#i thought i was okay. i mean i knew i wasn’t okay but i knew time would do its thing

[yoomiwrites]

We won

Note: Reader x Ekko, just because I wanted to comfort my favorite Arcane baby. Part 2

The night was still, save for the faint hum of the city recovering from the war. The fight had been won, but the cost of victory lingered in every broken building and every empty street. You climbed onto the rooftop, heart heavy but guided by a familiar pull—Ekko. He was there, as you’d known he would be, sitting on the ledge with his knees drawn up and his gaze lost in the city lights.

He looked smaller than usual, like the weight of the world was pressing him down. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if he wanted company, but then you reminded yourself: you’d stood by him through everything—through childhood dreams, whispered plans, and years of unyielding struggle. This was no time to step away.

Wordlessly, you walked over and sank down beside him. The warmth of his presence was the same as always, grounding yet fragile. You didn’t speak immediately, letting the silence breathe between you.

Finally, you reached out, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. He stiffened at first, his pride perhaps urging him to resist. But then he melted into you, his head dipping until it rested against your shoulder.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the city’s distant murmur. “It’s okay to feel everything, Ekko. Even though we won, it doesn’t mean we didn’t lose.”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond. But then you felt it—a single, shaky breath, followed by another. His fingers tightened against his knees, and you knew he was holding back tears.

“I thought it’d feel different,” he finally said, his voice rough and broken. “Winning. I thought it’d… fix things.”

Your heart ached for him. For all his brilliance, for all the things he’d built and rebuilt, Ekko was still just a boy carrying far too much. You wanted to take that burden from him, to remind him he wasn’t alone.

You thought of all the years you’d watched him grow. How he’d once rambled on about Powder, his voice bright with a crush he didn’t even realize he had. How later, he’d spoken with equal passion about his inventions, his plans, and the hope he clung to so tightly. And then there was you—always there, always listening, always fighting to keep up.

And almost dying in the process.

Your body still bore the marks of the war, a deep gash across your side and bruises that would take weeks to fade. But none of that mattered. Not now. Not when you had survived, and not when Ekko was here, alive and safe, even if his heart wasn’t yours.

“None of this is fair,” you whispered, tightening your hold on him. “It’s not fair to lose so much. But we’re still here, Ekko. You’re still here.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. They were red-rimmed, wet with unshed tears, but he didn’t look away.

“You’re always saying stuff like that,” he said with a weak laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Like it’s that simple.”

“It’s not simple,” you admitted. “But it’s true.”

He didn’t reply, but his hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. You stayed like that, sitting together on the ledge, watching the city slowly come back to life.

Inside, you knew your feelings for him would remain unspoken. Ekko’s heart belonged to the ghosts of his past, and you would never try to take that from him. But for now, it was enough just to be here, by his side, holding onto the fragile hope that tomorrow might be kinder.

[madaqueue]

EPISODE 3: A TASTE OF HONEY IN DEFEAT

satoru thought he would have no problem winning a bet he proposed, but a month is too long to go without a taste of anything this sweet.

themes/content: smut. edging, handjobs, mean-ish dom!reader, satoru being whiney lmao, premature ejaculation + he cums inside, light bondage (satoru receiving). (wk: 2.1k)

a/n: this is part of @luv-lies no-nut-november collab!!! so excited to have been a part of this, hope you all enjoy >:3

“You know I trust you, but don’t you think the ropes are a bit much?” Satoru giggles as you tighten the final knot around his wrists, shoulders bulging and arms stretched overhead.

“I know you trust me - it’s you I’m worried about, ‘Toru.”

“What, worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off you?” The smirk painting his features veers into a grimace as he winces, straining against the tightening rope.

“No. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep your hands off yourself.”

Pink lips draw into a pout. “Aw c’mon, you know I’ll be good! I’m the one who made this bet in the first place, remember?”

You hum as you tug his hands down, testing the strength of the woven cerulean adorning his skin. The headboard shakes with the movement.

“And yet, you were so willing to break the rules.”

It had been quite a sight, truly - your dear Satoru, splayed across the bed, whimpers and moans falling from his lips like honeyed rain. They landed heavy in your ears, sticky and sweet. When the door creaked open, he made no effort to stop the fervent motions of his fist up and down his cock. He was flushed from head to toe, too lost in his own pleasure to recognize the sound of your footsteps approaching. It was only when your hand rested atop his that he jerked up, clouded eyes turning apologetic.

“I know I wasn’t supposed to, I know, I just couldn’t wait-” he had babbled.

“It’s okay,” you purred, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But you knew the deal, remember? I’m the only one allowed to touch you this month, right, Satoru?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry-”

“And how close you were to cumming, too.”

“I wasn’t going to, I swear-”

You hummed and squeezed his base, earning a gasp. “You know it’s not good to lie, either. Remember, you made this bet, sweetheart. Were you really so willing to throw it all away? To lose?”

“I wasn’t going to lose, I promise, I just needed something-”

He was getting worked up, panicked thoughts racing through his mind. He braced on his forearms to sit up, but with a purposeful push you guided him back onto the sheets.

“It’s okay, my love. If my poor baby is so needy, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you something.”

His eyes widened when you pulled the ropes from under the bed, eyeing him like your next meal, a starving predator ready to pounce. And here was your prey, so ready for the taking, offering himself to you as a good piece of meat should.

And now, he’s tied up like one, too.

“I wasn’t even going to break the rules,” he whines impatiently.

Sitting back, you admire your work: your strong, determined Satoru spread and waiting. Trailing a finger down his stomach, his skin burns hot in its wake.

“That’s certainly not what it looked like to me.”

“I-”

“Because to me, it looked like you couldn’t handle going even a month without touching this needy little cock of yours.”

He pouts. “I’m not little,” he huffs.

A giggle bubbles from the back of your throat, bouncing past your lips.

“And besides, I can handle it, I swear! I made it almost the whole month, I did, I just-”

Tilting your head, you gaze down at him. “What, got too desperate? Poor Satoru, ‘The Strongest,’ couldn’t even follow the rules of a bet he made?”

Blue flashes against white as he rolls his eyes. One hand ruffles his hair, cooing down at him.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll make you beg to break this silly little bet of yours.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs, hiding the way pink creeps up his neck and decorates his cheeks, stained like flower petals. He’s soft like them, too.

A light chuckle lands in the air when your palm grazes up his length. He twitches in your hold, warm skin on warm skin.

“H-hah, see?” His mouth hangs open between the words. “Told you I could handle it.”

It’s gentle touches at first, to ease him into it: slow strokes, light fingers. And yet, he’s still wrapping his throat around whimpers.

“Aw baby, I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Your lips curl into a smile, breath hot behind them. The words come out syrupy, dripping in sugar (and Satoru has always had a sweet tooth). His stomach aches in hunger - hunger for your hands, your body, your control. Whatever you plan to do to him, he’ll swallow it whole, bigger and bigger bites until his cheeks swell and all he can taste is you.

The grip around his base tightens, running up and down. Something about your skin is so much softer than his, untainted by the cruelty he lives through, only dirtied by desire. It spreads over his skin, glistening white and sticky.

When whines begin to twist through the silence, his eyelashes fluttering to bat away the impending tears, he doesn’t have to say it - he’s close.

Just as his muscles begin to tense, you rip your hand away.

There’s a choked little cry he lets out, hurt like an animal you spared from death. One that was ready for it, for the warmth and comfort it provided.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is strained already, a high-pitched draw across his vocal cords. His eyes are sparkling and wet.

A peck to his cheek sends shivers down his spine. “Because you’re not supposed to finish, remember, silly? I’m just helping you hold up your end of the bet, after all.”

A sound like untuned violins, haunting and beautiful all the same, plays from his throat. You giggle at the music.

“C’mon, Toru - you wanted this, remember?”

“I know,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose. “Fine, fine, do whatever you want.”

You smile.

(You would have anyways)

Your gaze falls upon the aquamarine rope, the matching eyes, before trailing back down his steadying chest.

It stutters when your fingers trace up the veins of his cock.

It heaves when you cup a palm around his balls.

You squeeze.

“F-fuck,” he groans, hips lifting off the bed.

There’s a word living at the tip of his tongue, its shape burning into his mouth.

Harder.

Luckily, you know your Satoru - you know what he thinks, feels, wants. And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

The sound he makes is garbled and choked, utter nonsense. It came straight from the depths of his body, a pure animalistic response, one he couldn’t have controlled if he tried.

Already, he’s beginning to tremble in your palm - it’s getting easier to do this, make him shake like a lost leaf floating through the autumn air, held captive by the gusts of your wind. Up and down, he travels with you, because of you.

Again, you pull your hand away.

Again, he whines.

“Noooo,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. It was automatic, the expression of displeasure, ripped from him with the loss of your warmth on his.

“What’s wrong baby? You want me to stop?” It’s more fun when he has an out, when he could say no and chooses not to. When he wants this just as badly as you. “You know you-”

“No.” It's more breath than sound. “No, please. Keep going.”

And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

Precum drips down his length, covering him in remnants of desire. They cling to his skin like silky webs, woven from devotion and need. Each slick pump of your hand up and down creates more and more and more, a beautiful pearl at his slit forming one moment only to be spread by your circling thumb in the next.

Each time you reach his base, you squeeze. Each time you reach his tip, you twist. In this dance you both twirl and breathe and feel in beat, holding on to one another with sweaty hands and tired muscles.

“Remember, you can give up whenever you want,” you coo, the sweet glue of a trap.

But Satoru doesn’t dare taste, doesn’t dare step inside - he knows better.

(Right?)

“I’m not - fuck - giving up.” He tries to throw you a smile, but it lands at your feet.

Fists clench into each other, nails digging into his palms. You almost feel bad, the way he’s beginning to writhe within the ropes. It must hurt, you think, the texture soft but never soft enough - it’s nothing compared to you. In spite of his anguish, he knows better than to give up this easily. You haven’t even really begun, not yet.

When his eyelashes flutter closed, you know to pull your hand away.

He’s getting more subtle, the only sign of his impending pleasure a soft flicker of white and blue. But you recognize it, of course - his pleasure lives everywhere in him. In the way his breath catches, in the way his skin burns hot, in the way he gets all too loud or all too quiet.

There’s barely a sound this time. Instead, he just frowns, displeasure spreading across his sweet features. His lower lip sticks out, and he stares at you with cloudy eyes.

“I know, baby, I know. But this is what it takes if you want to win.”

The words don’t ease the growing ache in his core, but your voice does. Every vowel blurs the pain, every consonant gives him something to cling to. He’ll climb himself out of insanity on your breath.

Again, you wrap around him and drag him closer to the edge. Unable to pull his gaze away, he stares down it, looming, waiting. The free fall must feel nice, the wind against his skin, for a moment before he hits the ground. But with a firm hand on the back of his head, you just hold him there. It’ll be his choice whether he decides to jump. Or rather, when he decides to jump.

Another choked groan leaks from his lips when you pause. There are no words left for him to say, nothing but the agony of desire. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if it’ll make the leap any less tempting.

Hushed whispers, not quite praise, tingle his mind. Little hums of “I know,” or “there, there,” dance from your throat, and he writhes.

Distress always looked so pretty on him. Pretty tears, pretty red cheeks, pretty pouts and pretty cries. Perhaps it’s a curse that he looks like a fallen angel when he weeps - if he looked more grotesque, you wouldn’t feel the urge to bring him back into the jaws of pain.

But he lets you comfort him nonetheless, preen his wings and kiss his tears.

This time, when you stop, he thrashes. His skin burns, crisp like it had been warmed by the sun for too long. Everything is too tight, his hands, his arms, his shoulders, his stomach. They need to be loosened; they need to be released.

“Please.”

It’s so quiet, it’s almost not a word, just little sounds from his tongue.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Tears stream from glossy eyes when he looks at you. His lips quiver as he speaks.

“Please, I wanna cum. Please.”

The smile spreading across your face is cold and knowing; he looks beautiful as he falls.

