#hmm this might be more serious than i thought

[ragh-barks]

ragh, ragh barkrock? friends with you and the bad kids?

Hm? I found this app on my Crystal? Why do I follow these people, who are any of you? It’s- what the fuck, what year is it???

[romance-rambles]

godheim clarence | because it's you

On a seemingly normal day, as he's braiding your hair in the morning, your husband asks you if he should cut his hair. You try to be brave about it.

1.6k, post-clarence epilogue, misunderstandings + fluff, reader is mc, series: none

"SHALL I CUT MY HAIR short too?"

You register your husband's words as a joke at first. Why would you not? It flows so seamlessly from your own, after all—about how he might actually thank you for freeing up his time in the mornings if you chop off your long hair.

You know full well Clarence will not.

It is not enough to prevent you from chasing after your favorite kind of high. The one where he huffs exasperatedly and tells you as much, as a lovely but faint scarlet hue spreads across his cheek. The one that leaves you with the singleminded desire to kiss him, which you waste no time in doing—because you can.

So, expecting to see a hint of mirth in his blue eyes, you roll your eyes and watch him through the vanity's mirror with an unfaltering grin.

There is none.

Instead, the mirror reflects only the almost clumsy seriousness you've come to expect in his endeavors to prove himself worthy of being your husband. It is both flattering and worrying.

And sometimes, it makes you wonder if you were too harsh on him in the early days of your time together in the void, when you demanded apology after apology from him. Then, you remember that he's the same man who catches fishes only to free them in the end—and that this is simply sort of endearing idiot he is.

It helps immensely.

"Would you like to?" you ask carefully, concealing your silent insults with a half-awkward smile.

You would not like him to.

But it is rare for Clarence to express an interest in his appearance outside of what you make of it. His most frequently worn coat is the one you once complimented him, under a brightly-lit street lamp as he wrapped his scarf around you instead. He always buys the same fragrance, and only when it runs out, with a polite explanation of My wife likes this one the most that drives most merchants mad.

The only response he's ever offered when shopping for clothes is: If you like it, I'm fine with wearing it.

Biting back a scowl, you add, "I think you'd look good with short hair."

Of course he would. Even putting aside his hairstyle when he was younger, your husband is handsome enough to pull anything off.

You are, of course, very biased—it's an accusation you've never tried to deny.

"I see." With a pleased hum, Clarence ties off your braid. "Then I'll pick out a date. Would you like to come along?"

He's careful to adjust the hair tie first, concealing any stubborn tufts hair poking through between the gaps before he reaches for your usual red ribbon. Then, with a practiced ease that comes only with years' worth of repetition, he loops it through the hair tie and twists into a proper bow.

Today, you cannot find it in yourself to admire his careful movements through the mirror.

"I'm never going to hear the end of it if I do that," you answer, shuddering a little at the thought. The people at this village are mostly kind, but a few of the louder ones tend to comment on Clarence's tendencies a bit too frequently for your liking. "You remember what happened last time, don't you?"

Your fingers traverse down the full length of your neatly-braided hair to pull it over your shoulder. Their grasp on the end of it lasts for only a second before your hand falls to the edge of your stool. Gulping, you swivel around and soon find yourself properly face to face with your husband.

He smiles faintly. "In a sense, they weren't wrong."

To properly hold onto his face, you have to scoot closer to the edge. Clarence bends down slightly, further easing the burden on your arms. Your eyes narrow fondly at him before you ruin the moment by smushing his cheeks.

"They were insulting you," you correct him, indignation fueling your flat tone. "I'd say they were very wrong."

His expression grows helpless and fond. Wrapping his hands around your own, he settles down onto the hardwood floor. In doing so, he ignores your chiding entirely; instead, he looks at you with a hint of reverence in his gaze.

"Perhaps," Clarence agrees softly. "I've heard worse."

Inhaling sharply, you press your foreheads together. When you next speak up, your tone is softer. "Do you have a cut in mind?"

"The same as it was when I was younger, I suppose," he says, sounding a bit uncertain.

You do your best approximation of a nod. You're not entirely certain what brought this on, but that won't stop you from being the most supportive wife to ever be supportive. As you squeeze his hands gently, you hope he can sense your resolve.

"Alright," you say, a bit forcefully, as you press a kiss to his forehead. "—now get off the floor. It's my turn to do your hair."

IT'S WHEN YOU'RE CAREFULLY UNTANGLING your braid at night that you remember the conversation from that morning.

"Did you decide on a date?" you ask curiously.

Clarence hums. "I didn't get the chance to quite yet."

He's watching you from his side of the bed, both hands occupied by a book he stopped reading the moment you walked in after your nighttime routine. When you shake your hair back to normal and settle under the blankets, he wordlessly turns the lamps off, with only a flick of his hand.

Accepting his answer, you snuggle up against his chest, fully intent on going to sleep—

Except you can't.

Curiosity nags at you, offering you the same question over and over again in the hopes that you'll break. And break you do as you call out your husband's name.

You can't quite make out what his expression is, but you know he isn't asleep. It's only been a few years—just a little over a decade, to be precise—since they've reunited. Adjusting to a life within the bounds of time, you know, takes some time, especially for someone like Clarence who had seemingly outgrown the need to sleep even before he entered the nothingness.

"Clarence," you whisper, "what made you want to cut your hair?"

For a moment, he remains silent. You can hear his beating heart, and that is enough to let you know that he's flustered.

"Clarence?"

"You said I looked very handsome," he says finally. "The other day."

Upon hearing those words, your mind offers you nothing noteworthy. To you, calling your husband handsome is no different making sure your heart's intact. You think you might actually die if you don't tell him, but you haven't tested it before.

Your heart, however, is filled to the brim with affection for this man, the one you've searched nearly your entire life for.

Even if you do want to throttle him a little bit.

"You'll have to be more specific, dear," you tell him, gently touching his cheek. He's warm, you think. You're tempted to turn the lights back on. "I'm sure I say that every day. And why would that make you want to cut your hair?"

Clearing his throat, he adds, "To be more specific, you didn't say it to me necessarily. You were—" Clarence pauses, a hint of uncertainty to his next words. "—talking about my younger self."

Oh.

The gears in your head start to turn. Now, you can faintly recall the memory of you waxing poetically about the man whose image remains in use on one of the most popular and frequently sold-out stamps even now, centuries later. Mostly, you remember smiling through a comment about how carefully you must've chosen your husband—as if she hadn't pressured into picking a man other than your husband to gush about.

You would've chosen the Archmage who seemingly had no relation to your husband regardless, but it would've been nice to know ahead of time.

Because you do have eyes, Eliza. That's how you know there isn't a man alive that's more attractive than Clarence.

Still, there hadn't been any deeper meaning when you chose his younger self specifically. There'd been a stamp nearby and you'd used it as a reference, in the hopes that it would help the other ladies downplay your incredible knowledge of his features.

You're almost certain they think you're deranged.

"Clarence." You giggle, suddenly amused. "Clarence. You look very handsome today."

Clumsily, you press a loving kiss to his forehead. Then, to the mole under his eye, to the tip of his nose, to his other cheek, until finally, you kiss him on the lips. At some point, while you're busy being productive, he goes from laying on his side to laying on his back.

"What brought this on?"

He sounds bewildered. You think it's cute.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you begin to explain. Throughout, he's mostly silent, save for the occasional acknowledgement. Still, you don't have to worry about whether he's listening or not.

Until the very end, his hands—still wrapped around you—give him away.

"I like your long hair just as much, because—" You give him another peck on the lips. "—I love you. No matter what, you're always the best-looking man in the room."

Clarence wastes no time in answering you, though he very nearly chokes on his words. "And I...you."

"Good." Feeling satisfied, you rest your head against his chest. "Do you still want to cut your hair? ...Clarence?"

"I think," he says, clearing his throat. "It's fine the way it is."

You don't try to point out why.

[luna-azzurra]

Body Language Cheat Sheet For Writers 

╰ Facial expressions

These are your micro-signals, like the blinking neon signs of the soul. But they’re small, quick, and often lie harder than words.

Raised eyebrows — This can mean surprise or disbelief, sure. But it can also be a full-on, silent “Are you serious right now?” when someone’s being ridiculous. Or even curiosity when someone’s too emotionally repressed to askthe damn question.

Furrowed brow — That face people make when they’re doing long division in their head or trying to emotionally process a compliment. It’s thinking, yes—but also confusion, deep frustration, or quiet simmering rage.

Smiling — Can be happiness… or total fake-it-till-you-make-it energy. Some smiles are stiff. Some don’t reach the eyes. Show that.

Frowning — Sure, sadness. But also: disappointment, judgment, or the universal “I’m about to say something blunt, brace yourself.”

Lip biting — It’s not just nervousness, it’s pressure. Self-control. Anticipation. It’s the thing people do when they want to say something and decide, at the last second, not to.

╰ Eye movement

The window to the soul? Yeah. But also the window to when someone’s lying, flirting, or deeply trying not to cry in public.

Eye contact — Confidence or challenge. Eye contact can be gentle, curious, sharp like a blade. Sometimes it’s desperate: “Please understand me.”

Avoiding eye contact — Not always guilt. Sometimes it’s protectiveness. Sometimes it’s “I’m afraid if I look at you, you’ll see everything I’m trying to hide.”

Narrowed eyes — Calculating. Suspicious. The look someone gives when their brain’s saying “hmmm...” and it’s not a good hmm.

Wide eyes — Surprise, yes. But also sudden fear. The oh-God-it’s-happening look. Or when someone just found out they’re not as in control as they thought.

Eye roll — Classic. But try using it with tension, like when someone’s annoyed and trying very hard not to lose it in public.

╰ Gestures

This is where characters’ emotions go when their mouths are lying.

Crossing arms — Not just defensive. Sometimes it’s comfort. A self-hug. A barrier when the conversation is getting too personal.

Fidgeting — This is nervous energy with nowhere to go. Watch fingers tapping, rings spinning, sleeves tugged. It says: I’m not okay, but I’m trying not to show it.

Pointing — It’s a stab in the air. Aggressive, usually. But sometimes a desperate plea: Look. Understand this.

Open palms — Vulnerability. Honesty. Or a gesture that says, “I have nothing left to hide.”

Hand on chin — Not just thinking. It’s stalling. It’s delaying. It’s “I’m about to say something that might get me in trouble.”

╰ Posture and movement

These are your vibes. How someone occupies space says everything.

Slumped shoulders — Exhaustion. Defeat. Or someone trying to take up less space because they feel small.

Upright posture — Not always confidence. Sometimes it’s forced. Sometimes it’s a character trying really, really hard to look like they’re fine.

Pacing — Inner chaos externalized. Thinking so loudly it needs movement. Waiting for something. Running from your own thoughts.

Tapping foot — Tension. Irritation. Sometimes a buildup to an explosion.

Leaning in — Intimacy. Interest. Or subtle manipulation. (You matter to me. I’m listening. Let’s get closer.)

╰ Touch

This is intimacy in all its forms, comforting, protective, romantic, or invasive.

Hugging — Doesn’t always mean closeness. Could be a goodbye. Could be an apology they can’t say out loud. Could be awkward as hell.

Handshake — Stiff or crushing or slippery. How someone shakes hands says more than their words do.

Back patting — Casual warmth. Bro culture. Awkward emotional support when someone doesn’t know how to comfort but wants to try.

Clenched fists — Holding something in. Rage, tears, restraint. Fists mean tension that needs somewhere to go.

Hair tuck — Sure, flirtation or nerves. But also a subtle shield. A way to hide. A habit from childhood when someone didn’t want to be seen.

╰ Mirroring:

If two characters start syncing their body language, something is happening. Empathy. Chemistry. Shared grief. If someone shifts their body when the other does? Take notice. Other human bits that say everything without words...

Nodding — Not just yes. Could be an “I hear you,” even if they don’t agree. Could be the “keep going” nod. Could be patronizing if done too slow.

Crossed legs — Chill. Casual. Or closed-off, depending on context. Especially if their arms are crossed too.

Finger tapping — Time is ticking. Brain is pacing. Something’s coming.

Hand to chest — Sincerity, yes. But also shock. Or grounding—a subconscious attempt to stay present when everything feels like too much.

Tilting the head — Curiosity. Playfulness. Or someone listening so hard they forget to hide it.

Temple rub — “I can’t deal.” Could be physical pain. Could be stress. Could be emotional overload in disguise.

Chin stroking — Your classic “I’m judging you politely.” Often used in arguments between characters pretending to be calm.

Hands behind the back — Authority. Control. Or rigid fear masked as control.

Leaning body — This is the body betraying the brain. A tilt toward someone means they care—even if their words are cold.

Nail biting — Classic anxiety. But also habit. Something learned. Sometimes people bite because that’s how they self-soothe.

Squinting — Focusing. Doubting. Suspicion without confrontation.

Shifting weight — Uncomfortable. Unsure. Someone who wants to leave but doesn’t.

Covering the mouth — Guilt. Hesitation. The “should I say this?” moment before something big drops.

Body language is more honest than dialogue. If you really want to show your character’s internal world, don’t just give them lines. Give them a hand that won’t stop shaking. Give them a foot that won’t stop bouncing. Give them a mouth that smiles when their eyes don’t. And if you’re not sure what your character would do in a moment of fear, or love, or heartbreak, try acting it out yourself. Seriously. Get weird. Feel what your body does. Then write that down.

[allllium]

Comfort

~ Some Sappy Jason Todd x Reader

~ Playing with Jason's Hair

~ Fluff, a little overthinking, WC: 981

- You play with Jason's Hair -

You are usually very good at understanding things about your boyfriend, Jason. It took you no time at all to find about his nightly activities and everything about his family. But on the other hand, you can't seem to understand him at all.

You've tried not to ask him about certain things because based on hints from his family, he's had some bad shit happen in his life.

However, the more questions you don't ask, the more that seem to pop up.

