#he said he's never watched it and i offered to watch it with him! i'm excited

[mggslover]

No Strings Attached

In which reader is on a mission to get her boss to relieve some stress, not realizing he'd end up doing the same for her.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: porn with plot, jessica and jack make an appearance, no mention of haley, hotch smiling (lol), reader being sad and a bit insecure bc she hasn't got laid in a while, mentions of drinking wine, no strings attached (but not really bc they're obsessed with each other), soft!dom hotch, praise, breast play, ass worship, oral (f receiving), p in v sex Word count: 4,7k A/n: first time writing a fic dedicated to Hotch and i fear i'm obsessed... also i had to do some acrobatics to make sure these positions work (they do) so give me a heart for the effort your feedback and support are highly appreciated!

Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. And these days, even more so. The responsibilities of being Unit Chief were always demanding, but they seemed to multiply now that he was balancing the weight of single parenthood as well.

As a profiler it was obvious to you how much he struggled with juggling between these professions, even though he always tried to hide it from the team. You noticed his slightly furrowed brow when he thought no one was watching, and the slow drag of his steps as he moved between meetings and paperwork.

Since you’d joined the team, you'd developed a deep respect for Aaron. Where others saw a hard-nosed, no-nonsense boss—a “drill sergeant” in Morgan’s words—you saw a man who held himself and his team to incredibly high standards because he believed in their potential. You saw a man who cared deeply, even when his personal life was slowly suffocating beneath the pressure of it all.

Even if he would never admit it, no human being can go through the difficulties he goes through without ever catching a break, without getting any help. So tonight, as you passed his office, a light still flickering inside, you decided to do something about it.

Your knuckle made contact with the door, knocking three times as you waited. When there was no immediate response, you quietly creaked the door open.

The sight of him behind the desk was familiar. His shoulders were hunched and his brows furrowed in concentration, as he scanned the endless stacks of paperwork that seemed to breed faster than he could handle them.

"Hey," you greeted softly, offering a small smile as you stepped into the room.

Hotch looked up from the pile in front of him, his gaze flicking from the documents to you. There was a slight exhaustion behind his eyes that he didn’t try to mask.

"Hey.” His eyes dropped to his wristwatch for just a moment, his lips curling into a subtle frown. "It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

You waved off his concern. "I’m about to. Had to send a few more emails for the lab reports."

He nodded, but didn’t immediately return to his work. Instead, he watched you with that signature intensity of his, silently observing you.

"I- uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You hesitated for a moment as you moved further into the room, the door gently clicking shut behind you.

His brows rose slightly, an almost imperceptible shift of interest in his posture. "Go on."

You cleared your throat, your hands instinctively clasping behind your back. "You’ve been working a lot of late nights."

“That’s not a question.” He stated in an amused tone.

A small smile played on your lips. "I know, but it’s a… concern," you said. "And I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you out."

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. His hands folded neatly in his lap, and he leaned back in his chair. It was hard to tell whether he was considering your offer or mentally debating the logistics of it.

"You want to help me out?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes.”

Aaron grabbed a stack of papers, knocking them into a neat pile on his desk, then looked back at you. "So, this is something you’re interested in?" His tone was laced with amusement as he nodded down at the amount of paperwork in his hands.

You winced at the sight of it. "Uh... not exactly," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "I was thinking more along the lines of taking care of Jack," you added, raising your voice slightly on the last part, unsure of how he’d react to your suggestion.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Taking care of Jack?"

"Yeah.” You met his gaze, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty creeping in. "Just on the days we don’t have a case. I could go to your place and stay with him until you get home."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Jessica’s there," he said, referring to his ex-sister-in-law who had taken on the role of taking care of Jack when he had to work.

“Don’t you think she deserves a break every once in a while?”

His expression shifted, becoming slightly defensive. "She offered to take care of him.”

"I know," you responded quickly, knowing he’d never force her into it. "But I’m offering too. I babysat all through university, I know what I’m doing."

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, his eyes flicking back to the papers in front of him. "That’s not necessary, but thank you," he said, his tone closing the conversation.

You weren’t ready to let it go yet. You stepped closer to his desk, hoping to draw his attention back. "Please? I want to help you."

He didn’t look up. "I don’t need any help," he stubbornly replied, his eyes still glued to the paperwork.

“Then let me put it this way,” you pressed on. "I want to help the team, because no offense, your stress is affecting all of us. And on top of that, I want to help Jack."

He glanced up at you, the wheels in his mind turning, and you showed him your best puppy eyes.

"Did you learn that from Reid?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Is it working?" you grinned back.

He chuckled breathlessly. "Alright, fine. One night. Let’s see how it goes."

You fought back a victorious grin. “Good. Just you wait, Hotchner. Once you see how great I am with kids, you’ll never let me go."

—

A week later, Hotch took you up on your offer. Jessica had a wedding to attend, and you’d agreed to look after Jack for the evening.

Though you’d spent plenty of time with Jack when he visited his dad at the office or at events outside of work, Hotch insisted on driving you to his place for a proper handoff.

He held the door open for you as you entered his apartment. You were immediately greeted by Jessica, dressed in a stunning outfit with a purse ready in hand.

"I’m late, I’m late!" she panicked, almost running as she headed for the door. But when she saw you, her demeanor softened.

“There’s my saving grace,” she said with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

You waved her off with a grin. “It’s my pleasure. You look amazing, go have fun.”

She offered a final smile, then said her goodbyes to Hotch before quickly heading out.

“Hi, Dad!” Jack’s voice rang out as he bounced into the living room, his excitement palpable. You smiled, watching the little boy as he ran toward his father.

“Hey, buddy.” Hotch lifted him into his arms with a small groan. “You’re getting bigger every day.”

Your heart warmed at the exchange. Hotch was a completely different man when he was at home—more relaxed, more playful, the kind of father who carefully kept work and family separate.

He put Jack down, introducing you to him.

“I know who she is, Dad. We colored together. She’s really good at drawing Spider-Man.”

Hotch raised an intrigued eyebrow at you.

"I have more hidden talents than you know,” you playfully shrugged.

You turned to Jack, crouching down to his level. "Want to grab the crayons? We can make some more drawings."

Jack’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he scampered off in search of his favorite colors, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll find the red one!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm and straightened up, turning back to Hotch. “You’ve got a sweet kid,”

Hotch’s eyes followed Jack as he rummaged through the drawer. There was pride in the way he looked at his son, but you could see the hint of anxiety that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface when it came to Jack.

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him a small, comforting squeeze. “He’s in good hands, Hotch. You don’t have to worry.”

He met your eyes, and for a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. His gaze softened with unspoken gratitude. “I trust you,” he spoke sincerely.

“Good.” You gave him a small smile and gave his bicep a final, reassuring pat. “Now get some work done. You might be able to make it in time for dinner.”

With a final glance at Jack, he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and you were left on your own with the mini version of him, who was already showing off his new crayons.

—

That evening marked the first of many. When you weren’t out on a case, you found yourself naturally heading to Hotch's after work—sometimes taking over from Jessica for the day or picking up Jack from school yourself. You often stayed well into the evening, even after Hotch came home, enjoying dinner together, playing games, or simply talking. There were even times where you stayed the night, sharing a quiet drink after putting Jack to bed. He’d insist you sleep in his bed while he took the couch. In the mornings, the three of you would share breakfast, with Hotch always ensuring the fridge was stocked with your favorite foods and knowing exactly how you liked your eggs.

You knew your colleagues would lose their minds if they’d ever find out, but for you, it never felt strange. It felt right. Comfortable. And whenever you were back on the field, you’d slip back into your professional roles—the accidental first-name slips the only sign of the bond you shared.

Being at their place made you realize how much your work had tangled itself into every aspect of your life. You’d moved away from family, struggled to maintain a personal life, and watched every attempt at dating falter because of your job. Despite how fulfilling your work at the BAU was, you’d forgotten just how deeply you craved a sense of belonging—a place where you were appreciated for more than just your professional skills or your ability to handle a weapon. Around Aaron and Jack, you could simply let go and be yourself.

Today was another day at the Hotchner house. You had spent the entire afternoon with Jack playing soccer in a nearby park until he was utterly exhausted, you practically had to drag him home. This time you didn’t mind though. Today has been a painful reminder of how single you were. The park had been filled with happy couples—some picnicking, some feeding the ducks, and others nervously sharing their first kiss.

You were grateful for how Aaron had allowed you to wiggle your way into his little family on days like these, but still it wasn’t yours. You still longed for one to call your own one day.

So, here you were—alone on the couch, watching a rom-com wishing you were starring in it, and finding comfort in the warmth of his house and the glass of wine in your hand.

You were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice the door unlocking until Hotch stepped inside.

“Hey,” you greeted, reaching for the remote to pause the film.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket. He loosened his tie and walked over to the couch, settling on the opposite end.

“Sorry, I opened a new bottle of wine”

He waved it off. “I’m glad that you did. It would’ve just collected dust on the shelf.”

You take another sip. “It’s a good one. Rossi’s?”

“You know it,” he replied with a soft smile, getting comfortable in the cushions as you put the movie back on.

The screen flickered with a romantic scene: a couple dancing in the rain, the male lead spinning the woman around in circles as they laughed.

“I miss that,” you murmured, a wistful smile tugging at your lips as you watched them.

Hotch glanced at you, a smirk forming. “It’s raining outside. Be my guest.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing the comment. “That’s not what I meant. Just look, Aaron,” you pointed at the TV, where the couple gazed at each other lovingly, before he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.”

“Sometimes, I feel so desperate that I think about saying yes to the first guy who comes along, just to feel wanted again.”

Hotch straightened, concern flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I know, Dad,” you teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m unfortunately fully aware of the creeps out there.”

“On top of that, I’m not even sure anyone would take me up on it,” you added with a breathless laugh, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I haven’t exactly gotten much attention since joining the team. Maybe I’m not considered attractive anymore.”

“People can tell you know how to handle yourself,” he profiled. “Some find that intimidating. But you’re just as attractive—if not more so—than before you joined the team.”

You almost spilled your wine at his confession, the sudden heat in your cheeks betraying the flutter in your stomach.

“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel pity for you.

“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice steady. You met his gaze—his posture was open, his shoulders relaxed, and his eye contact was unwavering. It was textbook honesty.

“No,” you admitted quietly, feeling the truth of his words sink in.

“I don’t think you need some stranger or a serious relationship to get what you’re after.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “No?”

Hotch leaned in just a little, his voice lower now. “I think we could give each other what we need... without it being complicated.”

Your heart skipped, and you tried to process what he was suggesting. Your mind raced, the words hanging in the air between you.

“Are you suggesting a no-strings-attached relationship with me?”

He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m trying to be subtle about it, but it’s not going so well.”

You laughed, caught off guard, trying to mask your surprise as you saw the seriousness in his expression.

“How will this work?”

The corners of his lips lifted as you acknowledged thinking this through. “We would just… enjoy ourselves. Just when we’re here. Just when it’s the two of us.”

Enjoying yourself with Aaron Hotchner definitely wasn’t how you’d imagined this night going.

You stayed quiet, thinking it over. After a moment you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes. I am,” you responded, the words coming easier now.

You licked your lips nervously as he moved closer to you. His cologne enveloped you, making your pulse quicken.

As he continued gazing into your eyes, you decided it was your turn to make the next move. Carefully, you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against the palm of your hand. A small prayer passed through your mind, hoping you wouldn’t regret your next decision.

Then you kissed him.

The moment his lips met yours, the cliché of “fireworks” suddenly made sense—the feeling was intense, electric, a rush that left you breathless. His hands moved to the sides of your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could think, you were settled on his lap, the world around you narrowing to the heat of his touch.

A small, desperate whimper escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours. It had been so long since someone touched you this way—especially someone as strong and attractive as Aaron. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips as your hand slid over his chest, the other wrapping around his neck. He deepened the kiss, and the feeling was so overwhelming that it almost made you cry in relief.

He brushed his hands over the smooth curve of your waist and down the swell of your thighs, digging his fingers into the clothed skin.

Your soft moans were swallowed by your kisses, and you couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips against his, feeling yourself get more aroused with each movement against the thin fabric of his slacks.

He let out a low grunt as you repeatedly rolled your hips against the hardening bulge in his pants. His large hands roamed up beneath your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You placed your hands over his, ready to take your shirt off, but just as quickly his hands closed around your wrists, stopping you gently.

“Not here,” he warned. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

His words sent a rush of desire to your core, and though your legs trembled, you stood from his lap and followed him across the room. As he moved, Hotch unbuckled his belt with one swift, effortless motion. You paused mid-step, breath catching at the sight of the leather coiled in his hand, hypnotised by how seductive the image looked. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance, before hurrying after him, your legs trying to catch up to his confident pace.

You stepped into the bedroom, moving until you stood at the foot of the bed as he locked the door behind you. A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at the reality of what was about to happen.

Hotch walked toward you, slowly closing the distance. His eyes were dark as they took you in with a look of pure lust—one you’d previously never seen on him.

“Turn around for me.”

Maybe it was because you were so accustomed to his authority in the field, or perhaps it was the undeniable fact that you'd let him do anything to you at this point, but without a second thought, you obeyed, turning your back toward him.

His hands reached out to rub over your shoulders in slow circles. You instinctively leaned into him, your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch. He presses in closer, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“What is it that you’ve been longing for?” His voice is a soft, sensual whisper, his breath warm against your skin.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands delicately trail over your collarbones, carefully moving lower, inching toward your breasts. The moment his palms cup them, your nipples harden.

He hummed, still awaiting a response.

“You,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible through the thick need.

You feel the faint curve of a teasing smile against your skin. “You already have me,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can make you feel good.”

His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you arch your back into him, feeling the solid press of his body against yours, the hardness in his pants meeting you once again.

“It’s been a while since-” your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers pinch your nipples.

“Since what?” he teased, his lips tracing the curve of your neck, each kiss setting your skin alight.

You swallowed. “Since… since someone’s gone down on me.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, the sound rich with interest. His tongue slides up your neck, before turning it into a kiss.

“Aaron, please,” you begged, grinding your hips into him.

“How can someone like you have been deprived of pleasure for so long?” he thought out loud, and he finally grabbed the material of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

His hands glide softly over your back, before he unclasps your bra with one smooth motion. Your breasts spill free, and he immediately cups them in his hands, holding them as if he wants to keep you warm and covered. The pleasure is even more delicious now that the contact is skin-to-skin.

His hands roam over your stomach, until he reaches the button of your pants, undoing it. He sinks to his knees behind you, his fingers curling around the waistband of your pants and panties, easing them down. A low curse escapes him as the fabric slides over your ass and down your thighs, revealing more of you inch by inch.

You held onto his shoulder for support, as he steadied your leg, guiding you to step out of your pants. The second he tossed the fabric to the side, he placed his hands steadily on your thighs, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your ass. You let out a moan, bucking forward, but he holds you firmly in place as his lips trail wet, lingering kisses over your cheeks.

“Place your knee on the bed for me,” he tenderly instructs.

You followed his order, lifting one knee onto the bed, your upper body arching slightly as it hovers just above the mattress. The cool air brushes over your exposed pussy as you’re displayed in front of him.

A loud moan leaves your mouth, as his tongue makes contact with your folds. The pressure is just right, each flick of his tongue drawing a sharp gasp from you as he licks up and down in a deliberate rhythm.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through you as he speaks, “dripping down your thighs already.” His lips trail lower, and he laps up the wetness that has gathered on your inner thighs, his stubble tickling against your sensitive skin. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.

Aaron’s tongue returns to your pussy, the tip of it firmly pushing inside, curling upward as he slides in and out, hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each thrust makes you cry out.

You let out a small whine as his tongue retreats, pressing a delicate kiss to the tender skin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he starts, licking his lips clean, “I love hearing you, but you can’t be too loud.”

You silently nodded, your breath hitching as his finger unhurriedly traced your sensitive folds. Just as he was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“I- I need your cock,” you whined, your hips pushing back toward him, desperate for more.

“Yeah? You need it that bad?” he teased, as he rose to his feet behind you.

You crawled onto the bed, glancing back at him. His lips still glistened with the trace of you, and his eyes were locked onto yours, filled with predatory focus.

“I need it, Aaron,” you repeated, biting your bottom lip as your gaze lingered on the hard outline of his length pressed against his thigh.

He groaned, his hands quickly pulling at his tie, tossing it aside before he began unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were confident—like a private performance just for you. You leaned back on your arms, your feet planted on the bed, allowing him to see just how much he was making you ache for him.

As he removed his shirt, the muscles in his broad shoulder flexed, and the trail of dark hair down his stomach led your eyes straight to what you craved.

He wasn’t shy as he pulled his pants down, eager to show you just how worked up you’d made him. His length stood hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You instinctively pressed your thighs together, giving you a soft release of tension.

He joined you on the bed, lying on his side and pulling you flush against his chest, spooning you. His lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his groans vibrating against your mouth. His hand explored your front, squeezing your breasts, while his arousal pressed insistently against your ass.

You moaned, your leg draping over his as you shifted, opening yourself up to him. He reached down, gripping his length, positioning it against you before slowly pushing inside, stretching you inch by inch.

You took a sharp breath, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. His cock throbbed, as if begging for you to move. Slowly, you rolled your hips, taking more of him in, and Hotch’s low growl rumbled in your ear.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “Taking me so well.”

He was fully inside you now, filling you completely, and his hand slid down to your exposed clit, his fingers moving in slow, rhythmic circles. His thrusts matched the pace, deep and deliberate.

Every movement sent shockwaves through your body, your breath quickening as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in your stomach.

“I’m close, Aaron,” you whimpered, and he moaned in response, placing soft kisses along your jaw before sucking at your neck, marking you.

His fingers moved faster, pushing you closer to the edge, and your body twitched as your orgasm crashed over you. His arms held you tight, anchoring you as the sensations slowly subsided.

When he withdrew his hand from your clit, it slid down to your knee, bending your leg to spread you even wider. Without warning, he began pounding into you, the sudden change in speed making you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“Be quiet for me. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warned. You involuntarily moaned at the way he commanded you, and he grunted in response.

With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, your body pressed flat against the bed. A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them to raise your ass in the air, before entering you again.

One hand pressed firmly into your shoulder, holding you down, while the other gripped your hips, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts. The new position did its job—your moans were muffled into the pillow, leaving only the wet slap of skin and the sound of Hotch’s deep, guttural grunts with each push of his hips.

“They're so stupid for not wanting you,” he groaned. “You have me now. I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After feeling this, you knew you wouldn’t ever be satisfied by anyone else. You would want no one but him.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he breathed, bending over so his chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you.

“Oh-“ Your breath caught as the sensation in your core tightened again. “Yes, please. Inside of me, please.” You couldn’t form a full sentence as the heat inside of your core builds up again.

He reaches under you to touch your clit, and the instant his fingers make contact, you come undone. Your legs tremble, giving way beneath you as the rush of pleasure takes over. Hotch pushes into you two more times before you feel him spill inside, the sensation sending you into another, deeper orgasm.

He presses soft, tender kisses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I got a little carried away.”

You hum in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at your lips. “I’m glad you did.”

—

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had a quick shower together—Hotch giving you one more orgasm—and were now laying in bed, your clean bodies tangled under his sheets.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he held you close.

