

"On the couch, lie on your back"

You quickly climbed onto the sofa, lying down. He leaned over you, brushing his lips against yours, making your breath hitch. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you as your lips locked in a sloppy kiss that was more teeth than kiss but it didn’t matter. 

“Should mark you.” He was muttering under his breath. “Make sure they know what’s mine.”

As if on queue you felt a sharp pain on the side of your neck that quickly melted to pleasure causing you to moan. 

"Would you like that, Schat?"

On a normal basis if you had been thinking you would have said no, but the look he was giving you and you said otherwise. The thought of everyone staring at you with marks littered by Max makes your pussy gape around nothing, waiting to be filled. 

“Please Max?” You whimpered, bucking your hips up lightly in response which made him chuckle. “You’re so naughty for someone so innocent.” With that, he’d made his journey to leave bites and hickeys across your body, leaving no part untouched. 

His mouth had started on your neck, biting and licking afterwards as if to sooth it before moving onto his next spot to ruin. Max teeth dug into your skin in a way that seemed like they were supposed to fit. His hands cupped your breast giving them a tough squeeze, a moan leaving your mouth. 

“Fuck you’re gorgeous..” he breathed, staring down at you before taking a nipple in his mouth sucking harsh l his tongue twirling circles around the bud before releasing it with a pop that made you shudder.  If you’d started to notice anything it was how Max certainly wasn’t going easy on you. Almost a second later your point was proven when you felt a pinch to your tit, making you squeal. His eyes looked up at you as if to say ‘sorry’ but it certainly didn’t stop him from repeating the treatment to you other mound of flesh. 

Your thighs rubbed together in impatience, your own slick spreading more and more. When the kisses had reached your stomach you felt him lift himself up, making your previously closed eyes snap open.

"I'm gonna fuck you, and you're going to take it.” Max's voice was calm but the wild look in his eyes betrayed everything that he was saying. 

"Yes…Max.”

“Good.” The words seemed final. You gasped when you felt his tip pressed against your swollen cunt, slowly slipping in. Your hands wrapped and his back, placing them firmly but not enough to scratch him, that was until you felt him push the rest of himself in you with one thrust. Your previous slick made it easy for him to intrude your gummy walls feeling full in an instant. Your nails dug into his back as you let out a moan that mixed with Max’s grunt. 

"Jesus Christ, you're so tight. Such a good girl." he grunted, his grip tightened on your hips as he guided you down onto him. You moaned embarrassingly louder than you’d like to admit when the head of his cock brushed against your cervix. Your pussy spasmed involuntarily the deeper he got. 

"Look at you, so eager for me, Schat. Do you like it when I fuck you?"

"Yes, Max!" You cried, your walls clenching around him as he rutted into you. Your shameless cries filled the empty area, and you quickly covered your mouth to hide the sounds. 

“No, Y/N I want to hear you,” Max's hand curled around your wrist, prying your hand away from your mouth to let your moans fall. You raised your hips and bucked them, quickly grinding against him. His hands gripped your hips, surely leaving bruises later.  You started to move faster, rocking against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, as he pistoned into you, sending jolts down your spine. 

“Who knew that my pretty little wallflower could sound like such a dirty little slut.” he teased, slowly dragging his fingers across your body.  You moaned as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it roughly.

"You're so beautiful, Schat." He murmured before flipping you over, your bodies still connected so he could see your face. “All that mascara running down your face. You look absolutely ruined for me.” 

Max seemed mesmerized at the way your perky tits bounced with each thrust he made, shaking the couch with his movements— not that he cared much about that anyway. The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter, your muscles clenching around him, causing him to groan.

“That's it baby, cum all over my cock.” his encouragement only seemed to spur the burning feeling in your stomach, and with the addition of how his fingers were skillfully working on your clit, feeling the stimulation from his fingers, his pace, and now the sharp bites on your shoulder was enough to edge you into coming undone, the pressure exploding making you shake with a loud cry. Your pussy clenched down on his length engaging him in our walls doing exactly as you were told. His thrusts became more frantic and you knew he was close, "Oh god, yes, Max!" You cried, feeling the rush of your orgasm hit you. He followed suit, growling out a string of dutch words as he came, filling you completely.

