#in a mood so might as well just make the list

[harrywavycurly]

Worth The Fight: Civil

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, arguing, angsty bits, pregnancy things

A/N: This one is a necessary sort of painful because we all know Harry needs a wake up call and this might just be it✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes

Summary: You ask Harry if he really wants to be a dad and it makes him rethink somethings everything and ends up with him having a impromptu therapy session with one of his bestfriends while you as usual pour your heart at to the only man that listens, Paris✨

Harry let’s out a groan as he tosses his phone onto the couch as he walks into his living room, not bothering to look to make sure it landed safely because right now he sort of wants to throw it at the wall and watch it break into pieces. Niall raises an eyebrow as he observes Harry from him spot on the loveseat, he watches with only a small amount of concern as Harry runs both hands through his hair giving it a few tugs as he lets out a frustrated sigh. Niall knows better than to ask questions when Harry is in one of his moods so he just sits back and lets his bestfriend pace the length of the couch with furrowed brows and what Niall would call an angry looking snarl on his face as if he’s fighting off the urge to hit something with the hands that are now balled into fists at his sides.

“Have you ever met someone who just,” Harry lets out a noise of pure aggravation as he pauses his pacing to look at Niall. “Makes you so irritated by just the simplest little thing but at the same time you don’t want to be mad or angry at them you just want to be around them and they-they keep making it impossible?” Niall rubs his lips together and nods as he watches Harry try his best to vocalize how he’s feeling in this exact moment.

“You mean someone who makes every emotion you feel seem like it’s dialed all the way to eleven?” Harry quirks a brow at Niall’s question as he places a hand on his hip. Niall just chuckles as he takes this as a queue to explain himself further.

“Like when you’re happy with them you’re the happiest you’ve ever been but when you’re mad it’s as if all you can see is red and you want to punch every wall in the house just to make yourself feel better and sometimes it’s like you’re always sort of mad at them and you don’t know why?” Harry nods his head as he turns and grips the back of the couch as he looks at Niall who seems to understand a bit of what Harry is going through right now emotionally.

“Yes it’s as if the only emotion I can feel around them is annoyance and it’s driving me mental.” Niall gives him a reassuring smile making him narrow his eyes into a glare at his friend who just laughs in response.

“Yeah Harry I’ve met someone like that.”

“What did you do about how they made you feel?”

“I asked her to be my girlfriend.” Harry feels his cheeks get pink at Niall’s answer, not expecting the person he was talking about to be his current partner. “Been going strong for a few years now so I’d say maybe get your head outta your ass and just ask this person out?” Niall suggests with a shrug making Harry let out a scoff as his grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“You’ve gone fully mental if you think that’s the solution to my problem.”

“The problem is you’re just mixing up your emotions that’s all.”

“What does that mean? I’m pretty sure I know the feeling of being irritated quite well thanks to sharing a tour bus with you for almost six years of my life.”

“I’m sure she’s irritating you but you need to take a look at why she’s making you feel like this. You said it yourself you just want to be around her and she’s making it hard right? How is she making it hard exactly?”

“Because she always has to be right and most of the time she is and instead of just acknowledging the fact she’s right I for some reason choose to say the stupidest shit and I end up back at square one.” Harry let’s out a sigh as he hangs his head down and closes his eyes as his mind flashes back to the conversation he just ended with you over text and how he just couldn’t admit that you needing time to forgive him for what he’s done is okay, he had to go and be the asshole you’ve grown used to him being.

“You wanna know why I think you really say the stupid shit you do to this poor girl?” Harry doesn’t bother to look up or open his eyes as he nods his head making Niall let out a sigh as he leans forward and rests his forearms on the tops of his thighs. “I think it’s because you’ve pushed your real feelings for her so deep down into yourself that the only emotions you have left to feel around her is anger and irritability. Not to mention you do bloody fucking hate admitting when someone else is right so her being right all the time probably makes you annoyed and it triggers you to say stupid and hurtful shit.” Harry slowly raises his head and opens his eyes so he can look at Niall who is already staring right at him.

“When the hell did you get to be so smart about all this kind of stuff?”

“You’re not the only one who goes to therapy you jackass.”

“Well it’s working wonders.” Niall just rolls his eyes as Harry bites his bottom lip as he tries to make a little sense of how he really feels about you. “I don’t-I don’t know how I really feel about her.” He admits quietly making Niall just nod as he stands up from the love seat.

“It’s the girl you met at that karaoke bar isn’t it? The one I met at Anne’s?” Harry debates in this moment if he should tell Niall just why you were at his mom’s house because maybe then he would understand why this whole thing is causing Harry so much stress.

“Yeah she’s uhm she’s actually pregnant.” Harry watches Niall’s eyes go wide as he turns his whole body so he’s facing Harry who is still gripping the back of his couch as if it’s the only thing capable of keeping him from collapsing to the floor in an emotional breakdown. “With my twins.” He adds making Niall’s mouth fall open but he catches himself a few moments later and closes it as he runs a hand over his face.

“Holy fucking shit.” Niall has both hands on his hips as he stares at Harry in pure shock. “You mean to tell me the girl you met at that bar and said you had a crazy connection with is the same girl I met at Anne’s and is also your baby momma?” Harry just nods and chews on his bottom lip as Niall lets out a huff. “And this is the girl you keep saying mean and hurtful shit to?”

“Yes Niall it’s all the same girl. She’s the one.”

“Yeah I’ll say she’s the one alight Harry you’ve gone and knocked up the girl you said you could picture yourself with after just one night at a fucking bar with her.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Niall I didn’t say that.”

“I’m not the dramatic one here mate. You said you can’t wait to see her again and even told her you’d call her the next day because you didn’t want to wait too long.”

“I would-would never tell anyone I’ll call them that’s tacky.”

“Let me just ask you something really quick Harry.”

“What?”

“How do you not know how you feel about her right now when you were so sure how you felt that night?”

“Because I can’t-” Niall watches Harry’s eyes go a few shades darker as they appear almost glassy looking as they stare back at him. “I can’t remember that night or at least good chunks of it-it’s just gone? I know I met her and clearly I enjoyed her company in more ways than one because she has my actual cellphone number but I can’t l-I can’t even remember details about that night so I sure as fuck can’t remember how I felt about her.” Harry swallows the lump of emotions in his throat as he admits the biggest issue he’s been dealing with ever since the first time you texted him all those weeks ago, the fact he can’t fully remember the night the two of you met.

“Fuck Harry I’m-I’m sorry.” Harry just shrugs as Niall’s shoulders slump down at hearing his bestfriend sadly admit why he can’t figure out his feelings towards you. “If it means anything I know how happy you sounded when you called me at four in the damn morning going on and on about her and-and I mean you have to know deep down that you feel something for her because if you didn’t then she wouldn’t be able to get these sort of reactions out of you. Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re sort of a fucking wreck right now and all I’ve seen you do is text someone-”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about her now because this time I really fucked it up.” Harry snaps cutting Niall off.

“Fucked it up how?” He asks with concern because one thing he knows Harry is good at is saying things he doesn’t mean and causing situations to get out of control quickly.

“She asked me if I really want to be a dad right now. Like literally not even ten minutes ago she asked me that and I somehow managed to turn it all around and made her feel like shit for not being able to forgive me for something I did at the very beginning of all of this and now-now I don’t think I can fix it so we can even be friends? I think this was my last chance and I blew it.” Harry blinks back the tears he knows what to spill over and roll down his cheeks as Niall lets out a sad sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

“I mean that’s a valid question for her to ask because well I don’t know-do you want to be a dad right now?” Niall isn’t shocked at how quickly Harry answers because he knows the man standing in front of him with tears in his eyes has always wanted this, maybe not in this exact way but he’s always wanted to be a dad.

“Yes. More than anything.”

“And did you tell her that?”

“No.” Niall wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t because he can clearly see the vulnerable and emotional state Harry is in. “I just got mad and that’s when I said the stupid things and now she thinks I’m an asshole.”

“Fuck okay well just walk me through all the shit that’s happened and the things you’ve said and maybe-maybe there’s still hope for you two being able to be friends at the very least.” Harry just nods as Niall heads over to the couch and takes a seat while Harry reaches down and grabs his phone off the cushion so he can scroll to your messages while he begins to tell Niall everything that’s happened between the two of you from the very beginning.

“We don’t hate him.” You say with a sigh as you look down at the orange cat cuddled up in your lap taking over half of the book you had started reading before you decided to reach out to Harry. “He’s their father and we don’t hate him.” You explain as you place your phone on your nightstand before you reach down and place a hand on Paris’s back giving him a nice pet.

“But we do dislike him a whole hell of a lot right now because he’s being an asshole.” You whisper to yourself as if you don’t want the two lemon sized babies in your belly to hear you talk poorly of their father. “He just doesn’t get it Paris and I don’t think he ever will.” The orange cat slowly opens his eyes and lets out a yawn as he stretches his front legs out before looking at you with a tilt of his head.

“So maybe we should just let it go? That would be easiest but-but it would also make it seem like me being upset with him and not trusting him doesn’t matter? And I don’t want him to think he can get away with things like that but I also,” you let out a shaky breath making Paris sit up so he can nuzzle his head against your cheek letting out a string of purrs in the process. “I’m so tired of fighting with him. I’m just so tired of it so fine I can be the bigger person and just-just move on.” You add with a sniffle as a few tears fall down your face as you give your cat a few loving pets making him purr and lean into your touch.

“The truly sad part is that when we met I really thought I might like him? It’s like the universe has me trapped in some sort of sick joke because the man who can’t seem to know how to do anything other than make me cry is someone I thought I could actually see myself with.” You let out a wet laugh as you wipe your cheeks and just shake your head at the idea of you ever having feelings for Harry especially now because the only feeling you get when you think about him is hurt.

[writingwisterias]

how would eras of leon respond to jealousy/yearning with sex?

Hi Anon!

Thanks for the request...I had a lot of fun thinking about this one 👀

Ok ok I'm cracking down on requests! I promise I needed a day to recover from work 💗

Warnings: NSFW, Yearning, Jealousy, Sexual Tension, MNDI

GN!Reader

RE2:

Just for something different, I'm doing a no Apocalypse AU for this one

You sit opposite him, your desks are connected. You were always so kind to him compared to the other officers

Both of you always get along well when you are paired for patrol etc

But he's not the only one that has eyes on you, every other officer seems to as well

He hates feeling jealous that the other officers are talking to you, touching you as they past and you are entertaining them?

There's a staff party and everyone is buying you drinks and chatting, he barely has a chance to speak to you. After all you are his only friend

What he didn't know is you are frustrated from all the attention and you are just trying to get to Leon

When you finally reach him, he's in a mood and it doesn't take long for you to realize hes jealous.