It was endearing how gentle and shy he sounded, a stark contrast to what the two of you had just shared.

“Only if you promise to not move to the couch,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You turned your head to him, noticing the quiet that had settled between you both.

“What is it?” you asked, tracing absent patterns to his skin.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we can attach those strings a bit more.”

You chuckled. “Maybe,” you playfully teased, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

[issysh3ll]

Practice ☆ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Matt volunteers himself as kissing practice Warnings: bsf Matt, kissing

Silence stretches between you and Matt as you sit at opposite ends of the couch. You've already said goodbye but your ride is running late.

Your best friend seems perfectly content at his end of the sofa, phone in hand and arm spread across the back of the cushions lazily. But you are on edge.

The person picking you up isn't just a ride home.

It's a ride to a date.

A first date

Usually, that wouldn't be something that would put you on edge like this, but it's been months since you were last interested in anyone and this guy seems really interested in you.

Checking your phone again anxiously, you see no message from the date in question. With a groan, you slide down the couch to the floor.

"He's running pretty late." Matt points out, watching you slide off the couch and onto the floor.

"I know," you groan, "I'm already nervous, all this waiting is making it worse."

"Why are you nervous?" Matt asks, sliding along the couch to look at you on the floor.

Sighing, you pull yourself up into a sitting position and turn to face your friend. "I don't know, it's just been a while. And what if.."

Matt raises an eyebrow.

"...What if he tries to kiss me."

Matt responds with a shrug and a very matter of fact tone. "Then you kiss him back."

"But, like, what if I'm bad? I'm out of practice"

You've spoken to Matt about your relationships before, he's seen you kiss people at parties, but it's been months since your last kiss.

Matt motions for you to join him on the couch again and as you settle into the spot next to him he speaks up. "So then practice."

"On who?"

"On me." At his words, your eyebrows shoot up. You've never considered Matt in that way before and now here he is just offering himself up as kissing practice. He is attractive, though, not that you usually pay much attention to it. As you take in his appearance now, you remember. His blue eyes are full of sincerity, brown hair falling messily over his forehead. The grey crewneck he's wearing is loose around the neck, revealing the glint of silver from his chain necklace hiding underneath. In the brief silent pause, Matt raises a nervous hand to scratch at his neck. Even his hands are attractive. But he's your friend. Your best friend. You're not supposed to see him that way.

Your eyes flick back and forth between his, searching for any sign of a joke but you don't find one, and then he speaks again, this time his voice is low, almost pleading. "Kiss me."

The gravelly sound of his eager voice causes your chest to jump, your heat beating faster as Matt inches closer to you. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, drawing your eyes to them. And fuck, do they look tempting.

"Matt..." You whisper. A quiet warning that this might change everything, that it's not a good idea. But as his face leans closer to yours, you can't hear those warnings anymore. The sound of your racing heart drowns out the doubts. The sight of Matt's eyes fluttering closed, the feel of his breath dusting over your lips as he whispers your name in response.

It's all so tempting.

You tilt your chin upward, closing the small gap between you. Your lips brush against Matt's in a teasing sweep. The slightest touch sends sparks through you, your lips tingling. But it's not enough. After that tiny taste you need more.

Your hands rise to his face, gripping his cheeks and holding him as you smash your lips onto his again, this time with more force, more eagerness.

You want this.

And he wants it too.

As your mouth parts and your tongue glides over his lips, he lets out a breathy moan, eagerly reciprocating. Your tongues tangle in a sloppy, messy dance between your mouths. Each movement causes your chest to squeeze, yearning for more.

Always more.

You can tell that Matt is eager for more as well. His fingers curl in your hair, urging you closer. Small groans slip free from his mouth into yours each time you glide your tongue over his.

But just as you shift your hands to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss, your phone buzzes and Matt pulls away panting.

"Your date's here." He says through heavy breaths.

You grab the phone out of Matt's hands and toss it into your bag at the end of the couch. "I don't care. This isn't practice anymore."

Masterlist

[rafecameronssl4t]

F1 driver!Rafe x Reader! As someone that loves watching F1, I'm so happy you're doing this, and damn fans can be vicious sometimes so it gave me an idea. Maybe Reader is getting hate online, with jelaousy comments, saying that ''she's not pretty enough, she's so basic looking, I don't understand what he sees in her, I guess anyone has a chance with Rafe,''. And gradually the words get to her, making her really self concious when she's around him in public, girls near him that are (in her opinion) prettier and eventuallys she tries to break up with him, but he does not let her (not in a toxic way, more so because he loves her and isn't going to let anyone come between them)

Public eye || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: So sorry this took awhile!!!!!! But thank you for the request it was sm fun to write :)

Warnings: angst, mental health struggles, bullying and online harassment, if theres anything else lmk!

Word count: 2, 946

MASTERLIST (F1 driver!Rafe x fem!reader au masterlist)

Your fingers hovered hesitantly over the comment section of the video, your heart beating just a little faster as you stared at the screen. The clip, a simple moment of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, was already gathering attention. He was beside you, his hand casually draped over your shoulder as you both made your way through the crowd, looking every bit like a power couple.

You could still hear the soft hiss of the shower jets from the bathroom, Rafe taking his time to wash off the stress of the race. You should have been doing something productive, but the pull of curiosity was too strong. Lately, your presence on social media had been growing—both the praise and the hate.

You’d never been one to look at the comments, always avoiding the spotlight, but today… something felt different. You clicked on the comment section, your thumb hovering nervously over the screen as you scrolled down. The first few comments were harmless, even flattering. “You two are perfect together,” one said. “Her smile is contagious,” said another.

Your lips curved into a faint smile as you read through them, the warmth of their compliments offering a brief comfort. For a moment, you forgot about the nagging feeling building in your chest. But then the tone shifted. You could feel your stomach tighten as the first negative comment appeared. “She looks so out of place with him,” one user wrote, followed by another comment: “She doesn’t belong in paddock.”

Your fingers trembled slightly, but you tried to push the discomfort aside. It was just one comment. You kept scrolling. More criticisms followed. Someone commented on your outfit: “Why does she dress like that? She looks like she’s trying too hard.” Another user posted, “She looks so stiff next to him. Does she even smile?” A sharp sting pierced your chest, and you tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t easy.

You’d spent so much time trying to dress right, trying to look the part, but now it felt like none of it mattered. “Her resting face is so rude,” one person said. Another added, “She looks miserable. Why does she always look so cold around Rafe?” You couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop. You knew you had a more serious expression, but it hurt to see it picked apart like this, as if your face wasn’t enough.

You quickly scrolled past more hurtful comments, but the damage had already been done. The video, which had once seemed like a simple moment between you and Rafe, now felt like an invasion of your privacy, like everyone was judging you. You glanced back at the bathroom door, where the sound of Rafe still hummed softly from the shower, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in your head.

Your hands tightened around your phone, and you felt the familiar weight of insecurities settling in. You weren’t sure why this time felt worse than before. Maybe it was the fact that you were constantly being compared to Rafe’s world now, his fame, his fans, his life in the spotlight. It felt suffocating at times, and the negativity from strangers only made it worse.

You took a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together. This wasn’t about you. It was about Rafe, and his world. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t need their validation, but the ache in your chest remained. Before you could sink any deeper into the spiral of your thoughts, the bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe’s voice, still heavy with the sound of water dripping, called out to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Rafe’s voice was soft as he stepped into the room, the steam from his shower trailing behind him. His towel hung low on his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His brows furrowed slightly when his eyes landed on you, the tension in your posture giving you away. You swallowed hard, quickly flipping your phone face-down on the bed as you forced a small, unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, just… tired. It’s been a long day.” Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he were debating whether to push further. Instead, he let it slide, disappearing into the closet to grab a pair of boxers. When he returned, his tone was casual, though there was an edge of curiosity in his voice.

“Did you want to walk in with me tomorrow?” he asked, tossing the towel into the hamper before slipping on boxers. He moved with practiced ease, his body language as relaxed as ever. It was a question you’d heard countless times before, something routine between the two of you, but tonight, it felt heavier. Different. You nibbled on your bottom lip, his question tugging you back to the comments you’d just read.

She looks out of place next to him… She doesn’t belong there. The words replayed in your head like a taunting echo. You hesitated before replying, your voice quieter than usual. Your fingers toyed with the edge of the duvet as you hesitated. “Uh, I think I’ll come a bit after,” you said finally, trying to sound casual, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Rafe paused for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he considered your answer.

His brows furrowed just enough to show that he noticed the shift in your tone, but he didn’t push. Instead, he hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he climbed into bed. Once settled, he turned his attention back to you, his head propped on his hand as he studied your face. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.

You nodded quickly, your smile brighter this time, though it still didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I promise, I’m fine,” you said, hoping the words sounded convincing. But even as you said them, your mind was still swirling with doubt, the insecurities clawing at the edges of your composure. Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide for now. Instead, he reached out and tugged you gently toward him, his arms wrapping around your body in a warm, familiar embrace.

His lips brushed softly against your temple before trailing down to your shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, like an anchor. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you nestled into his chest, the comfort of his presence momentarily dulling the ache in your heart. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice almost trembling.

~

Walking into the paddock alongside Rafe’s PR manager, Mia, you couldn’t shake the weight of countless eyes on you. It felt suffocating, as though everyone’s gaze was dissecting your every move, every expression. The hum of chatter and camera shutters blended into an almost deafening background noise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying—or thinking.

Were they silently judging you? Waiting for you to stumble, to make some minor misstep they could pounce on? The thought sent a sharp pang of anxiety through your chest. It wasn’t just paranoia; you’d seen how quickly narratives could form online, how a single bad photo could spiral into accusations and labels. If you weren’t smiling enough, they’d say you were cold, ungrateful. If you stood too close to Rafe, they’d call you clingy. Too far, and you’d seem distant, uninterested.

Your grip on your paddock pass tightened, glancing briefly at Mia, who was confidently walking ahead, her phone in hand, seemingly oblivious to the tension building inside you. She had a way of carrying herself that made it seem like none of this affected her—like the noise bounced off her shield of professionalism. You envied her for that. The click of a camera somewhere to your left made your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t dare look, afraid of what expression might’ve been caught. You straightened your posture instead, forcing a faint smile that felt unnatural, plastered on for the sake of appearances. The effort felt exhausting, but it was what you’d learned to do in this world—pretend you didn’t notice, pretend it didn’t hurt. As you walked, you could feel whispers trailing in your wake, the murmurs mingling with the mechanical hum of the paddock.

Were they talking about your outfit? Your hair? The fact that you weren't walking in with Rafe? It was a never-ending game of scrutiny, and you felt like a chess piece on a board you barely understood. "Hey, are you good?" Mia's voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Her tone was light, accompanied by a small chuckle as she caught the distant look in your eyes.

You blinked rapidly, turning to her with a startled expression. “Sorry, what?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky. She chuckled again, tilting her head curiously. “Are you okay? You seem nervous,” she repeated, her eyes scanning your face as the two of you approached the Ferrari area. “Yeah! Yeah—I’m fine, just jet lagged,” you replied quickly, your tone a little too chipper to be convincing. You added a casual shrug for good measure, hoping it would sell the lie.

Mia’s gaze lingered for a moment, but she slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, if you say so. I’ve got to go organise Rafe for his interview. Will you be okay by yourself? I think Austin’s around here somewhere,” she said, glancing around the bustling paddock. “Yeah, of course, go ahead. I’ll look for him,” you assured her with a polite smile.

She nodded, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the chaos, leaving you alone amidst the buzz of mechanics, media personnel, and fans. You continued walking, your eyes darting around in search of a familiar face. The usual hum of the paddock felt louder now, almost oppressive, as you noticed more phones and cameras turning in your direction. A knot tightened in your stomach.

Normally, you could brush it off, but today the weight of their stares was unbearable. Biting your bottom lip nervously, you quickened your pace, practically darting into the safety of the Ferrari garage. The moment you stepped inside, a voice called out to you, making you pause. “Y/n!” Relief flooded your chest as you spotted Austin waving you over from the balcony of the hospitality area.

“Hey!” you greeted him warmly, embracing him in a quick hug. “Rafe should be done with his interview pretty soon,” Austin said, glancing at his watch. You hummed in response, setting your things down on the table before joining him at the railing. The two of you leaned against it, looking down at the sea of people navigating the paddock below. “Yeah, Rafe and I were planning to head back to OBX for a week after—”

Your words trailed off as your eyes froze on a group of girls huddled together, their phones unmistakably aimed in your direction. Their whispering and laughter sent a chill through you, making your shoulders stiffen visibly. Noticing your silence, Austin followed your gaze. His brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.

You swallowed hard, tearing your eyes away from the girls. “I-uh—I’ll just sit down for a bit,” you muttered, moving back toward the table. Austin watched you carefully, his confusion evident. “Do you know them?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. After a moment, he sighed, his tone shifting to something more knowing. “Have you been reading comments again?”

The question made your head snap up, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t respond, but your silence was enough. “Y/n,” he said gently, pulling out a chair across from you and sitting down. “You know those are just jealous people who wish they were in your position, right?” “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But they still hurt, Austin.”

“I know they do,” he admitted, leaning forward. “But think about it—what they’re saying about you… Is any of it true?” You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to your phone as you hesitated. “They’re not,” Austin continued firmly. “Because they don’t even know you. But we do. Rafe does. Don’t let them get to you. They’re just miserable people trying to make someone else miserable too.”

His words sunk in, easing some of the tightness in your chest. A small smile crept onto your lips, the warmth of his reassurance breaking through the cloud of doubt. “Thanks, Austin. I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice softer now but filled with genuine gratitude. He grinned back, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.

“Anytime. Now, let’s get you smiling again before Rafe gets back, or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You chuckled lightly, feeling just a little lighter as the weight of those comments began to fade, replaced by the comfort of a friend who truly understood.

~

The jets in the bathroom continued to hum, the sound blending into the background as you stared at your phone screen, your chest tightening with every cruel word you read. The image of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, so innocuous and routine, had somehow become the catalyst for a torrent of negativity.

Your throat constricted, and you bit down hard on your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. But it was too much. The weight of their words pressed on you, an avalanche of insecurities crashing down. You dropped your phone onto the bed as though it had burned you, standing there frozen for a moment, your hands trembling.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His carefree, post-shower demeanour faltered the moment his eyes landed on you. “Hey,” he said cautiously, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” You shook your head, quickly wiping at your cheeks, but the tears had already betrayed you. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone was firmer now, his blue eyes scanning your face for answers. He glanced at your phone lying facedown on the bed, and his expression hardened as he pieced it together. “Did you read the comments again?” The lump in your throat grew, and you couldn’t speak, your silence confirming his suspicion.

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Y/n, why do you let them get to you? They’re just a bunch of—” “It’s not just them, Rafe!” you snapped, cutting him off. The words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and heavy. “This is my life now—being constantly judged, criticised, compared. It’s exhausting. I can’t do this anymore.”

His brows furrowed in confusion and alarm. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I can’t be with you anymore,” you said, your voice breaking as the words left your lips. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Rafe’s face fell, his confident façade cracking in an instant. “What? No. No, that’s not happening.” “Rafe—”

“No!” He stepped closer, his voice low but desperate. “You’re not doing this because of a bunch of idiots online who don’t know anything about us.” “It’s not just them!” you cried, the dam of emotions finally breaking. “It’s everything! The constant attention, the pressure, the way people look at me like I’m not good enough for you. And maybe they’re right! Maybe I’m not!”

“Don’t you dare say that,” he interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. He reached for your hands, holding them tightly even as you tried to pull away. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough, Y/n.” “I can’t keep living like this, Rafe,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I feel like I’m losing myself.

Rafe’s grip on your hands tightened as if letting go would make your words true. “I don’t care what they say. None of it matters to me. You matter. You’re the only thing that matters.” Your lips trembled as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity there almost too much to bear. “But what if I can’t handle it?” “Then I’ll help you handle it,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he pulled you closer.

“You’re not doing this alone. I love you, Y/n. I don’t care what those people think. They mean nothing to me—nothing.” You let out a shaky breath as his words washed over you, your resolve weakening under the weight of his conviction. Rafe cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “We’ll get through it together. I promise.”

For a long moment, you just stood there, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady your breathing. The pain was still there, raw and jagged, but so was the love in his voice, in his touch. “I don’t know if I can be enough,” you whispered. “You already are,” he replied without hesitation. “You’ve always been enough for me.” And somehow, in his arms, the weight of the world felt just a little lighter.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 14

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: as always please consider leaving me a comment/reblog ok. OH AND I NEARLY FORGOT. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ALL OF THE LOVELY READERS SHO SENT ME INFORMATION ABOUT CPR/MEDIEVAL HEALTHCARE. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH YOU DONT EVEN KNOW. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones @ashton-trashton

You clutch you chest as you walk into your bedroom. You lean back onto the wooden door after closing it and slowly sink to the ground. You gasp for air as a myriad of emotions cut through you.

You stare off into space, reeling from the entire interaction. You start when you hear a knock on the door. You hear the voices of your servants. You turn to the knob, reach up for it, and slowly open it from where you sat.

"Princess?" worried voices call.

Your voice is small, "I'm here."

A servant peeps her head through the small opening and gasps when she sees you. She slinks her way in, and soon does the other one. They both help you up and fuss over you. You tell them you only need help getting dressed, nothing more.

Your servants manage to make you look like a princess after dressing you and fixing your hair. They even paint your lips and cheeks with rouge, making it as though you weren't look so ghastly.

You feel ghastly as you make your way to the maester's ward though. Dread grows with each step you take, thus why you move so sluggish. You only snap out of it when you hear someone call for you.

"AUNT!"

You come alive at the sight of Aegon running over. You find his mother smiling behind him, clutching her belly as she followed after the boy. You crouch down and reach for him.

Aegon giggles as he jumps into your arms, "AUNT!"

You kiss his temple and embrace him fondly, "sȳz ñāqes, ñuha valītsos." Good morning, my boy.

You grunt as you stand with the young prince in your arms. Alicent is soon before you, "good morn," she smiles, though it flattens when she sees your eyes, "sister..."

You shake your head, "it's Daemon."

The queen clenches her jaw.

Aegon finds interest in the jewel on your neck. He takes it in his hand and tries to eat it. You turn to him and shush him, moving his hand away.

"What did he do to you?" your sister asks.

"Not to me," you turn to her, "to my wards."

Alicent knits her brows.

"They..." you sigh. The image of Daemon's bloody face haunts you, "they brawled outside my bedroom."

"What?" she pulls her head back.

"His face was bloody..." your voice shakes, "and... he said things to me-"

"Aunt, cake!" Aegon announces, grabbing your cheeks.

Alicent turns to her son, pushing his hands off you, "darling, mummy said you'll get cake later."

Aegon whines, "cake!"

You turn to Aegon, shushing him momentarily before turning back to Alicent, "I slapped him."

Your sister freezes, a line forming between her brows. She takes a moment before replying, "you slapped Daemon?"

You simply stare at her as Aegon throws his head back and whines, "CAKEEEEE!"

You watch as the boy begins to squirm whilst crying out for cake. You try to calm him, but eventually, Alicent takes him from you. She manages to calm the boy by offering to play with him instead. Aegon scratches his teary eyes, turning to you. He points.

