#maybe one day I’ll polish this a bit more

[redtailfins]

I finished this at like 3am on the 14th so I guess that makes this my valentine’s day piece. gay failure sweep

jared the consumer belongs to @/acidrefluxwarrior

[neatfrog]

love when people in my life think of me whenever they need language interpreting/translating and are like “hey do you speak [x] language?” and 90% of the time I do not know that particular language but I’m still very flattered they considered me

[anatee]

A sweet way to go | Anakin x Reader Smut 18+

A sweet way to go | Anakin Skywalker x Reader Smut. 18+. MINORS DNI.

Content: Anakin x Female!Padawan!reader, L/C is lighstaber colour, like two curse words, smut: piv (unprotected), risky, in water at that?

Word count: 6.9K

The sun was beginning to set over the Jedi temple as Y/N was walking through its quiet corridors, heading for dinner. There was nothing unusual about her day as Yoda's Padawan, well, until she heard a familiar voice from one of the rooms.

Anakin Skywalker. Her friend of almost five years, a fellow Padawan, and a handsome guy at that, one of the best views you could stumble upon at the temple. She peeked into the room and was surprised to find Anakin standing there on the polished floor, speaking to a group of twenty-something younglings who were listening to him intently.

Y/N smiled to herself as she crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, wishing to watch this for a little longer. It was nice to see Anakin like this, in a bit of a different role, smiling and laughing with the kids, still as goofy as he always was, but at the same time he had this aura of a responsible, skilled master around him, one that only made him that much more attractive. His longish hair and open robe were simply a cherry on top, probably her favourite parts of his appearance that day... And every other.

The Force quickly alerted Anakin that a familiar soul was nearby, and it wasn't long before he spotted Y/N in the door and smirked at her immediately.

"Seems like we have an observer," he said loudly, making all the younglings turn to her. "How long have you been there?"

"Oh, sorry, professor." She laughed. "Maybe I wanted to join the class, huh?" she added in a playful tone, making him chuckle.

Anakin simply could not stop himself. "Really? Don't tell me you finally decided to learn how to hold a lightsaber properly?" 

She opened her mouth in disbelief as she heard that, then walked up to him to smack him on the arm.

"Don't do that, kids," she said quickly as some younglings reacted with laughter.

"You heard her, kids." Anakin grinned. "Do not smack each other, even if you're messing around." He shot Y/N a knowing look, a clear sign he said that not for the kids, but just to mess with her.

She leaned in a little to whisper into his ear. "I'll strangle you once they're gone."

Anakin gave her a sly smile. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Y/N."

There was something in the way he said it that made a shiver run down her spine. She wasn't sure what, but he just did something to her - however, she had to compose herself quickly.

"Oh? Wanna bet?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"You're on." He sniggered, then cleared his throat and turned to the younglings, speaking loudly. "Now, as I was saying before we got so rudely interrupted," he shot her a quick look, "there are many stances that can help you in a fight. Some are meant to help you keep balance, some are meant to defend you from being disarmed. Like this one."

Anakin demonstrated the stance, his moves sharp and precise, his muscles flexing as he did, and Y/N watched him just as carefully as the younglings did, if not more. When she caught herself doing that, she immediately shook her head.

"Oh, no, kids, he's doing it wrong. Let me show you."

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Anakin raised an eyebrow, smiling cheekily.

"Why don't we show the kids the moves in action?" She crossed her arms on her chest, and the kids immediately started whispering amongst each other in excitement.

"Are you suggesting a duel?"

Y/N shrugged. "Just to show the kids what to do." She turned to the younglings. "Do you want to see?"

Cheers erupted among the younglings. They were more than eager to see two experienced Padawans demonstrate a duel for them, and some of them were already trying to predict a winner.

"Alright then. Let's do it," Anakin said to Y/N's delight - she knew he would never give up on a challenge, especially if he got to show off.

She removed her lightsaber from the belt around her waist and ignited it. The L/C glow painted her face as she held the weapon in front of herself.

"Don't worry, kids." She smiled at them sincerely, then turned to Anakin with a smirk. "Your professor will be unscathed."

Anakin smirked right back at her, igniting his own lightsaber and getting into position, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's not me I would be worried about."

They both forgot about the younglings as they started to duel. Neither of them really intended to hurt the other, but that did not mean there wasn't anything interesting to watch. The kids gasped and sometimes even yelled in awe as two Padawans wielded their weapons, blocking each other with precision, avoiding blows of their opponents with swift movements. At first it was hard to tell who had the upper hand; they were both skilled, and even though Anakin had the advantage of being taller and just bigger in general, Y/N was smaller and could move a bit quicker. The kids were cheering on them both, reacting almost to every move.

However, Anakin's strength - or maybe his smug smile that distracted her greatly - was what gave him the advantage. He disarmed Y/N, and the younglings gasped collectively as her lightsaber rolled over the polished floor. Anakin smirked as she stood in front of him, defenseless, and pointed his weapon at her heart.

"Do you yield, Padawan?" he asked, as cocky as one can be. Y/N already knew she wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Fuck you," she mouthed so the younglings would not hear it, but her words were clear enough to him, causing him to chuckle.

"Is that all you got?" he whispered, then spoke louder. "Do you yield?" He kept his lightsaber pointed at her, trying not to laugh.

She let out a defeated sigh, then put her hands up.

"Okay, okay, I give up." She sighed again and Anakin lowered his lightsaber and turned it off, smiling as though he was the king of the world. 

"Sometimes, children, even if you really don't want to... You have to admit defeat," she added towards the kids.

"And this is how we disarm opponents, younglings." Anakin smirked, then bowed in front of the kids dramatically, for what they gave him a round of applause. Y/N rolled her eyes, then used the Force to pull her lightsaber back to herself.

"These poor kids having to put up with you..." she said to him quietly, shaking her head as the younglings kept on clapping.

"Oh, they love me," he replied proudly. "Right kids? Is my class fun?"

The kids erupted in cheers, making Y/N sigh again as she knew Anakin was loving every second of it.

"Sure..."

"You're just jealous because I'm a better teacher. I understand." He put a hand on her shoulder in mock comfort. "Not everyone can be as great as I am."

For that, Anakin got himself another smack on his arm.

"Hey!" He laughed. "Just because I can take it doesn't mean you should keep doing it!"

Despite his words, he did not stop smiling for a second, and the younglings were starting to giggle, too. "Kids, don't do it unless you wanna get punished."

"And how are you going to punish me, huh?" Y/N whispered. "Put me in the corner?"

It was almost as if a fire glazed over Anakin's eyes as he smirked and replied quietly:

"You'd be surprised."

She swallowed. He did something to her again, it was clear by the tingling sensation overcoming her body. The feeling was so overwhelming she wondered if he could sense it through the Force.

"Well, this will be all for today, younglings." Anakin turned to the kids. "I hope you enjoyed the class and my victory. Now off to dinner!"

The moment the kids started filing out, Y/N smacked him on the arm again.

"Hey!" He looked offended and amused at the same time. "Now you're just being mean."

She shrugged, smirking. "Someone has to keep you in check, Skywalker."

He bit his lip. "Maybe I like you keeping me in check?"

She wondered if he saw the effect these words had on her, as she had to swallow to compose herself. Heat was beginning to spread onto her 

cheeks anyway, making it all harder to reply.

"Cheeky bastard," she hissed. "You should be glad there's someone willing to sacrifice themselves for the job."

Anakin just grinned at her. "What are you up to now?"

She shrugged. "Dinner, I guess."

"Oh, right. It's that hour... I'll go with you then." He walked up to the door and bowed slightly. "Ladies first," he said just to tease her, and it worked.

She snorted as she walked out of the room. "Not you pretending to be a gentleman after literally pointing your lightsaber at my throat."

Anakin seemed completely unbothered at that. He chuckled as he followed her out of the room and then walked beside her through the corridor.

"Oh, excuse me, missy," he tried to poke her in the ribs, but she jumped to the side quickly, "but I believe it's you who suggested that duel."

"Just for the kids!" She laughed, but then got a bit more serious. "But in all seriousness, Anakin, I admire your work. These kids seemed to really like you. I would never take you for a teacher, but it seems like you're doing a good job."

"Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot. I really try to make it work for them, you know?

After dinner, which was not lacking constant banter, they both headed to their respective quarters with smiles on their faces.

Y/N began her next day at dawn. Master Yoda always strongly recommended meditation, especially after experiencing strong emotions, and she definitely had a hard time forgetting what Anakin made her feel the day before. On one hand, they teased each other like always, but on the other, she felt there was something else, something that never occurred to her before.

The meditation room was empty at that time of the day, allowing her to bathe in the morning sun. She sat crossed-legs in front of the large windows, allowing the rays to hug her body with pleasant warmth. She wasn't wearing her usual Jedi robe, just a white, tight tunic, allowing her to move swiftly.

The quietness of the empty room really helped her focus on her breathing, on communicating with the Force. With her eyes closed, she allowed herself to give into the meditation completely, taking slow, deep breaths. Peace was overcoming her entirely for quite some time, until...

The Force told her someone was there, in the room, somewhere behind her. A very familiar presence, one she knew so well she had no problem in sensing who it was. There went her efforts...

She smiled to herself, not opening her eyes. "Hmm... I'm sensing an idiot."

A familiar chuckle echoed in the spacious room. Anakin could not help himself; he also sensed her presence there while walking by the room and he didn't intend on losing the opportunity to tease her. The thing was, she was even faster to do it than him, and that may have been one of his favourite things about her. 

"Is that so?" he replied innocently, slowly approaching her from behind. "And where is he?"

She smirked as the sound of his voice confirmed what the Force already told her. "There he is."

"Oh, so I'm an idiot?" he teased as he stood right behind her, close enough for his robes to brush against her back. It did cause some tingling in her, a pleasant sensation one could crave.

"Yeah, but I kind of like that," she admitted before she could even realise how it might have sounded. Anakin struck right back.

He smirked. "Lucky me. So are you into idiots?"

That question sent a shot of adrenaline through her entire body, one that made her quiver slightly. It was flat out flirting, no one could deny that, and it was the last thing she was supposed to be doing, the very thing she tried to protect herself from by meditation. Yet there he was, Anakin Skywalker, the very menace she could not refuse.

"Why, are you applying for the position of my crush or something?" she bit back, her tone playful, but there was some nervousness in the back of her head, even though she knew he would take it as a joke.

Her eyes were still closed, but she could sense him walk to stand in front of her, some of his body blocking the sunlight.

"Do I even need to apply? I'd say I win the auditions without doing that."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me I'm wrong." He grinned. "I have many admirers, but..."

"Many admirers?" She smirked, keeping her eyes closed, which made it so much easier not to get charmed by his smile. "Are we talking about these younglings? Aged eight or something?”

"Oh, just admit that you're jealous, Y/N."

She took a moment before responding. Maybe she was. Maybe just a tiny bit. She knew he had admirers and at the same time, she could not blame them, he was very easy to be smitten with. But that definitely wasn't something she was going to admit.

She snorted. "I am very much unbothered, thank you very much." 

"Mhm..."

She knew he was not buying it, but it was all a part of their little game they both absolutely adored.

"You really want me not to focus here. And here I thought I could meditate today." She shook her head, still keeping her eyes closed.

"Oh, am I distracting you?"

This was an understatement.

He stood directly in front of her, blocking the sunlight, then squatted so their faces were at the same level. 

"Why don't you open your eyes for me?" he asked, smirking, almost as if he knew she could see his face through the Force.

"Because I don't want to get out of my meditation state."

"Oh, so if you saw me, you wouldn't be able to concentrate, huh? Can't blame you, I am quite charming after all..."

She sighed, feeling the cockiness radiate off him. "Does your ego still fit this temple or should we build it an extra room?"

He sniggered. "I'd say it's big, but it's for a reason. I am pretty awesome, after all."

"Oh? And what else is big about you, Skywalker?"

Risky. This question was risky, but she couldn't help herself. The urge to flirt with him was strong, and the fact that her eyes were still closed gave her more courage.

Anakin did feel the atmosphere in the room change slightly when she said that, but he did nothing to release the constantly growing tension between them - on the contrary, he was enjoying it. 

She could not see him, but she knew there was a smug smile on his face in that very moment. 

"My lightsaber is quite big."

Y/N coughed, trying not to look for any deeper meaning. "Is that so?"

"How long are you going to just sit there pretending you do not want to see me?"

She sighed again, refusing to open her eyes. "Obi-Wan must be a saint for putting up with you."

"Oh, come on." Anakin rolled his eyes. "Obi-Wan would be the last person to call a saint. He is very patient, but do not give him that much credit." He chuckled.

"But if he has you as his Padawan, he must be doing some sort of penance."

Through the Force she could see that Anakin rolled his eyes once more, making her snigger. He didn't reply, taking a moment to look over her body, enjoying how the tunic hugged her curves; it wasn't often he saw her without the robe, which hid all the best parts. He couldn't help but wonder what that tunic was covering, too.

"Does your silence mean I win?" She teased after a moment. "Can I continue my meditation in peace?"

He let out a sigh, one she did not quite like. "You really want me gone, huh?"

That was, of course, not the case, even if her meditation was ruined.

"You are welcome to join me," she said quickly, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You know I'm not the best at being silent," he said eventually with a small, somehow nervous laugh. "But if I can do it with you, I'm willing to try. Will you teach me?"

Finally, for the first time, Y/N smiled genuinely and opened her eyes. There he was, attractive as always, a meter in front of her, giving her a smile that could melt hearts.

"There we go. These beautiful eyes of yours." He beamed, and she swallowed quickly, so he wouldn't see the effect these words had on her.

"I think you could do with some meditation." She chuckled. "Sit in front of me then."

He obeyed eagerly and settled himself on the floor right in front of her, cross-legged. She didn't even think of telling him he should keep some distance; he sat as close as he could to her, their knees touching. She did not comment on that, but her body did react, sending a heatwave through her as the Force whirling in that small space between them seemed to be almost vibrating. These were definitely not good conditions for meditation.

She put her hands on his shoulders, almost absent-mindedly. "Sit up straight. Relax your shoulders a little."

He obeyed, and she could see he was truly listening. At that moment, it was difficult to stop herself from touching him just once more. Although it was unnecessary, she grabbed his wrists delicately and guided his hands onto his knees.

"Keep your hands here," she said softly, glancing at his face to look for any indication that he might have not liked the touch, but the smile on his face couldn't be missed. "And close your eyes." She brought her hands to his face as if to demonstrate, and that was quite the intimate touch. Anakin must have noticed that, too.

"Are you sure you need to do that? I can close them myself, you know."

A blush creeped onto her cheeks. She got lost for a moment there, she really did, but how could she not?

"Oh, sorry for trying to help you, Skywalker," she retorted to save herself. He smiled, and that was the last thing she saw before closing her eyes again, but that view stayed etched into her mind.

"Okay... And what now?"

"You breathe. You reach out. Nothing exists but you and the Force. I'm not here, the room is not here, the temple is not here... Deep, nice breaths."

"Alright," Anakin replied, genuinely wanting to listen to her advice. He was usually too reckless, too hotheaded for something like meditation, however, he was willing to learn - especially if it meant spending some time with her, one on one.

"Is there anything else I should do?"

"No blabbering." She chuckled. "Just focus on your breathing."

And so he did, trying to listen to her advice, truly enjoying that moment. However, it was hard to feel completely at peace when she was this close, their knees still touching, and the Force screaming at him that she was there. Her presence was soothing and exciting at the same time, making him feel things he knew the Jedi Council would not approve of. Fortunately, there was no Jedi Council in that room, nobody to judge his feelings... Unless Y/N sensed them.

It felt somehow intimate. Sitting there with her in complete peace and silence, breathing, the Force whirling around them, the rays of sunlight hugging their bodies... No words were spoken, but an invisible bond seemed to be forming between them, and Y/N noticed it too.

Anakin could not help it. Focus was never his strong suit, especially in her presence, and so he opened his eyes to look at her, enjoying her face from up close. She didn't seem to sense that and kept sitting there with nothing but peace on her face.

She really looked beautiful. Her face was relaxed completely, and he could see each and every detail of it like never before. He did miss her eyes - they were much prettier when open - but there was something else he could focus on, and that were her lips. Rosy, innocent, and just so kissable, although Anakin should not even think about it.

And yet he did.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," he said quietly, his tone warm, lacking any playfulness. He was sincere, there was no doubt about it.

Y/N was caught off guard so much she opened her eyes immediately. Anakin's voice was quiet, but in that vast, empty room, even the smallest whisper was noticeable. Her heart started pounding against her chest as she found his face much closer than before.

"Oh?" was all she could say as he looked at her, a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. "Do you... Really think so?" she asked, as she had to be sure.

"I have always thought so," he admitted loud and clear.

Anakin's voice echoed against the walls. Once it was gone, the room went dangerously quiet; the only sound they could hear was Y/N's heavy breathing. What was she supposed to do now, when he was staring at her lips, giving her a clear idea of what he wanted to do? The Force was pulling her towards him, not away.

Anakin couldn't stop himself. He's never been this close with her, and, as if it wasn't enough - alone. Her lips were irresistible, and so was the Force pulling him towards her. He felt dryness in his mouth he didn't expect to feel at that moment. It seemed ages before he even moved, but when he did, everything happened quickly. He leaned in even closer, a bare inch from her lips, and her heart began speeding up; it was the last thing she expected him to do. She could hear that pounding and became a bit scared of how close they were, yet did nothing to distance herself. It was a decision he made in a split second - before he could change his mind, before he could lose the courage, and before he could hear his Jedi conscience - he kissed her. 

It was a short kiss, but full of so many emotions they had been both suppressing for a long time, emotions that finally reached its destination. For a moment, they were both overwhelmed by happiness, until the guilt started to kick in, and they pulled away reluctantly, as if someone was trying to disconnect two magnets constantly searching for the other.

For a moment, they both just stared at each other. Y/N's cheeks were flushed; she wondered if he could see that, but was that really what she should be worried about? They were breaking the Jedi Code they both swore to obey; that kiss confirmed to them they were both already attached to each other.

The silence seemed to be endless, before Y/N cleared her throat and finally spoke, trying to articulate any comprehensive noise in the state of complete shock.

"Anakin... I..."

"I know. We should not have." Her voice seemed to wake him up, as he let out a disappointed sigh. "But I can't help the way I feel. I listened to the Force."

She swallowed and looked down. "I did, too."

The silence devoured them after that. They were both conflicted, feeling guilty and euphoric at the same time. How were they supposed to ignore the pounding of their hearts, the only thing they could hear at that moment?

"We have to forget about this," she said finally, knowing this was the only reasonable option. But were they reasonable at all...?

"I know." He swallowed. "But... I don't think that will be possible."

Their eyes met again, and Y/N could not think about anything else other than how much she wanted to kiss him again, more confidently this time, to let herself notice the details the first kiss was too shocking to allow her to register... But she could not, just like him, as he almost had to use the Force itself to stop himself from leaning in again.

"I'm sensing Obi-Wan." Anakin sighed. "He's somewhere near. I'd better... I'd better go."

"Yeah..."

Neither of them wanted to part, but they knew that physical separation might have been the only answer to restrain their desires at that moment. They had to stop before they would do something they would regret.

The problem was, they did not regret that kiss.

Three long days passed without them seeing each other as Anakin was assigned some minor missions, but he didn't stop thinking about that kiss even for a second. Even Obi-Wan pointed out his Padawan seemed a bit less focused, but Skywalker quickly dismissed it. However, the tension between him and Y/N was more present than ever, even stronger than before that kiss.  Now that he knew she was just as drawn to him as he was to her, keeping himself in check was agonising.

Y/N could barely handle her thoughts, too. That's what led her to the Jedi baths that one evening; she knew no one usually used them very late, and now, more than ever, she needed the hot water to relax her muscles - and maybe her emotions, too.

The baths were completely quiet that night. The air was humid and warm from the hot water kept in big pools, making it a bit harder to breathe once you entered. Spacious room dimly lit by a small light source in the corner enveloped anyone there in a calm, cosy atmosphere. 

Y/N stood at the edge of the pool in just her robe and untied it, then let it fall to the floor. Completely naked, she slowly submerged herself in the hot water, allowing it to hug her muscle by muscle, until it covered her up to her collarbone. She sat there and took a deep breath, allowing the sweetly-scented foam to stick to her skin.

Every time she closed her eyes, her mind took her back to that moment. The kiss that made her body feel as though it was on fire, the kiss that she craved to experience at least once more. Would that be such a sin? To enjoy this rush of dopamine once more, the intimacy the Jedi were deprived of?

The silence of the room was only disturbed by the soft splashing sound every time she moved. She kept her eyes closed, breathing in and out steadily as if meditating, trying to trust the Force and wherever it was leading her thoughts to.

Her eyes flew open when both the Force, and the sound of the door opening alerted her that someone was near. She looked towards the entrance, and her eyes quickly confirmed what her heart already knew; it was him.

"Anakin?" she said in surprise, her voice echoing against the walls.

Seeing him now made her whole body tense despite the relaxing water. Thoughts of how to react or what to say flooded her mind completely; how were they supposed to act now? Like nothing happened?

"Hey, Y/N," he replied in such a tone that made her decide to play it cool. Act like nothing happened. Forget. That was what they were supposed to do, right?

She watched him come out of the darkness as he approached her; he was wearing just a robe and had a towel on his shoulder. He was there just for a bath, she told herself, although her heart made her think otherwise. She decided to do what she was best at - tease him, just to release a little of that tension.

"How come the baths are always empty... And when I decided to come, you're suddenly here too?" 

Anakin chuckled softly. "I'd say the Force led me here."

He kept his eyes on her. They wandered to her shoulders and collarbone, his mind racing as it imagined what could be hidden below, underneath the foam. To say she looked beautiful to him was, no doubt, an understatement. Anakin wondered how much longer he could keep himself in control of his emotions, getting hot under the collar.

"How fortunate you can always say it's the Force," she teased, surprised how easy it was to do that despite the elephant in the room.

"I am a lucky guy, huh?" He smirked, then walked to the side of the pool, keeping a small distance from where she was sitting. "So... Can I join you?

Y/N swallowed hard. She did not know how to imagine both of them being in one room, so close to each other, naked. At the same time, she knew she would be a fool to say no. He was absolutely irresistible, especially while smiling like he was at the moment.

"Be my guest."

He gave her another small smile, then put his towel on the floor. His hands were just about to start untying his robe when his eyes locked with hers.

"I have to take my clothes off."

She chuckled. "Yes, that's how bathing usually works."

Anakin shook his head in disbelief. "When did you get this feisty, love?"

A shiver went through her entire body when he called her that, but she didn't let him see it. Instead, she bit back again.

"I was always like that, Ani. Maybe you need to be a bit more perceptive."