Maybes it's the drinks in your system or the small crush you have on him bubbling in your chest. But you kiss him

He's shocked at first, but recovers fast. His lips are desperate

Spots all the officers back off when he kisses you, so then his touch becomes possessive claiming you as his.

He'll make sure he's the only one you think about when you both leave and he takes you home. 👀

RE4R:

He's touched starved so anyone even approaches you with the intention of sex he's immediately jealous

He's confident enough that you won't go for someone else, even if you aren't exclusive but he'll be pissed off for a while

His jealous would come out in the form of silence,

like he's giving you the silence treatment until you figure out what's wrong and fix it

I think he would probably insert himself into the situation but more of him being a presence there than actually joining in...again silent treatment.

If you don't give him attention he's very heavy with eye contact, constantly trying to get you in his eyeline so he can watch you

Infinite darkness:

The most verbal about being jealous,

like he will pull you away and probably whisper to you how you are making him jealous

Longer touches as well, on your hip or lower back..he's making sure you notice it's there

I think he'll just constantly remind you of his presence until you eventually cave

To make him jealous it would be entertaining other people in an awkward conversation, like if someones asking you to dinner or whatever and your reply is "I'll have a look at my schedule" or "let me get back to you"

You probably aren't going to do either of those things but Leon doesn't like it, he'll make sure your schedule is full of him

Damnation:

I like the idea that he doesn't care enough to get jealous, like if you don't want him he will accept defeat and it will add to the list of other things wrong with his life

But he won't hide the fact he wants you

I imagine it's a situation where he's rough with everyone but you

The rest of his department constantly digs at him for this, it makes you blush when you finally notice it

Heavy eye contact on you, like constantly watching what you are doing around the office etc

It's when you are on a mission together that you finally cave and give him what he wants, and you definitely don't regret it

RE6:

I think he would be in the same boat as damnation where he doesn't really get jealous but he does show that he wants you

With his intense scenes with Ada as well he would make it even more prominent that he wants you

Whenever it's to show Ada that he's moved on or it's to show you that he still wants you

That's up to you

But he's going to make it known that there's nothing to worry about, he's smart enough to understand how him caring for Ada might seem he's still hung up on her

Vendetta:

I like the idea of you being a bartender at the bar he constantly visits

He enjoys your attention and sympathy, often having long chats about anything but his work

As soon as someone needs you though or you turn to serve another customer he's instantly jealous

You want him too, it's obvious. But not drunk and in the state of mind he's in

You understand that he would be good with that commitment and probably a loving partner but he needs to heal first

You put up with his drunken exclamations how he loves you and wants you, his constant staring and snarling at other customers

It's cute that he wants you that badly but until he sobers up and shows some signs of self improvement you won't do it

It does increase the heat from him, but he'll be thankful when he does eventually get sober

Death Island:

Super super jealous

Like you are an angel in his eyes why are you hanging out with someone else?

Why are you talking to one of his co workers? You don't need to entertain that asshole you are his

You aren't actually though, not yet

Both of you tip toeing on this line of friends and lovers

A game of seeing who caves first

He does, pressing you into a kiss that you can't forget. It was rushed after he had a close call with the virus.

Yet it leaves you logging for more, he's just waiting until you finally admit it to him

[gojozballs]

Gojo x Reader "How To Escape A Yandere"

Warning: [This story contains themes of Yandere behavior, manipulation, obsessive love, psychological tension, explicit content, self-harm, and dark themes including death and captivity]

Materialist

Gojo Satoru’s obsessive love traps Y/N in a dangerous, yandere relationship as she desperately tries to escape, blurring the lines between captivity and affection.

Author's POV

Four months. That’s how long Y/N had been stuck in this bizarre, unhinged chapter of her life. Four months since she’d wandered into Japan, thinking she was just ticking off items on her bucket list, and well, she still couldn’t quite figure out how she ended up being the personal prisoner of a man with white hair and a ridiculously cocky grin. But here we are. Four months of high-end apartments, luxury cars, and far too much—Gojo Satoru.

But let's rewind, shall we? To the beginning, when life was much simpler. When she was just a regular tourist, trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. And then, of course, there was that one fateful evening in Shibuya...

Shibuya Streets – 9 PM

Y/N stood in the middle of Shibuya’s neon-lit chaos, wondering if she should check out the ramen shop across the street or maybe that weird little café that looked like it was run by a very angry cat. The possibilities were endless, her trip was unfolding like a tourist's dream but nothing could have prepared her for the interruption that would lead to her captivity.

There he was. A literal vision of perfection, strutting down the street like he owned the whole damn place. White hair, a long black coat that looked like it was made by some world-renowned designer, and a scarf that screamed "I’m too cool to care about the weather." He was practically glowing in the dark, making the neon lights look drab in comparison. And Y/N? She did what any sensible person would do.

She stared.

Not subtlety. None. She wasn’t here for a shy glances situation. No, she was staring, and she was making it known. If she could’ve put on a neon sign that said “LOOK AT ME” she would’ve.

And look at her he did. Their eyes met. The universe, for a brief moment, paused and then everything went into slow motion. Y/N gave him the most casual, confident smirk she could muster. She was practically inviting him to make his move. And boy, did he.

He walked toward her with that strut, the kind of walk that says, “I know you’re impressed. Don’t bother hiding it.” And when he reached her, he didn’t even waste time on pleasantries.

“Well, may I know the name of the lady who’s been blatantly staring at me?”

Y/N blinked. He was speaking in her language. Which, okay, wasn’t exactly a shocker, after all but there was something extra about the way he said it. So smooth, like he knew she’d been checking him out the whole time. She wasn’t even that subtle.

Y/N, being the person she was, didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled and replied, “Well, hello there, sir. I’m Y/N. And who might you be to captivate me so much?”

Gojo chuckled, a sound that was like a warm breeze, and for a moment, Y/N actually considered the possibility that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. But hey, when in Rome or, well, Shibuya right?

“The question isn't who I am,” he said with that signature cocky grin. “It’s why you can’t take your eyes off me.”

Y/N felt a surge of excitement. This was a game. A thrilling, dangerous game. And, of course, she was all in.

“Well,” she purred, “you’ll just have to find out.”

Getting To Know Each Other

Y/N wasn’t sure how it happened. Honestly. One minute she was exchanging playful banter with Gojo Satoru, and the next bam! they were tangled in the sheets of a five-star hotel room, breathing heavily, both far too into each other for their own good.

Gojo, the smug bastard, leaned back on the pillows and let out a satisfied sigh. “Didn’t take you for a woman with experience,” he teased, his voice low and lazy.

Y/N, who was already not in the mood to let him win any round, raised an eyebrow and gave him a playful side-eye. “Well, I didn’t take you for a guy who whimpers.”

She swore she saw a flicker of surprise flash in his eyes, and it made her grin like a devil. Gojo, the untouchable, the most powerful person in Japan whimpering? he thought. Oh, this was getting good.

“You should know,” Gojo said, propping himself up on his elbows, “you were way more vocal than me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, feigning innocence. “I didn’t realize that.”

“Really?” Gojo’s voice was a dangerous whisper. “Well, let’s check again, shall we?”

And just like that, another round began.

Present

Now, four months into this unplanned, absurdly complicated mess of an adventure, Y/N had one very simple, very clear goal: escape.

But there was just one tiny problem. Gojo Satoru. The man was everywhere. Literally. She tried to leave for groceries, and boom, there he was, “accidentally” showing up at the store. She tried to sneak out at night, and suddenly, there he was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“You know, Y/N,” he’d say with that maddening grin, “you can’t run away from me. You’re mine now.”

It was cute at first. But after a while, it got... not so cute. The guy was like a relentless puppy that you couldn’t shake off, except the puppy had limitless power and a twisted sense of humor.

And the worst part? Sometimes, just sometimes, Y/N found herself thinking: What if I didn’t escape?

But nah, that thought was far too dangerous, and she quickly shoved it to the back of her mind. For now, she was focusing on how to, once again, dodge Gojo’s very real and very possessive grasp. But if you ask her, she might just tell you that escaping was a little overrated.

Because let’s face it, Gojo Satoru was a whole lot of trouble, but damn, was he fun to mess with.

Still, if she really wanted to escape a yandere like him, she’d have to get creative. Pretend to like his weird, obsessive affection? Nah, that’s too much of a horror show even for her. The trick? A mix of patience, subtle sabotage like hiding his sunglasses good luck going anywhere without those, Gojo and a touch of psychological warfare. And if that didn’t work, well, maybe she’d just have to fake an even more ridiculous obsession than his and watch him lose his mind. It was a gamble, but Y/N was good at playing games especially when the stakes were her freedom. She doesn’t care about the consequences; all she knows is that she will escape."

The Only Way Out Is to Get Help

First things first: I need to get help. It’s my only shot at escaping from him. If I can reveal Gojo’s true nature, maybe I’ll stand a chance. Every Saturday, a blonde guy in a suit and another man would come over. Gojo always tells me to stay in the room. He doesn’t hide me away from them, but he doesn’t let me interact with them either. So, the timing is crucial. It’s 5 PM now, and they’ll be here around 7. My mission? Stay out of that damn room before he locks me in.

I smile sweetly, playing my part. "Hey, would you let me make you some apple pie tonight? I’ve got all the ingredients." I settle into his lap, his hand sliding possessively over my thigh. One thing about Gojo Satoru? He’s obsessed with sweets, and I know this will keep me out of the room, at least for a little while.

"Aww, baby, you’re the best!" he gushes, and before I can pull away, his lips find mine in a flurry of kisses. I smirk internally. He’s so easy to manipulate when it comes to his weaknesses. This could work if I time it just right.

In the kitchen, I hear the door creak open. I don’t see them, but I know they’ve arrived. The penthouse is huge, but I can hear the sound of their voices echoing down the hall. Gojo’s voice, sharp and commanding, calls out to me.

"Sweetcheeks! How’s the pie going?"

I freeze. My heart starts racing. What if he makes me go to the room? I scramble to keep my composure. "Well, it’s almost done, but I need to keep an eye on it," I stammer. My hands tremble as I pour juice into two glasses. I need to move fast. I can’t let him lock me away.

"Alright, I’ll just be over here for a second… Stay away from the visitors, yeah?" Gojo’s voice isn’t a suggestion it’s a threat. I nod hastily, hoping to hide my anxiety.

This is it. I take a deep breath and make my move.

I step into the living room, hands shaking slightly as I walk toward the two men. They glance at me, and then they stand up, clearly taken off guard by my sudden appearance. The blonde man gives me a polite smile, but there’s something too practiced about it.