You stroke his head, "I'll play with you later."

He whines, "NOOOOO!"

"My love," Alicent whispers against his cheek, "aunt has to go-"

"NOOO!"

"I just have to go get cake for you, Aegon," you shush him, "you want cake, right?"

Aegon pouts as tears stream down his face.

"Why don't you go play with mummy and aunt will get cake for us?"

Alicent kisses Aegon's tears away and he nods. The boy sighs, "no long."

You nod in understanding, "no, sweetheart. I will not take long."

With that, you leave your nephew and sister, continuing your walk to the maester's ward. When you arrive, your stomach drops as the arguing you hear coming from inside.

When you open the door, the room goes silent. You immediately lock eyes with Daemon who was standing next to your maester.

"Oh, thank the gods," the old man says.

You walk in with knit brows, "what is happening?"

"The prince refuses that I tend to his wounds," the maester says, handing you an iron tray that had both a damp and dry cloth, "he insists only on receiving care for you, my princess."

Of course. You stare at the tray, recalling years ago when he did the same after his tourney, the wordlessly take it. You examine the room, quickly finding your wards sitting on cots.

They stand to attention when you turn to them and nod, "princess."

Daemon feels his hand tremble as you walk towards them.

"Are you two well?"

The twins examine your demeanor before nodding slowly, "yes."

"Have you any injuries?"

"No."

"Good," you nod, "you may leave."

Their eyes widen.

You walk towards Daemon grabbing his arm, "sit."

"Princess?" Erryk asks, "do you mean-"

"Both," you spare them a glance, "both of you may retire."

Daemon turns to them, slowly sitting on the cot.

You turn, "I beg your pardon, maester, but would you do me a favor?"

Erryk is silenced. Arryk feels dread in his stomach as he nods, "we shall away then, my princess."

"How might I serve, princess?" the maester asks.

Daemon watches the twins walk out, awfully pleased with himself, until he feels his head begin to throb.

"Would you please go to the kitchen and request cake be delivered to Aegon?"

The maester is taken aback by the request but otherwise nods, "of course."

"Thank you," you nod, watching him leave.

Daemon does the same.

The moment it's just you and him, he turns to you, finding your eyes are already on him. He clenches his jaw, regretting it when it makes the pain in his nose flare.

Your sigh, walking towards him. You start when he touches your hip.

His lips part as consequences, "I-"

"Don't speak," you take the damp towel and hand him the tray, "I do not wish to speak to you as I tend to your wounds."

Daemon withdraws the hand he had on your hip in lieu of taking the tray. The metal thing felt blistering and heavy. He lowers his head.

"Don't move," you snap, grabbing his chin. When he lifts his head, you quickly retreat your hand, realizing you were about to force his gaze up which would have hurt him. You didn't want to hurt him, regardless of how he made you feel.

Daemon does not think this is why you pull away; he thinks the look of him disgusted you, especially in this state. His grip on the tray tightens.

You could tell his nose was broken from how his eyes were swollen. Many an occasion has this happened to Gwayne. You sigh and shake your head, "you should have let the maester see to your nose at least."

It was strange that now that you were before him, he could barely feel the pain on his face, not because it was gone but because felt it every where, most especially in his chest.

"It's broken," you mutter, placing a hand on his cheek.

Daemon leans back to allow you more access to his face. He so badly wanted to lean into your touch, but he was afraid you'd pull away again. Instead, he closes his eyes, "is it crooked?"

You examine his nose, "no," you trace his bridge with your thumb.

His breath hitches and his skin pricks with goosebumps.

"But a vein must have ruptured from the hit," you say as you wipe the blood off him.

Daemon involuntarily winces.

You immediately pull back, "I-"

He opens his eyes and snatches your hand.

You stare at each other for a long moment.

He brings your hand to his cheek, "think nothing of it," his eyes are watery. His thumb rubs your skin, "do not pull away."

When he releases you, you finish off wiping the red off his skin until all that was left on his face were purple bruises and split skin. You comb his hair back with your fingers and it makes his brows furrow. You sigh, take the tray from him, and set it aside, "I did not mean for that to hurt."

"It didn't," he mutters, watching you go through the objects on the maester's table. You take the ointment and turn back to him. He adds, "I liked it."

You grit your teeth and swipe a dollop of salve on your finger.

Daemon notices your reaction, "are you angry with m-"

"I told you not to speak," you snap for the second time.

His lips part, but only a sigh comes out.

You inhale sharply.

He can feel your hand tremble as you rub the ointment on his wounds. It hurts, not because of the pressure you apply on his skin, but because he knows your anger is the cause of your tremors.

You look him once over after tending to his cuts then examine his body, "anywhere else you're injured, prince?"

"Daor," he mutters, shaking his head, "sepār ñuha prūmia." No, just my heart.

You chuckle dryly at his words, quickly turning away from him to shake your head in disbelief.

Daemon swallows a lump that forms in his throat, "kostilus." Please.

You turn to him, scratching your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of him. "Skoros yno?" What of mine?

His eyes follow you as you sit down next to him. He shifts in his spot to face you.

You grip the cot, "gaomagon ao pendagon ñuha prūmia ēza daor ōdrio." You take a deep breath before turning to him. Do you think my heart has no wound?

He sees the tears build in your eyes. He reaches out to wipe it, but you recoil and do it off yourself. He curls his hand into a fist and rests it on his lap. He whispers your name and licks his lips, "it was not my intention."

"Then what was your intention then?" you quip, eyes refusing to leave his though it blurred with tears, "if not to sear holes into my heart?"

What was his intention? What was his intention? Why was it that he found your letters so gut-curling and unseemly? Why was the thought of reading your words while he was seas apart so sickening? He opens his mouth, "I do not know."

You are stunned by his response. It makes you stiffen in your spot. Your stomach sours and your breath hitches, "... you do not even know why you resent me so?"

"I do not resent you," he raises his voice slightly, "but I did bare resentment." He shakes his head, "perhaps for my brother, for your brother, for your father."

You scratch your eyes again. You sigh and nod, "I see."

Daemon's hands flinch.

"So," you knit your brows, "you cast your resentment onto me because..."

His throat tightens though his jaw slacks, "why do you insist upon this?"

"What do you mean?!" you raise.

"You insist to misunderstand me."

"I insist the opposite, you fool!" you snap, coming to a stand, "every day I wrote to you, even after I knew for certain you would not!"

The balm on Daemon's face is washed with the salt from his eyes, "I've read them."

You tense but then you shake your head, "liar."

The word makes him whimper, "last night. I read them all. I read about how you ate cake, and went to the sea, and wrote to Laenor, and-"

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" you blurt, feeling your breath grow short, "those letters were not meant to be read that way."

"But, I know your heart now," he slowly stands.

You laugh, "know my heart!"

"Or the parts you opened up to me," he reaches a hand. He sniffles; it feels like a blade up the nostrils. "If it pleases you, I would write a thousand letters in return."

You scoff, taking a step back, "you would survive three years of silence from me?"

The thought shatters him.

You watch as red drips from his nose to his lips. You do nothing but wait for his response.

He shakes his head, "I would not."

You shake your head and grab the dry towel for him. He takes it and feels his stomach drop when you begin to pace around. The closer you get to the door, the more uneasy he feels. He cannot help himself, "kostilus gaomagon daor henujagon nyke." Please do not leave me.

The thought makes you laugh, so you do. You turn to him, nearly moved to spit at his face. He so brazenly requests such a thing from you when he paid you no heed when you requested the same from him. You do not act beneath yourself though, "iksan daor tetan lēda ao." I am not finished with you.

He does not like the tone with which you speak this, and yet he says, "iksan biare." I am glad.

"Why did you ambush my wards?"

Daemon tenses.

"How did you come into my chambers if they were keeping watch outside?"

He wipes the blood off his lips, "there are secret passages to nearly every room in the castle."

You shrug and cross your arms, "did you attack them because it would be too easy to attack me?"

He pulls his head back, "do not vilify me," he shake his head, "do not presume I would ever atta-"

"YOU ARE MY VILLAIN!" your splintered resolve finally breaks. You unleash your rage by the hurtling your heel at him. Your right shoe misses Daemon by a hair, but your left shoe hits him in the shoulder when he turns to dodge your assault.

You charge at him with a guttural screech, fully intent on battering his body, but he does not let you. He grabs your wrists and easily overpowers you, calling your name out.

Daemon traps you in his arms and in return, you begin kicking him. He yelps when you kick his shin, but does not release you. He shudders as he tightens his arms around you, "kostilus, kostilus keligon. Gīda ilagon, ik—" please, please stop. Calm down, I—

"LET ME GO!" you shriek, exerting all of your strength into elbowing him.

You can't though, his hold on you was too strong. And though he hated that this was how he got to hold you, he could not help the way his face leaned into your nape to breathe in your scent. He weeps against you, begging you to calm down.

And you do, not because you want to, but because you could no longer breathe.

Daemon feels it, the exact moment you tense just to go limp. His hold on you loosens in an instant. It was a mistake because of how you flop forward. His heart leaps into his mouth as he feels your body spasm and gasp for air.

He lays you down on the cot and his eyes go wide at the sight of the veins popping out of your neck. He immediately rubs your chest and frantically calls out your name.

You looked like you were choking. A drowned man in the Stepstones immediately comes to mind.

He takes your jaw and breathes air into your mouth. A string of snot mixed with blood is drawn out between you as he pulls away to examine your face.

He had only seen it once. One of the men from the fleet was found washed up shore. When he was dragged out, they fully intended to bury him, until an Iron Born came forward.

Daemon presses his hands atop your ribs and begins to pump your chest. He does this a few times before pinching your nostrils and breathing into your mouth again. He remembered what the Iron Born called it: the kiss of life. He brings to mind the explanation the Iron Born gave when he had asked how he did it.

And as he did it on you, he could only pray that he remembered it right.

The prince could barely see from how his tears blurred his vision. It looked like you were going grey and whatever he was doing wasn't working. His voice shakes as he blurts, "kostilus, gaomagon daor henujagon nyke!" please, do not leave me.

You eyelids begin to close.

"KOSTILUS," he pumps your chest again, "vestā īlē daor tetan lēda nyke!" He shudders as he wills you to come back to consciousness. PLEASE, you said you were not finished with me!

You feel your lungs deflate. You can't seem to feel anything else.

Daemon grabs your cheeks and breathes into your mouth again, and again, and again. He presses his head to your chest and listens closely to your heart beat. Tears rush down to your skin as he screws his eyes shut. He can't hear anything. He can't hear anything.

He scoops you into you his chest and sobs into you. He mutters your name repeatedly. He cannot seem to do anything else but weep.

He takes your hand, cold and clammy, and squeezes it as he brings it to his mouth to kiss it, "please, please, please, don't leave me."

He sniffles and straightens up. Help. He should call for help. "MAESTER! MAESTER!" He comes to a stand, but his knees are weak and he crumples down to the floor.

A few moments later, a maester from one of the inner offices emerges. Seeing the distraught prince with a bloody nose, he is taken aback, "my prince-"

"HELP HER!" he howls from the floor. He tries to come to a stand, but even his arm gives in and he slips down to the floor. He resigns to his misery and lays on his back, "HELP MY WIFE!"

The maester runs to you, nearly tripping on the legs of the prince.

As Daemon groans helplessly, the maester that had gone to have cake delivered to young prince Aegon arrives. He runs up to the prince, "my prince, what has-"

"My wife is dead, isn't she?" Daemon mumbles through a sob.

The maester stiffens and turns to the other maester with wide eyes, "what has-"

"Her heartbeat is weak," the other maester blurts, "she succumbed to her affliction, no doubt."

The old man walks over Daemon and comes to your side. The one who had inspected you turns to the prince, "rise, your grace. She is not overcome. Her heart persists even in weakness."

Daemon lifts his head and scrambles to his knees. He calls your name, lips wobbling, cheeks wet with sorrow, a red streak trickled down from his nose.

"However," the same maester says as he gives way to Daemon, "I fear there is nothing else we can do but pray her heart keeps persisting." He offers the prince a towel.

He sniffles, opting to wipe his face on his sleeve. He shakes his head, "she will persist. She is not finished with me."

The maesters look at each other. One says, "we shall give you your privacy, Prince Daemon. I shall have the sept pray for her health and strength."

Daemon kneels beside your cot, squeezing one of your hands, "a blanket, maester. She is cold."

"Of course," he offers him the blanket neatly folded on the other cot.

The two maesters leave after Daemon cloaks you with a blanket. He tucks you in and brushes your brown hair away from your face. He sniffles as he looks upon you. Another bout of sobs arrest him.

He rests his head upon your lap, unwanting to put pressure upon your chest or belly. He embraces you as he despairs. His voice his broken as he says your name. He dries his tears on the blanket before coming to a stand.

He finds the maesters, all huddled up and muttering to each other in the office room.

"My prince," one says, walking over, "what is—"

"Is th-ere truly nothing to be done?" his voice cracks, low and pained.

They look at each other for a moment. One replies, "forgive us, your grace, but no."

Daemon makes a pained noise as he sniffles.

The maesters all look upon the troubled prince with pity.

"Right," he wipes his face on his sleeve, "I will bring her to our chambers then, that I may share in her embrace. Perhaps my heat and desperation with strengthen her body."

They nod as Daemon walks off.

The prince gathers you in his arms. You feel lighter than he remembers. He gazes upon your face, thinking of the day he had carried you home from the temple. He remembers your terrible prayer and gulps, "the gods do not grant such cruel things."

He walks down the halls that presently felt haunted. He can barely feel your breathing on his neck. He prays it is because has been thickened from the burns he suffered in the Stepstones.

He stops in his tracks when he sees Alicent with her son lingering in one of the halls. He and her stare at each other heatedly for a good moment. He continues walking.

Alicent turns to Aegon, "my darling, we should go inside."

"No!" Aegon whines, "AUNT!"

Daemon's chest tightens.

Alicent distracts him as Daemon comes closer, "later, my love we will-"

The distraction does not work. Aegon spots you and recognizes you too easily, "AUNT!"

Alicent tries to hold him back, but she can only do so much in her pregnant state.

Daemon stops in his tracks once more as the young boy runs up to him. Aegon, with his tiny hands and big violet eyes, reaches out for you.

Alicent runs over, "Aegon, no!" She pulls him away.

Aegon whines but stops when Daemon says, "issa ēdrure, valītsos." She is sleeping, boy.

Alicent clenches her teeth. Aegon furrows his brows, "ēdrure?" Sleep?

"Kessa," Daemon mutters, "issa olvie ēdrugī." Yes. She is very tired.

Aegon pouts, "cake!"

"Tolī. Ziry teptan ao iā kivio, gōntan ziry daor?" Later. She gave you a promise, did she not?

Aegon blinks at him and points, "sad."

Daemon tenses.

"Mundagon sodjisto ēdrugon." Sad aunt sleeps.

Daemon adjusts you in his arms as he looks off. He hastens in his way back to your shared chambers.

Alicent watches the man walk away with her sister in his arms. A shiver runs down her spine as she begins to think the worst.

Daemon changes you out of your dress and undoes your hair. He tucks you in bed before changing himself. He lights a single candle by the bedside table before lying beside you.

He nuzzles into your neck and throws his leg over yours. He rubs your bare sternum, glad to be able to feel the thumping of your heart.

His stream of tears do not seem to cease. He can now feel every fibre of pain on his face and body. He aches and aches; He aches mostly for you.

He thinks back to your last conversation. He recalls the explanation he owes you, "I did it because you spoke their names in your sleep."

You sigh heavily.

Daemon lifts his head up, hoping you would wake. You do not.

He sighs, wiping his face on his dress shirt and clarifies, "Arryk and Erryk."

He looks upon your form. Your face shines under candlelight. He longs to see it under the light of the sun and moon.

"I cannot bare to know you dream of them," he mutters, propping himself up on one arm, "you moaned their name."

Your arms are already warm but Daemon rubs them still.

"Gods know how I surely moaned your name in my sleep," he sighs, "... as I fucked other women."

You remain unmoving.

"Did they sate you, I wonder?" his throat tightens. He feels a hot tear run down his nose, "... did you moan my name when they fucked you?"

Jealously, anger, and hurt force more tears out of him. He rests his head on your chest, awfully defeated. He clutches the fabric of your nightgown as he laments with his eyes screwed shut.

"Do you dream of me?"

Warmth spreads across his cheek. He feels his snot begin to drip. He moves to wipe his nose, but feels something in the way.

You fool.

His eyes open. His lips part when he realizes your hand is on his cheek. He lifts his head, placing his hand atop yours.

"D—mon."

His breath trembles. He squeezes your hand, "I'm here." He kisses your palm.

Your eyes slowly open.

Daemon's heart skips. He laughs but quickly breaks into a sob.

You can barely see his face in the darkness, but you can feel the way his head shook as he wept. You brush your tears with your thumb and repeat the words Daemon thought he imagined you say, "you fool."

He shudders as he watches you knit your brows.

"I dream only one dream," you whisper. You grunt as you feel your head pound, "and it is neither of my wards or you."

He shifts slightly to better see you, careful to keep your hand on his face. He asks, soft and careful, "what do you dream of?"

He tenses when you pull away. He is about to beg for forgiveness for even asking, but then he realizes you merely wished to sit up. He helps you lean back on the headboard and sits beside you, hands fidgeting with the blanket, for he did not know if you wanted to hold his hand.

You don't. Your hands go to his beaten face. You sigh, "our children."

Daemon's expression slips.

"Alaeric and Alyrie," you add, gently rubbing his cheeks, "it was not Arryk nor Erryk's name I muttered, but theirs."

His hands come atop yours again. His eyes are red with tears.

"They-" your lips tremble, "-they were a moon too early."

The sound of your name spilling from his lips is horrible.

You lower your gaze and slowly pull away from him. You clutch your chest when you feel it begin to tighten. You take your time to draw in deep breaths to calm yourself.

Daemon brushes your hair back and rubs your arms.

You whine when he touches you. You pull away, "please, don't."

It is worse than a kick to the teeth how you move back. He is frantic when you look as though you wanted to leave bed. He calls out your name and immediately begins to apologize, "please. Forgive me. I will not tou-"

"I need to go for a walk," you mutter as you come to a stand.

Daemon immediately springs into action, taking your arm, helping you keep yourself upright. You grip his bicep and point to the chair, "my robe."

He immediately takes your robe and helps you put it on. He proceeds to help you slip your shoes on and you whine at the tightening of your chest. Daemon is frantic, "what is it? What is happening? What do you need?"

You shake your head and sigh, "a walk... just a walk."

Neither of you speak as you walk outside of your room. You saunter down the now dark halls holding Daemon's bicep. His gaze barely leaves you. He is focused only on your conditions.

You feel exhausted, and you turn to the prince, figuring he probably felt the same way, "it's not much farther."

He shakes his head, "where you go, I will follow."

You see the worry on his face. You do not have it in you to try and comfort him. You turn away and rub your chest.

Soon, you arrive to your destination. The gardens are lit up by the light of the stars and the moon. You move past the thick rose bushes and find the fountain that rest behind them.

Daemon is surprised by its existence.

You take notice, "my father had it commissioned for me."

He gasps when you release him and chases after your hand.