You haven't asked him why sometimes he flinches away when you touch him but other times he leans in.

You haven't asked him why his hands make fists when you're trying to sleep at night.

You haven't asked him about the scar along his chest or his aversion to certain foods.

All because you're too scared to make him uncomfortable, or maybe because you don't know if you could stomach it.

You're laying bed and waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. Somehow, you take less time getting ready for bed than he does. You suspect it's because he needs a couple minutes to process everything that happened during the day.

As usual you have a million thoughts running through you're head all at the same time. 99% of them are about him.

When he finally comes into your shared bedroom and gets comfortable in bed, you're debating whether or not to talk to him about some of the things you can't get out of your mind.

You decide against it. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable or bring up any bad memories that might affect his ability to sleep through the night.

He can obviously sense your unease, you don't hide it very well.

"What's wrong?" His raspy voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Nothing, sweetheart." You try to play it off.

"Uh huh." He says blankly.

"I'm just thinking about things, is that a crime?"

"Depends on what they are." He pulls you closer to him and wraps his arms around you.

"Nothing bad."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"If someone's bothering you, you should tell me."

"Why is that?"

"Well I have an ability of getting rid of people."

"Oh my God Jason you can't joke about that." You look at him in amused shock.

"Who says it's a joke?" He asks, face completely serious.

"Okay no killing people on my behalf." You chuckle and he copies. "I'm just trying to figure you out more."

"Why?"

"Cuz I want to know more about you?"

"Like what"

"Right now I want to know what you want." You pull away from him in order to sit up a little bit.

"I don't want anything at the moment."

"Yes you do. If you didn't want anything your fists wouldn't be clenched and your eyes wouldn't have that look. Like you want to say something but can't."

"You really want to know?" He asks.

"Yeah I really do." You immediately reply.

"A couple months ago while we were watching a movie on the couch, you played with my hair and it was very comforting. And the best sleep I've ever had."

"That's it? I've been driving myself crazy trying to think of explanations and you're telling me you just want me to play with your hair." You question him in disbelief. It's been months of overthinking thoughts and random mind rampages for something you haven't even noticed you were doing.

"I didn't know how to say it." He shrugs, not looking into your eyes. "It sounds childish."

"No it doesn't. Everyone has different ideas of perfect comfort and I happen to agree with yours. Jason, if you want something from me all you have to do is ask."

You lean over to give him a quick, sweet kiss.

"I'm not used to that."

"Well you better get started."

"Fine, would you play with hair so I can go to sleep, Angel?"

"Only because you asked so nicely."

It takes a second for you both to get rearranged so it's comfortable. You're now laying on your back with Jason half on his side, half on top of you with his head on your chest.

It's almost amusing how quickly he falls asleep but above all else you feel a sense of pride at the fact that you're the one giving him this feeling.

He said this was comforting. He said this was the best sleep he's ever had.

And you're the reason he's having these things.

You stay up longer than you probably should have. This time the thoughts running through your head aren't worrying or overwhelming.

They make you happy. Happy enough to fall into a very sound sleep.

You wake up to coffee on your nightstand and a missing Jason.

"Jason." You call out and he quickly comes running.

When he walks in the room, you immediately begin questioning him.

"What is this?" You ask with an ounce of suspicion. You're worried it's a repayment of some sort.

"It's coffee. A hot caffeinated drink."

"Why?"

"Because you like it and it makes you irritable for far less time in the morning."

"Jason you don't have to do things for me just because I did something for you."

"Yes I do. Because words won't let me explain how grateful I am for you."

"Since when are you so sappy?"

He sits on the bed next to you.

"Don't be mean to me right now, I'll take it away."

"Fine. Continue your speech."

"I know it's a small thing for you but I haven't felt comfort like you give me in a very long time. Maybe even ever. And I need you to know that."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to give that to you."

The next thing you know, you both have giant grins on your faces and you're both happier than ever before.

[angelsknifeprty]

imagine being loved by me . ۫ ꣑ৎ . - e.w

jackson!ellie x reader | 4.1k words

a/n: hiiii! i'm kinda nervous, this is my first time posting something smutty >.< i hope i did a good job, enjoy!

cw: nsfw, afab reader, cursing, smoking weed, they're both high but everything is completely consensual, nipple play (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), two idiots high as fuck and desperately in love ghhhfhgfj

summary: your relationship with ellie is a recent development, at the point now of teetering on the edge of the deep end, so close to becoming something more serious for you both. with the help of a some maybe a little too much weed and how irritatingly good she looks in that grey hoodie of hers, you might just take that plunge.

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

you knew it was a bad idea, to let yourself get this high with ellie. you’d done this so many times before, truly abusing the gift that was accidentally stumbling into eugene’s old weed den while out on patrol together once. but back then you were just friends, two lumbering idiots excited over this newfound high that had you both giggling until you gasped for air. now things are different.

your relationship was still new, its legs still a little shaky like those of a newborn fawn. but being with ellie started to feel as easy as breathing the longer you spent together, slowly but surely figuring out what that transition from friends to lovers meant for the both of you.

“do you want any more?” ellie asked through stifled coughs, extending out her hand that held the lit joint. through a lot of trial and error, you had figured out what your threshold was and tended not to push that limit, your mind already sinking into that floaty headspace you loved so much.

despite this you hummed in thought for a moment, your reddened eyes shifting to ellie lazily leaning against the outside wall of her garage. she was wearing that grey hoodie that made your jaw clench every time you saw her in it, how she made something so simple look so good was unknown to you. you certainly weren’t complaining though.

“hmm… you know what? sure,” you shrug before reaching for the joint, because who are you to say no when she looks like that? you feel that familiar pang in your stomach when your fingers brush against hers. you almost laugh out loud at how pathetic it feels to still react to her this way, not yet fully wrapping your head around the fact that she’s actually yours. 

you get lost in the fluidity of well-trained muscle memory, passing the joint back and forth. and before you know it you’re getting that rush of fuzziness in your brain that brings out that dopey smile of yours and giggles with no particular cause.

ellie looks at you with an amused smile, noticing the adorably dumb look in your glossy eyes. 

“you okay, baby?” she chuckles as she observes you in your blissed-out state. you hum contently, the sound of that name rolling so perfectly off of her tongue, nodding enthusiastically in response.

her tolerance is a lot higher than yours, which you always complained to her about as if she could transfer the trait to you, so she was enjoying the entertainment of you being high out of your mind.

“y’look so pretty, els,” you sigh, ellie’s chest tightening at the way you’re looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

“really?” she huffs out a laugh, “i look like shit.” she gives herself a once-over, her hair a little messy from a busy day in jackson and her comfort hoodie thrown carelessly over her clothes.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, unable to fathom how she could look anything other than devastatingly gorgeous right now. 

“nooo, shit looks like you!” you say in a poor attempt to rebuke her statement, your befuddled condition making you fumble your words.

“oh wow, so you do agree?”

“no, no, no, wait! i messed up what i was saying-”

“uh huh, sure. c’mon, let’s get you inside, dork.”

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

things were peaceful for a while, the two of you in a cosy embrace on ellie’s bed as she reread one of her favourite savage starlight comics. you were draped across her chest, mindlessly glancing at the pages, entertained by the colourful art but not quite absorbing any of the plot.

you then make the mistake of looking up at ellie, cheek squishing against her shoulder as you admire her. your gaze flowed down the outline of her side profile like a water droplet. it started at her forehead, a place you so often left tender kisses upon. it beads down between her scarred brows, which you thought made her look so frustratingly cool, trickling across the freckled slope of her nose where it then drops off of the tip, leaving your focus right where her lips are.

your stomach flutters; the only thing your brain can focus on is how badly you want to kiss her. she wasn’t even doing anything purposefully enticing, but she didn’t have to for you to lose your mind.

ellie could feel your watchful orbs practically burning holes through her, unable to keep herself from looking back at you any longer.

“see something interesting?” ellie startles you a little as she breaks the silence, rapidly blinking at her as you regain your bearings.

“hmm… interesting is one way to describe it.” your voice has a lilt to it, the sound light and a little shy. ellie thinks you’re so precious.

“whatcha lookin’ at, pretty?” she pries, enjoying it maybe a little too much as she watches you fumble at the question, eyes darting between anywhere else in the room and what you were truly captivated by: her lips.

“ellieee…” you whine, moving so your face is hidden in her neck. your breath fans over her skin in a warm gust, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she swallows thickly. fuck.

“c’mon, i know you want something.” she’s purposefully trying to rile you up, placing the bookmark you made for her between the pages of her comic, and tossing it to the side. she was far more interested in you now.

“says who?” you weakly argue back.

“uh, says the look on your face. you’re not very subtle, babe.”

in all fairness, what you wanted might as well have appeared in a comedic thought bubble above your head with how clearly it was written across your face.

you mumble a quiet, “shut up,” ellie having you completely cornered. a low chuckle rumbles in her chest, your defeat amusing her.

“can you look at me, please?” ellie’s voice is gentle, that teasing cadence still present but it’s overpowered by something softer. she doesn’t just want you to look at her, she needs you to.

you pull away from your hiding place in her neck, bashful bambi eyes looking up at her finally.

“there she is,” ellie coos and it makes your head spin. your eyes gravitate back down to her lips, unable to ignore the magnetic pull they seemed to have. she knew what you wanted and you knew she wanted it too, but ellie just had to make it hard for you.

“tell me what you want and you can have it,” she whispers playfully. a reluctant groan leaves your wanting lips, (loving) hating the way she found such obvious joy in watching you squirm under her gaze.

you ultimately give in, the frayed rope that was tethering you to what was left of your self-restraint promptly snapping.

“please kiss me.”

so she does, her lips on yours in one fluid motion as she reaches up to cup your jaw. you sigh contently against her mouth now that she’s finally freeing you from this waiting game, melting as you hungrily chase each other's lips.

you feel lightheaded by the time ellie is gently guiding you onto your back, caging you in from above as if hiding you from the rest of the world. she was devouring you, selfish and possessive as she kissed you with an urgency that had you wondering if your lips would bruise. you were undeniably hers and ellie needed you to know it. and of course, you did, you didn’t see how things could be any other way.

it felt like you were about to burst; you could feel her everywhere. her calloused hand holding your face so sweetly, the mind-numbing kisses she was firmly planting onto your lips, hoping that her imprint would take root there and ruin you for anybody else. the way her knee slotted between your thighs with ease, the roughness of her jeans rubbing against you, leaving a tingle on your skin.

ellie had stolen all of the breath from your lungs, gasping for air as you pulled away from her, chest heaving. soft pants filled the air, sharing breathy giggles between the two of you. 

“hi,” you say dumbly, that same dopey grin from earlier stretching across your kiss-swollen lips.

“hi,” she repeats back, freckled cheeks dusted with a pink tint as she looks at you with glimmering eyes.

she barely gives you time to catch your breath before she’s leaning in to trail burning hot kisses down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, the flesh there sensitive under her loving attack. then she reached that spot, one she had discovered recently, pride swelling up in her chest after you made a noise she hadn’t heard from you before. she desperately wanted to hear it again.

a gasp of her name escapes your lips as she sucks and bites on the area, squirming beneath her as you feel her smile against your neck.

��yeah? you need something, baby?” she sounded so fucking cocky. if only you knew the way her heart was racing inside its bony cage, butterflies- no, more like a swarm of wasps invading her stomach. you looked so pretty underneath her, you sounded it too. the little hitches in your breath and your high-pitched whines had her hooked. it was like she was experiencing a whole new high as she watched you grow needier beneath her.

“need you.” your breathless plea is all she requires before her lips are back on yours, determined and eager.

as attractive as she looked in it you needed her out of that damn hoodie, your grabby hands tugging at it as a silent request for her to take it off. of course ellie obliges, why would she ever deny you?

she retreats for a moment to yank the grey fabric over her head, her t-shirt riding up a little in the process and it has you reeling. you felt utterly depraved having such a visceral reaction to the sliver of skin, feeling that familiar ache forming between your legs at the sight.

she was back on you again in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. you wanted to feel her, to bask in her body’s warmth as she drew those pretty sounds from you that she couldn’t get enough of.

“more, i need to feel you closer, fuck please-” your curious hands are creeping their way under her shirt now, nails dragging gently up her back. you watch as she shivers at the sensation, her head hanging low as a shaky breath passes her lips.

she’d do whatever you asked her to right now, grasping the hem of her t-shirt before pulling it over her head. you can’t help but gawk at her, completely stupefied by the sight. this was new, your clothes had always remained on up until now.

ellie feels on fire under your gaze, your half-lidded stare trailing over the definition chiselled into her stomach. you’re trying to add up every freckle you could see scattered across her pale skin, too many for you to count but you desperately wanted to know the number anyway because you wanted to know her.

“can i take your shirt off?” she sounds desperate and it puts you at ease being able to hear that she wants you just as bad as you want her.