"Good evening."

"You didn’t have to. We’re leaving soon anyway," the other man says, his voice neutral as he glances at the juice in my hands.

I can’t waste time. This is my only chance. "Listen to me closely," I say, voice shaking with urgency. "I need to get out of here right now. Please… you have to help me."

Both men look at me, but there’s no shock, no surprise just a quiet understanding, like they’ve heard this before. The blonde man steps closer, his eyes searching mine. "What do you mean?"

My heart pounds in my chest as I spill everything, my voice trembling. "I’m being held captive! By that man. I’ve been here for months! Against my will!" My words come out in a rush, desperate to get them to understand.

But their reactions are not what I expect.

The blonde man simply tilts his head. "Seems like Gojo-san’s stories weren’t exaggerated after all."

I blink, completely thrown off. What the hell do they mean by that? They’re... acting like this is normal?

The smaller man in the suit adds, almost casually, "Well, that’s just Gojo for you."

I stand there, frozen, my mind reeling. They’re not even reacting like it’s a big deal. No shock, no concern just another day at the office for them. It feels as though they’ve seen this all before, as if it’s just another facet of Gojo Satoru that they’ve come to accept. They don’t question it. They don’t intervene.

Before I can ask any more, Gojo’s voice cuts through the air, laced with a dark warning. "Causing a scene, sweetcheeks? I told you to stay away from them."

His hand grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him. There’s no playfulness in his gaze now just raw, unrelenting darkness. "Do you want to see another man that badly?"

And then it hits me. I understand the twisted truth. Gojo isn’t keeping me away from them to protect me. He’s doing it out of jealousy, that sick, possessive urge to control every inch of my life.

The worst part? These men... they’re not surprised. They don’t care. They just accept that this is Gojo’s way, and that’s how things are. There’s no saving me from this nightmare.

I shiver, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I have to find another way because if I stay here any longer, I might lose whatever little of myself I have left.

Freedom in Death

It’s been two weeks since I tried my first escape, two weeks since my wrists were marked by the desperate attempt. The bruises are healing, but the frustration? That never fades. Sure, Gojo’s given me everything: luxury gifts, food so expensive it could make anyone feel guilty, and experiences I’d never known existed before I met him. I should be happy, right? But no, I’m suffocating. It’s not the lavish life I thought I’d always wanted.

I need to disappear. The plan this time? To vanish completely, to make myself a ghost. The thought that Gojo could easily erase me from existence, make me a missing person without even breaking a sweat, has been haunting my every thought. He has power that could bury me without a trace.

I’m already numb, the luxury around me like glitter on a dead body.

“Y/n, babyyyy, I bought caviar for dinner!” Gojo’s voice cuts through the heavy silence, too cheerful for the mood I’m in. I hate it, that forced brightness in his tone that only makes me feel more like a prisoner than anything else. He’s always there, smiling, watching, like I’m just one more toy to add to his collection.

I sigh, my breath heavy as I reply, “Alright, let me just wash up.” My voice is flat, detached, like I’m talking through a haze. It doesn’t matter, though. He wouldn’t care. I walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Not that it’ll stop him. Gojo can break anything, but for now, I’ll indulge myself in this small act of control.

The tub is cold. I keep my clothes on as I sit down, the knife beside me gleaming with dark potential. This is it. I can end it all. No more hiding. No more pretending I don’t want to escape from the nightmare of Gojo’s love. He thinks he’s the sun, that he can shine on everyone and anyone—but not me.

I lift the blade slowly, positioning it on my wrist. The cold steel makes my heart race, my fingers trembling as I whisper into the silence, “I hope you take karma for this, Gojo Satoru.”

The first cut stings. I let out a shaky breath, watching the blood spill out like it’s finally leaving the prison inside me. I don’t stop there. No, I dig deeper. I carve out my pain, feeling the red warmth spread. I welcome the dizziness, the fading light. It’s almost... peaceful.

But then... his voice.

“Sweetcheek, why are you taking so long in there?” Gojo knocks, his voice casual, like he’s asking me about dinner, not about what I’m about to do. I don’t answer.

He doesn’t try to break down the door, which is laughable. He doesn’t know. He thinks I’m just taking a long bath, but he’s wrong.

I’m dying in here.

I can hear his footsteps getting closer. I can hear his stupid, careless voice call my name. “Y/n? Baby?” The door rattles, and then I feel his hands, pulling me into his chest, his breath hitching as he realizes what I’ve done.

I smile weakly, feeling the world spin. This is satisfying, in a way. His panic, his desperation. The way he holds me like I’m a fragile thing that could break. But he doesn’t understand.

“Y/n?! Baby? No, no, no...” His voice cracks, and my heart stabs like the knife in my wrist. Tears? Is he crying? Oh, how deliciously unexpected. I want to laugh.

But I don’t have the strength.

“Don’t you close your eyes, baby,” he says, his voice trembling, his hands shaking as they press against my skin. "This isn't over."

And then everything fades to black...

I wake up in a bed I didn’t ask for. A bed surrounded by the faint scent of antiseptic, the echo of voices too close, too suffocating.

“She’ll be fine now, Satoru,” a woman’s voice says. It’s calm, too calm.

“Maybe you should stay here in the meantime, just to be sure, Shoko,” Gojo’s weak voice follows, barely above a whisper.

“She’s fine. Just keep an eye on her like you always do,” the woman, Shoko, says. I can almost hear the roll of her eyes, the distance in her words.

And then I realize it. I’m still here. I’m still trapped. I couldn’t even escape with death.

I want to scream...

A month has passed with Satoru never leaving for work, staying by my side to ensure I won't try anything like that again. The days drag on, but I force myself to heal, to put on the appearance of recovery. Because as soon as I’m whole again, another plan will begin. And this time, nothing will stop me...

Yandere by Choice, Not by Heart

If I could match his vibe back then, I could definitely do it again. You know, the whole “pretend to be just as obsessed” routine until he finally cracks and gives me the freedom I want. So far, this little game has been almost too easy. He thinks I’m just needy, but I’ve got my eyes on the prize freedom. The one thing I’ve learned about Gojo Satoru? He’s a busy man, and he takes his job seriously. If I can keep up this act, I can make him so wrapped up in me that he’ll fold. At least, that’s the plan.

As I feel his arms slip from around me, I can tell the routine is starting. He’s always so punctual, always so... serious about his work. It’s cute, really, but today? Not today, not when I need him to stay in bed with me just a little longer.

“Toruuu…” I whined, pulling him back to me. “Where you going?”

He froze, half standing and half leaning over, looking like the workaholic he is. I took that as my cue and immediately tugged him back down, burying my face in his chest and sniffing him like he’s some kind of scent-filled snack. Just like he does to me. His scent? Pure temptation.

“Oh sweet cheeks, what’s up with you?” He chuckled, his voice a low, smooth purr as he stroked my hair. “You know it’s time for me to get ready for work.”

I made a dramatic, exaggerated groan. “But I need you hereeee.”

Mentally, I cringed at my own words. Did I just say that? Yeah, I did. Whatever. He loves it. He’s not going anywhere. He’s gonna stay with me and—wait for it—skip work for me.

“Oh, really?” Gojo chuckled, his arms tightening around me as if he’s considering it. “Alright, since you’ve never been this sweet, maybe I’ll skip today.”

Yes! Victory! My first win. I mentally fist-pumped, but on the outside, I kept the act up, batting my lashes at him like I had no idea what I was doing.

"Thank you, Toru," I said in my best innocent voice, nuzzling into him. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Days Passed...

My plan? Keep turning up the obsession. I’m practically a step away from being more needy than he is. And you know what? It’s working. Slowly but surely, it’s working.

There was that one day when I insisted we shower together. Nothing too extreme, just a bit of skin-to-skin to remind him that, yes, I am always this close to him.

“Mm, I love when we shower together,” I purred, pretending to casually reach for the shampoo, brushing my body against his.

Gojo smirked, his usual cocky grin spreading across his face. “Yeah? You just want to see me naked.”

“Maybe,” I teased, “but mostly, I just love when you're all wet and slippery.”

His eyes darkened for a second, but he quickly recovered. “You're a mess, you know that?”

“Oh, but I’m your mess.” I grinned up at him.

He just laughed, as if he enjoyed every second of it. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide if he should be more amused or concerned.

But wait, there’s more.

I also started following him everywhere. I mean everywhere. To the bathroom at night? I’d insist on accompanying him. Peeing together? Sure, why not. We’re close, after all. Besides, he never seems to mind when I casually slide into the bathroom with him at two in the morning.

“Really, Y/N? You’re going to watch me pee?” he teased one night as I leaned against the doorframe, casually inspecting my nails.

“I’m not watching,” I replied with a wicked grin. “I’m joining.”

The night didn’t stop there, though. After all, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. We had to have our “three times a day” sex quota. Why not? It’s not like we had anything better to do, right?

“You’re insatiable,” Gojo said, breathlessly flipping us over mid-session as I moaned against him. “You sure you’re not the one obsessed here?”

“Why, Toru, I am obsessed,” I whispered in his ear, my lips brushing against his skin. “But you're the one who started this.”

And oh, he did. He absolutely started it. Now I had him where I wanted him: in every way possible.

The Ultimate Game

Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away. He loved when I ate off his plate. He loved when I insisted on eating from the same spoon as him. A little weird, but it worked. At least he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed... content? Happy? Maybe?

“Seriously, Y/N?” Gojo asked, as I snatched another piece of sushi from his plate. “You’re eating all my food.”

“I’m just making sure you’re not starving,” I said sweetly, taking another bite. “We’re basically one. So it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” He shook his head, a smirk dancing at the corner of his lips. “If you want to eat off my plate, you’re going to have to share the bathroom with me every time I go in there.”

“Done.”

Oh, and don’t forget the bathroom negotiations. Every time I would "need" some alone time, I'd make sure he waited outside the door. Not to pee or anything oh no, I was doing my business but it was all a part of the game. And guess what? He was starting to enjoy it.

“Really, Y/N?” Gojo said, sitting casually against the doorframe, smirking at me. “You’re going to make me wait outside?”

“Yep. You’re lucky I’m even letting you know what’s going on in there.”

It was a lot of fun, but I couldn’t help the nagging thought in the back of my mind... Was I starting to lose myself in this little game?

It’s working. It’s all working. All the clinginess, all the obsession, it’s finally making him bent to my will. And every time he smirks, every time he looks at me with that dangerous, half-amused, half-worried look, I know he’s in it now.

“Be as obsessed as he is,” I thought to myself, a wicked grin on my face.