You watch as he squeezes you and shake your head, "I will just walk around the fountain, Daemon."

He turns to the said fountain, watching leaves and blossoms flow with the trickling water. He nods, "then so shall I."

Daemon secures your hand on his bicep. You do not argue, "very well."

The two of you walk around the large, rounded stone. Daemon is one again focused only on you. On the other hand, you are solely focused on loosening the tightness in your lungs.

"Will you tell me more about them?"

Them? You didn't not want to talk about them, lest you faint. You reach for a rose bud that fell into the water and fish it out. You take a moment to decide on your answer and end up shaking your head, "another time."

Daemon is disheartened by your response for he did not know if you did not want to speak of your children because of how greatly it hurt or because you simply did not want to speak to him. Still, he nods, "of course."

It does not take long for you to completely circle around the fountain. You look at the flower in your hand, "you do not have to trace all my steps."

"I do."

You turn to him.

His breath hitches.

"Why?"

He momentarily looks at the flower in your hand, "I do not want you to go where I cannot follow."

You stop in your tracks; so does he.

He stares at you, hoping you had something to say.

You don't. You continue walking.

[jjkamochoso]

JJK Men When They Get Jealous

Angst, fluff

Request from Wattpad

JJK Men x gn!reader

Warnings: slight cussing

A/N: some scenarios you're already dating, others you aren't!

Yuji:

“2 for Human Earthworm please!”

Yuji’s voice rang out as he bought tickets for your movie date. Your eyes gazed at his friendly face, standing close enough to his side to smell his cologne but not too close to impede his ability to pull out his wallet. Were you excited to see this movie for the umpteenth time? Not really, but it was a special anniversary release and Yuji was so pumped to watch it on the big screen again and you weren't going to ruin his fun. Besides, you couldn't say no to his adorable pouty face.

"Yuji! They have the special popcorn buckets here!" you exclaimed, catching a glimpse of the snack bar's offerings from your spot at the ticket counter. His eyes widened in shock.

"No way! They aren't sold out yet?" he asked incredulously. You moved from your place next to him and began speed walking over to the snack bar; there was no way he could miss out on this rare opportunity. Thankfully you had gotten in line when you did because there were hoards of people now queuing behind you, all eager to get their hands on the limited merchandise. When it was finally your turn, you were greeted by the worker, a boy who looked to be your age.

"Hello! What can I get for you today?"

"One earthworm bucket, please," you requested. He nodded, digging behind the counter. After what seemed like much too long, the employee finally procured what you were after.

"You're in luck! This is the last one," he said, handing it to you and giving you a smile. "Do you think I could be lucky enough to go on a date with you sometime?"

Surprised at his boldness, you let out a chuckle. "I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."

"Your... oh."

You felt an arm land on your shoulders and knew it was Yuji.

"Awesome! You got the bucket!" he exclaimed to you, a huge grin on his face. "You're the best girlfriend ever!" He then turned to the worker who busied himself with getting your popcorn. "I think I'm the lucky one here."

You internally laughed at Yuji's jealousy shining through. It was rare for him to feel that way, but when he did, he immediately made it clear to everyone that you two were happily exclusive.

When you eventually got to your seats in the theater, Yuji's arm never leaving you, you leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss. "You're cute when you're jealous."

"Me? Jealous? I wasn't..." He stopped when he noticed you eyeing him. "You're right. I'm sorry, that was dumb of me."

"No it wasn't. But there's no need to worry, you're the only guy I would ever willingly sit through the same movie a million and one times for."

Now it was Yuji's turn to give your cheek a kiss. "Like I said before, I'm the lucky one to be able to call you mine."

Megumi:

Your headphones were blaring your favorite song, drowning out the noise of the world around you. You were waiting for your boyfriend, Megumi, to meet you so you could explore Tokyo together. Swaying your head to the beat of the music, you didn’t register anyone standing near you until you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“It’s about time you got here,” you joked, taking your headphones off and turning to greet a familiar face. You weren’t expecting to see a stranger behind you and you slightly jumped from the shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the boy apologized, smiling gently. “I just wanted to ask you for some directions.”

“Oh, of course. I’m happy to help,” you responded.

“Great! I’m trying to get to this shrine.” The boy pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the screen displaying where he was trying to go. “Are you familiar with it?”

“Actually, yes. So what you want to do is go down this street…”

You told him the directions and typed it in his phone for him just in case he didn’t catch everything you said.

“I hope that helped,” you said, giving him his phone back. He glanced down and you could tell he gave the directions a once over.

“Everything alright?” you asked, seeing as he was hesitant to leave your side.

“I was hoping you had written your phone number in the notes too,” he told you. “I think you’re really cute.”

“Oh! I’m flattered, really, but I actually have a boyfriend.”

The boy was about to respond but all of a sudden his entire vibe changed; he was calm just a few moments earlier which was now replaced with nervousness.

“Right, right! Yeah, that makes sense. Um, thanks for the directions. I’m just gonna…”

The boy practically ran off, leaving you extremely confused. It wasn’t until you felt a menacing aura surround you that you realized the reason for the boy’s abrupt departure.

“That dumbass can’t find a shrine that’s not even a mile away and he wastes his time flirting?” grumbled Megumi, obviously irritated at your previous interaction.

“Jealous Fushiguro has made an appearance,” you teased, earning a glare from your dark haired boyfriend.

“I’m not jealous of a guy like that,” he argued, his defensive body language telling a whole other story from his words. You just shook your head and gave Megumi a quick kiss on his cheek.

“You’re the only one I could ever want. I promise.”

Megumi’s cheeks blossomed pink as he turned his focus away from you, looking into the distance.

“I know,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his. Now he was determined to make this the best date you’d ever been on—so much so that you wouldn’t remember giving that guy directions in the first place.

Yuta:

You and your friend Yuta decided to go ice skating together, wanting to have some stereotypical winter fun at the local rink. You two were deep in conversation until someone else’s voice and a tug at your scarf pulled you back into paying attention to your surroundings.

“I like your scarf,” a boy around your age said, smiling widely at you. “It’s almost as cute as you are.”

“Thank you,” you replied, a bit flustered, “that’s very kind of you.”

He chuckled and skated away, leaving you and Yuta alone again.

“Sorry about that, Yuta, what were you saying?”

He dove right back into where he left off, but his vibe was slightly off; he seemed upset for some reason. You didn’t mention it, figuring he might just be cold or something.

The boy who flirted with you kept skating by the entire session, shooting you winks or smiling at you. You didn’t notice Yuta glaring daggers at him from beside you.

Your time on the ice was about to expire so you and Yuta made one last circle, laughing at a joke you had made. You didn’t notice a dip in the ice and you stumbled backward. You hit the ground with a thud, slightly dazed from your fall.

“Are you alright?” Yuta asked, concern evident in his voice as he turned around to help you up. Unfortunately for him, the other boy was skating right behind you and was about to offer you his hand.

“Do you need-”

“Y/n! Let me help you up,” Yuta said, out of breath from skating as fast as he possibly could over to your position, grabbing onto your arm and hoisting you off the ice before the boy could even finish his sentence. He kept a protective grip on your body, scowling at the boy, until you were out of your skates and back into your normal shoes. Afterwards, you and Yuta walked to a local cafe for a much needed warm drink.

“Did you know that guy from somewhere? You didn’t seem to like him,” you observed.

“I don’t. He just… seemed like a jerk, that’s all,” he responded quickly, his voice higher than usual.

“Were you jealous?” you asked suddenly. Yuta’s face was now bright red and you didn’t think it was because of the cold.

“Me? I, uh… maybe?” he answered, unsure of the right thing to say. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate.

“Well, you see, I…” Yuta sighed, defeated. “I really like you and I hated watching him flirt with you so brazenly. I know it was wrong of me to be so rude but I couldn’t stand the thought of you with him. I’m sorry.”

He kicked at a few rocks at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact with you.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Yuta,” you answered softly, catching his attention, “I really like you too.”

His eyes went wide. “You do?”

You nodded in affirmation as he let out a breath of relief, his shy smile shining brighter than the reflection of the sun on ice.

Inumaki:

It was a warm spring day and you were in the school’s garden, basking in the sun. You opened an eye to see who it was disturbing your peace with their footsteps, but it was Inumaki; you smiled kindly at him and made room for him on the bench. You two loved to sit together, often in silence, and observe the beauty of nature.

“Kelp,” he greeted softly, a small wave sent your way as he sat next to you.

“It’s always nice to see you, Toge,” you said back, closing your eyes once more as you breathed in the scent of flowers.

Like usual, his presence was a comfort to you and you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment, wanting nothing more than to rest your head on his shoulder in a display of your affection for him. Before you could let that happen, though, you heard another pair of footsteps approach and you quickly brought yourself out of your daydream.

“Hey Inumaki! Y/n!” Yuta called out, joining you in the garden.

“Yuta! Hello!” you greeted back while Inumaki waved at him.

“I can’t stay too long because I have to study but I brought something for you, y/n,” he said, smiling sweetly as he procured a tiny bag from his pocket, handing it to you. “They’re seeds. The owner of a shop I was at today was giving them out and supposedly the flowers are your favorite color so I figured you could plant them somewhere here in the garden.”

“Yuta! Oh my gosh, thank you!” you replied, giving him a hug in your excitement.

“It’s really nothing,” he said, a tiny blush appearing on his cheeks. “Well, I have to go, but I hope to see you both soon!”

You both bid him goodbye as you pocketed the seeds, eager to get the okay from the school to plant the flowers. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him but Inumkai seemed to have some sort of inner turmoil brewing after the short meeting; you could sense the hurt emanating from him.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered, curious as to what brought those feelings on all of a sudden.

“Cheesy,” was all he said, turning away from you.

“Aww, is someone jealous?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Bonito flakes,” Toge quickly grumbled, not meeting your gaze.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know,” you teased, pushing against his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be. Yuta’s not the one I have feelings for. You are, remember? Or do I have to confess all over again?”

You leaned over and tugged his collar down the slightest bit, planting a kiss on his cheek. Inumkai’s gaze landed on you once more as he gripped one of your hands tightly and typed on his phone with his other hand, saying:

I’m sorry, that was super lame of me. Yuta’s cool and that was nice of him to bring those for you. But TRUST it will be ME helping you plant those flowers.

And I’ll pick one to bring to you every morning when they’ve bloomed🙂‍↕️😌

“You really are my dream man,” you said, resting your head in his lap as you finally fell asleep in the comfort of the sun and Toge.

Noritoshi:

It was lunchtime at the Kyoto school and you found yourself in the shared kitchen with your classmate Noritoshi.

“Whatcha making?” you wondered, peering over his shoulder.

“Ramen,” came his answer, short and to the point as always. You watched him closely, taking in his every move.

“Do you not know how to cook and that’s why you’re staring me down?” he asked with a slightly annoyed expression.

“I do know how to cook, thank you very much. You’re just interesting to observe.”

Before he could ask what you meant by that, Todo came waltzing in.

“Todo! Just the person I wanted to see,” you greeted. “Do you want to make lunch with me?”

He heartily agreed and you two got to work, pulling out various pots and pans as Noritoshi finished making his own dish and sat down to eat. You and Todo were having the time of your lives, joking around and laughing while creating your meal. Noritoshi, on the other hand, was trying his best not to frown any more than he did on a usual day.

Or puke.

Noritoshi watched the way you lit up with Todo, having the time of your life doing something so mundane, and he desperately wished he wasn’t unnecessarily cold to you minutes earlier.

When your lunch was finally cooked, Todo took his food outside while you stayed in with Noritoshi, taking up the spot next to him. Normally he made some sort of remark about how loud or dirty you were in the kitchen, but today he was quiet.

“You seem bothered by something. Did I upset you?” you asked. His hair made a swishing noise as he turned to you.

“Why would you have upset me?”

“I don’t know. I always seem to, anyway,” you said with a tiny chuckle, taking a bite of your food.

“Not today, you didn’t. I’m dealing with something personal.”

“You can tell me if you want. I’m a person, you know.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your playful demeanor. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because it’s about you, okay?”

His eyes grew wide when he realized he admitted that out loud. You chewed quietly, hoping he would continue.

“The way you and Todo effortlessly get along, I don’t understand it. I’m envious of your relationship with him. Sometimes I wish…” He stopped for a second. “All of the time I wish that was you and me. I want to be the one that makes your eyes light up like that.”

“Noritoshi, I never knew you felt that way,” you responded after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah, that was sort of my goal,” he replied, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I’ve actually had a crush on you for a long time,” you said bashfully, surprising him further. “Would you maybe wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“If you still have feelings for me after my lame confession,” a small smile appearing on his lips, “then I’d be even more of a fool to turn you down.”

Todo:

Standing in line to meet your favorite idol, you and Aoi were brimming with excited energy. You loved that you could bond with your boyfriend over your mutual love for Takada, including doing all of the super fan activities like waiting in line for hours on end. You turned around to look at the buildings behind you, wanting a view different from the one you’d been staring at since early that morning.

“Woah, seeing your face for the first time was like a breath of the finest spring air. You’re stunning,” said the man directly behind you in line. You couldn’t believe he was hitting on you with your six-foot-something, muscly beast of a boyfriend standing next to you, but you took the comment in stride—it didn’t hurt to be complimented by others every once in awhile! Todo never cared either, nor were you bothered by the looks of admiration he received from men and women alike while you two strolled any given street.

“You’re very kind, thank you,” you responded. He asked what your favorite song of Takada’s was, and from there you two engaged in small talk. He was super nice and very interesting, telling you facts about the various buildings in the downtown area you were at, along with lesser known Takada trivia.

“Next time Takada is in town,” he started, “we should go to the event together. If I could get your number-”

All of a sudden, Aoi turned around and cracked his knuckles, an intimidating look present on his face.

“You better back off or I’ll make sure all your teeth are missing in your meet and greet photo with Takada-chan,” he told the man, who let out a scared squeal, gulping and nodding. Aoi put a protective arm around your shoulder as he spun you forward once more.

“I never thought I’d see the day of you being jealous,” you teased, leaning your head against him.

“Me neither, but I guess that’s the only con of having such an attractive partner,” he replied, a determined expression on his face. “No one can get between my love for you and Takada-chan.”

Ino:

You were standing in line at a cafe with Ino, eager to get your hands on a warm drink to ease the bite of the winter chill. Snuggling up to the man next to you, you leaned your head against his shoulder while waiting in the impossibly long line. Ino gave your forehead a chaste kiss but pulled away in an instant.

“Babe! Your skin is freezing!” he all but yelled.

“You’re being dramatic,” you said with an eye roll. Without a second thought, he reached for your hands and, upon feeling the cold skin there as well, let go immediately.

“Your hands are freezing, too! Lemme buy you some gloves.”

“Ino, that’s really not necessary, I’m fine-”

“Be right back! Order for me, would ya?” he called out, leaving you shaking your head in amusement. That man would steal the sun for you if he thought you needed the extra light to read.

As you predicted, the line was at a standstill for quite awhile. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited for either Ino to come back and entertain you or for you to finally occupy your cold mouth with a hot drink. After many minutes of boredom, the line started moving and it was your turn to order. You told the employee the two drinks you wanted and paid, thanking him.

“What’s the name for the drinks?” he asked, eyeing you in a manner you found a bit suspicious.

“Y/n.”

“I’ll let you know when those are ready, y/n,” he answered, putting an uncomfortable emphasis on your name.

“…Yeah. Thanks,” you said apprehensively.

As you waited for the drinks to be made, you anxiously glanced around but there was no sign of Ino. Maybe gloves weren’t easy to find around this neighborhood?

After what felt like another eternity, your name was called and you approached the drink counter. The employee handed you the drinks and you tried to ignore the glaringly obvious phone number.

“Call me sometime, yeah?” he suggested, a smirk resting on his lips.

You glanced at the cup with his phone number scrawled on it, raising your eyebrows. “Thanks so much for that. Since this is his drink, I’ll let my boyfriend know you’re interested in him.”

“Oh-that’s not-I didn’t-” the employee floundered with embarrassment as you left with a laugh, taking your drinks to Ino who must have made his way back into the cafe sometime during the whole ordeal.

“Here’s a pair of gloves,” Ino greeted you, his smile not at all reaching his eyes like it normally does. You thanked him profusely as you set his drink in front of him and put on the gloves, relishing in the warmth they brought you.

“What’s wrong? You seem sad. Did something happen while you were out?” you questioned, worried for him.

“No, no. It’s nothing. I’m being dumb.”

You furrowed your brows and took a sip of your drink. “No way it’s nothing. I can tell something’s bothering you. I wanna help.”

“Well, I…” Ino stopped and took in a deep breath. “You were laughing with that employee and I see that he gave you his phone number and now I’m feeling a type of way about it.”

Ino looked away, almost ashamed as he sipped from his drink as well. You quickly reached for his unoccupied hand.

“Oh, Ino, you have it all wrong. I was laughing at him for putting his number on your drink. I certainly wasn’t interested in him and you have nothing to be jealous over.” You gave his hand a squeeze as his big eyes looked into yours. “You’re the only man I could ever want. You’re the one who treats me like royalty. Who else would brave the cold like you did to buy me a pair of gloves when I have too many pairs that I left at home?”

“Probably not that guy,” Ino mumbled, his cheeks pink.

“Definitely not that guy,” you said with a smile, bringing his hand to your lips and giving it a kiss. “Now, enjoy your drink. I had to brave his idiocracy to get it to you.”

Gojo:

You didn’t know what kind of gods were listening to you or what kind of magic you possessed, but somehow you managed to have both Gojo and Nanami over at your place for dinner one night. You were close friends with both and loved to hang out with them any time you could.

You and Nanami were currently chopping up vegetables while Gojo watched from afar, playing games on his phone. You and Nanami worked quietly and efficiently while Gojo huffed.

“Am I going to be banished over here forever?” he wondered.

“Yes,” you and Nanami answered in tandem, moving around each other perfectly as you dumped the vegetables into a pan and he put the scraps in the compost bin.

“It’s not fair. I’m an adult too, you know,” he complained. Nanami gave you a look before raising an eyebrow at Gojo.

“Are we sure about that?” he said, earning another grumble from Gojo.

“Satoru, you can help me cook the meat if you’d like,” you offered, not wanting to ostracize the poor man. It’s not his fault he’s horrible at cooking! Maybe if you supervised, he’d learn something today.

He learned that fire alarms are loud and you should never pour water on a grease fire.

“That could’ve gone… worse,” you reasoned, looking at the charred pile of what once was food in your pan.

Nanami pulled his apron off and his phone out. “I’m getting us takeout. I’ll be back in a half hour or so.” He pointed at Gojo as he stood in the doorway. “You better not burn this place down.”

When the door clicked closed, Gojo let out a long sigh as he put his head in his hands.

“I can’t believe I messed that up. You guys make cooking look so easy, especially when you’re in the kitchen together.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Satoru,” you told him, trying to salvage your pan, “we’ve cooked together a lot over the years. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

“The way you two moved together in sync. When I saw that I just wished it was…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, opting to rest his head against the table he was sitting at. You felt a tug at your heartstrings seeing him so dejected.

“Wished it was what?” you questioned, walking over to him and resting your hand on his back.