“please, ellie,” is all you breathe out before she’s keenly dragging your shirt over your head. her eyes might as well be completely black with how big her pupils have grown, the weed mixed with the heavenly sight of you sprawled out beneath her enough to make her dizzy.

intimacy like this was somewhat new territory for you both as a couple. only recently was it that your eager hands and desperate touches made their way beneath the barriers of cotton and denim, a wall you hadn’t fully breached yet until now. but with how good she was making you feel, you knew you needed more.

brick by brick you tore it down, discarding each other’s clothing until you were left in nothing but your underwear. ellie needed to see you, all of you, her fingers twitching as they inched closer to your bra. she asks to take it off and you’re nodding your head in agreement before she can even finish her sentence. your back arches to give her room to unclasp it, feeling it grow loose around you before it’s being slid down your arms. there you are.

ellie is sure you’ve cast a spell on her, entranced by the sight of you laid almost fully bare beneath her, watching the way your chest would rise and fall as you sucked in breaths.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” she rasps in a tone reminiscent of the whines she would relentlessly mock you for. you were too far gone now to comment on it but you noticed, you could tease her about it later.

she can’t bear to not have her lips on you any longer, leaning down to trail sweet kisses down your neck once more, only this time letting herself go lower and lower.

a pathetic mewl escapes you as you feel her mouth capture one of your hardened nipples, arching into her as she sucks it into the wet warmth of her mouth. everything is so sensitive right now, the joint you smoked earlier still serving its purpose incredibly well. 

you would let her eat you whole if she asked, addicted to the contrast of her soft lips and her biting teeth as they began to mark the supple swell of your tits. you had barely started and she already had you seeing stars, her knee experimentally pushing against your clothed cunt with a little more force than before.

you’re positively soaked at this point, hyper-aware of the cool stickiness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear. and it only gets worse for you when ellie at last decides to discard her sports bra, leaving her in just her boxers.

she’s so pretty above you, touching you in a way that makes you feel sacred.

ellie moves impossibly closer to capture your lips once more, she can’t get enough of you. you can feel all of her, skin to skin as your sensitive tits push up against each other as she lays her weight on top of you. the feeling of her grounds you, keeping you from feeling like you’re floating away. 

you’re panting into each other’s mouths, a mess of needy gasps and whines as you try and merge into one.

“please let me taste you, baby. i need it- need you.”

you’d be a fool to say no to her.

you watch as she kisses her way down your body, cherishing you like you were going to disappear at any moment. you’re throbbing beneath your underwear, clenching around nothing as she plants careful kisses over the material.

she chuckles as you whimper in frustration despite her needing this just as much as you. she looks up at you for any signs of discomfort that may have flown under her radar, but all she sees is unwavering adoration. you’re squirming but you wait so patiently for her touch, lower lip caught between your teeth in anticipation. so good for her.

you shudder as she drags your panties down the length of your legs, not missing the string of arousal that connects you to the fabric just a little longer before ellie’s throwing them in some random direction. 

she’s face to face with your aching cunt now, almost salivating at the sight of your glistening folds right in front of her, waiting for her to do something.

“ellie, please don’t tease,” you whine, hips bucking in a desperate attempt to entice her closer. she’s truly not trying to drag this out, although she does love to tease you, she’s just completely enamoured by the sight of you.

“sorry, baby,” ellie snaps herself out of her trance, “c’mere, need to taste that pussy,” she sighs dreamily.

it’s like you can feel the chemistry of your brain changing after the first drag of her tongue between your folds, all of your senses flooded by only her and you know now that you’ll spend the rest of your days chasing the feeling.

the sight of her between your thighs is already overwhelming, her eyes rolling back as she savours the heady taste of you. you can hear how wet you are as her tongue ravages you, moaning against you as if she was the one getting fucked. the pleasure was dizzying, your hand weaving into the strands of her hair in a desperate attempt to keep yourself tethered to this reality.

“fuuuck, ellie!” you squeal, her nose nudging your clit as she practically buries her face in your pussy. her eyes open to look up at you, a guttural groan rumbling in her throat as she watches your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, brows furrowed and lips pouty as you let her have her way with you.

ellie can’t fathom how she’s supposed to want to be anywhere else but between your legs now that she’s finally gotten a taste of you. all of those longing glances and lingering touches from when you were both just friends had somehow led her here. her rightful place, she was sure of it.

she was taking mental notes of all the cute little noises she dragged out of you, noticing how you shuddered and whined when she flicked her tongue just right, clenching around nothing as she sucked your swollen bud into her mouth.

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful. can i use my fingers? please, baby, i’ll make you feel so good i promise.”

she sounds downright insatiable, begging you to let her make you feel good like she could feel it herself. she was convinced that she could, the wet patch on her boxers growing larger the longer she spent savouring you.

“yes please- oh fuck- please, ellie…”

she has rendered you almost completely mindless, dragging her finger up and down your slick folds. she experimentally pushes it inside of you, watching intently as your eyes flutter at the sensation.

“yeah, that feel good, pretty?” ellie asks in that low, sultry tone of hers that makes your stomach do cartwheels. all you can do is eagerly nod, lightning shooting through your limbs as she reattaches her mouth to your pussy. amidst all of this, she slides in a second finger, your slick helping her enter you with ease as a strangled moan leaves your mouth.

you could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. the combination of her tongue lapping against your folds, her fingers dragging against that sweet spot inside of you and the weed still buzzing in your system has you ready to give her everything you’d been holding back.

she could feel it too, the telltale clenching around her fingers and the way you struggled to form a coherent sentence. and she was obsessed with it, about ready to cum in her boxers just from the taste of you.

“els, i’m so close- oh my god, please let me cum. please, please, please-”

she pulls away for a moment, still pumping her fingers into you to keep you on that edge.

“you gonna cum for me, baby? that’s right, give it to me, c’mon.”

ellie had learned alarmingly fast just how to coax you into giving her exactly what she wants, your legs starting to tense up as she dives back into you, lips messily making out with your cunt.

you could feel her everywhere and it almost scared you, completely unable to escape the undeniable reality of how fucking in love you are with her and it’s making you feral.

“e-ellie, i think i’m gonna- fuck, i’m cumming!” your mind goes blank as she pushes you over the edge, feeling the waves of it throughout your entire body as you convulsed around her fingers.

your hips buck frantically as you ride out your high, ellie’s muffled moans vibrating against your sensitive entrance as she greedily lapped up your juices. 

“oh my god, ellie! fuck, i love you, i love you, loveyousomuch-” you mindlessly babble without thinking, too far gone to notice the way ellie’s eyes widen and her thrusts speed up ever so slightly.

you let her indulge in you until you had to squirm away from the overstimulation, your body limp and tired after she had just wrecked you. you try to regain your bearings, feeling ellie remove herself from between your legs and move so she can hold you against her.

she litters sweet kisses across your face, humming happily as you turn your head to capture her lips with yours once again. you whimper at the taste of yourself on her mouth, melting into her until your breathing starts to even out.

“you okay?” she whispers, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down your arm. you hum sleepily, nodding your head in response.

“are you okay?” you ask her back, voice soft and a little hoarse now.

“yeah, i’m okay, baby. y’did so well for me.” ellie pecks the top of your head, completely smitten as she looks at your limp body cuddled up in her arms.

she thinks back to a few minutes ago of you professing your love for her as she made you come undone, her stomach fluttering at the recent memory. she debates waiting until you’re not half asleep to ask about it, but she just can’t help herself.

“did you mean what you said? when you said that… you loved me?” she’s nervous to ask, not knowing how she’d react if you had just said it on a whim. nothing more than just words.

“i said that?” you ask in confusion. you look mortified and ellie’s stomach twists. these aren’t the butterflies she had felt with you moments before, it felt like she’d been poisoned.

“y-yeah… you said it when you finished.” you’re quiet for a little while, this worries ellie. she feels like an idiot, her palms are starting to get sweaty. did she just ruin everything? fuck, fuck, fuck-

really you were just trying to rack your brain for when those very important words had left your mouth. and then you hear it, transported back to the memory in a third-person view.

she’s making you feel so good, your back arching as the shockwaves of your orgasm slam into you. you look down at her, and she looks undoubtedly obsessed with you. she’s latched onto your pussy like she’s starving, drinking in everything that you give her. and then you say it. a raw and terrifyingly real confession of, “i love you.” and you say it again and again, chanting it like a prayer as you promised her your heart like it was nothing.

“oh my god, ellie i’m so sorry.” she almost winces, she shouldn’t have said anything-

“i wanted to tell you how i felt properly on a date or something, not while you made me cum like a fucking loser, shit-”

ellie is confused for a moment, having been bracing herself for you to tell her that you don’t love her the way she definitely did you. but then you didn’t…

oh.

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine, furrowing your brows angrily when you see the cheesy grin making its way across ellie’s face. “don’t laugh at me! this is so humiliating.”

“no no, i’m not laughing at you! fuck no, i thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t mean what you said.” you tilt your head, the both of you now a little confused.

“oh…” you whisper. but if she wasn’t uncomfortable with you saying that you love her did that mean…?

“thought i was dreaming when i heard you say it. but i wasn’t and i am so fucking happy.” she holds you a little tighter now. “i love you so much, been wanting to tell you for a while now.”

“tell me again.” your request is simple but she knew how much it meant. ellie gently takes your hand and holds it in front of her face, leaning forward to press her lips to each finger tip.

“i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” another kiss.

there’s a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t ignore and you feel so safe in her arms. floaty and calm whilst you snuggle into her side, your eyes flutter tiredly as she tells you she loves you as many times as you need to hear.

maybe getting a little too high with ellie wasn’t such a bad idea.

[fairestwriting]

Hi! Could I request Diasomnia with a reader who got injured but is too stubborn to let them help? Idk if you do platonic works but I would prefer this was. Romantic is fine tho :) have a nice day

i do write platonic relationships yeah! i wrote this one thinking of the reader more like their close friend but if someone wants to interpret it as a crush thing i think it could work too. i hope you have a nice day too <3

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

Malleus has enough common sense to not lose his mind over little scrapes, even though he’d honestly still want you to put a bandaid over it. But having mentioned that before, and receiving your very firm response that it was fine, he got the message that you might not like being fussed over.

So he mostly doesn’t voice these thoughts. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, and he does know certain things really are so minor that it won’t make that much of a difference if you try to care for it or not. Even in a human body, which is still something that’s sort of a mystery to him.

But, for that precise reason of him not fully understanding the human healing process, if anything bleeds, or looks noticeably red, he refuses to leave you alone about it. You can still see some hesitancy in his eyes, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, but it’s outweighed by worry. ”What if it gets infected, though? Are you sure you don’t want to at least bandage it?” He’s heard infections can get pretty serious, even if they’re very minor at first.

If all other arguments fail to reach you, he’ll ask if you could take care of it for his sake. Because he really hates to see you hurt, so could you just consider making sure it’ll heal faster? He’ll say that even over something like a nastier than average hand burn from cooking, and so honestly too — it’ll really put your stubbornness to test, regardless of how strong it is.

𐙚 Lilia Vanrouge

His knowledge on human injuries is, frankly, a bit all over the place. It’s hard to remember what’s serious and what isn’t when he’s been around for so long, and gotten so many injuries of his own. Sometimes he unconsciously projects his own body’s recovery ability onto others.

Now, that doesn’t mean he’ll be any sort of neglectful of your injuries, though. On the contrary, he insists on personally patching you up every time he catches a glimpse of one. ”Hmm, you don’t want to bother with it? That’s okay. I’ll do it for you, just hold still.” He’s smiling as he talks, not even giving you a chance to properly say no before he’s already taking a closer look at the injury. His grip is too strong for you to pull away, even if it isn’t forceful at all…

When it comes to things like scratches, it’s more of a playful show of affection. He does know it won’t kill you, it doesn’t really need that bandaid and certainly not the little kiss he places over it after— He just wants to show that he cares for you. If you find it flustering that’s just a bonus. And yes, he will still do it even if you’re just friends, just in a more parental sort of way, unless you tell him it genuinely makes you uncomfortable.

If it’s more serious, the sort of thing that could actually cause an infection if not taken care of properly, he’s not as lighthearted. He does still joke a little about how you don’t have to worry about a thing because he’s here to care for you, but mostly to keep the mood light, especially if it looks like something he’d have to take you to the nurse to properly care for. Lilia wonders why you’re so stubborn about the whole thing, maybe it’s a matter of not wanting to seem weak? He hopes you’ll feel more at ease with him, eventually.

𐙚 Silver

To nobody’s surprise, he’ll likely be the most easygoing and knowledgeable of the bunch. There’s no species difference factor at play here, he’s very aware of what can be dangerous if left untreated and what can’t.

He does point out injuries and ask about them if he notices them, no matter how small, but it’s more of an expression of caring about you in general rather than specifically worrying that the bad scrape you got from tripping could make you deathly ill. It won’t really alarm him when you tell him it’s not a big deal, or it doesn’t even hurt. He’ll at most remind you to keep it away from dirt and then drop the subject.

Silver is very quick to recognize what could truly be potentially dangerous, though. Lilia taught him the basics of first aid when he was pretty young, and he later went on to study it in more depth as part of his training. The way he notices and points out things might even come off strange, because he’s usually so laid back in every aspect. Before you can dismiss him he’s already listing all the reasons why your “little scratch” is looking a bit off putting.

Still, he doesn’t want to pressure you, so it might create a bit of a dilemma in his mind when you keep insisting it’s fine. ”I’m being serious here, I’m not trying to annoy you. It’s not supposed to be this red. If you don’t want to see the nurse, at least let me help.” He’ll argue, and he can get pretty firm, but he’ll never cross the line into outright scolding you. You sound honestly careless to him, but he feels like there must be a reason for you to feel that way, and he doesn’t want to pry.

𐙚 Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek is about as educated in the topic as Silver, and the difference between how your body recovers from injuries versus his is pretty minimal compared to people like Malleus or Lilia. But. Well. It is Sebek. You can’t really expect him to just let it go, if he likes you enough to consider you at least a friend. He’s just not someone who can be any sort of laid back with those he cares about.

Even though he knows so much about the theory, he does actually get worried if you hurt yourself. Yes, he’s aware that just because the cut you got from peeling some fruit bled a little bit, it doesn’t mean it’s going to get infected if you don’t clean and bandage it within an hour. But every body can be so different, even within the same (or similar) species! Besides, he’s read that poor immune system function can contribute to wounds getting easily infected— And how is he supposed to tell if your immune system is doing perfectly fine, if you’re so guarded even with small injuries. You’d try to hide it if you were feeling sick too, woldn’t you?

Even though he’s the youngest in this group, he’s the one who really comes off like some kind of… nagging parent or overprotective older sibling. Hell, he might even be younger than you, but he’s still pulling bandaids and antiseptic seemingly out of nowhere and scolding you for not taking care of yourself. “You were already careless enough to get hurt, and now you want to just leave it like that?!” He balks at your insistence that it wasn’t a big deal, he didn’t have to do anything or even worry, you’ve dealt with things like that before— Yeah, he’s not listening to any of that.