“You’re going to keep every last drop.” Max whispered into your ear, steadily continuing to thrust into you, making sure his cum was stuffed well in your cunt. You whimpred a bit from the overstimulation but made no move to stop him from his goal.  

He was still panting heavily as he pulled out of you, watching the white liquid drip from your entrance, coating his length. Quickly he’d moved to reach for your discarded panties, returning to your spent body tsking under his breath as the white liquid spilled out of your body. His thick fingers gathered up the secretion, stuffing it right back inside your puffy cunt making your body jolt, a broken moan falling from your lips. Max only chuckled at your response, slipping your panties back on before placing a light kiss at your sensitive entrance. 

“You did so well for me, Schat. Same time tomorrow?” 

You were already nodding yes. 

[irndad]

Oh my gosh!!! Don’t date coworkers was so cute!!! Would you be willing to do one similar with Hotch? <3

It shouldn’t bother him.

Aaron thinks of himself as someone who adores professional candor, and wishes that his team possessed it in spades. It’s not as though she is professional in almost any other aspect. She excels in personality, and if he had any shame, it would be harder for Aaron to admit what an actual delight she is to his daily life. 

She’s kind, in a way that he’s found is rare in this world. Asks about Jack, remembers what coursework he’s struggling in and remembers to ask. She knows his coffee order, which she ascertained from reading the cup. He’s quite fond of her. David is always telling him that life is short and that any girl would be lucky to date him. In less polite terms. 

She’s beautiful. 

She’s all soft smiles and warm disposition, and she’s easy to like. She’s always the first to anticipate your needs, and Aaron can picture how he’d slot into her life, a part of him can see what it would be like to pick her up in his lavish car and drive her to the office, spend the weekends basking in her company. He’d be a good partner- he’d known how, once, and he’d try for her. 

She doesn’t date people she works with. 

The fantasy has gone too far in many ways- a version of life in his mind that lingers. She has morning ritual, and he knows it’s a little creepy he watches it from the perch of his office. She pins her hair up and puts on a coat of her lipstick, before she inevitably forgets she’s wearing it, and leaves a lip-print on her cup. It’s hard not to imagine it with her sat on his kitchen counter. 

But he knows this is a boundary of hers- and even though it’s just in his fantasies, it feels…well, wrong to fantasize about her like that. He’d heard her loud and clear, telling officer Berbrook that she makes a point not to date anyone in the Bureau. It’s arrogant to think he’d be an exception. 

This morning, she’s earlier than he’s ever seen her in the office. She’s got big, wraparound headphones and a skirt on, and two cups. She’d gotten him coffee. He might burst. He speaks out her last name when she realizes he’s in the room, and internally, a warmth blooms in his chest at the wide open smile she grants him. 

“Hi, you!”

“You’re in early.”

“Mm,” she says, her mouth still full of coffee, endearingly eager, “I know, but that coffee shop you love had fritters, and I thought you’d like one.”

Off limits. He feels his eyebrows scrunch into a frown before he speaks. 

“You didn’t have to do that. 

“No one has to do anything. I wanted to. There’s two in there, one for Jack. They keep well.”

A completely ridiculously short amount of time passes before he’s able to speak again, or more accurately as Garcia would put it, word-vomit. 

“I heard officer Berbrook asked you out. That is absolutely inappropriate- would you like me to handle it?”

“Nah,” she says back, “It’s all good.”

“Morgan told me that you have a policy of never dating anyone you work with-“

“I said that about Berbrook, Hotch. It’s not like, an off-limits thing.” She looks down at her feet. Her shoes are green, Aaron notices, helplessly endeared, “y’know, with the right person…I wouldn’t want to close that door, do you know what I mean?”

Her doe eyes peer up at him, and he knows that she’s hear 30 minutes before anyone else is just to be able to get him food, telling him that she’s open to dating coworkers, and once upon a time he could’ve taken a fucking hint. 

