#me take a serious prompt seriously?? ha!

[luvergirl-866]

what about a one shot where azzi gets hurt (nothing too serious) and paige just worried about her and takes care of her tons of fluff and maybe some smut at the end? just paint bring the ultimate gentle gf

not a lot, just forever

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 3.6

content - illness/menstruation, language, implied sex, azzi having everyone wrapped around her finger

a/n - a little smth to tide yall over for sll chap 8!! this took me like all day, idk why lol. obviously i went off prompt, that’s my bad 😭 azzi doesn’t get injured but like close enough, and no smut sorry 😔. very much inspired by the fact that azzi has been sick lately and the injury scare last night, just thought we all needed a little fluff after that bc whew! anyway, i hope yall enjoy!!

Azzi is smack in the middle of a perfect dream—in which she and Paige disagree about something and Paige is completely silent while Azzi explains all the reasons she’s right—when her alarm brutally awakens her.

“Nooo,” she groans into her pillow. Her voice comes out all croaky and the word scratches painfully at her throat on the way out. Two warning signs of what she knew was coming—she’s sick.

To be sure, she tries to take a deep breath in through her nose, and fails. She must’ve been breathing through her mouth all night with how congested she is.

Suddenly overtaken by an aggressive coughing fit, Azzi fishes under the pillows for her phone, alarm still buzzing annoyingly.

Somehow, her phone must’ve found itself under Paige’s pillow because after a quick search, Azzi realizes it’s certainly not under her’s.

Sighing, Azzi shoves at Paige’s shoulder, trying to move her but the girl is dead weight when she’s asleep.

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, shaking her now. “Move your big-ass head.”

Paige groans similarly to how Azzi did a few minutes ago, then rolls onto her stomach, unhelpfully clutching her pillow closer. “Turn it offff,” she whines quite babyishly, for a girl who claims to be the ‘masc’ in the relationship.

Azzi rolls her eyes. “I’m trying, it’s under your pillow.”

“No it’s not,” Paige whines.

“Yes it is,” Azzi says, shoving Paige over. “Seriously, it’s getting annoying, you have to move so I can turn it off.”

“Ughhh,” Paige says dramatically, but then she turns onto her side, giving Azzi access to the pillow, and promptly falls back asleep.

“Why, thank you, your highness,” Azzi grumbles, finally finding her phone and turning off that god-awful alarm.

It’s in the silence of the room that she realizes a headache has started to form at the base of her head. Perfect.

She’s already been in bed for too long—if she wants to get dressed, do her hair, and have enough time to drag Paige out of bed and get her ready so they’re both on time to practice, she needs to get up now.

Doing her best to ignore the searing pain in her throat, head, and lungs, Azzi climbs over Paige—who doesn’t move, nothing more than a lump under the covers—and crawls out of bed, turning on the bedside lamp. The warm light illuminates the room and Azzi goes to the closet, trying to find comfort in the monotony of her morning routine. But as she bends down to reach inside the drawer which is dedicated to her underwear, she feels an aching soreness in her legs and pelvis—partly to do with the suicides Coach made them run yesterday, but mostly to do with the fact that Paige was insatiable last night, not stopping until Azzi tapped out after their fourth round.

At the time, it was hot and felt so, so good. Now it makes her groan when she straightens up, and she glares at the lump sleeping peacefully under the covers.

“All your fault,” Azzi grumbles to no one as she gets dressed, because if she can blame her sore legs on Paige, then why not blame her sickness on her, too? “So damn horny all the time. ‘Azzi, it’ll be fun. Azzi, I’ll be gentle. Azzi, just one more, we haven’t even used the strap yet.’” Azzi laments her girlfriend’s convincing tone from last night, that sly smile looking up at her from in between her legs, those hands that bent her over the bed after making her legs shake so much she could barely stand, and pummeled into her so feverishly Azzi was pretty sure she could feel it in her guts. “Damn,” Paige had sighed after they were finally done, “good thing we’re both girls. Because you’d prolly be pregnant with, like, triplets after that.”

Last night, in her fucked-out haze, it had made Azzi laugh. Now, the memory just makes her roll her eyes, kneeling down to check that both she and Paige’s gym bags have everything they need in them. “Not even how that works,” Azzi mutters bitterly. “Dumbass.”

Once that’s done, Azzi leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind her because she may be sore and annoyed but she’s always going to make sure Paige gets her sleep.

When she gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and Azzi knocks lightly. “‘S me.”

“Azzi?” comes Jana’s equally exhausted voice on the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

The door opens, and the glare Jana directs toward her once they’re face to face startles her. “What—“

“Sounds like you lost your voice,” Jana remarks, quite sassily if you ask Azzi.

“Yeah, I—“

“Probably from all that screaming last night.”

Azzi freezes, then bites her lip sheepishly. “We tried to be quiet.”

“Paige was quiet,” Jana says, stepping to the side to let Azzi into the room. “You, on the other hand…”

“Uh, oops?” Azzi responds, flashing an apologetic smile.

As usual, it works, and Jana shoves her affectionately as Azzi steps into the bathroom.

“Wait till y’all are alone if you’re gonna be trying to make babies,” Jana teases. Then she studies her face and says, “You don’t look too good, Azaray.”

Azzi nods, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she wets her toothbrush, seeing herself for the first time this morning. Her cheeks are flushed, bags heavy under her eyes, lips pale. “Think I finally got sick.”

About two weeks ago, a couple of the girls got sick with some kind of flu. Of course, with the team spending all their time together, the rest of the girls followed soon after. Paige was one of the last to get sick, last week, and as soon as she did Azzi knew any hopes of staying away from this virus were out the window. Considering the fact Paige and Azzi would live inside each other’s skin if they could, if one of them gets sick, both of them do.

Paige got better over the weekend. Now it’s Tuesday and Azzi becomes even more annoyed at the thought that Paige gave her this illness.

“You’re still going to practice?” Jana asks, watching as Azzi brushes her teeth.