“I know you want to, but-”

“I lose.” He’s panting, gasping through the plea. “I lose, I give up, I don’t care, just, please.”

Hot tears melt beneath your thumb as you swipe them away. His mouth hangs open, as though he could swallow the air, hold it inside him and let that ease the aching. But the only thing that can help him now is you, the only thing he can stomach.

“Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

A loose smile flows across his face, easy like gentle waves lapping at the corners of his thoughts. The sentence itself barely makes sense to him at this point, garbled in his lust-clouded mind. But he knows you’ll help him now; he welcomes the push over the edge.

Straddling his lap, you guide him to your entrance. Sticky and hot, he presses into you. Just as his tip enters your warmth, he hurls himself into the wind.

Everything in his body trembles, muscles tightening and contracting out of time. Eyelashes flutter, whimpers dance like petals as he comes undone.

The only thing he can do is twitch inside of you, pearly strings pulsing with each erratic breath.

Finally, he opens his eyes to find you smiling. Warm lips press along his cheeks, dried tears salty on your tongue.

“Well, you certainly lost this time,” you hum, resting your forehead against his; he looks at you like you created the earth itself, your breath in the wind and your heartbeat in the sun. “But there’s always next year, right?”

[prozacwhorehouse]

paparazzi | mgg x SNL cast member gf

Summary: comments from the paparazzi instill doubt in you, but Matthew is there as a voice of reason

this was a request but it got deleted when I was making edits so I hope this finds its way to that lovely person !

—————————————————————————

pre and post show paparazzi outside the studio wasn’t uncommon. but when speculation that you and Matthew were dating blossomed, they got more incessant and difficult to ignore. it seemed as if they were always around, with the intention of spotting the two of you and documenting it. they were constantly nagging for answers and details about your relationship, most specifically mentioning the age gap.

the both of you knew it’d would be hard for some people to understand, but the idea that you were both legal consenting adults seemed more logical and would be accepted easier. originally, you had kept the relationship private - wanting the intimate moments to be kept to yourselves, only for yourselves. eventually the love becomes to great to hide, so you started dropping hints to the public. hints weren’t enough, there were always the small few who liked to dig a little deeper, push sensitive buttons - almost always internet trolls, or worse, in person paparazzi.

no matter what, they’ll always jab at the age gap. it’s always flashing cameras followed by comments, from “your relationship is inappropriate” “she’s young enough to be your daughter” and even, “is you dating an older man rooted in daddy issues?”

a video of the interaction goes viral and all the comments are offering support for the two of you:

they are both consenting adults. those who can’t accept that need to grow up and mind their own business.

these poor angels. the paparazzi is disgusting, ill never understand why it’s still a thing

they’re both grown leave them the fuck alone

daddy issues?? holy shit. the pap is getting so much worse.

two talented people reduced to their relationship. do better

you knew accepting a job on television came with its consequences, but you weren’t going to let people who get paid to be nosy stand in the way of your dream. so, with time you had learned how to handle paparazzi with ease. what was typically praise now being sprinkled with hate, it got harder and harder to ignore.

because the more someone says something about you, the more you start to believe it.

why is he with me? is this weird? am i wrong? is he wrong?

Whenever Matthew happened to be with you during these paparazzi incidents, he’d always guide you through the crowd by the small of your back or your hand. Weaving through people wordlessly, only whispering assurances into your ear, squeezing your hand to calm your heart beating in your ears.

—————————————————————————

The whole ride home to your apartment is silent. With Matthew, you two are always talking, always sharing thoughts, making the occasional silence reason for concern.

“Are you okay? You din’t say more than a word or two at a time not the way home,” he says while shutting the apartment door behind him.

“Are we, wrong?” you turn to gaze up at him through your lashes, the look on your face hurt.

“What do you mean, angel?” he croons, concern and confusion blossoming across his face.

“Like,” you pause and scoff, trying to find the words for your question. “Is what we’re doing wrong. Being together.”

“Do you not want to do it anymore? Cause we don’t have to-” his face turns to worry, your heart dropping at the thought of him thinking you’d say anything other than no. because no matter what anyone says, he’s so in love with you he can’t even imagine losing you.

“no! oh my gosh, no.” you’re quick to assure, holding his face in your hands. it’s just exhausting. why are they so concerned with our lives? can they not just-“

“you love me?” he interrupts, looking at you intently.

“what?” you scoff in disbelief, pulling back slightly. “of course I do - why?”

“because I love you. And that’s all that matters, yeah?” he brushes his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes so lovingly. he always looks at you that way.

“It could be worse. They could be comparing me to Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smiles, causing the corners of your mouth to turn up, “and I’m definitely not DiCaprio level.”

“If you were, you would’ve dropped me when I turned 25,” you snicker and he sighs, throwing his head back.

“You’re funny, you know that?”

“I’d hope so. It’s kind of my job.”

—————————————————————————

mgg x SNL cast member taglist

@sarcasm-and-stiles @mystargirl-interlude @rubyirene @ashrrams @ghostatrixx @forevermorepassionate @saint-boudica @reidmarieprentiss @awakeforu @spencerlicious @kittycat-april @baudarling @delusional-4-fake-people @avenlymars @angelinajolie0213 @arusio @littleslayofhorrors @jezabelle9299 @jaemnationnn @princess-ofthe-pages @flow33didontsmoke

[a1ecmcdowell]

LIVEWIRE — jj maybank x reader.

livewire (n) — an energetic or unpredictable person; a force of nature. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthat boy is a livewire; he'll ruin you, or die trying.

. . . or, jj's crashout — featuring you.

includes, SEXUAL CONTENT! MDNI. kinda pwp. crashout!jj. best friend!fem!reader. forced proximity. high stakes. dirty talk. jj is vocal. p in v. unprotected sex ( do not do this they r just so ridiculous & horny ). ( semi ) public. he has absolutely no pullout game but he's forgiven for it </3

NOTES. if the door logic doesn't make any sense realistically ... that's not my business. i'm not writing for realism i'm writing for the JJ GIRLS who want 2 fuck CRASHOUT JJ. also my apology for the quote in the tagline ik its too soon still but i joke 2 cope.

Red and blue littered the autumnal afternoon sky, sirens overshadowing the lyrical chirps of the birds, the scattered winds blowing red and orange leaves down the Kildare streets. 

JJ Maybank is a fucking force to be reckoned with. In his wake, town hall’s alarms reared their deafening screeches, the aforementioned chilly winds blowing in handfuls of leaves to scatter the podiums and the foldout chairs. There’s a lone chair on its side in the middle of the well-kept grassy front courtyard. There’s glass burrowing itself in the dirt, reflecting the golden sun’s light at every which way when you turn your head. 

The other pogues are screaming at him to go, to run, and he’s shocked for a moment. Stood like a deer in headlights at the actions that he took. Who knew how much one boy was capable? All of the destruction that two hands could elicit? 

Oh, and what an empowering thought it is, too: realizing what you are capable of doing when you are pushed to the brink. 

There’s that look in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and takes off into the wood, disappearing like a speck in the small bit of forestry separating town hall from the rest of the downtown area. 

You know what that look means. This is merely the first in his rampage. Fire burns blue in the thin line of his irises, everything else overtaken by adrenaline and fucking rage. 

“Someone has to—” Kie starts, and you realize that you’ve been staring straight ahead at the trees he vanished into, eyes locked on the exact path he took. “Someone has to go, go make sure he’s okay—” 

Sarah’s eyes lock on yours. John B grimaces for a second, like he’s considering it, before he looks at you, too. Kie’s words, albeit vague, had never sounded so directed before. Pope—

Pope is getting tossed against the hood of a cop car, and suddenly, the pogues aren’t looking at you anymore. Their gazes break and shatter away from you like the shards of the window surrounding your feet. 

Your heart is racing. You. Chase him down. And what did they expect you to do? To tell him that this wasn’t him, and to stop while he’s ahead, and to hold his hand and guide him back to safety away from the cops’ sirens and cars that had already broken away from the crowd to hunt for him? 

No. This was JJ, and he wouldn’t stop while he was ahead, and he was going to take the cops on his tail like a challenge to keep going until he cracked — or they did. 

You were the only one that ever understood him, really. That was why their eyes immediately shifted to you when the topic came up that someone had to find him, because even while they wanted to help, they would only drive him further away. Not you. Never you. 

You’re turning on your heel and sprinting before anyone can realize what you’re doing. Not the screaming kooks, demanding lawyers and justice to the unlistening winds. Not the pogues, banging on the remaining cop cars to free him, free Pope, stop this fucking madness— 

It’s like a thin line is painted on the ground between you and JJ. An invisible rope, loose but growing more taut the closer you follow on his tail. 

You follow it. Follow that red string into the trees, letting it tug you along until you break out of the shadowy wood and onto main street. 

A car alarm blares. Glass shards on the trunk of it, surrounding the asphalt around it. You slow to a stop to avoid catching any of those sharp, loose pieces in your shoes. Even now that the imaginary red line has faded, you can see traces of where he went in the path of destruction he made. 

A shop’s window busted a few feet away from the car. A street pole sparking and buzzing lowly, electricity humming through the air like a siren’s song, tempting anyone it came across to touch it. Touch the livewire. 

Just a few feet away, there he is. JJ has an outdoor seating chair in his two hands, and he’s seconds from tossing it through the glass window of the cafe it was in front of. 

“JJ!” You shout, your voice faint beneath the sound of the car alarm, the sparking of the electrical fire, the hum of electricity buzzing all around you. 

His head swivels to look back at you, and he looks fucking vicious. He looks like no matter what you say, he’s not going to stop. Not here. The electricity coming from the dented-in box on the street pole is feeding directly into his veins. 

“Not supposed t’be here,” he calls back, and now that fury is directed at you. As if he ever could have stopped you from following the breadcrumbs he only ever left for you. “Can’t fuckin’ stop me.” 

You crunch glass beneath your feet as you run toward him. It’s too late to do anything about the cafe window; its pieces spill onto the glossy wood floor, some splayed onto the sidewalk. 

“Who said I’d try and stop you?” You ask him once you’re close enough. His hand runs through his mussed blonde hair, tugging the strands straight up. 

His eyes flit to you, eyebrows raised behind the loose strands falling back down over them. “M’not letting you get into this shit, too,” he says just as sternly. “It’s my fuckin’ life I’m ruining.” 

“Why?” you ask him, and it is a genuine question, even though you don’t think he’s going to answer. So you start to spit out your own theories. “Because of your dad? Because of what Luke did?” 

His eyes drop to the ground, squinting like he’s looking for something through the shards surrounding his feet. The bat. The end of it sticks out in front of your shoes. 

You bend down to grab it, holding the hitting end out toward him. His eyes are so dark when they glance at it, and then back up to you. His eyes were always oceanic, but now they seemed to be drowned out by the stormy black clouds that were his pupils. 

JJ’s eyes linger on yours. He’s never really made an effort to read you before, more of a take it on the chin sort of guy when it came to how people were, and what they meant to him. But he studied you now, and it was almost unnerving, trying to guess what exactly he saw reflected back to him. 

His fingers close around the hitting end of the bat in a tight grip, using it to pull you closer to him. He’s holding it out to the side, just so that it can’t go taut and rigid between the two of you, allowing you to be tugged closer than you would have been able to be. 

His breaths come in furious pants, audible once you were close to him. He was a livewire. He was sparking, burning everything he touched, trying to take it all to the ground. 

Destruction was always so pretty when it was at his hands. He did everything with purpose, whether it was for the good of who he cared about, or for his own grievances. 

And this sort of destruction, the kind you saw his eyes fall into once you were close enough to share breaths? It was golden and fiery, and full of promise that would break the thin line between your friendship and something else. 

You knew it in the same way that you knew how to follow that red, invisible line to him. Red because it was a bad idea, a waving red flag, telling you to stop, stop, stop. But it connected the both of you, regardless of its color; so how were you expected to?

“Feelin’ hungry?” JJ asks, voice low and almost sinful with the way that it rasped. 