In his younger years, when he was bolder and better able to ask for the things he wants, he might’ve asked her out right then. Might have run him and made a dinner reservation, somewhere with candle-light for an evening that would end with her being kissed against a wall or a car. 

But for now, he takes a bite of his fritter and makes some plans. If he’s got a shot with her, that’s a revelation that’s going to need some intense planning and preparing for. He’d like to woo her, if that’s something he could ever get to do. 

“Good fritter.”

“I know, right?” 

[weenwrites]

Can you write Optimus, Ratchet, and Predaking with an s/o who has idiopathic Hypersomnia? (It's a sleep disorder that makes someone incredibly sleepy all the time, and no matter how much they sleep, they're always tired and are incredibly hard to wake up.)

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Optimus

If you need a gentle reminder here and there to take any prescribed medicine, he quickly adapts to reminding you. His own sense of time is rather accurate, so he usually doesn't rely on a clock to know when you remind you. If you have a timer of your own to ensure that you'll definitely remember, he'll remind you a little early each time without fail.

And ever since you've told him more about your condition, he's tried to make the base more accommodating for whenever you need to take a brief rest. The couch isn't the most comfortable, given that it's rather old and worn, so he keeps cushions, blankets, and whatever else you might need to make it more comfortable somewhere within reach.

Additionally, the reason the base is made more accommodating is because at times you have to wait for him to escort you home whenever he's out on a mission or for reconnaissance. Granted, the groundbridge is also an option, and he does request for Ratchet to bridge you back to your home at times, but you've noticed that there are periods where the team cuts back on groundbridge usage due to an energon shortage. During these times, Optimus usually escorts you back to your home early and so you don't have to wait, but in the event where you are left waiting, the couch is much more comfortable than it was when you first arrived. He's sorry to make you wait, but he's grateful for your patience.

Ratchet

Whenever you start feeling tired at the base, he's got the couch ready for you with a few pillows and blankets and he's ready to tell everyone else to keep quiet for you just as he begins to work quieter if he can. However, in the event where the main area of the base is too loud, he's moved you and the couch to his habsuite before. It's further from all the noise and its quieter there.

He'll consistently remind you to take any prescribed medication and go to bed on time every night, since he's seen in a health article that it's good to maintain a consistent sleep schedule. So if he sees that you're still active on your phone, you'd best believe he'll be on your case, telling you to go to sleep (unless he knows that you're busy with something important that night).

If your condition prevented you from obtaining a driver's license, or whenever you feel too fatigued to drive yourself someplace to do an important task or go home, he'll of course be your go-to driver as long as he's available. You'll also be doing him a service since he rarely leaves the base, so don't you dare try to assure him that you're awake enough to try and drive yourself around. As a driver you understand how important it is to remain awake and alert 24/7 on the road.

Predaking

Initially he wasn't even aware that your condition was considered abnormal. He already thought that it was strange that humans had to rest so frequently, so he hadn't thought much of your fatigue until you explained more about your condition to him. Though once or twice, he may have gotten a little concerned when it took a little more than a gentle nudge to wake you up, but it's due to his limited understanding of humans.

Whenever you take brief naps aboard the Nemesis, he's always sure to bring you to the quietest and most secluded areas of the ship so you can rest in peace. Of course it's rather hard, given the fact that the engine's whirring can be heard from every corner of the vessel, but he still tries. As such, the other vehicons around the ship quickly catch onto the message he spells out with a low warning growl and his flayed fangs, regardless of whether they see you sleeping beneath all those blankets or not.

If he hadn't been ordered to keep his identity a secret from other humans, nothing would stop him from flying you wherever you need to go whenever you're too tired. But all he can really do for you is try and help you get some rest in peace, or remind you to take your medication but he feels it isn't enough. At times like these, he's embarrassed of his own powerlessness. At the very least he can request a groundbridge to transport you home, but he wishes he could do that himself instead.