Azzi nods.

“Why?”

Azzi shrugs her shoulders, then says around the brush in her mouth, “Can’t mish it.”

“We all skipped when we got sick,” Jana says.

Shrugging again, Azzi spits into the sink, rinses off her toothbrush. “Season’s starting soon. And I’m already not cleared to play right away, I don’t wanna get pushed back even further.”

Jana raises an eyebrow at her. “And you think Paige is gonna let her precious princess go to practice with the flu?”

Azzi looks at herself in the mirror, and is reminded that she is, in fact, a grown woman. A grown woman who is independent and knows her own limits and can make decisions for herself.

“Paige can’t let me do anything,” Azzi replies, sure of herself.

Ten minutes later, she walks back into Paige’s bedroom to test that theory.

The room is still dark, as expected, and also as expected, Paige is still snuggled up in her purple fluffy comforter.

The sight of her girlfriend, wrapped like a burrito in bed with only her face uncovered, blonde hair splayed over her pillow, makes Azzi soften a bit. She’s honestly like a baby when she sleeps, and it gives Azzi cuteness aggression.

Finding it a little harder to be annoyed at her horny, sickness-spreading girlfriend, Azzi flicks on the light, smiling when Paige grumbles faintly.

Azzi sits on the edge of the bed, brushes her hand through Paige’s hair like she does every morning. “Hey,” she whispers.

Paige snuggles further into the comforter. Now she’s only visible from the nose up.

“Time to get up,” Azzi continues.

Paige doesn’t respond. Not a good sign.

“You only have twenty minutes to get ready, babe,” Azzi insists, brushing her fingers gently over the face she has touched and kissed too many times to count. “You really gotta get up.”

Again, there’s no response, but when Azzi leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, Paige finally cracks her eyes open, sleepy smile gracing her features.

“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” Azzi says sarcastically.

Paige wriggles out of the blankets just enough to free her arms, wrapping them around Azzi’s neck and pulling her down for a kiss.

She only manages a peck before Azzi wrestles out of Paige’s grip, pulling away. “We can’t.”

Paige closes her eyes against the overhead light and pouts. “Why?”

“Because I’m sick,” Azzi replies, brushing her thumb over Paige’s bottom lip, “you big baby.”

Paige’s eyes miraculously fly open at this, and though she’s still squinting, she looks incredibly more alive than she did two seconds ago. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Azzi sighs. “Could only avoid it for so long, I guess.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Paige pushes up onto her elbows as if to get a better look at her. “Why’re you up right now? You gotta rest.”

Here they go. Azzi preps herself for an argument, and desperately wishes for her dream from last night to come true. “I can rest after practice.”

Paige scoffs as if she’s just told a joke. “You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s not a big deal, I feel fine,” Azzi tries, but then her body betrays her and she coughs so hard she nearly doubles over.

Paige is wide awake in an instant, shooting up to rub her back, not even complaining about how she doesn’t wanna get up or it’s so cold in here. “Az, you’re definitely sick.”

“Thanks,” Azzi coughs into her elbow, “I didn’t know.”

“Sassy, too,” Paige remarks. Azzi tries to glare at her but it must not pack a punch because Paige just gets this sympathetic look on her face. “Aw, baby. Just lay back down, lemme call Coach and tell him what’s goin’ on.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi croaks, grabbing her wrist to stop her from reaching for her phone. “Don’t tell him I’m sick. He won’t let me come in.”

“Yeah,” Paige says, using her free hand to grab her phone despite Azzi’s protests, “that’s kinda the point.”

“You don’t get it,” Azzi replies, trying to reach for Paige’s phone but Paige stands up, holding it over her head and out of Azzi’s reach.

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, looking down at her. “Try me.”

“I wanna play,” Azzi says emphatically, the bright light of the room and the stress of talking making her head full-on pound now. “And if I miss practice I might be…”

“Pushed back further,” Paige finishes, lowering her arm when Azzi nods. Azzi doesn’t make a reach for the phone, though, and Paige kneels down in front of her, resting her arms on Azzi’s knees. “Your head hurt?”

“No,” Azzi lies.

Paige licks her lips, reaches a hand up to cup Azzi’s cheek. “I’ll grab some Ibuprofen, okay?”

Paige is up before she can respond, throwing some clothes on and leaving the room while Azzi sits helplessly on the edge of the bed. She glances at her phone—they only have fifteen minutes to get ready now.

When Paige comes back, she has two pills in one hand and the thermometer in the other, a worried frown playing on her lips.

Azzi stands up, trying her best not to let show how dizzy it makes her. “You don’t have to take my temperature, it’s okay.”

Paige only hands over the medicine, watches Azzi swallow the pills down.

“Okay, we’re good,” Azzi says, gently pushing Paige away by her chest. “No need for the thermometer. I’ll get through practice fine.” Even though she’s pretty sure she needs something a lot stronger than Ibuprofen to cure the aches and pains all over her body.

“If you have a fever, you can’t go to practice,” Paige says, stepping toward Azzi with the thermometer clutched almost menacingly in her hand. “It’s not allowed. Those are the rules.”

“Well, I don’t,” Azzi says, though she’s sure she does. And that’s exactly why she shies away when Paige lifts the thermometer to her forehead.

“Az, stop it,” Paige says when Azzi grabs her wrist, ducking away from the object. “You gotta let me.”

“Did you not hear me, earlier?” Azzi asks, and then there’s a cramp in her abdomen, sudden and painful and all-too familiar. “Oh, my god. No way.”

“Wha…? Azzi,” Paige says as Azzi rushes past her, following her on the way to the bathroom.

She tries to go in with her but Azzi shuts the door and locks it, rushing to the toilet and pulling her pants down to find exactly what she feared.

She started her period. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Az?” Paige calls through the door. “Yo, you good?”

Azzi nearly cries. This is it. She gives up. She’s going to sit here and melt forever and Coach will never let her play basketball again and Paige will leave her for some other girl who isn’t sick and gross and bloody.