You don’t mean to balk, but you do. It wasn’t a question you expected him to ask, but the double meaning in it, the innuendo laced words, had you stifling on your own words. “For what?” 

The bat slips from his grip, and it falls to hang loosely at your side. “We broke it, we buy it,” he says with a nod toward the shattered gap in the cafe’s window. “Or… not buy it.” His eyebrows bounce when he looks at you, and he leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Did you think I was talkin’ about something else?” 

Your face flushes. Then, you drop the bat to shove at his chest with both hands. “Shut up.” 

“What, you feelin’ all hot and bothered, sweetheart?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tryna get some fugitive dick before it’s tossed in the slammer?” 

Your face is hot, the trail of heat from your reddened cheeks traveling like a river stream to your lower stomach. “Shut up, JJ,” you seethe, though it has none of the fire you wish it did. You didn’t know why; you had so much of it running through your blood then that it should have made you sound more fiery than you did. 

“Uh huh,” JJ cackles, his hand lifting to the back of your shoulder, pushing you toward the broken window. Once you’re a few steps ahead of him, his hand claps on your ass. “Andele, andele! Cops on the horizon.” 

It takes every bit of your willpower to not whirl around and smack him back. You don’t, because unfortunately for you, the sting only adds to your stomach becoming molten liquid, and for the other, more pressing matter, of the cops’ lights glowing red and blue at the very end of the street. 

You duck into the hole in the glass, feet crunching down on pieces of glass and debris. He follows immediately after, though when he slips into the building, it’s more stumbling than anything graceful. 

“Head t’the back,” he huffs, nodding toward the push-to-open door behind the front counter. “M’not gettin’ fucking caught before I fuck up that goddamn realtor’s house.” 

Arguing with him is a bit useless. JJ’s never been one to listen to anyone when his mind is set on something. You knew this from the moment that you took off in his direction to find him. Still, you almost open your mouth to make the effort to stop him, so at least you could say you did try. 

He cuts in front of you, stepping around the chair he tossed through the window, hopping over the countertop. He stops when he’s leaned against the door, holding it propped for you. 

“I’d say ladies first, but someone’s takin’ their sweet ass time,” he prods, nodding in gesture to the kitchen. 

You scoff, shaking your head, as you circle around the counter, shoving your shoulder into him when you duck underneath his arm. “Some of us aren’t so akin with vandalism.” 

“Some of us,” JJ mocks, his fingers digging into your ribcage as he falls into step behind you, “need t’lighten the hell up.” 

“I’m sorry, but are the cops not literally outside? End of the road?” It’s useless to humor him and his pestering, but it makes your heart beat a little bit faster, so who are you to make it easier for him and just go along with his ploys? 

He tsks. “Semantics.” His head spins around as he takes in the room surrounding them; typical bakery style kitchen, mixers and cutting boards and ovens, sinks lined up on the back wall. There’s tall fridges and deep freezes on one side of the wall, and parallel to it was— “Aha, there we go.” 

JJ cuts in front of you again, doing a little hop and a skip as he bumps his hip into this new door, tugging the handle down as he opens it. “Pantry, or whatever,” he scoffs, his face twisting up, “doesn’t matter to me what the hell it is. Gonna have to camp out in here, you and I.” 

Of course you were. You’d signed up for this, getting involved in this round of his criminalistic habits, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have the right to be annoyed. Weren’t you lot chased by the police enough as is? 

Still, you step into the pantry, the smell of chocolate chips and something else sugary hitting your nostrils the moment you’re inside. Boxes of ingredients line the shelves, including the ziploc bag of chocolate chips. 

JJ’s snatching it up before you can even process it, diving his hand into it and popping the handful between his plush lips. “Told you. Break it, we bought it.” 

Your eyes roll. Vandalism and theft. Probably a hefty sentence, nothing that either of you could afford with Poguelandia on the brink of destruction and your debts already piled high. 

He zips the bag back up and tosses it back on the shelf. “Walkin’ around like you got a stick up your ass, sweetheart,” JJ muses, his fingers closing around your elbow. “Told y’to relax, didn’t I?”

“No,” you say slowly in response. “You told me to lighten the hell up.” 

One side of his mouth quirks in a half smile, dimple gracing his cheek in the process. “Semantics,” he repeats, and he uses the grip he has on your arm to tug you back into his chest. “I could help you lighten the hell up.” 

“I sincerely doubt it, JJ,” you huff, your expression as unimpressed as one’s could be. “You’re the entire reason—” 

His mouth crashes against yours before you can finish that sentence. His mouth is as soft as it looks, the inner shell of his lips chapped. He tastes like weed, like the taste of it is so familiar in his mouth that it embedded itself into his taste. 

You almost don’t kiss back. It’s one of those things that feels like a bad idea because it is. That pointless rule about no kissing on other pogues went out the window the moment Kie and Pope got their hands on each other, but it still felt wrong, to break one of the rules that cemented the glue that held this group together. 

You kiss him back anyways. The moment that you start to respond to his advances, his tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, pushing his way in. He starts walking the both of you backwards, deeper into the pantry, until your back hits the wall. 

JJ’s hands drop to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly to wrap your legs around his waist. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging him further in until his chest presses against yours. 

His hands let go of you, the press of his body against yours on the wall and your legs tight around his waist keep you held up. His fingers close around the hem of your dress’s skirt, tugging it up. 

Your eyes pop open, falling down to your exposed panties pressed against his denim jeans. When you glance back up at him, lips still lightly pressed to his, they’re blue again, and glimmery. 

“Tell me to stop if you want me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, stealing another kiss in the process. “Just… tryna get your mind off of—” 

“The manhunt?” You finish for him, and he laughs breathlessly against your mouth. 

“Mm, m’not doing a great job at distracting you, then,” he teases, one of his hands letting go of your dress, the other fisting the fabric as he holds it up. The free hand’s fingers slide down, down, down, until their tips are pressed on the edge of your panties. So close he could probably feel the slickness leaking through the fabric. 

“This all for me, baby?” he asks with that infuriating amusement curled around his words. “Or is it the danger of all this, too? Like bein’ an outlaw with little ol’ me?”

You aren’t even going to dignify him with an answer. Your bottom lip wedges itself between your teeth, your hands curling into fists against the fabric of his shirt. 

His middle finger starts to rub slow, lazy circles over your swollen clit through the damp fabric of your panties, his lips parted like he’s going to say something stupid about the whine that falls from your mouth—

When the sirens get so loud that it echoes around the small pantry. They don’t dissipate, either, which means…

“The door,” you choke out, nodding behind JJ to the pantry door. He’d shut it behind the both of you, but there’s a lock by the top of it, one of those chain link ones. “The lock—” You try to clarify, your brain a bit muddled. 

JJ’s head turns to glance behind him, and you watch his eyes dance up to the chain, too. He lets out a heavy sigh. “Such a damn worrier.” 

“I’m not—” 

Always useless arguing with him. He cuts you off by gripping at your thighs again with his lithe fingers, lifting you off of the wall and tugging you into his chest. 

You grab fistfuls of his shirt so you don’t fall backwards at the sudden movement, your lips curled into a scowl. 

He doesn’t seem to notice. He holds you in his arms as he walks to the door, pressing your back against this one so he can remove one hand from your leg, and lifts it to chain the lock. 

“Better?” he teases, and you’re about to scowl at him again when you watch the smile drop from his lips. 

Just as suddenly as he’d yanked you from the wall, he’s dropping to the ground, your body falling right along with him, knees crashing into the hardwood floors as you land into straddling him. Your mouth opens to gasp, or swear, or gasp and swear, when his fingers close over your lips. 

The cops. You hear them, then, the muffled voices and muddled words. Through the crack beneath the door behind JJ’s planted ass, you see their flashlights, too. 

His eyes meet yours, and he nods once, his expression grim. You blink, and his eyes are again filled with that glimmering mischief that never, in his life, has meant something good. 

And it was truly delinquent of him this time, as his hands drop to the button and fly of his jeans. Your mouth opens and closes in protest, because there’s no way he’s thinking that you two are going to fuck on some cafe’s pantry’s floor with cops right there—

“Oh, get that look offa your face,” he whispers, nosing your chin up and stealing a kiss when you’ve met his eyes again. “As long as you be quiet, what’s the big deal?” 

“You have nothing but awful ideas in that head of yours,” you snap in a low whisper, through your gritted teeth. “I’m not having sex with you right now—” 

JJ’s eyebrows raise. His eyes fall down to your slickened thighs, to the panties beneath the dress pooling his waist that he knows are wet with your arousal. 

“Fuck you.” It’s so pathetic to say, such a weak argument, but it’s the only thing that you can even think right now. Your heart is pounding in your chest with adrenaline and need and the fact that you can feel his hard dick straining in his jeans against your pussy.

JJ tips his head in a nod, his lips still quirked. “Aye aye, captain.” 

He undoes the restraints on his jeans, and his fingers disappear into the flyguard. Your eyes bounce between his face and his hands, his expression contorted in pure concentration that would be adorable if it wasn’t so seriously not. His tongue’s poking between his teeth, panting like an excited puppy, and you just want to—

“Hop on, baby,” he says triumphantly, and those stupid lips curl into an even more stupid grin. His hands pat his thighs to draw your attention downward. 

Fuck.

Your eyes must darken at the sight of him, hard and leaking precum, because he starts cackling like there aren’t police on the other side of the door, trying to cuff him and throw him in the backseat of a police car. “C’mon. Don’t be stingy now, baby, I see how bad you want it.” 

There are rare moments that JJ is right. Broken clocks right twice a day, or something like that. When he’s right, he’s always dead on, and it’s infuriating. 

You glance up at the little window in the door, and for then, at least, it’s clear. No shining flashlights beaming into the pantry you’re both camping in… 

You make bad decisions far less than JJ does. Still, like broken clocks, you both align sometimes. 

Lifting your hips off of his lap, his hands grasp at the backs of your thighs, guiding you onto his waiting cock, slapping it lightly against your pussy a couple of times before he lines himself up and drags the swollen head of it down your folds beneath your panties. He doesn’t give any warning before he pushes himself into you, a hard thrust that brings him all the way to the hilt at once.

Your lips fall open in a sharp gasp, and just barely does his hand make it over your mouth before the moan falls out of your mouth. One hand over your mouth, the other on your ass, guiding you into moving.

“As much as I love that mouth of yours,” JJ groans into your ear, low and rough like the words are being pried out of his lungs and torn through his ribs, “gonna have to keep it down this time.” 

He’s such a fucking hypocrite, though — the moment you adjust to the size of him filling you completely, stretching your inner walls to accommodate to him, and you start to move on your own? His head tips back against the door, guttural moans underneath his breath. 

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he manages, and you slam down on him again, his hand dragging your hips forward to grind your aching pussy against his pelvis in slow circles. “Oh, fuck, baby—” 

“Shut up,” you muffle through his hand, even though it’s getting to you too, his palm stifling every gasp and breathy whimper before it leaves your parted lips. 

His hand clasps tighter around your mouth, his heavy, half-lidded eyes boring into yours. “You’re not the one in control here, baby.” 

It’s easy to forget, with him stretching you out and being relatively gentle right now, that he’s higher than he’s ever been. Adrenaline turns people into carcasses of themselves; wearing them down to the bone, using every scrap of energy available. 

His blown pupils are glimmering with it. He’s daring you with nothing but a look to see what happens when you keep running your mouth. His hand relents its hold on your mouth, and the other stills your hips as you stay suspended halfway down his cock.

The whine you let out is something you’ll deny later. The gravelly laugh he lets out is something that indicates he won’t let you. 

JJ smears his hand across your mouth, taking the saliva from the corner of your lips and spreading it across them, your cheek, before his two fingers slide into your mouth. “Not so bossy now, are you, baby?” he asks under his breath, as he thrusts his fingers in and out, as he slams his hips up in that same relentless pace as them. “Not so bossy when I’m fucking that mouth and that pretty little pussy.” 

His words burn from your lower stomach to up your spine, electric everywhere they reach. You can do nothing but take it, your hands on his shoulders for some sense of stability. 