[anantaru]

danheng or jingyuan hate sex 🙉

including. dan heng & jing yuan

cw. rough, fem! reader

— dan heng

dan heng had his eyes on you, day and night, and particularly right now, with his forehead pressing to your own as his body drops on top of you, bouncing forward and back against yours, amplified by the power behind his rough pace.

you can say that it wasn't a big surprise that he was visibly aggressive in this current scenario with your frame tightly squeezed under him, hitting his hips into your cunt as your body follows his dominant lead, your pointy nipples brushing against his well-shaped chest as you whine at the unblended strength permeating in the impacts of his greedy blows, your soaked pussy stretching as he's targeting all the hidden pleasure buttons inside of you.

it's crystal clear and you're aware of the reality— that you both didn't necessarily like each other very much, some might directly go as far as to assume that you extensively detested even being in the same room as each other.

if only your needy bodies wouldn't act so fucking perfectly and fine together, like a golden symphony straight out of an ethereal play— glossy, exposed skin feeling every twitch and ridge of his length between your quivering legs as crystalline pebbles gather slowly on your sticky lashes when you finally decide to speak out for the very first time during this eventful night.

of course— other than moaning and hiccuping at how flawless and great he was fucking you.

"this— fuck! this doesn't change a thing!"

you yell out, hiding your face in his neck and wetly whining when he grinds his shaft into your sweet cunt, a little faster this time and you could swear on it, swear that you heard a subtle laugh against your ear, one of a breathless kind, evidently assimilated with nonchalance.

"d-don't worry." dan heng coos back at you, as you would expect, apathetic by nature, "i wouldn't want to change anything anyways."

— jing yuan

hatred is such a strong word, isn't it?

by all means, jing yuan tends to, on the face of it, find it beyond fitting and flawless when it comes to describing your 'special' relationship— if you can even call it a relationship in the first place.

granted, wether it was anything work related that you two had to be in the same room together for, or seemingly innocent discussions about whatever topic at hand would concern the both of you, you never would agree on anything— it even got to a point where it became an insider between your peers, stating that whatever the case, if you were to choose one route, jing yuan would take the other, just out of spite.

well, but at least only your minds weren't compatible.

because when it came to your bodies, they surely worked in tune with each other and you hated how much the general could get possessive of you too— whilst this was a different story, yet for some reason jing yuan couldn't let you be with someone else, despite him viciously claiming that he couldn't stand your guts.

but what you, on the other hand, couldn't understand all the more, was on how his almost insane possession over your entire being made you crave him twice as much, entirely, how you adored it whenever you melted into his body when he fucked you, it honestly made your mouth water at the simple thought of it.

and how you can just easily wrap your legs around his hips as he thrusts himself into your tight hole, feeling your sore and clamping pussy all over him as you cry out into his neck, desperate and without shame— the knot in your lower belly close and tight, ready to break, so good that it was beginning to ache from inside and out.

his hips were now, surging forward and branding your walls with his pre, and jing yuan, the ever so handsome general, set a steady, yet strong tempo to rocking his thick, thudding cock into you, because you can take it, right? can take him— and perhaps you both were indeed lucky in a way, to have found at least something that for one, will make you choose the same route.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[inkedinshadows]

Alcohol and Giggles

Day 22: Drunk sex — Cassian x f!reader

Warnings: oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v, just two drunken idiots in love tbh

Word count: 1.810

A/N: I'm so happy to finally share this one because it's one of my favorites and I think it's cute 💫

You stumbled back toward the bed, never once breaking the sloppy kiss you and Cassian had been sharing since the moment you staggered through the door.

Both of you were already half-naked, though you had no recollection of exactly when or where your clothes had been discarded. You’d had too many drinks at Rita’s, and though you couldn’t remember the last time you drank so much, a heated glance and a tantalizing touch had been enough to set both of you off on a frenzy the likes of which you hadn’t felt since accepting the mating bond.

The back of your legs hit the bed, and you gladly fell onto it, pulling Cassian down with you. What you didn’t realize was that your mate was much heavier than you. In his drunken state his reflexes weren’t as sharp as usual, and you did not have the strength to hold him up.

Cassian clumsily fell on top of you, bumping his forehead against yours. He groaned, but you couldn’t hold back a giggle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you cupped his face to bring him closer. “Here, let me kiss it better.”

Amusement sparkled in his hazel eyes. “You could kiss something else better.”

You frowned. “Your lips?”