“Did you die?” Paige asks. “Baby, you gotta respond so I know you didn’t die.”

“Didn’t die,” Azzi responds weakly. Though she might as well have.

“Okay…” Paige says slowly. “So, can you let me in?”

Azzi gets the strangest sensation then—in which she both wants to yell at Paige to go away and simultaneously feels as if she needs to be curled up in Paige’s arms within the next five minutes or else she might…well, die.

This is basically how she feels every time she starts her period. She’s sure it’s very fun for Paige.

Situating herself, Azzi stands up, clutching at her stomach, head pounding—it’s like the Ibuprofen doesn’t exactly know where to help. She washes her hands and then hesitates near the door, unsure whether she wants to emerge, but that need for her girlfriend wins over her annoyance at the world and she opens the door.

Paige doesn’t have time to react before Azzi is walking directly into her chest, arms limp at her sides while she resists the urge to scream into Paige’s sweater.

“Uh…” Paige says, wrapping her arms tentatively around Azzi’s shoulders, “you okay?”

“Started my period,” Azzi says, voice muffled in Paige’s shoulders

“Oh. That’s early,” Paige notes. Azzi can nearly hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Least you’re not pregnant.”

There’s another thing about Azzi on her period: her patience for Paige, which is usually plentiful, dwindles into nothing. And suddenly her stupid jokes and tendency to poke fun don’t seem endearing anymore.

The fact that every major organ in her body seems to be fighting for their life right now doesn’t help, either.

“It’s not funny,” Azzi says, pushing away from Paige’s grasp.

Paige reaches for her. “Hey, sorry, I—“

“Call Coach,” Azzi grumbles, sentence interrupted by a painful cough as if to taunt her, “don’t even care if I can’t play anymore.”

It’s the farthest thing from the truth, of course. The thought of this little flu being another thing getting in the way of her playing makes her stomach turn. But she doesn’t say that, just marches right past Paige and into the bedroom, shutting off the light before jumping into bed, where she plans on pouting for the remainder of the day.

Paige doesn’t follow her in, and Azzi can hear the soft noise of her talking out in the hallway. Probably calling in, telling them Azzi won’t be at practice. The faint sounds of her voice turn that switch once again, and she wants Paige by her side more than anything else.

A few minutes pass before Paige is coming into the room. She comes to the edge of the bed and leans over it, placing her hands on either side of Azzi’s head as she hovers over her. “Baby, I gotta go to practice. I asked Coach if I could stay here but that was a hard no.”

Azzi would be shocked if otherwise. Even so, she dreads spending the next couple hours without Paige by her side, because Paige is the only person who can ever really make her feel better.

Still, she nods, doing her best to manage a smile up at her girlfriend. “Okay. I’ll just go back to sleep, it’s okay.”

Paige nods, leans down to brush their noses together. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Paige.”

Paige presses a kiss to her lips. Azzi doesn’t have it in her to protest about germs. “You’re not mad at me?”

That gets Azzi to really smile, a little. “No. Just cranky.”

“Mm.” Paige gives her another kiss, then one on her forehead, before straightening up. “I’ll be back soon, mama. I’ll bring some stuff back for you, okay? Just lemme know what you want.”

Azzi nods. She almost watches Paige leave in slow-motion, like a sad scene from a movie. She can almost hear the background music.

Rolling over, she tries to relax, hoping for some more sleep. But her eyes stay wide open.

——————————————

Two and a half hours later, Paige comes home to find Azzi unloading the dishwasher.

As soon as Paige steps through the front door, Azzi freezes, a guilty look on her face. Paige’s mouth drops open as if affronted.

“Yo, what’re you doing?” Paige asks, kicking her shoes off.

Azzi steps away from the dishwasher. “Uh, just thought I’d do some cleaning up…”

“Bro,” Paige says. It’s perhaps the most disappointed bro Azzi has ever heard.

“I’m sorry!” she says, leaving the kitchen fully to meet Paige at the door. “I couldn’t get back to sleep and I needed a distraction.”

Paige walks past her to set the two bags of groceries she brought home on the counter. “You need to rest,” she corrects. She rounds back on Azzi, taking her by the hips and walking them toward the couch. “You won’t get better if you don’t rest.”

“I took DayQuil,” Azzi pipes up, as if it’ll earn her brownie points.

Paige gives her a look and then sits her on the couch. “Lay down.”

Dutifully, Azzi does, allowing her body to relax as much as possible even while everything hurts.

“Can’t believe you did chores,” Paige goes on as she walks back to the kitchen. “‘S not even your dorm.” She sounds almost as if she’s muttering to herself now as she goes through the grocery bags. “Walk in and my sick girlfriend’s doing the dishes. The fuck.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it,” Azzi says, lifting her head up. Paige gives her another look and she lays back down.

Usually (that is, outside of the bedroom) Azzi is the one who tells Paige what to do. But today, she’s too weak to argue.

“It’s a big deal because I told you to relax while I was gone.” Pulling out a tray, Paige arranges all of the groceries on it. She carries it over to Azzi, and it’s a little haphazard with snacks and medicine and a glass of water but it’s also perfect because Paige did it.

“Thank you,” she says when Paige sets the tray on the coffee table.

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies nonchalantly, already leaving the room on the hunt for something else. When she comes back, she has a heating pad and the blanket that Azzi has dubbed as her favorite in hand. “Which one? Heating pad, blanket? Both?”

“Both,” Azzi says without hesitation.

Paige is already plugging the heating pad into the wall.

She places it on Azzi’s lower abdomen, exactly where the cramps hit her the worst, and then throws the blanket over her.

“And here’s the remote,” she says, passing it over once Azzi is situated. She pushes her hand into Azzi’s curls, scratching gently at her scalp as she kneels by her. “What else you need, baby? I can go make you somethin’, or if I forgot anything from the store I can run back.”