"Oh, I will be perceptive, trust me."

She cleared her throat as he noticed Anakin's eyes wander to where her chest was raising under the foam as her breathing became heavier.

"I will look away." She turned her head to the side. "You can take off that robe comfortably."

Anakin did not comment on that, for he could not find a good answer. On one hand, he was thankful, on the other... Would he really mind if she looked?

"Right then..."

Anakin began slowly untying his robe as Y/N did everything in her mind not to look. But with the corner of her eye, she could see just a bit of that toned, perfect body she had dreamed of; Maker, if she could just...

Completely naked, he stood there for a moment, as if pondering what to do now. Eventually, he slowly lowered himself into the bath, a safe distance of around a meter away from her.

She looked up finally. The foam was covering him up to his nipples, but it still left uncovered enough of his body for her to stare at. She tried to remain composure, but with every passing moment it was beginning harder and harder to ignore how attractive she found him.

Y/N wondered what to say in order to make the situation a bit less tense. She coughed loudly, then took a deep breath.

"Well... How did your latest missions go? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Anakin seemed surprised by the question, but he quickly recovered.

"No, just some usual escorts. Everything went smoothly."

"Good to hear."

The conversation was extremely awkward, and Anakin had enough of it even after just these few words. He decided to cut to the chase.

"And I've been thinking about you all the time."

She took a deep breath. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, as she had been nothing but thinking about him, too, yet him saying it out loud made her heart race, just as much as his earlier appearance.

"Y/N, tell me... Do you regret what happened?" 

Anakin asked directly.

"Of course I don't," she blurted out, "I... I only wish we could do it again. But I know we shouldn't."

"We shouldn't, yes, I know that, too." He swallowed, then looked her up and down. "But I can't control myself right now, Y/N. Not when we're here like this and you..." His eyes focused on where the foam began covering her body as he let his imagination run wild again. "You look breathtaking."

"Anakin..."

She only heard water splashing as he moved closer to her. They both almost shivered as their naked arms touched, and so did more of their bodies underneath the water. It could be lethal, that touch, more dangerous than any weapon in this galaxy.

"Why can't we do it again? Would this be such a crime?"

He leaned in just a little, yet enough to make her feel hotter, and it had nothing to do with the water. Force was whirling around them again, seemingly pushing them towards each other, yet Y/N tried to resist... One last time.

"Our Masters would not like that," she whispered in such a tone that let Anakin know she already made up her mind... To his benefit.

"Yes, they wouldn't," he said quietly, cupping her face with his hand and caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. He looked into her eyes, both affection and desire glowing in his own ss he asked:

"But would you?"

Only a soft sigh managed to escape her lips before Anakin captured them with his own. There it was, the dream, the trance, the absolute bliss of kissing him again. It could have been real fire flowing through her veins when her hands wandered to his hair, tugging on it desperately in an attempt to bring him even closer. She could die right there and then, fulfilled.

The baths, the temple, the whole galaxy seemed to be fading away as Anakin's other hand landed on her back. His fingers caressed her bare skin with undeniable need, exploring mindlessly as his head was clouded with the taste of her lips, soft, sweet, irresistible.

The idea of getting caught didn't even cross Anakin's mind at that moment. His focus was on her and only on her, on that body he was ready to worship.

They pulled away after what seemed like an eternity, but still stayed close, their foreheads leaning against each other.

"I want you," Anakin whispered, his hand moving from her cheek to her nape almost possesively. "I want you so bad, Y/N."

These words were enough to make her forget any doubts she might have had about this, as they could have got caught... But did anything really matter then? Anything other than Anakin, his smile, his large hands on her body, his eyes piercing through her?

"I want you too," she whispered back, and soon found herself pressed against the edge of the pool as Anakin's lips met with hers again.

He kept one hand on her nape as he allowed the other to wander, giving her goosebumps as he went. Eventually, he began massaging her thigh underneath the water, slowly but surely moving towards her abdomen.

Lips were not enough for Anakin at that moment. Drunk on desire, he began planting kissing down her jaw, then slowly reached her neck, allowing himself to taste it in ways more than one. The moment he decided to go for just a soft bite, the quietest of moans escaped her lips, echoing loudly in the empty room along with the splashing of the water.

"I could listen to this all night," he whispered, hot breath blowing against her neck and adding to the sensation.

"What if someone hears?" she said in a rush as she caught herself willing to give him many more sounds to enjoy.

"Then they will meet with my lightsaber..." he replied as his kiss became more and more feverish, and she could not even find the strength to argue, dizzy with the pleasure all of this was bringing her.

Slowly but surely, with endless enthusiasm, he began planting passionate kisses down her collarbone. He wanted to go even further, but the foam stopped him.

"Can I?" he rasped out, breathless from the constant kisses.

"Yes," she panted.

Having receieved the permission, Anakin grabbed her by the hips and lifted her slightly in the pool, uncovering her breasts. He took a moment to take in the sight, one that made his heart pound even faster. She expected to feel shy, but for some reason, she did not - she wanted him to see all of this.

He began kissing her further down, his hands on her hips to keep her steady. But he couldn't forget about the view, about the curves he had just uncovered, and let himself lose control. His mouth found one of her nipples, and he licked it just barely in order to see her reaction.

She gasped, a shiver going down her spine. "Anakin..."

"You liked it?"

"Yes..."

"Then I won't stop." He smirked, as he gave her one more lick, one that made him feel drunk. "You're addicting."

His mouth took care of her first nipple, then the other, pulling a few moans out of her as they hardened. She put her hands on the edge of the bath to keep herself steady as his lips and tongue worked wonders on the sensitive body. She craved him, all of him, and just his mouth was beginning to not be enough.

He felt her hips buckle under his hands, so he took that as a clear sign she wanted to go further just as much as he did. He stopped kissing her, gave one last glance at the closed door that could be opened at any time, then decided to fuck it again.

"I want to take you, right now," he whispered into her ear, sending fire through her body.

"Then do that," she rasped in response, almost 

taking him by surprise at how eager she sounded.

He sat down, then pulled her onto his lap in the water, the splashing sounds mixing with their panting. She ran her hands down his chest, slowly, as if trying to remember each and every muscle she only could look at before...

And then her hands reached between his legs, this time getting a groan out of him. Their eyes locked and they kissed hungrily once more, before Y/N positioned herself... And slowly took him in, all of him, her clit throbbing.

The new sensation made them both pull away to gasp for air. She needed a moment to adjust to his size, then steadied herself by grabbing his shoulders.

"They would kill us for this," she breathed out eventually, thinking how there was no escape now... No turning back.

"But what a sweet way to go," he whispered, his smirk sending a wave of excitement through her. She was ready for whatever he had in store for her.

His hands were back on her hips, digging into them to keep her in place.

"I've never wanted anything else more," he said huskily, leaning his forehead against hers. "You... I want you, Y/N."

"It doesn't get any closer to having me, Anakin," she replied quickly, giving him a clear sign that now they could both move.

And so he did, slowly at first, before they both found their pace. Splashing of the water echoed against the room as they moved against each other. Anakin seemed to get off on the ability to fill her up completely, pushing his hips as far into her as he could. And it seemed to do the trick, pulling a moan after moan out of her while his mouth went back to her neck.

The amount of sensations was overwhelming for her; his hands strong on her hips, his teeth just barely grazing the tender skin on her neck, him dragging his cock with all the force he could master, all of their breathing and water splashing echoing in her head... And, as if that were not enough, there was the constant rush of adrenaline coming with the thought that they might get caught at any given moment. She knew he could send her over the edge easily...

"You feel... So good..." she moaned out, rocking her hips to meet his. She threw her head back, allowing him more access to her neck as he continued the absolute mania of licking, sucking and biting.

Suddenly, she heard him let out a loud groan, the grip on her hips loosening when he moved them down to grab her butt. 

"I'm..." was the only thing he managed to get out before two powerful pumps that felt like tearing her apart, and soon, he filled her to the brim, breathing heavily in pleasure.

Anakin did not even cool down before his hand wandered under the water, straight to her clit, and he began rubbing it quickly just to bring her to the edge that much faster. A gasp, a moan, and a few rocks later her nails left trails of red on his back when her walls clenched around his cock.

She cried out in pleasure as the orgasm rocked through her, allowing her to experience emotions she never even thought possible. They both stopped moving, and she fell onto his shoulder, trying to catch a breath while the last moments of bliss faded away.

How could feeling so good be such a sin...?

"Well, now... Now I'm definitely not forgetting about this," Anakin admitted, planting the softest of smooches on her head, so different from the hungry kisses that now marked her body. "But I'm afraid Obi-Wan might sense my thoughts about this from a mile away."

She laughed to herself, then raised her head to give him one last longing kiss on the lips.

"Well, how did you say it... What a sweet way to go."

[kysslasher]

KINKTOBER DAY 1:: scream— gojo satoru

WARNING:: ghostface!Gojo x fem!reader, choking, blowjob, facial, unprotected sex, taking pictures.

SUMMARY:: Halloween night alone can be scary, but when a phone call comes in on your land line, you can feel the chills in your bones when a raspy voice on the other line meets your ears.

When your parents tasked you to stay home and watch the house you were fine with that, deciding that a Friday the 13th marathon would be a good way to settle. Although it might sound miserable staying home on Halloween but you just couldn't muster up the energy to get sloshed at a random house party dressed up in a costume you had bought at party city.

A fresh bowl of popcorn sits in your lap the smell of butter wafts through the air as the warmth of the bowl against your bare legs, your eyes latch onto the screen as the opening scene starts your brought out of your daze as the old landline your dad refuses to get taken out rings on the wall. The bright cherry red phone illuminating under the TV's glare.

Putting the bowl down on the cushion beside you, you walk over to the phone holding the cold plastic to your hear. "Hello?" your voice the first to speak as your finger absentmindedly began to twirl around the long curly cord on the end of the phone. "Hello?" The voice eerily crackles through the other side. "Who is this?" You ask politely, the off putting tone the voice on the other end makes your face slightly scrunch.

"I think I called the wrong number" he says making you perk up a bit. "oh! was there someone you were looking for that might live here?" you respond as you walk over to your couch grabbing the remote pausing it. "no" he says flatly making you smile.

“well have a good night” you slightly pull the phone away from your ear hanging up the phone before returning to your movie, the phone rings again before you can even unpause it. Picking it up again “hello?” You say picking at nail polish that seemed to have gotten on your skin around your nail. “I must’ve dialed the wrong number” the man on the other line says making your face scrunch with a slight smile.

“So why’d you redial and call again?” You ask, you’ve never had anyone call you twice by mistake. “To apologize” he says his voice becoming softer yet not losing the edge it has. “Your forgiven bye now” you barely pull the phone away before he demands attention once more “what?” You ask your voice filled with amusement; maybe it’s one of those frat pledges calling around, yet you entertain him anyways.

“I wanna talk to you for a second” he replied making you scoff a bit. “They have hotlines for that, see ya” you hang up the phone and start up the movie once more, you get up from the couch walking to the kitchen and opening the large cabinet deciding to make a bowl of popcorn you heat up the bag as you hear the slight sizzle and popping, your phone rings again before once more making you scoff again.

Picking up the phone again “why don’t you want to talk to me?” He asks making you shake your head “who is this?” You ask as you walk around the kitchen island back to the popcorn sizzling away in the microwave. “You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine” he says his voice dripping with amusement as if it were some kind of game. “I don’t think so” you say as you watch the bag grow bigger and the muffled sound of popping fights your attention.

“What’s that noise?” He says making you laugh a bit “it’s popcorn” you say excitedly, your house is empty and you know that you’re supposed to be looking out for any of your sisters coming back drunk and helping them to bed but it wasn’t that late yet. “You’re making popcorn? I only make popcorn when I’m watching movies” he says you grin “well I was just starting movie, but I want to eat something while I watch it” you say opening the microwave and shaking the bag.

“Oh really? What?” He sounded more excited at the mention of a movie “oh just a scary movie” you say absentmindedly as you move over to the stool at the island your hands reach to toy with the handles of the knife block. “You like scary movies?” He asks making you shake your head “yeah” you caved, you’d entertain him “what’s your favorite scary movie?” His voice coming out very ominous.

“Well I don’t know…” you trail off trying to think before he cute through your thoughts “you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?” He asks making you smile “um…Halloween” you smile at your answer. “The one with the guy in the white mask, he goes around town stalking babysitters” you say as you pull one of the knife handles from the wooden block watching it glimmer under the kitchen light. “What’s yours?” You ask as you walk around your small kitchen “guess” he says amused by your answer making you hum as you think “nightmare on elm street?” You walk through the halls of your sorority.

“The one where the guy has knives for fingers?” He asks making you chuckle at his response “yeah Freddy Kruger” you respond as you walk past the back patio door locking it. “That movie was scary” he drawls out making you hum “the first one was but the rest sucked” you say as you continue your mindless trudging through the grand halls decorated in pictures of classes and sisters who stayed before.

“So..you got a boyfriend?” He asks and in return gets a small giggle out of you “why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” You ask as you make it back to the living room “maybe, do you have a boyfriend?” He says as you sit down on your couch rewinding the movie just a bit. “No.” You respond and realize this really was getting entertaining. “You never told me your name” he says as you turn down the tv a bit you watch from where you last watched. “Why do you want to know my name?” You ask as you keep your eyes on the screen seeing the little girl tucked in her bed as the killer stood above her.

“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at” he says sending a chill right through you, a beat of silence follows through before you shakily answered “what did you say?” You look at the windows and doors around you cautiously, almost jumping out of your skin at the sound of a dog near by barking “I want to know who I’m talking to” he says as if he repeated what he said before making your face scrunch. “That’s not what you said” you shake your head standing up from the couch heading to your back door with a clear view. “What do you think I said?” He asks yet you don’t answer looking out of the large glass door into your backyard “what?” He asks as your met with the emptiness of your pool and a small table with chairs.

“Hello?” He asks making you snap out of your frightened haze “look…I need to go” you say turning on the light to your backyard. “Wait- I thought we were gonna go out” he says with a faux hint of desperation in his tone. “No…I don’t think so” you pipe up locking the door content with the full clicking sound to solidify your safety. “Don’t hang up on me” he says more aggressive. You do anyways, you’ve never been the kind of girl to be frightened into doing something you don’t want to.

Stomping off back into the kitchen forgetting all about your popcorn that seems to have doubled in size for how long you’ve kept it in the microwave, you make a round the house making it to the next door before another chilling ring of your phone cuts through the silence of your dinning room. You pick up feeling more annoyed now “yes?” Your voice more loud “I told you not to hang up on me” his voice more ominous now. “What do you want?” You ask your voice filled with disapproval. “I just wanna talk to you” he says as if he’s teasing you.

“Well they have numbers for that” you almost hesitate to pull the phone away from your ear, this time you put your phone on speaker, pulling it away from your face shooting a text to one of your sisters asking if she’d be back soon, but no reply. “They do, but I just wanna hear your voice” he says his voice becoming more steady and less agitated. But once you finish locking all the doors and make it back to the living room the channel has changed to the news.

You watch in curiosity as the woman with grown hair and a blue pantsuit begins to speak, you turn up the volume for a moment. “Reporting live at local college jujutsu tech university where it seems another local serology sister has fallen to her death. Detectives say that her phone fell along with her and the last thing she had done was picked up a call from a random number before falling to her death, though there will be more updates from the lead detective tomorrow morning” the woman says making your heart fall to your ass you turn the TV off.

“you hear that?” He pipes up his voice had a vile hint of amusement in it “it was you?” Your voice shakes. “If you don’t want to end up like that poor girl your going to do something for me” he says “she didn’t have a chance like you but I’m feeling generous tonight” he says you can hear him shuffling around his voice becoming more husky. “What?” You ask you can feel the bile in your stomach ready to crawl up the back of your throat yet you fight it seeing as you want to survive.

“We’re gonna play a game of hot and cold” he says making you feel a sheer shock rock your body. “You’re inside” you say not questioning it for a second you know he is. “Well aren’t you smart” he says and you can tell he’s smiling on the other line somewhere in your house. You roll your eyes as you stand from the couch and head straight to the kitchen stopping the microwave before looking at the knife block to see the once filled block had none in them. “You’re cold. But you also didn’t think I would have an advantage did you?” He asks mocking you as you stare at the empty block. “Fuck you” you spat at him as you continue through the house and up to the next floor. “You’re getting warm” he says as if he’s excited making you shake your head as you slowly walk through the halls.

The many doors that lead to your sister’s room you head farther down the halls “warmer” he trails off making you perk up as you realize where he is. “I know where you’re at” you say sternly. Making him chuckle lowly “nice pink panties…I didn’t take you for the lace and bows kind of girl” his words cut through you like a knife. “You’re a perv” you say as you stomp towards your bedroom swiftly opening the door.

You’re met with an empty room making you feel sick, sweat gathered at the edge of your eyebrow as you look around. “Don’t be shy, it’s your bedroom after all” he says making you frown as you step inside, the pink carpet under your feet making you sigh of relief. “Take a look around, see if you can find me” his voice almost taunting you now. “I did what you asked- I figured out where you were why can’t you just leave?” You ask your voice coming out in a higher pitch, you know he’s in there and it worries you that you won’t make it out alive. “Come on pretty, you know I can’t let you off the hook that easy, now look.” He demands making you shut your eyes real tight before caving and doing what he says.

Walking towards your bed you bend down feeling your skirt ride up a big; lifting the sheets that drape over your frame you quickly look under it to be met with darkness, nothing. “Come on now, you gotta be smarter than that” he replied. You know for sure he’s watching now and the only place he could be hiding is one of the two closets in your shared bedroom. You move over to the closet pulling it open, and yet again…nothing. “Oh you are so hot, I think you know where to look next” he says as you turn around slowly, looking at your roommates side of the room her closet light flickering on making you gasp.

The shadow of a pair of shoes makes your heart race, you walk slowly, “warmer” he says he was teasing you so much it made you want to cry like a kid again. “Warmer” he’d say once more; and as you finally make it to the door the cold metal of the doorknob makes you shiver as you slowly twist it; the door swings open making you quickly fall back tripping over your own feet in fear. A burly tall figure walks out the closet.

You drag yourself away standing up you push yourself against your wall. The mask covering his face was ghostly, the black gaping eyes and mouth as if eternally screaming, your eyes widen as he walks towards you. Your hands shaking and your body is in shock as if refusing to move, you hated yourself for not running. “Red hot” the voice pipes muffled but matching the one of the man on your phone.

He presses against you, a shinning glimmer catches the corner of your eye making you look down seeing a knife that curved slightly at the tip; it presses to your naked leg making you gasp, looking at the masked man. Your arms press against the wall showing him that you don’t plan to touch him, your hands ball into fists your mouth hangs open slightly your breathing heavy, you shut eyes tightly tensing up against wall waiting the sharp dull pain of his knife to hit you but it never does; instead you feel a gloved hand touch your face making you jump as you open your eyes your eyebrows bunch together, his fingers brushed a few stray hair on your face away tucking them behind your ear.

Confusion flashes through your eyes before you brought out of your thought by his voice. “Let’s play another game hm?” He lifts the knife waving it threateningly making you press yourself against the wall harder as if you would suddenly be able to phase through out and escape. “It called Simon says, except you just do whatever I say” he says his voice was filled with delight, it was almost as if he was getting off to the sight of you frightened and wide eyes.

You nod not putting in trust into your voice knowing it would come out cracking and garbled. “Take off your shirt” he says pulling away slightly, the warmth of his body getting lost almost makes you upset. You push off the wall your face not hiding its disgust. “Oh come on pretty, I’ve been toying with you all night, tell me you don’t feel the sexual tension” he sounded overbearing, his mere presence overwhelmed you.

“I’ve already saw your panties sweetheart, no need to be shy” he laughs as the moonlight pours through the window a glimpse of his blue eyes shows through the black fabric covering his eyes, they twinkled different shades of blue, and glimmer of lust. Your arms reach the hem of your shirt slowly pulling it up over your head and tossing it on the bed. You hang your head in embarrassment, your arms cover your chest as your skin feels as if it’s on fire.

The gloved hand reaches for your chin gripping it tight within his grasp to make you look at him. You are the cutest little thing” he says matter of factly as he turns your head side to side “I just want to ruin your pretty face” he says deeply making your stomach churn “please don’t kill me” you whisper “I promise I’ll do what you want and I won’t complain I swear” your lip quivers. “Poor thing, I’m not going to kill you; you’re too pretty for that” he mumbled back as his thumb pressed against your bottom lip. “Get on your knees” he says his blue eyes clashing with yours making your stomach flip.

Slowly but surely you get on your knees, looking up at him as your eyelashes slightly block your view. “Show me how much you want to live” he says making you realize what he truly wants making a smirk grow on your lips. “For a killer you really are a perv” you say under your breath shaking your head, you pull the black robe up over his belt buckle before he holds it up for you, you remove his belt before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

Then you saw it. The bulge ticking out through his boxers you pull his boxers and pants down in one swoop he was big, and thick making your mouth almost water at the sight. Taking him in your palm you felt him twitch within your grasp. “Go on, show me” his condescending tone makes you look up at him with a glare “don’t rush me” you gripe before flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip— he let out a rich moan that ended with a groan "shit". His head was thrown back as breathing becomes labored.

You let his tip fall past your lips you swirl your tongue around him as you slowly push yourself down farther until he reached the back of your throat making your eyes water. Tears fall past your waterline as you let your moans mix with his with the incessant sounds of gargling and wet sounds ring out. His free hand reaches the back of your head resting there as you pick up speed, spit drips down your chin, you look up at him with wet eyelashes.

“Fuck, that’s it pretty” he groans as his hand grips your hair tight keeping you still as he thrusts into your throat like your his own personal toy, you grip his thighs as you fight the urge to gag, he pulls out with a wet pop making you cough as your eyes turn red fighting more tears you gasp. “You can keep going right? I mean after all you want to show me how much you want to live” he says his hand leaving your head to jerk himself off; he rubs the tip against your plump lips before laughs.

“Your makeup is getting messed up baby, but it’s okay; after all I just wanna ruin you” his words made you feel lightheaded, the ache in your panties as they stick to you makes you shift. You nod your head humming pressing your head to his thigh “please let me make you cum” you whisper almost coming out as a moan. “Fuck” he groans you can’t see through the mouth of his mask but you can only assume he’s butting his lip from how disgruntled he sounds.

You press a kiss to the small mole on his hip before fisting around him perfectly, the wet sound of his cock makes you moan, gripping him tighter he thrusts into you “fuck- put it in your mouth” he whispered; and you do immediately taking him in your throat, you could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes were closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him.