Each thrust has the tip of his cock against your cervix, has his fingers clawing along your tongue as he presses them down on it just enough to pry your jaw open. 

“Lemme see that smile, sweetheart,” he murmurs, those two fingers spreading out into a V, forcing the corners of your lips up and into a wide grin. You sneer, and all that does is make him pound into you harder. “Don’t act so fuckin’ fussy, you’re gettin’ what you wanted, aren’t ya?” 

His fingers press on your tongue again, and your lips close around them again. It’s a good distraction from the way you want to scream. Not like you’d ever put that thought in his head with his ego. 

JJ slows his pace, but each thrust is just as hard, so deep in you that you can feel each of them, each minute detail; the thick head of his cock against your cervix, every inch that stretches you further with each of those thrusts, the obscene sound in the silent room of skin slapping against skin. 

“Baby, m’not gonna last much longer,” JJ pants into your ear, his voice still as rough but with an air of desperation. “Not like this, not with how fuckin’ good you’re bein’ for me, nice and quiet while I fuck your juicy pussy— fuck, baby.” 

He drags his fingers over your lips again, this time down, down the valley between your breasts, your stomach, your navel, until they’re planted right in the hot wetness of your folds. They find your clit and begin to rub the swollen nub, slow and gentle and completely at odds with the brutal fucking. 

You’re good, though, even without his hand covering your mouth. Even with—

A flashlight beams through the glass window above the both of you. Your eyes glance up to see it, and JJ’s staring at the spotlight of gold in the center of the room, just inches from his extended legs.

It flicks left, right, and you see the glimmer in the eyes of the officer right there, face pressed to the glass, hear the doorknob jangle against the chained lock—

JJ doesn’t stop. His pace becomes quicker, more erratic, more desperate. Your jaw trembles with the effort to keep your parted lips from making any sound at all, the precipice so close that you’re terrified of whatever noise is going to come out of your mouth when you cum. 

The beam from the light swings away, disappearing as the officer walks away, muffled words through the walls separating you and JJ from them. 

It’s just in time, too, because you cum with a soft and breathless gasp, your walls pulsing around his cock, your head falling forward to bury into his collar. His moans begin to shudder in your ear, and you know that he, too, is cumming. Feel it seconds later, when your head starts to clear from the haze of ecstasy, as the warmth of his cum fills you, his cock twitching inside of you. 

JJ lifts his fingers from between your legs and pops them into his mouth, the sound of him sucking the essence of you off of them making your legs tremble around him. “Like fuckin’ sin,” he whispers reverently. 

He’s so pretty like this. All spent and molten, softening cock inside of you like an extension of you now. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, thumb brushing stray hairs off of your face in the process. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, just as reverently as before, voicing the same thoughts you’d been having about him. 

“You’re so stupid,” you say in response, not capable of telling him how much you love him, feeling it to be the wrong time, too cheesy, another thing he’ll tease you about later. 

It’s there, though, on the tip of your tongue. I love you. And you do, so much that it aches. This man that’d been your best friend since you could remember anything. This man who sacrificed everything constantly for everyone. 

He wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything anymore, you wanna say. He could rest now, you wanted to say, too. 

But it feels wrong. And there’s always another time to tell him when it doesn’t just seem like bliss-driven thoughts. There’s always another day.

notes, thoguht my grief was over but the ending made me cry for some reason that's how u know this death hit deep bc why am i crying over like four lines in a Smut pls

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Frat!Rafe x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, touchy Rafe (flirting/protective manner)

𖣘𖣘𖣘

You press both hands down in the horn.

“Let’s go fuckers it’s summer!”

You toot the horn two more times before hearing Rafe “shut the fuck up, princess! We’re coming, give us a chance!” You laugh as they stock up the back of your light blue bronco with beers and beach chairs.

Today was the first official day of Frat Summer. Meaning there were bond to be thousands of parties and hell of a load of college students getting shit faced and absolutely wrecked.

Frat Summers were like no other. Beach parties. Summer festivals. Concerts. More parties. Some hook ups. Topper and Kelce having their annual ‘how many girls they can kiss in one night’. You and Rafe wondering off on your own. Even more parties. The list goes on.

Rafe climbed into the passenger seat, leaning on the console to reach to you. Kissing your cheek he greeted “hey, you okay?” You nodded “yeah, you?” He nodded.

Topper and Kelce climbed into the back of the bronco. You looked in the rear view mirror “hey guys!” They both said their hellos.

You drove along the front, the breeze growing through your hair. The salt water smell becoming familiar yet exciting.

The boys having conversations of their own as you concentrate on driving. There was going to be a beach party this evening. To kick the summer off with a great start. You pull up to the parking lot. You took your keys out and shoved them into my denim shorts. All four of you getting out of the bronco, you all headed to the trunk.

Grabbing all the booze and beach chairs, you headed for the sand…

𖣘𖣘𖣘

The sky turning into an orange, the breeze getting ever so slightly stronger, the night started to creep up.

You held your corona bottle and danced to the music coming from some random guys speaker. You laughed with a few of your friends that showed up later throughout the evening.

A guy you and Rafe knew, since he was from another frat, started to approach you. He called out “Y/n, right?” You looked over your shoulder “who’s asking?” He chuckled “uh me actually, how’re you?” You turn around “good thanks, uh…” trying to think of his name. He laughed it off “it’s Tyler…” your eyes widen a little “Tyler!…. Right… who are you with tonight?” He nodded his head over to a group of guys “then lot, no girl today… thought you’d be here when I heard Topper and Kelce said you’d might be coming.” You nodded and sipped your drink.

God, this felt so awkward for you. You could feel Rafe’s eyes boring into your head. Well, the guys head, at least.

Rafe kept glancing over, ignoring the conversation he was in with Topper and Kelce. Keeping an eye out for you. Knowing that Tyler was a player and a fucking asshole in Rafe’s eyes. Rafe wasn’t the best, but he was better than Tyler. He treated you like you were the only woman in the world. You were a woman in his eyes, not a girl. Girls are the ones trying to get his attention or try to get in his bed. You though? We’re nothing like those girls.

Rafe had enough when he would see Tyler take another step closer to you. He handed his drink to Topper, saying ‘he’ll be back’.

Rafe casually walks over to the two of you. Acting as if he didn’t want to rip Tyler’s face off for just even approaching you.

Rafe rested his hand on your hip. He gave a nod to Tyler “Tyler, didn’t know you’d show up here…” you knew exactly what Rafe was doing. You hated it due to the cringe you felt. You were glad that Rafe looked out to you. But Rafe would purposely make things awkward so the guy would leave.

Tyler replied “yeah, thought I’d swing by, didn’t expect to be chatting with Y/n this long, eh?” He laughed as if it was a joke. Rafe didn’t laugh and you looked down to the floor resting my palm on your forehead.

Rafe looked down to you, knowing you were struggling to keep your face from cringing. He spoke loud enough for Tyler to hear “hey, sweetheart, can you grab me another drink? Please?” You sigh quietly in relief. You nodded and turn to head over to one of the many coolers.

As you start to walk away, Rafe’s hand connected with your right ass cheek. The smack causes you to roll your eyes. Knowing that was for both him and the fact he wanted Tyler to take his eyes off of you.

You headed over to the cooler grabbing two beer bottles. Using your belt buckle to open them. You walked over to where the guys had settled up their chairs. You sat in Rafe’s seat as he continued ‘chatting’ to Tyler.

After what felt like hours, Rafe returned. You glanced over to Tyler who was walking back over to his friends with his head hanging low.

You look up to Rafe “what the fuck have you said?” Rafe chuckles. Sitting on the towel next to the beach chair you sat on. He rested his head on your knee “just chatted to him that’s all…nothing too bad, princess” you roll your eyes then thought it was probably best not to push it any further.

Rafe wrapped his arm around your leg, tracing patterns into your shin with his fingers.

The night was good, summer had been kicked off to a good start. Even if Rafe had to already deal with a guy trying to chat you up. You couldn’t wait for what else summer may have for you.

𖣘𖣘𖣘

(AN: I’m missing summer sm rn, I hate winter where I live, it’s hardly snow and all rain. Anyways a smut for you all tomorrow! If you want any smut reqs they’re open! Have a good day/night)

[adoresia]

── .✦ QUIET DEVOTION

⌗ PAIRING : Megumi Fushiguro x Black!femreader

⌗ SYNOPSIS : After a long day, Megumi waits for someone important to return from a mission. As exhaustion meets quiet affection, the night unfolds with unspoken care and fleeting vulnerability.

⌗ CW : fluff!, slight hurt/comfort tones, Mentions of fatigue.

⌗ SIA HERE ! : Was bored so I wrote this Lol, I have nothing else to say 😜

The dorm room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a desk lamp casting long shadows over the walls. Megumi sat at his desk, his eyes skimming over a book, though he wasn’t really reading. His attention kept drifting to his phone, which he’d placed face-up on the table so he wouldn’t miss any notifications.

“I’ll come over after my mission, promise. It shouldn’t be too long.”

He had read that text at least twenty times now.

That was hours ago. He wasn’t worried about your safety—he knew you could handle yourself. It was more that a certain quiet anticipation had been eating at him all day. He’d never admit it outright, but he had wanted to see you the moment the morning started. He even debated texting you to come over earlier, but he settled for waiting. Megumi was used to waiting.

When the soft knock finally came at the door, Megumi was quick to his feet. He opened it to find you standing there, looking utterly exhausted, but still managing to give him a tired smile.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stepping inside.

“You’re late,” he said bluntly, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“Yeah, well, missions don’t exactly run on a schedule,” you shot back with a yawn, dropping your bag by the door and trudging toward his sofa. “Miss me?”

He rolled his eyes. “You look half-dead.”

“And yet, I’m still here,” you quipped, settling onto the sofa and stretching your legs out. “You’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?”

“I wasn’t waiting.”

“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, smirking as you caught the faintest flicker of annoyance in his expression. “Anyway, I’m here now. So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan,” he said, closing his book and standing, “was for you to get some rest, but clearly, you’re too stubborn for that.”

You shook your head, forcing your heavy eyelids open. “No way. I didn’t come all the way here just to sleep. We’re spending time together.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.” He shook his head and sat down at his desk again, watching as you tried to sit up straight, clearly fighting your fatigue. “I told you to take it easy if the mission ran late.”

“I’m fine.” You sat up straighter, as if to prove your point, but the movement only made you sway slightly before you caught yourself. “See? Totally fine.”

Megumi sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk. “You’re going to pass out in the next five minutes.”

“I am not,” you insisted, though your voice wavered with exhaustion.

He arched an eyebrow. “Right. Because falling asleep mid-sentence would really make for quality time.”

“Megumi,” you groaned, rubbing at your face to stay awake. “I’m serious. I really wanted to see you today.”

His gaze softened, but his expression remained impassive. “You’re seeing me now. That doesn’t mean you have to push yourself.”

“I said I’d come over, and I meant it,” you said, your voice quieter now, as if the last of your energy was draining away. “I just… I missed you, okay?”

His arms uncrossed, his fingers twitching slightly as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “…I missed you, too.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his honesty, and your lips curved into a sleepy smile. “See? That’s why I’m staying up. Who knows when I’ll get another confession like that out of you?”

He scoffed, walking over to the sofa and crouching down beside it. “If you think this counts as a ‘confession,’ you’re more delirious than I thought.”

“I’m not delirious,” you murmured, though your voice was muffled now as your head lolled to the side. “m’ just… happy to be here.”

“Sure you are.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, your eyes fluttering shut despite your best efforts to keep them open.

It wasn’t long before your head fell to the side, your breathing evening out. A faint snore escaped your lips, accompanied by a small trail of drool, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

Megumi sighed quietly and stood, walking over to crouch beside the sofa. His dark eyes softened as he studied your face, taking in the way your features relaxed in sleep.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered.