Azzi shakes her head, reaching her arms out for her girlfriend, who is quick to pull her into her arms and hold her there. “My girl,” Paige murmurs in her ear, rubbing her back soothingly. “I’m sorry you’re not feelin’ well, baby.”

Azzi hums into her shoulder. “Feel a little better now.”

“Yeah?” Paige kisses her temple, then pulls away. “You wanna turn on the TV?”

Azzi nods, and Paige sits down, laying Azzi’s head in her lap, one hand stroking her pulse point while the other flicks through Netflix.

Azzi stares up at her girlfriend, wonders how she got so lucky. (She has no idea Paige thinks the same thing every time she wakes up to Azzi’s gentle voice in the morning.)

“Paige,” she says, and Paige looks down at her immediately. “I love you.”

Paige smiles down at her, leaning over for a sideways kiss. “I love you, mama.”

“You should stop kissing me.”

Paige kisses her again. “I already got sick, you cant give it to me.”

“I don’t know if we should rely on that.”

“You could have the black plague or some shit,” Paige says, pulling Azzi’s head up now to kiss her a little more deeply, “and I would still kiss you.”

Shaking her head fondly, Azzi scoots up, Paige’s legs opening to make room for her as she sits sideways between them, resting her head in the crook of Paige’s neck. She smells good, freshly showered, hair still a little damp. Paige picks a movie before hooking her arm around Azzi’s back, using her free hand to hold the heating pad in place over her tummy.

“Getting sleepy?” Paige asks after a few minutes.

Azzi nods, hums into her neck. “Little bit.”

“Go to sleep, pretty girl,” Paige says, hand soothing up and down her back, and Azzi is finally right where she belongs, safe and secure and at home in Paige’s arms.

For the first time all day, her body stops aching. And finally, with Paige’s gentle voice whispering sweetly in her ear, she gets some much-needed sleep.

[wrayah]

wriothesley x fem!reader

prompt: An overworked Writohesley finally accepts to get an assitant to help him around. Work begins to become smoother thanks to you, however you also make things harder for Wriothesley thanks to your innocent seductiveness. A small clothing mishap becomes the perfect moment for Writohesley to solve the throbbing problem in his pants.

notes: HERE IT IS THE (somewhat) SEX CRAZED WRIO I PROMISED YOU ALL !! can you guys tell i'm obsessed with this man ?? now please ask me for other characters i have no idea what to write now ( ;´ - `;)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut (mdni 🔞), dom!wrio, pet names, penetration, oral, no protection, ejaculation, curse words, handcuffs, overstimulation (kinda?)

Wriothesley wasn't very fond of the idea of hiring an assistant, he could handle his work all by himself, he had been doing it for a while and could keep going that way. He simply couldn't comprehend why Sigewinne was so insistent, why she kept nagging him and telling him he should get help.

"'You really should consider it!" Sigewinne scolded Writohesley from her seat across from him, her tiny hands holding a cup of warm tea. "As the head and only nurse of the Fortress, it is my duty to take care of the people who work here, and that includes you!"

He chuckled at her puffed cheeks, she looked adorable when she was mad, and it was a challenge to take her seriously sometimes. He sipped his tea before looking at her, smiling.

"I'm okay, you don't need to worry. I don't need help-"

"Yes, you do! I can clearly see that you are extremely tired, and I have caught you working way past time lately!" She interrupted him, her tone stern but also caring. She looked at him in the eyes, dead serious. "How long has it been since you got a good night's sleep?"

His eyebags wouldn't let him lie his way out of this one, he couldn't actually remember the last time he went to bed and woke up feeling replenished. He frowned and looked down, having no answer to Sigewinne's question.

She scoffed at his reaction, closing her eyes and sipping her tea. She then placed her cup down, looked back up at him, and smiled. "Now that we've reached an agreement, I'll ask the guards to put up the flyers."

Writohesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. "Fine."

And that's how you got into the Fortress of Meropide as Wriothesley's assistant.

You had been working as the Duke's assistant for a few weeks now, helping him handle paperwork, running errands for him around the fortress, and on the surface, basically helping and doing everything and anything to make things a bit easier for him. It wasn't all that hard, a bit hectic but you actually enjoyed what you were doing.

Your presence had completely changed Wriothesley's routine, he was now able to finish his paperwork in time every day and got to sleep correctly again. Sigewinne had teased him continuously about how he was doing better now thanks to her idea, and he couldn't help but admit that she was right, he did need help.

On top of allowing him to get back on his feet and feel alive again, it was an actual pleasure to have you around. He was reluctant at the idea of an assistant at first, he got to know you however with time and was actually not disappointed. You were a smart and gentle individual, always ready to help and accomplish tasks with a smile on your face, even the tedious ones. Whenever you had free time, you would bring him tea along with some sweets, which he highly appreciated. This imposed a timeout on him, which wasn't actually so bad. He enjoyed chatting with you, whether it was about work or whatever else.

Everything was going well, except for one thing. Everything was great, everything you did was perfect. You were perfect.

Writohesley couldn't keep his eyes off of you at times. Generally, he thought you were beautiful, your smile melted his heart, the way your cheeks reddened whenever you stammered or were unsure softened him, and the way you dressed pleased him, especially when you wore somewhat revealing clothing- shit.

It was hard for him to keep focus on work at times because of you, but forced himself to stay put. He could handle the situation well, but it was challenging at times.

On hotter days, like today, you would wear skirts without tights, leaving your thighs exposed for Writohesley to admire. Your skin looked so soft, and the way they looked when you sat made him want to dig his fingers into them so badly.

He could handle admiring your form, it wasn't the first time he had seen a beautiful woman in his life, he just had to put in a little more effort to stay focused.

He did almost lose his mind at one point though.

He was reading a dossier, holding it with his right hand and toying with his handcuffs with the other, spinning them around. He looked up at you once he was done to give you a new order but he caught you looking intently at his handcuffs, a light blush on your cheeks. Once you noticed his gaze, your eyes darted to his and you lightly cleared your throat, cheeks brightening. Oh, the dirty things that must have been going through your mind.