He began to pull out slowly, just enough to keep his head inside before pushing back in. A groan escaped his throat at how good it felt “that’s it baby, there you go” he moaned more desperate as if he could cum at any moment. The feeling of you moaning around him makes him groan louder his hips continue to thrust into you.

His thighs quivered as his shaky as a moan as his hand presses against against the wall, his muffled moans make your thighs squish together. His forehead presses against the wall. The wet sounds falling past your lips as strings of saliva attach to his cock and down your chin, you couldn’t think of anything as his breathing turned into panting “you’re gonna make me cum” groaned it was on the borderline of a whimper, he pulls out swiftly jerking himself off again you watch with wide eyes opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue as the stringy white ropes of his cum splash your tongue and cheek making you squeal.

“Fuck” he huffs out as he throbs. “I’m not done yet” he chokes out as he watches you collect his cum on your finger with a smirk on your lips you suck it off with a wet pop, he bunches your hair up pulling you to your feet, “no I need you to take your clothes off and get on the bed” he demands pushing you towards the bed. You unclip your bra and strip down to nothing as you watch him do the same. Bending over the bed you can feel a breeze wash over you.

The feeling of his big rough palms on your hips he uses his knee to spread your legs wider. You feel his thumb press against your pussy swirling around your wetness making your thighs quiver in response to the feeling, you can hear him laughing through his mask, though you say nothing as he presses your upper back deeper into an arch your face presses into the blanket that you grip in your fist. “Gonna make you cum on my cock alright pretty” his voice sounded so lustful your head was spinning as you moaned in response.

The feeling of him pressing into you made you hold back a scream that was desperate to rip through your throat at how deep he was and how full you felt. His pace rough and slow, the sound of your bed frame clashing against the wall as the sharp sound of skin on skin fills the room, his rough groans turns you on too much not to moan in response.

His hips change the angle hitting a spot that makes you reach back for his wrist only for him to grab your arm and pressing it to your lower back he picks up pace throwing his knife completely discarding it he reaches over your hand intertwining his hand with yours you press your face to the sheets to hide your moans but he doesn’t let that slide at all. Pulling out he pulls your back to his chest “don’t hide from me pretty, go ahead and ride me, I wanna see you on top of me” he says his breath is heavy.

“fuck- yes” you moaned looking over your shoulder you press a kiss to the mask regardless of if he could kiss you or not; you didn’t care all you wanted was for him to fuck you. He pulls away sitting on the bed, now getting the view you missed his pale skin warm to the touch, the happy trail of white hair below his abs making you bite your lip eyeing him as if you were just presented a feast you straddle him, trying to find the same angle his hips were at you sink down on him making the both of you moan, you grind your hips against him as you begin to set the pace your face presses into the crook of his neck as you bounce on his cock at an unmatched pace.

His hands hold the back of your thighs giving you leverage “god you’re so tight” he whispers into your ear as you rake your fingers against the skin of his back, your moans become louder. “Harder” he demands as his hand sharply smacks you on the ass making you cry out at the stinging feeling you go harder, pulling back from his neck your eyes roll back as you press your forehead to the mask “you’re gonna make me cum” you whimper needing something to push you over the edge.

His hips meet yours matching your pace his hand falls between your thighs his thumb presses against your clit as you roll your hips into him, the white creamy strings that stick to both of your thighs and a ring around the base of his cock makes you dizzy, the tight feeling in your stomach becoming tighter your moans bounce off the walls as his arms wrap around your waist tightly he thrusts are harsh bouncing you in his lap; your head falls back as the euphoric feeling washes over you he slams into you for a final time as warmth cascades over you the feeling of him cumming inside you his thrusts come to a stop.

You both sit in silence coming down from your high your body’s covered in a sleek sheen of sweat you peel yourself back from him you pull his mask off tossing it to the side before coloring your lips with his. Your tongues clashing, sucking and licking at each other needy enough to keep going until your lungs is begging for air you pull back nipping at his lips you smile.

“You asshole, I’m on sister duty tonight” you shove his shoulder and satoru just grins “you deserve to have fun too tonight” he shrugs as he chases your lips “if I get in trouble because of this I promise you I will get even” you replied pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Now get out before someone comes back and catches us” you mumbled as he slowly pulled out.

“Oh please, it’s Halloween night they won’t be back until 4AM” he replies shaking his head.

[creamflix]

ryomen sukuna x gn/m/f reader; established relationship, fluff !!, painting his nails <3 – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

it’s one of those rare afternoons where sukuna’s not wreaking havoc or tormenting anyone. instead, he’s lying back on your couch, his head resting lazily against the cushions, legs spread in that annoyingly arrogant way that screams king of curses. but today? today, he’s just your sukuna.

you sit cross-legged on his lap, holding his massive hand in yours, trying to focus on the nail polish brush. you picked a dark plum color—something that might not make him roll his eyes too hard—but you secretly wanted to pick a bright pink. maybe next time.

“hold still,” you murmur, dipping the tiny brush into the bottle.

he huffs, amused. “you really think this is necessary?” his deep voice rumbles, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“absolutely,” you reply, not even looking up at him, too focused on getting the first coat just right. “besides, it’s not like you had anything else planned for today.”

he lets out a low chuckle, his chest vibrating under you. “you’re lucky i’m bored, little one.”

you bite back a smile, brushing the color onto his thumbnail carefully. “and you’re lucky i’m so good at this.”

“tch,” he scoffs, though there’s no bite in it. his crimson eyes are watching you closely, studying the way your brows furrow in concentration, how your tongue pokes out a little when you’re trying to perfect the edges of his nail.

his fingers twitch ever so slightly as you work on the next one. you shoot him a look, raising an eyebrow. “if you keep moving, i’m gonna mess up, and then i’ll have to start over.”

“maybe that’s the point,” he teases, his smirk widening just enough to show a hint of his sharp teeth.

you narrow your eyes at him, feigning annoyance. “don’t test me.”

he chuckles again but settles down, letting you continue your work. as you paint, the atmosphere between you is comfortable, surprisingly domestic. the way his hand feels in yours—so much larger and rougher, but oddly gentle right now—makes your heart swell.

halfway through the second hand, he speaks again, voice quieter this time. “you enjoy this, don’t you?”

“painting your nails?” you glance up, meeting his gaze, and there’s something soft in his eyes, something that makes your breath hitch for a second. “yeah, i guess i do.”

“why?” he asks, and it’s not mocking, just curious.

you pause, brushing the last bit of polish onto his pinky nail before setting the bottle down. you think for a moment, then shrug. “because it’s… different. it’s peaceful. plus,” you add with a grin, “you look really cute with painted nails.”

he snorts, though his eyes gleam with amusement. “cute, huh? you're trying to ruin my reputation?”

“maybe,” you tease back, grabbing the topcoat to seal in your hard work. “but let’s be real, who’s gonna say anything to you about it?”

his grin sharpens at that, but there’s something softer beneath it now. “they’d be smart not to.”

as you finish up, you hold his hand up for inspection, turning it this way and that. the dark plum color looks surprisingly good against his skin, and the sight of his nails—painted and shiny—brings a strange warmth to your chest.

“there,” you say softly, smiling up at him. “what do you think?”

he looks at his hand, turning it over slowly like he’s really inspecting it. for a moment, you think he might make a snarky comment, but instead, he just hums. “not bad. could’ve been worse.”

“wow, high praise,” you laugh, setting the polish aside and grabbing his other hand to let it dry properly. you blow on his fingers gently, watching as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“you’re really into this, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice still low, but now it’s tinged with something softer, more amused than before.

“maybe,” you admit, still blowing lightly on his nails. “it’s not every day i get to paint sukuna’s nails, you know?”

“don’t get used to it,” he warns, but there’s no real edge to his voice. in fact, he looks… relaxed. like he’s enjoying this quiet moment with you as much as you are.

you grin, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his knuckles, your lips brushing over the tattoos there. “too late. i’m already used to it.”

he watches you for a beat, and though his usual smirk is still there, it’s softer, more content. “you’re something else.”

“i know,” you reply cheekily, setting his hand down gently on the armrest so the polish can finish drying. “but i’m your something else.”

“that you are,” he mutters under his breath, barely audible, but you hear it. and for a moment, the king of curses looks almost… peaceful, his sharp edges softened by the quiet warmth between you.

as you lean back against his chest, feeling his strong arms wrap loosely around your waist, you can’t help but smile to yourself. this might not be the life anyone expected for sukuna—domestic, soft, even a little silly—but it’s yours. and it’s perfect.

“next time,” you say with a smirk of your own, tilting your head to look up at him, “i’m thinking pink.”

he groans, rolling his eyes, but the small, affectionate squeeze he gives your waist says everything he won’t. “don’t push your luck.”

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[rosewaterandivy]

answer July— ah, said July—

summary: from Summersong Request-athon, inspired by "July, July!" as requested by marvelous Meg aka @courtingchaos 💜 || The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.

Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.

w.c.: 4700

pairing: e.m. x f!reader

themes: prosaic summer feels, the ephemeral nature of time, processing trauma, mention of previous bodily harm & its aftermath, insecurities and the like, body worship

a/n: long time, no see my fellow fiends. did i let this run away from me? maybe. do i care? not a wit! thanks for tagging along with the team, aka let eddie have a nice, normal summer for once - hope you enjoy! title from "Answer July" by Emily Dickinson.

Summer slipped by syrupy slow, lingering around the edges. All honey-coated and sweet, so much so in fact, that it struck one Eddie Munson as rather strange.

Granted, his spring had been touch and go what with being the town pariah and nearly bleeding his ever-loving guts out in the Upside Down and all. So maybe a slow uneventful summer was well-warranted after all of that.

May sprinted past with its final school bells ringing and a quick dash across the stage at graduation to snatch a diploma from Higgins before the school board could think better of it. He hastily threw together a quick campaign to welcome Will Byers back to town and only somewhat regretfully passed the mantle of Hellfire over to Henderson.

He got himself a job, nothing to write home about, but certainly something to pass the time and get him out of the house. Wayne insisted Eddie didn’t need to work and Eddie said the same for him, the never-ending cycle rearing its head once more.

The government hush money was, after all, nothing if not generous.

Still, he felt ill at ease in the new house. Liable to crawl out of his skin at times.

Besides, if it weren’t for the job, he’d have never set his sorry sights on the newbie behind the counter at the soda fountain.

Yes, of fucking course Hawkins, Indiana had an old-fashioned soda shop pharmacy combo.

Which did nothing to help his sweet tooth.

So, on the days he happened to close the record store, Eddie would peer across the street searching for a familiar head of hair, usually swept up onto a bun or ponytail by day’s end, and a smile that could melt the cockles of his cold, black heart.

The bell chimed as you rung up a sale for a customer at the register, the cash drawer grazing a bit of skin at your hip as you turned.

“Be with you in a sec!”

Eddie settled himself on a well-worn stool and drummed his fingers along the polished counter. He watched as you counted change for one of the old biddies who all but forced casserole down the throats of the Munson men after he’d been discharged from the hospital.

She thanks you and shoves a dollar in the tip jar as she makes to leave.

“Looking lovely as ever Pearl,” A low familiar voice says.

“Oh, you sweet talker,” The older woman swats at Munson still perched on his stool. She tsks and tugs at a lock of hair that’s fallen from where he’d tied it back in frustration. “One of these days I’ll come at you with my scissors, young man.”

Eddie sighs dramatically and swivels on the stool as she reaches the door, “Promises, promises. And yet…”

Pearl pushes the door open and says with a wink, “You’ll never see me coming.”

The door falls shut behind her, allowing him to return his attention to you behind the counter.

At the far end of the shop, you’re hefting open freezer doors and scooping out near perfect spheres of ice cream onto sugar and waffle cones, scoffing when someone requests a cup instead.

He’s surprised to see no one else behind the counter, there’s usually at least one person to man the counter with during the busier hours, the after dinner rush.

The door keeps chiming as people join the line, eyeing the offerings— campfire marshmallow, french toast, vanilla, strawberry, rainbow sherbert— the list goes on and on. Some lean over and whisper to their dates, earning a tittering giggle here and there. Sticky hands of children smack against the glass pointing out their selection as you shove another scoop onto a towering waffle cone.

And it’s then that Eddie decides he’s had quite enough of this.

Tossing his bag behind the counter and hopping over it, all long limbs and pointy elbows. His knees pop slightly as he passes behind you to grab a scoop from the water trough.

“What’re you doing?”

“Uh, helping out?”

And without another word, he turns to the next customer and takes their order, only stepping on the toes of your Keds once or twice before locating the correct flavor.

“God,” He mutters under his breath, the tendons of his forearm prominent as he scoops a glob of pink cotton candy ice cream onto a sugar cone. “People actually like this crap?”

You merely shrug in response before sliding the freezer door shut and opening the next. It goes like this for nearly half and hour before Vickie stumbles in from the service entrance, her cheeks tinged pink and accompanied by a dazed look in her eye.

“Sorry, sorry!” She frantically apologizes, clocking in with her punch card.

Tying on an apron, which Eddie never bothered to do, she greets the customers at the till and rings them up while you make what could very well be the hundredth shake ordered that day, the mixer revving loudly over your retort.

“I’ll allow it,” You turn with a knowing smirk to Vickie, “But you owe me big time, Little Red.”

“Details?” She squeaks.

“Oh, that and more Vic,” You laugh as the machine whirs to a stop.

Deftly, you pour the shake into a cup and shake the canister of whipped cream vigorously. Eddie tries and fails to hide the blush coloring his cheeks as your shirt rides up with the motion. The ‘JERK’ emblazoned on your chest pulling taut against the swell of your breasts from the movement.

He nearly chokes on his own spit.

“Shit,” He rasps as his throat pulls tight.

Passing the shake over with a polite smile to a customer, you thump him forcefully on the back.

Which would be all well and good, if not for the fact that he wasn’t expecting it, and, as a result, falls bodily into your chest, legs tangling with yours, and takes the pair of you down to the mat behind the counter.

“Ow.”

Peering open an eye, he finds Vickie, arms crossed and toe tapping the tile floor, looking down at the both of you with a bemused pull of her lips.

“See, this is why it’s employees only behind the counter,” You say with a grunt as you peel yourself from the floor. “You’re not OSHA certified, Munson.”

Eddie digs the heel of his palms into his eye sockets, hoping that maybe he can just sink into the floor and forget this ever happened.

Because you’re warm, what with having worked up a sweat manning the counter single-handedly and your legs are nice; too nice maybe, with the way his heart is kicking up in his chest, to say nothing of what’s kicking up in his pants.

“Sorry,” He sighs, coming to a seated position. “Are you okay?”

Dusting your hands against the denim cutoffs you’re sporting, you turn and give him a smile. “Never better.”

Legs still tangled, you unwind your limbs from his, crisp white Keds knocking against scuffed Reeboks. He takes the hand you offer and allows himself to be pulled up, only to be greeted by six beatific smiles and less than subtle winks or nods.

“Sooooo,” Dustin drawls, fingers drumming against the glass of the freezer, “Fun trip?”

The ensuing laughter and taunts from what was formerly his favorite group of high schoolers, is enough to make Eddie miss the solitude of Reefer Rick’s cabin.

_

If May was a sprint, then June was a dive into cool water.

Rope swings lassoed around tree branches, splashing into a placid lake from great heights. Blankets spread on rocks and grass for makeshift picnics. The hum of cicadas as lips wrapped around lifted bottles of booze from the Harrington’s liquor cabinet.

Nearly a month gone and Eddie still hadn’t worked up the courage.

Which is how he found himself perched on rock formation that bordered Lover’s Lake with the boys— Harrington, Byers, and Argyle— playing barely tipsy lifeguard as you swam circles around Nancy, Robin, and Vickie. The latter two had somehow wound themselves into a Gordian Knot of limbs and had earned an eagle-eyed glare from one former captain of the swim team.

“Go to the shallows!” Steve called out, a half-empty bottle of whiskey at his feet. “No, Rob,” He huffed and stood up, “You gotta use your arms, like this!” He demonstrated with a perfect backstroke that Robin seemed woefully unequipped to replicate.

“What?!”

Robin’s befuddled call echoed against the rocks lining the shore and spurned Steve into action.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, passing the bottle off to Eddie. “Stay there ya dingus!”

Steve’s body elegantly cut into the water and he surfaced to a smattering of applause from those still perched on the rock.

“Good form, I’d give it a solid 8.5,” Eddie decreed before taking long pull from the bottle.

“Now way man,” Argyle piped up, “That’s at least a 9.The way he slipped into the water like that? Some top tier stuff right there.”

He elbowed Jonathan who was preoccupied with blowing rings from his joint.

“Huh? Oh, uh. 5?”

Steve merely rolled his eyes and swam toward Robin and Vickie, who where no closer to shore now than they were when this whole charade began.

“You’re shitting me dude. A 5 out of 10?”

“Oh, fuck.” Jonathan completed one rather slow blink in Eddie’s direction. “I thought it was like, out of five. My bad.”

Argyle called out the new score from the judges to Steve, who had his hands full with Robin and Vickie’s frantically kicking and thrashing limbs, so much so, that he was rather relieved when you swam up beside him to help.

Eddie placed the bottle between his feet and leaned back on his hands, face turned toward the night sky.

Stars littered the inky blue like so many twinkling lights. A few lightning bugs buzzed further along the edge of the wood, a soft yellow glow to guide through the dark. The lake grew calm again, small lapping waves skirting the shore as distant voices grew closer.

“Hey man,” Argyle nudged Eddie’s shoulder with his, knocking him from his reverie. “How’s our favorite soda jerk?”

He smiled despite himself, “She’s fine, I guess.”

“Hmm. And Operation Meatball?”

Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes, “Henderson got to you too, I see. That kid needs to get a hobby.”

Dustin, and the rest of his band of hellions, had gotten it into their heads that Eddie and you were destined to be. Had an entire notebook dedicated to plans and named the whole endeavor after a scene from Lady and the Tramp, which Eddie couldn’t even bring himself to protest.

“I dunno dude,” Argyle shrugged, “She’s schmokin and I may have seen her eye you a time or two.”

He was glad for the cover of night, because his face felt positively on fire.

“You know, if you’d—” Argyle began, only to get cut off by the sound of approaching footfalls.

“Hey guys,” You greeted, stepping onto the rock and dripping water onto Eddie’s arm. “Oh, shit, sorry Ed!” You take a step back and grab a towel from a nearby bag. Tying your hair up in the striped towel, you settle back at his side. “Ooh, got any more of that?”

He follows your eyes to the bottle at his feet, and stretches to grab it. Your damp fingers brush his along the neck of the bottle, and he, impossibly, blushes all the more.

“S’all yours.”

“Much obliged,” You say with a nod toward him.

Your lips wrap around the bottle, and Eddie can’t help but watch a rivulet of water trickle its way down your throat. His fingers itch to chase it, his tongue longs to taste it.

Jonathan deploys a well-timed cough and pointed glance in Eddie’s direction to excuse himself and Argyle.

“Catch you later chica,” Argyle promises with a grasp to your shoulder, “Lemme know when that horchata flavor comes in!”

You promise to do so with a laugh and a wave, before turning your attention back to the water. Eddie sits at your side, quiet, save for the movemnt of his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. There’s a few sounds from Steve dutifully pouring Robin and Vickie into the BMW with conferring with Nancy as she wrangles Jonathan and Argyle into the station wagon.

“You good?”

Turning at the sound of Nancy’s voice, Eddie can see your mouth pull into a smile, the white of your teeth bringing to mind a cheshire cat. Your elbow knocks into his as you duck toward him conspiratorially.

“Whaddya say, Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

Lightning bugs float around your damp hair that’s fallen from its turban, water slick waves drying slowly in the summer heat. A halo blurry gold around your head, Eddie loses all faculty of language, lost in the soft glow cast against your sun warmed skin.

“Take me home?”

He merely nods in response, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“I’m good!” You call back to Nancy and take another pull from the bottle.

“Call me when you’re home!”

The sound of car engines turning over fills the air, tires crunching over gravel and dried pine needles littering the forest floor. The heat of the day quickly dissipates, replaced with a soft breeze that alleviates a bit of the humidity. And it’s quiet on the shore, save for the clinking of the bottle as you take sips every so often.

For all his gregarious and dramatic antics, truth be told, Eddie didn’t quite know how to simply be. At least, not since spring break with the nearly dying and all of that. He’d returned to the land of the living a little more somber, recovering in the hospital between hushed tones from doctors and nurses, louder exclamations from Henderson and his brood, the comforting weight of Wayne’s hand at his shoulder.

Sure, he’d rallied.

Put on a brave face for the kids, found familiarity in a strained smile mirrored in Steve. Noticed his own body jerking in time with Robin’s at the sound of an unanticipated loud noise. Was quick to cover his discomfort with a joke buoyed by Argyle’s raucous laugh. Found himself helping Nancy plan outings to take everyone’s mind off of things. Sought out Jonathan to share a smoke when it all got to be too much.

But you—

He never minded the quiet with you.

Eddie could maybe, for a moment, let it fall away.

A clink of a glass bottle broke his reverie as it joined the others discarded on the ground.

“This is nice,” You said with a languid stretch, arms raised above your head and falling in a graceful arc as you settled back against the rock.

He had to agree.

“Can I uh, ask you something?”

Your voice had taken on an unfamiliar tone, almost as if you made yourself smaller and unsure. It wasn’t his favorite, he had to admit. Eddie preferred the unapologetic way you carried yourself, a royal flush of confidence which you bandied about with no inhibitions.

Timid didn’t suit you, at least, not in his humble opinion.

He knocked shoulders with you, tried to inject some levity into his voice.

“Shoot.”

“Well,” You squirmed next to him, “And you don’t have to answer this if like, it makes you uncomfortable— the last thing I wanna do is offend you, swear to God.” You take a breath to steel yourself. “I just, I noticed you weren’t swimming today.”

“Ah.”

“I mean,” You clear your throat, “You really never swim, not at Steve’s pool, not here. So.”

“Are you asking if I can swim?” He jokes, “Because, I’m definitely capable. Dear old Dad threw me into a creek,” crick, “And told me to get on with it.”

A hushed laugh falls from your lips, “So, you can but you don’t. Any reason why?”

“Well that,” He says, softer now, “Is quite the story.”

You hum, content with the response not pushing for more than he’s willing to share.

“Tell me someday?”

And oh, is he in trouble. Because the odds of that are more far likely than you’d think.

You’re quick to pack up after that. Eddie trails after you, tossing an odd can or cigarette butt into a trash bag and hauling it to the van. He scratches the light stubble of his jaw, nail catching along the scar decorating his cheek. It’s not as bad as it had been, mostly white with pink tinged edges, and receding into his jawline enough to slip most notice.

It’s not that Eddie regrets the scars, he did what he had to do— the whorls of pink and white puckered skin that now embellished him from hip to shoulder were a simple reminder of that.