But maybe... just maybe... I was starting to like it.

The Endgame

Okay, okay. Maybe escaping was a bit… ridiculous. Who needs to escape anyway? The more I thought about it, the more I realized: What if the real escape wasn’t about running? What if the escape was just… getting lost in this whole twisted, insane mess?

It was starting to hit me maybe he wasn’t that bad. I mean, sure, Gojo Satoru was possessive, borderline obsessive, and utterly impossible to shake off, but let’s be real: when was the last time anyone was this dedicated to loving you? Hell, it’s practically a rarity these days. Most guys can’t even commit to a dinner reservation, let alone a life sentence with someone like me.

So yeah, maybe he stalks me like a possessive ghost. Maybe he follows me everywhere, even into the bathroom 'I really wasn’t expecting him to just chill outside while I… did my thing, but hey, that’s true commitment'. Maybe I kind of like it.

And let’s not even mention the whole “skipping work” thing. Seriously, it’s like he’s a workaholic... unless I pout and bat my lashes, and suddenly he’s throwing his entire career out the window for me. It’s not like I forced him into it… too much. Who wouldn’t want to feel this wanted? That’s basically an act of love, right?

[youngshiney]

sm bg ranking

inspired by my beloved mutual @djxiao best to worst order btw

1.) EXO (& units)- self explantatory

2.) WayV- best music outside of Exo and the women

3.) Shinee- incredible music, incredible line up

4.) TVXQ- same as above but as a known Jaejoong and Junsu enjoyer, i have to mark them down a slot

5.) Riize- i enjoy the songs but i love every member so they're high on the list

6.) 127- Yuta my beloved,,,, if he had more lines and screen time, they'd be way higher on the list but he doesnt so they're not

7.) Shinhwa- music slaps and i love Andy especially for debuting some of my fave nugus

8.) Fly To The Sky- im not as familiar with their music (hence why they're low) but i love Brian Joo so much so they're a little high up

9.) HOT- i like a few songs and they're so iconic but i lowkey have beef with Kangta so

10.) Younique Unit- actually a perfect line up but they're down bc they only gave me one song and its a car ad (im counting them as a bg even tho we have Hyo as well but she can do whatever she wants)

11.) SuperM- some banger songs but Kai, Baek, and Taemin were better than this

12.) Dream- i like basically two songs, i just don't vibe with their music at all

13.) Wish- sorry to the children but idk them like that, its nothing personal

14.) Trax- i probably would like them but they basically disbanded before i even got into kpop so i never looked into them much

15.) Black Beat- never heard of them

16.) Dear Alice- british

17.) Suju-M- i love Henry so much and they gave me a banger song but they were basically useless and Henry deserved to be in a real group and i hate like basically every other member except Han Geng and Zhou Mi

18.) Suju- last for a fucking reason, hate them for real. terrible people but they have like three good songs. Eunhyuk and Ryeowook are alright but everyone else better watch out

[hxney-lemcn]

Mine, Only Mine — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?

tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)

wc: 1.2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥I know people have written about how he gets jealous…but I don’t really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling won’t pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear scene…). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isn’t too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did. 

❥On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you don’t like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, he’ll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special. 

❥Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and he’ll be as right as rain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3

❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?

❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.

❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.

❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye. 

❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.

❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.

❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation. 

❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?

❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he’s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella. 

❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.

[smoft-demons]

MC needs some extra love

_______

You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.

Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.

_______

Lucifer:

When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.

He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.

He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.

He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.

You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.

When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.

His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.

_______

Mammon:

Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!

You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.

The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!

He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.

He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.

It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.

Eventually though, he strikes gold!

That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!

From that point on, he knows what to do!

The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!

He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!

Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.

He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.

He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.

The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.

He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!

_______

Levi:

Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.

You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.

Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!

He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!

But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!

So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.

If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.

There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.

When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.

After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!

You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.

_______

Satan:

Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.

Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?

He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.

But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!

You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?

You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.

Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.

You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.

Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.

He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.

In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.

Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.

This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.

It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!

You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.

Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.

(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)

_______

Asmo:

Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.

But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!

Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.

He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.

He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.

Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.

He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.

At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.

He spends a good long while doing that.

He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.

For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!

He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!

… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.

_______

Beel:

Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.

He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.

His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.

He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.

He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.

He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.

When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.

You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?

He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.

The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.

Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.

At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.

So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.

Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.

_______

Belphie:

Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.

It’s straight to baby jail with you!

In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.

He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.

Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.

He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.

Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.

He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.

If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.

He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.

It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.

Belphie knows what he’s doing.

It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.

Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?

You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!

He can fix that, right?

He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.

He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.

Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.

There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.

He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.

If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.

_______

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

[shockercoco]

Necessary Revenge

Art Donaldson x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, sub!art, dirty talk, handjob, overstimulation

Word count - 2111

a/n - yeah this is definitely on the list of the dirtiest things i've written. by popular request, here's part 2 to Cheer Up, but it can also be read by itself. Also tysm for all the love on Cheer Up. Sorry this took so long, and I hope you enjoy :)

You hated it when Art teased you, which is exactly why he does it. All you want is a loving boyfriend who listens to you and does what you say, is that too much to ask? Apparently so.

Obviously, the only reasonable solution is to seek revenge. Unfortunately for Art, after being denied an orgasm earlier after a rough day, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Well, maybe not unfortunate since this is most likely what he wants. 

You were trying to study and watch playbacks of matches on your laptop to better your skills, but since you’re no longer in the mood, you decide you might as well close it.

After cleaning up your area, you head into the bedroom to see Art leaning against the headboard on his phone, his back propped by pillows. The television is on but on low volume, he always needed some type of background noise. Art glances up from his phone once he notices you walk in and can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. As soon as he looks back down, you shoot him a glare.

“Back for more?” Art asks.

Just you wait.

“Not exactly,” you tell him as you climb next to him on the bed, using the sweetest tone possible. You get yourself situated against the headboard with him, making sure you’re comfortable – you plan on being here a while. “What are you doing?” 

“Just texting Patrick, he’s complaining about the match he just lost and how he needs to find a way to improve.”

“Well, he always was a sore loser,” you say. Art hums and nods in agreement as he continues to text his best friend. He doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation, so you decide to begin your revenge plan.

You turn your attention to the tv hanging on the wall as you place your hand on Art’s thigh. He must be too into his phone since he doesn’t notice, so you continue to raise your hand higher along the fabric of his sweatpants.

Art’s body tenses as he feels your hand move up his body, his fingers frozen above the keyboard on his phone. You notice the questioning glance he gives you from the corner of your eye, but you continue to play innocent as you keep your attention forward.

You wait for Art’s focus to go back to his phone before drifting your hand even higher and stopping right over his crotch. You don’t hide the smile that starts to grow on your face as you feel his cock slowly starting to harden over your touch. Art’s breathing begins to shallow out as he tries to maintain his focus and keep his mind straight. Well, that is until you give his crotch a firm squeeze causing him to let out a small moan and his eyes to flutter.

“What are you doing?” he asks you, his voice low.

“What do you mean? I just want to spend some time with you,” you answer in a casual tone, but Art can see right through your facade. He can feel his heartbeat getting faster. You finally turn your head towards him to notice his blue eyes not slightly widened as he stares back at you. You notice the way his chest slowly rises and falls in anticipation as his grip tightens around his phone. “Is something wrong?”

He gulps. “N-No, just a question.”

“I’m pretty sure Patrick is waiting for you to text him back,” you say, nodding towards his screen. 

Art continues to stare for a few more seconds before nodding and looking back at his phone, but you don’t take your eyes off of him. You let your hand hover above him as you wait for him to send a few more messages out before beginning to palm him through his sweatpants.

Art bites his lip as he lets a whimper. His cock is at full attention now as your hand continues to move. The grip he has on his phone is faltering, his hands starting to tremble and his face completely flushed. When his hands fall into his lap along with his phone, you stop and raise your eyebrows.

“Pick it back up and continue texting him,” you command, your tone firm. His phone is vibrating non-stop from Patrick’s pettiness.

“Baby-.”

“I said continue,” you tell him. 

A look of desperation flashes across his face before he lifts his phone back up and responds to the messages. Your hand starts back up again, and Art lets out a noise, sounding like he wants to start crying. 

He’s falling apart with just a touch of your hand.

Art is starting to get annoyed at Patrick’s texts and wishes they would just stop so he could enjoy himself. He knows you’re not too pleased right now, but he doesn’t care. It just feels too good.

You lean your head into his neck for you to kiss just below his ear, his favorite spot and his weakness. “What’s wrong? You were so cocky earlier, where’s that same energy?”

A shiver runs through Art’s body at the feeling of your breath on his neck. He lets out another whine as he closes his eyes for a second before opening them back up. He’s looking at his phone, but given the fact that his head is starting to feel empty, he can’t really make out the words on the screen.

“You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” you taunt as you press down harder on Art’s crotch, causing him to buck up into your hand. 

You pull away from his neck to get a good look at his face, which now has a distant look on it. His mouth is ajar as he looks back at you. You tilt your head, waiting for him to respond to you, but all he does is whimper and pant. He’s a complete mess.

You bring him into a kiss by grabbing the back of his neck, which he happily gives in to. The kiss is filled with nothing but need – more on his end than yours. Art drops his phone on the bed next to him so he can grab your waist, pulling you even closer to him. He whimpers into your mouth as you give his hair a quick put firm tug.

He plunges his tongue into your mouth, needing even more from you. You allow it for a moment before pulling back just a little to wrap your lips around his tongue. Art lets his eyes roll into his head at the feeling of you sucking his tongue. He feels his climax coming quickly from the combined pleasure, and you can tell by the fact of him squirming under your touch more and more.

“You’re not going to cum without my permission are you?” you ask after pulling away from his mouth.

Art feels his eyes become heavy as his forehead pressed against yours. “No.”

“Good boy,” you smile, and that brings Art even closer to the edge. He removes his hand from your waist to grab a hold of the cover beneath him.

“Can I cum?” he pleads as he throws his head back against the headboard, your hand still on the back of his neck.

“Not yet.”

“Baby please,”he pleads again, his breathing speeding up.

“No,” you tell him, wanting to torture him.

“Baby I can’t. I-I can’t,” he stutters, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed.

“That’s too bad,” you tell him. You feel his hips stutter under your touch making it known that he’s about to cum anyways. You already knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer. 

Art lets out a cry as his orgasm floods through his body and shoots out of him. A wet patch begins to appear through his sweatpants as you keep on pressing against him. He continues to roll his hips into your hand as he rides his orgasm out, a string of gasps falling out of his mouth.