Megumi stayed crouched beside the sofa, his forearms resting on his knees as his eyes roamed over your sleeping face. Your features were soft in the dim light, peaceful in a way he rarely got to see. His gaze lingered on the curve of your cheek, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed, the faint smudge of drool that had collected at the corner of your mouth. He reached out and carefully wiped the drool from the corner of your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

His eyes followed the strands of hair that had fallen over your forehead, Then, with the same cautious touch, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering for a moment. His fingertips brushed against your temple. The movement was slow, almost reverent, as if he feared waking you.

Megumi’s expression softened further as his gaze traced the small details of your face—the faint shadows beneath your eyes from exhaustion, the way your lashes fanned out against your cheeks, the subtle twitch of your lips as you murmured something incoherent in your sleep.

He exhaled quietly, leaning in just enough to notice how your breaths fell in time with his. His dark eyes searched your face as though trying to commit every detail to memory: the slope of your nose, the delicate curve of your jawline, the way your expression remained so utterly serene, even when your day had clearly drained you.

In that moment, Megumi felt something deep and unspoken settle in his chest—a quiet kind of gratitude that you were there, safe and close, even if you had worn yourself out trying to keep your promise to him.

The door suddenly creaked open, and Gojo’s unmistakable voice filled the room. “Hey, Megumi, I saw y/n walk in here. I was just wondering—”

Megumi’s glare was instant and cutting. He raised a finger to his lips in a silent demand for quiet, his expression making it very clear he was not interested in waking you up.

Gojo’s eyes flicked to you on the sofa and back to Megumi, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “Ohhh, I see how it is. I’ll just—”

“Quiet.”

“Got it.” Gojo backed out of the room, shutting the door with exaggerated care.

Once the room was quiet again, Megumi sighed and slipped one arm beneath your knees and the other under your back, lifting you effortlessly. You stirred slightly, your head resting against his chest as he carried you to his bed.

“Megumi…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“Shh,” he said softly, laying you down and pulling the blanket over you.

He slid in beside you, careful not to jostle you too much. For a moment, he simply lay there, watching your face in the dim light. Then, leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quietly he wasn’t even sure if he’d said it aloud.

You stirred again, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “I heard that.”

Megumi stiffened. “Go to sleep.”

“You said it first,” you teased, turning to face him with a sleepy smile.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice laced with exasperation but not a hint of regret. “I said it first. I love you. Now go back to sleep.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, closing your eyes and nestling closer to him.

Megumi sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he closed his eyes. “Good. Now shut up and go back to sleep.”

The irony wasn’t lost on him. For someone who carried himself with such practiced indifference, who rarely expressed his feelings in words, he had just uttered the most vulnerable confession without hesitation. He huffed quietly, half-annoyed at himself and half-amused by how natural it felt with you. Maybe that’s what frustrated him most—you had a way of undoing all the walls he worked so hard to keep up.

— 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 @/𝐚𝐝��𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 !!

( note : I got the animated divider things from @/valetoria)

[juyeoz]

GOOD GRACES — YANG JUNGWON

010 ┆road to ***** (0.7k words)

You knocked on the door of classroom 126—the photography class. It was only 3:16 PM, there was no way the teacher had left so quickly, right?

“Hey!” She greeted you once the door was fully opened.

“Hello, sorry to bother you! I was just wondering if I could borrow a camera for the Yearbook club? Just for now.” You explained as she thought for a moment.

“If I’m being honest, we do use these cameras in class… Will it be back by tomorrow morning?”

“Of course! I have my own camera at home, I just forgot to bring it today and these pictures are urgent. I’ll leave it in my club room and bring it back first thing in the morning.” You said.

“Does 8:20 AM sound nice?”

She nodded at your words as a wave of relief washed over you.

“Thank you!” You said as she excused herself and went back into the class to grab the said camera.

“Why are you cheesing right now? You look stupid.”

You turned around in search of the voice and were met with Jungwon.

“First off, be quiet. Second off, what does cheesing even mean?”

“Of course you wouldn’t know.” He insulted as you furrowed your brows.

“Whatever.” You muttered and awaited Ms. A’s return.

Jungwon leaned on the lockers nearby and whipped out his phone. He had to communicate with his teammates to see how long they would take to get there.

“By the way, do you have your schedule for this week and next week yet?” You asked, hoping he wouldn’t argue with you.

“Only this week, so far. Didn’t you see in the yearbook group chat? I mentioned when I would get my schedules.” He replied with a raised brow.

“Okay, good for you! I don’t care.”

“But you just asked?”

You inhaled deeply and exhaled deeply. You couldn’t lose your mind over him—as if you don’t already—but not in front of a teacher’s classroom.

You never knew when she would come out.

“I’ll text you my schedule for practice and games from now on then.” He said while going back onto his phone.

You were glad he worked with you, but he didn’t deserve a thank you. Not at all.

“Here you go.” Ms. A said as the door swung open.

“Thank you, I’ll return it tomorrow morning, I promise.” You said and smiled at her, in which she returned.

“Let’s go.” You said sternly, your smile dropping as you turned around.

Jungwon pushed himself off of the locker he leaned on and followed you. However, he left quite a gap between you two.

He couldn’t be caught lacking.

You turned on the camera and began to adjust its settings. This photo process was supposed to be quick and easy—no complications.

“They should be at the gym by now. Hurry up.” He said from behind you.

“You’re the one falling behind!”

“I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“Neither do I.” You rolled your eyes and opened the doors of the gymnasium.

The sound of volleyballs hitting the ground around you as you continued fixing the settings of the camera.

It was way different than the one you had at home.

“Are you blind?!” Jungwon shouted, now directly behind you with his arm stretched out.

The volleyball that made its way to you was then slapped away by Jungwon’s hand.

“Sorry! I yelled heads but I don’t think you heard me.” Riki said while running up to you.

“Seriously, I’m sorry.” Riki apologized again.

“It’s okay, I didn’t get hit anyways.” You said with a smile.

“Thanks to Jungwon—”

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, I only did that for the camera. If she breaks it, the photography teacher won’t trust her ever again. Hell, she might even make her pay for it.”

“Shut up, would you?! It would be both of us, not just me.”

“I wasn’t the one who asked for the camera. I wasn’t even near you guys at the time either.”

“Yes, you were?”

“Only at the end when she gave it to you.” He said and walked over to the group of boys, dragging Riki with him.

“Don’t talk to her, she’s going to put a spell on you.” Jungwon whispered—or so he thought.

“I can hear you.” You said in annoyance.

“Good for you. Take my words with a grain of salt.”

“Just get into position. Shortest in the front, tallest in the back.” You instructed and followed them from behind.

Seriously, you hated him so much.

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© JUYEOZ

[shy-writer-999]

Hihi it’s ur girl! Could I please request a Crocodile x AFAB reader fic where he uses his devil fruit to control the moisture in the reader’s body (aka he makes her wet without even looking at or talking to or being near her). Tysm queen 💜✨🥺

my fair lady!! i’m so happy to write this for u <3 sorry it took so long, i know you sent this request ages ago. what i wrote is short and turns REALLY filthy at the end... hopefully that's okay! ~850 words and not edited much.

cw: afab reader w/gender neutral language. arousal, masturbation, penetrative sex, croc is mean/kind of a dom. minors do not interact -- nsfw content!

When you started seeing Crocodile in an intimate capacity, you noticed... changes. First, he was on your mind 24/7—the sex was just too good, he was too stern and suave, knew what he was doing and knew how to play with your body like you’d never experienced before.

And second, when he wasn’t around, you felt more feral than ever before, uncharacteristically rabid, so much so that you inexplicably got soaking wet and would have to squeeze your thighs together just thinking about him (multiple times a day).

The sudden and intense bouts of random horniness weren’t troubling, per say, but more so intriguing. You’d be minding your business and then out of nowhere you’d start feeling heat bloom between your thighs, sparks of arousal tingling as you quickly turned your panties and upper thighs into a saturated, sticky mess.

It took you far too long to put the pieces together and realize that Crocodile was responsible.

He got a sense of satisfaction out of controlling the moisture in your body with his devil fruit powers, and he had it down to a science. It was easy to make you wet and he happened to know that when he made you aroused, your body followed suit. He could tell that when he made you wet it felt good. Your body was giving into the sensation of wetness and, in turn, stimulating your brain, making you immediately and instinctively aroused. A positive feedback loop of sorts.

What amused him the most (and coincidentally got him the hardest) was using his powers to make you wet in public, when he was far, far away. But if he was up close, he'd study your face, the flush that dusted your cheeks, your shallow breaths, and distracted eyes. When you got to a certain point, he knew you would come to him.

Sometimes Crocodile teased you—he could tell that you needed him, could sense how much of a mess you were making out of yourself (and that he was making out of you), and he’d deliberately take away some of the moisture, effectively drawing out the time it would take before you lost self-control and came to him, begging him to do something about it.

Even more amusing to him was turning you away when he knew you were desperate for him. He’d shake his head, scoff (if he felt like it), roll his eyes or shoo you away to the bathroom. Imagining you taking care of yourself got him off beyond reason.

But when he decided to humor you, when he felt like indulging, he would do whatever he wanted. He’d throw you across his lap and make you beg for more, or make you straddle him on a chair and move you however he liked.

All the while, he made you ridiculously wet, so wet that you’d literally gush down your legs. Your juices were dragged down in rivulets by the cruel force of gravity, producing simultaneously embarrassing and pitiful puddles at your feet. He was entranced by those puddles. He even thought of bending down to lick them up or telling you to do the same.

Crocodile was just so mean about all of it. He had absolutely no reason to be this mean, this teasing, this scornful, but he just loved seeing you pout and beg, seeing your level of desperation rise until you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. He loved pushing you to the edge.

On occasion, Crocodile would make you take care of yourself in front of him. You’d blush crimson and be shy at first, never getting used to him just sitting there, astute, proud, and glowering. But he’d make you wetter and you’d give in, mouth hanging open in focus and brows bent at the middle.

He stayed still and watched with a sneer sometimes, not even shy about the fact that his erection grew by the second.

Another one of his favorite things about using his devil fruit powers on you was the sounds. The squelching noises sounded like music to him.

Crocodile could only hold out for so long before he had his way with you. And you weren’t going to turn him down. The thing about him was that he’d have his way with you for hours if he felt like it. He was almost incapable of doing quickies. Once he was inside of you he as determined to be there as long as he possibly could. Obviously, you had no problem with that and it was no trouble because even if he wasn’t using his devil fruit powers, he made you wet beyond what you thought was possible.

I didn't initially set out with the idea that this would be as filthy as it turned out, but what can I say!! The heart wants what it wants. I hope you liked it, queen! 🩷🩷

[hwamphwamp]

i don’t // oh seungmin

genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, teeny bit of fluff as the comfort kicks in

warning(s): swearing, spiraling but nothing bad comes out of it

word count: 1,052

“God, I’m a fucking mess.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, each syllable thick with frustration. Another sob tore through you as you braced yourself against the bathroom counter, your reflection in the mirror almost unrecognizable. Aside from the tear-streaked cheeks, you looked fine—normal, even—but your eyes told a different story. They were hollow, empty of the joy you thought they’d hold the night before your wedding.

Happiness. Excitement. Giddy nerves. That’s what you should have felt. Instead, all you saw staring back at you was exhaustion and doubt. Months of anxiety and overthinking had piled up, and now it felt like it was too late to do anything but crumble.

“Do you want me to get Seungmin?” your maid of honor’s voice came softly from the other side of the locked door, breaking through your thoughts.

“Isn’t that bad luck?” one of your bridesmaids whispered.

“They’re getting married tomorrow. That’s insane,” another added.

“She needs him,” your maid of honor said firmly, cutting off the debate. “Fuck bad luck. She needs him.”

You didn’t even protest when she made the call. Deep down, you knew she was right. Minutes passed as your bridesmaids shuffled out of the suite, leaving only your maid of honor to keep you silent company. The faint murmur of voices outside the bathroom door announced Seungmin’s arrival. Then came the softest knock you’d ever heard, followed by his voice, steady and calm.