Just not one that he’s keen to advertise.

He lets you fiddle with the radio, static crackling through the speakers before the opening riff of Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” sails through. An easy smile lights up your face as you lean back in the seat and sing along.

I’ll be with you my darling, soon, I’ll be with you when the stars start falling

His grip tightens on the wheel and he wills himself to focus on the road ahead and not the soft croon of your voice. Which is kind of difficult given how sweet you sound, how desperate he is for your touch.

He rolls up to your apartment complex by the song’s end, having had the pleasure of your signing for the duration of the drive. And Eddie’s probably biased, but he thinks you could give Jack Bruce a run for his money.

He parks the van in front of your building, letting it idle as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You’re grooving a little bit in your seat, and Eddie allows himself a moment to be selfish— gazing as you shake out your mostly dry hair and sway in time to the song, a secret smile pulling at his lips.

Opening your eyes, you meet his gaze. Leaning over the consol, your fingers caress his jaw, turning him to face you fully. The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.

Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.

I’ve been waiting so long, to be where I’m going in the sunshine of your love.

_

But July—

July passes like a dream, as delightful as the sugary syrup currently crawling its way down your arm. The bomb pop melting all too quickly in the height of the summer sun, trickles of red, white, and blue cascade down your sun hewn skin.

A screech pierces the air as Eddie leans over from his seat on the Harrington’s patio to lick the drips from your arm.

Loud enough to draw the attention of the kids and soon his soft huffs of laughter as replaced with a prolonged “Eeeewwww,” from the girls and an offended scoff of “Gross,” from Henderson.

“Can it!” Steve says, volleying a beach ball at his head, knocking his ever-preset baseball cap into the chlorinated water.

Eddie nods in thanks before continuing his assault of your arm.

“Shit, babe, no teeth!”

He ignores this and elects to dig his teeth into the temptation of your skin. You swat him away and recline back in your chair, Raybans affixed to your face, a pout on your lips.

“You’re no fun,” He grouses, kicking back in his recliner. “You use teeth.”

“Artfully,” You quip back in reply, “Poetry will be written about the exploits of my chompers, the deftness, the skill with which I decorate canvases of skin.”

And well yeah, Eddie would know. He has several bruises blossoming along his torso and thighs from said exploits.

So he really couldn’t complain.

He lets the clubmasters slide back onto his face, the blue polarized lenses giving the scene a cooler, dreamier tint. His hand falls to the side, fingers walking their way over to tangle with yours. You give him a quick squeeze before turning your attention back to your latest bookstore acquisition, The Handmaid’s Tale.

In fact, once Eddie got over himself and blurted out some amalgamation of ‘Can I take you out?’, you’d booped him on the nose in response, much to his horror, and waited a beat to say:

“Sure thing, stud,” — Eddie’s summer had only gotten better.

Was it annoying to have near daily occurrence of high schoolers singing “Summer Lovin’” at him? Yes. Were you worth it? Obviously.

Eddie had attempted to date, briefly and disastrously, in the past. In that respect, maybe he was a little gun shy.

But one night stands? Quickies? Handies after a deal at a party? Bjs in the back of the van?

Yeah, that he’d done. And was definitely the more enthusiastic partner in retrospect. And now, with you?

Well, suffice it to say that your first round in the sack wasn’t exactly picture perfect, and he’d nearly gotten a broken nose for all his effort. But, y’know, learning curve and all that, maybe some lighting was required so he could avoid getting socked in the mouth or something.

“Yuck, what is that?” Dustin says with thinly veiled annoyance, gesturing to your hand clasped in Eddie’s. “Hands Across America?”

“The fuck,” Eddie perks up, squinting as he flips his sunglasses onto his forehead. “Hands doing what now?”

“Pfft,” You blow a raspberry and lazily thumb over to a new page, “You don’t even know what day it is, or what’s going on.”

“Yeah, and I wish I knew even less.”

“Hands Across America was months ago, by the way.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Really and truly.”

“So, hey,” Eddie ignores Dustin’s gagging and turns toward you in earnest. “D’ya like sex?”

“Uh huh.”

“And travel, you like that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Well then, sweetheart,” He drops your hand from his, drawing your interest away from the plot.

You huff, perturbed by the interruption and glance his way.

“Then you can fuck right off.”

Eddie raises a solitary finger elegantly, aristocratically even. Something practiced time and time again until it became second nature. It’d be kind of impressive if he weren’t so damned annoying about it, flipping the bird every chance he got.

A trait that, unfortunately, the young Wheeler had adopted as his own.

Despite yourself, a laugh breaks from your lips, loud enough to draw the other’s attention from the pool.

“God, I hate you.”

“Really and truly?”

“Oh, you bet sunshine.”

Unbeknownst to the pair of you, Steve and Robin had corralled the kids out of the pool and lured them away with the promise of pizza. Nancy sidles out from the sliding glass door with the cordless in hand, tossing it over to Eddie.

“We got the usual— cheese, pepperoni, and cheesy bread. But I know you’re particular, so.”

“Right on, Wheels. Good lookin’ out.”

Eddie grabs for you again fingers twining with yours as he rattles off the usual to the pizza guy as Nancy makes her way back inside.

“Hey man, can I get an order of mushroom and black olive with the banana peppers and a shit ton of red pepper flakes? Uh huh, yeah.”

He pulls the phone away from his face, tucking it against his jaw to mouth something to you.

You watch his lips, red from one too many popsicles, form the words.

“Garlic sauce? Hell yeah.”

He returns to the call.

“And the— Oh, you heard that? Cool. Thanks, man.”

He hangs up and tosses the phone onto a rumpled pile of towels, tugging at your arm.

“Ugh, what,” You grouse, finally dropping your book on the patio.

“You’re so far away,” He whines, draping the back of his hand across his forehead to heave a woeful sigh. “Oh, when will my beloved return from the war?”

You roll your eyes and clamber over to his pool chair, straddling his hips. “Okay, calm down Scarlett. Tara is thattaway.” You hike a thumb somewhere in the general vicinity of what you’re pretty sure is south. You laugh and crawl your way into his lap.

And, here’s the thing:

It’s easy.

A foreign concept in Eddie’s life up until this particular point.

Which is to say, that since the advent of your relationship with him, Eddie found himself spending more time on his knees than he ever had amongst the pews.

While there’s no catechism for for this particular piety, he’ll take this act of communion for what it is—

His lips and tongue spouting devotionals as he kneels between your thighs. And he’d never been one for God, but maybe He’d made it so two bodies can fit holy wholly together.

After all, he’d been penitent enough.

You twine a streamer of his hair around your finger, head slotting into the cul-de-sac of his throat. His arms wind about your hips, anchoring you in place.

Steve sticks his head out to say he’s forcing the kids on a field-trip to get the pizza, Nance and Robin are grabbing some drinks from the store.

You hum in idle contentment and sink further into Eddie, as if he could consume you entire.

If my body is of your body and your body is of mine, can ever the two be parted? What lies in me now does in you, a reflection in kind.

The marks that decorate his skin, both intentional and accidental, fail to define him.

If they ever really could.

You’d traced their shape, plotted their paths, and transmuted them before his very eyes. The weight, the lead sinking and skittering and pulling him down was no more.

“If I could,” you’d said softly one night, a riot of arms and legs tangled against his own, a lone finger rhapsodizing against his ribs, travelling a familiar continent. “I’d paint you golden.”

No, not gilt.

But gold.

It still daunts Eddie how freely he fell— for you and the effervescent joy that flourished in your wake. It used to unnerve him, if he thought about it too much. For the longest time, he wasn’t sure if what he felt was real, or simply a facsimile of love.

He learned not to dawdle in his darker moods.

He’d hummed at your declaration, so much more accustomed to gloomier comparisons. You’d turned up at him, cleaving your chin across the ladder of his ribs, eyes big and brighter than any star he’d ever seen.

And he hadn’t known what to say.

Weeks had passed and he still hadn’t a clue how to respond.

“Hey,” Dustin yells, striding out of the sliding glass door. “Dinner’s ready!” He waits impatiently, striking a similar pose to that of Steve when he’s at his wit’s end.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, shooing him away and slinging a leg off of the recliner.

He takes you with him, much to your protest.

“Noooo,” you whine, “Eddie, the physical therapist said—”

“That I’m fine,” He reminds you, securing his grip under your thighs as he carries you inside the house.

Your petulant pout demands satisfaction, and he acquiesces, dipping his head to yours in a quick kiss.

“Y’know,” he says, voice rumbling and low as everyone fixes up their plates in the kitchen. He sets you on the island counter, his hands spread just past your thighs, arms loosely caging you in.

He smells like summer— sugar and chlorine and salt and the tell-tale wisp of a cigarette. His hair is loose and wild, sheltering you from prying eyes as he rests his head against yours.

It hits him like a thunderclap and descends as quickly as revelation.

“I’d follow you into the sun.”

It’s not a declaration, but a simple fact.

Love.

He’d tell you someday, but not quite yet.

For now, he’ll watch your lips kick up in that adorable smile of yours, the kind that crinkles the corner of your eyes from the sheer amount of joy packed in it. Allowing himself to float on the thinnest of air just for a moment.

This summer, you’ve been his North Star, always there.

And he hopes you always will be.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Bro PLS write about subby sigma that's all I need in life 😭🙏

Ohhh, I have something about bunny sigma in heat in my drafts. I wanted to throw it away, but oh well, maybe I’ll polish it a little and post it instead

Dom!reader x sub!bunny!sigma

Warning: heat, teasing, breeding kink

He would be so embarrassed, not telling you about it until it gets too much

In other words, sigma would actively try to act like nothing happened, like everything is as it should be

Keeps working like normal, managing the casino and hanging out with you in his free time

But he starts taking many short breaks throughout the day, and also seems to be sweating a lot, or his face gets red very easily, he’s also more jumpy than usual

Maybe he hasn’t been feeling very well lately?

Sigma wanted to take suppressants and hide it, but whenever you are near him the meds just doesn’t work! He still feels so hot!

Until one day he comes to you with his head hanging down, gently tugging at your sleeve and looking up at you with the cutest expression ever

“Y/n..I-I need some help..I- hic..l'm in heat”

Whispering so quietly, face already flushed pink, gaze unfocused - just randomly looking around at anything but you

Aww, that's why he seemed a bit different lately! So, you better help him <3

Like anyone in heat, he gets especially clingy, but he knows he has work to do so he instead invites you to his casino 24/7. Poor boy misses you so easily and wants you close to him

Just the thought that you are near him is enough to calm him down a bit

The moment he has some free time, he runs to you for you to touch him

Wants you to fuck him in so many ways, he just wants to mate with you, and have many cute little bunnies..!! (Who cares if it’s possible or not, it’s an instinct)

If you were to tease him, like extending the foreplay even though you know how needy he is, he will cry on the spot

“Why-why are you so, hic..me-mean..?”

Such a cry baby, whining if he doesn't get what he wants, like a spoiled princess

But it's all because of his heat circle, so please have mercy with him~

Would be so sex focused, always grinding and humping against you- ugh, so fucking needy

Rub his ears or tail and he would be mewling and purring, rub his sacrum, the place connecting his tail to his body, and he will whimper

His squeaks and moans are really cute though…

Would become a bit more masochistic then normally, wanting to be marked and manhandled by you, but also leaving many claw marks on your back during the deed-

Also, might come off a little demanding at times, but he’s still a good boy

Just tend to his needs, he deserves it

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — seven: because you were available

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

masterlist | previous | next

The next day while rifling through your locker, you sensed someone behind you. Turning, you found Sunghoon standing there, his dark eyes peered themselves over at your frame.

“Hey.” He greeted, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hi?” you replied, taken aback by his sudden attention. Sunghoon was always surrounded with Hanni and the others, effortlessly intimidating the rest of the school in a way that made you wonder why he was talking to you.

“You followed me back on Twitter,” Sunghoon continued casually, leaning against the locker next to yours.

“Oh yeah,” you stammered, trying to collect yourself. “Didn’t think you’d follow me.”

"Don't worry about it," Sunghoon said with a grin. "Listen, I was thinking of hitting up Hongdae tonight. Wanna join me for dinner? My treat."

Hongdae—filled with various clubs and bustling streets—seemed a world away from Decelis Academy's polished façade. You hesitated, not sure what to do.

“Sure.” You say, closing your locker.

“Awesome, I’ll text you the details.”

And with that, Park Sunghoon leaves, and you swore your heart leaped out of your chest.

What the hell was going on?

When 7pm hit, you told Sunghoon to pick you up at the park.

No way were you risking him seeing your house. He would know right away that you weren’t wealthy like the rest of them.

“The park?” Sunghoon says as he rolls down his windows.

His car was a brand new Mercedes, and it looked shiny in the moonlight. It sounded cliche to say, but that’s exactly how it looked like from your point of view.

"Yeah," you replied, unable to hide your nervousness. "Maid was cleaning out the house..”

He shrugs, unlocking the passenger car door.

When the two of you arrived, Sunghoon parked on a curb near a club. You were nervous to say the least, not sure if Sunghoon wanted to go here.

Instead, he takes your hand, greeting the club owner as you entered.

“Youngsook! What’s up?”

The older man laughs, patting Sunghoon on the back and whistling. You swore you never felt more uncomfortable in your life.

Sunghoon takes you upstairs, which reveals a secluded rooftop with a blanket and picnic basket. The sun had longed dipped itself below the horizon, which showed a breathtaking display of lights and life.

"Wow, did you plan all of this?”

“Well, Youngsook helped me.” Sunghoon grins. “Kinda intimate, isn’t it? Don’t worry, it’s just to see the sunset.”

“Okay.” you nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “This rooftop has an amazing view.”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sent warmth spreading through your chest. "Yeah, used to run off with Heeseung here all the time back in sophomore year.”

Weirdly, in that moment, Sunghoon made you feel seen, understood, in a way you hadn't realized you craved.

“Why didn’t you do this with Hanni?” You blurt out quietly, not wanting to face Sunghoon.

“Sorry?”

“I mean—you guys are close, aren’t you? Why aren’t you seeing the sunset with her?”

Maybe a small part in you hoped he would say, well maybe she isn’t you, but that felt a tad bit delusional and embarrassing to think about.

“She’s golfing.” He explains, and you know by the tone of his voice that you shouldn’t ask further questions.

“Oh.” You pause for a moment. “So why me?”

“Because you were available.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at his words, not expecting it to be so straightforward and somewhat cruel.

Sure, it didn’t seem like a big deal. It probably wasn’t to Sunghoon—but the way he worded it made your tongue sour.

Because you were available. Not because he found you interesting or wanted to get to know you better, no—it was because you were available.

You hurriedly looked back at your phone, seeing the clock had already hit 10:30.

“Do you think you can drop me off at the park?”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows raise at your question.

“The park? Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

A part of you hopes Park Sunghoon might offer to walk you home. After all, he wasn’t a complete asshole. Right?

“Sure, I’ll drop you off at the park.”

And he does. He drives fast through the streets of Hongdae until you’re far away from the loud rustling music from the bars and all is quiet again.

“See you tomorrow.” You say quietly as he pits to a stop. You slowly open the passenger door, all while not sparing one glance at Sunghoon.

“Uh—sure, yeah, see you tomorrow.”

He pulls up his window, the car speeding off afterwards, leaving you to walk home with your thoughts.

AUTHOR’s NOTE: oh not the refy products hoon is a hoe

[xxspringmelodyxx]

𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝑀𝑒~

𝑨𝒚𝒂𝒕𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒌𝒐 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕)

⊱ 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐, 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔! 𝑾𝒆'𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒚𝒂𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎. 𝑼𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚, 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝑵𝒐𝒘, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚! ⊰ 𝒘𝒄: 3.7𝒌

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Warnings: Swearing, angst, sad, sad, sad⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿ ✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿ ✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿ ✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿ ✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿ ✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿ ✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿ ˚❀˚·⋆✿

I looked ahead, forcing a smile as I prepared to meet the woman who had captured Ayato’s heart. As I continued towards Ayato's place, my steps grew heavier, each one a painful reminder of what I was about to face. The air seemed thicker, my breath shallow as if my lungs couldn’t expand fully. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks, my heart feeling as if it had been ripped apart.

From a distance, I saw the man I deeply loved kissing another woman. Not just any woman, but the renowned Kanaka. She is the heir to a powerful merchant family known for their extensive trade networks and influence in high society. She manages the family business with an iron fist, excelling in negotiations and strategic alliances. Every aspect of her life seemed to be polished and perfected, making her appear as the ideal partner for him.

My chest tightened as they gazed lovingly at each other. The world around me blurred, the vibrant summer day turning dull and lifeless. I wanted to be angry at her, to hate everything about her—but I couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault Ayato fell for her. To him, I was just a childhood friend, nothing more.

Besides, Kanaka was a high-class, elegant woman with a sharp intellect and a commanding presence. She exuded grace and sophistication, always dressed in luxurious attire that reflected her prestigious background. She spoke with a confidence that demanded attention, her every move calculated to perfection. Again, perfect for someone like Ayato.

When I finally reached them, Ayato’s eyes lit up and he instantly came to greet me. “Y/N, you made it. I hope the walk wasn’t too much,” he said, his voice a soothing melody that always managed to calm my nerves. I chuckled, trying to hide the ache in my heart. Truthfully, it was a long walk—almost ten miles from where I was. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Though, meeting halfway next time would be nice,” I replied, making him laugh.

“I apologize for making you walk all this way. I thought it would be a good time for you to meet my girlfriend since she’s in the city. You never know when she’ll be off on another business meeting,” he said, wrapping his arm around Kanaka. She smiled sweetly at Ayato, placing her hand on his chest, her fingers lightly tracing circles as if she owned him.

I shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the air thickening. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Kanaka. How long have you known Ayato?” I asked, trying to make small talk. Before she answered, I thought I saw a slight glare, but maybe it was just in my head. “Oh, we’ve known each other for about a year, but we’ve been together for almost six months,” she responded, her voice smooth and unwavering. I nodded, forcing a smile.

“Well, you’re very lucky, and Ayato is too. He’s dating the legendary Kanaka we’ve all heard about,” I said, praising her. She smiled, moving closer to Ayato. “Yes, we’re both very lucky. I’m glad I got my hands on him before anyone else could,” she said, eyeing me up and down, her gaze piercing through my facade.

An awkward silence followed, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between us. “Well then, I’m a bit thirsty. Shall we have some tea? I’ll ask Thoma to make it,” Ayato said, making my eyes light up. It would be nice to see Thoma again. It’s been a while since we last talked. Plus, it would distract me from the current situation. “I would love that,” I said, making Ayato smile. “Great, you two get to know each other while I help Thoma with the tea,” he said, walking away into his home.

I looked at Kanaka with a smile, trying to be friendly. “So, Kanaka, what brought you back he—” “Cut the small talk. You don’t need to pretend to be friends with me,” she said, catching me off guard. Her voice was sharp, each word laced with underlying hostility. “What?” I asked, hoping I misheard.

“I know how you feel about Ayato. I know about your silly love for him, but I want you away from him. I don’t want to see you near him after today, understood?” she said, making my frustration grow. “Listen, I’ve been best friends with Ayato since we were kids. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do with him. Besides, I don’t think he’d like the way you’re talking to me.”

“Oh, you won’t tell him,” she said confidently, her smirk widening. “And why not? Enlighten me,” I said, my anger rising. “Because if you do, this…” she said, holding up a necklace that was very important to me. It was my mother's. She gave it to me before she passed away. My breath caught in my throat. “How did you—” “I found it on Ayato's desk. He told me it was yours and that you accidentally left it when you last visited.” “You wouldn’t dare—” “Oh, but I would. Having you around Ayato makes it difficult for me to accomplish my mission,” Kanaka said with a sly smile. “What mission? What are you planning?” I demanded, confusion and anger boiling within me.

She smirked, circling me like a predator, her eyes never leaving mine. “Ayato is a wealthy man, and his money allows me to do as I please. His high status will elevate my position even further. I can access places and influence decisions that were previously out of reach,” she explained, her tone dripping with ambition. “So you’re just using him for his money and status? But you already have wealth and influence!” I exclaimed, baffled by her greed.

“True, but Ayato’s connections and the additional power I gain through him can open doors even my family’s influence cannot. It’s not just about wealth, it’s about absolute control and domination. I want to be untouchable,” she replied, her eyes gleaming with a cold, ruthless determination. “You're terrible! Wait until I—” “Until you what? Tell him everything I just told you? Why would you do that when you know the only thing left from your mother is in danger of being destroyed?” she taunted, holding up the precious necklace.

I fell silent, my mind racing to find a way to stop her. Instinctively, I lunged at her to grab my necklace. She swiftly tripped me, sending me to the ground. Pain shot through my knees, but I got back up and punched her, desperate to make her let go. We struggled fiercely, yanking on the necklace. “Give it back, you crazy bitch!” I yelled, my voice filled with rage and desperation.

Suddenly, a voice I dreaded hearing rang out. “What is going on here?!” Ayato yelled. We both looked up at him. Kanaka pushed me off her and ran to Ayato, crying fake tears. “Ayato, my love. I was just trying to talk, but she attacked me,” she said, showing him her black eye. “Are you kidding me? Ayato, she’s lying! She’s using you for your wealth. She even threatened to destroy something very important to me so that I wouldn’t tell you!” I retorted. He glared at me, confused and hurt. “How could you hurt her, Y/N? She was just trying to talk to you!” he raised his voice. “Ayato, you can’t seriously believe her—”

“I believe every word. Why would she lie to me?” he said naively. I stared in disbelief. “Ayato, I—” “Enough! You’ve done enough. I thought you’d be happy for me finding someone who loves me. Someone I truly love. But I guess not,” he said with disappointment. “I think it’s best if you leave,” he said, turning away and tending to Kanaka. I looked at her and saw her smirking at me while Ayato hugged her. “Fine.” I said, turning away. “And don’t worry, you won’t hear from me again,” I muttered. Kanaka smirked as she watched me leave, happy to have rid herself of me. “Come on, love. Let’s get you some ice,” Ayato cooed at Kanaka.

Thoma saw everything, shocked at Ayato’s outburst. How could he not believe you? You’ve known each other for years, yet he trusts the girl he’s only known for a year?

He followed me to a small park, watching as I collapsed to the ground, my knees pulled to my chest. He knew he needed to help, and so he ran up to me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he made me look up at him. “Thoma…What are you doing here?” I asked, my tear-stained face breaking his heart. He knelt beside me, his presence a comforting anchor. “Y/N…” was all he said, understanding what had really happened. My eyes filled with tears again as I hugged him. He hugged me tightly, offering solace in the midst of my heartbreak.