Ever since then, those same dirty fantasies have invaded Writohesley's mind, making his work, as well as something else, harder. All he could think of was cuffing you up and manhandling you.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. Focus, Wrio, you need to finish this by noon.

"Is everything alright, sir?" You enquired, sitting across from him also handling a report file.

He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. Your gaze was caring, worried, and so sweet.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, could you get me some iced tea, please?" He needed something to soothe him as well as the growing heat in his pants.

"Of course!" You replied, a big smile on your face. You got up immediately and turned to make your way out of his office. You accidentally bumped some files on his desk in the process though, papers falling to the ground before you.

"I'm so, so sorry! I'll-I'll gather everything!" You stammered, bending down to pick up every loose paper and file, unintentionally flashing Writohesley while doing so.

He could see everything, the back of your exposed upper thighs, your beautifully shaped ass, your laced panties-covered crotch. Oh Archons, how could he keep his composure before such a sight?

Wriothesley cleared his throat again, this time to grab your attention. You squeaked, stood up, and spun around quickly, a messy pile of papers in hand. You were expecting to be scolded for your idiocy. You gulped as you looked into his darkening eyes, his face was deadly serious. You were done for.

"Don't think that what you just did is, let's say, inappropriate?" He questioned, a slight smirk emerging. Your terrified expression turned into a confused one, which he chuckled at. You weren't even aware of what you were doing to him, how cute.

"Your skirt is quite short you know, you should have kneeled down instead." Your eyes widened, realising what had just happened. You frowned and looked down, face becoming as red as a tomato. You placed your hands behind you, covering your behind with the papers.

"I-I'm sorry! I-... I didn't intend to give such a view..." You were so embarrassed you were barely able to pronounce the last part. You sighed ashamed. You wanted to dive into the deepest parts of the sea and stay there.

Toying with you was fun. "You know, it's not the first time your clothes have bothered me. To be fair, you sometimes dress quite inappropriately for work." He took out his handcuffs and began playing with them like last time, catching your attention once again. He grinned, canines showing. "Don't you think that, as your boss, I should reprimand you?"

You bit your lip, intrusive thoughts clouding your mind. That didn't go unnoticed, it only made his smirk grow wider.

"Go on, finish cleaning your mess up." He instructed, eyeing the rest of the papers on the floor. You did as told, kneeling down this time.

He got up from his chair as you placed the paper mountain on his desk. You watched carefully as he came up behind you, you didn't dare to turn around though.

"Hands behind your back."

"H-huh?" You turned your head to look at him, his frame hovering over yours, eyeing you down.

He cocked his eyebrow. "Want me to repeat? Hands behind your back." His voice was stern, he was doing his best to hide his lust.

You did as told, and soon enough you felt the cold feeling of metal around your wrists. He had handcuffed you. You choked a little on your breath, not expecting this to happen. Your darkest fantasies were coming to life, but you couldn't let your mind get the best of you, you were already embarrassed enough.

"You see, being naughty like that isn't very nice, you've been making things hard for me lately." He placed your hands on his clothed dick as he spoke, rubbing against them. Your breathing was shaky, and his pants felt so tight against him, that you couldn't help but imagine what he was hiding underneath.

"Since you're to help me, I thought you could also help me with this." He pressed his dick against your hands once more, letting out a shaky grunt. "Will ya?"

You nodded timidly, still not believing what was happening. "Good. Come on now."

He leads you back towards his desk as if he were leading a prisoner. Being treated this way was making you feel hot and bothered, but you loved it. He put his hands on your shoulders and with slight pressure instructed you to kneel down before his chair, which he would sit on soon after. He began undoing his belt, his pants coming soon after, all the while being attentively observed by you. He chuckled as he saw your big eyes look at his shielded cock, mouth agape with impatience. He finally slid his bottoms down a little, revealing his girthy dick to you, tip slightly swollen and shimmering with precum. You bit your lip at the sight, mouth-watering. He was so close, it was so close.

His hand came to caress your cheek tenderly. "Open your mouth for me, baby. Tongue out."

You opened up, tongue sliding out. You looked up at him, waiting for his next command. His hand travelled up to your hair, grabbing a handful lightly, before tugging your head down towards his dick.

As your tongue finally met his throbbing tip, you flicked it against it, tasting him. Salty but tasty. You began licking his tip, tongue swirling around it, pressing against his slit, doing all you can to take in all of that sweet precum. Wriothesley moaned lowly above you, hand caressing your hair now, encouraging you, praising you.

"Come on, don't be shy, take me in." Your mouth wraps around his wet tip, making its way down slowly. He was thick, but there was so much saliva that you were easily able to swallow him whole on the first way down, making him curse under his breath. You began slowly bobbing your head up and down, tongue against the underside of his dick.

"That's good baby, keep going." It felt so good he couldn't help but let his head fall back, breathy moans and curses leaving his lips as he tugged on your hair, instructing you to pick up the pace. You were doing your very best to go fast, but he was so big and your mouth so small that your cheeks began to hurt and so your pace began to falter.

He looked back down at you with glazy eyes, only to be met with lustful eyes looking back up at him, your mouth around his dick, drool dripping down from it. Fuck. The sight made something snap inside of him, it made him feral.

He got up from his chair, standing up before you, making sure your mouth never left his dick. You let out surprised noises around his cock, making him groan from the vibrations. He placed both his hands on your hair, gripping it hard enough to keep your head still and thrust into your mouth. You moaned around him with each thrust, both from pleasure and from slight pain, but mostly from pleasure.

"Look at me, baby." His husky voice sent electric shocks all day down to your core, making your thighs squeeze together. You looked up at him, the mere sight of his expression being almost enough to make you cream.

You look at him, tears in the corners of your eyes, cheeks red, drool all over, was enough to send him over the edge. He buried himself deep within your mouth and, with a loud groan, his cum sprung out onto your throat and into your mouth.

"Fuck." He panted, thrusting slowly to get every single last drop of his cum out before sliding out.