“I’m not going to make you open the door,” he said gently. “But I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

Seungmin’s patience was infinite, but you knew he wouldn’t leave until you let him in. You took a shaky breath and unlocked the door, the sight of him immediately overwhelming you. His hair was tousled, his shirt half unbuttoned, and a faint pink flush lingered on his neck, evidence he’d been dragged away from his groomsmen’s outing. But his eyes—clear, sharp, and full of concern—told you everything you needed to know. He wasn’t leaving without understanding what was wrong.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer as his hands instinctively reached for you. “I got here as soon as I could. What’s wrong, baby?”

That was all it took. The walls you’d built crumbled as you broke down in front of him, the tears coming harder and faster than before.

“I… I ruined it,” you managed to choke out between sobs. “You were out having fun, and I ruined it.”

Seungmin’s hands settled on your shoulders, his grip warm and steady. “We weren’t doing anything important,” he said softly. “Just drinking a little and messing around at the beach. But what happened? You can tell me.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you admitted, your voice breaking under the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “It’s just… everything. The wedding. Us. All of it.”

He didn’t rush you. He simply waited as you struggled to gather your thoughts. Finally, the words came pouring out.

“I don’t know if I can marry you tomorrow. Not because I don’t love you—I love you so much it hurts—but I don’t think I deserve all of this. I don’t think I deserve you. I’ve been a mess for months, and I can’t even walk down the aisle without feeling like I’m going to fall apart. And what if we do get married and everything’s fine, but then… I ruin it? Ruin us?”

“Hey,” Seungmin interrupted, his voice steady. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away the endless stream of tears. “We don’t have to do this. We can cancel everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Cancel everything? What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ll call the wedding planner right now and cancel the wedding.”

“But…” You shook your head, overwhelmed. “You don’t want to marry me anymore?”

Seungmin let out a soft laugh, his lips quirking up in a small, reassuring smile. “Of course I do. I’ll want to marry you for the rest of my life. But not like this. Not when it’s tearing you apart.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I should’ve told you all of this sooner. I shouldn’t have said yes when you proposed if I wasn’t ready—”

“Stop,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his lips lingered, grounding you. “Don’t apologize for loving me. Don’t apologize for being honest. I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

He kissed your temple next, his lips brushing softly against your skin. Then your cheeks, wiping away the lingering tears with gentle care. Finally, he kissed your lips, slow and deliberate, his hands steadying your trembling frame. The world stilled, your chaotic thoughts momentarily silenced by the weight of his love.

When he pulled back, his hands remained on your face, his eyes searching yours. “Let’s leave,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “What?”

“Let’s leave,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “We’ll pack our bags, send an email to the planner, and get out of here. Just the two of us.”

“But the wedding—our families—”

“They’ll get over it,” Seungmin interrupted. “This is our life. I don’t care if we get married tomorrow, next year, or never. I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do,” he said, his expression softening. “Let’s do this our way. No pressure. No expectations. Just us.”

You nodded slowly, a sense of peace settling over you for the first time in months. Together, you and Seungmin began to pack, leaving behind the dress, the venue, and the weight of everyone else’s expectations. As dawn approached, you walked hand in hand out of the resort, the only witness to your peaceful exit being the young woman working at the front desk, who waved politely as you both left. The cool morning air filled your lungs with a sense of freedom you hadn’t felt in years.

The wedding didn’t matter. The expectations didn’t matter. What mattered was the love you shared and the life you were ready to build—on your terms, in your time.

And for the first time in forever, everything felt right. With Seungmin, everything would always be right.

a/n: meant for this to be the fluffiest fluff from beginning to end and ended up with this, my brain was doing a LOT last night. The word count also may or may not be a few words off 😬

next up: kwak jiseok // summer lovin’

[camillomea]

child of crime alley chapter 5: nox

and new chapter. I hope you like it. Write your thoughts in the comments. Enjoy reading. Thanks for everyone's support.

Tim was working on something on his computer when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He had only left his post once to go on patrol for an hour but had returned when the patrol was over. He had jumped when he felt a hand and grabbed the hand that was holding him. It was Jason. “Hey bird, it’s me. I’m sorry. I was calling out to you and you didn’t hear me. That’s why,” he said. Tim let go of his hand and relaxed when he saw him. Jason said, “Good reflexes little bird.” Tim asked, “Thanks. What’s the matter?” Jason said. Tim looked over there curiously and saw a tray with a plate of cookies and two mugs in it. He sniffed the air and murmured, “It smells nice.” Jason chuckled. He put the tray on the table. “Go on, eat it bird. You should eat the cookies before the vultures swarm,” he said. Tim tilted his head to the side curiously. Jason asked, “It’s not a big deal bird. What time does your shift start?” Tim looked at his watch. “It’s 4 o’clock. That means we have 45 more minutes,” he said as he picked up one of the cookies and started eating it. Jason said “You need to eat.” Tim shook his head “I’ll eat when I get there. My workplace is a cafe and they serve hot pastries at all hours, to be honest I can’t wait to go and eat.” A voice said “Do you prefer Alfred’s food to a crappy cafe?” Tim looked over and saw Damian. Jason said “Dami” in a warning tone. Damian said “What the hell?” Tim said “Kid, I���ve never had Alfred’s food in my life. So I can’t compare” he said expressionlessly. Damian flinched “That’s impossible” he said. Jason said “He’s telling the truth” Damian froze. But they knew my situation and made sure I ate without a penny even though I had money for a long time. So no matter what happens that place will always have a special place in my heart.” Damian froze at that. Jason said “Drink your drink, bird, eat it before you go to work. I didn’t make it for nothing” Tim said “Sorry for the trouble”. Jason, no need to be sad, bird, I got some for myself too, look,” he said, pointing to the tray. Tim nodded silently. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Jason ruffled his hair gently. Tim looked at him with glassy eyes. It was obvious he wasn’t used to this. Jason pulled his hand away. “Oh, by the way, Bird, I’ll drop you off, it’s cold out here, don’t freeze,” he said. Tim said, “I don’t want to bother.” Jason said, “Hey, you live in the alley, it’ll just be up the road.” Tim hesitated but nodded. “Thanks, Hood,” he said quietly. Jason said, “Of course.” Then he asked, “By the way, where do you work?” Tim said, “Uh, uh,” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. Tim asked, “Do you remember the Nox cafe in the alley?” Jason froze. “Is that the place in the alley that gives free food to anyone who can’t afford it?” Tim nodded. Jason said, “WAIT! Are you telling me you met the owner?” Tim said, “I’m exercising my right not to answer,” he said, looking away. Jason’s eye twitched. “Timmy, timbelina, timbuktu, timothea, thea now please answer me. Have you met or not?” he asked. Tim said. “Maybe.” Jason said. “Okay. So who is this person?” he asked patiently. Tim looked away and took a long sip of his hot chocolate. “Good.” Jason’s eye twitched. “Bird.” Tim said. “You wouldn’t believe it even if I told you.” Jason said. “Try it.” Tim took out his phone and typed in a name. Jason leaned over and looked at the text. He blinked. “Are you serious?” he said. Tim nodded and continued drinking his drink, closing the screen. Jason sighed. “Whoever it is, I barely ate there when I was little. I guess I’ll have to go say hello to him later.” Tim shrugged.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Because I am gay (see name above) all of my favs are gay but because dc are cowards and refuse to admit that yeah having a character damn near exclusively date redheaded friends and then making both his male close friends redheads is a lil suspicious

I have simply decided that Dick is openly bi and no one has realized it in the universe.(Titans -core 9- and Clark Kent excluded)

So here picture this.

They’re all at a diner/batburger/ wherever they chill as civilians. Are they doing important stuff, working on cases, shooting the shit, your choice- I’m lazy.

And it’s practically empty bc none of them have normal schedules and so yeah you can have lunch at 4:45am that’s a normal time to eat.

And some dude walks in and Dick just straight up freezes for a sec before hiding under the table. The dude orders to go and fucks off.

Dick gets back up and does a cartoonish ‘phew’ bc he’s extra

Jason: yo what the fuck was that

Dick: what the fuck was what?

Tim: that- you hiding under the table of our booth??

Dick: oh that

Steph: no shit worlds third greatest detective

Jason: yeah you saw that dude and freaked, I once saw you laugh in banes face and use his forearm as a jungle gym? What gives?

Dick: oh come on! You’ve never wanted to avoid an ex??

*cue spit take from character of your choice*

Steph: AN EX?!?

Dick:??? Yes

Tim looks like he’s seeing god himself parting the clouds, giving him a view of the sun

Jason is just giving Dick the how did I not know this what the fuck dude how could you not tell me stare

Dick looks at each of them: what did you think I only dated babs and Kori?? I have a life outside of our night job?? Right? Like I’ve dated many people who still don’t know what I do at night?

Steph: no do how could you not tell us about H.I.M

Dick: I mean he wasn’t really all that…nice by the time we hit the three month mark and we didn’t have much in common outside of a shared hobby

Tim who was a closeted bisexual for 5 years realizing his first ever idol the first ever Robin also liked boys: .... you dated him for three months?? when?

Dick: I don't know we broke up like 2 months ago

Steph: How was I not aware of this information??

Dick: im sorry would you like detailed information about my sex life??

Jason, traumatised:.... so when I was Robin, you and roy weren't wrestling in the bathrooms..

Dick:.....

Tim:.....

Steph:.....

Dick: yeah Jay no shit?!?

Tim: so you and Wally... were not playing Jenga when I visited

Dick:... you are adults yes? you realise that I as an adult was not going to tell twelve year olds that I was getting laid?

Steph: Dickie DIckie baby.... we knew you were fucking

Tim: true

Jason: unfortunately

Steph: we just didn't know you were also fucking men

Dick:....

Dick massaging his temples: okay so.... you know I have a thing for redheads and I notoriously befriend my exes.

Tim: yep

Jason: mhm

Dick: and none of you thought for a second that my two redheaded best friends who both have a type aka Dark haired and can do a backflip... and just decided we were totally Hetero besties

Steph: yeahhh I mean...

Tim weakly: you guys just seem

Jay: like friends

Dick deadpan: Lian still calls me dad sometimes and Wally and Linda keep asking me to swing or join a throuple.

steph: fully believed they were joking high key tho

Dick: okay, okay... so the way that I talk about Joey Wilson... just didn't tell you anything?

Jay: okay that one... was my bad actually y'all were hella gay

Tim: hey! that's no fairrr we werent there

Dick: you broke into my house Tim, you literally stalked me

Tim: that's not the same and you know it.

[ladyeyrewrites]

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 2/4

2496 words

Chapter Two of the trans!Tommy mpreg episode 8X07 rewrite

Chapter mentions dysphoria and centres themes of bodily autonomy and choice though abortion is not explicitly discussed.

Read Chapter One

Read Chapter Two on Ao3 or below the cut

To Buck’s relief, Tommy was still there when he got back from the drug store with three different brands of test. He’d read that it was good to use a variety to cut down on any chance of a false result either way.

Tommy took the Walgreens bag from Buck without a word and went into the downstairs bathroom.

Buck waited.

He paced.

He tried not to hover.

He checked his watch. Minutes ticked by. More than enough minutes for Tommy to have taken the tests and for them to have shown a result.

Buck approached the door, straining his ears for any hint of what was going on inside. Silence. “Need any help?” Buck asked.

“I know how to pee on a stick, Evan,” said Tommy, tone cutting, out-of-control, highlighting just how afraid Tommy was, how uncertain.

It wasn’t a side of Tommy that Buck had been allowed to see much of: only glimpses of anxiety under Tommy’s confident façade. It almost made Buck giddy to know that Tommy was capable of slipping. It made Tommy more real, more loveable – Buck couldn’t help himself.

“I mean do you want any moral support?” Buck asked.

The bathroom door swung open, and Tommy walked out. “I can’t look,” he said, gesturing towards where the three tests lay face down on the bathroom counter.

“Do you want me to check?” Buck asked, gut clenching. He hated how hunched over and small Tommy was making himself. It was like Buck could see Tommy building up his walls, retreating inside thick fortifications as he prepared for the world to lay siege. Buck only hoped he had time to cross the draw bridge and slip through the gate before Tommy slammed it shut and started boiling the oil to fend-off perceived attackers.