“He didn’t believe me…after all these years…” I sobbed, the weight of betrayal heavy on my heart. Thoma rubbed my back, pained by my distress. “I know…I don’t understand what went through his head. But I want you to know that I believe you,” he said, making me look up. “You do? Why?” I asked, seeking reassurance. “

Because I trust you. Plus, I remember you crying over a dead butterfly because you accidentally stepped on it. I knew then it was almost impossible for you to hurt someone unless they deserved it,” he said, emitting a half-hearted laugh from me. “That butterfly probably had a family!” I retorted, seeing Thoma smile. “There's that smile.” He said happily, sitting down beside me. We watched the sky, admiring its beauty in silence. That was until Thoma decided to ask me a question.

“May I ask…why did you punch Kanaka?” I sighed, my body deflating, “It was because she stole something from me,” I admitted. He looked at me, encouraging me to continue. “She took my necklace…the one my mother gave me before she…you know.” 

“What?! Why did she have that in the first place?” he asked, his voice tinged with anger. “I accidentally left it on Ayato’s desk last time I was here. Now she’s threatening to destroy it if I get close to Ayato. I can’t even see him anymore,” I explained, my voice trembling. Thoma, usually calm, looked visibly angry. He cared deeply about those close to him and couldn’t stand seeing them hurt or threatened. He stood up, ready to march back. 

“Where are you going?” I asked. “I’m going to settle this once and for all. You don’t deserve this, especially after all you’ve done for Ayato,” he said firmly. I quickly ran up to him. “No! Stop, Thoma!” I said, pushing him down. “Y/N, let me go teach Ayato and that woman a lesson,” he said, surprising me with his anger. “No! If you do, she’ll destroy the only thing I have left of my mother,” I pleaded, my voice breaking. 

“Please, Thoma. She’s already taken Ayato from me…don’t let her take the other thing I love,” I begged, making him frown. “Fine. But only because I hate seeing you hurt. But if she does anything else to you, it’s game over,” he warned. “When did you become so fierce?” I asked with a small smile. “When someone I care about is being threatened,” he said, making me smile.

We both got up and dusted ourselves off. “Well, no matter what Ayato says, I still want to see you. It would be boring if I didn’t. I’ll even teach you some of my cooking tricks…and maybe how to make my amazing tea,” he said, making my eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Of course! It’s about time you learned,” he said, making me smile. “I would love that! But I’ll only go there for you. I can’t be anywhere near Ayato or that necklace is gone. In the meantime, I have to figure out how to get it back,” I said, making him nod.

“Well, I better head back. Meet me whenever you’re ready. But make sure it’s soon. I don’t want to worry about whether you’re coming if you take too long,” he joked, making me smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon. For now, I’m going home to figure some things out. Talk to you later, Thoma.” “Bye, Y/n. I’ll see you soon!” he replied, watching me disappear.

A few months passed, and Ayato found himself desperately missing you. After the argument, the void your absence created quickly became evident to him. Almost a week after the incident, he spotted you approaching. Ready to greet you with a warm hug, his confusion grew when you walked past him without so much as a glance. Initially, he thought you were simply in a hurry, but it became clear this wasn’t the case when it happened every time you visited. What stung the most was seeing you always heading to Thoma. He watched as you and Thoma laughed and smiled together, a sight that fueled his jealousy.

Ayato made several attempts to talk to you, but each one was met with curt replies. “Hey Y/N, how are you?” he asked, hoping to start a conversation. “Fine,” you said, quickly walking away. “Are you doing anything today?” he inquired. “Busy helping Thoma.” “Wanna go for a walk?” “Not now.” No matter what he tried, you remained distant, and each rejection tightened the ache in his chest. Months had passed, and it was like this every time you visited. It was driving him insane.

Today was no different. He sat with Kanaka, his eyes fixed on you as you happily chatted with Thoma, your smile brighter than the sun. Why were you acting this way? Was it because of the argument? Kanaka was talking beside him, but Ayato’s focus was entirely on you. He watched closely, his jealousy spiking every time Thoma hugged you, whispered in your ear, or laughed with you. But why did he feel this way? You were single, and he had Kanaka. He shouldn’t be acting like this. Then why did sadness and jealousy twist in his heart every time he saw you with Thoma? He had Kanaka…that should be enough, right?

Ayato’s eyes widened as a familiar, yet long-suppressed, feeling began to stir within him–his feelings for you were resurfacing. He had convinced himself that those emotions were buried deep, rendered inert by time and circumstance. But as he glanced at Kanaka, who was engrossed in her conversation about commissions, his gaze inevitably drifted back to you.

He couldn’t help but notice the brightness of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes as you talked to Thoma. It struck him how much he missed the way you used to look at him like that, how much he longed to hear your voice again. Lost in his thoughts, he unknowingly tightened his grip on his tea glass until it shattered, the sharp sound jolting everyone around. In that moment, his eyes met yours. He saw your beautiful eyes, but the brief relief he felt quickly dissipated as he noticed the light in them had faded, replaced by a profound sadness. 

“My dear! Are you alright?” Kanaka asked, but he remained silent. The two of you stared at each other, waiting for someone to break the silence. Unfortunately, it was you who looked away first. He heard Kanaka grumble when she saw the two of you staring at each other.

Odd.

Suddenly, Ayato saw you stand up and thank Thoma. As you turned to leave, something inside him snapped. He couldn’t let you walk away again. Not this time. “Y/N!” he called out, his voice louder than he intended. You stopped but didn’t turn towards him. “Why don’t you come here and join me for some tea? I know it’s your favorite,” he said, a hint of desperation in his tone. “No thanks. I’ve got to go—”

“Yeah, besides, you don’t need her, darling. You can talk to me,” Kanaka interrupted, causing you to glare at her.

“Y/N, please—” “I said no. I’m leaving. Goodbye, Thoma.”

That’s when Ayato’s frustration boiled over. “Thoma this, Thoma that. Hello, Thoma! Goodbye, Thoma! I’m sick of you saying his name! What about me?” he shouted, his voice thick with frustration and hurt. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the sting of his words. The truth was, this hurt you as much as it hurt him. You desperately wanted to make amends with the man you loved…but he chose her over you. And you couldn’t risk losing your necklace, not after losing the most important thing in your life.

“Oh, now you’re not gonna speak to me again? Great. Go ahead, ignore me then. I’ve never seen you act this way before, and quite frankly, I don’t care for it,” Ayato said, his frustration pushing you over the edge. You turned around, eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t get to speak to me like a child! Not after how you treated me during our fight!” you yelled back. “You’re still on about that? That was months ago! Get over it!” he shouted.

“Get over it? How am I supposed to just get over someone who I thought was my best friend—no, the love of my life—believe some girl he barely knows over me! You know the girl who has always been there for you since day one!” you shouted, not realizing you had just confessed to him. His eyes widened at your words. You… loved him? Suddenly, he felt his heart flutter in ways Kanaka never could make it. Kanaka looked furious.

You continued, “Ever since the incident with your parents, I’ve been there for you. I made sure you had someone to sleep next to when you were afraid, I lent you my shoulder to cry on when you needed it, I gave up my happiness for you so you could be happy with this… woman you call your girlfriend!” 

“Y/N…” he started, but you cut him off. “But even after all that, it still wasn’t enough for you. I will never be enough for you. I can’t compete with her beauty, her knowledge, her strength—everything! She will always have the upper hand.” Did you really think you were nothing compared to Kanaka? Oh how wrong you were. In his mind, no one could compare to you. Everything about you was unique and special to him.

“Y/N, you’ve got it all wrong—”

“But one thing is for sure. I have more love for you than she ever will. And if you think I enjoy ignoring you, then you don’t know me at all because I’ve been dreading it!” “Then why are you doing it?” he asked, desperate for an answer. “Tell me why!” “Because you chose her over me! And if I get close to you, that necklace she has will be destroyed! I already lost you; I can’t lose that too!” you yelled, making him look down at Kanaka.

For the first time, he saw the malice in her eyes. She grabbed the necklace and held it high. “No! Stop!” you cried, trying to run towards her. “Ah, ah, ah! One more step and this is gone!” she shouted. “You will walk away, and once you’re gone, I’ll send it to you. But I don’t want you around Ayato anymore. Is that clear?” she demanded, making Ayato furious. “Now wait just a second. Y/N will not—”

“Fine,” you interrupted, making him look at you in disbelief. “If I leave Ayato for good, you promise to give me the necklace back?” you asked. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. You’d leave me just for your necklace?” he asked, heartbroken. “I have no other choice. You made your decision; now I have to deal with the consequences,” you replied, your voice cold. “Y/N, stop. I don’t like hearing you say that—”

“I don’t care, Ayato. We’re done. It’s over. When you chose her over me, all my feelings for you vanished,” you lied. “You don’t mean that—” “Oh, I mean every word,” you said, glaring at Kanaka. “I’m leaving. That necklace better be at my place within a week,” you demanded, turning to leave. Kanaka smirked and let go of the necklace, letting it fall.

Ayato, Thoma, and you watched as it fell. Ayato suddenly pushed Kanaka away and ran towards it, but it was too late. The delicate necklace shattered on the hard floor. You cried out, scrambling to gather the pieces, tears streaming down your face. “Guards! Seize this woman!” Ayato yelled. A group of large men grabbed Kanaka.

“What!? You can’t do this! I am Kanaka!” she screamed, but they ignored her and threw her out of Ayato’s home. He looked down at your broken figure, his heart aching. He knew how important that necklace was to you, and it was his fault it broke. He heard you sniffle and tried to kneel down to help, but you pushed him away with hatred in your eyes. “Go away! Just get away from me! I don’t want to be around you, and I don’t want your help! You’ve done enough damage!” you yelled, your voice breaking.

“Y/N, I just—”

“No! Stop talking!” you screamed, rising to your feet, the broken pieces still in your hand. You started to walk out. Ayato felt tears well up in his eyes. “Y/N! Come back—” 

“I never want to see you again! It would be best if you just disappeared from my life,” you said, slamming the gate shut as you left. Ayato’s tears fell as he knelt to the ground, a severe pain in his heart. “Y/N…I-I’m so sorry…” he whispered, realizing he had lost the true love of his life.

┗━━━━━━⊱ 𝑷𝒕. 𝑰𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 <3333 ⊰━━━━━━┛

[gainingfiction]

Heavily Used

Summary: This is a bit experimental (or weird), and maybe a bit predictable, but I had fun writing it. This is a story about an important relationship in a fat guy’s life, and the risk of taking things for granted. It’s also a story about coping (or not coping) with change.

Hope you enjoy!

~

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I can only handle so much. It’s one thing to be taken for granted, that’s something we all have to live with. It’s just the total lack of acknowledgment, or even awareness that I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. I swear, one of these days, I’m just gonna snap and call it quits.

A little bit about me: I’m stylish, polished, and pretty easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself. Born in Poland, but my background is Swedish—I’m European, at heart. The name is Anders, but no one actually calls me that. I’m not super high-maintenance, once you figure me out, but everyone needs a little attention from time to time. Some tending.

Especially living with Max.

I’ve known Max for a while, and he’s not a bad guy. He can be a little rough sometimes, and maybe a little careless, but it doesn’t come from a bad place. I think it’s just a lack of self-awareness. And let’s be honest, that’s a common problem among pretty-boy jocks.

The trouble with Max is that he’s not the pretty-boy I once knew. He’s changed… he’s grown. I mean, he’s literally grown. Grown by about a hundred pounds, if I had to guess, and counting. Over the course of our time together, I’ve gotten pretty familiar with his ass, and I’ll admit, it’s a great one. But, boy, he’s got a lot more ass for me to handle these days.

It’s not insurmountable, not yet at least. But I’m worried it’s getting there.

It started out simply enough, the innocent midnight snacks and occasional takeout treats. No problem, right? Twunks can afford to indulge a little, especially a hot commodity like Max. But then, you get comfortable. You settle into a routine, you let yourself go. That’s the thing about creatures of beauty: one minute you’re the hottest guy in town, trim and toned, with a golden tan and handsome face and perfect, silky hair. The sort of guy who only seems to exist in a Hollywood version of reality. But then, inevitably, something happens. Sometimes tastes change, or maybe you’re the one doing the changing.

I won’t deny, I’m not in the same shape I was when I entered Max’s life for the first time. Any long-term relationship comes with the normal wear-and-tear. Max, though, has taken it to a whole new level.

The little snacks become big snacks. The extra meals go from “occasional” to “frequent” to “everyday”. Gluttony takes over. A 32-inch waist becomes a 36-inch waist becomes a 40-inch waist; size-small shirts are discarded in the back of the closet, soon joined by ill-fitting mediums, and then by larges, stretched out of shape by a gut that won’t stop getting bigger. Max used to flit around the apartment like a bird; now he lumbers like an elephant, heavy footfalls and a slow, waddling gait. His own warning system—you can hear him coming.

On paper, I know I should be trying to help lighten the load. And it’s not like I’m totally unappreciated; there are days when he comes home from work, legs tired and arms loaded down with takeout, and I can tell he’s genuinely happy to have me. But it doesn’t last long. Once dinner’s over, I’m back to being ignored while he sits on the couch, gorging himself in front of the TV, until he comes around again to stuff his face at the next meal. Which, to be fair, is pretty often these days.

It sounds cruel, the way I talk about his escalating weight, his increasingly-indecent greed. I’m not trying to be mean. I just wish he’d consider how it might affect me. I have to live with him, and he’s starting to cramp my style. But it’s not like I can say anything. I just have to sit there in silence, while he eats and eats, grows and grows, piling on pound after excess pound. And the way he eats, moaning and licking and slurping… it’s downright pornographic.

250 starts to feel like a lowball as the months go by. He’s pushing me to my limits without even realizing it. I’ve never had to deal with a guy this fat before, a guy whose big, round bubble butt would hang over the side of even the most substantial chair. And I, personally, am not “substantial”. I’m pretty thin; it’s just how I was made. I thought Max was made that way, too.

I start trying to make my frustration known, but like I said, I can’t just come right out and say something. So I try a little subtlety; a small groan every now and then when he throws himself down at the dinner table for another round of hedonism. If he notices, he doesn’t care. He just keeps upping the ante.

And upping just about everything else: his pants size, his portion sizes, the size of his monster-truck ass and thunder thighs. They press together whenever he sits down, now, lard against blubber. Not like in the old days when his legs were lithe and lean. His moobs bulge against every tank top, his pudgy arms pack his sleeves, his love handles blossom over the top of every waistband like ripening tropical fruit.

In occasional moments of self-pity, I hazard a guess: how much does my man weigh now? 275 pounds? 300? Is he even trying to do something about it? Clearly not. He never works out anymore, unless you count working up a sweat over a third (or fourth, or fifth) slice of cheesecake. I honestly wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, just to spite me. Or test me. But I know that’s crazy—like I said, sometimes I truly doubt he even thinks about what it’s like for me.

But the problem is getting harder to ignore; he really throws his weight around these days. He heaves himself up off the couch. He rests a hand on the front of his bulging belly, barely restrained by some poor, threadbare top, back arching forward from the strain of it all (he’s not a tall guy, which makes his increasingly S-shaped silhouette even more pronounced). He trudges from the living room to the kitchen and drops himself in front of the table like an anvil. When he sits down, his ass, spilling out of some indecent pair of jean shorts, spreads out like lava blanketing some hapless Roman hamlet.

Some nights, I strain underneath him, feeling absolutely crushed by his sheer weight, boundless mass bearing down on me with the force of gravity. How big is he now? I wonder, as I listen to him moan and groan with pleasure. 325? 350? Could he really have gained over 200 pounds? How could he not realize what he’s doing to himself—what he’s doing to me?

He’s just so oblivious. I don’t even recognize him anymore. I’ve been starting to make noises about how uncomfortable I am, how much I’m struggling with his extra weight. But, as always, it falls on deaf ears. His tight little butt has become a pair of vast, ponderous globes, his abs and lats and obliques are encased in a spare tire that belongs on an 18-wheeler, his tits bulge out and dangle towards his armpits. And he just. Keeps. Going. 

Keeps eating. Keeps gaining. Keeps expanding.

Things reach a boiling point before dinner one night. I can see him piling up the table, unboxing some outrageous quantity of food for his secret nightly mukbang. Well, secret except for the consequences, which anyone with eyes could notice. “There’s a man who likes his food” would be such a trite, vapid observation that it doesn’t even need saying. He doesn’t just “like” his food, he lives for his food. Food is practically a part of Max’s identity at this point.

He’s starting to lower his colossal ass to sit, and I can tell this is it. Tonight’s the night. Fuck it, I’m done. He’s well past 350 pounds, and that’s too much weight for me to handle.

Maybe he’ll appreciate me more when I’m not around. Hejdå, Max, it was nice knowing you! At least, it used to be.

~

Max sat on the floor, rolls of fat still wobbling from the jarring motion of his fall. His chair had been complaining for a while now—squeaking and groaning every time he sat down—but he hadn’t expected it to actually break. What a load of bullshit! He wasn’t even that fat!

He looked around at the splintered wood, soreness radiating across his ass—and not in a fun, post-fucking kind of way. At least his buttocks were nicely-padded. When he was bony, a slip on the ice hurt like all hell.

He was glad he was alone, or this would have been super embarrassing. At least no one was around to see him smash that chair like a pro-wrestler in a grudge match. He knew he’d been overdoing it, but this wasn’t his fault. How could it be, surely he wasn’t that big? Just a little out of shape, in need of a few good workouts to shed some winter weight. It was just the cheap IKEA furniture he bought.

With a grunt, he started the process of heaving his monumental form to a stand. As he started to gather his momentum, he glanced at the ruined seat and frowned. He actually liked that chair. It was pretty comfortable.

At least, it used to be.

(Author’s Note: don’t forget to rotate your dining chairs!)

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase:

Entangled Threads and Hidden Allures

It was a calm afternoon, enveloped in the fleeting scent of cherry blossoms.

I couldn't help but call out to Prince Kagari as he passed by.

Emma: "Prince Kagari, do you have the day off today?"

Kagari: "Yeah, how did you know?"

Emma: "You're not wearing your usual clothes."

Kagari: "Ah, I see. You haven't seen this yet, have you? I often wear these when I'm not at official or social events."

(So his casual clothes look like this. They look comfortable.)

Unlike his usual refined and elegant attire, today he wore something more relaxed, in a subdued color with a looser fit and an open collar.

Maybe it was because I'd always seen him looking so polished, but I found Prince Kagari’s casual look a bit cute.

(Even though it's just a change of clothes, it feels like I'm seeing a new side of him.)

Kagari: "…"

Suddenly, our eyes met, and for some reason, Prince Kagari spread his arms and spun around on the spot.

Kagari: "Since you were staring, I’ll give you a little show, Curious Princess."

Emma: "Um… thank you?"

(Actually, I was just admiring how he looks in that outfit, but it's kind of embarrassing to say it out loud.)

Kagari: "So, were you here under the cherry blossoms, enjoying a quiet little flower viewing by yourself?”

Emma: "Yes. I was also practicing cat’s cradle a little while ago."

Kagari: "Cat’s cradle?"

I picked up the looped red string resting on my lap.

Emma: "Your aide, Shigure, taught me how to do it. He said I might get bored just looking at the flowers."

Emma: "He even gave me this string."

Kagari: "…Really."

(…Huh?)

Kagari: "That string is usually used to tie up packages at a confectionery shop. Looks like he gave you some trash."

Emma: "Tra–"

Kagari: "Don’t take it too seriously; I was half-joking. I often use that string for cat’s cradle myself too."

(I think his words might be true though… I DID notice that Shigure had some snacks with him.)

Kagari: "How many patterns have you learned?"

Emma: "Three! May I show you?"

Kagari: "Sure, go ahead."

He sat down in front of me with his legs crossed the unexpected closeness making me stiffen.

Prince Kagari sometimes has an odd sense of personal space.

(I don’t think he’s like this with anyone else, though...)

Trying to stay calm, I spread the string, recalling the steps as I began to create each shape.

Emma: "The first one is... a cradle!"

Kagari: "A cradle, huh."

Emma: "Next... this is a rice field!"

Kagari: "A rice field."

Emma: “And now… the jewel… um, let me see...”

Kagari: "…Your pinkies."

Emma: “Oh, right! Hook the pinkies… release the thumbs… and it’s a jewel!”

Kagari: “You pass.”

Kagari: "But you look tired Princess, even though you’re just playing cat’s cradle."

Emma: “I don’t usually use my fingers this much, so it’s actually a good workout.”

Kagari: “They say cat’s cradle is a great exercise for both the fingers and the mind.”

Kagari: “Your movements are still a bit clumsy, but you did well for your first time.”

(It makes me so happy to be praised by Prince Kagari …)

Kagari: “The next trick after the jewel is the drum. Want to give it a try?”

Emma: “I’d love to!”

When I nodded, Prince Kagari touched my hands and began to move his fingers slowly, making it easy for me to follow along.

Kagari: "Keep the shape as it is. First, move only your thumbs and slip them into the gap under your pinkies."

Emma: "…Okay."

(Oh… since he's not wearing his usual outfit, he's also not wearing gloves today.)

His hands, normally hidden by gloves, were surprisingly large, easily enveloping mine. They were firm, bony, and warm—enough to make me fully aware of him as a man, causing heat to rise to my cheeks.

(I need to focus since he’s teaching me.)

Kagari: “—Finally, hook the opposite string around your pinky and open your hands.”

Emma: “...There! I did the drum!”

Kagari: "Your finger movements were smooth. A gold star for you."

As Prince Kagari released my hands, I felt a strange, fleeting sadness—though it was probably just my imagination.

Kagari: "Are you feeling more tired than before, Princess?"

Emma: "It's probably because it was my first time trying the drum."

Emma: "Cat’s cradle is really fun. It helps improve my dexterity, and seems like a good way to sharpen my concentration."

Emma: “I heard that most of the children in Kougyoku know how to play cat’s cradle. Did you play it a lot too, Prince Kagari?”

Kagari: “...Yeah. My brother taught me.”

His gaze suddenly shifted toward the drum made of red string. His emerald-green eyes seemed to waver slightly, as if reminiscing about something.

(Kougyoku’s territory is roughly divided into three factions.)

(Prince Kagari and his brother belonged to different factions, if I remember correctly.)

(I don’t know how things are between them now, but I wonder if they used to be close brothers in the past.)

Kagari: “Princess, did you know that cat’s cradle can be played with two people?”

Emma: “Yes, I played together with Shigure earlier.”

Kagari: “...Is that so?”

Emma: (...?)

Kagari: “What about with me?”

(Does he want to play?)

Emma: “If you’re willing, I’d love to.”

Kagari: “Let’s do it.”

(So he DID want to play.)

(I understand the feeling, though. Childhood games can make you feel so nostalgic when you play them again.)