He grinned as he saw your puffed-out cheeks, your mouth filled with cum. He put his hand on your chin, grabbing it gently. "Swallow. All of it."

Your eyes widened at the command yet you swallowed the thick liquid without hesitation, small tears coming up from how weird it felt when it slid down your throat. He grinned and patted your head. "Good girl."

He picked you up from the floor with ease, making you gasp. He placed you down, feet on the floor, facing his desk, your legs against it. Your hands were still bound behind you, and your wrists started to ache a bit. He pressed up against your back, hands grabbing at your hips as he nuzzled your neck, taking in your fragrance. You tilted your head to the side, giving him enough room to pamper your neck with kisses. He licked long slow strips along your veins. You moaned, your core growing warmer with every passing second.

You felt something hard poke your hands, he was still hard. Mustering up some courage, you grabbed his cock with both your hands, it fits perfectly between them. You started pumping it, long slow, and sloppy strokes. He groaned against your neck, biting down hard. You both moaned and groaned, you from his sucking and biting on your neck, him from you pumping his dick.

He suddenly pulled his hips away, freeing his length from your heavenly grip. One of his hands went to your back, pushing your upper body downward against the table. "Stay there."

"Yes, sir." You whispered, body engulfed in pleasure.

He bent down, face in front of your clothed crotch. He pressed his nose against your wet panties. Oh, you smelled intoxicating. He pulled your panties and skirt down, the cold air of the room hitting your hot pussy suddenly, making you shiver.

Writohesley licked his lips as he admired you in all of your glory, folds glistening from how excited you were. He leaned forward, placing both his hands on your thighs, and lay his tongue flat on your pussy, licking slowly up.

"Mh, you taste so fucking good." He groaned against your folds, suckling on your sensitive bud. You were becoming a mess, unable to control the sounds leaving your body as he lapped at your wet pussy. You almost screamed when his teeth grazed your clit.

He suddenly got up, spanking you with one hand as he did. "Quiet down, will ya. Do you want everyone in the Fortress to know you were being bad? Do you want everyone to know that your boss is punishing you?"

You shook your head no frantically, going to bite your lower lip in order to keep quiet, but he placed one of his hands on your mouth all the way from behind. With his other hand, he pumped his length a few times before lining it up to your entrance, his tip getting wet as he pressed against you. He pushed inside you, not letting a single second go to waste. He needed you. Your moan was muffled by his strong hand, eyes rolling back. He was filling you up so well, touching your cervix with his tip with the first push. His other hand was on the handcuffs, holding them tight to keep you in place. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his head inside, and then snapped his hips forward, pushing back in violently.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He whispered into your ear. Your little screams were silenced by his hand, he repeated the same movement over and over again, until you could barely hold yourself up, your legs trembling. His low grunts and your muffled sounds filled the room along with the wet obscene sounds your cunt was making with each thrust.

His grip on your mouth and chains suddenly tightened, his pace picking up. He was practically fucking you into his desk right now, each thrust more powerful than the last. You were barely keeping yourself together, drooling into his hand, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed; you were a mess beneath him, and he loved seeing you like this. With each thrust, he stroke all the good spots, making you come undone rapidly. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him drove him crazy, he wanted more of it, more, more. 

“Look at your tiny cunt, hugging my dick so tightly. Are you coming for me, princess?” You could only moan and groan in response, making him chuckle at your condition. He kept going, his pace never slowing down, milking your pussy of its juices. 

After the second wave of full blown pleasure washed over you, your legs began to wobble, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore and your knees started to bend. He didn’t let you fall though, he quickly let go of your face and hands and held you up by the hips effortlessly.

“We aren’t done yet babygirl.” The side of your face rested on the desk, your mouth agape, raspy, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Your throat was dry from all the screaming, you surely wouldn’t be able to talk properly afterwards. He pounded into you rapidly, his rhythm becoming sloppier with each passing moment, he was getting close too. For someone who had instructed you to be quiet, he sure was being loud now, but neither of you cared. 

“So good, so fucking good for me.” He groaned, leaning forward, placing his forehead on your shoulder. His rapid breathing on your back sent shivers down your spine. You felt another orgasm building up, and you knew Wriothesley was close too. 

“Wrio- I’m going to…” You could barely speak, every word you uttered being followed by loud gasps.

“I know, baby, I know. Just wait a little.” He hushed you, gripping your hips with so much strength his knuckles were turning white. After a few more pushes, he was losing it, groaning loudly on your shoulder. “Come for me, y/n. Come!”

You moaned loudly, your third climax hitting you like a truck. Your walls clenched his member, that was the last straw for him. He bit down on your shoulder, moaning as he did so. His cock pushed deep inside you and stopped there. His cum came spurting out into you, the warm and thick liquid filling you up, some even dripping out of you and onto the floor. 

After a short while, his teeth finally let go of your flesh and he pulled out slowly, more cum dripping onto the floor as he did so. You opened your eyes as best as you could and looked back hazeley only to find a flushed and panting Wriothesley trying to catch his breath, still holding you up.

He then picked you up and sat you down on the desk, taking a set on his chair afterwards. You both sighed of relief, finally relaxing a bit after that experience.

He looked at you and smiled kindly, then looked at the mark on your shoulder and his smile turned upside down. “Sorry about that.”

You put your hand on your shoulder, massaging it to soothe the stinging pain. “It’s okay, it isn’t too bad.” Your smile made his worries die out. 

You started to feel a bit chilly, after all your bottoms were still on the floor. Before moving to dress yourself, a question came to your mind. You looked him in the eyes. “So, should I stop dressing the way I do from now on?”

Writohesley smirks, his head resting on his fist. “I won’t forbid you from dressing the way you want, but you must assume the consequences that will come with it.” 

At first, you blush, knowing well what he was referring to, but then you return the smile, answering with a confident tone. 

“Oh don’t worry, I will.”