“Oh no,” you fake pout, “Looks like you didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry, I tried,” he pants as he opens, looking down at the stain on his pants before making eye contact with you. A look of embarrassment falls on his face.

He’s so cute.

You move your hand away from him. “What a shame,” you shake your head in fake disappointment. There’s a moment of silence before you say, “pull your pants down.”

“What?” Art asks, confused. He thought you were done, but he was so wrong.

“You heard me,” you say in a plain tone. 

Art hesitates before shimmying his pants down his legs to his knees, along with his underwear. You look down to see a mess of his cum covering his shaft, and as you take a look at his underwear, you see some sticking to the fabric. His cock is red and starting to soften, but that’s going to change.

Art gives you a look of realization as he lifts his head from the headboard once it registers in his mind what you’re about to do. “Please don’t.”

You ignore his request as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He jumps at the feeling of your cold hand around him, still sensitive from his orgasm. You stare into his eyes as you begin moving your hand up and down. Art lets out a pathetic whine as his body jerks, trying to escape your touch, but it doesn’t work.

“You know, you’re just so easy,” you tease.

“Baby, please-,” Art cuts himself off with a whimper, his hips starting to writhe against the cover.

“Please what? You should be thankful that I’m doing this, unlike how you denied me my orgasm earlier,” you tell him. “I’m letting you cum as many times as you want.”

“Oh my god,” he says as he drops his head. His voice strangled as his second orgasm unexpectedly arrives. You watch as his cum lands on your hands and the bottom of his white shirt. 

A sticky and wet sound echoes through the room as your hand speeds up around him. Art’s mouth falls open as his breathing picks up once again. He looks at you, silently begging, but you ignore him once again. You remove the hand from behind his neck and place it on one of his legs to help keep his body still.

“Say you’re sorry,” you tell him as you run your thumb over his tip a few times..

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, his grip on the cover tightening. He feels like his hands might be stuck in fists by the time this is over.

You pretend to think in your head before saying, “I don’t think you mean it.”

His voice is high and whiny as he throws his head back once again and says, “I am. I promise.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you shrug. “Make me believe it.”

Art begins to rethink his choices and starts to regret messing with you. “I’m so, so, so sorry, baby. I swear. It was wrong of me to do that to you.”

“Hmm.”

“Baby.”

You smirk at his desperation. “I forgive you.”

“Oh, no, I think I’m going to cum again,” he cries, his eyes rolling back once again as his body tenses.

“Go ahead,” you tell him.

Art’s third orgasm hits him harder than his previous two. He trembles as his back arches away from the headboard while watered down cum spurts out of him. Drool spills out the side of his mouth as you continue the motions of your hand.

He uses a hand and reaches down to pull yours away from his cock, but you slap it away. Art gasps as he continues to twitch in your hand, feeling like he can’t stop as cum flows out of him. You finally move your hand away, but his cock continues to spasm with your touch.

Wanting to torture him one last time, you lean down to wrap your mouth him, sucking and cleaning. Art’s body jerks as he curls forward and grabs your head. You laugh as you pull away.

You lean back against the headboard, pulling his head into the side of your neck to help him calm down. His breath tickles you as he tries to slow his heart down. You glance down at his spent cock with a smile as you gently rub his back.

After a long moment of silence, Art’s phone vibrates from its place on the bed beside him.

You shake your head as you ask, “Are you going to answer that?”

“Patrick can fucking wait,” he breathes out.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Still You Want Me

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“

Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“

“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“

“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“

“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”

“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”

“She’s my freakin’ wife-“

“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“

“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“

Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“

“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”

Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.

Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.

Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer. 

But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.

That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-

“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”

“Wha-“

Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“

“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“

“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“

“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“

“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“

“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“

Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“

“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“

“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“

“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“

“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“

“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“

Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful. 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“

“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“

Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”

There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.

“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“

“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone. 

But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-

“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“

Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“

He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“

“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”

“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”

Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.

They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.

Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.

He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“

Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”

“No, the music was on, I know you said-“

Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”

Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“

“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”

Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“

“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”

Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.

“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”

“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“

“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“

“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”

“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.” 

Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“

“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”

“Sammy-“

Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“

“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”

“But I could-“

“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“

Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”

“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”

“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”

Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“

“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”

It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”

“Dean!” 

He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“

“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“

Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“

“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“

Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down. 

Usually.

“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“

Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“

“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“

“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“But I’ve been mean-“

“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“

“He said you had mood swings.”

She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest.  “You’re a snitch-“

“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”

She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room. 

And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.

Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.

Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them. 

End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.

Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[grandline-fics]

Terms of Endearment

DESCRIPTION:  You call them by a term of endearment without realising 

WARNINGS: just fluff, mentions of alcohol in Luffy's

CHARACTERS: Ace, Sabo, Luffy | Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro

WORDS: 1,933

A/N: The next part in this in honour of reaching 500 followers. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

You knew nothing would ever happen between you and the Division Commander. You knew he was just a likeable guy who was friendly and warm with everyone. Countless times you told yourself that he was just nice with everyone and yet still you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat just a little faster when he smiled at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from liking him a little more each time he spoke with you and spent time with you outside of chores and tasks being done onboard the ship. It didn’t matter though, even with the knowledge nothing romantic would happen you were happy to be considered a close friend of Ace’s.

One morning you were perched on the edge of the ship’s railing and keeping a critical eye on the thick wall of cloud draped over the entirety of the sky above the next island you were approaching. It made a stark difference to the clear blue you and the rest of the crew were currently under. You were no stranger to the absurdity of the ever changing weather and separate climates certain islands had but seeing what you were going to be greeted with was starting to sour your mood. It wasn’t as fun stopping at an island if there was a storm to endure.

“Glaring at the clouds won’t make them change you know.” You looked over your shoulder to see Ace hop up onto the railing and sit down beside you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye you were jealous of how relaxed he was and let out a long sigh as you returned your stare to the clouds you could now see were darker than you had originally thought. 

“Who knows, stranger things have happened on these seas.” You mused, scowling harder now that the idea was in your head. “Maybe I have the ability to control weather and neither of us knew it? Don’t know unless I try.”

From beside you Ace laughed, reclining back to support his body on his elbows and grinned up at you. 

“If that were possible, that’d be a pretty dumb gift. Glaring at clouds to make them obey you? You’d get a headache all day.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, getting more comfortable too, lying down and tucking your arms behind your head. 

“Look we can’t all be super amazing and control fire like some people, Ace.” You teased, a small yawn breaking from your lips as your eyes closed. You were still a ways away from the stormy island so you may as well make the most of the sunshine and warmth until then. “Some of us are just boring.”

“I definitely wouldn’t call you boring.” Ace told you. Safely in the knowledge that you couldn’t see him, he could observe you carefully with softened gaze. “You’re one of my favourite people to hang out with.” 

“Aw thank you love, you always know just what to say.” Your relaxed smile brightened considerably but you were too drowsy to open your eyes again to look at the man beside you. It was also why you hadn’t realised your slip of the tongue. Ace however tensed and sat up a little straighter from his once relaxed position. His eyes were widened and a soft pink was dusting his freckled skin. All this time he’d thought his feelings were one-sided and now he was hit with the reality that it might not be the case. Overcome with a burst of excitement and hope he quickly lay back down and used his hat to hide his giddy expression and began to think about how to subtly broach the subject when you were awake.

SABO

“You’re not going to improve if you don’t keep your focus.” Hack lectured, swiftly knocking Sabo back with ease. Sabo managed to recover from the attack and retaliated with one of his own that was completely dodged to the point it made the attack look so pitiful. Hack paused in the sparring match to frown at the younger Revolutionary. “Seriously, what’s with you today? Do you need to take a break?” Quickly Sabo shook his head and forced himself to keep his attention on Hack but even then he couldn’t help but feel your presence silently calling to him. 

You were oblivious to the power you had over the Chief of Staff, even from the very first day you joined the Revolutionary Army you’d somehow managed to make Sabo immediately endeared to you. Given Sabo’s personality he was able to pass off his momentary slips and lack of concentration when you were around and for the most part others hadn’t made the connection. Most being the word. People like Hack, Koala, and Dragon however knew. Normally Hack wouldn’t mind and ignore it but this was the third time in the short amount of time of the sparring match that he’d seen Sabo zone out and look your way as you were speaking with Dragon about a recent mission you’d been on. Enough was enough. After knocking Sabo onto his back, Hack turned and called you over. You finished your conversation with Dragon and approached the sparring pair with a soft, expectant smile while Sabo got to his feet. “I want you to spar Sabo with me. Perhaps having two opponents will help sharpen his dulled senses.” 

You became concerned to hear Hack’s less than complimentary tone at the blond and you looked to Sabo with a light frown, scrutinising his features carefully. Could it be he was sick? Was something else be bothering him? It wasn't like the Chief of Staff to be so distracted especially when it came to his training. At the suggestion of you fighting along with Hack, Sabo’s expression became a mix of uncertainty and irritation. He didn’t want to spar against you but he couldn’t outright deny Hack requesting you join them given he had no real reason to oppose it. Sabo could only take a breath and adjust his stance while praying he didn’t make an embarrassment of himself.

At first having you as part of the fight helped Sabo when it came to focusing on the fight, by having two skilled fighters attacking he didn’t have the ability to pay attention to his personal feelings. However when he kept his sight on Hack as the priority he’d slipped up and forgotten you. You took the window of opportunity and ducked under Sabo’s arm, your face less than inch from his. Quickly you hooked her arm around his and tucked your foot around his ankle, twisting and knocking him to the ground. You kept a firm hold on Sabo’s wrist and pressed your knee into his back. “Give up sweetie?” you asked innocently, unable to see Sabo’s eyes widen. Before he could respond you were abruptly called for by another Revolutionary to go out on a mission. Pouting you released Sabo and left him and Hack. 

“Please tell me I didn’t imagine that…” Sabo uttered, almost begging Hack. He looked up to see the Fishman grin at him and help him to his feet. 

“No I heard it too. Funny thing is I don’t think they noticed they did it.” Sabo watched your retreating form and brightly smiled. 

“Interesting.”

LUFFY

For the most part Luffy can be considered fairly clueless about a lot of things if they don’t involve his ambition to be King of the Pirates and obtaining the One Piece, doing whatever he wanted and eating all he wished. That included his own deeper feelings at times. However no matter how complex Luffy’s emotions were about certain things he found it easier to break them down into more simplistic views and gain a better understanding about them. He found he had to do that with you and the longer you were part of his crew the more he had to take an inward look at his feelings. So far he was able to discern that he liked you, he liked being around you and it was mutual because you’d been all too eager to join his crew. For the longest time it was simple as that. 