He might end up overstepping your boundaries a bit in the process, but he really does mean well. It just makes him anxious to see you dismissing your own safety like that, and that makes it hard to try to understand your perspective, whatever it is. You know him well enough to be aware that all the fussing just happens because he cares, and not because he’s genuinely trying to make you feel bad for getting hurt and not wanting to accept help with patching yourself up. If it does end up upsetting you, he’ll be understanding if you bring it up later.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[uzurakis]

THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY!

featuring: geto suguru. megumi fushiguro. itadori yuuji. nanami kento.

n. a sign of them being very comfortable with you. slighty suggestive in itadori’s part. PART 2 HERE :0

GETO SUGURU. suguru finds it aggravating when the others try to mess up his hair, with the exception of you. after the relationship evolved, you'd sit on the bed with him after he showered and brush the large tangles out of his hair. other times, you might put it up in a bun or another style when he isn't looking. you spend that quiet time talking and enjoying one other's company.

in the quiet of your shared space, suguru sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, his damp hair a tangle of knots. you approached him with a gentle smile, brush in hand. “you know the rule," suguru said with a hint of playfulness, though his eyes softened at the sight of you. “i know, i know," you replied, taking a seat beside him. "this is a condition comes with me being your girlfriend. i got to brush your hair and you get to play mine.”

as you carefully detangled his hair, the room filled with the sound of your voices, sharing stories and laughter. with each stroke of the brush, suguru felt a sense of calm wash over him, grateful for this quiet moment with you.

once his hair was finally smooth and manageable, you surprised him by styling it into a loose bun, eliciting a surprised gasp from suguru as he caught sight of his reflection. “you did it again, didn't you?" he said, pretending to scold you, though his eyes twinkled with affection. you simply smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't help it. i love making you look even more handsome."

ITADORI YUUJI. itadori enjoys lying and lounging about naked together. it feels like complete vulnerability, with no walls between you, resyncing your relationship as you melt into each other's body. he has a habit of writing something on your skin as a game in which you have to guess what he wrote down. other times, he simply likes to nap in the afternoon while you tell him a story in bed.

lounging comfortably in your bed, naked and unguarded, itadori traced lazy patterns on your skin with his touch sending shivers down your spine. "guess what i wrote this time," he whispered, his finger leaving a trail of invisible words on your back. you chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "hmm, let me think..."

as you concentrated, trying to decipher his secret message, itadori pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his warmth enveloping you entirely. then finally, you ventured a guess, feeling his smile against your skin as you spoke the words aloud.

"wrong," he teased, his laughter mingling with yours. “you gotta get it right next time, babe. or else i’ll bite your thighs again.”

with each lighthearted round of the game, the barriers between you appeared to dissolve, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection to be felt.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi has a difficult time opening up to others, and you were the one who showed him that it is acceptable to talk about what he feels together. you understood that him speaking meaningful words in a serious manner to you puts a toll on his ego; not that he doesn’t care, he just wasn't used to it. what surprises you is how effortlessly he drops those words only in the spur of the moment, as if he hasn't been fighting to say them all along. he also brings up topics you've already discussed and gives every single penny of thought to conversations that deepen feelings between the both of you.

in the quiet of the evening, megumi sat beside you, his expression guarded as always. you both were doing your homework together and then, in a moment that took you by surprise, he spoke, his words flowing effortlessly.

"i care about you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "more than i can put into words."

"why so suddenly?" you asked, surprised by the unexpected confession. the man paused, his expression earnest as he searched for the right words. "i.. just feel you need to hear them from me." he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. “sorry..”

you could feel your heart swelling with emotion, touched by the sincerity in his words. "thank you, i care about you too, ‘gumi” you whispered, feeling the weight of his feelings enveloping you like a warm embrace. "i like it when you talk about what you're feeling, you know.” you said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.

you knew that megumi's words had transcended the barriers he had once struggled to break through. and as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful words are the ones spoken from the heart, even if they come unexpectedly.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami believes there is nothing better than a massage after a long and tiring day. he believes that the best massages are those that he earns without having to ask for them; you just knew he needed one and vice versa.

nanami trudged through the door, weary from the demands of the day. you greeted him with a warm smile, sensing the weight on his shoulders without a word spoken. "rough day?" you asked, already moving towards him with a knowing look. nanami nodded, sinking into their embrace. "you have no idea."

without hesitation, you guided him to the couch and began to knead away the tension that had settled in his muscles. "this is exactly what i needed," the man sighed, feeling the knots slowly unraveling beneath your touch.

you smiled softly, your fingers working with practiced ease. "i could tell. you always carry so much on your shoulders."

as the stress of the day melted away, he found himself falling even more deeply in love with the one who cared for him so effortlessly.

@uzurakis

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 5.1  chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.  masterlist

a.n — this is one of my favoriteee chapters I BEEN WAITING ON THIS ONEEEE. alsoooo i’ll repeat: there will be adult content in this and many (not all) of the following chapters. proceed with caution <333

fifteen

sunday, february 16th

"hey, suze? i just finished cleaning up the rec area, and the last resident just went up to rest, so i’m heading out, okay?" your voice is soft as you smile at the nurse, who’s busy rearranging the medicine cabinet.

"of course, sweetie. thanks for coming in, alright? get home safe," she replies, glancing at you with a kind smile before returning to her task.

you nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder and digging around for your phone, which you hadn’t touched since arriving. as the screen lights up, a string of missed calls and texts from your dad immediately catches your eye. you skim through them quickly—he’s not coming to get you. grandma’s fridge broke, and she urgently needs help.

you sigh softly, taking in the news when a voice cuts through the quiet evening air.

“i charge by the minute, you know?”

you glance up, your heart skipping just a little when you see rafe leaning casually against his car, hands in his pockets and that signature grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. he looks different from the way he did two hours ago during tutoring—less disheveled, more put together.

“rafe? i thought you were meeting up with friends,” you call out, your feet already carrying you toward him. the distance feels unnecessarily long, each second drawn out as if the air itself was slowing you down.

“i was,” he admits, pushing off the car as you approach. “but then your dad texted me, asked if i could do him a favor. and, well, he’s my favorite y/l/n, so how could i say no?” his cheeky grin widens, and you roll your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him playfully.

“well, thank you for coming,” you say, reaching for the passenger door. “i probably would’ve had to walk home if he wasn’t free.”

before you can open the door, his hand presses against it, keeping it firmly shut. you glance up at him, brow arched in question, but he just tilts his head, his grin turning sly.

“got any other ways to show your gratitude?” he teases, his voice dipping just enough to make your stomach flip.

you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “hmm… i have gum in my bag?”

“oh, gum? what flavor?” his tone is mockingly serious as he takes a step closer, the space between you shrinking by the second.

“cherry,” you whisper, your voice catching as he’s suddenly right in front of you, his gaze locked on yours.

“my favorite,” he murmurs, the words barely leaving his lips before they’re on yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. it’s soft and unhurried, yet it steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you feeling weightless. your eyes flutter shut, and your fingers clutch the strap of your bag as warmth spreads through your chest.

a quiet sound escapes you—a mix of surprise and contentment—and you instinctively press a hand to his chest, gently pushing him back. rafe chuckles, his laugh low and warm as he takes a small step away, though the smile on his face remains unshaken.

“yeah, that works,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, before pulling the car door open and gesturing for you to get in.

your cheeks flush as you slip into the seat, watching through the window as he rounds the car to slide into the driver’s side. the teasing smirk still lingers on his lips, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself, your heart still racing as the car pulls away.

you’ve made it a habit to turn toward rafe the moment you’re seated and buckled in. not for any practical reason, but because of how captivating he looked doing the simplest things, like driving. the way his hands moved over the stick shift, the smooth confidence in how he checked his mirrors, and the effortless grace of turning his wheel—it was mesmerizing. if rafe could drive you everywhere for the rest of your life, you’d happily never learn to drive. ever.

“did cleo like her gift?” you asked after a moment, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

he chuckled, nodding as he shifted gears. “more than i thought she would. how’d you know that would be a good gift?”

you shrugged, your gaze lingering on his profile, tracing the sharp angle of his jawline. “she mentioned something about it at the bonfire,” you murmured, the memory surfacing easily.

he glanced at you briefly, his lips curling into a grin. “you really remember everything, huh?”

your grin mirrored his as you shook your head. “only the important stuff.”

your voice drifted off as you noticed the view outside shifting—he was taking the long way, and the car was cruising along the beach. the late-afternoon sun painted the waves in streaks of gold and pink, the kind of colors that made you wish you had a paintbrush or at least a better camera.

despite living so close to the ocean, you didn’t visit as often as you wanted to. rafe seemed to notice the way your eyes lingered on the water.

“do you wanna get out for a bit?” he asked, his voice soft and inviting.

you turned to him, wide-eyed and smiling, nodding eagerly. “yes, please.”

“course,” he murmured, already pulling over. you were out of the car before the engine had even fully stopped, the cool sand cushioning your steps as you made your way toward the shoreline. the air was crisp, but not as biting as it should have been for the middle of february.

“the sunset is so pretty!” you exclaimed, pulling your phone from your pocket. you lifted it to capture the scene—the gradient sky blending from deep blue to fiery orange, the waves rolling in with a steady rhythm.

just as you snapped the picture, rafe wandered into your shot, his tall frame silhouetted against the glowing horizon. you glanced down at your phone, scrolling through the pictures you’d just taken. the last one—the one with rafe standing in the middle of it—instantly became your favorite. something about the way he looked, with the golden light catching the edges of his body.

you smiled softly, your heart warm as you tucked your phone back into your pocket and followed after him.

“i used to come here every weekend with my parents,” you murmur, sitting cross-legged on the soft sand, the water far enough away to be a distant lull.

“what changed?” rafe asks, his voice low, careful not to disturb the quiet of the moment.

you tilt your head, releasing a small sigh as your eyes follow the rhythmic motion of the waves. “a lot,” you admit softly. “we had two new additions to the family. i started taking school more seriously. there’s just… less time. i don’t usually negotiate much when it comes to my schedule.”

you don’t mention how he seems to be the only exception to that unyielding rule.

rafe’s gaze lingers on you, warm and thoughtful. “i think you’re… exceptional,” he says, his words barely louder than the surf but ringing clearly in your ears. “you’re the most driven person i’ve ever met. your ambition is something people should look up to, but… i think you’re too hard on yourself. and while you’re running laps around everyone else, chasing your goals and getting ahead, you forget there are people right here who love you, care about you, and just want to see you. your family—your sister, your brother—all those moments you miss with them? you don’t get them back. trust me, i know.”

you exhale softly, staring harder at the water as if it holds the answers you can’t find. you know he’s right. you also know rafe doesn’t say things like this lightly. his words carry the weight of personal experience, a truth you can’t ignore. buried deep in your hyper-focus on academics and your future, you’ve convinced yourself your family understands. but when was the last time you did something fun with your sister, just for the joy of it?

“i need to learn how to have more fun,” you say, your tone contemplative. a small part of your mind instinctively wants to research the topic, to open a tab on your laptop and find a step-by-step guide to having fun.

rafe’s eyes are on you, and when you glance his way, he’s smiling—wide, mischievous, the kind of grin that sets you on edge.

“what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

his brows lift playfully. “you can’t say no,” he declares, leaning back on his hands like he’s already won.

“that sounds dangerous,” you reply warily, crossing your arms.

he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “you’ll just have to trust me.”

you gesture for him to continue, and he turns his attention to the water, a wicked glint still sparkling in his eyes.

realization dawns, and you blink at him, horrified. “you want to get in the water?”

“why not?” he grins.

“rafe, we don’t even have our swimsuits!” you exclaim, your voice pitching higher with incredulity.

he shrugs, unfazed. “so? there’s no one around, the sun’s setting—it’ll be dark in ten minutes!”

“no, rafe. i’m not skinny-dipping with you!” you hiss, mortified that those words even left your mouth.

he’s doubled over, laughing so hard he can barely catch his breath. “it’s just you and me! c’mon, it’s fun, i swear!”

your lips press together as you glance between him and the empty stretch of beach. the horizon glows with the last remnants of daylight, the waves lapping softly at the shore. you groan inwardly. “fine. but turn around!”

rafe smirks but obliges, spinning in the sand. “can’t see you naked, but i can have my fingers in your—”

“shut up!” you snap, shoving his shoulder. your face burns as you start peeling off your clothes, layering them neatly on the sand. you hesitate, glancing around to ensure the beach is still deserted before shedding your underwear and bra.

“okay,” you mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear.

rafe starts to turn, but you slam your hands on his shoulders. “no! i’m going into the water first. count to fifteen, and then you can turn around.”

he chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “got it. fifteen seconds.”

you give him a skeptical look before sprinting toward the water. it’s colder than you expected, the chill biting against your skin. “oh, god,” you gasp, wading deeper until the waves lap at your waist.

when you glance back, rafe is standing, shamelessly stripping down. your breath catches for a second, but then guilt tugs at you. you quickly turn away, fixing your eyes on the vibrant streaks of the sunset. if he couldn’t look, then neither would you.

the sound of splashing tells you he’s joined you, “did you peek?” his voice was low, teasing, and when you turned to face him, you shook your head resolutely.

“of course not,” you said firmly, though your heart skipped at the question.

rafe pulled a face, his lips quirking into a mischievous smirk. “shit, i did.”

“rafe!” your eyes widened in horror as you gasped, but his laugh broke through your shock.

“i’m messing with you,” he admitted, grinning. “i didn’t look.”

you narrowed your eyes, unsure whether to believe him. “do you promise?”

he raised a hand solemnly. “i promise.”

you hummed softly, sinking lower into the water until only your eyes and the top of your head were visible above the surface. the water was soothing, cradling you in its cool embrace. rafe, meanwhile, dipped his entire head under, emerging moments later with a shake of his head that sent a cascade of droplets flying in your direction.