Seeing how much Prince Kagari enjoying cat’s cradle made me smile. We returned the string to a loop, and I created a suspension bridge, while Prince Kagari deftly made a rice field. Then I created a river, he made a boat, and as we continued to take turns—

(What… is this?)

Kagari: “What’s wrong, Princess? Did you forget the next step?”

Emma: “I’m sorry, I thought the next pattern would be the jewel, but the shape looks different, so I don’t know how to continue…"

(It looks like it could be a rice field or a net, but it’s slightly different. I’ve never seen this shape before.)

Kagari: “If you don’t know, that’s fine. First, pinch the ends of the string.”

Emma: “Got it.”

Kagari: “Now, insert your hands into the gap in the middle, up to your wrists.”

Emma: “Alright, done.”

Kagari: “Next, I’ll pull the string from one hand and use the other to tug the string hooked around your middle finger.”

Kagari: “That way, both of your hands will be tied together.”

Emma: “Wow! It really worked!”

(...Wait--)

I never expected to go from playing cat’s cradle to being tied up like a captive.

Prince Kagari hooked his finger around the string and gently pulled me closer.

Kagari: “If you let your guard down too much in front of a man, you’ll find yourself bound and helpless in an instant. Remember that.”

Emma: "Sure… but I only let my guard down because it's you, Prince Kagari. I don't do this with anyone else."

Kagari: "…I see. Only with me, huh?"

Kagari: "Good, then. Don’t forget that feeling in the future."

(Did his mood just improve a little? His expression didn’t change, so maybe it's just my imagination.)

Emma: "So, how do I get out of this…?"

Kagari: "Think of it as practice for the future and try untying it yourself. It’s not tied too tightly."

(I’ll give it a try, but…. I hope I never need this skill in the future.)

Thankfully, the knot wasn’t too tight, and under Prince Kagari’s watchful eye, I managed to untie it. He clapped his hands in applause, though I wasn’t sure if I should be happy about it.

(Was I really that careless…?)

But I didn’t want to end things just like that—

Emma: "Prince Kagari, can we play one more time?"

Kagari: "Sure."

We returned to making the suspension bridge, then the rice field, river, and boat, alternating turns with the string—

(This is it…!)

Seizing the moment, I tied Prince Kagari’s hands together with the string. My tying was a bit of a mess, but it seemed tight enough that it would take a while to untangle.

Kagari: "…"

Emma: "Ha! That was payback for earlier."

Emma: "Now, you’ll have to untie yourself—whoa!?"

Kagari: "Untie myself… What? I didn’t quite catch that. Could you say that again?"

(He’s… so close!)

With his bound hands, he brought them behind my head and pulled me closer to him. The distance between us made it hard to even breathe, and my heart pounded furiously.

(Prince Kagari … seems to be enjoying this. Even more than when we were playing cat’s cradle.)

His green eyes, tinged with joy and a trace of heat, were so captivating that I couldn’t look away, despite wanting to escape. Whenever I moved, his grip tightened, further restricting my freedom.

Kagari: "Come on, if you don’t say it, we’ll stay like this forever. I don’t mind that, though."

Emma: "I’m sorry! I got carried away. I’ll treat you to as many dorayaki as you want, so please let me go."

Kagari: "Denied. You don’t have enough money for that."

(A man with a bottomless stomach for dorayaki!)

As our foreheads lightly touched, my heart practically leaped out of my chest. If anyone saw us like this, they would definitely get the wrong idea.

Kagari: "Your so flustered just from our faces being close. It’s cute, Princess."

Emma: "P-Please stop teasing me."

Kagari: "I’m not teasing you."

Kagari: "…But I was a little jealous."

Even though I kept trying to escape, he never let me go, and—

On that day, I firmly swore to never try to get back at Prince Kagari again.

▼・ᴥ・▼

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 6

SUMMARY: What starts as a casual dinner invitation turns into an unforgettable evening filled with candid conversation, stolen glances, and a spark neither of you can deny. As Glen opens up about his busy life and surprising feelings, you both realize that maybe, just maybe, there’s something worth exploring between you.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5

WARNINGS: Implied alcohol consumption. Otherwise just fluff.

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You’re scrolling through emails, catching up on work notes for the next day, when your phone buzzes unexpectedly. Glen’s name flashes on the screen. A call, not a text. A call from Glen. You pause, your stomach flipping a little as you answer.

“Hey there,” his voice is warm and casual, yet somehow it carries a hint of hesitation.

“Hi, Glen.” You try to keep your tone steady, but you can’t help the little spark of excitement.

There’s a short pause on his end, then, “So, I was wondering… would you like to grab dinner tonight?” His words come out in a slightly rushed, almost nervous tone like he’s throwing the offer out before he second-guesses himself. “I thought it’d be nice to get out of the hotel for a bit. What do you think?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Dinner? Just… the two of us?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice now. “Just us. If you’re up for it, I can pick you up around seven?”

Your mind races. It feels like a date—the tone, the way he’s asking—but he hasn’t exactly said it is a date. There’s an unspoken question in the air, one you’re almost afraid to answer too quickly. But the warmth of his voice draws you in, the idea of spending time with him outside of work too tempting to pass up.

“Sure,” you finally say, trying to sound as calm as possible. “I’d like that.”

“Perfect. What room are you in? I’ll come by and grab you,” he says, and the ease in his tone gives you a little more confidence. You tell him your room number, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“Great, I’ll see you at seven,” he says, and you can almost picture his grin on the other end of the line. “And, uh… no rush or anything, but wear whatever you’re comfortable in. I’m just excited to spend some time together.”

You end the call, setting your phone down as you let out a deep breath. A soft smile spreads across your face. Whether it’s a date or not, it feels like something more. You’re already thinking about what to wear, feeling a little thrill at the idea of the evening to come.

You stand in the bathroom, brushing the last bit of blush across your cheeks. Your reflection looks back at you, polished yet understated, with soft, loose waves falling just past your shoulders. You wanted to go for a look that felt natural—something effortless but still flattering, that would hopefully mask the nerves buzzing just below the surface.

Taking a small step back, you take in the whole outfit, from the fitted black turtleneck top down to the skirt you’ve chosen. It’s a soft, flowy piece with a black base, decorated with a delicate pattern in muted red and dusty pink. The colors are subtle but add just enough contrast to make the outfit feel a little special. The high-waisted cut gives you a smooth silhouette, and the gentle flare of the skirt swishes lightly when you move, giving it an elegance that feels comfortable, not overdone.

You smooth your hands over the skirt’s fabric, fingers lingering as you imagine Glen’s reaction. There’s a thrill in that thought that catches you off guard, sparking another wave of butterflies.

You glance down at your black, closed-toe ankle-strap heels, adjusting the strap one last time. They’re comfortable enough to walk in but add that finishing touch, elevating the outfit without making it feel too dressed up. You take a step back, eyes returning to your reflection, feeling the weight of anticipation settle in.

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the rush of thoughts swirling through your mind. It feels silly, standing here getting so worked up, but something about this night feels different. Special even. 

There’s a part of you that wants to know exactly what he’s thinking if he’s as aware of this shift between you as you are. You can feel it—the quiet thrill of wondering where the evening will lead, what might unfold beyond the ordinary moments you’ve shared on set.

With one last steadying breath, you nod to your reflection, silently telling yourself, You’ve got this. You pick up your clutch, adjust your hair one last time, and head to the door, ready to see what tonight might bring.

The knock pulls you from your thoughts, making your heart skip a beat. You smooth down your skirt, take a steadying breath, and walk to the door. As you open it, Glen stands before you, leaning casually against the doorframe with a soft smile that sends another ripple of nerves through you.

He’s dressed simply but so effortlessly put together. His caramel-brown, short-sleeve ribbed polo fits him just right, the collar slightly open at the neckline, adding a relaxed charm to his look. The warm tones suit him, accentuating the natural tan of his skin, while his light beige trousers complete the ensemble in a way that feels both casual and sophisticated—perfectly in sync with the easygoing confidence he seems to radiate.

Glen’s eyes sweep over you for a brief second, taking in your outfit with a look of quiet admiration that he doesn’t try to hide. “Wow,” he says, voice low and genuine. “You look great.”

You feel your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the directness of his compliment. “Thank you,” you reply, managing a small smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He laughs, an easy, relaxed sound that breaks the tension in the air. 

“Ready?” he asks, motioning for you to lead the way as you step out of your room and let the door click shut behind you. You feel his hand move to your lower back. His fingers, are warm and steady, and it’s such a small gesture, yet it somehow heightens the electric thrill of the moment.

As you walk toward the elevators, the conversation flows effortlessly, dipping in and out of lighthearted topics and banter. There’s something different in the air tonight—an unspoken awareness between you, as if each of you senses that this dinner might mean more than either has put into words.

In the elevator, there’s a comfortable silence, but every now and then, you feel Glen glance your way, and when you finally meet his eyes, he chuckles, slightly sheepish. “Sorry. I’m still kind of stunned that you said yes,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

You laugh softly, looking down as you speak. “I don’t usually get asked out by my… clients? Coworkers?” You raise an eyebrow, playfully struggling with the right word.

“Yeah, maybe we should just call it co-workers,” Glen jokes, nudging you gently with his shoulder as the elevator doors open.

The two of you step into the lobby, and as you catch sight of the small crowd gathered just outside the glass doors, nerves flutter in your stomach. A few fans, mixed with paparazzi, wait with cameras ready, and the sight of flashing lights makes your pulse quicken.

Glen notices your reaction and looks down at you, his warm, steady gaze bringing you a bit of comfort.

He extends his arm with a reassuring smile. “Just stay close to me—I’ve got you.”

You loop your arm through his, grateful for the support as the two of you step towards the exit. Glen takes the lead, guiding you through the revolving doors. The noise swells as you step outside, the murmurs and clicking cameras growing louder. Your instinct is to keep your head down, focusing on each step to make sure you don’t trip in your heels.

“Hey, Glen!” a fan calls, and he lifts his free hand to wave, offering a friendly smile in response. You feel the press of the crowd around you tighten, and as the paparazzi lean in with cameras, one of them inches closer to you.

Suddenly, your hand slips from Glen’s elbow, making you instinctively pull back. Glen glances over his shoulder, quickly catching sight of you just a step behind. Without a second thought, he reaches back, his hand finding yours and pulling you closer. The gesture is so natural, but it feels grounding, like an anchor in the whirlwind of people and flashing lights around you.

“Could you guys give us a little space?” he says, his tone polite but firm as he shields you from the encroaching cameras. His hand is warm and steady around yours, and you find yourself focusing on that touch as he guides you forward, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.

He steers you toward a sleek, black rental car waiting at the curb. Still holding your hand, he lets go only to open the passenger door, stepping slightly in front of you to shield you from the cameras. Once you’re safely inside, he closes the door and walks around to the driver’s side, brushing off the crowd’s lingering attention with an air of calm.

As he slips into the driver’s seat, he glances over at you, a small, reassuring smile on his face. “You good?” he asks, his voice softening now that it’s just the two of you again.

You give Glen a warm smile, nodding in response to his question. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for the rescue back there.” You manage a small laugh, still a little breathless from the experience outside, but grateful for his steadying presence.

“Anytime,” he replies, flashing you a smile as he starts the car, his gaze briefly flickering to you before he pulls out onto the road. The city lights stream past as the quiet hum of the car settles you, the fast-paced energy of the crowd outside fading with each block.

“So, I hope you’re in the mood for Italian,” Glen says, his voice casual but with a hint of excitement. “I found this place not too far from the hotel that everyone’s been raving about. Figured it was worth a try.”

Your face lights up at the mention of Italian food, and you nod eagerly. “Italian is always a good idea. And if it’s somewhere you’ve heard great things about, then I’m definitely in.”

He chuckles, giving a satisfied nod. “Glad to hear it. Thought I’d try and make a solid impression,” he teases lightly.

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Oh? So is this you pulling out all the stops?”

“Just a few of them,” he admits, his eyes twinkling as he glances over at you. “Gotta keep some surprises up my sleeve.”

The relaxed, warm atmosphere inside the car makes your nerves start to dissolve, replaced by the fluttery anticipation of what the rest of the night might bring.

As Glen pulls up to the restaurant, the warm glow of the exterior lights welcomes you. He parks smoothly and shifts into park before turning to you with a bright smile. “Ready for a great meal?” he asks, his excitement evident.

“Absolutely,” you reply, your own anticipation bubbling up as you glance at the charming exterior.

He steps out and walks around the car, opening the door for you.

“After you,” he says, extending a hand to help you out. You take his hand, feeling a spark at the touch as he gently guides you out onto the sidewalk.

Glen hands the keys to the valet, then rests his hand on your lower back as he leads you toward the entrance. The feel of his touch sends another flutter of nerves through you, but it’s a comforting sensation amidst the excitement.

Inside, the restaurant is cozy and inviting, filled with the rich aroma of garlic and herbs. The dim lighting casts a soft glow over the elegant decor, with wooden beams overhead and warm, rustic tables that give the place a homey feel. You can hear the soft clink of glasses and the quiet hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional laughter from nearby tables.

The hostess greets you with a warm smile and checks the reservation list. “Right this way,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her.

As you walk through the restaurant, you notice the decor—framed photographs of Italy lining the walls, lush green plants peeking from every corner, and soft Italian music playing in the background.

She leads you to a somewhat private table nestled in the back, away from the hustle and bustle. Glen reaches for your chair, pulling it out for you with a charming smile. “Ladies first,” he says, and you can’t help but blush slightly as you take your seat.

After you settle in, the hostess hands each of you a menu. As you both peruse the menus, the ambiance of the restaurant wraps around you like a warm embrace. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows, and the tantalizing aromas from the kitchen make your stomach growl softly.

“I think we should start with an appetizer,” you suggest, tapping the menu lightly. “What do you think about Bruschetta or maybe Caprese?”

Glen’s eyes widen slightly, and he shifts in his seat, giving you a nervous look. “Uh, about that…” he hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have this weird thing about cheese. I don’t really eat it.”

You blink in surprise for a moment but quickly brush it off with a smile. “That’s okay! How about we go with something else then? Stuffed Mushrooms, maybe?”

Glen looks visibly relieved but hesitates again, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face. “Are you sure it’s not weird that I don’t like cheese?”

“Not at all,” you assure him, leaning forward slightly. “Everybody has something unusual they don’t like. It’s what makes us human.”

He nods a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “Okay, then what’s your weird or unusual thing you don’t like?”

You chuckle lightly, enjoying the playful banter. “Well, I’m allergic to agave, so I don’t drink tequila. It’s not that I don’t like it; I just can’t.”

Glen feigns a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over his heart. “Oh no, this thing between us might not go well if I can’t share tequila with you!” He laughs, the sound bright and infectious, and you can’t help but join in.

“Maybe you’ll just have to find a different drink to buy me,” you suggest, your heart feeling lighter with every moment shared.

“Perfect!” Glen grins, his previous nervousness fading as the conversation flows naturally. “It sounds like we’ll still have a great time, even without the cheese and tequila drama.”

As the laughter continues, you feel the initial butterflies settle into a comfortable rhythm, excited to learn more about each other as the evening unfolds.

As the waitress arrives to take your appetizer order, Glen’s energy seems to spike, and he leans in slightly, excitement shining in his eyes. 

“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you about a couple of projects I’ve signed on for. One’s a romantic comedy! Can you believe it?” His voice carries a hint of incredulity, and you can’t help but grin at his enthusiasm.

“I can totally believe it,” you reply, feeling a rush of excitement for him. “I thought you were great in Anyone But You and Set It Up, so I’m sure you’ll do amazing in this next one!”

Glen’s eyes widen in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. “Wait, you’ve seen those? Really?”

You chuckle, feeling a bit sheepish. “I might be a little partial to a good rom-com.”

“Then you’ll love this one!” he says, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“What’s it about?” You ask, genuinely thrilled for him.

“It’s about a guy who has to fake a relationship with his childhood friend to convince his family that he’s settled down. It’s got a lot of heart and some hilarious moments.” He chuckles, rubbing his hands together as if he can hardly contain his excitement.

You nod, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm wash over you. “That’s fantastic! I can already picture you in it.” Then you remember the offer you received a few days ago, a flutter of nerves mixing with excitement. “Speaking of projects, I actually got an offer for a role last week. It’s a lead hair and makeup position for a new Nextflix  drama series that’s going to start filming next month.”

Glen’s eyes widen with genuine happiness. “Really? That’s incredible! I knew you’d get something big soon. You deserve it!” He leans back in his chair, a broad smile spreading across his face. The way he celebrates your success makes your heart flutter. It’s rare to find someone who is not only talented but also genuinely supportive of others.

“It’s still in the early stages, but I’m really excited about it,” you say, your voice brimming with enthusiasm as you share the details. “The story revolves around family dynamics, and I get to work with some pretty big names. I can’t wait to start!”

“That’s amazing! I can already see you nailing it,” he replies, the admiration in his voice clear. “I mean, you’re already so talented, and I can’t imagine how great you’ll be in something like that. Have you met any of the cast yet?”

You shake your head, feeling the adrenaline of both excitement and nerves. “Not yet! I’ll be meeting them for the first time in a few weeks once we wrap up filming this. I hope they’re as cool as they seem.”

“They will be,” Glen reassures you, his gaze steady and encouraging. “With your talent and charm, I bet you’ll fit right in. Just be yourself!”

His confidence in you is so uplifting, and as the conversation continues, there’s a seamless flow between the two of you, punctuated by laughter and shared stories. You find yourself reveling in this moment, feeling a connection grow deeper, not just over shared experiences but also in the way he genuinely seems to care about your success. It feels effortless, and you’re grateful for the lighthearted atmosphere, the way you can both share and celebrate your journeys with one another.

As your conversation continues to flow seamlessly, the waitress returns to the table, her notepad ready. “Are you two ready for the check?” she asks, glancing between the two of you.

Glen nods, a relaxed smile on his face. “Yes, please. Is it going to be one check or two?”

“One check,” he replies without hesitation, a hint of confidence in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a spark of protest. “Wait, are you sure? I can chip in my part. It was my suggestion to get the stuffed mushrooms, after all.”

Glen shakes his head firmly, a playful glint in his eyes. “No way. You’re my guest tonight. Let me treat you.”

You cross your arms playfully, trying to feign indignation. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you!”

“Trust me, you’re not,” he insists, leaning back slightly and folding his arms with a smile. “Just let me do this.”

With a reluctant sigh, you finally relent, your lips curving into a small smile. “Fine, but only if I can treat you next time.”

Glen grins, the light in his eyes growing brighter. “Deal.”

As the waitress sets down the check, Glen quickly reaches for it, pulling out his card with a triumphant flourish. You watch, amused, as he takes care of the payment, your initial protest fading into a sense of warmth at his gesture.

As the dinner draws to a close, you stand up from the table, feeling the slight rush of excitement that comes with the end of a wonderful dinner. Glen moves closer, his hand reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers effortlessly. A warm flutter runs through you as he leads you toward the exit, his touch grounding and reassuring.

Once outside, you both pause near the valet station, and his hand finds its way to your lower back once more. You glance up to find him smiling down at you, his expression genuine. 

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he says, the warmth in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

You return the smile, feeling a lightness in your chest. “I’m glad I came too. This was... really nice.”

The valet arrives with Glen’s car, and as he takes the keys, he glances back at you. “So, are you ready to go back to the hotel? Or if you’re up for it, I was thinking we could grab a drink somewhere nearby. There’s a place I’ve been too that’s really good not far from here.”

A drink sounds nice, a perfect way to extend the evening just a little longer. You nod, a smile creeping onto your face. “A drink sounds great.”

“Awesome. Let’s go!” he replies, his excitement contagious as he opens the car door for you. You slip inside, feeling a mix of anticipation and comfort as the evening unfolds before you, knowing that the night isn’t quite over yet.

Arriving at the bar, Glen parks and comes around to open your door. You’re both laughing as you step onto the sidewalk when a small group of fans spots him, excitement sparking in their expressions. A few call his name, while others shyly approach, asking for pictures. 

He turns to you, clearly torn between spending time with you and not wanting to disappoint them. You smile, placing a hand on his arm. “Go ahead, Glen. I’ll head inside and grab us a table. Take your time.”

His shoulders relax as he gives a nod, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thanks. I won’t be long.” 

You share a quick smile before turning and making your way through the bar’s entrance, sneaking one last look back to see him greeting fans and posing for pictures.

Inside, the place is cozy with warm lighting, chatter filling the space as groups of friends and couples laugh around tables and booths. Towards the back, you spot a secluded booth that seems perfect, and you settle in just as a waitress comes by with a drink menu.

“Just a water for now, thanks,” you say with a polite smile, skimming the menu and glancing toward the door now and then. The comfortable ambiance of the bar mixed with the anticipation of the evening fills you with a relaxed excitement as you wait for Glen to join you, eager to see where the night leads next.

A few minutes pass, and then you spot Glen stepping inside the bar. His gaze scans the room briefly before landing on you, and a smile tugs at his lips as he heads over. Sliding into the booth beside you, he settles close enough for his knee to brush yours under the table, a comfortable closeness that brings warmth to the quiet corner.

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” he says with a wink, picking up the menu.

You smile back, feeling the flutter in your stomach return as the two of you start looking through the drink options together. The waitress soon returns, and you both place your orders before she leaves again, leaving you and Glen alone in the soft, dim lighting.

For a moment, there’s a shared, content silence between you as he leans back, looking completely at ease, his arm draped casually along the booth. He looks at you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that surprises you, and he lets out a small breath before speaking.

“I’ll be honest,” he begins, his voice softer than before. “I wasn’t really looking to get into a relationship. I didn’t think I had the time…or really the right lifestyle for it with everything going on. Between filming, traveling, and all these upcoming projects—I just thought it would be too complicated, you know?”

You nod, sensing the weight behind his words, and he continues, his hand moving absently along the edge of the table.

“But with you…” He pauses, meeting your gaze directly, a small smile creeping up as he says, “I don’t know, it just feels different. Like maybe it could work if we both want it to. I really like you, and I’d like to see where this could go.”

A mix of excitement and nerves bubbles up in you, and you find yourself nodding. “I really like you too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “And to be honest, I’m a little scared to put myself out there. But…being around you just feels right.”

Glen’s expression softens, and he reaches to cover your hand with his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe we don’t have to put a label on it just yet. We can take it slow and keep it just between us for now—see where things go.”

You smile, feeling warmth spread through you at his words. “I’d like that.”

The drive back to the hotel is quiet, both of you savoring the comfortable silence that’s settled between you. Glen occasionally glances over, a subtle smile pulling at his lips every time your eyes meet. When he finally parks, he walks around to open your door, taking your hand as he leads you back inside and up to your room.

Outside your door, you turn to him with a smile, feeling a bit breathless from the night. “Thank you for such a great time tonight,” you say, your voice soft.