“My cock.”

You stared at each other for a moment, smirks blooming on your faces. Without wasting any more time, you finished shedding the rest of your clothes. Once you were both naked, you lay prone next to him where he sat on the side of the bed. Your vision was a bit blurry on the edges, but when you fixed your eyes on his crotch, everything was clear enough.

Cassian was still soft, and as you wrapped your lips around his cock, a rush of excitement cursed through your body at the prospect of feeling him swell in your mouth while you sucked him off. One of his broad hands held your hair back as you worked him, a small groan escaping him. His other hand caressed down your back, then your ass, before parting your legs to find your clit. Deft fingers teased you until you were wet enough for them to slip inside, and you moaned softly around him.

After a few minutes, you were about to come. And yet, despite your best efforts, Cassian wasn’t hard yet. For the first time since you had known him, your mate couldn’t get an erection.

“Why isn’t it working?” he complained as you let him slip out of your mouth and he pulled his fingers out of you. No point in going on if it didn’t get you anywhere.

“It’s alright,” you reassured him, though you hid your own disappointment. “Maybe it’s just not the right time.”

His wings rustled softly behind him as he whined, “But I want you, baby. I swear I do, I promise…”

You chuckled as he rambled on about how much he really wanted you, but your attention quickly shifted to his wings when they again moved slightly, and an idea burrowed its way into your intoxicated mind.

“Can I touch your wings?” you interrupted him, a hand already extended toward the one closer to you.

Cassian stilled, and for a moment you thought he might refuse, but then he grinned and unfolded them to grant you better access, clearly catching on to your plan. Your fingers wandered over the sensitive skin for a few seconds before finding the right spot. Just as you brushed it, he groaned and got hard right under your watchful gaze.

With a smile, you pulled your hand away and turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Still want me to kiss it better?”

Cassian snorted. He scooped you up without a word, and you let out a little shriek. He placed you in the center of the large bed, spreading your legs and settling between them. You watched him kneel there, taking in the tattoos and the wings and the sculpted body, and you couldn’t tell if your head was spinning from the alcohol or from his beauty.

“I want to fuck you now,” he finally said, his voice a low growl that made you shiver.

But as he grabbed your thighs, Cassian just frowned down at your still dripping folds. His confused expression made you giggle, and you pushed yourself up on your elbows.

“What is it?”

He looked even more worried. “Your cunt… there’s two of them.”

“What?!”

For a moment, fear coiled in your gut at the news. How could you not have noticed it before? Then, your drunk brain finally processed Cassian’s words, and you burst out laughing.

He looked at you, visibly outraged by your lack of concern. “Why are you laughing?” He sounded on the verge of a panic attack. “This is a serious issue!”

You laughed even harder, but in between fits, you managed to say, “Cass, baby… you’re seeing double!”

His eyes narrowed as he stared between your legs as if trying to make sense of the situation, until finally, “Ohhh.”

He chuckled along with you as he leaned over. You lay back down and let him press you into the mattress, his arms bracing on either side of your head.

“So I can fuck you as usual?” he murmured in what you assumed was supposed to be a sensual tone, but it somehow came out as really cheeky.

You smiled and nodded nonetheless. “Yes, you can fuck me. And please do. I want to be fucked.”

Cassian answered with a hungry kiss. He snaked a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your entrance. You waited to feel the familiar stretch, but instead he began to poke around.

You giggled at the almost ticklish feeling, sure that he would soon thrust into you. When he didn’t, you raised your eyebrows. “What are you doing?” you questioned. Was this some kind of new foreplay he wanted to try?

His words were a mumble you could barely understand. “I can’t find it…”

“What?”

The poking continued, a bit more aggressively.

“I can’t find it!”

Your eyes widened and you didn’t know if you wanted to laugh again or sigh in frustration. “Cass, you know exactly where it is! You touched me just a moment ago.”

“I’m telling you I can’t find it, Y/N!”

He pulled himself up to kneel between your legs again. Brows furrowed, cock in his hand, he put all his focus in nudging his tip around to find the right spot. He was even biting his lip.