“you did that on purpose!” you accused, spluttering as the cold water sprayed across your face and shoulders.

“yeah, i did,” he admitted, unrepentant. “you should definitely come over here so i can apologize.”

you floated lazily, resisting the pull of temptation despite the warmth in his gaze. “i’ve heard that doing… stuff underwater doesn’t feel good because, well, the water messes with everything.”

his teasing smile didn’t falter. “well, i wasn’t talking about that kind of apology.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, kicking a small wave of water in his direction before covering your face with both hands.

he chuckled, the sound rich and unbothered. “but, for the record,” he added, “i wouldn’t say it feels bad. it doesn’t feel bad at all. but the ocean? yeah, not ideal. kind of gross, actually.”

“definitely weird,” you agreed, cupping water in your hands and splashing it over your face. the chill grounded you, calming the blush that threatened to creep over your skin.

“how do you feel?” he asked, his voice gentler now, sincere. “not too exposed?”

you smiled softly, lowering your hands and glancing toward him. “oddly enough, this feels… comfortable. the water’s cold, but it’s like a big blanket. i think i’d do this again.”

“told you,” he sang, his voice laced with pride. “you just have to trust me. i wouldn’t lie to you.”

you nodded slowly, taking in his words. you believed him—rafe had this way of making everything feel safe, even when it was completely out of your comfort zone. he was easily the most perfect person you’d ever met, yet something in your gut always held you back, a quiet voice urging caution.

you were having fun, though. more than fun. being with rafe felt freeing, like playing a game of boyfriend and girlfriend with no rules. you’d never felt this alive, never learned this much about your heart, your wants, your body. but that same voice, persistent and protective, reminded you that this wasn’t forever. it warned you to keep that last wall standing, even as you longed to tear it down.

the two of you stayed in the water until the chill became unbearable, the sky shifting from soft gold to deep navy, leaving only the faintest glow on the horizon. the cold seeped into your bones, numbing your hands and feet, but you didn’t want to leave. the ocean felt like a secret, a world that belonged only to the two of you.

but rafe noticed your shivering and wasn’t having it. “you’re freezing,” he said, his tone firm despite the softness in his eyes. “we’re getting out.”

you hesitated but let him guide you, the warmth of his presence anchoring you as the two of you made your way back to shore, water dripping from your skin and leaving a trail in the sand. your clothes brought some kind of warmth for a moment until they were all wet again.

"oh, god, it's freezing…" you're laughing despite the shivers wracking your body as you and rafe trudge back toward his car. your soaked clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin, but there’s something lighthearted in the shared discomfort.

"hold on," rafe says, brushing wet strands of hair out of his face as he pulls his keys from his pocket. "i’ve got some clothes in the trunk." he unlocks the car with a click, jogging ahead. the wet fabric of his shirt clings to the sculpted muscles of his back, his steps deliberate and sure despite the chill.

you linger by the side of the car, watching as he flips open the trunk and rummages around. moments later, he glances over his shoulder and waves you closer. "i’ve got these," he says, holding up a dark blue sweater and a pair of matching sweatpants. "they’re probably way too big, but at least they’re dry."

before you can thank him, rafe straightens and, without hesitation, starts unbuttoning his pants.

“rafe!” your voice comes out sharper than intended, and he pauses mid-movement, his brow lifting as an amused grin spreads across his face.

“do you… want me to go somewhere else?” he asks, genuinely curious but clearly entertained by your reaction. there’s an ease to him, as if standing half-undressed on a deserted beach was the most natural thing in the world.

you stammer, flustered. “n-no! just… um… just turn around, okay?”

he studies you for a beat, then nods, that grin still tugging at his lips. "whatever you say." he turns around obediently, and you mimic the motion, facing away from him as you peel off your sodden clothes.

slipping into rafe’s sweater and sweatpants feels like a small luxury. the fabric is soft, heavy with the faintest hint of his scent—a mix of cedar and something uniquely his. the sleeves hang past your hands, and the pant legs pool around your ankles, but there’s a comfort in the oversized fit, like being wrapped in a warm hug.

“can i turn around?” rafe calls after a moment, and you glance over your shoulder before spinning to face him.

“yeah,” you say, burying your fists into the oversized sleeves to warm your hands.

his gaze softens as he takes you in, and the corner of his mouth lifts in an affectionate smile. “you look adorable.”

heat floods your cheeks, and you clamp your mouth shut, knowing anything you say will only embarrass you further. rafe steps closer, his hands gentle as he gathers your damp hair. he twists it carefully, wringing out the excess water before smoothing it back over your shoulders.

“better,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“thank you,” you whisper, your voice small but sincere.

the car is a blessing, the heated seats almost miraculous as you sink into the passenger side. you press your chilled hands against the warm air vents while rafe fiddles with the settings, adjusting the heat to full blast.

his phone rings, the sound seamlessly connecting to the car’s speakers. you glance at the display, watching as cleo flashes across the screen.

“what’s up, cleo?” rafe answers casually, shifting in his seat. there’s no immediate response, just faint background noise—music, laughter, the buzz of a party.

you rest your head against the headrest, your curiosity piqued as you keep an eye on the screen.

“cleo?” rafe repeats, a faint frown forming, and then another voice cuts through the static.

“so, you can’t answer when i call, huh?” topper’s voice, slurred and unmistakably drunk, fills the car.

your body tenses, and you glance at rafe, noting the way his jaw tightens instantly.

“someone repeatedly not answering the phone is generally an indication they don’t want to fucking talk, top,” rafe says coolly, though his tone carries an unmistakable edge.

“this can’t all be because of that fucking tu—” topper’s words cut off as rafe disconnects the call, grabbing his phone and pressing it to his ear.

“if you don’t want me to break your fucking nose again, you’ll shut the fuck up,” rafe growls, stepping out of the car in one swift motion.

your jaw drops slightly as the car door slams behind him, the force of it making you flinch. through the windshield, you watch as he paces a few meters away, his frustration evident in the hard set of his shoulders and the sharp movements of his free hand.

though you can’t hear the rest of the conversation, it’s clear topper’s words are fueling rafe’s anger. his expression darkens, and even from a distance, you can see the tension in his face.

you lean back in your seat, biting your lip as you piece together the context. you weren’t stupid; you knew topper’s unfinished sentence would’ve been “that tutor”—you. it wasn’t exactly a mystery that topper disliked you, though his reasoning eluded you.

what upset you more was how this feud seemed to isolate rafe. he hadn’t been spending much time with topper or their usual group since that first explosive fight. instead, he’d been with you—joining your friends, staying over after school, and being your constant companion.

today had been an exception. it was cleo’s birthday, and rafe had been excited to celebrate with his friends. he’d even stayed for a couple of hours before leaving to pick you up. you assumed topper didn’t like that.

as rafe’s pacing slowed, you watched him closely, your heart heavy with a mix of gratitude and guilt. he was loyal to a fault, and though you appreciated his defense of you, part of you wished it didn’t come at the expense of his friendships.

after a couple of minutes, rafe slides back into the car, the door shutting with a sharp finality that mirrors the tension radiating off him. his movements are quick, almost aggressive, as he tosses his phone into the backseat without a second thought. his jaw is clenched so tightly you can see the muscles flex, and his hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles pale. his gaze is fixed straight ahead, but it’s unfocused, like he’s wrestling with whatever storm is brewing inside him.

“rafe?” your voice is soft, careful not to add to the crackling tension in the air. you reach out, your fingers brushing tentatively over his fist where it’s clenched on his thigh.

“i’m good,” he says sharply, cutting you off before you can say more. his other hand drags through his semi-dry hair, the tousled strands falling back into place. “just… give me a second.”

undeterred, you rest your hand fully over his fist, your thumb brushing lightly against his knuckles. his body tenses further at the contact, his jaw ticking again.

“wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, leaning toward him, your hopeful gaze searching his face.

he shakes his head faintly, eyes closing as he rests his head back against the seat. “nothing to talk about. just topper being topper—trying to get me to break his fucking kneecaps.” his tone is flat, but the undercurrent of frustration is unmistakable.

you blink at his casual mention of violence, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “he doesn’t like me very much, does he?”

at your words, rafe’s irritation flares visibly, his fingers flexing as if resisting the urge to punch something. “he just needs to piss off. fuck,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “and i know—i know—he can’t stand it. he hates that i get close to someone he can’t touch, someone who’s fucking mine. he’s a pissy little bitch, and the next time i see him—”

“rafe,” you interrupt softly, sensing the dangerous direction his thoughts are heading. “calm down…” you murmur, your voice soothing as you lean in to press a featherlight kiss to his cheek.

his breathing is still uneven, his chest rising and falling with controlled restraint. “you’re getting way too worked up,” you whisper, cradling his face with one hand, your thumb grazing along the sharp line of his cheekbone.

his lips remain tight, his gaze hard, but he doesn’t pull away. you take the opportunity to scatter soft kisses across his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips. your touch is gentle, alternating between quick pecks and lingering brushes. at first, he’s unresponsive, but slowly he starts kissing back, his lips yielding to yours in unspoken surrender.

you trail your kisses lower, down along the line of his jaw to his neck. you feel the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, the tightness in his posture softening under the warmth of your lips.

your hand glides down his chest, your fingertips barely grazing the ridges of his abs, tracing slow, soothing patterns. his breaths come slower now, steadier, the anger slowly ebbing away with each kiss you leave on his skin.

rafe remains still, his arms resting at his sides, his body still tense under your gentle touch and then your hands find the edge of his sweatpants.

your hand is halfway in when he tenses, "you don't have to do this—" he starts but you're cutting him off. "i want to." you whisper softly and he knows you want to, you've been trying and asking for days. he was the one to insist you go slower which was fair since you were the one who wanted to go slow in the very beginning. that all changed the moment you two made out for the first time. you'd quickly thrown 'slow' in the trash.

you kiss your way back to his lips, "will you tell me how?" you'd seen videos and could also imagine what to do but actually doing it was a lot different. rafe hums against your lips, "take it out first," he mutters with his lips inching yours.

you glance down and slowly take his semi-hard cock out of his pants. you stare at it for a couple of seconds. it's heavier than you'd imagined, fat and veiny with this glossy pink tip that makes your mouth water just a little. without a word from rafe, you're curiously running your hand along it.

you don't expect rafe to tense at your touch and you're immediately looking up at him in surprise when he does. "did that hurt? did i just hurt you?" you ask and his smile is genuine, "quite the opposite." he rasps and then his hand is covering yours gently. he guides your hands up and down along his fat cock and you're a little mesmerised watching it slowly grow in size.

rafe's heavy breathing tells you it's going good so far but you want to get it in your mouth. the nerd in you is trying to calculate how it would even be possible, how you could get such a big dick past your lips without choking on it.

you're lowering your head to get him into your mouth when he stops you gently, fingers on your chin. "no teeth." he explains and you're nodding before you're desperately trying to get down there again. he stops you, again. "just..take it easy, start with the tip and slowly take more." he continues, eyes boring into yours. you could see the lust in them, just pooling in his eyes as he watched you practically drool to get his cock in your mouth.

the moment he let go of you, your tongue was darting out just enough to slowly lick along his fat tip. rafe hissed and gripped the car handle, "fuck," he whispered lowly. you pulled back and looked at it. you weren't sure why you expected it to do something and when it didn't, you just gave it another experimental lick before slowly wrapping your lips around the tender head, suckling gently.

"that's it, baby..take it easy.." rafe is muttering as you suckle on his warm tip. you hesitate for only a second before you're taking more of him in your mouth and you don't expect the tears to come so quickly. they don't really bother you. you realize nothing really bothers you while he's in your mouth. your mind has gone completely empty, void of any noise or thought, he's all you can feel, all you can sense is him filling you up.

it doesn't take long before you're bopping your head up and down and drooling all over his cock. rafe is groaning and grunting every couple of seconds and his hands are in your hair but you can feel him resisting, can feel the moment he wants to push your head down but every time, he stops himself and just lets you go at your own pace.

you whimper when you attempt for the third time to get his entire lenght down your throat and almost want to cry in frustration that he just won't fit. rafe is holding your head back, trying to say something but continously getting cut off by his own moans. "p-perfect, baby, fuck, that's perfect.." he tilts his head back and holds onto you so you stop moving for five seconds. you were eager, so goddamn determined. "stop forcing..you'll hurt yourself." he grunts before he's letting you go and your mouth is right back on his cock, seeking that fuzzy feeling, that instant quietening of the mind.

you know he won't fit unless rafe bucks his hips up and fucks your mouth and you know he won't do that so you settle for using your hands for the part of him you can't reach. you stroke him up and down and your drool helps keep it all smooth and wet. "jesus..fuck, fuck.." rafe moans, voice low, and then you're speeding up, just a little. you just want more, want it to take you over, want to make rafe feel good.

something seems to snap in him because his hands fly to your hair and he's groaning, shoving your head down onto his fat cock. he forces you to take more and more of him and the noises you make are filthy and down-right obscene. you're whining, high, and desperate around his veiny cock as you try to keep up with how he's pushing your head down over and over.

you're choking around him, tears streaming down your cheeks and he's doing all the work now, gripping your hair and shoving your head down, pushing your mouth onto his cock. "g-god..that's it..!" his hips stutter, and then he's hurriedly pulling your mouth off of him as his cum squirts out and covers his cock and a bit of his shirt.

you stare at his tip, a little dazed while you catch your breath. you watch the creamy white lines cover it and without giving it much thought, you're licking the cum off his length and tip. rafe hisses at the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive tip, "if i knew you wanted it, i would've come in your mouth." he's mumbling, and only then do you look at him, "why didn't you?" you ask, mind still a little fuzzy.

"because a lot of people don't like it." he's got this lazy smile on his face as he runs his fingers through your hair. you blink at him and try to think of a reason someone wouldn't want it. all that hard work for nothing?