He smiles, moving just a little closer as his hand rests lightly on your hip, grounding you in the moment. “I should be the one thanking you. It’s been a while since I’ve had a night like this.” There’s a brief silence, and he looks at you, his eyes soft. “Would you want to do it again sometime?”

You feel your heart skip, and a smile spreads across your face. “I’d like that.”

For a second, you wonder if he’s about to say goodbye and head back down the hall. But then, with a warm, almost tentative look, he leans in. His lips meet yours in a soft, gentle kiss, one hand lifting to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek. You let your hand come up to rest against his chest, kissing him back as your eyes flutter closed, lost in the warmth and softness of the moment.

When he pulls back, there’s a look in his eyes that mirrors your own—a mixture of excitement and contentment, and the quiet promise of something more.

You both share a warm smile, the quiet energy between you lingering as Glen steps back, hands sliding into his pockets. You turn to your purse, reaching for your hotel room key card, when you feel him lean in once more. 

Before you can react, he brushes another gentle, lingering kiss to your lips, leaving you breathless all over again.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere, eyes meeting yours for one last moment. 

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you, and with a quiet, “Goodnight, Glen,” you slip inside, closing the door with your heart still racing, holding onto the sweetness of his kiss.

[hothothotch]

hotch requests, you say? How about our favourite unit chief embracing his feminine side a bit when jack gets teased at school for his painted nails. Hotch would 100% be the type of super supportive dad to rock some of his own in solidarity. I can see him wearing pink friendship bracelets under his cuff, or starting to sport more pink and purple ties etc, letting jack do his makeup on his days off.

And who can question him, when he levels them with his signature frown.

hey hello! Rome, I love you!!! this was so fun to write <3 i wasn't sure if you wanted something with reader in it, but i loved their friendship so i had to! hope you like it <3

Requests are open!

“You want me…” you pointed at yourself, your eyes slightly narrowed in confusion, even if there was a small — almost unnoticeable — smile on your face, “To paint your nails?”.

You expected Aaron to flinch, to double take his decision or to put a smile on his face and say something on the lines of ‘nah, I was just kidding’, but the only thing to cross his face as he gave you a single nod was resolution. Sincere, almost confusing (for you) resolution.

“Okay…” you whispered, your own pose faltering slightly as you pointed at the inside of your apartment, “I’ll just grab my things and see you at your apartment in five minutes?”.

“Sounds good” Aaron nodded again, this time his face changing into a more soft demeanor as he grabbed his wallet on his pocket, “How much-”.

“Don’t worry about it” you waved it off quickly, “Just tell me the story behind this decision and I’ll be happy”.

Aaron smiled gently at you, muttering a quiet ‘okay’ before he turned his back and walked to the apartment across the hallway — his own —, only closing the door halfway in a clear message that, when you wanted to go in, you could just open the door and make your way towards the living room where you spent a lot of your time.

You didn’t move when he disappeared behind the door, biting your bottom lip quizzically as you leaned against the doorframe, your mind losing itself into a whirlwind of questions. Questions you knew could only be answered by the person next door.

"Okay, then" you whispered one last time before quickly moving outside your home to grab your work material, double-checking if you had everything you needed before rummaging to his apartment.

Aaron was waiting for you in the living room, lost in a manila folder you didn't need to look at for long to know it belonged to his job (even if the FBI insignia was huge on the front); his concentration was immediately brought back to the real world when he heard the soft sound of your steps moving towards him, his eyes immediately darting up to look at you, his smile appearing once again as he immediately grabbed all the files on his coffee table, brushing them aside as he pointed at the empty seat in front of him, "I'll just put those in my office".

"Take your time" you replied, grabbing the first nail polish — a nude color — and placing it on the coffee table, "I'll just get everything settled".

Aaron didn't take long to return, and by the time he sat in front of you, his eyes studying the polishes curiously, you were already ready for your story and for the wild ride you knew this moment would be.

He might have noticed your excitement since he placed his hand in front of you almost immediately, not waiting for your cue to start his tale — and by the time he said his first word, you understood exactly what that was about.

"Jack was bullied last week because of his nails" he explained, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he averted his gaze from you. You weren't sure if he was ashamed or if he was sad — maybe both —, but you knew there was more to that story than he had said, so you only remained silent, "His teacher told me his friends were making comments because the nail polish was pink, and he'd been sad ever since".

"Oh!" you whispered, your eyes focused on Aaron's hand as you tried not to hurt him with the pliers, "Did she tell him not to paint his nails again?".

"It was very much implied" Aaron replied, and you looked up with a brow raised, "But she didn't use the words. She only stated that if he kept using those colors, female colors, as I came to understand, Jack was deemed to be bullied".

You hummed, your face contorted in displeasure, "And what did you say?".

Aaron shrugged, "That I'd talk to Jack, but if the boys had a problem with it, maybe they should be taught not to care about those things" he stopped for a moment, sighing heavily, "Unfortunately, that's not how all those boys are raised. It took me you to understand that".

You smiled proudly at his comment — at yourself.

You had been the person to paint Jack's nails the week before, even if he had been the one to ask for the pink color. At the occasion, it took Aaron a while (and a very long speech about gender and how colors had nothing to do with it) for him to agree that there wasn't a problem with Jack sporting pink nail polish.

The fact that he had to be convinced was exactly why you were a bit uneasy about his out-of-the-blue request.

"So you talked to Jack?" you asked, receiving a hum as response, "What did he say?".

Aaron gave you a funny look, a joking smile appearing on his face, "He gave me his own version of your gender and colors speech" he made a pause, and you couldn't help but laugh at that, "You've made quite an impression. But I'm happy he understood at least half of it. He said, 'Daddy, men wear pink and women wear blue and everything is okay', but I think this is as far as he understood".

"That's quite a lot, I didn't want him to understand a ten minutes speech on sexism" you returned his joke, exaggerating (you hoped) on how long your speech had gone on.

"He got the important part" he replied, offering one of the nail polishes to you, your eyes widening a bit at the purple color he had picked. Aaron probably noticed the look on your face, since he immediately cleared his throat, "I just thought nude wouldn't quite make a point".

You smiled in understanding, but you needed to hear it. If you were doing this for a major purpose, he might as well talk about it, "Which is?" you asked tenderly, showing that, no matter what, you'd be there with him.

"That I stand with Jack" he replied intensely, "No matter what".

Maybe you shouldn't have grinned as big as you did, but you didn't care. Not when you were sitting in front of Aaron Hotchner, purple nail polish in hands, pride bursting from you.

"Well, Agent Hotchner... then we should get started".

...

Aaron should've seen it coming.

Actually, he did see it coming — at the moment Jack got back home, his smile growing wide as he saw Aaron's purple nails, a wild rambling taking place as she talked eagerly with you about how much everyone at Aaron's work would love to see it.

They did. Penelope more than anyone.

JJ seemed to have understood the reason pretty quickly, not even questioning his motive as she took pictures of his nails. The rest of the team — who seemed to be having the best time of their lives — were supportive when he explained what happened, and Strauss (who happened to spend the whole week at the Bureau) hadn't made comments about it, but she was clearly not pleasured.

Aside from that, the murmurs and small chuckles he spotted weren't enough to unsettle him — and when they did, Aaron would only give the Agents a look, and suddenly his purple nails were the less important problem.

He stayed with the nail polish for three days before he knocked on your door, asking for the acetone to take it off, the corners already peeling.

"I have a meeting tomorrow" he explained, walking inside your house when you offered to remove it yourself, "I don't think it would look good".

You knew the meaning behind Aaron's words was that he didn't want to be seen in purple nails in a work meeting, so you didn't discuss it. It was one step at a time.

"What are the two of you doing here?".

Aaron knew by the grins on your and Jack's faces that he shouldn't have asked, that maybe the best option would've been just to brush it aside and ask you out for lunch, but he also knew that you never visited the Bureau (you believed there was a strict division between your workplace and personal life, so suddenly appearing at his job was a no-go), and the fact that you came in with Jack had him worried for a second before he saw the way Jack fidgeted with a small packaging on his hands.

"Jack and I were taking a walk when he saw something..." you started explaining, squeezing Jack's shoulder encouragingly, "And he wanted to give you a gift. Right, Jackers?".

Jack nodded shyly, offering the packaging to Aaron. It was small enough to fit his hand, and it's square and velveted blue surface reminded Aaron of a jewelry box — the ones that come with expensive rings; Aaron would've believed you and Jack spent a lot of money on it, if it wasn't for its touch (Aaron had bought enough expensive things to know that real velvet had a touch like any other).

"What is it, buddy?" Aaron asked, clearly interested in what was inside the box. When he finally opened it, a smile cracked on his face at the sight of the small — but not too small — pink and purple bracelets with your and Jack's initials in each one, "Those are so nice, buddy!".

"Yeah?" Jack asked, his eyes shining in sheer happiness, "We bought friendship bracelets! Here..." he showed his own bracelets, nudging you so you did the same, "Because you're my best friend, and now we're all best friends!".

Aaron looked up at you, and you could see the tears forming in his eyes before he pulled Jack for a tight hug, kissing his son's forehead before moving away to put on the bracelets, "Now we're best friends".

...

"Stop blinking, Daddy!".

You laughed at Jack's complaint, taking the eyeliner from his hands as you moved back to face Aaron, your legs crossed as you waved at him in a silent request for him to come closer, "Now, stop blinking or I'll pierce your eyes".

Aaron shuddered, cursing when he blinked once more, your eyes meeting his reprehensively — how in the hell was he able not to blink at work, but couldn't keep himself quiet while you put on some eyeliner in him.

It was honestly pathetic.

"And... done," you said happily, passing Jack a brush and an eyeshadow palette, "Pick a color, Jackers".

"Red!" Jack replied, pointing at the color before scrubbing the brush in it. You thought about telling him it would ruin the brush or the color, but he was so enthralled on it that you let it go — you could but a new one in the future, "Close your eyes, Daddy!".

Aaron did as told, and Jack waited patiently for your instructions before starting to pass it gently on his father's eyes, pouting whenever he stopped to analyze if it was good enough or if they needed any more makeup.

"Do you have glitter?" Jack questioned, looking up at you with hope in your eyes.

You smiled broadly, ready to say 'yes' when the doorbell rang, causing Aaron to open his eyes quickly, a silent plea in it — don't use glitter, for God's sake!

You smiled, patting on his knee assuringly. Maybe next time you could use glittler, but again, slow and steady wins the race.

"I think I forgot mine at home, Jackers" you replied, already standing up as you avoided Jack's slightly disappointed pout, "But I promise to bring it next time, okay? I'll see who's it on the door".

"Please, use the peephole" Aaron gave you a pointed look, aware of the fact that you very rarely used it, always opening up the door to whoever knocked on it.

You were almost sure there was a story behind it, but Aaron had never told him, and pressuring him to get answers wasn't something you were keen to do, so...

"Sure" you nodded, "I'll be right back".

"This isn't good enough..." Jack mumbled, "Close your eyes again, Daddy".

Aaron chuckled, closing his eyes once more as he listened to your voice in the hallway, trying to identify the newcomer's muffled voice to be ready for whoever it could possibly be.

"You got just in time, Dave" Aaron heard you say, and he almost cringed at David's name — it was better than being Derek, sure, but he was aware he'd never hear the end of it, "Jack just opened his own makeup business, we're lacking models".

Aaron opened one of his eyes (the one Jack wasn't passing the red eyeshadow) to look up at David, who had a smile on his face, "I see".

"Come here, Uncle Dave!" Jack waved quickly at the older man, and Aaron had to move out of the brush's way, not wanting it to hit his eyes. He saw when you tried to muffle a laugh, giving you a pointed look, "I'll put green eyeshadow in you!".

Dave exchanged a quick look between you and Aaron before smiling at Jack, shaking his head slightly, "I don't think I'll look as good as your Dad does, Jack" he said, but took a seat on the couch, his smirk not faltering when you moved to sit beside Jack again, Aaron offering his hand so you wouldn't fall, "But I'll let you three have fun".

"Hmmm..." you started, not letting go of Aaron's hand when you sat down, "Looks like someone needs to hear our speech, Jackers. What do you think?".

"Oh, I think you're right" Aaron replied, grabbing the eyeliner himself, "And while you speak, we can prepare Uncle Dave for Jack's great day, can't we?".

"We sure can!" You agreed immediately, moving to grab the glitter, "Oh, look what I found here!".

"Glitter!" Jack screamed happily, "Close your eyes, Uncle Dave".

"Yeah, Uncle Dave..." Aaron started, close your eyes.

That would be fun.

Thank you for your request ✨

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Keith, I need a favour.”

Keith stops in his tracks. Slowly, he sets down the helmets he’s holding, freeing his hands, then holds the phone out in front of him. He ponders it carefully.

“I could throw you into the sea,” he says to it. He does some quick calculations. If he drives to the nearest seafront now, he will be approximately twenty-three hours late to his date with Lance by the time he gets back. However, if he skips the fanfare and drops his phone into the disgusting oil-filled puddle right next to him, he can proceed to his date on schedule.

“Decisions, decisions,” he muses. Fanfare is important. Dropping his phone into a puddle is whatever. It’s derivative. But dropping his phone into the North Atlantic…now that is revolutionary.

“Fucksake. Keith,” sighs the voice coming from the phone. “If you don’t answer me, I am going to change the Netflix password.”

Keith frowns. “Hey.”

“Thank you,” says Shiro emphatically, “you brat.”

“Netflix is sacred,” Keith protests. “You can’t joke about the Netflix. I am a delicate orphan, Shiro. What will happen to me if my primary care figure breaks his promises? I’ll regress and act out and end up in prison. Do you want me to end up in prison?”

“A little, honestly.”

“Gasp, Shiro. Gasp. How dare.”

“I think you should consider a degree in the dramatic arts.”

“I think you should eat my farts.” Keith snickers. “Hey, that rhymed.”

Shiro sighs, long and loud, and Keith can practically see the smile twitching on his face. “Where did I go wrong. Truly. To think I tried to raise an upstanding young man, respectful to his elders, happy to help when needed. Shame that you’re a gremlin and a changeling.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Blah blah. Get to begging for my help. I have places to be, old man. A new jacket Adam bought me to wear in front of pretty people. Well, one pretty person. Anyways.”

“God, you’re whipped,” Shiro says, and Keith ignores that because if he doesn’t he’ll combust. “You and Lance going out?”

Keith tucks his phone between his ear and his shoulder, picking the helmets back up and continuing his walk to his bike. “Yep.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Dinner at Caribella. It’s an excuse for a ride, really. Maybe walk around downtown for a bit.”

“Sounds fun. How much more fun would it be with your little sister, huh?”

Keith stops for the second time. He can see Red maybe fifty metres away. He looks at her mournfully.

“So close,” he despairs quietly, then turns back to his phone. “Not super fun, Shiro. Since she’s, you know. A year old. And a date is something you traditionally do with your boyfriend. Alone.”

Shiro makes a weirdly strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a stressed croak. “Well! The thing is.”

Keith waits. No thing is listed.

“Shiro.”

“It’s no big deal! Really.”

“Oh? I guess I’ll just hang up, then —”

“It’s just that Adam and I are at his sister’s, right, and —”

“There we go.”

“And we have a sitter. Obviously. All is well. Except, you know. The storm forecast. And everything.”

“And you’re four hours away with a car that you haven’t put snow tires on yet,” Keith surmises. He looks forlornly at his bike, sitting all pretty in her parking spot, freshly polished red paint gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the parking garage. So, so close. “You dumbass.”

“The forecast was clear this morning!”

“You’re a dad! You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Well!”

“Can’t the sitter just — stay? Overnight, or something?”

He feels bad. Any other day, he’d be happy to have Hana over, or go stay over there. He does it all the time. Hana is the coolest. He has no idea how she’s the daughter of the two biggest goobers he knows. Hell, he’s already got plans to watch her this Thursday, so Adam and Shiro can go to their old person museum date thing.

But he has plans tonight.

Fuck.

“She’s sixteen, Keith,” Shiro explains, sighing. Keith envisions his brother slumped against a wall somewhere, rubbing over the scar on his nose. “She’s too young for that. She’s Adam’s friend’s daughter, and she’s a sweetheart, but she’s got school. She can’t be responsible for a baby overnight.”

“No, I — I figured.” He drags his free hand down his face. “You need me to go over there?”

“Yeah. Mara – the sitter – can’t drive yet. Her parents are coming to get her in an hour.”

Shiro’s voice is quiet, subdued. He sounds guilty. Keith hates when Shiro is guilty. He covers his hand over the phone so Shiro can’t hear, screams a little, breathes deeply, then forces a smile wide enough that it will bleed into his voice. Hopefully.

“It’s fine, Shiro. Seriously. Lance and I’ll reschedule, Hana and I will make sure to fuck up your Netflix profile. All is well.”

“Thank you, Keith. I owe you.”

It is a dire thing when Shiro doesn’t complain about Keith messing up his Netflix profile. Once, three years ago, Keith forgot to switch the TV in their living room and watched some Hallmark movie as he sketched, just to make noise in the background. Shiro made snide comments about his taste for three months, because he’s a pretentious indie loser who watches shit like Empire unironically.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll start a tab.”

That, thankfully, makes Shiro snort. “Brat.” He brightens. Keith can almost hear the ding of a lightbulb going off in his head. “Hey, I know it’s dorky, but maybe you and Lance can still go on your date! Me and Adam used to when you were little, in the old apartment.”

Keith furrows his brows. “What, like when you marathoned Lord of the Rings on the shitty futon and ordered the greasiest pizza known to man? That’s not a date.”

“Is so! We enjoyed it, you had pizza so you weren’t having a tantrum, what else could we need?”

“You guys have been weird old people your whole entire life. Did you know that?”

“Only because you aged me. You pain. Anyways. Go pick up my daughter, or you can stay at our place. Minivan keys are where they always are. I gotta go. Love you, kiddo.”

“Ugh. Love you too.” He hangs up, blowing a raspberry at the phone. “Minivan keys are where they always are, he says. What a soccer mom.”

He stares, hands on his hips, at his bike.

What to do, what to do.

He really doesn’t want to cancel on Lance. It’s been a couple days since they’ve seen each other, because Lance’s job hates him. Plus, Hana isn’t very fussy. It’s kind of dweeby and embarrassing, but. Well. Lance likes kids. So it could be fine, honestly.

“Hana first,” Keith decides, nodding to himself. He lifts the seat compartment under the bike and shoves the extra blue helmet in, strapping on his own and starting Red up. To bring Lance to Shiro’s for an embarrassing old person date, or to cancel. That is the question.

Eh. He’ll decide on the ride.

— — —

He does not decide on the ride.

“What do you think,” he asks his sister, lips pursed. She gurgles happily at him from her high chair, shaking her soggy-Cheerio-covered fist at him. “I mean, you go to bed in a couple hours. So it’s not like it’s pure babysitting.”

“Abdalalala,” she says, which Keith translates to mean actually, now that I know you want me to sleep, I will spend tonight completely resistant to sleep, as karma. Enjoy.

“That’s rude,” he informs her.

You’re batshit, says the Pidge that lives in his brain. Also, quit procrastinating.

“Ugh,” he says, out loud. He pulls out his phone and hesitates over Lance’s contact.

to: lance <3

hey you like kids right

from: lance <3

oh my god

from: lance <3

keith, are you…

from: lance <3

pregnant??????

Keith laughs.

to: lance <3

you are not funny

from: lance <3

i’m hilarious actually it’s a tragedy

from: lance <3

i carry the burden of knowing i am solely responsible for my friends’ good humour

from: lance <3

heavy is the head that wears the crown. pensive face emoji solidarity fist emoji broken heart emoji

Keith refuses to dignify that with an answer. Also, he has been informed by Lance’s best friend that if he ignores the emoji bit it will go away eventually. So far it’s been going strong for three months, though, so Keith’s not certain. He can only hope Hunk is correct.

from: lance <3

anyways yah i like kids why

to: lance <3

how much cooler and charming would i be if i picked you up in a minivan. with my sister

from: lance <3

aw, keith!

from: lance <3

to be coolER and MORE charming you have to be cool and charming to begin with :)

from: lance <3

and you are a dweeb 💖

from: lance <3

sounds good tho

from: lance <3

Bring Forth The Child

from: lance <3

oh also bring forth burritos on ur way over

from: lance <3

i’m hungry

Hana yells and bangs on her tray. When Keith looks up, she lobs a Cheerio at him. It hits him squarely between the eyes.

“You’re right,” he says sagely, peeling it off and flicking it back at her. She shrieks in joy. “I cannot let this shit slide. I cannot simply allow myself to be roasted, Hana. I must have self respect.”

She blows a raspberry at him and bangs harder on her tray. Baby conversations are, honestly, riveting.

“Exactly, squirt. You get it. Let’s get cleaned up and go, hm?”

— — —

He picks up burritos on the drive.

Hana laughs at him.

— — —

He’s hardly pulled up in front of Lance’s apartment building when a blur streaks across the front walkway, yanking open the van’s side door.

“Oh, hell-o, precious darling!” gasps Keith’s boyfriend, tumbling into the backseat and slamming my the door shut behind him. “Hi, Hana! Hi hi hi! Aren’t you the bestest ever? You are!”

Hana, evidently pleased with the attention, babbles something incomprehensible and pats Lance’s cheek. He melts, babbling something so quickly it’s equally incomprehensible and shaking her hand. Keith watches, torn between endeared and affronted.

“Hello, boyfriend I have not seen in days,” he deadpans. “Yes, I missed you also. No, I don’t mind at all that you leave me to wither away, alone, in the front seat. Excellent chat.”

“You have a very very grumpy brother, don’t you, Hana,” Lance coos. His shoulders shake with held back laughter.

“Lance, get your ass in the front.”

“But I’m meeting the baby!”

“She is not going anywhere! Meet her at home! You turd!”

“Name-calling is not very nice,” retorts Lance primly, crawling over the console and finally settling in the passenger seat. “What kind of example are you setting, huh?”

He leans over the armrest once he’s buckled in and kisses Keith gently, cradling his hand against his jaw and tilting their heads together. He smells, as he always does, of flowers and sunshine, and Keith sighs as he sinks into the softness of him, the curve of his smile and nip of his teeth.

“Hi,” Keith murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his chin, and then squarely on the mouth again.

“Hi,” Lance responds, a little breathless, grinning widely. His hair is damp and curling at the edges. He’s left out his contacts for the night and the gold lenses match the gold flecks in his brown eyes. Everything he’s wearing is stolen right from Keith’s closet, except his socks, which are bright purple and covered in obnoxiously orange weiner dogs. Keith is so in love with him that the intensity of it embarrasses him, and he pulls away, face red, very interested suddenly in adjusting is rearview mirror.