Tommy hesitated before nodding.

Buck walked past Tommy into the bathroom and turned over each test one at a time. Joy and fear warred within him as he took in the result. He wasn’t sure which he was allowed to feel right now, not until Tommy had made a choice. “I was right,” Buck said. “You’re pregnant.”

Tommy’s knees buckled and hit the floor. All six-foot-two and two hundred pounds of him collided with the hard wood with a reverberating thud.

Before Buck knew what he was doing, he was sitting on the floor at Tommy’s back, arms wrapped around him while Tommy sobbed into Buck’s forearm, soaking the sleeve of another flannel shirt Buck had stolen from Tommy with tears and snot.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Buck whispered. “I’m here. Whatever you want to do, I’m here.”

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other until Tommy’s tears stopped. Buck didn’t want to let Tommy go, but it wasn’t about what he wanted right now. “You don’t need to make a decision yet,” said Buck.

Tommy nodded. He took a shaky breath. “It never thought this would happen,” he said. “I mean I haven’t had a period in over a decade. I’m on birth control. We were always so careful except the one time we weren’t and that just happened to line up with when I changed doctors. So many little things had to go wrong all at once.”

“The perfect storm,” said Buck. Tommy’s sandalwood cologne tingled his senses, and he had to fight to hold himself back from leaning in and pressing his face to the back of Tommy’s neck and drinking in his scent, chasing the hint of Tommy’s natural musk that hid under the cologne and aftershave and shampoo scents. Definitely not the appropriate time to be doing that, especially since they weren’t even a couple anymore.

Tommy gave a mirthless chuckle. “We should get up before your leg starts to cramp.”

Buck appreciated the thought. “Kinda too late for that,” he said with a groan, tuning into the throb in his calf now that Tommy had mentioned it.

Tommy extracted himself from Buck’s arms, stood and then turned to offer Buck a hand up. Once Buck was standing, Tommy helped him over to the sofa. He pulled Buck’s leg up into his lap and started massaging the calf muscle. “You don’t have to do that,” said Buck.

“I want to,” said Tommy. “As a friend.”

That last part stung, but at least it was better than Tommy trying to run away and shut Buck out, so Buck let himself relax into the massage. He studied Tommy’s face and having a hard time discerning much beyond the fact that Tommy was clearly terrified. “What are you thinking?” Buck asked.

“I don’t know,” said Tommy. “That I’m scared that if I get rid of it, I’ll regret it, but I’m also scared that if I keep it, it’ll trigger all sorts of dysphoria while I’m pregnant. And I’m confused about feeling so conflicted. And angry. Sad.” He sighed. “But there’s joy? Which is even more confusing because this isn’t something I ever thought I wanted. I still don’t know if I do want it.”

“That’s a lot,” said Buck. Though he had some of the same feelings swirling around inside him as well. Scared that regardless of the choice Tommy made, he wouldn’t want Buck to be involved. Regret over not reaching out to Tommy sooner, before they’d found out, because pregnancy would skew everything Buck had wanted to say to Tommy about his thoughts on the future. Confusion about the way they’d broken up and why it had even happened in the first place when everything was going so well. Anger at Tommy – more of that than Buck cared to admit. And he was sad too. Sad that Tommy was sad.

“Yeah,” said Tommy. “And then there’s that voice that’s telling me to wait a second because what if all the tests are wrong and I’m not really pregnant after all?”

“You wanna schedule a doctor’s appointment,” said Buck. After Tommy nodded, he added. “Do you want me there?” And he so desperately wanted Tommy to say yes.

Tommy hesitated. He frowned, eyes narrowing in thought before he finally nodded again. “Yeah.” It came out as the faintest of whispers. “It’d be good to have a friend there and I am not going to tell anyone else about this unless I absolutely have to.”

And didn’t that just make Buck feel all sorts of complicated ways?

He was glad that Tommy wanted him there, but also sad because it sounded more and more like Tommy didn’t want to keep the baby and the more Buck let himself think about it, the more he found himself wishing that Tommy would decide to keep it. Not that that was Buck’s choice to make, but still; the thought was there, and he couldn’t unthink it.

“Okay,” said Buck.

“You can’t tell anyone,” said Tommy.

“I know,” said Buck.

“I mean it, Evan,” said Tommy.

And that just pissed Buck off. “Contrary to popular belief, I can keep a secret,” he said. Not that he could think of an example off the top of his head right now, but he was sure he’d kept a secret successfully at some point in his life. “Besides, if I start acting weirder than normal everyone’s just gonna think it’s because of the break up.”

Tommy winced. “Okay,” he said. “How’s the leg?”

Buck flexed. “Uh, better. Thanks.” He swung his leg out of Tommy’s lap. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, I should go.” But Tommy didn’t move to get off the couch. He just sat there, staring at his hands.

“You don’t have to,” said Buck.

“That’s a bad idea, Buck,” said Tommy. There he went throwing up his defences again.

“Oh, so we’re back to Buck now,” Buck shook his head. “You don’t need to put distance between us just because I’m trying to take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” said Tommy.

“Yeah, cuz you’re definitely in an emotional state where it’s safe for you to drive.” Buck couldn’t sit still any longer, so he pushed up off the sofa and started pacing around the coffee table.

“I’ll call an Uber,” said Tommy.

“Your phone’s dead,” said Buck.

Tommy sighed. “You’re not gonna let me leave, are you?”

Buck shook his head. “Not this time,” he said. “Not until we’ve booked you that appointment and you’ve gotten some rest, and I don’t know maybe had an actual conversation about why you thought it was a good idea to break both our hearts before I – according to you – inevitably and unintentionally broke your heart.” Buck gave into some of his anger, not all of it but enough to let Tommy know he was serious.

Tommy looked like he wanted to run away again. If the door had been in his line of sight, he’d probably have been eying it.

“We’re not going to talk about it just yet,” said Buck. “You’re going to book an appointment with your doctor.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and handed it to Tommy. “Then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed and in the morning, I’m going to make you breakfast and we’re going to talk.”

“You’re not going to let me get out of this conversation, are you?” Tommy asked.

“Nope,” said Buck.

Tommy sighed. “Fine.” He snatched Buck’s phone and booked an appointment for the following afternoon. Luckily both of them were off. It would also give them time to talk.

Then Buck ushered Tommy into the bathroom with a change of clothes and the spare toothbrush Buck hadn’t gotten around to throwing out yet. While Tommy was in the shower, Buck made up the sofa and fished out a charger for Tommy’s phone.

And then, since his kitchen was still a mess, and he had nervous energy to work out, so he started tidying up after his bake-a-thon. The brie had gone cold but was still probably edible, Buck hoped. He wrapped it up and found room for it around all the other baked goods – did baked brie count as a baked good? He stared into his fridge. There really wasn’t much else in there besides the baked goods. Nothing really suitable for breakfast, unless cake and cheese counted but Tommy had been pretty adamantly against the cheese and cake seemed like a poor breakfast choice even given the strange situation, they found themselves in.

So, Buck put in a grocery order to be delivered in the morning.

“I guess you’re not doing the whole keto thing anymore,” Tommy said, startling Buck.

Buck turned to see Tommy topless with his arms cross over his chest, his top surgery scars just visible in the shadows of his forearms.

Ordinarily, this would be where Buck would make some sort of suggestive joke and then Tommy would respond in kind and then what little clothes Tommy was wearing would somehow find there way onto the floor —

And, okay, Buck really needed to derail that train of thought stat before he got hard thinking about having sex with his ex in front of that self-same ex. “Yeah, well, kind of hard to recover from heart break without carbs.”

“Oh, come on, Buck!” Tommy actually yelled. It was the first time Buck had ever seen that, and it was kind of hot and not exactly helping the situation in his sweats right now. “We both know that you’ll be over your infatuation soon enough and then you’ll find someone better than me and I’ll just be a memory.”

“Fuck you, Tommy!” Buck shouted. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you. Infatuation? Is that what you thought you were to me?” Buck shook his head and lowered his voice, trying to get control of himself. “I thought you were it for me. My fucking last. And you thought you were what? A stepping stone? A place holder for my true love? Just another spin around the hamster wheel? That’s bullshit.” Buck didn’t mean to start shouting again, but he was sick of pretending like Tommy hadn’t devastated him. “I wanted to make something with you, and you got scared and rather than talk to me about your fears, you pushed the blame onto some hypothetical version of me that was just using you as an experiment. And that’s not what you were to me, Tommy.”

Buck stared at Tommy, panting, and more words spilled out. “And you just left. Said what you wanted and left. Didn’t give me a chance to say anything. And that wasn’t fair.”

“I have a house, Buck,” said Tommy, still on his “Buck” bullshit. “You asked me to move in with you when I have a house. How was I supposed to take that seriously when clearly you were acting on impulse?”

“Then you tell me to slow down,” said Buck. “You don’t crash the car. Yeah, I got ahead of myself, I own that. I got excited about the idea of building a life together. And I’ll admit, I jumped the gun. Didn’t even tell you I loved you, because I’m an idiot. But I do Tommy. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. I love you so much that my fridge is full of baked goods that I made because I can’t stop thinking about calling you.”

Tommy’s breath hitched and Buck realised that he’d gotten ahead of himself.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was going to wait until morning, I swear. And this isn’t me trying to ask to get back together, because clearly there are other things going on, but it is me asking you to stop making unilateral decisions about things that affect both of us.”

“I really fucked up, huh,” said Tommy quietly, arms still crossed, shoulders hunched, head low.

“Yeah, you did,” said Buck. “I’m gonna go to sleep.” Fuck what they said about not going to bed angry. He trudged over to the sofa. Moments later, he heard Tommy climb the stairs and climb into Buck’s bed.

“Why are my shirts under your pillow?” Tommy called down.

Buck winced at his embarrassing break-up behaviour having been revealed. Maybe he could pretend to be asleep. Only Tommy was well aware that Buck took forever to fall asleep especially when he was worked up about something. So, Buck called back. “Finders keepers.”

Tommy chuckled and even though Buck was still angry, that chuckle maybe burned some of that anger away. Enough that he fell into a restless sleep where he dreamt that Tommy had run away again, taking their kid with him and Buck spent the rest of the dream driving across the country searching for them.

He woke with a start to a text alert telling him the grocery delivery was almost there.

Buck scrubbed a hand over his face and forced himself off the sofa, body complaining with every movement. It was going to be a long-ass day.

@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck

[sanemislittledemon]

Kyojuro x insecure!reader

cw: body image issues, reader insecure over her belly, suggestive in the beginning 

an: hey everyone! I know this one is super short but I wanted to do something that wasn’t Sanemi for a change lol if anyone has requests please send them to me! I need ideas (also know that this is a safe space) T^T

“Oh fuck Kyo”

Kyojuro kisses down Y/Ns neck to her chest, his slightly rough hands coming up to massage her full breasts. He sighs softly at the feeling of her flesh molding in his hands.

He flicked a nipple with his tongue to hear her sweet voice that makes him even more excited. He took the now hard bud into his mouth and gave it a soft suck. Her voices were making a fire burn in him. Kyojuro pulled off with a wet pop “beautiful” he praised as his eyes took in her flushed body.

He leaned forward and licked a line from between her breasts down to her rounded belly. Y/N tensed for a moment but quickly forced herself to relax until she felt Kyojuros hands start to fondle her.

Kyojuros hands moved along her sides and started softly grabbing her belly while leaving kisses everywhere his hands touched. Y/N knew that it should feel good but she felt like she could vomit.

Y/N felt her heart start racing and tears welling up in her vision. Her hands flew up to cover her eyes as her body began to shake, her actions stopping Kyojuro in his tracks. The man immediately pulled away from what he was doing with a stunned expression. “Darling! Have I hurt you somehow?”

Kyojuro did the only thing he could think of in that moment and quickly grab his discarded haori, pulling the shaking woman into his arms and throwing it over her naked form. The man rocked her back and forth as she cried into his chest.