“Us,” he said plainly, lifting his head and blindfold up, his blue eyes sparkling. “I wish it was you and I like that. A team. Watching you and Nanami made me realize how much I want to spend my time with you, y/n. Be with you.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you serious?”

“For one of the first times in my life, yes,” he replied, his lips upturned in a smile.

You moved your hand from his back to his hair, ruffling it. “I’d like to be with you too, Satoru. We can figure out the logistics of what that means for us after our first task as a couple, which is to clean the pan you obliterated.”

“Can’t I just buy you a new one?” he groaned, standing up to help you.

“Nope.”

“I really do hate cooking.”

Geto:

With dropping temperatures came the chance for you to show off your warmest jackets as you strolled around the cold city streets. Today, you were wearing one of your favorites, made out of cozy, teddy bear-like fabric. You and Suguru had been walking along the streets together but he had stepped inside a shop to buy you both a hot drink. You opted to stand outside in the brisk air, enjoying the winter season to its fullest.

“Excuse me,” a man said, coming up to you, “I hate to bother you but I wanted to tell you I liked your jacket.”

“Oh! Thank you,” you replied, caught off guard by his compliment. He asked you a question and you two fell into conversation, the man helping you pass the time before your boyfriend was by your side once more.

“This might sound strange, but can I touch your jacket? It looks really soft,” he wondered, looking bashful.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, totally unbothered. He cautiously brought his fingertips to your arm and felt the fabric. Unfortunately for him, it was really bad timing.

“Step aside or I’ll rip your dirty fingers off your shameful hands one by one and force feed them to you,” Suguru chimed in, appearing before the man with a disconcertingly calm smile. The stranger scurried off, a look of horror stuck to his facial features, but he luckily survived this encounter with your boyfriend so you figured he’d be fine.

“Are you alright, my dear?” asked Suguru, handing you the two drinks while he straightened your jacket.

“I am, thank you. You’re scary when you’re jealous,” you observed, your stomach fluttering with butterflies over his display of protectiveness.

“Oh? That’s good to know,” he hummed airily, taking his drink in one hand and your hand in his other one. “That filth was lucky to escape with his life today. I was hesitant to do anything that might have spilled our drinks.”

“Thank you for this, by the way,” you said, gesturing to the cup.

“Anything for my one and only. Now, where did you buy that jacket? I’m going to get you a new one that’s unsoiled.”

Nanami:

“Y/nnnnn! I’m boredddd. You and Nanami should come shopping with me!”

Gojo was practically whining at you through the cellphone speaker. You rolled your eyes as you looked over at Kento, your boyfriend shoving his nose deeper into the morning newspaper he was reading.

“I don’t think Kento’s in the mood to go out right now, Satoru.”

“Well, how about you? We’ll have a girl’s day! Or, uh, you know what I mean. Please?”

“Hold on. I’ll check with Kento.”

“Aww, do you need his permission-”

You ignored the teasing from the white haired man as Kento gave you a nod.

“That’s fine by me if you’d like to go. I have work to finish anyway.”

“Thank you,” you mouthed to him before answering Gojo. “Meet me at the train station in 10?”

“I’ll get there in 8,” he replied, ending the call. You gave Kento a kiss and left your shared apartment.

Late that evening you returned home, your arms full of bags.

“I take it you had a good time?” questioned Kento, his arms folded and eyebrows slightly raised. “You were gone quite some time.”

“Oh my gosh we had such a great time! Satoru took me everywhere. We started…”

As you recounted your day excitedly, Nanami’s heart felt heavier and heavier. Noticing his quietness, you stopped in your tracks.

“Kento? Are you alright?”

He sighed. “It’s nothing, really. It’s… juvenile.”

Your eyes softened as you took a seat next to him. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Another sigh. “You had a lovely outing with Gojo but I can’t remember the last time we had that much fun together. I’m… jealous of the way he has you smiling so much.”

“Kento, honey,” you soothed, putting your hand on his, “there’s no need to be jealous. Yes, my time with Satoru was exhilarating, but it was extremely exhausting. I much prefer the fun you and I have together; the kind that’s comfortable and familiar. You make me smile first thing in the morning all the way to the time I sleep and even in my dreams. You’re my favorite person to be with in this whole world and I’m sorry if my actions led you to assume otherwise.”

“You’re right. I was being silly. I’m sorry, too,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment.

“Hey, I got you a little something when I was out,” you told him, reaching into one of your bags. You pulled out a box and gave him a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you in close.

Choso:

After looking through the peephole, you answered your door with a warm smile.

“Please, come in!”

Your landlord had come to collect your rent. He was a good natured guy with a kind wife and new baby; his apartment complex was nice as well, as was the reasonable price he charged per month so you had no complaints. You always liked to make small talk with him while you procured the envelope of cash you had lying around since he made for good company. You two spoke for a little while before you opened the door and said goodbye, knowing your boyfriend Choso should be coming up your steps at any moment.

All Choso saw as he walked up your stairs was a handsome young man leaving your apartment, making you laugh on his way out.

He didn’t like it.

At all.

“Who might you be?” he questioned the man, his voice carrying an underlying tinge of displeasure.

Your landlord put his hand out for Choso to shake. “I’m-”

“I’m Choso, y/n’s boyfriend,” he said with a glare, putting an emphasis on the last word. “We’ve been together for a while. A long while. Just so you know.”

“Choso,” you interjected before things could get any more awkward, “this is my landlord.”

Like a light was switched on in his brain, Choso’s eyes widened and he grasped your landlord’s hand that was still stretched out.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he told him sheepishly, obviously embarrassed.

“You as well, Choso. If you’ll both excuse me, I have to get home to my wife and child. Have a great rest of your morning.”

As your landlord left down the steps, Choso was already inside, slumped on the couch.

“I’m such an idiot,” he groaned. You let out a tiny giggle.

“You went in pretty strong there, but I can’t say I blame you. It must’ve looked weird seeing a guy come out of my apartment so early in the morning. I would’ve been jealous too if I were in your shoes.”

“I wasn’t jealous!” he replied.

You raised your eyebrows. “Really? The way you emphasized boyfriend? Saying we’ve been together a long while? I would’ve thought you were going to fight him if I didn’t intervene.”

“I would’ve,” Choso spoke without hesitation.

“If he ever raises the rent,” you said, kissing his cheek, “I’ll gladly support that.”

Toji:

You were on your way to have lunch with your friend Toji when an attractive man your age waltzed up to you and struck up conversation as you walked to the cafe. Since you were single and he was cute enough, you let him entertain you on your journey. You could tell he was turning on the charm as much as he could, making you laugh at his silly quips. That lasted all the way until you bid him farewell when Toji came into view. Looking dejected at the goodbye, your admirer sauntered away.

“I didn’t get his number,” you thought to yourself, “what a shame. Oh well.”

You greeted Toji with a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“I’m starving! Let’s order,” you told him, already browsing the menu the restaurant had posted outside.

“After you then,” Toji replied, opening the door for you.

You both ordered your food at the counter and sat at a table, talking about what you both had been up to in the time you hadn’t seen each other. You noticed Toji’s gaze wander away from you every so often, but you thought nothing of it—he had a very protective nature so he was probably keeping an eye on people he deemed suspicious. You got your answer of who he was watching at the end of your meal when your story about dinner with your friends was interrupted by Toji’s booming voice.

“What the fuck are you lookin’ at, huh?” Toji asked aggressively to someone over your shoulder. You looked over to find the man that was flirting with you had taken up a seat in the booth diagonal to you and Toji, and must have been staring at you throughout your lunch.

“Oh, now you wanna act coy? You were a big man the past half hour, eyeing them up,” he snarled, jabbing a thumb your way. “We got a problem or not?”

“No! No problem, sir!” The man all but ran out of the restaurant, not even sparing you a second glance. You rolled your eyes at his cowardice; he’d never find a partner if he couldn’t find his backbone. Toji leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“Now I can finish my meal in peace. It was difficult to eat in the presence of that lovesick loser.”

“Hey,” you scolded, “is it that sickening to know someone has a crush on me?”

“Yeah, actually, it is,” he responded, leaning in. “I don’t want to see another man looking at you like that.”

You furrowed your brow. “Another man-? Toji, are you jealous or something?”

“What? No, no way. That’s ridiculous,” he said defensively, but you noticed the way he started shoveling food into his mouth to avoid further conversation.

“So if I said that guy flirted with me the entire walk over here? That wouldn’t make you feel anything?”

“I’d feel annoyed that he bothered you,” he said between bites of his meal.

“And if I wasn’t annoyed? If I liked him coming onto me strongly like that, if he gave me his phone number?”

Toji’s fists clenched at that. “He better not have.”

“What would it matter to you?” you challenged, not backing down.

“Fine! Maybe I do like you. So what?” he barked. “It makes me angry that guys approach you. If that’s jealousy, then yeah, I’m jealous. Now, will you stop your interrogation like I’m some sorta kid in trouble?”

A grin showed up on your face with this newfound knowledge. “Last question, Mr. Fushiguro: what would you do if I said I liked you too?”

He finally looked up from his bowl of noodles. “I’d ask if you were being serious.”

“I am.”

Toji put his chopsticks down and smirked. “In that case, I’d kiss you like I’ve been wanting to for a long time now and then chase down the dude that thought he could get away with flirting with my partner like that.”

[rowdyluv]

luke! #8 she/her

this is so jack teasing luke! luke having the biggest crush on a friend and everyone knows but her

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: 8, “Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.” Jᴜsᴛ ɢᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ (ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴ).”

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 500

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴏꜰ ʟᴇɢᴀʟ ᴀɢᴇ

From the porch, Luke's gaze was unwavering, his eyes locked on the distant figure of Y/n as she laughed and chatted with her friends by the dock. She was the center of their world down there, her laughter carrying through the still air and tickling his ears like a secret only he was meant to hear.

"You've got it bad," Jack said, appearing at his side with a knowing smirk. He handed Luke a cold beer, the condensation leaving a trail of wetness on his palm.

Luke took the bottle, trying to ignore the smirk on his brother's face. "It's not like that," he protested, his voice betraying his words of lies. He took a swig, the cold liquid a temporary balm to his embarrassment.

Jack leaned against the porch rail, his arms folded. "Oh really? Because you’re doing it again," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Doing what?" Luke feigned ignorance, his cheeks reddening slightly as he took a gulp of the beer.

Jack chuckled. "You know, that whole 'I'm gonna watch Y/n from afar like a lovesick puppy and not do anything about it' routine. It's a bit painful to watch.”

"Shut up, Jack," Luke grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "It's not like you've never had a crush before."

“And what did I do? I went and talked to her, right?” Jack asked rhetorically.

The question hung in the air, challenging Luke’s inaction. Y/n’s laughter grew louder, as she led her group of friends back up towards the house.

“Now or never Lukey, you see her. Wait too much longer someone else is going to come around. Don’t want that do ya?” Jack tested, pushed even.

“You’re one to talk, you just go for it without thinking and it’s always a mess. Besides, it’s different for you. Girls just throw themselves at you,” Luke said, trying to hide his jealousy behind a sip of his beer.

“For godsake Luke, if you don’t tell Y/n yourself. I’ll do it for you.” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Tell me what?” She asked topping the stairs to the porch.

They both spun around to see Y/n standing there, her eyes curious and a hint of amusement playing on her lips. She’d heard the tail end of their conversation. Luke’s heart stuttered in his chest, his grip tightening around the bottle.

“Yes, Luke. Tell her what?” Jack grinned cheekily taking a couple safety steps away from his taller, though younger, brother.

Panic flooded through Luke’s body. He took a big gulp of his beer, his eyes darting between his brother and Y/n. Taking a deep breath, running his hands through his messy curls, he lets out the breath. “Can we talk about it alone?”

“Of course, Lukey. You know we can talk anytime.” She offers out her hand to him to lead him inside so they could talk with the barrier of the door adding a layer of privacy Luke wasn’t too sure of himself, but Jack was right.

Now or never.

[itneverendshere]

the fireworks are through, here we are, me and you - r.c

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

decided to get back into writing with something smaller and just in time for the NYE! i'm a bit late (obviously) but wanted to write a little piece for my first universe, since it's so dear to my heart! hope all of you add a good, fresh, amazing start to 2025 and if you didn't, it will get better 💘

Rafe Cameron had never cared about New Year’s Eve—never cared about anything that came with it, really.

No resolutions, no countdowns, no stupid superstitions. For years, the only thing NYE had ever been to him was an excuse to get high, shit-faced, or both. Another party, another distraction, another night to drown out the noise in his head. 

This year was different, he had you.

“Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”

“Baby, I’m fine,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

Rafe nodded, but you could see the gears turning in his head. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye every second, quietly assessing if you were comfortable, if you were happy.

You leaned against the marble kitchen island, sipping something fizzy from a crystal flute, half-listening as he introduced you to another one of his college buddies. He had his arm slung low around you, the tips of his fingers brushing the hem of your dress like he couldn’t help himself.

“You still good?” he murmured, leaning close so that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear. 

You tilted your head to look at him, catching that pretty face that never failed to make your knees weak. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, though the truth was you felt a little out of place. You still weren’t used to this crowd, their polished laughs and overpriced cologne. Maybe you’d never be.

But Rafe made it bearable, he always did.

His eyes traced the curve of your cheek, the way the fairy lights strung across the patio reflected in your eyes. You didn’t notice, busy scanning the room, but to him, you were the only thing worth looking at.

“You’re lying."

Your brow furrowed as you looked back at him.

“What?”

“You’re not fine.” He moved impossibly closer, his free hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “You always do that little thing with your mouth when you’re uncomfortable.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips twitched. “I’m fine, really. It’s just...not my scene.”

His hand dropped from your face to your hip again, pulling you a fraction closer, like he needed to feel you against him to believe you were really there. 

“Okay, let’s eave,” he said, his tone so earnest it made your chest ache.

“Baby,” you sighed, placing a hand on his chest to keep him from spiraling into full protective mode. “You’ve been looking forward to this. I’ll survive a few hours of rich-kid bullshit. Promise.”

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your temple, “Don’t care about the stupid party,” he murmured against your skin. “Just wanted to spend the night with you.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time it was more for show.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you.” The words slipped out so easily, like they’d been sitting on the tip of his tongue all night. He meant every damn syllable.

The night wore on and he stuck to your side like glue. It was endearing, in a way, as he introduced you to his university friends, always with some kind of proud little flourish—like saying your name was his favorite thing to do. 

“This is her,” he’d said more than once, his chest puffed up slightly, like just having you on his arm made him the luckiest guy in the room.

The way he looked at you made it hard to stay annoyed. Everyone was polite enough, but Rafe didn’t let any awkwardness linger, always guiding the conversation, nudging you in with a soft “Tell them about that time…” or offering a quick compliment like, “She’s way better at that than I ever was.”

And when one of his friends said something vaguely pretentious, you felt his hand tighten ever so slightly on your waist before he cut in with a sharp, “Yeah, okay, Benji, but tell them about the time you puked on your mom’s Birkin.” His grin was all teeth, but his tone was light—he was still playing nice, but only because of you.

By the time the countdown was close, the party had spilled outside.

The chilly night air nipped at your skin, but you didn’t mind—especially when Rafe shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders without a word.

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you. It smelled like him—clean, with just a hint of that cologne you loved.

He didn’t respond, just tugged you closer, his hands settling on your hips as he leaned down to look at you. “What are you gonna wish for?”

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the question.

“At midnight. What are you gonna wish for?” His blue eyes so intense they made your stomach scream.

You laughed, trying to brush off the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Don’t know. A winning lottery ticket, maybe? Health?”

But he didn’t laugh, just kept looking at you like you were the answer to every question he’d ever had.

“What about you? Do you know what you’re gonna wish for?”

His lips twitched into the faintest smile, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Already got everything I need.”

“Be serious."

He shrugged, the gesture almost sheepish, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on your heart.

“I, uh...might’ve wished for you last year,” he admitted, “Didn’t know it was you at the time, but...yeah. Turns out the universe actually listens sometimes.”

You stared at him, completely floored.

“You’re such a fuckin' dork.” You shook your head, trying to tamp down the stupid grin spreading across your face. “You really did the whole thing last year?”

“The whole thing,” he nodded, completely unashamed. “The grapes, the red underwear, the running around the block with a suitcase—”

“No,” you said, giggling now. “You did not.”

“Swear to God,” he shook his head. “Felt so fucking stupid at the time, but...worked, didn’t it?”

You arched a brow, fighting back a chucke. “It didn’t work. It’s all just superstitious bullshit.”

He shrugged, pulling you even closer. “You’re here in my arms, I’m pretty sure it did.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, the countdown began. 

Ten seconds, then nine, then eight…By the time it hit one, his lips were on yours, the sound of fireworks and cheers fading into the background. All you could feel was him—his hands on you, his breath mingling with yours, the quiet hum of contentment settling in your chest.

Maybe he was right. Maybe the universe had been listening.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured against your lips, his voice hardly audible over the cheers and music around you. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his eyes still closed, he couldn’t pull away just yet.

“Happy New Year,” you echoed, your voice teasing. “Though I guess you’re feeling pretty smug right now, huh? Thinking you manifested all this.”

He hummed, his hands trailing up your sides. “Damn right I am. How else do you explain it?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, “Maybe it’s just dumb luck. Or—crazy idea—you charmed me all on your own.”

“Nah,” he said, beaming now. “Luck’s never been my thing. But you? You’re somethin’ else, baby. Don’t think I stood a chance once you walked into my life. If this is what I get every year, I’ll eat a whole fuckin’ vineyard’s worth of grapes next time.”

You snorted, “Don’t push your luck, Cameron. The universe might get tired of your whining.”

“Not whining,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “Just thinkin’ about how lucky I got. Don’t know what I did to deserve this, but...shit, I’m glad I did it.”

“You’re just lucky no one got that on video. Kook Prince Cameron running around like a maniac? The scandal.”

“Don’t care,” he said simply, his tone so sure it made you pause. “Would’ve done it ten times over if it meant finding you.”

He didn’t how someone could be so completely themselves and still feel like his, you were made just for him.

“Rafe…”

“I mean it. You’re everything I ever wanted, baby. I didn’t even know it until you came along. Can’t imagine my life without you.”

Your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice wrapping around your heart and squeezing. When he kissed you again, the fireworks in the sky had nothing on the ones between you.

For once, he didn’t need the haze of a party or the numbness of a bottle to feel like he belonged, with you, he already did.

“You’re such a fucking romantic,” you whispered against his lips, your tone soft enough to take the edge off the words.

His cheshire grin returned.

“Guess you bring it out of me.”

You weren’t just someone he loved—you were it for him. His north star, the one thing that made the chaos in his head quiet. When he pulled back from another kiss, his eyes searched yours, a flicker of insecurity showing up.

“Was it dumb?” he asked suddenly, his voice hesitant.

You blinked, still dazed from the kiss. “What?”

“All that shit I said. The universe, the grapes…all of it. Was it too much?” He tried to laugh it off.

You shook your head, smiling in that way that always knocked the wind out of him. 

“Not dumb. Kind of crazy, maybe, but sweet. Really sweet.”

His lips turned into a lopsided grin, relief flooding his features. 

“Good,” he said, his voice firmer now. “’Cause I meant every word. Don’t tell anyone, though. Gotta keep up my rep.”