Lance, knowing, only smiles.

“These are for you,” he says gruffly, shoving the paper takeout bag at Lance’s chest. Lance wastes no time digging through and shoving half of one in his face.

“Aw, baby,” he says, mouth completely full. “You’re literally the best. Sweet, attentive, manipulable, obsessed with me. Everything I intended when I did the love spell on you.”

Keith eyes Lance from his peripherals. He’s digging through his patched backpack, face completely serene. Keith is reminded of the actual sigil he has tattooed on his ankle. (He’s very familiar with it. It’s often right at eye level. Hard to miss, really.)

“…You’re a strange, strange man.”

“Anyways!” Lance continues, visibly gleeful. Keith reminds himself to focus on the goddamn road and remember his sister is watching with her giant wide eyes in the backseat, probably committing all his embarrassing actions to memory to report to Adam the second she is capable of speech. “I brought lots of movies. Mostly Jurassic Park, but also some educational stuff for the baby. Ghostbusters, High School Musical, you know. All that good stuff. And I stashed popcorn behind your microwave last time I slept over so we’re set for snacks.”

“Oh, we’re going to my brother’s place, actually, ‘cause Hana’s more comf— wait, behind the microwave? Why behind?”

“Wait, wait, hold on. We’re not going to your place?”

“No,” Keith says carefully. “I have some baby stuff in my apartment, but not a lot. Plus, Shiro has a better T.V. and also Adam just bought Moose Tracks. So.” He slows to a stop at a red light, noting Lance’s odd expression. “That okay?”

Lance screws up his face for a second, thinking. “I’m pretty sure? As long as there’s an extra toothbrush there. I have one at your place so I didn’t bother bringing one. And I guess I can survive a night without my face serum, but if I get one single wrinkle we’re beefing.”

“You’re not gonna get a stupid wrinkle,” Keith grouches. “And why would you get pissy if you get a wrinkle? We’re gonna get them eventually, and you —”

“‘We’?” Lance teases. “You gonna grow old with me? Gonna marry me someday, Kogane?”

“—can even use Shiro’s face stuff, anyway, I’m sure it’s the same.” Keith clears his throat. “And plus —”

His voice cracks horribly. Lance makes a valiant effort to keep his giggles to himself, but as Keith face continues to get hotter and hotter he loses control and laughs, head thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing with every hitched breath. His laughter sets Hana off, too, both of them encouraging each other’s ridiculousness until they’re as red as Keith is, gasping for breath.

“I hate it here,” Keith mutters darkly. “I’m turning around and bringing you back. You’re the worst. Why do I go out with you.”

Lance, barely recovered, makes kissy faces at him. “Because you want to maaaarrryyyyy meeeee, you think I’m seeeeexxxyyyyy, you want to kiiiiisssss meeeee —”

He cuffs Lance in the back of his head, pretending to check his blindspot and ignoring Lance’s cries of spousal abuse. “I actually just want you to watch Miss Congeniality twelve percent less often. For your own mental health.”

“Lies and slander! Peddling of falsehoods! Perjury and defamation!”

“I’m burning your thesaurus.”

“And now threats! Hana, you shall be my witness! I will testify against you in court! You will be jailed! I will visit you twice monthly!”

“That’s the second person today who wants me in jail,” Keith comments, pulling into Shiro’s driveway. “You’d visit me even if you put me in there?”

“Well, duh. Have to make sure you don’t go around kissing cute criminal boys or I will become a cute criminal boy.”

“Right, of course. I should have known.”

“You should have, yes.” Lance leans over and kisses him on the forehead with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ noise. “But it’s okay, I like ‘em a little dumb.”

“Help me get the diaper bag, goober,” Keith snorts, shoving him away. “I want to get inside so I can have a burrito before you eat them all.”

———

Lance was not kidding about High School Musical.

Obviously.

“Do you want her to grow up with no understanding of community, Keith,” he scolds, and pays no mind when Keith replies, “Well, she has a family, dude, so I’m not worried.”

They watch the stupid musical.

Keith is horribly endeared by Lance’s extensive knowledge of the choreography. Lance is horribly appalled at Keith’s ignorance. Hana is intrigued, mind body and soul, by every scene with Sharpay Evans. Keith assumes this will be a problem for Adam in the near future, and resolves to make that problem worse.

All this to say he’s having a very embarrassing night, in terms of mushy thoughts and feelings.

“I can’t wait to have kids of my own someday,” Lance sighs, a very sleepy Hana tucked into the crook of his arm. He watches her, soft, and Keith pauses with a DVD held loose in his hand, enraptured, because there’s a curve to Lance’s smile that he’s never seen before, and suddenly his left hand looks bare. “I know it’s supposed to be stressful and everything, but I used to force Hunk to play house with me when we were kids. Literally every day. And when my neice and nephew were born I hogged them all the time, even when they were screaming. I dunno. Being a parent sounds awesome. You get to…like…grow a person. It’s like growing a plant but a bajillion times better, probably.”

“Yeah,” says Keith, softly, and without meaning to he’s thinking of Shiro’s tired smile and the gentle hand Adam lays on the back of his neck, of their door that was always open for Keith’s nightmares, of Shiro’s clothes ruffling as he slid to the floor and sat for hours as Keith screamed himself hoarse and cried for a mother who left. Of Adam’s boiling pots and gentle hands as he guided Keith around a chopping knife. Of both Shiro’s choked-off sobs and Adam’s right embrace as Keith came back, thirteen, in the middle of the night, scared and no longer angry, and their quiet I’m so glad you’re safe. Thank you for coming back. “Yeah, family is important.”

Lance hums. He’s quiet long enough that Keith looks up, realising for the first time his gaze has been locked, unseeing, on the pictures on the wall, of Shiro and Adam and the two of them together and with Keith and with Hana and with Keith and Hana. Lance is watching him, quiet, dark eyes knowing, Hana finally asleep in his arms, beautiful and strong and everything Keith has ever wanted, suddenly, at once.

“I love you,” he blurts.

Lance smiles. “I’ve noticed.”

“Oh, you dickhead.”

“I’m saying it back!” Lance says, snickering, free hand held up in surrender. Keith walks over and slots their fingers together, squeezing slightly, leaning in and holding, a second, a hair’s breadth away from Lance’s mouth, watching his lips part, feeling the heat of his breath. His words are breathless, near silent, mouthed as much as spoken. “You changed my life, you know. I made you chase me because I thought it was funny, but — I made Hunk get me your number from Pidge the night I left the bar. I was going to text you if your brother’s tweet didn’t go viral and cement your dorkiness for eternity.”

“That’s a lotta words to say ‘I love you’, dorkbrain.”

“I know. You make me nervous.”

“You never get nervous.”

“I do with you.”

“Yeah?”

They’re so close now that their lips brush with every word, and Lance is grinning, eyes crinkled and lashes fluttering against Keith’s cheeks, and Keith has a hand careful on Hana’s head so he doesn’t crush her and is smiling just as wide. Cheesy, dorky, corny, and everything Keith wished for after every romance novel he’d steal, fooling no one, from Adam’s shelf and read long after bedtime.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I love you. Even though you’re a dweebus and a simp.”

He is, really, because he lets Lance get away with that, kissing him to shut him up, to feel his laughter right up close. It’s sparks flying and warmth spreading and heart slowing, and in the gentle darkness of the night.

It’s the promise of more to come.

[lightlycareless]

I found a picture of Naoya playing the piano and want to show it to you. My fav scene where naoya teaches his wife piano. I love the scene sm 🤭🤭

HIIII how are you!!!!??? Thank you for patience 🥺

Omg thank you so much for sending me this ajkghajgajgs Naoya is a man of many talents, and him using them to brighten your day is 🥺 I'll always hold that scene close to my heart, them bonding together is just 😭 oh, I wish we could have more moments like that.

And we can... I mean, I wrote a little something, like a deviation from what I have planned lol a what if, if you must 😏

warnings: none. fluff. it's based on this fic. now that's a whole can of worms. proceed with caution.

Imagine you deciding to continue your piano lessons after growing somewhat genuinely interested in learning.

After a few sessions you’ve began to show improvement. Sure, you still struggle with certain things, such as jumping from one octave to the other, but anyone could easily admit you were not the same amateur from before.

And yet… there seemed to be something holding you back from taking the next step. You were already a master of twinkle twinkle little star, so why couldn’t you move onto something a bit more difficult?

Well, it was plain simple. Quite obvious, actually, for an outsider that is. Naoya was too blinded by his role as a teacher to even notice.

It was all intentional, made from your desire to keep him close, enjoying the way he’d place his arms around you, his large hands over yours as he guides you into the correct position to play even if you already knew how.

All to keep feeling his breath on your skin, the cologne you now solely associated with him, and you suppose his attention too, especially when you played the shy, tense student that desperately needed the guidance of her sensei.

To voice such ploys made you feel silly, if not selfish, but you didn’t know how to voice your need without feeling embarrassed. You didn’t want to appear needy before a man that is always busy, and yet, here you were, acting as if you’d never seen a piano in your life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Naoya loves spending time with you, even though seemingly mundane activities. But even he was getting a bit… frustrated with these lessons that were quickly growing repetitive. His perfectionist temperament demanded he’d do everything right, or at least strive for it, naturally extending to you. Obviously for you, the woman whom he wanted to please more than anything in this world.

You showed enough promise, a talent that could be polished if pursued, so why weren’t you advancing?

Was it… him, perhaps? Your actions consequence of his failure as a teacher?

Maybe. Naoya isn’t known for being a particularly good listener, less of an educator. There’s enough witnesses to asses to it.

Your husband just hopes his incapability doesn’t push you away from wanting to learn piano, Naoya would rather die than to cut short these already scarce moments with you.

Though it’s more likely that he’ll do that anyways, a well-prepared teacher appears to be a better alternative.

“… but I don’t get it. Maybe there’s something I’m not seeing.” Naoya frowns, adjusting his position near you and taking your hands with him once more, hoping that it’ll come to him. The solution to your problem.

He sighs when it doesn’t. For the nth time. Maybe he is a bad teacher after all.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll be able to teach you anymore.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’m just having a tough time figuring out how to help you.” Naoya laments. “I may have underestimated my skills.”

You know what they say, the best way to check if you know something is by teaching it to someone else. Something like that, or so he’s heard.

“Don’t say that I think you’re doing great!” You encouraged, looking over to Naoya and his deep frown, evidence of the frustration your little ploy has inflicted on him. Had you known he would be so affected by it you would’ve gone easier with your obliviousness…

And yet, it was endearing to see your impact on him. How hard he was trying to make things work for you—you still couldn’t believe how much of an influence you had on him, even if he’s already proved the lengths he was willing to go to make you happy.

…Like the protective husband he swore to be on your wedding day.

“You don’t have to mock me, mochi” Naoya insists. “I think you’d be better off with an actual teacher if you still want to learn.”

You do, but…

“…I want you.” You murmur, so lowly, so… sweetly, that Naoya had to double check he heard you right the first time around, quickly swirling his head onto your direction, frozen the moment your doe-like, hypnotizing eyes, those he could never get enough of, landed on his, with such intensity that let him know it was all true.

The purpose you were attempting to convey many lessons ago instantly becoming clear to him. The intentions you were too shy to speak out loud, but not enough to sway you from trying, an unknown edge of yours that had him both impressed and absorbed.

One never stops knowing their partner, do they?

What an enthralling thought to have.

“Is that so?” He murmurs back, leaning closer to you. “You’d be fine with someone like me as your teacher, princess?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone… better.” You blush. And though intimidated by his piercing gaze, you persisted. When you once cowered away, you now wished to be the only person his eyes saw.

“Then I guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Maybe it’s because he was within your reach, or because you had enough of going around in circles, whatever it was, you couldn’t hold back anymore; and with the noise of your heart deafening your ears, you lean closer to him, removing the gap between the two and placing your lips over his. Gently, sweetly, like it was your first time, and took him in—sealing your newfound sentiments with a kiss he’s long been dreaming of.

So much that he’s almost in disbelief, remaining still as he tries his best to both contain his excitement, heart ready to burst through his chest, hands itching to pull you closer and keep you there, afraid that the moment he peels away you’ll disappear, just as he’s forced you to through the beginning of this marriage.

Naoya too felt like it was the first time he’s ever kissed anyone—perhaps kissed anyone with love. With that soft warmth he could only label as true love. What he feels for you now, has always been so, and hopefully, you too.

After a few seconds, much to Naoya’s dismay, you’re the first one to separate, slowly pulling away and opening your eyes to the sight of your flustered husband, the adorable face of a man that has dreamed of this day for god knows how long, giving you the impression (alongside a sense of guilt) that maybe you should’ve been a bit more direct with your actions.

Though how everything came to be… wasn’t that bad.

“You didn’t have to go through all that, you know?” Naoya teases, his attempt to cool down the heat on his cheeks. “If you just wanted to kiss me, you just had to say so.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you joke back, and he smirks, letting out a chuckle. “…But I guess I shouldn’t have wasted your time.”

“Being with you is no waste of time.”

Now it’s your turn to grow speechless, face red, perhaps even more than Naoya’s, due to the vast, unexpected sweetness of his words, and the overwhelming embarrassment it provided you, leading you to cover your face with your hands and making him laugh even louder.

“You don’t need to act this way with me, love.” Naoya says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “We’ve done more… heated things, after all. This is nothing.”

“Oh, stop it! Is that your way of comforting me?!” You gasp, burying your face deeper into his chest.

“It is the truth, love. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“You know well I wasn’t referring to that” you murmur. “…but… do you really feel that way…?”

“I’d give you the whole world if you asked.”

But even if you didn’t, he was going to do so, because he has long sworn in his own life that he’d do everything in his power to make up for all the wrongdoings he’s inflicted upon you. His best to erase the vile acts he did when he called himself your so-called husband.

For as long as it takes, all of his lifetime if so needed, and the next one, and the next one.

“I think I’ll be happy just to hear you play the piano for now.” You eventually add. “If you don’t have anything else to do.”

“I’m all yours today—”

“And...” you interrupt, Naoya blinks.

“And?”

“If I can kiss you again.” You say, shyly looking up to him. “If you want…”

“Hm, I don’t know… you’ll have to convince me.”

“How do I do that?” you tilt your head.

“By giving me a kiss for each time you had me going around in circles.”

With unprecedented speed, you quickly grabbed his face and begging to pepper kisses all over his face, Naoya more than happy that you were, and a bit startled too.

“Wait, Y/N—did you even want to learn how to play??” He rightfully concludes.

“A bit, I guess.” You giggle. “But really I just wanted to be with you.”

Naoya immediately succumbs to your gestures soon after that, putty on your hands as he lets himself be appreciated by the woman of his dreams, the love of his life—the owner of his heart.

Your heart squeezes with longing. Who knew Naoya could be this… adorable? So sweet, you didn’t have the heart to deny him—

Nor would you, setting to live out the rest of your life as his wife.

For good, this time.

I always liked the idea of you being able to feel Naoya's heart. Like, how fast it is beating because of how happy he is with you 🥺 Thankfully I do have another prompt with that exact same situation, though it's a HS au. Also, this is not their fated kiss I owe y'all, I think what I have planned is much better 😏 (or so I hope)

Now, thank you so much for waiting for my answer 🥺 I'm still slowly but surely working through them requests :> I always appreciate whenever you send me something (so don't be afraid of sharing more hehe)

Take care and hope to see you soon!!

[cakerybakery]

It didn’t take long for Lucifer to wiggle his way back into his bunny’s burrow after the whole huge tits thing. Three babies weren’t just difficult to care for by himself, it was downright impossible for Adam to do it alone.

Lucifer became his contact to the outside world as well. Letting Adam know the goings on in the hotel and hell. Helping to keep him sane in the dark room he refused to leave.

It took Lucifer a week of pampering Adam with fresh fruits and sweet treats, of rubbing his sore back, and grooming Adam to convince Adam to let Lucifer at least tell Charlie about her baby brother and sisters.

Charlie had been worried for months about Adam but having learned about boundaries during an incident with Angel she’d figured she’d leave him alone and had once a day simply knocked on his door to ask if he was okay. Finding out he had been pregnant and was just over protective had been a huge weight off her mind.

“I was worried he was depressed.” She sighed. “But I didn’t know male rabbit sinners could get pregnant. Oh no. Does he know who the father is? Maybe he’s upset about that? Should I made him a gift basket? Yes! I’ll put in baby things, and stuff for him too! Would it be too far to put in information about contraceptives? I’m not really as up on preventing rabbit sinners from having babies as I should have been. Maybe we can have a lesson on-“

“Charlie!” Lucifer interrupted his eldest’s verbalized stream of thought. “You have to be a pretty high ranking demon to get a male rabbit sinners pregnant. So it’s not really an issue. That being said, if I can talk him into it, would you like to meet your new brother and sisters?”

It took a tick for Charlie to squeal in delight that the triplets were her siblings, than her face contorted to disgust as she realized that meant her dad and Adam had boned and she’d just effectively told her father he needed to use condoms when he fucked Adam to prevent more babies.

She wasn’t wrong through, he supposed. He knew there was a good chance Adam would get pregnant, especially the way they fucked that week. There had just been a bit of a disconnect between his brain and his dicks. It was two against one. Hardly fair. By the time his brain got a say in the matter Adam’s scent had already changed and it took him a couple days to work out why that happened.

Adam wasn’t up for sex. He was still very sore, too human to be up and ready to be impregnated again. But even when he was, Lucifer needed to remember to think and to prevent another pregnancy for a while.

The triplets had to be way more independent. And Adam wasn’t going to let him near him for a while yet so that was a problem for future Lucifer.

However, he wanted Charlie to meet the triplets while they were still little, so when he returned he was extra careful to clean himself. Junior was crying and Adam was trying to comfort him but he only had two tits and the girls were already there.

Lucifer picked the boy up and gathered a bottle of extra milk from the fridge. He warmed it with a spell and fed his son.

Another reason Adam didn’t leave the room. He was producing more than enough milk but didn’t have enough tits for all three at once. He needed to pump so the odd one out could be fed by Lucifer.

Once the babies were all fed, dry, and back asleep, Lucifer set to work. He massaged Adam’s back as Adam pumped. He whispered sweet nothings in Adam’s cute lop ears all about how wonderful and handsome he was.

Adam just, uh huhed, and rolled his eyes.

So Lucifer started a bath for his bunny, conjuring every little bath item he could think of. Bubble baths, and flower petals, things that fizzed and changed the colour of the bath. He even conjured a little rubber duck with lop ears that stirred up more bubbles as it floated along.

He helped his poor sore bunny into his bath to soak and Lucifer trimmed and polished Adam’s nails.

“Okay, what do you want? If it’s sex, no. No amount of pampering is going to convince me to let you tap this before I’m ready.” Adam was stern but he reached out and stroked Lucifer’s hair.

Lucifer leaned into the petting, following the hand back to the tub and laying his head down on the edge so Adam could scratch at the scales on the base of his skull and back of his neck. He’d be shedding soon and wouldn’t mind if Adam helped get the stuff on his back. It could be so itchy.

Adam caught on quickly to Lucifer’s attempts to soften him up this time.

“Hmm, no. Not that. I know you’re not ready, yet. It’s a big ask though.” Lucifer tried to enjoy the head scratches before Adam tossed him out again for his ask. “Can Charlie come see the babies?”

The hand paused. Adam sighed. “Pick a day. We can clean up, get the kids all washed and fed, and then she can come visit. But she has to wash her hands and not be sick!”

Rising up, Lucifer threw himself at Adam in the tub. Hugging him and kissing his face in thanks. The bath water sloshed and spilled from Lucifer’s jump into the tub and they lay there not minding the mess one bit.

“If you were ready, I’d show you just how thankful I am.” Lucifer nuzzled Adam’s neck.

Hands held Lucifer close and Adam moaned from the attention. “I suppose, a hand would be fine.”

Lucifer slipped down a little to grasp Adam’s half hard dick and pumped it. He kissed the thick tuft of fur on the center of Adam’s chest and nuzzled the swollen pecs.

Adam moaned and pushed his head away. “Cut that out, I’m going to spring a leak.”

Licking Adam’s palm, Lucifer grinned. He scooted further down the tub he took a deep breath and dove his head underwater. He wrapped his tongue around Adam cock and licked it while he deep throated his beautiful bunny’s dick.

The water sloshed as Lucifer stayed under to please his lover. He took his time, going slowly up and down the shaft until Adam’s hand encouraged him to go faster.

He swirled his tongue around the head and drove the dick deep in his throat easily, he’s eaten prey whole before, Adam was an impressive size but still not the largest thing Lucifer had shoved in his mouth. Both hands grasped his head and held him there as Adam came down his throat.

Letting go, Lucifer pulled himself up along to Adam’s face, keeping himself submerged in the water below his eyes.

Adam kissed his forehead, “that felt real good... How long are you going to stay under there?”

He sat himself up, “I could stay under for another forty minutes or so.”

Adam’s ear flicked and he turned his head slightly. “Well, I think we should get up. I hear Alice stirring.”

The bubbles were nearly gone anyways. Plus, Lucifer didn’t take his clothing off before getting into the tub so he needed to change.

Getting out, Adam gave an involuntary shake to get the water off before grabbing a towel to dry himself.

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer dried the room. Adam would be along after caring for the kids to give it a quick clean by hand. Adam preferred the smell of soap to just the absence of dirt. He dried himself off as well.

He tried to slip out of the room without Adam realizing but was grabbed by Adam and he had to put up with Adam brushing his hair until it was soft of fluffy. Lucifer preferred it styled up a bit with gel but Adam made his preference clear. Lucifer squirmed in Adam’s arms but unless he wanted to kick and risk hurting his bunny there wasn’t much he could do but put up with the grooming.

Adam sniffed his hair then nuzzled him. “Good, you smell clean.”

Lucifer was set free as Adam went to dot on their babies. He could hear Alice fuss as Adam fussed over her. Cleaning her ears, softly brushing at the cradle cap on her scalp hidden mostly by the hair, wiping away a little bit of spit up from her cheek with a cloth.

“Sorry little lady, but better you than me.” Lucifer quickly put his hair back up how he liked. Adam would be too busy with the babies now to clean out the gel and brush it back down. He’d be in for it later as he was forced to sit still and be groomed for the night before bed as Adam didn’t like the smell of gel in his nest.

Being groomed was the price he paid for falling for his little bunny, though. Fastidious sinners, the lot of them. He wasn’t looking forward to having at least four of them insisting he needed to be groomed. Considering how often Adam spent fussing over his own hair and ears, the daily baths and evening showers. Lucifer had never been so throughly clean, not even in heaven where there was no dirt out of place.

He sighed, “at least he uses a brush and doesn’t lick me.”