Y/N gradually stopped shaking and pulled her head back from Kyojuro “I-I’m sorry” she whispered

Kyojuro just held her to him tighter “darling please don’t apologize for me hurting you” he replied with a hint of desperation in his voice

“My darling, could you tell me what happened so I could avoid harming you again”

Y/N looked down at her hands as he spoke “y-you didn’t hurt me Kyojuro. I’m okay” she deflected but Kyojuro wasn’t letting her off that easy

He brought a hand up to run through her tangled hair and placed a sweet kiss to the top of her head “darling, you are not okay. You were shaking and I hate that I am the one that made you that way”

“my job is to care for you and I can’t do that properly if you don’t talk to me”

Y/N fisted her hands in the haori wrapped around her, tears threatening to fall again. “I-I was scared when you started touching my stomach” she whispers in a weak voice that Kyojuro could barely hear

Kyojuros eyes widened in shock, scared because of him touching there? What did she mean? He’s already loved her soft skin of her belly, the way it squished in his hands when he grabbed it to fucked into her or the way it moved as she rode him. He loved all of her.

Kyojuro was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of her voice again “I can usually act like I’m okay but today was just too much” she started as tears fell “the truth is I’m not used to people touching or even seeing it” she let out a sob that broke Kyojuro

Kyojuro was stunned at her words, act like she’s okay? Has she been feeling this way the whole time?

The man held her tightly to his chest and started to rock her again, he tried to calm his own nerves while she was crying in his arms.

“I’m going to speak okay?”

She nodded

“Darling, I love you and your body. Forgive me for not showing it enough”

“you are perfect in every way to me. It hurts that you think so lowly of yourself”

“I only do those things because I love your body. I want to hold you and give you my love”

Kyojuro placed a lingering kiss to the top of her head “I’m sorry I made you feel this way”

Y/N listened to every word he said and the more he spoke the tears stopped falling. He likes my body? My belly? Me?

She pulled back slowly from him to wipe her tears stained cheeks “you really know how to make me feel things, don’t you Kyo?”

Kyojuro smiled reassuringly at her “good things or bad things?” He asked

“Good things”

Kyojuro put their foreheads together “you need to know how much you mean to me” his words make Y/N smile and grip his haori tighter to her chest “I’m starting to realize it” he replies

Kyojuro places a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back completely. He moved her so that she was laying down on her side and Kyojuro moved in behind her to pull the woman’s back to his chest.

“Kyo? What are you doing?”

“Sleep my darling”

“But we were in the middle of something”

“I’m not going to fuck you after a panic attack. Just let me hold you for now”

Kyojuro gripped her tight and she finally gave up. Y/N sighed and lays her head down on the pillow, feeling the warmth coming off the man she loves so deeply, the man that also loves her.

[jacqueline-01]

OK I'm thinking aaron hotchner x wife!reader when he was sent to the middle east for a short bit to run a task force but then instead of him coming back for a "case" like he thought reader pulls him to the side and tells him he's gonna be a daddy for a second time! Just fluff

Mission: Daddy 2.0

A.H x Wife!Reader

Pure Fluff

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t entirely sure what he was walking into. After weeks overseas, running a special task force in the Middle East, he’d expected a quiet return, maybe a subdued evening with you and Jack. But the minute he stepped through the front door, he knew something was different.

For one, you were practically buzzing with excitement, your energy so infectious it made his jet-lagged brain suspicious.

“You’re back!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him before he could even set his bag down.

He laughed, the sound low and warm as he hugged you tightly. “I’m back,” he agreed, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “Miss me?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you said, looking up at him with a sly smile. “You hungry? Tired? Or are you up for… a surprise?”

That got his attention. “A surprise?” he repeated, his profiler instincts kicking in. “Should I be worried?”

You grinned mischievously, grabbing his hand. “Only if you hate good news. Come on, sit.”

Hotch allowed himself to be pulled into the living room, where you all but pushed him onto the couch. He sank into the cushions, his curiosity growing by the second as you began to pace in front of him, clearly trying to find the right words.

“Okay,” you started, hands on your hips. “So, you know how Jack’s been asking for a sibling?”

His eyebrows shot up, caught completely off-guard by the question. “I… do. You told him to ask Santa.”

You pointed at him. “Exactly! Which was a brilliant distraction, thank you. But, uh…” You trailed off, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“But?” he prompted, leaning forward.

“But it turns out, we might’ve beaten Santa to it,” you blurted, throwing your hands up as if to say, Surprise!

For a moment, he just blinked at you, clearly trying to connect the dots. Then his gaze dropped to your stomach—though there wasn’t a visible change yet—and darted back up to your face.

“Wait,” he said slowly, his tone incredulous but tinged with dawning realization. “Are you saying…?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin any longer. “I’m pregnant, Aaron. We’re having another baby!”

His reaction wasn’t immediate. Instead, he sat there for a beat, looking almost comically frozen. Then—like a switch had been flipped—he was on his feet, closing the distance between you in two long strides.

“You’re serious?” he asked, his voice breathless as his hands found your waist.

“Completely serious,” you replied, laughing at the way his face lit up.

He let out a stunned laugh, pulling you into a tight hug. “How long have you known?”

“A few weeks,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest. “I wanted to tell you in person, but it was torture keeping it to myself.”

Hotch leaned back, looking down at you with a mixture of awe and teasing exasperation. “You mean you let me get off a 14-hour flight and didn’t warn me I was about to have my life changed?”

You smirked, looping your arms around his neck. “I figured a little suspense would keep you awake. Was I wrong?”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “Not wrong. Just… unbelievable.” His hands slid to your stomach, resting there gently as if he were afraid of breaking the moment. “Another baby,” he murmured, his voice soft. “How do you feel?”

“Excited,” you said honestly, covering his hands with yours. “And a little nervous. But mostly excited. Jack’s going to lose his mind.”

That earned another laugh, and Aaron’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “He’s going to ask if he gets to name them.”

“Oh, absolutely. And the first suggestion will be something ridiculous, like ‘Spider-Man Hotchner.’”

“Or ‘Captain Jack,’” Aaron added dryly, earning a snort of laughter from you.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the excitement settling into something quieter but no less joyous. Finally, Aaron tilted his head, a sly smile curving his lips.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve faced international criminals, interrogated spies, and worked with some of the most brilliant minds in the world. But somehow, you still manage to outsmart me.”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him. “That’s because I’m the real mastermind in this family, Hotchner. Don’t forget it.”

“Never,” he murmured against your lips.

And as Jack came barreling down the stairs a few moments later, demanding hugs and peppering Aaron with questions, you knew this was only the beginning of a new, beautiful adventure for your growing family.

[offireybrisk]

Jo was good at pretending she was fine. For her if she said the words enough times it was believable. Jo wasn’t okay; she hadn’t been since the day she found her mother, a women who gave her up. A women that left her at a fire station when she was only a baby. No idea of how cruel the world was. How painful truth was. And her mother was scared of how much Jo reminded her of her dad, the man that hurt her. And Jo was crumbling, she was holding herself up with her arms wrapped around herself giving herself a hug. And Alex, he wanted to understand, but he had no idea the impact this truth held over Jo’s head. The surgeon the caregiver inside of her. But she felt alone, unwanted, undeserving of love. And Alex he loved her; but in the now Jo had no idea how to let her mother go, the way she came to be born. It was haunting her thoughts. 

Jo could barely look herself in the mirror without feeling disgusted with herself. She could barely drink water or stomach the appetite to eat. She avoided Alex because that man knew her from the inside out. He knew when she was upset, when she was purposely avoiding the topic, her visit with her mom, it was untouchable. And Jo didn’t want to hurt him anymore. Nor did she expect him to understand how she felt now. Her mother who abandoned her; was fearful when I touched her hand, she flinched. And her dad was a monster; and it made Jo believe her future how she ended up in the hands of Paul was part of her own DNA. And Jo felt disgusted with herself now. She couldn’t look at Alex, not when she felt alone and unbearable. 

Jo was used to hiding, to feeling like the walls were caving in, and feeling alone. She isolated herself. And even now with Alex; she didn’t know if she should lie and say Okay or be real honest with herself. Because she was hurting she felt like a disgrace of who she was. And Alex with good intentions wanted to help her. But Jo didn’t understand how. A low nod of her head shown. “ I’m trying..” her mumbled the words. Because she had no idea the next steps how to forgive herself, to pull herself out of this depressive state, and no it was wrong to get angry with Alex, for not seeing her point of view but she did. 

“ What if it changes things for me Alex? I’m not okay. I don’t think you can help here. I feel nothing. I want to be okay but sometimes I sit here and wonder if I just stop..” Stop thinking, sleep and don’t wake up and then the pain the numbness would disappear and it was awful Jo knows to say aloud, to utter outside her mind because did it mean she was tipping towards the edge?

@callmeevilspawn

You build a dream; a fantasy of the reality you want. When it came to thinking about her parents she always wondered. What they looked like? What job they had? Jo always had questions she craved to get answers to. Jo made up a dream version of her mother and father. And when that dream breaks it destroys you. 

Jo didn’t expect to ever go after her mother. She never thought she needed to. She was abandoned at two weeks old. She was left out to dry. Her mother thought leaving her at a fire station meant she’d be okay. That it didn’t make her more selfish then she was. Jo took the abandonment with a gain of salt. Once she was an adult she stopped wondering; she told herself she didn’t care. But then she was married; a place Jo never thought was possible. But she found love; she loved Alex so much. And he wanted kids; she wanted to build a family with him. But the fear that she came from a crazy genes is what triggered her; made Jo follow the lead to find her mother. She didn’t know what to expect. But she definitely didn’t think she’d find herself frozen altering her own life. 

That day; the day she sat across from her mother haunted her mind. It changed how Jo saw herself. Learning she was a product of rape; she was a child that her dad forced himself upon her mom. That’s why Ruth could barely look at her; she was tapping her hands against the table avoiding eye contact. She told her honest answers; some Jo wasn’t prepared to hear. It was the way she showed no care or emotion for her. Jo was so excited and nervous and now she felt broken. Like her vision of parents was non-existent. Jo was quiet; she wanted to feel nothing. Of course Alex asked how it went; and all she said was okay before going stone cold. Jo was distant, she was stuck in her own mind. 

She didn’t eat; she cried herself to sleep. She drank too much; she was getting dangerous; she put vodka in her water bottle barely finding the function to work. She lashed out at the man she loved. She pushed Alex away to where he didn’t want to come to loft; the place they lived. 

She was moody; she was lifeless almost. Jo wanted to debate letting go to make the pain stop. But she also wanted to get back the life she had; the happy place she at before seeing her mother. She wanted to be the wife Alex deserved She wanted to be the surgeon she once was. But the thought of going back to happy felt so hard. She was hiding herself; she was trying to breathe again. Tonight he came back; and she felt like the air returned to her body. That she could breathe again. Jo never intended on telling him; she wanted to keep this broken piece of herself hidden. But one glance; she saw the way he stood at ta distance and she broke. 

She said the words; that sounded crazy. Sounded like Jo didn’t sleep enough. But she was disgusted with herself. All she wanted was to feel whole again. Of course Alex was going to tell her how it was. Her mother didn’t matter, but she did to her. Feeling the weight of the bed shift under her; Jo arched her eyes towards the man she loved. Rolling over onto her side she leaned into his arms. Wanting to feel something; feel like she was capable of loving him again. 

“ You don’t understand. I dreamed about meeting her for so long. And when I did she wanted nothing to do with me. Because of what he did. I know I’m crazy for wanting to feel loved by her. But she’s my mom.” Nonsense and crazy is what the brunette felt like. Leaning her head into his shoulder she let eyes shut feeling a bit lighter; knowing she wasn’t harboring a secret. 

“ You make it sound so easy Alex..” Humming the comment; she took him in; holding onto the sound of his heartbeats.

[i-really-like-phrogs]

Re-design of my un-named Beetlejuice OC from back when I was thirteen

Original Reference under the cut: