#i'm running out of ideas if you couldn't tell

[stariekis]

He was a fairy.

pairing : uni stu!jungwon+ uni stu!fem reader . genre : fluff . cw : none i think . wc : 3.2K + text

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— synopsis : your boyfriend has a pretty big surprise to you, what if he changed his hair color without telling you ?

— uri's note : oh i'm so back guys ... what a better way to start posting again than making a blonde won au my shayla💔 i'm obsessed i swear :| n e ways i really hope you like this as much as i like it <3 love u all

When you got home after class you saw that your boyfriend Jungwon texted you not so long ago. You answered as soon as you entered the dorm.

You put your phone down and run to your bathroom to get ready. A surprise? What could it be.. Jungwon has always had a pretty big mouth and he was never able to keep any secrets, at least not from you.

And not only that but he also planned a whole picnic date for you, today was going to be and interesting day to say the least.

You choose to wear something comfy for the picnic; some baggy jeans and one of your jungwon’s hoodies. "Well, how do i look ?" — you asked your roommate. She looked at you and mouthed a silent ‘you look pretty’, you smiled at her compliment and hoped that Jungwon would think the same as her.

You took your keys, your bag and exited the dorm for the second time today. But this time you were actually happy to do that.

You reached the park near your school, where Jungwon told you to meet him. You sat on one of the benches and waited for your boyfriend to appear.

Not much time passed when you felt a pair of arms hugging you from behind, followed by a silent ‘hi baby' and a kiss on the cheek. Once he let go of you you turned around to look at his pretty face, the same one you've been missing the whole day.

"WHAT THE FUCK JUNGWON?" — You jumped on your seat, hands covering your mouth. You thought your eyes popped out of your skull.

So that's the surprise. He changed his hair color. His hair was now. Blonde.

He laughed at your reaction, he didn't think that you would react like that at all. Standing now in front of you he took your hands and made you stand up facing him, your face still reflecting pure shock. "So you don't like it ?" — He pouted, his hands resting around your waist as he pulled you towards him.

You touched his hair, admiring how incredibly good he looks. "Jungwon — you gulped — This is the hottest you've ever looked in your life" — As soon as those words leave your mouth he started laughing again and, taking your face in his hands, he kisses you.

"I'll take that as a yes" — He said as he pulled away. After that he took your hand and guided you to the spot he chose for your picnic date. As you walked there you couldn't stop looking at him. He looked ethereal, like a fairy, he was actually a fairy. You swear you just fell in love with him allover again.

Once you both settled everything down it was almost time for the sun to set. The rays of the sun reflecting on his face, you swear he couldn't get any prettier, but seeing him glowing like this proved you wrong.

You were able to take your gaze away from him for a second just to find a pretty little blue flower next to you. You took it and while looking at it an idea crossed your mind. "Baby — You called him. His head turned to look at you, a smile adorning his face making you melt at that same spot. Come here" — You patted the spot next to you. He got up and sat down right next to you, the closer the better, his shoulder even brushing again yours.

You took the small flower and decided to put it in his hair. He smiles at you while you did that. If you think he is pretty he feels like the luckiest man ever every time he sees you, thinking about how he managed to date someone as magical as you are.

Once you're done you pull away, admiring his face. "You are the prettiest boy I've ever seen in my life, my pretty boy" — You said while caressing his cheeks that were now tinted with a light pink blush. "I told you i'll call you that" — he smiled at your comment while shaking his head.

After that he finally decided to close the small distance between you, kissing you softly. He pushed you gently making you lay completely in the blanket he placed under you both without breaking the kiss.

He pulled away, for your dislike. Resting his forehead on top of yours not wanting to be completely apart from you he whispered a small ‘i love you’ to which you answered the same way as him.

You both laid there, the sun was nowhere to be seen now and the sky was now decorated with tons of stars that reflected in his pretty eyes. This day couldn't end better than this.

tag list : open . send an ask !

[blueaetherr]

idk if ur requests are open but pls write an aurelien fic 🙏

the love that (never) was

pairing: aurélien tchouaméni x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): angst, iwtv reference?

word count: 5.7k

summary: the one where comfort in shared history and practised narratives drive them together, even without the love

author's note: to the person who requested this time ago... i'm sorry. life's been long and i couldn't get around it until recently. i've also gotten some requests recently for aurélien so (maybe) i'll do them soon. i don't know, we'll see. anyways, enjoy!

now playing: luther by kendrick lamar ft. sza

For someone who was innately uncoordinated and spontaneous with her general actions—and had been so for most of her life—Y/N never thought she would enjoy the idea of routine.

It was a way of guiding her day, ensuring a sense of structured fluidity. It allowed her to do all that was planned, something potentially cyclical yet motivating knowing that activities prepared for the following day would be ones she wanted to engage with when she wanted to.

Like some soft decompression in the morning when there were no pressing matters to attend to. Perhaps picking oranges from the orange tree whilst appreciating the warmth of the afternoon sun and the spring breeze brushing up against her skin. Maybe talking to friends and family on the phone, doing laundry or getting some work done when it was time to clock in. Or even simply lounging in the living room and letting time run its course.

Some of these activities could be done at any time, within and beyond certain time frames. But what remained unchanged, and what she loved the most about her routine was starting hers with Aurélien... despite their interesting circumstances.

Entering the kitchen with a basket of oranges in her grasp from the back garden, a familiar voice entered her vicinity.

"Hi, ma cherie." In came Aurélien smiling galore and as always, Y/N felt obliged to return the gesture. In her eyes, he brought the sun down to earth; he was beautifully vibrant, radiant and bright, and in all ways possible.

"You're back!" She set the basket down before she approached him with a hug, allowing the two to sway for a moment or so. Pulling away she gasped lightly, feigning shock at the sight of the large bouquet in his hold. Frankly, she knew Aurélien was going to come home with flowers for her. He first did so a few years back when their relationship began and has been doing so ever since. "Are those for me?"

He tilted his head to meet her eyes, a taunting grin extending upon his lips, "If not you, then who else?" Y/N narrowed her eyes at him before pulling away with the flowers in her grasp. And Aurélien could only laugh at the moment they had just shared; he knew that she understood that it was all pleasant banter between the couple. Besides, the quick squeeze on her hand before she walked away from him always reminded her he meant no harm with his words. "Do you want to know the story behind them?"

Humming, she took the empty vase by the window sill and placed it in the kitchen sink to fill it up with water. In the meantime, she began inspecting the flowers. "Tell me. What happened?"

After every outing, big or small, Aurélien always had a story to bring back to Y/N without fail. Forever creating adventures out of simple errand runs. Recounting those subtle moments of intrigue. Almost never reserving all this positive animation for himself. He made it his mission to include her in experiences she couldn't find the time and space to be physically present in.

Selfishly, her favourite recounts were those about the flowers Aurélien would purchase. In truth, she found them the most intriguing. It was nice to discover the thought, journey and effort that shaped his decision to go for this, that or the next. So much tenderness, consideration and detail behind every bouquet, every flower, all the wrapping paper that was used—even sometimes the note that came with it all. And the story never remained the same; it differed every time whether it was simple or bizarre, with no in-between.

Aurélien took a seat by the kitchen island as he exhaled a chuckle. "Okay, well, I went to the flower market as I usually do, and I requested a bouquet of flowers. I also gave her free reign to do whatever since I know you like a little variety. The florist asked who it would be for and I said my wife and showed her my lock screen for reference."

Turning off the tap, Y/N took a quick glance at his lock screen and her lips quickly quirked into a smile. The picture Aurélien had shown the florist was of them from their vacation the past summer. Aurélien had just won the Champions League with Real Madrid and Y/N had gotten newly promoted at her job. And those two things together just made it more leisurely to indulge in their favourite art forms on vacation by the seaside; a book in hand for Aurélien (literature) and an iPod for Y/N (music). It was nothing but good vibes. "That's a really good picture of us."

He turned his phone back to himself, letting his eyes trail over the picture and hummed softly. "It is. Anyways, she got to work and the rest is history." A beat before he tapped his palm against his chest, his smile now prideful. "Also, I think she finds me handsome."

Y/N tilted her head before folding her arms. "And what makes you say that?" She had no choice but to challenge his words. Not that she didn't believe Aurélien, that wasn't the case at all. The thing was, with him, there would always be doubt in unserious situations.

"Well, she told me. And here are the flowers requested for the handsome boy— that's what she said, I swear!" He exclaimed and glanced around the kitchen like he was looking for support when she tried to conceal her laughter behind her palm though failed terribly. Did she really have such little belief in him and his words?

She released her final laugh through an exhale, rubbing a hand over her heart to calm down. "Okay, my dear. You know what? You're absolutely, right." The way he sent banter her way a few moments ago, she could return it right back to him the same way.

"Yeah, you're right; I am right." There was playful debate in his voice though it soon dissipated when Y/N placed the large bouquet of flowers—now in the vase—on the kitchen island before leaning against it in front of him. It was then that he was reminded of the story he had yet to finish recounting. One of many stories that, whether one considered all factors or just one that made up his errand runs, had Y/N in mind. "But... if it makes you feel any better," he trailed on his words, pulling her closer by her hand, "she thinks you're beautiful too."

"What—" Before she had the space to question his words, Aurélien slipped a piece of paper in her free hand. She caught his gaze and observed him with wrinkled eyebrows. The want was there to question him about his words and discover the truth either through him or the slip of paper. In the end, however, she realised the slip of paper would be more truthful.

Sighing, she unfolded the slip of paper and after quickly reading it, she found that her voice had abandoned her.

order #1011 (for the handsome boy and his beautiful wife)

Noticing her hush, he nudged her side. Now was the perfect time to secure a win over her. "So you're not going to question me this time? You're not going to fact-check it or anything?"

Suddenly, all that was once bashful about Y/N became confident and outward. A faint smirk played at her lips. Still, some modest gratitude was there; behind her words, gaze and gentle touch. "I mean whether she said it or not, we all know it's true."

He shook his head with a low hum, but he couldn't stop a smile from budding on his face. 'Cause at the end of the day, when Aurélien sent jokes in Y/N's direction or he tried to challenge her in any way, the end goal always remained for him to realise her happiness into actuality. And considering her unwavering grinning, easily accepting his touch, her eye contact that was delightful, warm and overwhelmingly engaged with him—perhaps it was safe for Aurélien to pat himself on the back.

And it would always be an extra for him as her happiness would always be his. With a low but smooth voice, he admitted heartily, "Yeah... we do."

For a moment, he was mindful of the two and everything around them. The clear schedule for the day on the fridge, the merry couple themselves, the large bouquet of flowers, the two wedding bands – connected by their interlaced hands. Soon, he was reminded of today. The particular meaning of today's date and what it should mean for the two, despite the date slipping their notices from time to time. Either way, Aurélien bared his wife a smile, one fond yet solemn. "Happy anniversary, Y/N."

And, unapologetically, she matched his energy. Here in their shared home, in their kitchen, together by touch, there were feelings maybe only Aurélien and Y/N would ever know to understand and experience as a married couple. Squeezing his shoulder—a gesture of comfort and assurance—she breathed, "Happy anniversary, Aurélien."

For many a couple's anniversary, in almost every case, was special and remarkable. A blessing, something to celebrate, something to take beyond one's familiar walls with a reception (maybe depending on the number of years together). Something to spontaneously declare to strangers on the street, an occasion to spend a careless amount of money to emphasise the care one held for another. A mark of prolonged and unconditional dedication, resilience and most importantly, love.

But for Y/N and Aurélien, things were a little different. They were somewhat unorthodox, so outside the box that one could easily forget there was a box in the first place.

The two were far from the traditional mould that was a couple. While Y/N and Aurélien were together, while they have been married for some years—celebrating their 5th consecutive married year together—by the standards of a married couple, they weren't in love with each other. Whether by the fault of their own or universe, they didn't know and they stopped trying to understand the why some time ago.

Bound and bonded to one another legally and platonically (initially and still), and that was it. No pupils were dilating when one entered the room, nor were the two constellated stars gravitating towards one another in the vast expanse of the universe. None of that and less. Put simply, the two were best friends more than they were the standard husband and wife pairing.

Yet despite these interesting circumstances, what they had now was what they had wanted when they had first gotten together.

He raised their interlaced hands together into his vision and inspected their matching rings before pressing a kiss on hers. Pulling away, his facial expression now warmer and open to wandering conversation, he wondered, "Do... do you remember that day, when I proposed to you?" Aurélien scoffed out a small laugh. "I remember it well."

A flicker of recognition passed through Y/N's eyes, the memory in mind an imperfect blend of harder times and a cause for future contentment. She huffed out a humourless breath. "How could I forget? That's supposed to be our favourite day after all."

Normally, a marriage proposal day was sweet, romantic and thoughtful. Carefully planned out down to the ring and decor and all that way to the post-celebrations. An event to be surrounded by close family and friends, and later shared with strangers online. Y/N and Aurélien's engagement, however, really only highlighted the supposed flaws in their relationship or lack thereof. I mean wow, did they stray far beyond the ideal.

Before their relationship, a few days had two best friends consuming time together doing nothing and less. Having gone through separate break-ups within two weeks, the capacity to do anything remained null for both of them. To be discarded with no regard would always be a hard pill to swallow. It had been a period of agonising devastation and what felt like targeted heartache, the only instance where they had shared collective yet particular heartbreak.

The only thing that seemed to help one and vice versa was, well, the other. Knowing that they weren't alone in their misery was comforting. It made everything a little bit more bearable and breathing in and out easier. In time, all would be alright.

And it was one late night—contained in darkness by closed blinds with crappy reality TV as the only light source in the room, surrounded by scraps of treats and leftover takeaways, leaning on one another for comfort and companionship under a shared blanket—it was Aurélien who had laughed quietly and pondered, "What if we got married?"

He didn't plan on saying that, truly. Dazed and occasionally beyond his thoughts, he almost didn't register himself speaking those words; it had barely been a complete thought in his mind. It had been an ill-formed wonder that he just let out, believing that its influence would be inconsequential to the current and future circumstances. For a moment, he thought nothing of it.

But then Aurélien came out of his daze, returned to a rational mind—actually deeped what he had said—and realised that he had really meant them with a whole heart. He had been serious and he couldn't bring himself to retract what had been said. And when he turned to Y/N all he found were imaging feelings and expressions. A hint of confusion and surprise, but trust and favour in the indirect proposal.

And so that was it. From there, Aurélien and Y/N had their wedding a few months later. One surrounded by close family and friends, and later shared with strangers online.

Though when they did get married, they got married as two lifelong best friends. There had been no romantic or intimate love between them. Aurélien and Y/N made the dangerous assumption that once they grew and got settled in this new marriage, love would naturally follow. That with time they would fall in love. That they would finally see one another from different perspectives.

But none of that ever happened. Natural time and their own efforts tragically birthed nothing between the couple.

"But, like, I wouldn't change it for the world, you know," she said, letting a hand drift along the nape of his neck. "You know that right?"

Even though they weren't in love with one another and didn't traditionally love each other as a couple, they held no bitterness about it. Aurélien and Y/N didn't fault one another for it. There was no point when it was all beyond their control. After all, they never held anything romantic for each other in any light even when others thought otherwise. From when they had just been kids, passing through their adolescent years together to coming up as young adults. They had always been null of romantic love so they weren't exactly surprised that love was nowhere to be found years into their marriage.

Perhaps it was unfortunate to hear—and when they were reminded enough about it, sometimes it was momentarily blue for Aurélien and Y/N too—but they have accepted that they would never fall in love with one another and romantic love was beyond their reach. Instead, they chose to be content with being best friends who would spend the rest of their lives together. They chose to be content knowing one would never experience heartache and misery at the hands of the other. They found assured safety in one another.

For where they lacked sufficient love, their pre-existing best friend nature held the two closely together and stretched so far. It was extraordinary and absolute to the point where others often misperceived them to be the standard "loving" husband and wife pair.

'Cause when you have two people who longed for partnership due to others' expectations, constant upset in past relationships and aligned goals for and beyond oneself– that intimacy of shared experiences– all of a sudden the idea of marriage didn't sound so bad.

To hold a remarkable understanding for each other in a way that wasn't blurred by the delusions of love, to rest up with someone who had and would always want the best for the other since the beginning of time—it all made Y/N and Aurélien cherish themselves, each other and their relationship just a little bit more. It reduced the pressure to confide in a customary marriage.

And so despite their faults, they were happy and fulfilled, and that was all they needed. Well, at least for the most part.

Aurélien bit the inside of his cheek and expressed a strained grin as he nodded. He was trying to convince himself that he truly believed Y/N's word. Of course he wanted to, but those background thoughts always seemed to irk him one way or another. Obviously, she wouldn't drop our marriage for anything else... right? "Yeah. Of course... of course."

But Y/N saw Aurélien as he was. His gaze wandering presently and the mute unsteadiness in his tone and words weren't sufficient to convince her to move the conversation forward. Her eyebrows furrowed with worry. "I heard that, you know."

"Heard what?" He tried to keep her mind busy and away from the conversation. Maintaining his gaze with hers, letting his hand linger over her waist. Still, it all wasn't enough to keep her concerns for him at bay. In fact, they never had been enough.

"What I said." It was only after Y/N pronounced those words that she realised what she had said, what she was implying by voicing her worries. Her face fell as she detached herself from Aurélien and moved away from him. "You do believe I would trade our relationship for something else."

Aurélien's eyes widened as he shook his head. "What? No, no, no." He reached out for Y/N and thankfully she didn't refuse his touch. Though her reluctance was indeed there and present—the pronounced frown on her lips, slowly folding into herself—and that's what pained him the most. He was the cause of her sudden unwillingness towards him. He unravelled her arms over her stomach and wrapped his hands over hers. He ensured, "You have it all wrong, I promise. It's just in my head. Don't worry about it. Just forget what I said."

Soon, Y/N brought herself back to Aurélien and centred her focus on him again. He told her to forget everything he had just said, to not worry about it all. And she wanted to go along with what he was insisting. She wanted to think all is okay, my husband is telling the truth but she knew couldn't. While Aurélien wasn't an open book per se, he was unintentionally expressive when he assumed otherwise. So even if he said all was perfect and okay, she usually found that her concerns were justified and now was one of those dreadful times.

"You know I can't do that." A beat. "I'll always trust you. I try not to worry if you don't give me a reason to worry. But the fact you could barely say yes to me saying that I'm content with us being together..." Her voice drifted away as she inhaled a thin breath, "I don't know, but that sounds like something I should worry about. Come on, Auré. It's our anniversary. What's wrong?"

Aurélien rubbed his thumb over her hand and mumbled, "You don't want to hear this right now." While it may be the right thing to do, he didn't know if letting Y/N in would be the right thing for them right now. He didn't want to ruin the moment. Today—their anniversary—a day Y/N cherished far more than he did. The sober mood in their kitchen really made one forget the unique occasion for the day.

"Rest assured, I do." She chuckled a bit before saying, in a small voice, reassuring and welcoming as she invited Aurélien to stand up, "I always want to hear what you have to say." It was then that Y/N realised she had to put aside those initial emotions. If he were to lift up his voice and externalise his problems, he would need an embracing space, one void of judgement and assumption.

"Okay." Leaning back against the kitchen island, his eyes drifted to the flowers before quickly returning to Y/N, whose look upon him didn't falter from curiosity and intention. "You know... you know I wouldn't resent you if you ever wanted to pursue another relationship or... ended up falling in love with someone other than me." A broken expression laced his features. Aurélien never thought he would ever utter those words, speak these fears of his into existence or allow them to provoke havoc in his marriage. Yet here he was there, accomplishing the three all at the same time.

And that was evident, what they were about to do and cause when Y/N's neutral expression almost crumbled. "You think about that? Me leaving you one day?"

"It's not like I'm wishing for it to happen." Never in a million years. "I want you. I want us. But... even if you've never thought about it, I know that the chance is still there for you to be with someone else and I honestly wouldn't be mad." His shoulders slumped at the thought of everything. Still, Aurélien had enough willpower to offer his wife something of a smile though it failed to reach his eyes. "Probably upset sure but I would accept it. Anything to make you happy."

He wasn't upset with the state of their relationship. It was fine that they weren't actually in love with one another. In fact, he thought their dynamic only made them stronger and more resilient to certain conditions. What frightened Aurélien—what he could acknowledge—was the fact that this "loveless" marriage potentially made them more vulnerable to longing for love. That innocent and unintentional desire to fall in love and find their true love in someone else that wasn't each other.

At the beginning of the relationship the couple had agreed that, if one encountered those infrequent moments of inward desperation and desire for something, one could experience and explore intimacy beyond the marriage. However, Aurélien and Y/N quickly learned how to share, practice and experience intimacy beyond their love incapacities and they were exclusive to one another so the rule was scrapped before it would become a problem.

But the possibility was still there. Not for Aurélien though. After all, he had a firm distaste for the idea of looking for love in someone. He was the one who had declared that he had given up on love weeks before the two got together. But for not Y/N.

He saw Y/N and familiarised himself with her attributes. Even though she had agreed to his proposal, even though she was indeed his wife, that didn't stop her from still feeling deeply. Perhaps she sometimes wished to love deeply, too. She didn't want to stop feeling because of Aurélien and his inability to get over his past relationship trauma. Divorce was a viable option for her, and he would say nothing but agree. She could leave him behind if she really wanted to.

And that's what frightened Aurélien gravely. Not necessarily letting her go. But rather that maybe he was holding Y/N back. Stunting her chances of falling in love and being in a "real" marriage to provide his misery with company. He and their marriage—something he had initiated and imposed on her—could actively be stopping Y/N from forming meaningful connections with people beyond him.

Even though they had lengthy conversations by themselves and with family before going ahead with everything, he still wondered if she ever felt pressured to go along with his proposal. It didn't fail to cross his mind every now and then that she had only broken up with her ex-partner a week or so before he had dropped the question on her.

So it really made Aurélien question everything they had built up over the years. Was it fair for them to be in a relationship? To be married and not in love with each other even by the slightest when the prospect of experiencing both at the same time was still highly probable.

Emotional pain trekked up his throat yet Aurélien persisted. He cleared his throat. "You deserve to have the life you've always wanted, even if you realise it later in life."

Then there was silence. Aurélien expected more of a reaction from Y/N. Yet all she could muster up was a slight, "No."

"No?" His nose wrinkled up. "What— what do you mean?"

"I said no, Auré," she repeated, her words now more firm. "It hurts that you think so little of me." Then her voice softened, outward passion in her words. "I have everything I want with you yet you think I don't love the life I have with you?" Y/N didn't like that he was treating her with pity, acting like she was with him reluctantly. He couldn't be farther from the truth.

"I'm being serious here—"

"So am I! So serious in fact." Y/N inched closer to Aurélien but maintained a small distance between them. Close and just within reach. She questioned, "Tell me, honey. What about our marriage makes you think that I'm unfulfilled when I'm with you? You think our relationship is just a placeholder for me or something?" It was just all confusing to her. Why does he think I don't cherish him the same way he does with me?

Rubbing a palm over his face, Aurélien pushed out a breath. "Like I said, it's in my head." And that was all he could say. 'Cause even though he explained everything in full, his reasons were illogical. Y/N had yet to give him a valid reason for him to believe that she wanted to leave him in the near future. Still, these thoughts remained steady and piercing in his mind. In his heart, deep, deep down, he knew these thoughts had no real bearing on his relationship. Yet the great wonders of mind found a way to make the end of his marriage seem pending.

He was trying to dismiss the concern but she wouldn't have any of it. "And that's the worst place for it to be."

Y/N felt her body deflate. Suddenly, she was upset. Not because of what Aurélien had been thinking about her, himself and their relationship. But simply because he's been thinking those thoughts; the fact that they were his thoughts to carry and experience over and over when they came to mind. Thoughts he has had to come to terms with possibly. They have been festering his mind, expanding into further negative thoughts and making Aurélien question the state of their relationship, even if it was all unintentional on his part.

And what scared Y/N was that he'd been dealing with these thoughts inwardly by himself for God knows how long. So she didn't know the extent of them and how far they'd come since they first troubled Aurélien with doubt, and that just made it harder for her to know how far she should extend her hand to him. To let her husband know that he shouldn't give them any validation.

"It's just in your head but it's to the point where you have basically given me permission to leave everything we have behind if I wanted to."

"Yeah..."

Y/N nodded slowly, the gears in her head turning until she understood things a bit better than before. "Can I tell you how I feel, like truly?"

He saw no reason not to. "Tell me how you feel."

"I think we got a lot going for us, don't you think?"

He lightly tugged at his ear. "I mean sure... but like what exactly?"

"Well, let's see..." She strung out a sigh, seemingly thoughtful when really sarcastic. She began counting on her fingers. "I mean we are both stable and well-accomplished in our respective careers. We built and designed our home. We've been declared the favoured couple in our friend group. We're about to become godparents again. We reached all our goals last year and will probably do the same this year. We haven't missed one morning run this year yet. Let's see, uh— oh, we got an orange tree in our back garden."

"Yeah, we do have an orange tree." Aurélien couldn't help but laugh a bit. Of course, only Y/N would find meaning in something others would observe and judge as minuscule.

"Exactly. Here, come on." Y/N held out her arms, offering her embrace and he was quick to fall into them with ease.

Physical intimacy was one of the few normal aspects that remained present in their non-traditional relationship. And even though it was habitual, he always found himself longing for it specifically from Y/N. Longing to fall into her embrace when he finally got to see her after a match. Longing for her touch when he woke up and before he went to bed for the day. It reminded him that there would always be someone for him to intimately lean on.

And when she accepted his touch with open arms—'cause she had yet to deny him—it reminded Aurélien that he wasn't alone in this relationship when he was made to feel otherwise.

Pulling away to face him, she asked, "Can I speak frankly?" When he nodded, she continued. "I'm not saying we're better or worse than other people for having what we have or whatever. I'm just saying this..." Her hands drifted from his shoulders to his cheeks, holding onto his face dearly. She regarded him in a similar way; a tender gaze evident in her adoring eyes and smile, and all directed towards him. "I choose you— this right here."

"You can obviously out-pace me by flying colours during our runs but still choose to run by my side. You take our oranges and give them to your friends when ripening season comes around. You take the time to celebrate me for the small wins I get. You took the initiative to build us up when we were technically nothing.

"I mean c'mon, Auré." Her laugh fluttered with wonder. Does he really not know much he means to me? His potential, his force of nature? Then Y/N settled her voice before she declared softly, "If you were the last person on Earth, it would be enough. I would choose you, me and the way that we are over and over and over again. In every universe, in every scenario, I choose you. I always have and will have faith in us until we are no more. You hear me?"

What Y/N understood better was that she needed to shift the focus away from what possibly could be to what already was. Aurélien needed to hear that he wasn't some placeholder for some bigger plans. That he was here with her now and that's how she wanted it to be for years to come. That their matrimony was just and would be long-lasting. That she shined brightly and never dimmed but only because he was the sun. That she was a whole lot by herself but he made her better in every way possible. That he contributed just as much as she did to their relationship. In fact, he contributed to her person in more ways than she could count.

He also validated her as his wife in a lot of ways too. He taught her that there were kinder ways of saying her name. He always came into the kitchen hungry for her food and company. It was him who opened her eyes to the practicalities of a routine. At any time if she asked it of him, he would get behind her and hug her and breathe her in and turn her around and kiss her with life and purpose, ultimately making Y/N feel like she was a lovable woman.

And with all of that in mind, she wouldn't receive their situation in any other way. Aurélien and YN were imperfectly right for one another.

"Yeah. I do, I do." Aurélien had his face pressed up against her palm as he watched and listened to her fondly. 'Cause he was grateful. Grateful for her words that were exclusive to him, her faith in him—in them as an imperfect pair—and her ability to fill his once miserable day with positivity. And it was worth it considering it was their anniversary.

"I'm glad you understand – as you should," she said, patting his shoulders. "Also I know it doesn't make me feel any kind of way but I mean look at you," Y/N gestured to his covered figure, causing Aurélien's laughter to echo around the room. Not being in love romantically didn't mean they couldn't acknowledge or care for each other's aesthetic fronts. It just all came with a lack of explicit feelings, sometimes none at all.

"But look at you."

"He's doing it again," she rolled her eyes with a cheeky grin as Aurélien pulled her back towards him. She hummed, appreciating the intimacy in their closeness. All was okay, all seemed okay between the two. Still, Y/N chose to reassure that, "We're okay. We're fine just the way we are. 'Cause at the end of the day, even with our faults, we can still be the handsome guy and his beautiful wife."

"You're not letting that go, huh?" Aurélien leaned his head back but a small wave of laughter came over him regardless. He couldn't even blame her if he wanted to; he was the same some minutes ago.

She gave him a pointed look, some elements of satire under the cover. "You're really gonna criticise a girl while she celebrates her and her husband's 5th anniversary?"

He seemed to wear an expression of vague amusement. "I think I can 'cause, I don't know, I'm said husband."

"Exactly," Y/N said, her voice warm and delicate. She directed a grin towards him and he returned it generously before they shared a pleasant embrace. "How lucky am I?"

Truly, it didn't matter that they couldn't harbour any romantic feelings for one another. 'Cause behind their favouring regards laid admiration, fulfilment and fondness in abundance and beyond. All enough and more to keep Aurélien and Y/N intertwined with one another indefinitely. And if they ever found themselves lost and separated, they would give over a lifetime to finding each other again.

[path-of-blue-eyes]

Admittedly, his voice slips the breathiest chuckle, as blue eyes just couldn't break contact with the way the other's eyes pleaded and begged in a way that did things to Seto that he didn't even think were possible for him. "You know I'm blunt, but I was a little." It was surprisingly affectionate teasing, when Yugi being overly sensitive was practically perfect in his mind.

Brown hair may have hung over Seto's eyebrows that largely hid much of his expression, it didn't take an expert to see this man was in awe over Yugi. He wasn't just sexy in the moment, but stunning. He didn't just want him for the sake of sex, he wanted him for the sake of enveloping his body all for himself, because he'll be damned if anyone else takes this sight away from him.

Even if his heart pounds, that growing anxiety that he's actually going to finger somebody for the first time in his life and that he could actually do it wrong, he ignores that feeling all together. Getting nervous? Sure, he feels it but he's so quick to ignore it for the sake of getting what he wants - which was Yugi to be entirely his.

Long fingers first rub around his hole before slowly moving inside to the warm hole of Yugi. "I can't tell what's hotter, your mouth or here." His voice whispers, hardly the type to go slow when his fingers start that slow pump in and out of the smaller. Seto felt his own body riling up in what felt like zaps, the heat was something that had his own cock practically twitch in the excitement that it wouldn't take long to put it in.

That's when a little idea springs on him, he had read some men apparently feel good when their nipples are teased, and so he tilts his head down to try just that by having his tongue run across the other's nipple on his chest.

𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐌 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐆𝐈’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓 ,     before  breaking  apart  into  sweet  giggles ,     all  while  the  peachy -  rose  of  his    flushed  face     appears  reddish -  violet  against  the  depth  of  the  night .    “     are  you  making  fun  of  me  .ᐣ.ᐣ     ”     he  questions  breathily ,     lash -  curtained  eyes  twinkling  with  affection ,     a    𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚  𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕     contained  amid  his  bright  violets .     yuugi  is  smiling ,     but  his  lower  lip  buttons  out  the  slightest  bit  in  a  playful  pout ,     𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲  𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰  .    “     you’re  lucky  i  like  it  when  you’re  a  little  mean  to  me  ,     sometimes  .     ”

           banter  aside ,     seto’s  remarks  concerning  yuugi’s  sensitivity  are    ENTIRELY  ACCURATE  ,     and  he  knows  he’ll  be  the  first  between  them  to run  out  of  gas      ━━━━      but  for  now ,     he’s  still  boasting  a    𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙  𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑘  ,     and  an  engine    vibrating  in  anticipation .    beyond  that ,     he’s  looking  forward  to  being  fully  sated ,     satisfied  down  to  the    𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖  𝐎𝐅  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒     after  his  body    𝒂𝒕  𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈  𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕     receives  the  deepest  touch  of  the  one  it’s  been  craving  for    years  on  end  .

           despite  his  prior  demeanor ,    loose    &    playful    &    brimming  with  humor ,     the  promise    (   or    𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭  .ᐣ.ᐣ    )     that  flows  so  easily  past  seto’s  lips  elicits  a  thorough  shiver .     he  should  have  known  seto  would  take  it  as  an  invitation  to    𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦  𝑤𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑘  ℎ𝑖𝑚  ,    given  he’d  unintentionally  framed  it  as  a    RECORD  WAITING  TO  BE  BROKEN  ,     but  yuugi  can’t  regret  what  had  perhaps  been  a  freudian  slip ;     there’s  nothing  he  wants    𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄     than  to  come  totally  undone ,    𝒖𝒏𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒅     with  a  pleasure  strong  enough  to    CHANGE  HIM  FOREVER .

           a  sigh  trembles  past  yuugi’s  saliva -  slick  lips ,     glistening  as  if  adorned  with    𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠     in  the  beams  of  moonlight  that  flood  through  the  windows  of  seto’s  bedroom .     his  touch    ━━━━      those  fingertips  that  he’d  just    reveled  in  tasting    ━━━━     registers  the  same  way  as  being  caressed  by  an  angel ,     though  the    tender  gentleness     is  only  for  the  moment ;     soon  to  shift  into  something  more  reflective  of  the    𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓  -  𝐔𝐏  𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘     they’ve  kept  chained  to  their  cores  ’til  now .     “      please  ,     ”     yuugi  begs ,     tone  heightened  in  his    𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔  𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑡  ,   which  renders  the  space  in  his  head  nothing  but  a    pleading  echo     of  seto’s  name .     “     please  ,     ”     he  repeats ,     bare  chest  shuddering  as  it  greedily  expands  for  air ,    “     d━━━━don’t  stop  until  i    can’t  take  it  anymore  .     ”

           as  if  to    punctuate  his  plea  ,     yuugi  squirms ,     spreading  his  legs  and  raising  his  hips  to  fully  expose  his  hole ,     flushed  a    𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕  𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒌     and  quivering  in  its    DESPERATION     for  contact .     “     seto  -  kun  ,     ”     yuugi  whimpers ,     painted  black  nails  scratching  lightly ,     nigh  on    𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 ,     at  the  nape  of  seto’s  neck ,     “     your  fingers     [     .  .  .     ]     put  your  fingers  in  ,    please  .    ”

[raticalshoez]

i'm having hyperfixation drought so i did what i did best and created a crossover episode

[thestrangestwatermelonofall]

i will never forget the time I was hanging out with two other people who were new friends and they were like "let's do a sonic fandub" and one of them started looking up sonic game footage on youtube for us to dub while we discussed who would speak for who and we decided I'd voice tails. But also I knew nothing about sonic at the time, i'd only seen the snapcube fandubs because I'd heard they were good and funny, I didn't know the plot or characters very well. I couldn't remember what they sounded like so while the other two started to say silly things in sonic and amy's voices I asked "what does tails sound like again?" And I was laughing because I was embarrassed and also shocked by how quickly they had started commiting to the bit of trying to do some voice acting and my friend just said "he sounds like a twink" and I could not stop laughing and I could not take the idea seriously and I just told them that I couldn't do the voice oops. And so we moved onto a different topic pretty quickly and just enjoyed the pizza we had while we waited for our other three friends to get back from the store

anyways all of this is to say that Tails is NOT a twink, he is an 8 year old little boy and my friend was misguided.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bisexual Best Friend

Male Yandere x Fem Reader He just wants what's best for you. If he has to tell a few white lies now and again, then so be it.

When you first saw him, he had his tongue down your boyfriend's throat.

It sure as hell would not have been the start of a friendship, except...

He was the one who ran after you when you stormed out of the club, mascara and eyeshadow running in silvery streaks down your cheeks.

He was the one who hugged you and apologised and said your boyfriend was a piece of shit for doing that to you.

He was the one who got you home safe, cleaned off your makeup and left aspirin on your bedside table.

In your half haze of alcohol and tears, you clung to him and nuzzled into his neck and told him you were so grateful, that he was such a nice guy.

It wouldn't have been the start to a friendship and maybe it shouldn't have been. But you called him the next morning.

You apologised for being such a mess, stuttering just a little at the deep gruffness of his morning voice. He laughed and told you not to worry about, that you should've seen what a fool he made of himself when his boyfriend cheated.

You weren't sure how, but a phone call turned into lunch together. Both of you just a little tipsy from bottomless mimosas, his arm tossed across the back of your chair as he sketched out the horror of his last situationship.

"So you're gay?"

You should have noticed it then - the way he narrowed his eyes just a little, the way he let his fingers graze your bare shoulder, the way he seemed to take just a second too long to answer.

"Yeah. I'm into guys."

That was the first lie he told you. Not entirely untrue. He was into guys.

He was just into girls too. And he was especially into you.

He could have been honest with you, he could have told the truth. But you were still reeling from your boyfriend's betrayal, too guarded and hurt to let another man into you life.

And he so desperately wanted to be a part of your life.

The next time you asked him to hang out, you were so at ease. You hugged him when you saw him, your tits squished against his chest. You held his hand and dragged him along behind you. You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He smoothed your hair away from your face and any idea of telling the truth crumbled.

He told himself he just wanted to be your friend. Lord knows you needed one after such a nasty break up. But anyone who looked at you together could tell friendship was the last thing on his mind.

He took you to watch his favourite band performing live and hoisted you up on his shoulder for the encore, his hands inching further and further up your thighs.

He took you to his favourite club and bought you drink after drink until you danced with him, your arms thrown back around his neck and your ass grinding into his crotch. It was only the pulsing neon lights that kept you from seeing his hard on.

He invited you over for a movie night and pretended to lose the AC remote, just so he could share a blanket with you and keep his arm around your waist.

And the longer it went on, the worse it got. You were cute and clever and funny. You could yap together for hours about fashion and music and video games. You brought him little presents every time you came over - small packets of his favourite sweets, a new flavour of ice cream, his go-to Starbucks order.

Could you blame him for wanting you?

He started calling you his wifey, even in front of his friends. Would crack jokes about getting married if either of you couldn't find a guy by next year. And you went along with it. Ran your hands up his chest and fluttered your eyelashes at him and called him your strong, handsome fiancé - oblivious to the way it made his heart race.

When he walked in on you changing, he kept his face deadpan and told you red was definitely not your colour, even as you scrambled to cover up and spluttered at him to get out.

"Why? You aren't exactly my type babe."

Another lie. Not even remotely true this time.

And soon you got used to him walking in on you. Started asking him for fashion advice while you were in just your underwear and heels. Started asking him to tie your bikini tops and unzip your dresses. You didn't notice him always slipping away afterwards, one hand shoved deep in his pocket. You didn't notice the way his hair was always slightly messed up when he got back, his cheeks just a little flushed.

And if there were ever any warning bells - any subconscious instincts that told you he touched you too much, hugged you for too long - they were drowned out by his parade of boyfriends and flings. Why would he be into you when he could be dating a ripped surfer or hooking up with his personal trainer?

You never realised you were the reason his relationships were always so short lived. He couldn't fall for any of them the way he fell for you. They were all just quick fucks to get the frustration out of his system.

He could have continued just like that - fucking a new guy every weekend and getting brunch with you right after.

But then you went and met someone.

He froze when you told him, his smile a rictus, hand clenched so tight around his wine glass that he was lucky it didn't shatter.

He gritted his teeth and managed to choke out a congratulations. You beamed at him, flushed pretty with young love. You squeezed his hand and said it was only a matter of time before he found his love too.

He had to excuse himself after that. Had to splash cold water on his face and fight down the urge to scream. God, why was he so fucking stupid? He should have made a move on you ages ago, back when you first met. If you rejected him then, at least it wouldn't hurt as bad as it did now.

He somehow managed to make his way back to the table and smile at you like you hadn't just clawed his insides to shreds.

"So when can I meet the lucky guy?"

When you got up to wash your hands he slipped your phone out of your bag. He scrolled through your gallery, over analysing every pic of your new boyfriend. Cute, but you could do so much better. And he wasn't even that much taller than you. God, are you really gonna date this loser?

You kissed him on his cheek when he left and he spent the entire walk home rubbing the spot and thinking up ways to get rid of this new... disruption.

Later that afternoon you called him up and asked if he'd like to come to a bar with you and meet your new man. And just like that, the wild ideas in his head clicked into place.

"Sure wifey, I'd love to come."

He showed up late and spilled a drink down your dress before you even finished saying hello. And while you rushed off to try and get red wine out of satin, he scanned the bar for your new boyfriend.

And when he finally found the bastard, he turned on all his pretty boy charm. Bought him a drink and slung an arm across the back of his chair and pretended not to hear when he said he had a girlfriend. Managed to get the guy flushed and stuttering even after he claimed to not be into men.

When he pulled your boyfriend into a kiss, the fucker had the nerve to actually kiss him back.

He was careful with his timing - going in for a second kiss as soon as he saw the flash of your dress through the crowd.

He pulled away just as you reached the table and looked up at you with oblivious innocence.

"What's wrong baby? Why do you look so shocked?"

Your boyfriend shoved him off and stood up to grab you, to claim he didn't kiss someone else, the guy just came onto him swear to God. But the damage was already done.

Who would you believe was at fault? Your best friend who didn't even know what your new boyfriend looked like? Or the asshole kissing someone else while you were gone?

You threw your drink in your boyfriend's face and called him a filthy liar. When you grabbed your best friend's arm and dragged him away, he struggled to hide his smile.

He took you back to his apartment and popped open a bottle. Poured you a drink and kissed your forehead and let his hand settle on your lower back.

"Men ain't shit baby. We're all just manipulative assholes deep down."

He let you drown your sorrows in the bottle and then pulled you onto his lap when you were too drunk to object.

"I'm the only man you need in your life, yeah?"

You sniffled, too drunk and hurt and dizzy to notice his hands moving to your bare thighs.

"Yeah."

"C'mon, say it. Say I'm the only man you need."

"You're the only man I need."

His fingers slipped under the hem of your dress and he pressed his lips against your skin, teeth oh so close to your jugular.

"And I'll take care of you. So just sit still and I'll make it all better."

[gilverrwrites]

I love imaging Dick, Tim, and Damian sneaking around trying to meet Jasons new gf because they just wanna be involved in his life and they know if they they leave it to Jay they wont meet her u til they're married with kids 😭

AND ‘omg us meeting Jason’s siblings when’

AN: Ngl I love this idea too, its so shitty of them but they have the best of intentions.

Damian

A boy no older than 14 with eyes that pierce the soul was not what you'd expected to find on Jason's couch the very first time he'd left you alone there. Jason had to dip out unexpectedly early, and had promised you run of the place until he got back so you'd slept in as long as you could and were on your way to make breakfast when you're greeted by the hell-child.

Once your initial fright wears off you realise you recognize him from a photo Jay had showed you which makes you feel slightly more at ease.

“Good morning? Damian right?” You offer as you pass him, be-lining for the coffee machine, you're gonna need caffeine if you're meeting any member of Jay's family for the first time. “Can I get you anything?”

“Alfred says it's unbecoming to sleep past 9.” Besides the initial glare he'd graced you with as you emerged from the bedroom, he doesn't even look up at you, his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Like brother like brother, you guess.

“Oh, well. Good thing Alfreds not here then.” You add a small laugh, trying to inject some humour to the situation. Damian does not respond in kind. “Is that a no? I think there's some chocolate cereal around here somewhere.”

“What do you do for work that allows you to be in my brother's home in the middle of the day?”

Jeez this kid is no-nonsense. “Or I could make pancakes, I make really good pancakes.”

“And tell me what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Baby?

“I think there's some chocolate chips around here somewhere. Jason says you like chocolate. Chocolate pancakes?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“Are you always so intense?”

He slams the book closed and you nearly jump on the spot. He finally looks at you, really looks at you and as you stare back his features begin to soften slightly.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

You're certain from the sly look on his face that he's probably not allowed coffee. He certainly doesn't need any. But screw it, he's not your kid and if it gets him to like a little, you'll take the risk.

So you pour two coffees and join him on the couch. His questions do not cease until Jason returns about an hour later. He couldn't care less about the coffee, but he does care about Damian breaking in to interrogate his partner and immediately kicks Damian out.

Dick

Dick finds out about your existence from one of Damian’s letters, and he's subtle but pushy about meeting you. Not that you're aware. He keeps ‘dropping by’ Jason's apartment ‘just to see his lil brother’, no other reason but is told to get lost or downright ignored anytime you're there, until he decides to cut out the middle man and turn up at your home instead.

“Let me tell you, you are a hard person to get a hold of.” He informs as he invites himself through your front door.

“Um, hello Dick?” As you stare at his lush hair and sculpted abs you wonder what Alfred feeds these boys.

“Yep! I can't stay so I’ve gotta make this quick.” he gestures for you to come closer, speaking in a playful, conspiratorial whisper. “Jay doesn't know I'm here.”

That would be why he can't stay, Jason is due at your door any minute now.

“But you two seem to be getting pretty serious and I think it's important that we all get to know each other. You following?”

You nod, and he gives you the perkiest, most genuine smile. That or he has that exact look practised to a T. From what Jay tells you, either is possible.

“So, Barbara and I, that's my wife” You nod once more, you're aware of Barbara also. “have booked a table at Casa Gotica for Thursday night. We need you to get Jason there without letting on that it's a double date.”

“I don’t know.” you finally give your nodding head a break. “Jay and I don’t lie to each other.”

“Right. I can't begrudge that. Very glad to hear he's picked an honest one.” He takes a moment to straighten his thoughts, but his moment is cut short but the echo of Jason’s combat boots approaching your door. Dick’s eyes rapidly scan the room for a secondary exit before he settles on an open window. “Don't think of it as lying, think of it as omitting the truth. Whatever you have to do just be there for 6.30. Oh, and it's great to meet you!”

“You too.”

“Thursday, 6.30!”

Before you can agree he’s gone, presumably scaling the side of your building as Jay steps inside.

Tim

Tim was actually the first to be aware of you and your relationship with his brother, however, the very real possibility of being gutted by Jason for snooping in his personal life was too high for him to make a move.

But you seeking him out is a different story; or rather, you being the first to say hi when you bump into each other in line at the grocery store is different. It would be rude not to respond to your attempts at initiating a conversation.

“Hello, hi, are you Tim? You don't know me but I’m Jasons partner. Its so great to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” He states rather ominously, eyes darting around behind you. “Is he here?”

“No, but he's picking me up after.” His shoulders visibly ease.

“Cool cool cool.” He’s suddenly much more personable. “So, I hear you're into…”

That chatting doesn't dry or lul at all as the queue dwindles and both buy your groceries. He waits with you until you get confirmation from Jay that he's on his way. He's easily the chillest sibling you've met thus far.

When Jason arrives he gets out of the car to open the boot and passenger door for you as always, but not before he thrusts his phone in your face. “Where is he?”

Displayed on the screen is a selfie of Tim with you in the background, you absolutely do not remember it being taken.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC De-Aged Triplets and Their Tired Single Sister

Jason has seen the four of them a couple of times in Crime Alley now. They looked like a family, what with similar facial features- err, actually, the kids looked like carbon copies of each other, but their mom/sister/aunt/cousin looked similar enough to be related to them by blood.

Normally, Jason didn't care for each and every family that moved into Crime Alley. Sure, he cared about all of them as a whole, but there were a lot of people, and he couldn't possibly get elbow deep in every life story he came across. So all he knew about them were three things: a) they were on the run from someone or something, b) they trusted each other and no one else, and c) apparently, they have made it their life goal to never make any kind of sense.

The list of shit they have gotten into included but was not limited to:

• one of the kids biting a gun. Not the hand of the attacker who was holding it, no, the actual gun. And he bit a piece of it clean off, which earned him - or her, actually, Jason knew one of the triplets was a girl but he couldn't tell them apart - a lecture from their... mom? sister? parental figure. The lecture was about how chewing metal does not help with iron deficiency.

• getting kidnapped and creeping out their kidnapper to the point of him returning the kids back home. A few witnesses said one of the kids was actually driving, sitting on the kidnappers lap behind the steering wheel and cheerfully commanding the man to speed up or brake. Their mom actually apologized to the kidnapper for the incident and offered him homemade cookies for his troubles. He ran away without them.

• driving a lady at the laundromat insane by repeatedly walking inside and climbing into one of the washing machines. They never got out of it, just one kid walking into the laundromat, climbing into washing machine, then another kid, looking exactly like the previous one, walking inside, climbing into the same washing machine, then another kid walking into the laundromat- well, you get the idea. The lady claimed she's seen at least five kids do that in a row, but when she looked into that washing machine, there was no one inside.

• casually falling out of windows. Or, better, walking out of them like they were doors, at any given opportunity. The witness - an old man who was helping their mom with groceries - said the mom did not care in the slightest, and when he asked her about it, obviously concerned, she just said, tired and exasperated, 'they like the feeling of free fall, don't worry, they'll come back in a minute'. Sure enough, they did, not a scratch on them. The family lived on the sixth floor.

• eating insane amounts of food. Jason personally witnesses their mom give them her wallet, telling the kids, 'eat until you're full', and promptly passing out on the table, her head on her arms. The kids then proceeded to eat four whole pizzas, three burgers each, then seven brownies and at least five cups of soda. What was interesting about it was not only the amount of food they ate but the way they never left their mom unattended, one of the kids always staying beside her sleeping figure as the other two went to order.

And now, all four of them were standing in front of him. Not Jason Todd him, but Red Hood him. And he was... confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, can you watch them for a few hours? Three, maybe four," the mom, Jazz as she introduced herself, was looking at him like it was he who was speaking nonsense, not her. Because asking a crime lord to watch three kids in the middle of the night is not something a sane person would do.

"Why?" He asks, bewildered, because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?

"I need to kill a man, and if they come with me, it will take three times longer," Jazz tells him. Is she saying the kids slow her down or what? Jason can admit he's never been this confused in his entire life.

"You could ask me to kill a man, while you stay with them, no?" He tries to reason, but the girl waves him off:

"No, that will take even longer. Besides, no offense, but you kill people to simply end their life, and I need that man to fucking stop existing forever."

What's the difference he almost wants to ask. But instead of that, he just sighs.

"Why me? I'm sure you could find a babysitter-"

"No babysitter will handle them. The last one told me they have been running laps on the ceiling, which is, actually, not that big of a deal. They are kids. Kids like running around," she huffs, and Jason suspects she is missing the point here, but okay. He gets why babysitters are not an option.

"You do understand what they can witness if they stay here?" He asks, as the last attempt to reason with the girl, but she just nods and leans down, making all the kids turn to her.

"Okay, you menaces, tell me what not to do while you're staying with Mr. Red Hood."

"No eating people," one kid starts.

"No driving people insane," the other one continues.

"No, um, stealing eyeballs," the third one finishes, and what the fuck are those ground rules? Is this girl a mother to eldrith horrors? That would explain some shit.

Jazz turns to him, "See? They're all good."

In what world is that good? Jason debates if he should start running now or when she leaves.

"Do they have names?" He asks instead. The girl nods:

"Danny." His surprise must be evident even through the mask because she sighs and points to each kid, "Diane, Daniel, Dante. Dani, Danny, and Dan. Actually, you know what, let's make this easier," she rummages through her bag and gets a marker out before gesturing to the kids, "Come here."

As they do, she proceeds to draw numbers 1, 2, and 3 on their foreheads. Then she nods to Hood and puts the marker away.

"Okay, that's better. Behave, you monsters, I'll be back soon!"

After she leaves, Jason looks down at the kids. They also look at him, eerie and unblinking.

Finally, one of them - number 2, Dani, if he is not mistaken - asks:

"Do you want teeth? We have a lot."

"She doesn't mean her teeth," number 1 clarifies, "She means other teeth."

...This is going to be some very long three hours.

[roturo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ SHE'S BACK!

GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader

tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.

A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.

It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.

He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.

“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”

Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.

“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.

“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”

“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”

“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”

Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 

Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.

You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 

That made you blush. 

Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’

Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.

Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”

“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 

He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.

“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.

A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.

“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 

“Shit. Can you walk?”

PART 2

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

if the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue you one. Soap's heard that saying once or twice.

and here you are. claiming to be his... issuance.

you tilt your head. "you don't remember signing up for the program?"

no. no, he doesn't. his eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. he'd remember that. more to the point, he'd remember whatever he did to deserve this. he looks you up and down again, disbelief and desire flashing across his face, and not in equal measure.

you’re like if someone wrung the starry slurry of thoughts constituting what makes a perfect woman directly from his brain matter, let it ferment and clarify like honey wine, put marriage papers in her hand, and dressed her in a… in a fucking… are those stockings stretching up under your skirt?

hell’s bells. you’re one part girl next door, one part muse—the one his hand can never quite shape on the page to match what’s in his head—and several shades of his favorite porn star. an old-fashioned pin-up doll in the flesh.

"you're not John MacTavish, then," you say, peering down at the papers in your hand with a small frown. "so sorry to bother you—"

“no, hold on.” he takes a step closer. “i’m him, aye. but the program...” the application questionnaire. filling it out was nothing more than a drunken bet with Gaz, but yes, he dimly remembers it. doesn't recall turning it in, but maybe he was drunker than he thought. “it's real?"

“completely real. i was selected for you based on the preferences you specified,” you tell him. you shift the clipboard into your other arm, pleasant smile turning into a frown. "but i couldn't possibly ask you to sign a marriage certificate sponsored by a program you don't even remember applying for."

oh, that is rich. you don’t seem to see the humor here. it’s absurd. have you not seen yourself? he'd be daft to pass on someone as bonnie as you.

not to mention you seem more than a little disappointed at the idea of being turned down. that fuels his ego even more.

 "you're sayin' you're a part of that military partnership program, aye? and you were handpicked as my spouse based on a few questions?"

you helpfully produce a copy of his responses in pink triplicate. sure enough, he recognizes his own drunken scrawl.

none of the questions have anything to do his preferences looks-wise. career aspirations, communication preferences, hobbies, his ideal saturday night. his sleeping habits. this is a psychological profile. CIA shite, as Gaz would say.

he doubts his drunken self read more than a few lines of this paperwork while he was constructing his dream girl in the survey blanks.

as he studies the page a little too closely, your small frown turns into a frustrated scowl. "john? um, i mean."

it instantly pulls his eyes back to your lips.

you twirl a strand of hair around your finger. "it’s nice to meet you,” you say in a tone that makes it clear what you’re really saying is ‘hey, stud, i'm looking forward to the honeymoon.’

that’s your attempt, at least. but Soap sees more than you mean to show. the way you play that card--the way you twirl your damn hair--is the clumsiest, most blatant attempt to flirt. somehow, that's what catches him off-guard the most. It makes his heart squeeze. god, are you nervous? you?

he runs over the back of his teeth in the split second before his signature lazy smirk slides back across his face. "happy you got paired up with a bloke like me?"

he hands the paperwork back to you. you take it back with great relief and nestle it securely into the crook of your elbow. you’re certain he didn’t sign every single blank he was supposed to, but he won’t remember that. you’ll check the signature lines later and forge his handwriting to finish it.

you smile prettily at him. then you make it a little more coy. you should be bashful--he's handsome. "i'm lucky. you're special forces. i’m a nobody, really. if you want, you could try filing for a spouse upgrade. if you want a really good fiancée..."

“fiancée." Soap rolls the word around his tongue. "is that what i should call you?”

"well. you saw my name on the paperwork," you point out. you know very well he didn't.

before he can ask any more questions, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek and pull away, walking down the hall with documents in tow. his gaze is heavy on your back.

the documents in your arm are real enough. Soap really did complete that questionnaire, just like how he remembers. getting the application turned in is what required a little creative effort.

but as long as nobody looks too closely at the military ID photocopied in the application file, they won't notice that the mostly-obscured face of the soldier who turned the application in doesn't look much like Soap at all.

...

more Soap / masterlist

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

--------------------------------------------------------

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[gravegoer]

OMG sevika x reader who fills in for silco after he dies?? 🤍 but sevika is oddly shocked at her kindness—

Sevika's boss ꩜

i absolutely love this idea ! sevika pledging her loyalty to you whilst you pledge yours to her !! so this is how you met + how you treat her on the job.. and off (i fear silco didnt provide a safe work environment)

visit my masterlist HERE , part 2

Zaun needed a new leader, and you just so happened to be the second in line to the throne.

You had the option to throw Sevika out if you really wanted a different right hand man. But in your opinion, if she worked for SIlco; she would work for you.

You'd never met her before, only heard the things that Zaunites whispered about her on the street

" She took on three men at the last drop yesterday. I think Silco put her up to it. "

" The way she looked at me made me think I was going to meet my end. "

Silco was no gentle ruler, he was strong and fierce. You could only imagine how he treated his goons, and and only Gods know how he treated Sevika.

You sat in his office chair, displeased with the scattered papers on his desk and the old whiskey in a glass that now smelled rank.

You had called her in to have a chat, so that you knew who you were really working with. Not knowing what to expect; you watched as the door creaked open and you nervously drew in a quick breath.

In walked a tall woman, definitely over 6', obviously muscular with one prosthetic arm. Your eyes traveled up to her face, and now you knew why everyone talked about her gaze. It was steely and almost frightening. She looked you up and down with something in her eyes that you couldn't place. Her skin was littered with scars, the biggest one was smack dab across her cheek. How intimidating.

You spoke to her, firmly but gently, "As you know, I'm taking over for Silco until things can be.. sorted out-"

She cut you off with a brisk, "Get to the point."

You eyed her full lips as she said this, the gap between her teeth was more prominent when she spoke. Not to mention her husky voice, she sounded tired but with still a hint of determination.

"I'm not demoting you or anything, just so you know," you spoke while raising an eyebrow at her, "I just wanted to get to know you before I start ordering you around, y'know?"

She narrowed her eyes at this statement. Its obvious she expected you to immediately ask her to do things for you the way she did for her former boss. Always running around the city cleaning up his mess, fighting his battles. But no. You weren't Silco. There was something different in the air around you.

Now that you've officially met its time to put this girl to work !!

She was almost always available. This concerned you. If you asked for her presence she would be there within minutes. It was like she was waiting for you at the door 24/7.

This made you bring up off days to her, "You know, if you ever need time off or anything don't hesitate to ask me. I don't bite"

She was confused at your willingness to let her do nothing but sit around while you did the work. And even after you said this she never asked to be called off.

"Okay, you know what. If you're injured after a mission don't even think. About trying to leave your house," You called her in to run some errands but what she didn't tell you is that she got stabbed roughly in her side the night before.

This made her angry, did you think she was weak? You're making her take a break because she didn't do her job good enough for you? Trying to cut her pay by putting her out of work?

But no, surprisingly in the next few days you sent her out again, and when she came back you slid a hefty bag of coins her way. She questioned your ways but she wasn't complaining.

You tried never ask absurd or unnecessary things of her. If you needed to talk with someone in the city you would go down and do it yourself. She caught you out one day, talking to a shop owner about prices.

"Why the hell are you out without me."

You turned around to meet her eyes (also having to crain your neck to look up at her.) "Well, I don't need a body guard to walk around you know that right?" You said, tilting your head to the side.

She drug her hand over her face at this, "You could have asked me to do it for you, I'm free. Plus don't you know anyone could be trying to get at you? Are you an idiot?"

"I can handle myself Sevika. But if you're soo worried about me ill let you come next time," You teased before turning around to speak to the owner again.

She grumbled to herself before taking a seat in one of the old chairs behind you and crossing her arms. If you didn't know any better you would think a small embarrassed blush kissed her cheeks.

When you walked around in the streets with you she always walked behind you, looming over your shoulder. Sometimes you thought she would start barking if anyone came up to you. You slowed down a bit to match her pace before latching onto her arm.

Her body tensed at your touched and she looked down at you, though you didn't meet her gaze as you continued looking forward. The neon lights illuminating the angles of your face. She shook her head at your willingness to touch her, but didn't comment on it.

You felt the flex of her bicep when she tensed up at your fingers. Her arm was hot under your touch and you could feel the scars that littered her skin.

This became routine, when Sevika walked you home late at night she would get comfortable enough to drape her arm around your shoulder, her poncho sheltering you from the cold.

And yes, she started walking you home at night because she stayed in your office to keep you company whilst you did paperwork into the late hours. Saying, "Its the least I could do since you don't let me do it for you."

Lighting a cigarillo she sat on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. The smoke wafted from her position to your nose, the smell oddly comforting.

When you groaned and dropped your head into your hands it was her queue to get up and pull your chair out from your desk.

"Its too late, you should get home."

Sometimes you'd fall asleep in at your desk, but this was no problem. Sevika would pick you up, gently as to not disturb you and carry you to your home. And she was careful to walk through quieter places in the city so that the hustle and bustle of people didn't wake you.

And yes she tucks you in.

If you really insisted on staying to do paperwork she would grumble a few curses but stay anyway.

You were starting to grow on her. Maybe being cuter than Silco gave you some brownie points.

thank you for reading ! if you sent an ask in the past few days, don't worry, I'm getting to them all :) I appreciate all the support !! ♡♡

[pearlymel]

Sylus remembers clearly the day he found out you were both having twins. Twins, as in two babies as yours and his first children.

How you almost passed out when the doctor delivered the news, but he was quick to tell you that everything would be okay.

He's going to be the best husband for you, and for the twins..?

they sure were going to be a handful.

“Sylus!” Sylus' head snapped towards the kitchen, where your voice had come from, “come get your son before i cook him!”

He knew that you were joking. Probably.

the kitchen, one hand holding his little girl's hand guiding her along. "Now, now," he called out as he entered the kitchen, "No cooking the children, sweetie.”

You let out a sigh when you watch the boy run away while letting out giggles, his face and hands full of white flour.

Seeing this, Sylus let out an exasperated sigh as well, his gaze shifting from his running figure to the mess of flour on the floor. "Sorry about the mess he made," he muttered before looking over at you, a sheepish smile on his face. "Go to your brother,” he urges the girl next to him, she nods slowly before running off to him.

“I'll feed him to the ducks one day.” You say with determination, still focused on trying to make this dinner a success after the mess.

But Sylus chuckled at your threat, knowing all too well that you were only half-serious. He could see the twitching in your eyes, but he also knew that you loved both of your children dearly, even if they could be a handful sometimes.

”Though I suspect he would probably find a way to befriend them and make a mess with them.”

“.. why are you right?”

“because i know my children,” he says proudly, then makes slow steps from behind you to not alert you so suddenly, his arms snaking around your waste with his chin resting on your shoulder, “what are you making?”

You smile, “dinner.”

"Smartass," he teased, "I meant what kind of dinner are you making?” he whispers calmly, a soft conversation between you two, with his thumb rubbing ideally on you.

“hm, i could be dinner… but oh well.” you sigh dramatically and he laughs quietly.

You couldn't even continue because you hear a faint “ewwww.” Coming from the corner.

You both glance back at the two heads peeking out from the wall, and you roll your eyes.

"and here I was, having a moment with your mother," he said to them, his voice still low yet amused. "You two really have a knack for interrupting, don't you?”

Your little girl was the first to speak, “it was his idea.” She started quietly, her fingers fidgeting together, but her brother only gasped, “she's lying!”

"Oh, really now?" he’s skeptical, and he approaches both of them with his arms crossed, “Hmm, it's always the innocent ones who lie, isn't it?”

“but I'm not—”

“liar.” The little one huffs and looks away with annoyance, but the minute he could hear his sister im the verge of tears, he knew he messed up.

Sylus was quick to notice her distraught demeanor, his heart clenching slightly at the sight of her on the verge of tears.

"you," Sylus pointed out at the other twin, his voice firmer and authoritative, "did you cause the mess?”

…

Sylus let out a deep sigh, his stern expression softening slightly. He knew he was just being a mischievous little boy, but he also had to nip such behavior in the bud.

"You know better than to blame others for your pranks,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Apologize to your sister.”

The girl sniffled, the threat of tears subsiding as she accepted her brother's apology. She wiped away her stray tears with the back of her hand, a small smile forming on her face.

Sylus nodded approvingly, he patted both of them on their head gently. "There we go, now go back and play together.”

This whole time you were watching the scene with the biggest smile on your face, and Sylus was already prepared for your upcoming teasing words.

“and the father of the year goes to.. you.” ... except he didn't expect this rare sweet statement of yours. He's reminded of why he put a ring on it in the beginning.

"What can I say?" he replied, his voice filled with pride. "I have a talent for handling troublemakers." He placed both of his arms on the counter to your sides, boxing you in, "though, to be fair, they get their mischievous streaks from their mother," he added, and you gasp before turning around. burnt dinner it is.

[bluerosefox]

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

[ghsface]

Same old love - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You helped Nick paint his room but the smell didn't go away completely and you had nowhere to sleep. Matt offered to let you sleep with him and you didn't hesitate for a second.

Warnings: smut +18, sexual tension, explicit content, use of fingers, wet dream (I don't know if that counts as a warning), unprotected sex (don't do it), soft!dom!matt, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, soft and funny end, rubbing, I think that's all.

A/n: Okay I wrote this without having any idea what it was going to be about but I feel like it's good but at the same time not so idk, and this is my first time writing a Matt fanfic or whatever you want to call it, btw if you didn't know I'm Matt Girl, I also wanted to tell you to leave me ideas here or in the inbox on my profile, since I'm running out of ideas.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

You were at the Sturniolo house again, which wasn't unusual at all, spending more nights there than in your own house. You and the triplets were inseparable. That particular day, you had spent most of your time helping Nick paint his room, which had been more chaotic than you had expected. What had started out as a normal chore had turned into a paint war, leaving you completely covered in stains, from your face to your feet.

As the day was ending, you and Nick realized that the smell of fresh paint was still too strong to sleep in his room. Nick, hoping for a quick solution, went to ask Chris if they could share Matt's bed. After all, Matt had enough room and Nick thought it was the best option. But Chris, being Chris, flatly refused, starting a small argument in which a couple of insults were exchanged in a playful tone.

"Come on, Chris, don't be a jerk," Nick had said in frustration. “We just need a place to sleep, the smell in my room is disgusting.”

Chris looked at him with a mocking expression. “Why don’t you sleep on the couch or something? Matt needs his own space and he doesn’t want me sleeping with him anymore.”

“It’s not just me, there’s her too,” Nick explained. “I can’t make her sleep on the damn couch, Chris!”

“Well, that changes everything, doesn’t it?” Chris laughed mischievously. “No, not that.”

You just watched the scene, trying not to get too involved, but when the options started to run out, Matt stepped in.

“Now, Nick, forget it. She can sleep with me,” Matt said, looking at you with a mix of sympathy and calm. “It’s better if she stays in my room if there’s no other option.”

Although you tried to hide it, your heart started to beat faster at the thought. Sleeping with Matt… it wasn’t something that happened often, but you weren’t bothered by the idea in the slightest. There was something about Matt that had always attracted you, his way of being so sweet, but at the same time, it made you think there was something more hidden behind that good boy facade.

Once everything was sorted out, Matt lent you some clothes to change into since your clothes were covered in paint. The t-shirt he gave you smelled like him, a soft, comforting scent that you always liked. Along with some shorts, it looked like you were going to be comfortable that night, or at least that's what you thought.

After your skincare routine, Matt left you alone in the room to change in peace. That was what you liked most about him: always so considerate, such a gentleman. As you put on his clothes, a mix of nervousness and anticipation settled in your stomach. You knew Matt was sweet, but you had also felt a tension between you on more than one occasion. You couldn't deny that you were attracted to him, and although nothing had happened before, tonight you felt like something could be different.

When Matt came back into the room, the atmosphere changed. There was a brief awkward silence as you both climbed into bed. He kept a respectful distance at first, and you both exchanged a few words before sleep began to take over.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked you in that soft voice that always soothed you.

“Yes, thank you,” you replied with a smile, even though your mind was racing in a thousand directions.

Slowly, the two of you settled into bed, and soon silence filled the space. You felt the warmth of Matt’s body close to yours, and even though you tried to relax, you couldn’t help but think about how close you were. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on sleeping, but a strange sensation pulled you out of that state of tranquility.

At some point in the night, you felt Matt hug you from behind. It wasn’t unusual; you knew Matt always needed something to hug while he slept, and it didn’t bother you that it was you on this occasion.

What surprised you was the pressure on your lower back, a hardness you couldn’t ignore. You shifted your hips a little, trying to get yourself more comfortable, but as you did, that uncomfortable feeling in your lower back became more and more apparent.

It was a firm pressure, and although you tried to ignore it at first, you quickly realized that it wasn’t something that could go unnoticed for much longer. You shifted your hips slightly, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but as you did, the bulge in your back felt even more distinct. You paused for a second, taking in what was happening, and it was at that moment that your brain connected the dots: Matt was having a wet dream, and what you felt was his erection pressing against you.

Heat quickly rose to your cheeks, and you found yourself at a crossroads between two thoughts: the part of you that wanted to do the right thing and move so as not to make him uncomfortable, and the other part, the one that was already starting to get excited with the idea of ​​helping him, of provoking something more. You knew you shouldn't... but that same reason drove you even harder to continue.

You took a deep breath, allowing desire to take control. Slowly, you began to move your hips once again, this time with a purpose. Your ass rubbed against his erection, feeling how the hardness of his member molded perfectly to your body. At first, Matt didn't react beyond a soft grunt in his sleep, but it didn't take long for you to notice a change. His hands, which had previously rested relaxed on your waist, began to squeeze a little harder, pulling you towards him unconsciously.

Each movement of your hips became more intentional, rubbing against him slowly, enjoying the feeling of having him so close, so hard, and at your disposal. The pace was gentle at first, like a little experiment to see how far you could go without waking him up. But with each rub, the tension in the air became more palpable, and your body began to ask for more.

You bit your lip, feeling the heat between your legs increase. Just being so close to him, with his body pressed against yours, and the feeling of his erection growing more under your movements, was driving you crazy. You couldn't deny that you had fantasized about Matt before, but you never thought you'd be in a situation like this, so intimate and dangerous. However, now that you were here, you didn't want to stop.

You moved a little faster, feeling the friction begin to send small waves of pleasure through you. Every time your hips slid back, the bulge in his pants rubbed directly against your ass, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. It was an almost imperceptible sound, but loud enough for Matt, though still in his dream, to react. His grip on your waist tightened, and his body leaned forward slightly, as if he was unconsciously seeking more of you.

What surprised you was how hard he pulled you towards him, as if, even in his sleep, his body knew exactly what he wanted. You felt his breathing grow heavier behind you, his chest rising and falling faster as his hips instinctively began to move in response to your movements. He was rubbing against you now, almost matching the rhythm you had set, but doing so with a little more urgency, as if his body was begging for relief.

The pleasure of feeling him react in such a way made you move with more intensity. Your ass rubbed against him more purposefully, seeking to increase the friction. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the sensation, by the heat that was beginning to build in your abdomen and the tension that was growing with every second. You knew you were getting wet, and you couldn’t help it. Just being so close to Matt, teasing him like this, was taking a toll on you more than you had anticipated.

Suddenly, you felt Matt’s hips leaning closer to you, a low growl leaving his lips. You tensed slightly, wondering if he was about to wake up, but when there were no more rough movements, you decided to keep going. Slowly, you began to move again, this time with more pressure, making sure that every time you rubbed against him, his erection felt more directly against you. You were enjoying the power you had way too much at that moment, knowing that he was so vulnerable to your movements, so needy and oblivious to what was really going on.

A low moan left Matt’s throat as he leaned closer to you, and his hands slid down your waist, gripping you tighter. His breathing had become erratic, almost as if he was struggling to stay in that dream, but his body was already fully responding to what you were doing. You knew that if you kept this up, he wasn’t going to last much longer in this position.

So, in a moment of pure daring, you began to move faster, grinding against him in a way that provided as much pleasure to you as it did to him. The bulge in his pants rubbed directly against your ass, and the heat emanating from his body made you feel like you were going to explode at any moment.

It was then that you felt Matt's hands grip your hips in a more possessive manner, and his mouth moved closer to your ear. In a low, husky whisper, he said something that made you shiver from head to toe: "If you keep moving like that, I'm going to have to fuck you instead of staying still."

The way he said it, so charged with desire and need, made your entire body react immediately. The choice was now in your hands. And instead of stopping, you decided to continue teasing him. You moved your ass back, pressing yourself further against his erection, seeking the friction more intensely, making him grunt in pleasure against your neck.

Matt didn't hesitate for another second.

The moment your hips moved back, deliberately pressing yourself against him, everything changed. Matt stopped trying to keep still, his self-control finally giving in to the desire he had been suppressing. His breathing became even deeper and more erratic, and without another word, his hands gripped your hips tightly, pinning you against him.

You could feel the tension in his body increasing, the heat radiating from his skin, and that was when Matt began to move on his own. Slowly at first, his hips rocked forward, his erection sliding along your ass as his hands held you in place. The moan that escaped his lips was low, almost like a growl, and the intensity of his grip made you realize that, from that moment on, there was no turning back.

Your breathing quickened, pleasure and adrenaline coursing through your body as you felt Matt press harder against you. Every movement of his was more determined, more desperate. His erection rubbed against you with a firmness that drove you crazy, and every time he moved his hips, you felt the pleasure grow between your legs, as if your own body responded automatically to each touch.

"Fuck..." Matt whispered close to your ear, his voice husky and full of desire. His lips barely grazed the skin of your neck, but it was enough to send a shiver through your body. "You don't know what you're doing to me..."

The need in his voice made you bite your lip, and without thinking too much, you pushed your hips back, seeking more contact. The rubbing of his erection against your ass, the feeling of his possessive hands on you, and the heat of his body pressed against yours were making it increasingly difficult to stay calm. Your body was asking for more, begging for more.

Matt groaned as you moved, and in one swift motion, one of his hands moved down your belly to your thighs, caressing the bare skin that had been left exposed by the shorts he had lent you. The touch of his fingers, gentle but determined, sent a current of electricity straight to your core. You knew what was coming, and your body eagerly anticipated it.

“If you keep rubbing yourself like that…” he hissed, his voice deep and lust-laden, “I’m not going to be able to control myself.” But even though his words warned of what he was about to do, you didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. The tease was mutual now, and you both knew the situation was going to spiral out of control.

You moved your hips again, seeking the friction of his erection, and Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. With unexpected speed, he turned you on the bed so that you were facing him, your breathing ragged as you looked into his eyes. His were dark with desire, the tension evident in his features. The whole atmosphere had changed in a second, and now, the urgency between them was palpable.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper filled with need. His hands ran quickly over your body, sliding down your thighs, over your hips, and then up under the shirt he’d lent you, caressing the exposed skin. Every touch of his turned you on more, making the desire become unbearable.

And then, before you could process what was happening, Matt slipped a hand inside your shorts, his fingers brushing your crotch, finding you already wet with anticipation. You let out a soft moan as his fingers began to move, caressing you slowly, playing with the wetness there. You knew there was no hiding how much you wanted him right now.

"So wet..." he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as his fingers slid inside you, with an ease that made you shudder. "All this for me?"

You couldn't answer right away. The pleasure that was overwhelming you was too much, and the words were stuck in your throat. All you could do was let out a soft moan, your hips moving instinctively to seek more of his fingers.

Matt smiled darkly at the sight of you reacting that way, and without warning, he began to move faster, his fingers entering and exiting you at a pace that left you breathless. The pleasure enveloped you completely, and your body could do nothing but surrender to him, enjoying every second, every touch of his fingers.

"You know..." he began to say through clenched teeth, moving closer to you, his mouth just inches from yours, "I've wanted you like this for so long."

Matt held you tighter, his body still hot and sticky with sweat. His breathing was beginning to even out, but you could feel his heartbeat through his chest, still racing. The silence that followed felt comfortable, filled with that connection you both knew had been there all along, even if neither of you had admitted it before.

“This wasn’t a mistake, was it?” Matt asked after a few minutes, his tone vulnerable. As confident as he had been throughout the encounter, he now sounded a little unsure, like he was looking for confirmation that he hadn’t crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

You turned your head to look at him, noticing how his eyes watched you with a mix of curiosity and concern. You smiled softly at him, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek. “No, Matt. It wasn’t a mistake.”

He seemed to relax at your words, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Good. Because I don’t know if I could have held back any longer,” he admitted, laughing a little. “You’ve always driven me crazy, you know? But I never thought you… you’d want anything with me.”

You laughed softly at his confession, feeling relieved that he’d been suppressing all that desire as well. “And you think you weren’t giving me any signs? You always treated me differently than everyone else.”

Matt smiled mischievously, caressing the skin of your waist with his fingers. “And how do you want me to treat you now, after all this?”

You felt a shiver run through your body at his playful tone, and you moved closer to him, feeling his warmth against your bare skin. “I think you can treat me however you want now,” you replied, biting your lip as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He let out a low laugh, clearly satisfied with your answer, and then his lips sought yours, this time in a softer, more intimate kiss. There was no rush, no urgency like before, but the emotional intensity was still present. His lips moved against yours with a slowness that made you feel like they wanted to savor every second of that moment.

When the kiss broke, Matt stared at you, his dark eyes filled with something more than just desire. “This changes everything between us, you know?” he murmured, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I can’t see you the way I used to go back to you.”

“And I don’t want you to,” you admitted, your fingers gently playing with the edge of the sheet that covered both of your bodies. “Because I can’t see you the way I used to either.”

Matt smiled, that charming smile that always managed to disarm you, and kissed you once more, this time shorter but just as meaningful. “So… I guess we’ll have to keep this a secret for now.”

“Definitely. I don’t think Chris or Nick will take it well,” you laughed, imagining the chaos that would break out if they found out what had happened in that room.

“No way,” Matt agreed. “But honestly, it’s worth the risk.”

And with those words, you both fell silent, enjoying the quiet and closeness. There was no need for more words at that moment. What you had shared that night spoke for itself.

As you settled into his chest, closing your eyes and feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of everything that had changed between you. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but for some reason, that didn’t worry you. You were exactly where you wanted to be.

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in the warmth of Matt’s body, who continued to hold you close as if he never wanted to let you go. Still half asleep, you carefully stretched, trying not to wake Matt up. Every part of your body felt relaxed but, at the same time, aware of everything that had happened the night before. Your thoughts were a mix of contentment, happiness and a slight anxiety for what was to come next.

You got out of bed slowly, trying not to make a sound, but as you moved, Matt groaned softly and pulled you to stay next to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured hoarsely, his hand still gripping your hip.

You laughed quietly, turning to face him. “I was just going to the bathroom, don’t worry.”

He narrowed his eyes, smiling softly before letting go and letting you go. “Okay. But don’t be long, I don’t want Chris or Nick to find you before I get up.”

“Too late for that,” you heard a familiar voice from the doorway. You turned quickly and there was Chris, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face.

“Chris!” you yelled, bringing your hands to your face, horrified at the thought that he might have heard something. Matt, on the other hand, just huffed, rolling his eyes before flopping back onto the bed.

“Well, well, well,” Chris began, crossing his arms. “Look who finally did it. Nick owes me twenty bucks.”

You frowned, not quite understanding. “What are you saying?”

Before Chris could respond, Nick appeared behind him, sporting an equally wicked grin. “I said I was going to stop by before the month was out. Chris bet they wouldn’t dare until Christmas, but look at them.”

“I can’t believe it,” Chris sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I lost the bet on you, Matt. And the worst thing is that all this time we knew how you felt.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at them both, incredulous. “What? They knew?”

Nick shrugged, smiling with a mischievous grin. “Well, you weren’t very subtle, to be honest. And Matt even less so. He always looked at you like you were the only person in the room.”

Chris laughed. “And not only that. We’ve been noticing for weeks how nervous you got whenever Matt was around. We realized you felt the same way.”

You looked at Matt, who was now sitting on the bed, rubbing his face as if trying to hide his embarrassment. “They knew all this time…?” you asked, unable to help but blush.

Matt sighed deeply, looking at his brothers with a mix of annoyance and resignation. “Yeah, they knew. They made my life miserable all this time, just to see when I was going to tell you.”

“I can’t believe it,” you murmured, still shocked by the fact that Chris and Nick knew about your feelings the whole time.

Nick walked over, inspecting you with a mischievous grin, and suddenly his gaze stopped at your neck. “Wait a second…” His grin widened and he started laughing. “Wow, Matt. Not only did you finally tell her how you felt, but you also left a mark of ownership.” Nick pointed a finger at your neck, and that’s when you noticed that you had several hickeys scattered all over the exposed skin.

You brought your hand to your neck, completely embarrassed. “Oh my god, Matt!”

Chris laughed even harder, leaning into the door frame. “Matt’s always been passionate. But boy did you leave a mark last night.”

Matt threw a pillow at his brothers from the bed, trying to keep calm. “Shut up, you idiots.”

Nick dodged the pillow, still laughing, and made his way over to you, giving you a light punch on the shoulder. “Hey, at least you won’t have to sleep in my room smelling like paint anymore.”

“Yeah, you have a new bed assigned now,” Chris added, winking at you. “And it looks like Matt isn’t going to let you go anytime soon.”

Matt let out a sigh, clearly resigned to the teasing. He then got up from the bed, walking over to you and placing a hand on your lower back. “Don’t mind them. They’re just a couple of kids.”

“I can’t believe they bet on this,” you said, still shaking your head in disbelief.

“Welcome to my life,” Matt murmured with a smile as he kissed you softly on the forehead. “But at least there are no more secrets now.”

Nick and Chris continued to laugh as they left the room, leaving Matt and you alone once again. Even though the teasing from his brothers had been intense, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Finally, everything was out in the open, and there was no need to hide how you felt about each other anymore.

“So… what do we do now?” you asked, looking up at him with a shy smile.

Matt smiled back at you, gently pulling your waist to bring you closer to him. “I think we can keep betting on how long it will take for Chris and Nick to stop bothering us.”

You let out a soft laugh, resting your forehead against his chest. “I guess we’ll just have to get used to that.”

“Definitely,” Matt whispered, leaning in to give you another kiss, softer and more loving this time. “But I promise it’ll be worth it.”

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

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