You had to admit that there was something extremely sexy about how concentrated he looked.

And then he finally found your entrance, and you moaned as you felt him slowly slide inside of you.

“Oh, there she is,” he groaned once he was fully seated.

All the alcohol you’d had over the night was really going to your head because you couldn’t stop giggling at his comment even after he began to thrust.

Cassian set a slow pace, hands on your hips. His face was still contorted in concentration as he looked at you. “Am I doing it wrong?”

A weird sound came out of you, somewhere between a chuckle and a moan as his cock brushed that sensitive spot on your walls.

“No,” you managed to get out. Your belly was starting to ache from all the laughter. “No, it’s great…”

“Then why are you laughing?” he asked, giving a few tentative rolls of his hips.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” You took a deep breath, trying to suppress the giggles, covering your face with your hands as you did. “I can’t help it… I’m drunk, Cass.”

Cassian leaned over and gently grasped your wrists to pull them away from your face. That look of concern vanished now that he knew it wasn’t his fault, replaced by his beautiful smile.

“Don’t hide, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I love your laugh.”

For some reason, it made you want to laugh again, but you held it back this time. Freeing your hands from his grip, you traced the contour of his lips with a finger. He left a tiny kiss on its tip.

“I love your smile,” you whispered back. “I just love you.”

Said smile only widened at your words, so much that you could have sworn it lit up the whole room. Or maybe that was the bond between your souls, thrumming with golden light. Either way, even drunk, Cassian’s eyes shone with unbridled affection and care.

“I love you too.”

When he kissed you, you lifted your legs to wrap them around his waist, your heels digging slightly into his butt cheeks in a silent request to move a little faster. He complied, even as he pulled his head away to mumble, “I’m not going to last long, sweetheart… I’m drunk too.”

You smiled, nodding. “That’s okay, baby. I know.”

Cassian buried his face in your neck as he thrust faster and deeper, and your fingers tangled in his long hair almost like you were cradling his head. Soon, lewd sounds echoed in the room—moans, heavy breaths, and the wet slapping of your bodies colliding. He reached down with a hand to draw circles on your clit. You didn’t need him to use words to know that he was close but wanted you to come with him.

His movements became frantic, and you bucked your hips to meet him thrust for thrust. It was a matter of seconds before he gently bit down on your neck while he came with a groan. Feeling his seed spurt deep inside you tipped you off the edge. You shuddered, wrapping your body tighter around his, and you were floating on a cloud as pleasure and intoxication blended together.

Slowly, Cassian lifted his head to kiss you again—tenderly, softly, nothing like the heated passion of moments ago. After you broke apart and you untangled from each other, he lay by your side and opened his arms for you to snuggle between them. You didn’t hesitate to curl up against his chest.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex when we’re this drunk again,” you mused, resting your head where his heart was. You could hear it beating beneath your ear. “It was nice, but too short.”

Cassian hummed in agreement before he added, “And I couldn’t get hard.”

“Worked just fine once you did, though,” you offered. “But we didn’t last long.”

“We’ll make up for it tomorrow. I promise, baby.”

You nodded and nestled more comfortably in his strong arms. He planted a kiss on the crown of your head, and then you both closed your eyes as drunkenness and sex hung heavy over you.

“You thought I had two cunts,” you suddenly said, the mere thought sending you into another fit of laughter.

This time, Cassian’s hearty laugh joined yours as he held you closer.

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[livwritesstuff]

not exactly a happy one, and vaguely inspired by some stuff going on in my personal life

Eddie is pretty much constantly in awe of his oldest daughter Moe.

Granted, he’s in awe of all three of his kids, albeit for different reasons across the board, but Moe in particular because of how nothing gets to her. It’s kind of crazy, honestly, the way she can roll with the punches – it’s actually very Steve-like, and she's basically his double so that makes sense, but where Steve was doing it out of necessity, Moe seems to be innately unbothered by even the worst that life has thrown at her, and in all his years of raising her, there have been only two occasions where Eddie has seen Moe unable to immediately shake something off.

The first time was when the girls got their results back from at-home genetic tests and found out that Moe has a different bio-dad from her younger sisters.