You laughed, and the sound was like a balm to his soul. He’d fight the whole fucking world to keep that laugh in his life. Your hands slid up to rest on his chest, your touch soft, familiar.

Safe.

“Tell me about this rep of yours.”

Rafe smiled to ear to ear, the devilish glow in his eye making your heart race.

“Y’know, bad boy, troublemaker, heartbreaker…” He trailed off, his smirk turning cocky. “And, uh, not to brag, but pretty great in bed.”

You froze for half a beat, pushing at his chest.

“Oh my God. Why would you even—ugh, you’re impossible.”

“What?” he asked innocently, though his expression betrayed him. “Just stating facts, baby.” 

The teasing in his tone enough to make you groan.

“You’re disgusting,” you shot back, biting your lip to keep from squealing like an love sick fool.

“Disgustingly good-looking,” he corrected, leaning closer. “And disgustingly in love with you.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

“Nope. I take it back. I take all my kisses back.”

“You can’t do that!” He straightened, looking mock-offended.

“I can, and I just did.” You crossed your arms, stepping back just far enough to make him frown.

He followed instantly, tugging you back by the waist. “That’s not how it works, baby,” he said, dipping his head so his lips hovered just above yours. “You give ‘em to me, they’re mine. No refunds.”

You tried to glare, but the way his voice dipped on the last two words made your entire body shudder.

“See,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then another. And another. He trailed them down to your jaw, his grin widening with each one, “All mine.”

You raised a brow, trying to act unimpressed even as his voice sent shivers down your spine. “If this is your way of trying to get laid, it’s pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” he repeated, mock horror lighting up his features. “Baby, you were literally begging for it last night—”

Your jaw dropped, your cheeks flaming. “Rafe!” you hissed, shoving at his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“What?” he said, all fake innocence, even as his face turned downright wolfish. “’m just being honest. You said you liked it when I—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you warned, but he could hear the laugh bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours as his lips finally, finally captured yours. 

The kiss started slow, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you gave in, parting them for him.

The second you did, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessiveness that made your toes curl. He tasted like whiskey and mint, your favorites. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling just right as he claimed your mouth like it was his job.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your fingers curling into the lapels of his shirt to keep yourself standing. He took that as encouragement, biting down gently on your bottom lip before soothing the sting with a slow, wet drag of his tongue.

“Thought you were taking all your kisses back,” he muttered against your lips, his voice taunting as he pulled back just enough to make you chase him.

“Still considering it,” you panted, though the way you tugged him closer said otherwise.

His lips were on yours again, it made your head spin. His teeth grazed your lip again, and when you gasped, he licked into your mouth, groaning softly as he tasted you. When he pulled back just a smidge, a thin string of spit connected your mouths, and the sight of it made your cheeks burn all over again.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice husky as he used his thumb to wipe the corner of your swollen lips. “If you keep kissing me like that, we might have to skip the rest of this party.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him, “You think I’m that easy to distract?”

“Don’t need to think,” he mused as his hands slid lower, resting on the curve of your ass. “Pretty sure I just proved it.”

You sighed, but it wasn’t with exasperation—it was amusement, adoration.

Your your fingers brushed the collar of his shirt as you traced his cheek, “Skipping the party, huh?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his just enough to drive him crazy. “What would we even do instead?”

His hold tightened on your skin, his voice dipping into a near growl as he answered, “Baby, I can think of a few things.”

The heat in his eyes made your cheeks flush, and this time around you didn’t attempt to hide the shit-eating smile taking over your face.

“You’re not even a little subtle, are you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he admitted, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours again.

Happy Fucking New Year to him.

[thanosscross]

My girl! - Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader - 2/?

Summary: After finishing the first game, you tackle two more before finally being allowed to go home, not before realizing Su-bong might be a little more than in love with you.

Warnings: Implied smut, making out, drug use, reader taking drugs, Thanos murdering someone

It was early, you weren't sure how early, but you knew it was early because the guards hadn't come in yet, nor had the lights been turned back on. You laid awake though, wondering if this was truly the right idea and choice, I mean, people were dying for fucks sake. You were interrupted by your thoughts by a familiar click from the other side of the room, Thanos's locket, of course he woke up early just to get high. As you sat up to get a better view, you noticed him on the steps in front of the large doors, holding the pill up in the air almost like he was examining it, huffing and deciding on what you were going to do next, you got up quietly but quickly making your way to him. Using your sleeves to try and rub the tiredness from your eyes, you could see Thanos smiling at you from his spot "There you are, beauty flower, even just waking up, you're still the prettiest one" He flirted, you rolled you eyes sitting down next to him, Thanos immediately wrapping his arm around you "Why you up this early, my girl?" He asked turning his full attention to you, You just shrugged leaning closer into his touch "Do you feel like..we should've picked to go home?.." You whispered, fidgeting with your shaky hands, ones that hadn't stopped since you got finished with the first game. "What? No! We're here to get that money, baby!" He shouted, you slapped your hand over his mouth in return 'shhing' him. "I just...I want to win the money..not go home empty handed..but I wanna make it home" You whispered, Su-bong noticed your breathing picking up it's pace, so he held you a little tighter "We'll make it home baby, we'll get you moved into my place..which is currently an apartment, but once we win, it'll be the biggest mansion you'll ever see" he smirked kissing the top of your head dramatically "I'm scared...su-bong" You whispered, trying to keep your voice stable, he sighed "Wanna try something?..I do it when I'm scared" He offered, popping his locket open "Su-bong" You warned, he had offered you drugs twice before, on your first music video shoot with him, and you declined, explaining you don't like feeling not in control of yourself and your own actions. "It's okay, we can...make it less..intense" He whispered looking at you through his lashes, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't hot as fuck right now. "How?" You asked, he had already tried the cut it in half trick, and you still weren't comfortable with it, you were just glad he respected that. You watched as he grabbed another pill, placing it under his tongue before offering his hand raising his eyebrows, cluelessly you went to grab it. He laughed "You're adorable" He smirked shaking his head before pulling you closer to him pressing his lips to yours "Just take it when you're ready" You were shocked at first, but his hand resting on the back of your head massaging it lightly quickly relaxed you, never would you have thought three years ago you'd be making out with Su-bong taking drugs aswell. You just cupped his cheek slightly parting your lips letting him slide the small pink pill into your mouth, he never pulled away though, making sure to explore your mouth before finally pulling away, delivering a loud confident disgusting lick to the side of your face. "Su-bong!" You gasped trying to wipe his saliva off of your cheek "wow. that was...absolutely fantastic, baby" He said catching his breath, smirking as the lights flicked on just in time to reveal your hot pink cheeks.

The next game you played was a six legged pentathlon, You had gotten separated from Su-bong and for a moment you felt fear wash over you that you might get stuck with somebody else "Hey..do you wanna team up?.." A girl asked softly, you turned around "O-oh uhm...y-yea yea" You shook your head nervously desperate to find your..friend? boyfriend? ex boss? "Can I join you guys?.." A younger man asked, you frowned, taking a minute to shake off the feeling that he looked alot like your brother. "Yes yes, but we have to find thanos, he's got purple hair" You rambled trying to jump over everybody to see him. "HEY!" You heard a loud voice shout before a body slammed into you "There you are, my girl!" Su-bong shouted excited that he found you finally "Who are they?" He asked gripping you tightly, you couldn't place it but there was something different in his eyes, and now that the game rules were being explained, you started to regret taking that pill from su-bong.

The entire time leading up to your turn you were desperately trying to cling to Thanos, but he was more concerned with Nam-gyu and doing more drugs, once he gave his friend one he turned to you, finally taking in your state "Hey" He whispered popping a pill under his tongue offering his hand up again, you just shook your head taking his hand and holding onto it, your hands still shaking so bad you shook su-bong's hands "I-I'm scared, Thanos" You whispered nervously trying not to let the others hear "I-I'm not really good at these games.." You whispered, his eyes softened for a moment "You're fine, it's fine, we've got this" He assured, shaking your hands slightly in his

Playing was even worse, because of your anxiety and panic, you spent a full minute messing up, then another minute spent trying to get Nam-Gyu and Su-Bong to stop trying to kill each other over Nam-Gyu calling you a dumb bitch for fucking up for the third time. Walking back into the main room you heard Su-Bong threaten Nam-Gyu for the third time in the last two minutes, you just walked back to your bed sitting down. "My girl" Su-young said as he approached you, his tone a lot more soft and gentle than usual "I meant it when I said nobody disrespects Thanos the Great's girls" He stated sitting down at the foot of your bed "You were going to get us all killed if it meant he died, su-bong" You whispered "I wanna go home" You whispered nervously, he just shook his head crawling up next to you, hovering over you, using his arms to trap you "Baby, we're so close to winning enough for us, come on, one more game" He whispered, he purposely pitched his voice lower and whinier than usual, letting his hips ghost over yours. You were flustered safe to say, you were in such a crowded public place, and he's just open about this.

"O-One more" You whispered before turning on your side, Su-Bong hissing for a moment as your hip made contact with his semi-hard on, he flopped onto his side next to you, pulling you close to him "That's my baby" He smirked whispering against your neck.

The next game you played was mingle, and you were worried, both Nam-Gyu and Su-Bong were higher than you've ever seen him, and you weren't sure if he'd ditch you if the number was lower than three, you kept your distance as he danced around, always somehow stopping with enough time to hold onto you to keep you from falling whenever the platform halted to a stop, everything was going so smoothly until the speaker called out two players, you froze waiting for Thanos to tell you that you needed to go find someone else, but instead the air was knocked out of you as someone barrelled into you dragging you away "NO!" You heard Su-Bong shout, right before the random player shut the door, you saw Su-Bong rushing over, something in his eyes that made your blood run cold with fear. The player shoved you down letting you fall onto your side with a gasp, he started to apologize whenever the door slammed against his head, Su-Bong deranged face appeared with a large smile "You're makin me really angry, man!" He screamed before kneeling down starting to choke the man "S-Su-Bong!" You shouted, he was about to fucking kill a man "Close the fucking door!" He screamed towards you, not taking his eyes off the man he was currently ripping the life away from, you rushed slamming the door curling up against it covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut.

You didn't speak again for the rest of the game, or the night, you've watched people die this entire time, but this was different. You held your breath whenever you felt Su-Bong climb in bed next to you, not knowing if you were next or not "Beauty flower" He whispered "You never ate" He whispered sliding half of his half eaten dinner they provided "Not hungry" You whispered pulling the blanket higher "Please" He pleaded, but you just stayed quiet "Y/n. Don't make me mad, senorita" He whispered lowly, not like before though, this time it struck your body with fear "S-Su-Bong you killed somebody.." You whispered, refusing to look at him "For you, baby, I did it for you, I'm fucking crazy for you, baby" He pleaded, you could tell just by his tone he was high "W-Will you ever end up hurting me?.." You asked nervously, trying to stay quiet, part of you regrets asking the question, and hoped he never heard you, but he turned you around without a choice "I would never hurt such a delicate flower like you, baby" He said, trying to prove his point further by very delicately placing his hands on your cheeks, you so desperately wanted to believe him and relax in his touch, but you were scared. "Y/n, I will never hurt you, and if I do? Kill me" He shrugged, you glared smacking him as hard as you could in the chest "Too fucking soon you dick" You scoffed trying to turn away but he just pulled you closer.

You stood waiting to vote, so far it had been twenty-three Xs and thirty-six Os, as your number was called, you glanced as Su-Bong, terrified of what was going to happen if you stayed any longer. You walked to the brightly colored buttons, pressing the bright red X, finally swapping your blue O over to a red X, looking back you saw Su-Bong give you a disappointed look, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you walked over to the respected area and waited. As you watched Thanos approach the same buttons you held your breath, it was alot closer together now, and it was just Thanos and three other people to determine if you went home or not. You let out a sob seeing him press the red X proudly before turning around "Thanos stays loyal to his girls!" He shouted before skipping over to find you, his demeanor falling whenever he saw your tears "What happened, baby?" he asked grabbing your arms gently "N-nothing it's just, I might actually get to go home" You cried, he smiled now knowing he was the reason for your happy tears, pulling you into a hug he made a point to stare down the remaining players as they voted.

"We're sad to hear the majority of you would like to leave, per the agreement and the results of our voting process, you all will be leaving the games. The room erupted with loud chants and cheers, Su-Bong never releasing you from his hug "We're goin home, baby!" He yelled out as Nam-Gyu approached, his X patch prominent on his jacket, of course, he'd suck Su-Bong's dick if he was okay with it.

You slept like a baby that night, surprised and terrified to wake up to being thrown out of a van back onto the streets of your home town, your bag being thrown after you, after getting your footing and becoming familiar with your surroundings, you made a quick start for Su-Bong's apartment, you just hoped he still lived in that one and didn't move. As you got closer to his home, you spotted his bright purple hair kissing his shoes he had lost at the beginning of the games "Su-Bong!" You shouted taking off in a sprint to see him again, in a setting where you weren't risking your lives. "Holy shit! My girl! My beauty flower!" He yelled out opening his arms stumbling back a little bit as you slammed into him, holding onto him tightly "You okay? They didn't hurt you did they? They'll feel the wrath of Thanos the great!" He screamed out to the night sky "I'm okay! I'm okay, I just..I'm so happy to see you" You smiled squeezing him tighter, he just laughed holding onto you as he leaned down resting his head on yours.

Walking into the apartment again, you were flushed with old emotions, but you were pulled back to the present by Thanos's lips connecting with your neck "We're alone now, senorita, no players to see what we do" He whispered pulling your hips back to be flush against his "Su-bong, take me to dinner first" You gasped shaking your head as you turned around to face him "Let's..eat real food..then..continue this..and we'll start looking at new places, because..I might like you, but this is way too small for two people" You teased, he nodded almost like he was over excited about the idea. Unknown to you, this is all Su-Bong wanted, all he needed was to become big in the rap world, then he had more than he ever had.

---

So I wasn't entirely sure how to continue after his death scene in the show, so I tried to improvise the best I could, if you want me to continue this let me know, I love feedback especially towards my writing, I was thinking if you wanted I could do like a half part of just smut before finishing up the storyline, or I could leave it here?

[blackmoonowl]

Oneshot where Barbatos is struggling not to constantly serve mc

𝐒𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

ꨄ Pairing: Barbatos x reader

ꨄ Summary: On a Barbatos posting roll rn. Just some fluff and crack, no serious plot points. A little short to pass the time.

ꨄ Word Count: 622

"Don't mind the mess, I did my best to clean up before you came."

Barbatos glanced around your home, taking it in. He had never seen your human world home, and it fascinated him. The butler stepped over your shoes, picking them up and neatly putting them away in the rack. Under his arm he held a beautifully decorated wooden box.

"Do not worry, I have seen far worse," the demon assured you, kissing your hand before making his way into your living room as you closed the door.

"Thanks, do you want some tea? It's probably not the good stuff you're used to," you offered, gesturing towards your kitchen. Barbatos smiled, waving his hand slightly.

"There is no need, I brought a brew I made myself, your favorite." Before you could say anything else, the butler walked past you to make the tea himself.

"Hold on a second," you replied, causing him to halt You leaned on the counter, tilting your head to the side with a smile. "You're the guest here, shouldn't I be making your tea?"

"I assure you, it is no trouble." Barbatos took the wooden box, opening it to reveal several tea blends. "I live to serve."

"Serve Diavolo, not me." You replied, gently taking his wrist and guiding him to sit down. Barbatos furrowed his brows slightly, but did as you instructed him, sitting down neatly in one of your chairs.

"Are you certain?" Barbatos questioned as you began making tea for the both of you. "I find enjoyment in taking care of you as much as I do the young master."

"Yeah, but I'm not the crown prince, I'm your partner. We're supposed to be equals here," you said as you put the tea cup on a small plate and served it to him with some biscuits. Barbatos shifted uncomfortably as he waited for you to sit down before even starting.

"this is the tea cup I bought you for your birthday years ago," Barbatos mumbled as he inspected the decorated item. "You have no idea how much that pleases me to see. Have you kept your own matching one?"

"Course I did, gift from my favorite demon. I could never lose it." You shared a smile with him as he glanced back at his cup.

"I wouldn't let the brothers hear that I am your favorite, even if it is true." He crossed his legs as he watched you brew your own cup. "Even if I relish in it."

You began cleaning up the kitchen a little. Barbatos was on his feet immediately, nearly making you jump out of your skin when he stood right beside you suddenly.

"That is best cleaned with a different type of sponge, allow me to do it for you," he offered. He took the towel from you as you shot him a look.

"Barbatos, c'mon. What did I just tell you?" You huffed, crossing your arms as Barbatos wiped down your counter. You had never seem the butler so conflicted before, it was almost jarring. "Just sit down."

"Dear, your apartment is messy, and you expect me to sit down and simply do nothing? I won't stand for that." Barbatos scolded you gently. "I cannot simply sit by and not do my job as a butler. Allow me to take care of you."

"Barbatos, I'm with you because I love who you are, not what you can do for me. I promise I'll clean my stuff up later, alright?" Barbatos relented, walking back to the table with you. He sat down, neatly taking his cup of tea as you took yours. Barbatos gently blew before placing the cup to his lips, taking a small sip.

"It is perfect."

[fuctacles]

<< 14 | 0 | 16 >>

looking for dog-themed songs for the fic playlist

They sit facing each other on the warmed up concrete, having given away the lawn chairs to the girls. Steve is sliding every piece of onion off his skewer and onto Eddie's plate, which sits right next to his for easy sharing. It reminds him of cafeteria meals and swapping snacks with friends, something he never had with Steve, because of how different they were in high school. It makes him wonder if what he's feeling could really be mutual. 

"Are you staying for the movie?"

His eyes snap back up to meet Steve's, waiting for an answer. 

"I guess so. What are we watching?" It might not be the wisest to keep around while figuring himself out, but what is he going to do? Not spend time with his friends? 

Steve rolls his eyes. 

"The jury is still out," he answers dryly. "But I can guess some nerd shit will get majorly outvoted."

Eddie snorts.

"What would you pick? A baseball game?" he asks, chewing on a piece of meat. His fingers are getting greasy, but they forgot to grab napkins and standing up sounds like too much exercise. 

Steve moves the grilled bits on his plate with the now empty skewer. 

"Not really..." he says, all quiet and shy, which immediately grabs Eddie's attention. Wary of the food and drinks between them, he leans in conspiratorially. 

"You can tell me, I ain't a snitch," he reassures, and when Steve looks up, he adds a wink. Steve huffs out an amused breath.

"I like romantic comedies," he admits, watching Eddie warily, like he's awaiting judgement. 

"Huh." He sits back to properly take him in. "That kinda makes sense."

"Yeah?" Steve raises an eyebrow. 

"Yeah." Eddie shrugs, and now he's feeling self-conscious. "It suits you. We could watch something one day, your pick."

Ohmygodsohmygodsohmygods, do not invite Steve for one-on-one romcom watching—!

Steve's face lights up with a wide smile. 

"Oh, I'm going to hold you to that one, Munson," he teases, but it's obvious he's genuinely excited by the offer. 

"Already regretting I said it," Eddie teases back, but offers Steve a strip of bacon so he knows he doesn't mean it. 