"did you like it?" you ask him as he sadly puts himself back in his sweats. he's chuckling, "did i like it? that has to be a rhetorical question." he pats his leg gently and you're on his lap in a matter of seconds. "i liked it." you mutter as he presses a couple of kisses to your lips. he pauses and cups your cheeks gently, "are you sure you liked it?" he's whispering softly, "you seem..out of it."

you were out of it; eyes still dilated, mind still fuzzy, brain still empty. you'd never ever felt like this. "i'm really sure i liked it." you nod and rest your head on his shoulder. "i wanna do it again." you confess which has him chuckling again. "you won't hear a complaint from me."

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.

a.n — topper is like an annoying ex that you just can’t shake

taglist — @rafeysworldim19@my-name-is-baby@pogueprincesa@fveapplestall@chalametlover444@slutglimreqpers@uarmyhopeworldwide@junxe3@bakuhoethotski @wintercrows @bigjuli444 @singlethreadofivy @magicalflowerstranger

let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[yokumirumerafan]

Can I request how the Demon Slayer Characters would react to being reunited with Y/N who went missing on a mission but later returned minority injured but alive regardless. I know it’s a bit odd but I’m a sucker for reuniting fics.

Have a great day/night!

AHHH YESSSSSSS THAT ANGSTY COMFORT GOODNESS 😭💗 we eatin’ SO good today omg… this is such a sweet request and not odd at all!! I’ll split the reactions for ya like always—gonna hit you with Hashiras n' Kamaboko Squad

🌸 Mitsuri Kanroji She sprints at you the second she sees you. Full-on bawling. “Y/N-CHANNNN!!! I THOUGHT I LOST YOU FOREVER!!” Hugs you so tight you might break a rib, but then starts frantically apologizing and fussing over your injuries. She makes you a giant home-cooked meal and doesn’t let you out of her sight for a week.

🔥 Rengoku Kyojuro He holds his composure until you’re right in front of him, then suddenly he’s on his knees, hugging your waist tightly. “You have returned…thank the gods.” His voice cracks a little. He treats you with such care while helping you recover—quiet and more serious than usual, guilt simmering behind his smile.

🌫️ Muichiro Tokito Silent. Just stares at you for a solid minute. Then walks up, pokes your forehead and says, “…I knew you’d come back. You’re not allowed to do that again.” Sits beside your bed the whole time you recover, pretending he’s “just resting” but actually watches over you like a hawk.

⚡️ Sanemi Shinazugawa “WHAT THE HELL TOOK YOU SO LONG?!?!” He’s yelling, not because he’s mad at you, but because he’s mad at himself for not going after you. You get pulled into the most aggressively protective hug of your life, and he doesn’t even care about your injuries. “You scared the absolute shit outta me, dumbass…”

🐍 Obanai Iguro He clenches his fists when he sees you, jaw tight, eyes wide. Then: “…You’re hurt.” Softly. He wraps your wounds in silence, barely speaking, but Kaburamaru curls around your hand like he’s missed you too. When you fall asleep, he quietly whispers, “Don’t leave me like that again…”

🌊 Giyuu Tomioka Completely frozen when you return. Everyone else is shouting or crying and he just—stands there. Then finally walks up and pulls you into a hug, tight and trembling. “I thought you died.” It’s the most emotional you’ve ever seen him.

💎 Gyomei Himejima Falls to his knees and cries instantly. Holds your hand to his face. “I prayed for your return every day… thank you for coming back to us.” He doesn’t leave your side at all during your recovery, and even makes sure no one disturbs your rest.

🎨 Shinobu Kocho Smiles at you when you come back, even jokes: “Hmm~ That’s quite the dramatic entrance.” But when she’s treating your wounds, her hands are shaking. “I was worried sick. Don’t do that again, Y/N… or I’ll poison you myself.”

🍡 Kamaboko Squad Reactions 🍡

💚 Tanjiro Kamado Breaks down crying the second he sees you. Tanjiro cries LOUD and UGLY. “You’re okay… You’re okay…” He doesn’t let go of your hand for hours, constantly asking if you’re comfortable and warm enough and if you need anything at all.

💖 Nezuko Kamado She launches at you and hugs you tight while squeaking and purring like a kitten. She stays by your side in her mini form and won’t let anyone else take care of you except for herself.

⚡ Zenitsu Agatsuma WAILS “Y/N-CHANNNN I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONE!!!” He’s dramatically sobbing but also won’t stop checking your bandages and bringing you soup. He stares at you constantly, as if he can’t believe you’re real.

💪 Inosuke Hashibira Charges you full speed and tackles you—only to realize you’re injured and panic. “WHAT THE HELL! WHY’D YOU GO AND SCARE ME LIKE THAT?!” Grumpy but protective. He camps out next to you and glares at anyone who comes too close.

🔫 Genya Shinazugawa Silent tears. He sees you and his eyes go wide, and then he just walks over and crushes you into a hug. “Don’t… don’t do that again. Ever.” It’s the most emotional you’ve ever seen him. He checks on you 24/7 even when you’re asleep.

🩷 Douma “Oh, you’re alive! How fun~!” Pretends he’s not bothered, but there’s a frantic twitch in his eye and he’s way too clingy after you return. Refuses to let you go anywhere alone ever again. “You almost broke my heart, darling~♡”

🔥 Akaza Instantly goes into panic mode. “Who did this to you?! Where were you?!” He’s so angry and guilty, even if it wasn’t his fault. He tends your wounds in silence, but his hand is always gripping yours tightly. He swears to never let you out of his sight again.

🦠 Kokushibo He stands still, the way a statue might, and then slowly walks over. “…You live.” He’s visibly shaken. Offers no words of affection, but spends every moment by your side. Your favorite drink appears next to your bed. He does everything silently—but it’s his way of showing care.

💀 Muzan Kibutsuji Absolutely livid—but hides it behind a chilling calmness. “You were gone. You almost died. I should kill whoever let that happen.” He has a protective obsession. You’re immediately moved somewhere safer and watched constantly. But when he thinks you're asleep, he sits beside you, gently brushing your hair from your face with a soft sigh.

[hyukalyptus]

txt reaction when they’re making love to you for the first time, you’re shy and want the lights off, but they urge you to keep them on and end up finding your healed body scars. Is that angsty?

HELL YEAH THIS IS ANGSTY i love it. lets do some hcs,hmm?? im kinda nervous for this one lmao. i feel like my answers may be a bit cringe but i don't care lmfao. maybe a tad self indulgent MWAHAHA

cw. lots of talk of scars and of self harm (nothing graphic, just talking about scars, not the actual harming), kinda cheesy i think?, i tried really hard to not make it cheesy though, sex implied but nothing graphic there, kissing, swearing.

hcs under cut. again, this talks about self harm.

yeonjun is quiet at first. you can feel the moment he sees them. it happens every time. and you still don't really know how to prepare or react. should you act like they don't exist? address the elephant in the room? cover them up with the blankets? your internal argument is interrupted, though. "i see them," he says. no sugarcoating things. which might be your favorite approach so far. you let out a quiet laugh. he says, "honestly, i was already impressed by you." then he grazes his fingertips over them. "now I’m just kinda intimidated." u raise a brow, unsure if he's joking. "you went through all that, and you're still here like it's nothing." you take a deep breath. then he looks into ur eyes and says, "you're even more of a badass than I thought." and you can tell that it's not a stupid line he pulled out of his ass. he's dead serious. and when he leans in to kiss you again, he shows you just how much he wants you.

soobin i think would be very quiet about it. like not really making many comments for a while. but not out of shock or confusion or pity. just an acceptance of who you are. like he's undressing you gently and finally sees your bare body in the light and starts noticing them slowly, his eager hands slowing down. he looks at it for a second while u carefully watch his reaction and then he leans down to press the softest kiss to one. again, not a performative pity party, not feeling sorry for you, and definitely not wanting to "save" you like some have wanted in the past. it's almost in admiration or reverence. and he kisses more of them, saying i see you without speaking.

beomgyu notices them when he lifts your shirt off, eyes slowly trailing down before catching on the thin lines as a flicker of awareness flits across his eyes. you've done this before, though, and with worse lighting. it's not so scary anymore. "yeah," you start. "they’re what you think they are." and he just nods, "okay." and there's this beat of silence before you finally ask, "you good?" he nods with a chuckle and says, "just trying not to say something stupid." a small smile tugs at the corners of ur lips. then he gently rests his palm on ur stomach and says, "it's just..." he takes a deep breath. "ur still here. and you let me be here too." he smiles. "that’s…a lot, you know?" and honestly? you finally feel seen. not as someone with weird scars or some pathetic thing that's minutes away from breaking down. and he's obsessed with you.

taehyun is kinda caught up in the moment already. ur splayed over the bed, fully bare and visible in the light. and he's just noticing them, touching them to acknowledge their existence. "they're not new," you say. "i'm okay now." and the way he looks in ur eyes, a deep admiration and respect ur not sure u've ever felt, just sort of hits. he holds ur face in his hand and says, "thank you for letting me see this part of you." and it's not dramatic. just truth. and you finally feel like he's not looking at something broken. "i didn’t mean to make it a big deal," you murmur. "you didn’t," he whispers. "but it is. you could’ve kept the lights off or covered up. but you didn’t." and the kiss is so beautiful and blissful—not because he sees your scars—but because you trusted him to.

hueningkai sees them when he's kissing down your stomach. he takes them in, slowly, silently. you go still, bracing for something, but ur not quite sure for what. you just hope it isn't disgust or worse: pity. he doesn't speak. just sits back on his knees and really looks at you. "damn," he starts. "you've been through it, huh?" then his eyes flick back up to yours, something different in them now—heavier than they were before. "and i’m just really fucking honored you chose me." you blink. and it hits. you don’t say anything. just reach for him, hand wrapping around the back of his neck to rest gently. when he leans in to kiss you again, it's not careful. it's intentional. he knows what this means. and he's not afraid. and this weight lifts off your shoulders. because he saw them. and he stayed.

-

suicide hotlines:

usa national suicide hotline: 988

Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860

Blackline (centers Black, Indigenous, & People of Color): (800) 604-5841

Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line: (888) 407-4515

For text based support, THRIVE Lifeline offers 24/7 crisis support at 1 (313) 662-8209

[starrdream]

Med bay shenanigans

Anakin Sykwaker x nurse!reader summary: Anakin seems to stumble into the med bay way too often.. includes: fluff

Anakin limped into the med bay with a dramatic wince, his right hand holding his left shoulder. You glanced up from your work, already rolling your eyes internally.

“Master Skywalker,” you greeted him, trying to keep a neutral expression. “What’s going on this time?”

Anakin gave you a pained look as he approached. “It’s bad, Y/n.” He said, wincing again for emphasis. “I think I’ve really done it this time. I can barely move it.”

Anakin was so over the top about it, and you’d seen him do the same thing too many times before. He was obviously faking it, but you decided to play along.

“Again? You’ve been here, what, three times this week already?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Alright, let’s take a look then.”

Anakin carefully lowered himself onto one of the beds, his face twisted in discomfort, though it didn’t quite match his easy movements. He started to shrug off his robe, then tried his best to pull his shirt off without blowing his cover.

Nobody asked him to take any of his clothes off. Even if he was injured, he wouldn't need to do that.

He pulled one sleeve out before dragging the piece of clothing down his “injured” arm slowly, almost teasingly. You stared at him patiently, despite having a dozen other things to do instead of entertaining this behaviour.

You forcing your mind back to the task at hand. “Okay, let’s see...” you said, trying to sound professional as you gently guided his arm to examine his shoulder.

As your hands began to move his shoulder shoulder around, Anakin let out another exaggerated wince. “Oh yeah, it really hurts when I try to move it like this.” He said, his voice dripping with seriousness but not quite masking the playfulness.

“Hmm…It does feel a little stiff here.” You were teasing but kept your voice even and serious.

Anakin glanced at you, his eyes a little too bright. He leaned back a little, giving you the chance to examine him further. He lifted his arm slightly and flexed it—just enough for you to feel the raw muscle beneath.

“It hurts right here, too.” He added. “Can you feel that? Right there in my bicep. Maybe from all the training?”

You hummed, allowing him to place your hand over the tender-and completely fine-muscle.

“I see... Does this hurt too?” You squeezed his upper arm gently, pretending to give a massage of some sort.

He hisses dramatically, reaching over with his free hand to place over yours and stop the movement. He looks up at you with a Oscar worthy expression, full of pain and discomfort.

“Yeah..” He sighs defeatedly, shaking his head. “Feels a little hard, doesn't it?” He asks suddenly.

“Oh, yes, of course.” You nod, pretending to roll his shoulder around. You weren't stupid, you knew all he wanted was compliments on his physique. But hey, if that was gonna get him to stop disturbing your work-then so be it.

“Yeah, I'm glad we agree” He nodded again, pretending to think.

“I can't guarantee anything right now. I'll run some test and we'll go from there. You might need to lay off of training for a bit, just to be safe. You don’t want to make it worse.”

His face immediately fell, and you could see the flicker of genuine concern in his eyes.

You nodded, but the tiniest smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah, you should take it easy. It’s better to be safe."

Anakin’s eyes darted around, and for a split second, you saw genuine worry on his face. He shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe some painkillers or-”

You couldn’t help it anymore. You grinned and shook your head. “You were totally faking it, Anakin. I knew it.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and then he deflated, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Wait... you knew?” he asked, clearly caught off guard. “I thought I was being subtle.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Subtle? You’ve been in here more than once this week with a sore back, a bruised knee, and now a shoulder injury. It’s getting a little predictable.”

Anakin groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I wanted to spend time with you.” He muttered, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d catch on so quickly.”

You gave him a mock-serious look. “Could've just asked me out like a normal person instead of making a fool of yourself”

Anakin’s face flushed slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. For a second, he looked down at the floor, trying to hide the embarrassed smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d say yes.” He muttered. “I thought maybe if I made it a bit… dramatic, you’d notice me more.”

You softened, a little more understanding now. You weren’t entirely surprised that he had trouble just being honest about how he felt. He always came across so confident, but underneath that, he was still figuring out how to navigate real emotions.

You gave him a pointed look. “You should probably start thinking of better ways to get my attention. I’m not exactly sold on your dramatic entrance.”

Anakin grinned, looking a little more like himself. “Yeah, I’ll work on that. How about a simple ‘would you like to go out sometime?’”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart warming at the way he was slowly letting down his guard. “That’s a start,” you said, giving him a playful nudge.

Anakin’s grin widened. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You shook your head, amused by his persistence. “You’re lucky I like you, Skywalker.”

[pure-smut]

say red.

featuring: Iwaizumi Hajime x f!reader

contains: academic rivals to lovers, dom!Iwaizumi, rough s*x, degradation, dirty talk, creampie

note: all characters are over 18!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 2k

series: 1. say red | 2. say red | 3. say red

masterlist

You’d never paid attention to Iwaizumi Hajime. Just another face in the lecture hall, another voice answering questions, another serious guy with a serious face taking things so seriously.

It’s only when you’re paired together to work on a semester-long project that you pay attention to him for the first time. And wow – he’s fucking annoying.

“We need to meet up more than once every two weeks,” Iwaizumi tells you, frowning at your suggestion. “We won’t get enough done before the deadline.”

“It’ll be fiiiine,” you sigh. “The project barely contributes to our grade. All we need to do is pass.”

Iwaizumi narrows his olive eyes at you, entirely displeased.

“How are you,” he bites out. “… top of the class?”

You give him a sweet smile, throwing up a peace sign.

“Because I’m great, obviously.”

You had somewhat noticed that Iwaizumi’s name was always second below yours whenever test scores were published. It’s clear that’s a sticking point for him because he clenches his teeth so hard, you can see a muscle bouncing in his jaw.

“We’re meeting up twice a week,” Iwaizumi says, standing. When you open your mouth to protest, he gives you a hard look. “That’s final.”

You roll your eyes and shrug.

“Fine, fine.” A grin crawls across your face. “Iwa.”

He shoots you a disgusted look.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, Iwa? It’s cute.”

Iwaizumi pokes his tongue into his cheek and rolls his eyes skyward.

“Whatever.”

With that, he gathers his bag and stomps out of the lecture hall. Your gaze follows the back of him as he disappears, the smile only slipping off your face when he leaves.

“So annoying,” you mutter to yourself, packing up your own things.

But it’s only until the end the semester. You can grin and bear it that long. Plus, it’s like you said before – the project barely impacts your grades. Iwaizumi might want to force you into way too many boring meetings but you have absolutely no intention of cooperating.

*

Iwaizumi messages you his address and a time to come round to work on the project.

Gotta buy a girl dinner first before you invite her to your bedroom, you message him back. He ignores you.

Like most other students, he lives on campus with a few other roommates. You half-expect to see them when you arrive at Iwaizumi’s but he tells you he’s chosen a day when everyone else is out.

“I need some peace and quiet if I’m dealing with you,” Iwaizumi says.

“Flattered,” you reply.

His room is neat and tidy, a smattering of volleyball trophies on the shelves. You vaguely remember that he’s on the college volleyball team but you didn’t know he’s good enough to have trophies. You smooth your features into something neutral so he doesn’t know you’re impressed.

You both sit at his desk, where Iwaizumi’s already set up notepads, pens and sticky notes.

“You’re prepared,” you remark, eliciting a heavy sigh from Iwaizumi.

“I’m sure it seems that way to someone who doesn’t even bring a pencil to class.”

You swing side to side on his wheely chair as Iwaizumi launches into his plan for the project, talking you through the list of bullet points. You make noncommittal noises, your eyes drifting off.

He has kind of a nice face, you think, your gaze dropping from his short dark hair to his sharp jaw. Iwaizumi’s wearing a t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves tight around his biceps. Damn, he’s pretty built, too.

Iwaizumi continues talking as your mind wanders. You wonder if he’s a good kisser. Hmm, probably too serious for that. Only chaste tongueless kisses and missionary in the dark.

You grin at your own thoughts and Iwaizumi stops talking mid-sentence.

“What are you laughing at?” His brow furrows. “You’re not even fucking listening.”

“Uh, no, not really,” you admit, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“Jesus christ…” Iwaizumi puts his elbows on the desk, digging his palms into his eyes.

He wants to launch himself out of the window. How is it possible that you of all people beat him in class? He freezes when he feels your finger trail over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Iwaizumi looks up.

“You’re so tense,” you say. You’re not lying – Iwaizumi’s muscles are like boulders. You give his bicep a poke and realise there’s almost no give. “Maybe that’s why you’re taking this so seriously.”

“You’re just taking this too lightly,” he says, frowning.

You’re looking at him weirdly, your eyes locked onto his, and the way you’re touching his arm is making his cheeks feel warm. What the fuck is going on?

Iwaizumi’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard and you smile, knowing you’ve got him. You stand up to move over and put yourself in Iwaizumi’s lap instead. His thighs are as hard as the rest of him and it feels like sitting in an actual chair. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re kind of cute, y’know,” you say, cocking your head.

“Kind of,” he echoes, giving you a flat look. “Thanks.”

Iwaizumi’s hand rests on your thigh despite his unimpressed tone. You give him a sweet smile and trail a finger along his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there.

“Maybe you need some stress relief, hm?” you suggest, dragging your finger down to his hard chest.

“And you’re offering?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smart?” You cock an eyebrow. “Obviously, yes.”

Iwaizumi regards you, eyes sharp, and your breath hitches. Your smile nearly falters but you save it in time. It feels like he’s looking through you, into you. It’s a struggle to hold his gaze but you’ve never been one to back down. So you look right back at him.

Iwaizumi’s eyes soften and you see him smile for the first time. No, he smirks.

“Say red,” he tells you. “And I’ll stop.”

“O-okay.” You’re annoyed at yourself for stammering but something’s changed with Iwaizumi and it’s thrown you off.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“If I say red, you’ll stop,” you tell him and he gives a short nod, satisfied.

“Good.”

Iwaizumi stands abruptly, picking you up with him and throwing you on the bed. You yelp at the sudden movement, bouncing softly against the mattress.

“What-?”

You don’t have time to ask what the fuck is happening before Iwaizumi’s on you. He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly. He pushes his body between your legs, forcing them apart to accommodate his thick frame.

One of Iwaizumi’s hands grabs your hip as the other snakes around your throat, holding you with enough force for you to feel it but not so hard you’re gasping. His soft lips are in contrast to the sharp stubble scratching your skin, his tongue sliding over yours.

Okay, I might have been wrong, you think. There’s nothing chaste about this.

Iwaizumi grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy, now exposed to him as he tugs up your dress. The friction through two layers of fabric is teasing, making your hips buck, desperate for more. You moan into his mouth and he squeezes your throat.

“Needy little slut,” he says roughly.

Iwaizumi’s degrading words only serve to turn you on even more. His voice has completely changed, now deep and throaty and utterly commanding. Iwaizumi keeps one hand around your neck as his other reaches down to unbutton his jeans.

“Is this what you want so badly?” he says as he pulls his cock free.

You gasp as it slaps against your mound, sending a spark of pleasure through you. You try to nod but Iwaizumi has your throat in too tight a grip.

“Use your fucking words,” he spits. “Tell me.”

“Y-yes, I want it. Please, I want it.”

Iwaizumi reaches down and you hear a violent rip. You’re not able to look down, your head fixed in place, but there’s a cool breeze across your exposed pussy. Your mouth drops open as you realise he’s ripped your panties clean off.

Iwaizumi smirks at your reaction.

“You act like a slut, you get treated like one.”

The Iwaizumi you knew before, so serious and studious, is long gone. You look up at him, his eyes feral, and realise you’ve severely underestimated who you’re up against. He lines up the fat head of his cock with your dripping hole.

“Look how fucking wet you are already.” Iwaizumi pushes himself inside you and you give a choked moan at the feel of him stretching you. “You don’t even need me to get you started, do you? You’ll spread your legs for fucking anyone.”

Iwaizumi’s flurry of degradation is making your pussy drool for him, only spurring you both on. But a nugget of defiance forms in your chest, even as tears stick to your lashes.

“This what your needy little pussy wants?” he demands, pushing in deeper to bottom out.

His cock feels so fucking good, dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you to make your whole body feel like it’s on fire, but your determination not to let him take over fully kicks in.

“Y-yes, Iwa,” you breathe out.

Iwaizumi’s jaw clenches.

“I told you not to fucking call me that,” he grits out.

As if to punctuate, he starts to pound at you hard. Every slam pushes you closer to the edge, sending a jolt through your body to the tips of your toes. His large hand around your neck is delicious, pinning you beneath him as he fucks you raw. You sink your nails into his forearm, lustful whimpers falling from your lips.

“S-sorry…” you gasp. “… Iwa.”

Iwaizumi growls, moving faster and setting a brutal pace.

“Fucking brat.”

You don’t have the strength to talk back anymore. Iwaizumi’s cock is pulling you to the edge, making your eyes roll back in your skull as he rips an orgasm from you. Your pussy clenches down like a vice grip around his cock and a moan escapes Iwaizumi’s throat.

“Fuck… fuck…” he groans.

Iwaizumi fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, wanting to watch you bounce under him. Your walls are so slick, so hot, so fucking tight. You’re tearing down all his restraint, moaning so sweetly even as his fist is wrapped around your throat. He knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m… gonna cum…” Iwaizumi says, voice hoarse.

“Inside me,” you plead. “Cum inside me, Iwa.”

Your words tip him over the edge.

His grip tightens on your neck, almost making you dizzy, as he thrusts once, burying himself fully. The moan he makes as he comes undone inside you is intoxicating, satisfying in a way you can’t explain. Iwaizumi’s chest heaves as he half-collapses on top of you, his arms shaking as he holds himself up.

Neither of you say anything, breathless and sweat-slicked.

“Well.” You break the silence with a grin. “I dunno about you but I definitely feel better.”

Iwaizumi’s serious face returns as he rolls his eyes, pulling away from you. He tugs a few tissues free from a box on his nightstand, handing them to you first before himself.

“What a gentleman,” you coo, cleaning yourself up.

“It’s polite. I’m not a savage.”

“The way you fuck says different.”

Even though you’ve still got his cum spilling out of you, Iwaizumi’s ears go pink at your comment. He ignores you and buttons his jeans back up. Cute, you think with a smile.

You point at your destroyed underwear.

“And you ruined my panties. That was rude.”

Iwaizumi’s cheeks tint as he blushes harder.

“Yeah, sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Finished cleaning yourself up, you hop off his bed and straighten your dress. “I’ll just make sure I’m not wearing any next time.”

Iwaizumi stills.

“Next time?”

“Duh.” You put a hand on your hip. “That was great, right? And my head feels totally clear. I think I’m actually ready to listen to your project plan or whatever.”

You take a seat at his desk, hands clasped demurely on your lap and smiling sweetly.

“Twice a week you said?”

[sturnsblogs]

some idea for frat boy Chris au

•either reader or chris getting a partner as a "rebound" and end up cheating w each other.

•they went to a party got drunk maybe one of them got in a fight or walked in on with someone else and ended up leaving tg? (not sure that makes sense)

•maybe adding more tension with Nathan? Or even readers best friend..

BABY PLEASE

Fratboy!Chris X Toxic!Fwb!Reader

—

Nathan has ALWAYS had a thing for you.

Even when you treated him like a backup plan, he couldn’t help but want you.

So as soon as he found out you and Chris weren’t doing your thing anymore, he immediately slid up on your story.

Nathan:

you look really pretty.

Nathan:

i mean you always do, but that pic?

you looked…different. good different. soft.

Nathan:

sorry if that’s too much, i just had to say something

You:

no it’s not too much

it’s sweet

thank you

Nathan:

i’ve kinda been waiting to say something

just didn’t feel like my place before, you know?

You:

and now it is?

Nathan:

only if you want it to be

i’m not trying to push anything

but yeah…

i’ve always seen you. like really seen you.

You:

why didn’t you ever say anything before?

Nathan:

because he got to you first.

and you always looked at him like there was nobody else in the room

even when he didn’t deserve it.

Nathan:

i didn’t wanna be the guy waiting around

but i kinda was anyway

so here i am.

Nathan:

i don’t expect anything

just figured it was my turn to be honest.

You:

you’re kinda smooth, nate

has anyone ever told you that?

You:

because if they haven’t… they should

You:

also

i don’t think you’ve ever made me smile this hard through a screen before

You:

i always knew you were sweet

but this?

you’re being dangerous

Nathan:

dangerous huh?

should i stop?

You:

mm…

no

i kinda like it

You:

but just so you know

you’re not allowed to make me fall for you on a tuesday night over texts

that’s not fair

Nathan:

no promises

i’ve been waiting too long not to try

Nathan:

sooo…

how would you feel about hanging out sometime?

like a real hangout. just us.

could be a date. could be whatever you want it to be

Nathan:

i just wanna see you

no pressure, just… you and me

You:

hmm

depends…

Nathan:

on?

You:

are you planning on making me smile in person too?

because if so…

i might say yes

Nathan:

only if you promise to smile for me

deal?

You:

deal.

i’m free friday. pick me up at 7?

Nathan:

say less

friday at 7

and don’t think i won’t show up looking fine just to impress you

You:

i’d be disappointed if you didn’t

It was late—around midnight—when your phone started buzzing non-stop. One message. Then two. Then three. By the time you checked, you had over ten new messages. All from Chris.

Chris:

wow

u really said yes to him?

that’s funny as fuck

Chris:

you couldn’t wait like two seconds before throwing yourself at someone else?

Chris:

you’re such a fucking slut it’s crazy

Chris:

he told me

you couldn’t even pretend to give a fuck huh?