Things however became complicated one night after he and the rest of the crew helped free another town from a corrupt ruler. As always the celebration was a large affair with plenty of food, music and drink. While Luffy wasn’t a drinker and happily indulged in all the food he could get his hands on, you were pulled into a drinking contest with some of the locals along with Nami, Zoro, Franky, and Usopp. You’d managed to hold your own for a respectable amount but when you felt the world being to tilt and your mind grow hazy you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore. 

Staggering from the table you somehow managed to wander to the only spot you knew you’d feel completely safe and content with. You didn’t know how you managed it, call it instinct or sheer will but you stopped beside your Captain and slid down to sit on the soft grass beside him, leaning against his back for support. Luffy looked over his shoulder to grin at you before continuing to eat. “You lost huh?” he laughed before taking a large bite of a meat skewer.

“It’s cheating when Zoro plays.” You grumbled, shifting to get more comfortable against your Captain. “He’s so smug too. Didn’t even wanna win anyway.” You fell into soft laughter with Luffy and then drifted into content silence. Subconsciously Luffy moved while he ate, seamlessly turning so you were leaning against his side and neither of you seemed to even notice the new position.

When morning came and you woke with a hangover and lack of memory you let out a worried groan, hoping that whatever you’d done wasn’t too embarrassing or at the very least you hoped that everyone else was also too drunk to remember too. Wincing you pushed yourself up to see that you were in your own bed. Hazily you tried to force your brain to work and managed to pull out the image of Luffy which made sense, he was your go-to for anything. Knowing he didn’t drink, you knew you could also rely on him for the truth on what you failed to remember. You found Luffy sitting on Sunny’s head just as you knew he’d be but you became worried to see him frowning, deep in thought. “Everything okay Luffy?” you asked, flinching when Luffy’s head swiftly snapped around to look at you intently. 

“No! You’re not allowed to call me that.” Immediately worry and guilt took hold. What had you done? Would he ever forgive you? Oh no, what if it was so bad he’d kick you off of the ship for good. 

“Wh-what do you mean?“ You asked panicked and feeling sick which was not from the hangover. “Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry but I don’t remember. Please tell me what I did wrong. I can fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Luffy’s expression became confused. “I’ve just decided that you can’t call me Luffy anymore I like what you called me last night after I helped you to bed better.” 

“Oh…” you couldn’t tell what you were feeling in that moment exactly. Desperately you tried to think what you called him, silently thankful that whatever it was hadn’t offended him. “Well if you want me to call you that instead you have to remind me.”

“You called me dear.” Luffy grinned while your face reddened.

[xxblairexxss]

Cookies!

Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader

Them : Angst, I think.

Word count : 2k

Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.

I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔

Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.

But you did.

There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.

Some even called you lucky.

A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.

But there were still ups and downs.

The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.

“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.

Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.

And so did Aaralyn.

Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.

“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”

You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”

“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.

“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.

She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”

“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”

“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.

“What kind of powder?”

“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.

••

Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.

“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.

“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.

The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.

“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.

“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.

You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.

“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.

“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.

You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.

“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.

“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.

“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.

Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”

“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”

You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.

“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.

“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.

Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.

“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.

“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.

Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.

“Daddy…?”

“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.

“It’s me, Alyn!”

“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.

Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.

Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.

“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.

“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”

“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.

Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”

Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.

“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.

“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.

“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”

“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.

“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.

“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.

“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”

Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.

You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.

“Come, baby,”

Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”

Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.

“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”

“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.

“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”

**

Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.

3:02

Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.

It was empty. Untouched even.

“Honey?”

His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.

“Aaralyn. Honey?”

Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.

“Daddy’s

— Aarlyn ❤️”

••

You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.

As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.

Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.

“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.

“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.

“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.

“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.

“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”

“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.

“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.

“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.

“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”

[kaybug88]

Simon “Ghost”  Riley x Wife!Reader

December 15th: “Mom! Dad! I know what I want for Christmas. . . A sibling!”

Note: You and Simon have a six year old daughter named Bellatrix; nickname Trixy

TW: suggestive towards end WC: 692

Requested: Nope!

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

“No.”

Simon says as Bellatrix suggests that she wants a pony for Christmas. A pony, really?! Neither of you are made of money, let alone have the money to buy land for said pony, the pony itself, nor the necessities! 

You stifle a laugh as Trixy stomps her little foot as she angrily crosses messy writing off her Santa list.

“Maybe Santa will get it for you.”

You suggest, trying to lighten the mood of your angry daughter. She shakes her head as she scans through her list. Her deep chocolate brown eyes going up and down her paper before her eyes sparkle and widen. 

“Mom! Dad! I want a sibling for Christmas!”

Bellatrix exclaims excitedly, proudly showing you her list with the word ‘sibling’ in all caps with bolded letters. Jeez, she must really want a sibling.

Simon snorts before biting back a smile. 

“Bloody hell. . . You want a sibling?”

Simon asks, kneeling down to be eye level with your excited daughter. She eagerly nods, shoving the paper into her dad’s hands which he takes, clearing his throat; preparing to read off every item.

“Let's see. Pony; not happening. Bluey car; might happen. Oranges? Why in the world do you want oranges?”

He lists off with a laugh upon reading ‘oranges’. Bellatrix has always liked oranges, and gets one in every lunch she takes to school. 

“I like oranges.”

Is all she says with her six-year old sass before Simon continues down the list with you peeking over his shoulder.

“Sibling, now that, that I can make that happen, but you'll have to talk to mom ‘bout that one.”

You feel your face heat up upon seeing him look up at you with a wolfish grin and wink. You shake your head before putting in your own input.

“Trixy, that's not quite how that works.”

You chuckle as you get down to her eye level with Simon, who's clearly biting back laughter.

“Why not?”

Your daughter asks, clearly confused on why you can't just get her a sibling. Seriously, don't they just kinda’. . . Appear? That's how it works to a six year old mind at least.

“Well. . . Think of It like making cookies. You have to make the dough, form the cookie dough, bake them, and then you have to wait for them to cool off.”

Bellatrix seems to understand that you can't just get a child from the multiple emotions running over her face. Then once you and Simon stand back up, Trixy speaks up.

“So how do we make one?”

She asks excitedly, earning a laugh from your husband who's laughing so hard he's got tears lining his eyes. You can't help but chuckle to yourself and rub the bridge of your nose. Simon walks away, little chuckles pushing past his lips.

“How about you think really hard about what you want, and we can come back to this later. Alright?”

You suggest with a smile as you guide her back to the table to write what she wants for Christmas, leaving the Amazon catalog you get each year next to her. 

You walk away and to your bedroom, chucking to yourself at the face Beatrix made when you and Simon laughed at question.

“How do we make one. . .”

You giggle to yourself as you walk inside your room, Simon sitting on your bed, scrolling on his phone.

“I can answer that, and I'd be more than happy to show you.”

Simon says from his spot on the bed, which you quickly shut down.

“You sure you don't wanna’ make Trixy a big sister?”

He asks after tackling, leaving you a giggling mess as you try to get him off. Eventually, Simon flips the two of you over, him laying on his back with his large calloused hands surprisingly gentle as they hold you in place. You're straddling him now with your softer hands pressed onto his sculpted chest.

“Would you look at that? We're already halfway there. Would be a shame if we wasted such an opportunity, no?”

He chuckles deeply as he massages your sides.

“I guess it would.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

A/N: so, I'm taking a shot at shorter fics and not forcing myself to make fics longer 🥲

Anyway, would You guys want a part 2 to this? Because I'd be more than happy to write one!

[daisymbin]

14. "oh, so now we’re holding hands?" With Wonwoo pls and female:)))

thank you for requesting! please let me know what you think about it 🥰

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

fluff prompt #14: "oh, so now we're holding hands?"

wonwoo didn’t know what he did wrong.

one moment, everything was fine. the next, you were cold, sharp replies replacing your usual warmth, and any attempt he made to talk to you was met with an annoyed glare. you weren’t outright ignoring him, but you might as well at this point.

so he did what any reasonable person would do: he followed you around and tried to make you laugh, even if it meant annoying you further. but no matter how much he teased or tried to catch your attention, you stayed firmly in your icy bubble, refusing to give him an inch.

after dinner with the rest of the boys, he thought you’d leave the moment the dishes were cleared. instead, you lingered in the living room, scrolling on your phone while pretending he wasn’t there.

thats when the idea came to him; he quickly pulled his phone out, texting jeonghan.

"let's watch a horror movie, im in the mood for it." jeonghan declared out loud. you didn’t object & wonwoo could only count that as a silent win.

wonwoo should feel bad, he really should, because he knows scary movies weren’t your thing, but he doesnt feel any remorse or guilt. so here you were, sitting stiffly on the couch beside him, your arms crossed, your gaze fixed stubbornly on the screen.

he tried not to smile, he really tried.

“you know, if you’re still mad at me, you can just say so,” he whispered as the opening credits rolled.

you didn’t even spare him a glance. “i’m not mad.”

“right,” he said, dragging out the word. “you’re just giving me the cold shoulder for fun.”

“wonwoo.” your tone was a warning, but it only made him grin wider.

“okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. but as the movie started and the eerie soundtrack filled the room, he couldn’t resist stealing glances at you, waiting for the moment you’d crack.

it didn’t take long.

the first jumpscare made you flinch. by the third, you were gripping the edge of the couch cushion so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

and then came the scene. the one with the flickering lights and the slow, suspenseful build-up that everyone knew would end in something terrible.

you tensed beside him, this is it, wonwoo thinks. your breath hitching as the music swelled. and just as the shadow moved on screen, you let out a startled yelp; one hand moving to grab at his biceps, hiding your face behind it and the other subconsciously intertwines with his fingers, clutching it tightly

he blinked, startled by the yelp you let out even though he expected it, and then, a slow, triumphant smile took over his face.

“oh?” his voice was soft, teasing. “so now we’re holding hands?”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide with realization. “i—i wasn’t—” you stammered, trying to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, keeping your fingers firmly intertwined with his.

“uh-uh,” he said, his tone light but his hold steady. “you can’t just grab my hand and then let go like that. that’s rude, you know.”

“wonwoo,” you said, your cheeks burning as you tried to tug your hand free again. “let go.”

“no,” he replied, his thumb brushing casually over your knuckles. “besides, you’re still scared, right? so what’s the harm in holding on a little longer?”

“i’m not scared,” you shot back, though the tremble in your voice betrayed you.

“sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “totally fearless. that’s why you’re clinging to me like your life depends on it.”

“i am not clinging,” you hissed, glaring at him even as your face grew hotter.

he chuckled, the sound low and warm, and leaned in just slightly. “you’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“i’m not flustered,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “and i’m still mad at you, by the way.” a small pout makes its way to your face.

“really?” he asked, his voice softening as he tilted his head. “because you’re not acting very mad right now.”

“i am,” you insisted, though your resolve was quickly crumbling under the weight of his teasing gaze and the warmth of his hand in yours.

“mhmm,” he hummed, his smile turning fond as he looked at you. “well, just so you know, i’m not letting go until you’re not mad anymore.”

your eyes darted to your joined hands, your heart racing as you registered the sincerity in his voice beneath the teasing.

“i’m not mad,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“oh?” he said, his grin widening. “so does that mean you’re holding my hand because you want to now?”

"I'm not holding your hand, you're holding mine!" you argued, your cheeks burning as you tried to pull away one last time.

but wonwoo didn’t budge. instead, he laced his fingers fully with yours, his grip firm but gentle.

“you should know,” he said softly, his teasing edge fading as he looked at you, “if you hold my hand so tight like this, i’m never letting go.”

your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling into the space between you like a promise.

[ghostaholics]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn!reader (aside from a single idiom whose origin uses masculine language/pronouns - every man for himself) ➸ SUMMARY: Against all odds, the Lieutenant accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder. Unfortunately, there are witnesses to the precarious situation (just your luck that it would be Gaz and Soap). ➸ WORD COUNT: 2k

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄: don't poke the bear.

Danger in your line of work typically consists of trying to walk away from a mission while still being left completely intact (i.e. the goal is to make it out alive, in one piece). You’ve survived a great number of ordeals: cornered into a shootout with a dwindling supply of ammo, tiptoed your way through a field of pressure-sensitive IEDs, dove towards probable death (with an awfully high probability of splattering onto hot, concrete hell like a bug on a windshield) because your helo was sent tail spinning courtesy of a perfectly-aimed RPG – and really, the list goes on.

It's been child’s play, in the grand scheme of things. An extensive catalogue of life-or-death scenarios accounts for your entire military career. And sure, this might be a bit of a stretch, but you'd wager that none of those instances thus far have been as high-stakes as the current predicament you’ve found yourself in.

Jesus-fucking-Christ. Why’d Ghost have to fall asleep on you?

𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: avoid sitting next to him on the plane ride home. You've had to learn it the hard way.

And the kicker is that this whole thing could’ve been avoided; it didn’t have to be your problem. You could’ve sentenced any one of the other soldiers to your seat. Every man for himself, right? Get off scot-free, have a normal trip back to base with plenty of legroom so that you’re not cramped. Theoretically, it would've been beautiful – a passenger's paradise, the closest you could get to a first-class ticket.

But no.

Instead, play the Good Samaritan; extend your hand out with an act of benevolence. What’s the harm, right? So, you'd spared the poor guy, said you wouldn't mind switching places with him because he'd looked as white as a damn sheet at the idea of being crammed beside this behemoth of a lieutenant who's infamously every FNG's living nightmare.

Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20. Had you known what was going to happen, you would've had no reservations about throwing him under the bus. Sayonara, mate.

Law of the jungle, plain and simple.

To make matters worse, he is, in fact, exhibiting terrible flight etiquette. His head (which is dead weight and feels about as pleasant as a fucking bowling ball, mind you) has taken up every inch of real estate on your shoulder and is practically tucked into the curve of your neck; you’ll need to take a trip to the chiropractor’s after this – several, probably. The edge of his skull mask is digging into you. And, the cherry on top: get this – he’s man-spreading, so his left leg's trespassing into your own territory and brushing against your thigh. Utter lack of regard for personal space.

Incredible.

You’d still rather die than wake him up, though. You're not sure what'll happen if you do, but that's a risk you're not willing to take.

All things considered, an achy shoulder is a much better alternative than incurring the wrath of one angry Lieutenant. He's more subdued in this kind of context. To be completely honest, if you weren't already well-acquainted with him, you'd find it endearing.

From here, it's easy to see the simple rise and fall of his chest, steady and even. Slow inhale in, slow exhale out. He's at peace, a rhythmic lull that matches your own breathing. You can't quite put your finger on the exact moment he fell asleep. (He's got a habit of shutting his eyes and folding his arms over his chest when he isn't in the mood to converse with the other soldiers onboard. But God willing, he would never voluntarily loll his head onto your shoulder.) For what it's worth, he deserves the rest – never been one to do it this soundly as countless missions have taught you that he's usually a light sleeper. You remember him roughly prodding the toe of his boot at Soap's arm once when the Scot was conked out and his snores were a bit loud for Ghost's taste.

Rather odd then, that the Lieutenant even managed to allow himself to doze off like this. It’s too loud, too unsteady – the droning of the plane engine doesn't exactly make for good white noise and the turbulence outside is jostling the cabin around. Moreover, this puts him in a position of vulnerability, and he’s not the type to let his guard down so easily.

But somehow he did it with you beside him.

You try not to think about the implications of that.

𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.

Because, Soap's just woken up from his nap, the first among the entire company of soldiers in the cabin still sleeping, excluding yourself. His seat's parallel to yours, straight across the walkway within direct line of sight, so he’s got an unobstructed view of you and Ghost. Soap sends a questioning glance in your direction, eyebrow quirked. A look that says, The hell's going on?

The level of your voice is down; it's at a conservative decibel to avoid rousing the others. Yet you convey your distress with the same amount of passion as if you were stuck in the middle of a losing firefight. "MacTavish, help."

Soap works with bombs for a living. Surely, he's capable of defusing situations too.

Alright the man’s a demolitions expert, but that’s semantics.

He blinks like he's trying to make sense of the situation. Though, it's pretty obvious what the problem is here. You're not sure why he’s got to take a moment and contemplate it. You need a solution, now. And he's moving at a snail's pace.

For a second, you think he might sympathize with your plight.

But then his mouth morphs into a shit-eating grin and when he nudges Gaz awake, you know right then and there that you're absolutely fucked.

More witnesses.

Great.

Because that’s just what you need, isn’t it?

Gaz drags a hand down his face. He pans over to his right to figure out why he’s been jolted awake so suddenly, and sees Soap who’s inexplicably, nauseatingly jovial before his eyes land on you.

Much like Soap’s original reaction, Gaz can’t help but offer a quizzical expression. The confusion is evident. His brows are drawn together because he knows that the L.t. wouldn't fall asleep on your shoulder.

Soap's shifting, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. He messes with it – a few taps here, a few swipes there. And then before you're registering what's happening, he's aiming it straight at you, like one of those mums getting a snapshot of their kids in matching jumpers during the holidays.

"Say cheese."

An indignant gasp leaves your mouth. "If you so much as—

"Soap, no. Don't do that." Gaz says from beside him, plucking the phone out of his hands. He tsks him with a click of his tongue. Stern disapproval in spades. The meaning is clear: it’s a big thumbs down from the Brit. He’s not endorsing this type of behavior. “Gone mad now, have you?” he asks in admonishment.

You release a sigh of relief. Finally, some moral support. He's reliable. Your faith in him is unshakable. Always could count on Gaz to get you out of—

"Have to shoot with a wide angle, see? Or else it'll look wonky," he corrects, flipping the phone horizontally before handing it back to Soap.

"Aye, thanks mate.”

Gaz's smile isn't as excessive as Soap's but the smirk gracing his face tells you he's relishing in your misery all the same.

Fucking traitor.

"Knobheads—"

They’d risk their own hides to save you from certain death. You've seen it in Cairo, Valencia, and Seoul. Good men. Good hearts in the right place as well. However, they're also the type to embarrass you at every opportunity – public humiliation being somewhere on that roster as well. And for that, you want to strangle them.

"Rude,” Soap comments pointedly.

"Bite me, MacTavish."

"Just wake him up if it's bothering you," Gaz supplies unhelpfully.

"If you were in my shoes, would you do it?"

"'Course, not," he snorts. "I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I also prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much," you whisper furiously, nearly hissing at him.

And Soap is admiring his handiwork, when he coos, “Aw, the two o' you make quite the pair." He briefly twists the screen so that you can catch a glimpse of it, and even from this distance, you can confirm that he's captured the shot. Annoyingly well, to add insult to injury. Angle? Spot-on. Lighting? Brilliant. It's interesting, has character. Black and white photography. He's managed to make a stunning composition and your upper lip is curling up into a sneer of disgust at his artistic eye. How infuriating.

"I'll send this to the Cap. He’ll get a kick outta it."

"Sod off."

"He'll appreciate bein' included."

Gaz matches the energy with an equally gleeful smile, now delighted by the idea. “Hey, and the L.t. he looks—”

“—cute," Soap has the audacity to finish for him.

What.

There are many words that you’d use to describe Ghost.

Cutthroat, maybe. Imposing. Glacial. Taciturn. A stringent set of ideals that makes him the perfect soldier: disciplined, honed, fierce. Intimidating, if he's not fighting on your side – someone you'd much rather have on your team than against, unless you fancied death. He can be a stone-cold terror on occasion. The man’s been penned as a walking horror story by those in the military. Given his iron-hearted demeanor, you'd be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement; there's not much room to call his steel-encased resolve into question.

So, yeah. Above all else, he's certainly not cute.

Your eyes narrow at them. "Congratulations, the both of you have officially made the top of my shitlist."

Soap, indifferent to your crisis, asks, "Want a copy for your wallpaper?"

There's another heated remark waiting on the tip of your tongue, because there's no way in hell that you would and you're ready to tell him off, about to give him an earful.

But somebody else beats you to it.

“Wipe that picture, or I’ll wring your bloody necks.”

Ice surges through your veins. Goosebumps break out across your skin. Because that voice belongs to one person. Oh, Christ. Never in a million years would you want to be on the receiving end of it.

There's anxiety warping in your chest. You're scared stiff, paralyzed with fear in a way that implores you to remain stock-still. The coarse fabric of your trousers bunches underneath your palms as you try not to freak out. This isn't your fault. None of it is.

And here's the worst part: Ghost hasn't lifted his head from your shoulder yet.

But Soap's unfazed. He blinks a couple of times, seems like he's weighing his options – as if there's something else he could choose besides following his lieutenant's command – yeah, right. He wises up, settling for a simple answer in the end. "Alright, Ghost." His smile makes a reappearance, sweet and well-meaning. Troublemaker. "Any chance you'd like a copy before I do away with it?"

"What kind of fuckin' question is that, Johnny?" he grumbles. "Obviously."

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:

"I take it you don't think I'm cute then. Have I got that right?"

"I'm sorry... mind repeating that again, sir?"

"You didn't have anything to say about Soap's comment."

"I have a feeling that whatever I answer will get my arse handed to me, L.t."

He's smiling in response – like sunshine trapped behind clouds. Despite it being obscured by the mask, you can see his eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes the black charcoal that's lining them begin to crease a bit. "Permission to speak freely, Sergeant. You have the floor."

Your mouth parts in surprise. Well, then. Maybe you stand corrected. And so, you appraise him momentarily, giving it some serious thought. There's more to Ghost than you give him credit for. He's terse and rough around the edges, but respected for a reason. Admirable. Someone you think highly of and has deserved your approval. The mask undeniably provides an air of intrigue. “I suppose you can be,” you start off, gradually warming up to him being more approachable. “When you’re not terrorizing the new recruits, that is.”

[moonstruckme]

Could I request more soft dom Remus!! Maybe reader forgets to take care of her self because she is too caught up in her work and Remus loving sets her straight and just takes care of her🙏🏻 you are lovely my dear❤️❤️

Thanks for requesting!

cw: implied d/s dynamics, migraine

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

The couch springs groan beside you. You reach blindly for the tea Remus has brought you, eyes still on your laptop. 

“Look here, dove.” 

Your head turns before your mind has caught up to it, one hand still typing out the end of a word. Remus is scrutinizing you, your tea held firmly in his grasp. 

“Close your laptop.” 

“What? Why?” 

Remus gives you a look. “Weren’t you just telling me your head is hurting?” 

You chew the inside of your lip, but stand your ground. “Yeah.” 

“The laptop’s not helping with that, darling.” 

“Finishing my report will.” 

“You’re not finishing anytime soon, and the light’s not good for you.” 

He reaches for your laptop, and you draw it closer to you protectively. “It’ll be bad for me whenever I do it, so I may as well finish tonight.” 

“Enough.” Remus’ voice firms up. “Close it.” 

You scowl but do, saying a silent prayer that you remember all you’d wanted to say when you pick it back up again. Remus takes your laptop, moving it out of reach before he finally passes you your tea. The steam feels nice, and though you’d rather die than admit it you can feel the muscles in your face relax almost immediately. You blow on it gently.

A hand on your leg makes you look up at your boyfriend. Remus’ expression has gentled, a softer brand of concern in his eyes where they meet yours. 

“You wanna come here?” he asks. 

He helps you find your way into his lap, one of your thighs on either side of his. He draws slow, soothing strokes up your sides. One hand finds your face, thumb dimpling your lip. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, not without humor. “I know you wanted to keep working, but your body was tired of it.” Remus moves his thumb to kiss you, soft and lingering. “You’re your own worst enemy when you get like this, dove.” 

Your sullen mood gives way easily under the weight of his devotion. “I’m sorry,” you sigh. 

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to take better care of yourself.” He studies your face. “Have you had painkillers?” 

“No.” 

A wry smile. “How did I already know you were going to say that?” 

Remus reaches into his pocket, pulling out a couple of pills he no doubt fetched while the kettle was boiling. He passes them to you, watches as you down them with your tea. 

You watch him back as you swallow, feeling shyer than you did a minute ago. “Thanks, Rem.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He smooths a piece of hair away from your eye. His thumb lands on your temple, beginning to drill small circles. 

If your enthrallment with his touch weren’t enough, the skill with which Remus does the motion would be. It’s hypnotic. Your eyes fall closed, head listing forward. Remus chuckles and encourages it the rest of the way with his other hand on the back of your neck, letting you rest on his shoulder. How could anyone say that soulmates don’t exist, when the curve of his neck seems so perfectly fitted to your face? 

“You’re going to let me look after you now?” he asks warmly. 

You manage a feeble hum of assent. 

Remus is massaging your head with both hands now, deft fingers smoothing over your scalp and working their way gradually towards the tensed muscles of your neck. “Good girl.” Your body goes warm and loose at the praise. Your forehead rests heavily upon Remus’ shoulder. 

His quiet voice takes on an amused hue as he asks, “And what are you going to do the next time your head starts to hurt while you’re working?” 

You whine. “Remus.” 

“I just need to hear it from you once, dove.” 

You sigh. You think for a second that you might just pretend to fall asleep to avoid saying it, but the pressure of Remus’ fingers lessen until they’re barely there at all. He’s waiting for you.

“It starts with a b,” he hints. 

You’re glad he can’t see you scowling into his shoulder. “I’ll take a break.” 

“There we go.” Remus’ fingers resume their work, and you can feel the chuckle brewing in his chest as he turns his head to kiss your temple. “I know we’ll do better next time, won’t we?”

[buntanteen]

svt fic recs list <3 - lee jihoon/woozi b'day edition - sfw & nsfw ver.

summary: 28 days of sfw & nsfw jihoon reader insert fics for woozi's birthday

contains: 18+ nsfw (mdni!!) majority is afab reader, mostly sub!jihoon

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

✩ sfw ✩

❥ woozi bf headcanon samples - @wooahaee

this makes me just feel so happy and giddy and helps calm me down to go to sleep. the tid bits of what he might be like as a bf is making me crazy *rams head into wall*

❥ princess treatment - @emocheol

i just wanna give him so much love and care. hoonie really deserves the love he receives and so much more

❥ crushing!jihoon - @emotionalsupport-ljh

oh he's SHYYYYYYYYYY (me acting like i'm not shy too jfgkbd) and a bit patheticccc (perfect for me heheh😘) i'm kicking my feet and giggling this is so cuteee HE'S SO CUTEEEEE

❥ pouty - @qmrzi

omg pls give this baby attention, i will sob if he doesn't get it😭 baby was just excited to show his hairrr (also, bro looks SOOOOO fucking good blonde dfjkbd)

❥ the seventeen members as boyfriends - @catboyieejeno

woozi's section gimme gimme all of it thank you~ the quality time?? the massages?? the gym pump omg kvhfbk

❥ jihoon & hand-holding - @ylangelegy

and if i sob?? jihoon wanting to express love outside of songs kjfdb the triple touch to signal "i love you"??? as someone who can't always verbally say what i want to say, i love this 🥺

❥ seventeen when you reject their kiss (as a prank) - @emocheol

jihoon's section is just so *sobs* HE'S SO LIL AND CUTE I WILL GIVE U ALL THE KISSES U WANT

❥ shadow - @babyleostuff

i just know hoonie would drop everything to comfort someone he loves and i hope he has people that do the same :3

❥ 16:33 - @fairyhaos

YOU'RE SO REAL HE IS SO SO PRETTTY

❥ all the ways jihoon kisses you - @wifeyoozi

(putting it in sfw cuz the nsfw is minimal) THIS IS SO CUTE AND SWEET 🥹 JIHOON KISSES GIMMEEE

❥ simp jihoon (texts) - @wooziorgans

I'M CACKLING HE'S SO???!?!

✩ nsfw ✩

❥ lazy morning sex - @sluttywoozi

OH THE PICS YOU USED KDFJGBFDKG oh the vibes in the fic are just *chef's kiss* it is just jkbgdk kjgbkdfb fdkjgbdkfgbdk bgbdfkjgb ya know?

❥ sub!jihoon - @hannieehaee

going slightly insane over praising pretty jihoon and marking him up and him getting flustered and insane over praise d hfhdhdbdb obssessed. u threw so much of what i want to do to woozi into this fic i'm really going through it rn i cannot handle the lack of sanity rn

❥ under the neon lights - @dirtysvthoughts

OH THE IMAGES IN MY HEAD AHHH. lemme "celebrate" his birthday with him PLS PLS PLS. fuck this fic is so hooootttttt

❥ sub!woozi - @hanniehae

FUCKKK i wanna praise him sooooooooo bad and see him flush all red from compliments. does he even know how pretty he is?? (editing this fic rec and i didn't realise that i had literally recommended it 2x dfkjgbk IGNORE THAT)

❥ OT 13 : edging vs overstimulation - @svtswhorehouse

jihoon's section...ah fuck, him being a wildcard. overstimulating or edging depending on his mood. i cannootttt

❥ simp!jihoon - @boofeine

(op's account got suspended so the fic isn't available :/) if i died after woozi saying babygirl....hahahhaha no i didn't??

❥ simp!woozi - @hannieehaee

dear lord he's so down bad and so horny and so needyyyy

❥ dishes - @wooziorgans

it started off so sweet and then.... if i moaned??? THAT'S BETWEEN ME AND THE FIC

❥ things you do that make svt bust quick - @pochaccoups

jihoon's section....dear lord i have a thing for his longer hair and it is so well shown in this vkjfbkjb

❥ slow motion - @cherriegyuu

OHOHOHOHO FRIENDS TO LOVERS HEHEHE. the tension building is just so goooood. the proximity pushing it to the edge? i love itt

❥ riding needy jihoon - @boofeine

(op's account got suspended so the fic isn't available :/) needy??? jihooon? *screechesss* OH THIS IS TOO MUCHHH

❥ loser!woozi - @hannieehaee

confident!reader with loser!jihoon?? sign me up

❥ boyfriend!woozi headcanons (sfw + nsfw) - @wifeyoozi

oh dear, he sounds perfect for meeeeee. being too shy for pda but clingy in private??? YEET ME!! god of music and god at making you cum- *gets dragged away* HE'S JUST SO LOVINGGG

❥ lee jihoon as your producer - @woozivrsefactry

oh dear...he's so whippppeedddd~ AND FUCK THEY'RE BOTH SO PEVERTED?!!?

❥ next stop till nirvana - @wifeyoozi

ffs the images this writing casted in my head is INSANE. he's look SOOO pretty overstimulated

❥ sub!jihoon x sub!reader - @hannieehaee

he's insane for reader and i'm insane for him jkgfbdk cockwarming to fucking hoonie in his studio PLS SEDATE MEEE

❥ no song without you - @hannieehaee

genuinely just obsessed with how jihoon is characterised in this fic?? the tension between reader and him is insane!! the concept for their song is something i would love to see jihoon in too. him being lowkey pathetic and inexperienced makes my brain go brrrr skjfdgbdk he's so down bad for reader and i am down bad for him djfkgfbd this is the fic that made me start reading more woozi fics haha

ames' song recs: q&a (ft. ailee) by seventeen, ruby by woozi, chemistry by kiss of life & boyfriend by yeonjun

ames note: sorry for dropping off of tumblr for a bit haha. i got overwhelmed from posting. LMAO THE WAY I ONLY HAVE LIKE A FEW SFW FIC RECS I'M SORRY Y'ALL JKBVFKJ can you tell i like subby jihoon... kfjbd and i love jihoon so so much?? anywaysss, everyone enjoyyyy~ wooahaeee ς(.>‿<)