Without thinking, he starts licking the grease off his fingers, and it takes him a moment to realize Steve stopped moving. He looks up with a questioning hum, fingertip in his mouth.

"You need a napkin?" Steve asks with a raise of his eyebrows. 

"Nah, I'm good," Eddie mumbles around his finger just to be difficult, and pushes it deeper, sucking with gusto. For once, Steve doesn't look into his eyes, too focused on his mouth. His cheeks are colored the faintest shade of pink, and Eddie finally realizes what he's been doing. He slides his finger out with a wet smack and smiles apologetically. "Sorry. Want me to lick yours too?" he offers, like the good friend that he is. 

Someone nearby chokes, but he's too focused on the bit to check who. Their fault for listening in, right?

Meanwhile, Steve's face turns tomato red. 

"Uh, I'll manage myself. I'm good at licking," he cringes as soon as the worlds leave his mouth, and Eddie almost chokes himself with how hard he laughs.

====

After the party, comes more cleaning. This time, as there's more people and everyone gets forced into using their two hands and opposable thumbs, it goes faster, though with much more complaining.

Sometime in the middle of filling the trash bags, Robin has changed the music. Steve sighs, when the first song plays, but by the next two, his head is nodding to the beat. On the chorus, his hips sway, and Eddie almost drops the plate he's holding. 

"Your song, dingus!" Robin yells when the next song starts, making Steve roll his eyes. But he's shimmying his shoulders and mouthing along to all the lyrics. 

They tie away their bags at the same time, which gives Eddie the misfortune of watching him free his hands and make a silly little dance.

"Well, you ain't never caught no rabbit, you ain't no friend of mine!" he mouths along, and when he catches Eddie staring, he gives him a sheepish smile and a wink.

"Should I find you more dog themed songs to dance to?" he raises his eyebrow with a smile.

"No—"

"Yes!" Robin pops out from behind him, seemingly out of nowhere. "I'm constantly on the look out, but there aren't many good songs. I want to make a playlist." She grins. 

"Oh, I'm in." Eddie smiles back, extending his hand. Their palms slap together, and Steve shakes his head.

"Wow. Traitors." 

"Oh, I'd never betray you, Hound Dog," Eddie declares with a hand to his heart. Steve flips him off.

====

They pick The Battle for Endor, which Steve accepts with a sigh and a quiet "At least it has teddies," something probably only Eddie can hear, since he's sitting right next to him. He starts dozing off halfway through anyway, but Eddie doesn't wake him up until the movie ends and they have to plan how to get the younger lot home. It was a busy day, after all. 

"I'm going home anyway, so I can take them," Nancy offers. 

"Don't be stupid," Steve mumbles in his half-asleep state. "You won't fit them in your car."

"I can get Max and Super Twins," Eddie says, and the grasp around his arm tightens. He looks down at Steve, suddenly awake and frowning.

"You're not staying?" he asks, audibly upset. 

"I'll come back," Eddie reassures him quickly, patting his hand. "Okay! Mad Max, Wonder Twins, grab your shit. The sooner we leave, the closer I am to getting wasted," he commands, gently prying himself out of Steve's grasp. He scratches behind his ear as a consolation. "Should I grab anything while I'm out?"

"No," Steve says quickly, even though Jonathan has already opened his mouth, most probably with a request.

Something twists in Eddie's chest.

"Okay, buddy, I'll be back as soon as I can, no detours," he reassures again, with another scratch. 

"Okay, thanks." Steve closes his eyes briefly, but then blinks them open and pushes at his thigh, like his mind has suddenly cleared from the remnants of sleep. "Be quick, but without breaking the law." He smiles up at Eddie.

"Ugh, fine." He rolls his eyes. "Be right back," he nudges Steve's head before motioning the kids to follow him outside. 

It's suddenly silent, with the movie over and most of the people gone from the room. Steve clears his throat, watching Robin crawl over the carpet to rewind the tape. 

"So only Nancy isn't staying?" he asks, looking around the room. 

"I already told my parents I'm sleeping over." Robin shrugs. 

Jonathan and Argyle look at each other, like they are communicating in a way not dissimilar to Steve and Robin.

"It's good vibes here, man," Argyle says, his hair swaying as he nods. 

"Eddie promised we'll compare the goods," Jonathan adds. 

"Oh, right!" his friend perks up, his eyes sparkling. "Almost forgot about that."

Robin makes a face. 

"God, I really hope you mean the weed," she says. "You think I can still persuade Nancy to come back?"

The boys start snickering, but Steve quickly collects himself to answer her question, no matter how unserious it is. 

"I think she wouldn't be comfortable," he winces, because they all know why. "But I could drive you to hers if you want to?" he offers instead. 

She shakes her head. 

"Nah, just give me a beer and I'll lower my joke standards to yours."

"Okay, you don't have to be mean, Robs," Steve rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. On his way to the kitchen, he tugs on her hair. "Beers for everyone?" He turns to look at each of his remaining guests.

Jonathan nods, but Argyle shakes his head. 

"I don't mix my substances," he says, pulling out a joint out of his pocket instead. 

When Eddie comes back, he makes a beeline upstairs, hoping he hasn't been spotted. He doubts his van hasn't been heard, her old-lady coughs being a part of her charm, but maybe he was stealthy enough inside not to be traced. 

But once he's back down he realizes how foolish that thought was. Because somehow, Steve is ridiculously attuned to him and has his eyes on Eddie immediately, like he's been expecting him. A cold bottle of beer is pressed into his hand when he sits back in the seat that's been waiting for him. 

"Dropped some stuff upstairs, since I'm sleeping over again," he explains quietly without prompting, his nervousness making him yap unnecessarily, as usual. "Uh, are we bunking together too, or...?" It was probably stupid of him to assume, considering there are more people in the house today that need a place to sleep. 

Considering his own freak out this morning. 

"Of course," Steve says with a smile that tells him no other option had crossed his mind. "Unless you don't want to?" he cocks his head, almost like he's tilting curious, pointed ears. "I promise to wear pants this time." 

Jonathan chokes on his beer, and when Eddie snaps his head that way, Argyle gives him a supportive smile and that weird surfer gesture, while patting Jon on the back.

He hopes the dim light of the room hides the flush of embarrassment on his face. 

"Well, since you promise to be decent, how could I say no?" he says, rolling his head back to Steve. 

Steve, who gives him a relieved, dazzling smile, and presses their thighs together, flooding his whole body with warmth.

It's terrifying, how good it feels. 

tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1

@stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible

@bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets

@ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight @eyehartart

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Hey so can I have a scenario where Kurt has a s/o who he has been with for a while. It’s smut. S/o is a gentle, loving, passionate top? It’s not about his appearance or any bad actions he has done. S/o is just very loving in the moment with him whenever they do the deed?

~Late To The Party~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: oral m & f receiving, lots of praise, general goofy cuteness here

Genre: it's smut ofc but plenty of fluff too

Summary: Sometimes your boyfriend just looks good enough to eat ;)

A/N:Thank you for requesting darling! <3

***

You hum to yourself as you do your makeup at your vanity. You want to go relatively simple, a smokey eye probably, that's your go to when you're struggling to decide on a look. While you work, you hear your boyfriend mutter a couple of curses in German and stifle a chuckle. This happens any time he tries to tie a tie.

"Having a bit of trouble, my love?" You ask walking over to the bathroom where he's no doubt rebuking the very creation of neckties.

"Help, please?" He sighs, hands dropping to his sides.

"Of course my sweet." You smile, adjusting the sides to the proper length and tying it for him.

"This is ridiculous I should be able to tie a tie." He grumbles.

"I don't think it's that important, it's not like you wear ties every day." You shrug.

"But- most adult men can tie a tie, can't they?" 

"I dunno. But you should never learn because I like doing it for you." You adjust the knot around his neck slightly and tap his nose.

"I think it's important that I learn how to tie one for myself." He says.

"Yeah if you plan to start working at a bank." You scoff.

"A bank?"

"Or any other job that requires a tie every morning. You wear them so rarely that I really don't think you're missing out on anything, but if you must know, I'll teach you to do it for yourself. Even though I like doing it for you."

"Thank you." He says and you offer him a smile. With the tie fiasco out of the way, you take a look at his full outfit. He looks good. I mean he always looks good but he looks especially good right now. You tilt your head as you examine him.

"Is that a new shirt?" You ask.

"Yes. Does it look weird?" Kurt frowns looking down at himself.

"No! Quite the opposite, it looks really good." You tell him.

"Really? I wasn't sure the color would-"

"The color is perfect. Although, now I wonder if I should change so we match better." You look down at your own dress.

"Don't. You look amazing." Kurt says softly with that doe eyed lovey look he sometimes gives you. The one that so closely resembles the blissed out expression on his face after sex. Like the other day, you went through your toy stash together, and he picked a couple out that piqued his interest- that was a fun night.

"Keep looking at me like that and we'll be incredibly late to this party." You tap under his chin and leave the bathroom before your wandering mind does make you both late.

"Late? Why? We're pretty ahead of schedule right now." Kurt checks his watch while you sit back at your vanity.

"I know but we won't stay that way with you giving me that dopey grin." You tell him as you do your eyeliner.

"What dopey grin?" He frowns at you through the mirror.

"Well you're not doing it anymore, but sometimes you get this dopey grin on your face like I put the sun in the sky every morning and it looks a lot like your 'I just got my brain turned to mush' face after we have sex." You tell him.

"Oh."

"Don't worry I'm not going to jump your bones- I'm just thinking about it." You wink at him through the mirror as you swipe on your lipstick.

"I- don't wanna be late." He says hesitantly. You spin around on your vanity bench and face him.

"This lipstick is pretty life proof. I bet I wouldn't even have to redo it before we hit the road." You say, taunting him slightly. He's within arm's reach so you pull him towards you by the wrist and he looks at you with wide eyes, anticipating your next move.

"Liebling-"

"I know I said I was only thinking about it- but you are just too cute, I don't think I can wait til we get back to eat you up." You hum. Kurt gulps, he knows he won't be able to stop you once you start putting your hands on him or rather he'll have no desire to do so, but he doesn't want to show up super late to this party.

You thumb the button of his slacks and tug down the zip, shimmying his pants about halfway down his legs, freeing his dick, which is basically at eye level with you sitting on the vanity bench.

"Now, you'll have to keep your hands to yourself, I don't want you messing up my makeup. The rest of it isn't life proof." You warn him.

"But we'll be late to the-" Kurt trails off when your hand caresses his thigh.

"What were you saying?"

"I- you're distracting me." He says.

"Am I? Should I stop then?" You hum.

"Y/n please."

"We can go! You just have to tell me you don't want it, or even just step back. You haven't moved away so I'm not sure that I'm convinced you care that much about being late at this point." You muse. You're still just rubbing his thigh, giving him plenty of time to stop you.

"I care but I- liebling you know I can't say no to you." Kurt sighs.

"I'm not going to do anything if you won't ask for it then." You shrug.

"What?"

"Since you're so concerned with being on time I'm leaving it in your hands, if you want to leave we'll leave, but if you want what I want you'll have to tell me that."

"It- it's not the end of the world if we're a little late, right?"

"Right. So are we going to be a little late?"

"I- I think we're going to be a little late." Kurt says.

"Brilliant." You smile, wrapping your hand around his dick. Kurt takes a sharp breath and his abs tense in front of you. You wrap your lips around the tip of him and he gasps, squeezes his eyes shut, and balls his fists at his side.

"Y-you look- r-really pretty right nnnow." Kurt stutters.

"Thank you baby, so do you." You wink at him and take him back into your mouth. You watch his mouth fall open and his head tip back as he loses himself in the heat of your mouth wrapped around him. You move your head slowly up and down his length, taking more and more of him with each forward movement.

Kurt's hands flex repeatedly, but he diligently keeps them off of you, a task he decides he vehemently hates. The man is never not touching you when you're together, not even in a sexual way, he just loves to have his hands on you.

You continue sucking him off alternating between slow drags and faster bobbing. It's driving him nuts, the sounds spilling from his parted lips telling you everything you need to know. His moans are breathy and sometimes border on whines as they fall on your ears like your favorite song. Only once his legs threaten to buckle beneath him do you let the teasing stop and focus on making him cum. It doesn't take long, you've pushed all the right buttons to get him properly worked up and when you swirl your tongue against the spot just below the tip that always sets him off he spills into your mouth with a groan. He has to grab your shoulder to stay upright as you work him through his orgasm. When you're confident you've swallowed all evidence of his release you finally pull off of him. There's that dopey post-orgasm look of his you love so much.

"I love watching you fall apart you know." You smile as he takes a very shaky deep breath. 

"Not touching you is really hard." He huffs out making you laugh.

"Feeling alright my love?" You ask him.

"I- uh- I feel unsteady."

"Well! Luckily, I have a solution for that." You tug his arm with enough force to pull him to his knees in front of you. "Addendum, it's technically not a solution, more accurate would be luckily I don't need you on your feet for this next bit." You smile.

"This next bit?"

"You said not touching me is really hard. Well now you get to touch me. I wanna see your pretty face buried between my legs."

"Well you definitely don't have to ask me twice." Kurt says, pushing up the skirt of your dress until your panties are visible. He tugs them quickly down your legs and settles between your thighs with his hands resting on them.

"God you are perfect." He practically sighs before taking one long lick of your cunt. He groans at the taste before diving in fully. Kurt's tongue is eager against you, lapping up your juices, circling your clit, thrusting in and out of your center. He eats you out like a man starved, and your fingers thread through his hair has he does so.

"Fuck, Kurt, you're so good at this." You moan, grinding against his face. Kurt pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. He continues to rub the outside of said leg as he does all your favorite tricks with his tongue and you continue to moan and shower him with praise. 'I love you's and 'god that feels good's break up your cacophony of moans and groans. You arch towards him when he fucks you with his tongue, squeeze your legs around his head when he draws tight circles against your clit, and grind into his mouth when he slurps up your juices.

When he glances up at you and your eyes meet, you can barely stand the intensity of his gaze. He's looking at you as if his plan is to devour you from head to toe and nothing is more important than doing exactly that in this moment.

"You are so fucking hot Kurt." You sigh. Kurt groans deep in his throat and the vibrations make you gasp briefly. You pull at his hair and it makes him groan again. When you start releasing a string of curses Kurt focuses all his ministrations on your clit, tight circles that are sure to push you to the edge and over it rather quickly.

"Holy FUCK!" You groan as your orgasm hits. Kurt continues to tongue at your pussy until the aftershocks pass. You drop your leg from his shoulder making Kurt lean back.

"God I love you." Kurt says kissing your knee.

"I love you too my darling." You say smiling at him as you try to fix his hair a bit. You look over your shoulder to check your makeup in the vanity mirror.

"That- was definitely worth being late for." Kurt hums and you laugh.

"I'm glad you agree. And look at that, my lipstick still looks perfect." You muse.

"That would be one hell of an advertisement actually." Kurt chuckles.

"Definitely." You say putting on your earrings and necklace. Kurt stands and tucks himself back into his trousers. You grab a wet wipe from one of the drawers at your vanity and stand up, taking a moment to clean off Kurt's face.

"I was planning to clean that up myself ya know." Kurt says.

"I'm not going anywhere, you're welcome to more later." You wink.

"I will take you up on that." He says.

"Later my love, we should get going." You say. You give him a quick kiss and take his hand, leading him out of your room so you're not any later to this party.

***

[beef-brisket]

Adam groaned as he tried to reposition himself. The cage floor was about as comfortable as he remembered.

The room was eerily silent. Only Adam's breathing could be heard. His body still ached from the blood, letting Seth do to him. Thankfully, his chest was mostly fine.

He wasn't sure how long he had been here. It felt like weeks, but each passing second, Adam missed Lucifer more and more.

At least with him ruling Hell, Adam shouldn't be able to do anything that'll put him in danger.

Adam: Or ruin his life... I'm such a fucking idiot... s-should of let him kill me in that basement...

Michael: Already with the self-pity? Oh, Adam. You haven't even been here for a day yet! Though, it is fun watching you struggle~.

Adam jumped when Michael started talking. He looked out into the room but couldn't see anything. The darkness was too thick.

Michael: I, for one, am glad you're still alive. After thousands and thousands of years of watching you abuse your power, I finally get to see you at your weakest, your most pathetic. Which was a very low bar for you to reach, by the way. You could have benefited Heaven, Adam. If only you didn't get on your high horse when that offer was made to you.

Adam groaned as his shoulders started cramping: I-I'd never would have said yes to you-.

Michael laughed: And there's that pride again. Even when you're nothing but a useless ape, you still think you're better than us. Do you know my official title, Adam?

Adam: I don't give a fuck.

Michael: I am the Right Hand and Sword of God. The Greatest Enemy of Hell. I protect Heaven from all dangers, and that would usually include you, but look at you. Captured by Satan of all demons and humiliated by a sinner. Ha! Even my father couldn't write something so hilarious!

Adam: ...The fuck do you want with me?

Michael: Hm. Good question. Retribution. Have fun, Adam. I will return shortly~.

Adam squinted as a bright light filled the room. It was only for a few seconds, but it was strong enough to blind him long after the light had died out.

The cell's door creaked open, but by the time Adam registered it, there was a hard kick to his face.

Adam: F-Fuck...

Raphael: Easy, you almost broke his jaw.

Cas: Like I give a shit.

Raphael rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. A chair appeared in the far corner of the cell. Sitting down, Raphael smiled at Adam.

Raphael: Don't mind me, I'm here to heal you. Wouldn't want you dying yet, would we?

Adam heart clenched. He never thought he'd be terrified of Heaven's healer. But here he was.

Cas: That would really ruin the fun, but-.

Adam gasped as the angel grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back.

Cas: It would be a sight to watch your corpse he paraded around the streets of Heaven~. Who knows, maybe we'll do that while you're still kicking.

Raphael: Please do, we don't need the smell of death polluting the streets again.

Cas rolled their eyes and dropped Adam, unfolding his wings. They made sure to stand where Adam could see them.

Cas: Do you know how many angels you've killed? The destruction you've caused? With that fucking axe of yours?!

Raphael: Language~.

Cas: Seriously? I'm about to torture a dude.

Raphael: Hm. Fair enough, continue.

Adam: Y-You captured me- locked me away- I wanted to fucking leave.

Cas was silent for a moment before looking at Raphael: Oh, so he can swear, but I can't?

Raphael: He's Adam. Who cares about him?

Cas rolled their eyes. Adam winced as they snapped their fingers, and an axe appeared in their hands.

Cas: Oooh FUCK yeah-! Such my ass, Raph, I. Swearing while I do this. Recognise it, Addy~?

Adam jumped as the axe slammed into the floor next to his head.

Cas: I can see why you liked this thing so much! How many have you killed with it? How many have you ruined? But you don't need an axe to do that, do you?

Cas knelt down in front of Adam's face and leant against the axe that was buried into the floor.

Cas: You're the worst of us, you know that? Worse than every sinner in Hell, worse than the commander of our army. I'm honestly surprised you didn't turn this thing on yourself!

Raphael: Oh, now that would have been funny! Hunting you for so long, only to find you with your axe embedded in your chest!

Cas: Exactly what was thinking!

Adam stayed silent as Cas grabbed the axe and pulled it from the floor. He could hear the angel walking around the cage. What Adam didn't expect was a sickening pain shooting through his arm and back.