Chris:

hope he fucks you better than i did

Chris:

actually nah

you probably don’t even care

you’d take anything that gives you attention

Chris:

you’re really out here embarrassing yourself

congrats

Your fingers hovered over your screen for a minute. Your heart was pounding. That familiar sting in your chest hit hard. But you weren’t about to let him get away with this.

You:

are you serious right now?

You:

you told me to be your friend, chris.

this is what friends do now? blow up my phone & slut shame me for moving on?

You:

nathan showed me respect. something you couldn’t even spell.

You:

you don’t get to do this.

not anymore.

Chris:

i was just mad

fuck

i didn’t mean all that

You:

no. you did.

and it’s fine. now i know where we stand.

You:

don’t text me again.

Chris:

please baby i’m sorry

i didn’t mean it i swear

Chris:

i was drunk

i was pissed

i just—i freaked out

Chris:

the thought of you with him made me lose it

Chris:

you know how i get

you know me

Chris:

please don’t shut me out

i can’t take it

Chris:

i fucked up, i know i did

but i didn’t mean that shit

not really

Chris:

you know you’re not like that

i was just hurting

Chris:

i’m hurting now

please talk to me

Chris:

i miss you so much

i don’t even sleep anymore

it’s just you in my head

Chris:

just tell me you hate me or something

anything

just don’t leave it like this

—

A/N- THANK YOU FOR THE IDEAS ANGEL. ALSO do you guys prefer mean chris or nicer chris

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy yi @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn @ivysturnss @ilovemenwithlonghairr @whore4-chrissturniolo

[takenbypeter]

Call Out

Matt Murdock x reader

Words: 555

“I’m home,” Matt stated as he entered his apartment. Loosening his tie and setting his things down, he breathed out. He was relieved to finally be home after a long work day. 

After taking a tiny moment to relax he followed the sound of a busy body. Walking around his familiar room he trailed the sound of humming, followed by a few sneezes. 

Eventually coming to a stop he leaned against the frame of his bedroom entrance. With his senses he made out your body which was standing in front of the mirror pulling your shirt on. Once again made his presence known. “Hey.”

You turned around, your lips curving at the sight of him. “Matt, you’re back. I was just getting ready for work. How was your day?” 

He shrugged making his way to his bed and fully unlooping his tie as he began to unbutton the buttons on his shirt changing into something more comfortable. 

“Pretty good, we might actually have a case here to help Mrs. Gonzalez.”

“That’s great.”

Matt stopped mid button as he waited a second and you paused, unsure of what he was doing. 

“You’re going to work?”

“…yeah.”

“You’re sick.”

“It’s only a scratchy throat,” you explained. 

“And a stuffy nose, and chills, and you’re tired.”

You scrunched your face and he answered before you could ask about how he knew you were tired, “your heart rate is higher than usual, which means,” he lightly holds your elbow and moves behind you to place his chin in the crook of your shoulder, “you’re sick.”

“God, that is so freaky that you knew that,” you laughed, turning around and pushing him in the chest as you walked away not before letting out another cough. 

He followed behind, “I’m serious though, you have PTO just take one day.”

You tsked, “I know but I don’t want to take it if I don’t need it, plus they rely on me at work and I hate calling out.”

“Hmm, I’m hearing a lot of excuses but none of them are the right ones.” 

You raised a brow at his cheeky comment. “I’m fine alright, just a little bit cold.”

On hearing that he again moved close and raised a hand to your head, “it’s warm. Are you still feeling chills?”

You nodded with his hand still pressed to your head. “That’s it, give me your phone.”

Without giving a second thought, you complied. 

He opened the device and said, “call work.”

“Hey!” You jumped for the object but he held it out of your reach as the dial tone rang. 

The phone clicked as a voice emitted from the other side and Matt put the phone to his ear while you froze. 

“Hi this is Matt Murdock, I’ve stopped by a few times…right yes.” 

You stayed still as he continued to chat with your coworker. 

“Yes, a cold and so this is me calling out.”

After waiting a moment he says his thanks and goodbyes and hangs up the phone before handing it back over. 

“See, they said to feel better now, go back and change because all you’re doing this afternoon is resting.”

You do as told not before muttering a loving, “geez you’re so bossy for someone who doesn’t take sick days himself.” While Matt just laughs at your comment. 

[allllium]

Sleepy

[ Jason Todd x Reader ]

- Fluff, WC: 1005

- Jason struggles with comfort

You are usually very good at understanding things about your boyfriend, Jason. It took you no time at all to find about his nightly activities and everything about his family. But on the other hand, you can't seem to understand him at all.

You've tried not to ask him about certain things because based on hints from his family, he's had some bad shit happen in his life. More than he's been comfortable telling you so far in your relationship.

However, the more questions you don't ask, the more that seem to pop up.

You haven't asked him why sometimes he flinches away when you touch him but other times he leans in.

You haven't asked him why his hands make fists when you're trying to sleep at night.

You haven't asked him about the scar along his chest or his aversion to certain foods.

All because you're too scared to make him uncomfortable, or maybe because you don't know if you could stomach it.

You're laying bed and waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. Somehow, you take less time getting ready for bed than he does. You suspect it's because he needs a couple minutes to process everything that happened during the day.

As usual you have a million thoughts running through you're head all at the same time. 99% of them are about him.

When he finally comes into your shared bedroom and gets comfortable in bed, you're debating whether or not to talk to him about some of the things you can't get out of your mind.

You decide against it. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable or bring up any bad memories that might affect his ability to sleep through the night.

He can obviously sense your unease, you don't hide it very well.

"What's wrong?" His raspy voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Nothing, sweetheart." You try to play it off.

"Uh huh." He says blankly.

"I'm just thinking about things, is that a crime?"

"Depends on what they are." He pulls you closer to him and wraps his arms around you.

"Nothing bad."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"If someone's bothering you, you should tell me."

"Why is that?"

"Well I have an ability of getting rid of people."

"Oh my God, Jason, you can't joke about that." You look at him in amused shock.

"Who says it's a joke?" He asks, face completely serious.

"Okay no killing people on my behalf, pretty please." You chuckle and he copies. "I'm just trying to figure you out more."

"Why?"

"Cuz I want to know more about you?"

"Like what"

"Right now I want what's bothering you, and know what you want." You pull away from him in order to sit up a little bit.

"I don't want anything at the moment."

"Yes you do. If you didn't want anything your fists wouldn't be clenched and your eyes wouldn't have that look. Like you want to say something but can't."

"You really want to know?" He asks.

"Yeah I really do." You immediately reply.

"A couple months ago while we were watching a movie on the couch, you played with my hair and it was very comforting. And the best sleep I've ever had." He rambles off as quickly as possible.

"That's it? I've been driving myself crazy trying to think of explanations and you're telling me you just want me to play with your hair." You question him in disbelief. It's been months of overthinking thoughts and random mind rampages for something you haven't even noticed you were doing.

"I didn't know how to say it." He shrugs, not looking into your eyes. "It sounds childish."

"No it doesn't. Everyone has different ideas of perfect comfort and I happen to agree with yours. Jason, if you want something from me all you have to do is ask."

You lean over to give him a quick, sweet kiss.

"I'm not used to that."

"Well you better get started."

"Fine, would you play with hair so I can go to sleep, Angel?"

"Only because you asked so nicely."

It takes a second for you both to get rearranged so it's comfortable. You're now laying on your back with Jason half on his side, half on top of you with his head on your chest.

It's almost amusing how quickly he falls asleep but above all else you feel a sense of pride at the fact that you're the one giving him this feeling.

He said this was comforting. He said this was the best sleep he's ever had.

And you're the reason he's having these things.

You stay up longer than you probably should have. This time the thoughts running through your head aren't worrying or overwhelming.

They make you happy. Happy enough to fall into a very sound sleep.

You wake up to coffee on your nightstand and a missing Jason.

"Jason." You call out and he quickly comes running.

When he walks in the room, you immediately begin questioning him.

"What is this?" You ask with an ounce of suspicion. You're worried it's a repayment of some sort.

"It's coffee. A hot caffeinated drink."

"Why?"

"Because you like it and it makes you irritable for far less time in the morning."

"Jason you don't have to do things for me just because I did something for you."

"Yes I do. Because words won't let me explain how grateful I am for you."

"Since when are you so sappy?"

He sits on the bed next to you.

"Don't be mean to me right now, I'll take it away."

"Fine. Continue your speech."

"I know it's a small thing for you but I haven't felt comfort like you give me in a very long time. Maybe even ever. And I need you to know that."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to give that to you."

The next thing you know, you both have giant grins on your faces and you're both happier than ever before.

- send requests!!

[r-memberme]

hold you close | k.m

⎯⎯“Shhh.” His lips brushed against your temple, and you nearly stopped breathing. “You wiggle like that again, and I’ll take it as an invitation.”

warnings: none i think

Klaus Mikaelson was a monster. A villain. The scourge of many, the nightmare of more, the kind of man whose name alone sent people running.

Klaus Mikaelson did not cuddle.

Or so he said.

༊*·˚

It started with an accident.

The first time you caught him in a suspiciously cuddle-adjacent position, he had been asleep. Or, at least, pretending to be asleep, because Klaus Mikaelson did not just fall unconscious like some mere mortal.

You had woken up in the middle of the night, still half-dazed, only to realize that Klaus had practically enveloped you. His arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, his face tucked into your neck, one leg thrown over yours like he was trying to pin you there.

Your first thought had been, Huh. So the Big Bad Hybrid sleeps like a koala.

Your second had been, I wonder how long I can get away with this before he wakes up and denies everything.

The answer had been not long at all, because as soon as you shifted slightly, his grip tightened.

“Nik,” you murmured, biting back a smile.

Nothing.

“Klaus,” you tried again.

Still nothing.

You were fairly certain that if you peeled your sock off with your toes, it would elicit more of a reaction than your attempts to wake the thousand-year-old Original Vampire currently latched onto you.

So, naturally, you did what any sane person would do.

You poked him.

Right in the ribs.

A low, dangerous sound rumbled in his chest, but instead of loosening his hold, he only curled around you more, the weight of him now pressing you fully into the mattress.

You let out an indignant huff. “Oh, now you’re awake?”

Silence.

For a moment, you thought he might actually be ignoring you.

And then, voice thick with sleep, muffled against your skin—

“Go back to sleep, love.”

You blinked. “You’re literally on top of me.”

“Mmm.” He sounded delighted by this information.

You tried to wriggle free, but his grip was ironclad. “Niklaus—”

“Shhh.” His lips brushed against your temple, and you nearly stopped breathing. “You wiggle like that again, and I’ll take it as an invitation.”

You went still in an instant.

Klaus chuckled, satisfied, and nuzzled his nose against your jaw.

You clenched your jaw. “You do realize this counts as cuddling, right?”

Silence.

Then, after a long moment—

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Are you serious?” You snorted. “Then what exactly does this count as?”

He was quiet for another beat, and then, smugly—

“Trapping you.”

You gaped. “That’s even worse.”

He hummed, utterly unbothered, before pulling you impossibly closer.

You huffed. “I am telling everyone you cuddle.”

Klaus, voice amused and far too pleased with himself: “And who, pray tell, would believe you over me?”

Damn it. He had a point.

༊*·˚

Of course, this would have been a one-time thing.

Would have been.

Except that it kept happening.

༊*·˚

The second time, Klaus was awake.

It was the middle of the day. You were minding your own business, reading in the parlor, when Klaus appeared behind you, swiped your book from your hands, and promptly pulled you onto the couch beside him.

You blinked up at him. “Excuse me?”

He draped an arm over your shoulders and exhaled, looking—of all things—content.

You stared at him. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly.” He said it so smoothly, like he hadn’t just manhandled you into his arms.

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you dying?”

Klaus snorted. “Not unless you’ve found a way to kill an Original, love.”

You tilted your head, peering up at him. “Are you cuddling me right now?”

Klaus barely even blinked. “No.”

“…Klaus.”

“Hmm?”

“Your arm is around me.”

“Observant as ever, sweetheart.”

You clenched your jaw. “Your arm is around me.”

“Yes, we’ve established that, haven’t we?”

“Why?”

Klaus turned his head, looking at you with feigned innocence. “Would you rather I let go?”

You hesitated.

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

Klaus smirked, settled back against the cushions, and pulled you in just a little closer.

You scowled. “I am telling everyone.”

Klaus smirked, utterly unbothered. “You would not dare.”

You hated him.

You really, really didn’t.

༊*·˚

The third time, it was raining.

A thunderstorm had rolled in unexpectedly, the kind that rattled the windows and made the whole city feel like it had been swallowed by the sky.

You had been standing at the window, watching the storm roll in, when Klaus appeared behind you and wordlessly wrapped his arms around your waist.

You froze.

Then, slowly, you craned your neck to look at him. “Niklaus.”

He hummed.

“This is cuddling.”

Klaus only sighed, tucking his face into your shoulder. “Your definitions are exhausting, love.”

“This is—” You exhaled sharply. “You are cuddling me.”

Klaus, voice muffled against your neck: “Debatable.”

“Niklaus—”

“Shhh.” His lips brushed your jaw. “Just let me pretend I don’t have a reputation to uphold, would you?”

You were still fuming about it an hour later, when he refused to let go.

༊*·˚

It wasn’t until weeks later—after a dozen more incidents, after many more attempts on your end to point out the obvious, after several smug retorts on his end—that you realized something.

You weren’t actually trying to get him to admit he was a cuddler.

You just wanted to hear him say it.

To acknowledge it.

To say, I want to hold you.

To say, This is more than just a habit to me.

To say, I just love you too damn much not to keep you close.

But this was Klaus Mikaelson.

He wasn’t one for spoken confessions.

But in the quiet of the night, when his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his warmth, when he buried his face into your hair and held you like he was afraid the world would try to take you from him—

You knew.

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t cuddle.

But god help him—he would always hold you close.