The second time is now, after Moe learned that she didn’t pass the Bar Exam.

She didn't react great, obviously, and Eddie can admit his dismissive, "No way," when she told them probably hadn't helped at all but, in his defense, she made it through law school with as close to flying colors as one can get in goddamn law school, and she's been working her ass off studying for the Bar, so none of them had expected her to not pass. When she only looked blankly at her laptop screen for a moment before saying, "Fuck, I failed," as her head fell into her hands...yeah, Eddie sort of thought she was kidding.

"C'mon Moe," he'd continued after his entirely tactless no way, "Don't fuck with us about this."

And Moe had just given him a betrayed kind of look before shoving her chair out from the table and storming away.

A moment or two later, Steve had mumbled, "Shit, she actually didn't pass," sounding a bit perplexed as he looked at Moe's laptop like the big, red FAILED might suddenly change to something else.

They gave Moe a couple minutes before following after her.

“Hon,” Steve begins when they find her sulking (in the laundry room, of all places), “I’m sorry. I remember from my psych stuff what this shit is like. I get how –”

“No, you don’t!” Moe exclaims, “You don’t get it because you passed your test on the first fucking try even though you’ve got, like, brain damage or some shit.”

Moe misses the hurt look that passes over Steve’s face for a moment before he’s able to mask it.

Eddie does not.

“That’s how low the–”

“Alright,” Eddie interrupts, and he tugs Moe back by the hood of her sweatshirt, ignoring her protests as he begins ushering her down the hall and out the door.

He corrals her all the way out to the car parked in the driveway, opens the passenger-side door with one hand and shoves Moe into the car with the other.

“What the–” Moe protests. 

“Can it,” he cuts her off, slamming the door on whatever retort she might have had for him.

Once he's in the driver's seat and the car is rumbling to a start, he turns to look at her.

“I understand that you're upset, Moe. I really do, but you do not get to take that out on Pop,” Eddie told her, “He’s way too good to you for that.”

Moe has the decency to look somewhat mollified even though she doesn't saying anything (which has always been a tell-tale sign that she knows she's in the wrong), and as Eddie throws the car in reverse and starts backing out of the driveway, she curls in on herself, leaning against the car door.

Eddie drives for a while with no real destination in mind (same as twenty-something years ago when Moe was a baby and Eddie would drive aimlessly around Cambridge in the hopes she'd maybe doze off).

After ten or so minutes of silence, Moe quietly says, “Literally everyone else I was in school with passed.”

Eddie glances at her, and does a double-take when he sees that she’s scrolling on goddamn Instagram. He reaches over to yank her phone out of her hand and toss it behind him into the depths of the back seat where it lands with a questionable clatter.

“Dad – what the fuck?” Moe looks at him, “If that’s broken now–”

“Then we get it fixed,” Eddie replied, “Or we buy another one. I don't care. Moe – when the fuck did you ever give a shit about other people?”

Moe gives a minute shrug as she looks away again.

“It’s been a point of contention with you basically since birth,” Eddie continues, “Seriously, it’s – and do not tell your father I said this, but it’s my favorite thing about you and I never want it to change.”

Again, Moe mostly ignores this.

"I get that this is disappointing and I get that it’s a setback and there's nothing any of us can say to make it better, but take it from someone who needed three tries to graduate high school — screw everyone else. Screw 'em. It's okay if something takes a little longer than you wanted it to.”

Eddie pauses, because there’s a lot he’s not saying here, stuff about how his third try at his senior year was hell on earth in pretty much every way possible, but how he also knows that if he hadn’t gone through it he wouldn’t have made life-long friends in Robin and Nancy. He wouldn’t have Steve and he wouldn't have everything about their life together the way it is today.

He settles on adding, “Sometimes you get a whole lotta good out of it in the end.”

After a moment, Moe actually nods, which Eddie takes as a victory.

"So...take the time you need to be disappointed or sad or angry or whatever. When you’re feeling better – or even when you’re not – you gotta apologize to Pop, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eddie glances at her again.

"You wanna stop and grab stuff to make margaritas?" he asks.

"God, yes."