His ears were ringing, and warmth flooded through him in the worst way. He's not a stranger to pain, but dealing with his weakened state and his body trying and begging to run from the pain was something horribly new.

Adam could hear the angels talking and was that laughter?

His whole body lurched, his muscles tensed, trying to fight for an escape. His mouth watered, drool mixed with tears he didn't know he was shedding.

Cas: Don't heal him, not yet.

As his eyes slowly started to focus, he weakly watched Cas kneel in front of him, but something else was in his hand other than his axe.

Cas: Look, bud! You're waving!

Adam would feel sick, but it felt like his whole body froze as Cas smiled and waved a disjointed arm in front of him. It looked so familiar but foreign at the same time.

He flexed his fingers, and he felt sick all over again. Only his right hand responded.

Cas: Hm, we don't want him running again, do we Raph?

Raphael chuckled: It was a real waste of resources, not to mention angels. We could all tell how much you loved killing them, Adam. It was... despicable. No, Cas. We don't want him running again.

Cas grinned and dropped Adam's arm. The bloody limb landed in front of his eyes. Adam wanted to watch Cas, but he couldn't. His ears throbed as the sound of his axe dragged along the cell floor released a piercing noise. He could only focus on the arm.

Over the next hour, Cas removed Adam's legs, taking at least three hits to cut through his femur. He doesn't know if it was mercy, but he left him with one arm. Maybe it was more of a joke than anything.

Even as his whole body was feeling nothing but blinding pain, Cas continued to insult him. Reading a letter from the new Devil that sounded so much like Lucifer. Demanding his death and his head as repayment for a life of hiding and fear Adam had forced him in to.

At first, he thought it was fake. He wished it was fake. But Raphael was turning a black ring around in his fingers. Adam recognized it immediately. It was Lucifer's ring.

Even now, he hopes it is a trick. A trick that made him cry till he had no tears left.

He didn't acknowledge any angel that came in. Only Raphael was a constant presence. He healed his wounds but only to the point where he stopped bleeding. And he only started to heal him when Adam was starting to lose consciousness.

Adam wasn't sure how much time had passed. All he knew was that his skin and the cage floor were soaked in his golden blood. His had long gone hard and cold, drying and clumping together on his skin. The feeling only added to his frustration.

He heard another voice enter the room, but he couldn't focus on it, even if he tried. But he did recognise it.

Michael.

Maybe he was he was here to end him. It would be mercy at this point. He couldn't beg Lucifer for pity, not after everything he's done to him, not after those letters. And the ring Raphael didn't even have the courtesy to show him.

He was speaking to someone, though Adam couldn't completely focus on what he was saying.

Michael: He was meant to be an angel... oh, please, he's a fool. He wasn't even meant to be created. It was only by accident that his soul went to earth... I don't care what he is now or what realm he's ruling. He's nothing... powerful, yes. He nearly gained his true form when he had this fool raided Heaven thirty plus years ago... True. Now leave me, I have a guest to see to~.

Was he talking about Lucifer? He had to be. He was the new Devil, so it would make sense. And if what Cas read was true, Lucifer wasn't communicating about him, which stung.

Michael: My my. Look at you. Looking a bit light, aren't you~?

Adam couldn't respond, only being reminded of the situation again.

Michael: Raphael. Leave.

Raphael looked hesitant, but he walked out without saying another word.

Adam screamed as Michael kicked him, pushing him onto his back, and his missing arm and the deep cut into his back.

Michael: I know about you, Adam. About your little... affliction. And, now that you're officially divorced-.

It happened so quickly, and the next thing he knew, his wedding ring was pulled off his finger and thrown somewhere in the cell.

Michael: You're free to fuck around~. Well, not that you have a choice. This is what you were made for.

Adam wanted to kick Michael away as he pulled off his pants off.

Michael: You must be begging for it at this point! And you're lucky I'm so merciful~. It's not often someone gets an archangels cock~.

He wanted to beg for Lucifer, but he's doing better without him. He won't be able to hurt Lucifer from here.

He deserved the worst of whatever Heaven did to him.

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

[flyingwargle]

december fanfic recs!

the last collection of recs for 2024 are here! take a look at last year's monthly recs if you need more: november, october, september, august, july

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

All of My Pretty t. 6.1k. sakusa has a hidden affinity for make-up and feminine clothing but atsumu reacts negatively when he sees it dressed up. there's a happy ending however!! atsumu is a wholesome partner!!

MSBY Plays UNO m. 7.2k. exactly what the title is. sakuatsu don't break up because of uno, you don't have to worry about that.

The West of Your Spine t. 8.7k. sakusa discovers this atsumu has feelings for him when sakusa does not. augh. sakusa, you big idiot. lovely prose and imagery, as always from mcbeefy.

Roll On, Seventh Wheel t. 8.8k. atsumu realizes that everyone on msby has a crush on sakusa and he does what he does best: tell sakusa that he's better off with everyone else. so cute and endearing. <3

instabae m. 11.4k. komori needles sakusa into posting more on his insta and atsumu makes it his personal mission to take him around the city so to help him take photos. he catches feelings along the way. very cute and fluffy!

Such a Constellation Was He to Me e. 11.8k. sakusa has a bunch of tattoos and offers atsumu a closer look. THIS FIC!! brought me to my knees. it was so soft and tender, and the depiction of sakusa's tattoos was just...augh. my fic of the month.

know you better m. 14.3k. 6/6. atsumu and sakusa are ordered to get to know each other better after their disagreements interfere with their performance on the court. loved the gradual progression of enemies to friends to lovers and the balance of family and mental health issues shared between them.

YOUR BEST AMERICAN BOY t. 23.3k. an asian-american au featuring sakuatsu. as an asian-canadian, i was able to relate to this at a spiritual level. this was inspired by afflications for below-average asian-americans that's in atsumu's pov, which i also read a while back. it's a really niche but nuanced au, and i'm so happy that they exist.

more cock, fewer roaches. please. m. 30.8k. 2/2. sakusa learns that his neighbor down the street has bedbugs so he's getting his house fumigated and needs a place to stay. atsumu offers his guest bedroom and sakusa takes it, thus undergoing to mortifying realization that he likes atsumu. loved this!

standby m. 30.6k. 5/5. sakusa has a complicated relationship with food because of his neglectful parents. atsumu, the owner of onigiri miya, hopes to change that. a lovely slowburn with gut-wrenching descriptions.

sunaosa

on soundcloud, spotify, and first meetings with suna rintarou t. 3.1k. osamu sits behind suna in lecture and watches him make a new playlist on spotify every class, including the suggestive ones. very cute, i very much enjoyed it.

check the grin (you’re in love) t. 5.5k. suna hiccups when he lies, which is terrible since he can't lie that he likes osamu. very fluffy, lovely prose, and very cute <3

Capturing your portrait (and getting drawn into it) g. 22.9k. 6/6. the team is fed up with suna having embarrassing photos of everyone and seek revenge, tasking osamu to take an embarrassing photo of suna, except he falls in love during the process. very fluffy with amazing character dynamics.

iwaoi

i said, excuse me you’re a hell of a guy g. 5.4k. iwa always knew he had a crush on oikawa, but he knew he had a crush on oikawa when he heard him singing (read: rapping) in the shower. so cute and lovely!

bookmarks t. 6.4k. iwa works part-time at his university library and exchanges notes with a student that puts holds on books every week, T. O. very cute and endearing.

the sunlit alley g. 6.6k. iwa is an ao3 writer who deleted one of his works and sees oikawa's deranged tweets mourning its loss. i need this to happen to me in real life. when will i meet a devoted ao3 reader irl (the answer is never because i live in canada and no one lives in canada). very funny, one of my favorites this month!

ten years & a thousand mornings m. 15k. a beautiful ode to iwaoi's relationship through the mornings they have together in argentina and the mornings before then.

kagehina

Change of Plan(e)s g. 4.2k. queerplatonic kagehina for the soul! kageyama gets sick while traveling back home and hinata takes care of him. very comforting and fluffy.

conflict of interest t. 6.6k. kageyama and hinata's relationship is interpreted as bitter rivals when in fact, they're married. oh, my boys, they love each other so much, and the way they revealed their marriage was the best.

if it wasn't for you g. 13.1k. hinata texts kageyama to ask if he changed his life. kageyama responds with "hah?" an exploration of their relationship and eventual getting together. very cute!

other

the convergence of the aces g. bokuto and iwa friendship with side bokuaka and iwaoi. 4.1k. bokuto notices that iwa looks a lil lonely and befriends him. i love their friendship and how they were able to be with each other through their major milestones. a beautiful portrayal of male friendship <3

given t. 6.1k. tokyo cousins. komori's room tour goes viral after he reveals all the cursed gifts that sakusa got him, and msby4 finds the cursed gifts that komori gave him in return. familial love!! these two are so precious and the fic is hilarious. one of my favorites <3

the sky in my arms, the storm in my heart g. 7.5k. hinata-centric. a love letter to hinata and his time in brazil. on my hands and knees, i love this author so much, everything they write is gold and this made me tear up (i read this at work. do not recommend, read it at home so you can scream your heart out)

my love language is you t. 8k. bokuaka. no section for bokuaka this month, i'm sorry (i need to find more bkak fics). bokuto shows his affection for akaashi using the love languages. utterly adorable and fluffy.

Five Times Ushijima Wakatoshi Absolutely Lost His Shit g. 8.2k. ushiten. title. ushijima still keeps his stoic personality until he doesn't, and tendou is there to keep him together. very funny and sweet.

First Aid Kit m. 70.8k. 15/15. beautiful character study of tsukishima along with his blooming relationship with yamaguchi. beautiful prose and slow burn.

Blood In My Veins m. 77.9k. 21/21. kuroken. obligatory heart-wrenching kuroken fic of the month, this time with kuroo escaping his abusive ex to live in the city and befriend kenma, who has severe social anxiety. painful yet soft with a happy ending.

[justplainwhump]

Nobody is Coming

Bradley isn't picked up from school.

Both canon in the later arcs of Pet Safety and Angel, set shortly after Pirate Lady.

Content / warnings: Recovery, loss, the feeling of being left behind, implied parental neglect. An unlikely pair of hurt people maybe about to grow together. Implication of BBU setting.

Bradley was perched on the little stone wall by the school's music wing, his guitar case next to him. Class was over, but he wasn't going to be picked up.

"Your pet is never late," Mr Oliver, the music teacher, commented after a long stare at his watch.

Wrong on so many levels, Bradley thought. But he didn't say it. He didn't ask him to call Rosa by her name instead of her status, either. He had done so, hundreds of times. Stood up for her, or at least tried to. And she hadn't even turned around when she left him.

"She's not coming," Bradley said.

Mr Oliver frowned. "Well. Who is?"

Bradley shrugged. "Nobody."

"I'm going to call your Da-" He stopped with a sudden flush of redness burning on his cheeks. Bradley gritted his teeth. He'd internally dared him to say it out loud.

Dad. Dead. Mom. Refusing to answer her phone. Probably drunk on mimosas in some day spa. Sister. Ran off to California first chance she got. Rosa. Rosa. Left with a stranger without turning around.

"Nobody." Bradley repeated stoically.

"Well, I'm going to call someone to pick you up."

Bradley shrugged again. The police, he wondered. Social services?

"Isn't your uncle in town, too?"

Tim.

Bradley shot his teacher a long look. Was Mr Oliver the only one in town who hadn't excessively read every single detail about the drama that had left both his father and uncle killed?

"Dead," he said shortly.

"Aunt?"

I don't have an aunt, he wanted to say. But he did, he realized. Angelina. The woman his mother blamed for literally everything that had happened in the past horrible months. The one who 'destroyed the family'.

She hadn't, Bradley thought. Their family had been rotten within. Angelina had just brought all the rot to the surface.

His mother would hate it.

"Um." Bradley said. "Yeah. I guess."

He didn't have her mobile number, but he found a landline in Uncle Tim's contact.

Mr Oliver turned away as he called, but someone did seem to answer, because he started to quickly speak into the phone.

"She's coming," he said to Bradley, after he hung up. And then, with a sudden gravity to his voice, as if he'd just now realized that Bradley had indeed had some pretty not great weeks, he added "I'll wait here with you."

-

Twenty minutes late, Angelina Harris turned around the corner in Uncle Tim's sleek black Mercedes. When she got out, the wind played with her long blond hair, billowed into the light blue coat and exposed her white silk blouse and tight blue jeans.

Next to him, Mr Oliver sucked in some air. Bradley grimaced. Yeah. Some men did that, when they saw her.

"Ms Harris," he said and strode forward to clasp her hand between both his. "So sorry for your loss."

Angelina tilted her head politely, her mouth curved into a tiny, pained smile.

She was better at the act than himself, Bradley figured. Whenever someone offered him condolences he couldn't do anything else but shrug it off rudely.

He jumped from the wall and pushed himself and his guitar through them, breaking off his teacher's grasp of her hand.

"Thank you for waiting with me, Sir," he said. "My aunt has got it from here. Bye."

Almost embarrassed, Mr Oliver stepped back, as Bradley stowed his guitar on the back seat and slid onto the passenger seat.

Angelina got in at the same time, pulled the door shut, but didn't turn on the ignition.

Instead she turned over to face him, hands in her lap, one eyebrow raised.

"Do I?" She asked.

"What?"

"Have got it from here? It sure doesn't feel like it." She frowned. "Why me, Bradley?"

He didn't look her in the eyes. He tried to count the freckles on her cheeks instead. "Rosa left," he mumbled. "Everyone left."

"Why me? Your mother hates me. She-" Angelina paused, suddenly pale under her freckles. "Wait. What happened to Rosa? Did your mother do something? Did she send her -"

Bradley shook his head. "Mum doesn't even know yet, I think." He stared down at his fingers. "Rosa just walked out."

"Pets don't -"

"Call her Rosa," he snapped. "She's a person, the only person who ever -" Cared about me, he thinks. Loved me. But she didn't. He had seen what love looked like on Rosa's face, when the stranger rang at their door. She'd never loved him.

Something cool wrapped around his wrist and only belated did he realize it was Angelina's hand. "Don't." She said. "Don't hurt yourself."

Numbly he started at his knuckles. They hurt. A little blood welled up from a small cut. He'd punched the window.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Sorry, I-"

"Can you drive?"

The question was so strange, it stopped him from rocking in the seat.

"I'm fourteen," he said plainly.

"That's not what I asked."

"I'm not allowed to drive."

"Can you?"

He remembered hours on the parking lot of the closed convenience store, Sloane by his side, patiently guiding him. Their plan had been to take the care and just drive West steadily. Change drivers, when one of them would have to sleep, Sloane had explained. Get away from their parents influence as quickly as possible, and build up a new life somewhere else.

She'd done it, in the end. Without him.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I can."

"I can't," she said, just as plainly. "You drive us home."

"You got here, somehow."

"Barely." She dropped the key on his lap.

"It's illegal."

"Fuck the rules." She seemed startled herself by her words, but also somewhat... delighted.

Stunned, Bradley took the keys.

They didn't get out to change seats. On some silent agreement, she slid over onto the passenger seat under him, before he shifted to the driver's seat.

"Rules that only enforce oppression need to be broken." She bit her lip, and the matter seemed to important to her, that Bradley didn't see fit to tell her that traffic rules had been implemented to safe lives. It probably wasn't the point here. "Rosa broke your mom's rules and I hope she found freedom." She looked at him from clear brown eyes, a stare so intense that he couldn't break free. "She broke your rules, too, Bradley, didn't she? But if she's a person, as you say, and as I think she is, too, these rules ate wrong. Have been wrong, for all your lifetime. The rules were her prison. And she left it."

Her smile was soft. "It's good that you called me. You were wrong, thinking that I've got it from here. But I think I'm a step closer to figuring it out."

She didn't say So are you.

He heard it anyway. And maybe, she was right.

"Tell me where we're going," he said, and turned the key in the ignition.

Angelina leaned back in her seat, squinted at the blue afternoon sky.

"The sea," she suggested. "What about that?"

Bradley smiled.

[typicalopposite]

Congratulations on 500! I'm so lucky to have met you this year Saint Rebecca of the mpreg 🤣🥰 my prompt for you:

Buck and Tommy both found out they were pregnant post break up and kept it a secret until they run into each other at prenatal yoga (or childbirth class...something like that)

Hannnnnah! You are the sweetest! And I will forever be grateful to have met you too!! But you had my brain doing a workout for this one :) but I hope you enjoy it

Double Trouble

Maddie picks Buck up thirty minutes early so they can stop at ‘Galactic Holes’— the donut truck that parks outside the building— before their Prenatal Class. She had wrangled him into coming with her to the classes when he finally open up about his pregnancy; even if she didn’t always agree with his insistence to not tell Tommy, it was nice to get some bonding time with his big sister as both of their pregnancies progressed. 

They walk through the door, eating the last few bites of their donuts, and Buck scans the room for an empty table. There’s one in the back corner, and he nudges Maddie towards it as they say their hellos to the other parents-to-be attending. Everyone is friendly enough, albeit extremely nosey, but that’s expected in group settings like this. A single expectant father who isn’t willing to give much, if any, information about the other parent is bound to cause whispers among anyone… At least they keep the whispers quiet enough he never hears them. 

*

The class starts with some discussion of everyone’s current pregnancy stages, some stretches since they will be mostly seated today, and a handout to help everyone write down a detailed birth plan. Maddie has whispered more than once how boring today’s class is and Buck has repeatedly agreed. 

Then in an instant everything becomes extremely interesting… to say the least.

The door pushes open and someone walks in. Buck doesn’t look up at first, busy filling out exactly how he plans to labor when the time comes. “Sorry I’m late… I was given the wrong address,” a voice that’s all too familiar says from the front of the room. 

“Oh that’s fine,” the teacher says. “How did you learn about the class?”

“A friend pretty much insisted I come…” the voice— he— Tommy… says with a half hearted laugh. Buck still hasn’t found the willpower to look up. “She said it would be… beneficial.” 

“How far along are you?” Someone else in the class asks. 

“Uh… thirty— thirty six weeks,” Tommy says, and Buck’s head snaps up, making Maddie shift in the seat next to him, and Tommy’s eyes immediately lock onto his. 

Thirty six weeks. 

Buck is thirty. 

Buck knows he had to have gotten pregnant very close to their anniversary, which means… Tommy was pregnant long before then. Did he know when he—

“Oh wow,” one of the other members— Caroline— says loudly; dramatically. “You really waited till the end to reap those benefits huh?” 

Buck watches Tommy hastily break his eyes away to look at her, he offers a smile. “Better late than never, right?” He shrugs and finds a single empty seat up front. Instantly Buck watches as Caroline leans over to one of the others and starts whispering. He watches Tommy glance over at them then down at his hands, seeming to shrink himself into his seat. Part of him feels like yelling for the gossipers to worry about their own lives, part of him is as curious as he’s sure they are. Mostly he is just hurt… but he didn’t tell Tommy about his own pregnancy, can he really be upset at Tommy?

“Wow…” Maddie finally exhales beside him. 

“Yeah…” Buck says, suddenly completely uninterested in the birth plan he currently was making up. “Wow…” 

MAKE ME WRITE! <3

[tenwhiteandalusians]

and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.