© wrayah, 2024

[mcflymemes]

"WE CONSTANTLY FLIRT EVERY TIME WE MEET BUT IT'S NEVER GONE ANYWHERE" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for that one pairing that can't stop flirting with each other no matter what, adjust as necessary, nsfw implied

don't make promises you can't keep, darling.

i'm pretty sure you said that to me last time.

everyone else bores me. not you.

you're the only one who ever held my attention.

i'm quite a fan of yours.

this is how it always has to be.

i suppose we're just going to keep doing this?

you always find a way to surprise me.

you're getting better at this, you know.

have you ever considered... us?

now now. not in front of my friends.

behave yourself, or i'm warning you...

when did you start looking at me like that?

i never knew you felt that way about me.

i'm not crossing a line. you are.

i thought you promised to behave.

we talked about this last time.

have you ever thought about what it might feel like to kiss me?

i've only ever thought of you.

wipe that cute, smug look off your face.

i wish you would take this seriously.

what does this mean to you? is it serious, or just flirting?

that's not what you used to say.

keep talking like that and i might end up in your arms.

you know me better than anyone on earth.

is that your way of asking me to bed?

you say that every time, but you never mean it.

how long have you been staring at me?

you're looking rather beautiful tonight.

you flatter me, dear.

everyone knows you want to fuck me.

i could use some time with you. alone.

what if i kissed you right now?

do you touch yourself when you think of me?

you know all my hiding places.

figured you'd find out i was here.

have you been keeping an eye on me?

do you ache for me?

you know my blood better than my heart does.

you must be so lonely.

everything is easier when you're here.

i hate that i think of you.

i wish you would just kiss me.

it's a shame we can never be together.

this is just flirting. this will always be just flirting.

that's not what you usually say when we're alone.

must you always make things so complicated?

you give me such a headache.

oh please. don't flatter yourself.

does it ever get tiring, being so beautiful?

the song made me think of you.

this isn't normal for us. acting this way.

i thought you liked keeping things at arm's length.

i know, i know. you don't want to get involved.

you're the one who started flirting, not me.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave

Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.

He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.

Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!

Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!

Jason: What the hell are you doing?

Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.

Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?

Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.

A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.

Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.

Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.

Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.

Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.

Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.

Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.

Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.

Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.

Jason: First day?

Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.

Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.

Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.

The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?

Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.

Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?

Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.

Danny: Sure, why not.

Danny looks at the headstone.

Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.

Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?

Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.

Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.

Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*

Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?

Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.

Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.

Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.

The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.

Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.

~~~~~

Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.

Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.

But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.

~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~

Dick: How did you two meet?

Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.

Bruce: What? Who dared?

Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.

Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.

Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.

Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.

Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.

Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.

~~~~~

Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.

Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.

Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.

~~~~~~

Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?

Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.

Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.

Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?

Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.

Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.

Jason: Whore?

Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.

Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.

~~~~~

Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.

Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.

The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.

~~~~~

In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?

~~~~~

Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.

GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.

Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.

~~~~~

Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.

[taesanluv3r]

nicest guy.

kim woonhak x reader

inspired by bnd's MAMA performance! the hyungs getting their baby ready for prom night! taesan's a menace and yn's dad is hard-headed, also woonhak has his license in this. lowercase intended. cuss words, kiss scene. pls ignore any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 3,810

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you're going to prom in that?!"

with the way jaehyun was staring at him, you'd think kim woonhak had showed up in a jersey and sweats. "what?" the young boy asks before taking in a deep gulp, an uneasy feeling sprouting up his body at the way his hyungs eyed him down. "it's not bad is it? i mean it's a suit...?" he questions, eyebrows curling into a pose of doubt. to be fair, he wasn't wrong, it was a suit...a suit that belonged to his dad way before his time, that is.

"i mean...apart from the fact that it's a billion years out of style and like- three sizes too big on you...i guess it is a suit!" taesan chuckles, prompting riwoo, who stood beside him, to do the same. "yeah! i mean i wouldn't be caught dead in that, but a suit's a suit...i guess..." the backhanded statements made the youngest boy roll his eyes, whining as he slumped down onto the couch in the boys' shared dormitory.

"hyung, what do i do? i mean in a couple hours i have to go pick the yn ln up from her house and then i'm supposed to give her the best prom experience in the world and i can't even pick the right outfit?! i mean, how do i expect her to say yes to being my girlfriend if i can't get anything right?! i'm such a loser!" the older guy's looked at the boy with sympathy, watching as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"woonhak..." sungho starts, taking a seat beside him. "don't say that...you're more than just a loser" - "yeah, cause he's a huge loser!" taesan butts in, "dude, can't you see the kid's stressing? leave him alone!" leehan says, striking the menacing one upside his head. "don't listen to him, broski...i mean, yn did say yes to your prom-posal, didn't she? that's something!" woonhak nods along to the word's of his older friends, beginning to gain back the confidence he had lost just a moment ago.

"yeah! and besides, the outfit isn't that big a deal...we'll just have to fix some things..." jaehyun says, "mhm, and we can help you with all of that. we are, after all, your beloved hyungs" riwoo smiles, pressing a hand onto the boy's back in reassurance. "now come on..." he continues, beginning to pull woonhak up from the couch.

"...if you're planning to confess your love to yn tonight, then we got some serious work to do!"

"operation: turn loser woonhak into gentlemanly woonhak so that he can win over his long time crush who's lowkey out of his league, is a go- ow! quit hitting me!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"hm..." leehan squints, his pointer finger pressed against his lips. "try the red one again..." woonhak rolls his eyes, taking off the tie around his neck for what felt like the billionth time. "how about the blue-" - "hyung, seriously? i've tried the blue one on like- four times already!" leehan laughs at the boy's annoyance. "okay fine, at least try on the purple one, please?" the younger of the two obliges, throwing the last of the ties on. "oh, gross! red it is...use the red tie" woonhak almost throws a tantrum, "seriously?! all that work for you to pick the first one i put on? she better love this tie or i'm gonna crash out" leehan smiles with his eyes, leaning over to pinch the other's cheeks.

"beauty takes time, baby"

"bro, stay still!" sungho exclaims, holding their maknae down by his shoulders. "i'm trying to but you plus a giant curling iron is kind of freaking me out!" the older one scoffs, "don't be such a baby, it's not like i'm gonna burn you! and how do you expect me to fix this mop on your head if you keep moving, huh?" woonhak sighs, giving up on fighting back; he wasn't going to win anyways.

"now hand me the hairspray..."

"and five, six, seven, eight and- no, no, no!" riwoo shakes his head and slaps a hand onto his forehead. "what? what am i doing wrong? those are literally the right moves!" poor woonhak, his head's just moments away from exploding. "it's the beat, dude! you need to stay on beat! how do you expect to win this girl over if you can't dance on beat? start over from the top" riwoo claps his hands, bending down to rewind the song on his phone.

"and five, six, seven, eight..."

"uh...hey...um-" - "stop, stop, stop!" taesan shoves a palm in front of woonhak's face. "you really like this girl and you're about to ask her to be your girlfriend. this is something you've been waiting for your whole life and you start with...uh...hey?" the other boys laugh at his spot-on impression of their youngest, "c'mon woonhak, you know you can do better than that! here, i'll show you an example" jaehyun chimes in, asking sungho to stand in front of him. "pretend sungho is the girl, okay?" woonhak nods, watching closely like it were lesson worth half his semester grade.

"first, you want to get her alone, somewhere nice so that it's just the two of you. hey sungho, follow me..." jae begins, reaching a hand out for sungho to take. "then, you want to give her something that shows you care, say...a rose-" the guy is interrupted, "she prefers tulips though" woonhak states, making the others smile. "fine, then give her a tulip..." jaehyun continues, picking up a pen from the coffee table to use as a prop. "here, this is for you..." he says, handing the "flower" over to sungho who gasps comically, sending the group of guys into a fit of laughter.

"guys, shut up, this last part is the most important. you gotta remember this, woonhak"

the maknae nods, beginning to take mental notes. "you have to speak from your heart" woonhak's eyebrows furrow in confusion, "what do you mean?" leehan pats his back from beside him, "he means this is the point where you have to confess to her!" jaehyun nods, "yup! and we mean really confess. tell her how you feel, why you feel that way, really sell it to her" taesan butts in again, "you gotta show her that being with you is worthwhile" sungho agrees, "vulnerability helps! ask her to give you a chance, tell her how much she means to you" riwoo joins in finally, "and then, when she says yes, kiss her under the moonlight- for a bit of romance, of course"

woonhak sighs, taking all the information in. "if she says yes..." the older boys watched as doubt took over his complexion. "hey, don't say that!" jaehyun says, clicking his tongue. "yeah, bro...i know i keep calling you a loser and all, but that's just part of your charm- i mean, you're a nice guy, woonhak. and once you add our advice to the mix, she'll be yours in no time!" taesan's words are sincere, though his stoic expression said otherwise but that's just how he looks.

"if you say so..." the boy trails off, breathing deeply as he began to stand up again. "i have to go pick her up now...wish me luck, please" his hyungs shoot him big smiles, almost tearing up (jaehyun fully cried) at the sight of their youngest all grown up and ready to take on his first prom. making sure his tie was on straight and fixing the loose strands of his hair, they finally send him out the door, watching as he gets into the car and begins to drive away.

"goodluck, woonbaby! we love you!"

"fighting! go get her!"

"make hyung proud, woonhak!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

'this is it woonhak...it's time to face her...and her parents...shit i completely forgot about her parents...fuck...well, don't just stand there, woonhak! ring the doorbell!'

ding dong!

the boy could hear a quiet rustling noise coming from behind the door. he waited patiently for an answer, fixing his posture and checking his reflection in the window in the meantime. he closes his eyes and takes a couple more deep breaths before the creak of an opening door brings him back to reality.

a man, who was the spitting image of his crush, stood before him, yn's dad. woonhak clears his throat before bowing slightly, "hello sir, my name is kim woonhak and i'm here to pick your daughter up for prom" the lack of answer freaks the boy out as he reaches a trembling hand out for the man to shake. "s...sir?" he squeaks out, voice raising by a couple octaves.

"honey, who is it at the door?" a sweet female voice breaks the awkward - and fearful - silence. "is that yn's date?" she asks before emerging from behind the man at the door. if woonhak thought yn's dad was the spitting image of her, well then her mom must've been her twin! "oh- uh, hello mrs ln, i'm woonhak! your daughter's date...i'm here to pick her up!" the boy stutters a bit but manages to finish his sentence. the tension in his body slowly began to exit out when the woman laughs happily, grabbing his shaking hand and inviting him right into their home.

"sorry about my husband, sweetie, he's just a bit of a hard-head and he just isn't quite set on the idea of his baby princess already going to her first prom! sorry if he gave you a hard time" mrs ln was kind, she spoke in a way that made the air-conditioned room start to get warm. "oh, not at all...you have a lovely home, by the way" woonhak started to feel comfortable, gratefully taking the cup of tea he was offered. "well aren't you just the sweetest, yn's still getting ready- you know how us girls are! i'm just gonna pop in up there and let her know you're waiting, okay?" the boy smiles as he nods, "thank you"

the next ten or so minutes felt like hours as the boy awkwardly tried to make small conversation with his date's dad in the living room. "so...uh...do you like baseball...sir?" he stutters as he makes eye contact with the framed baseball jersey that hung on one of the walls. mr ln nods, "yup, i dabble. do you?" his monotonous tone paired with his expression-less face made poor woonhak's heart beat out of his chest. "yeah...yeah i love baseball, used to be my biggest dream to be a baseball player" the man laughs, scaring the boy a bit, but he tries to play it cool. "a scrawny kid like you? baseball? right..." he wasn't gonna lie, that did hurt his ego a little, and if it weren't for the fact that he was the father of the girl he loved so much, kim woonhak would've lost it right then and there.

the sound of footsteps emerging from up the stairs interrupted the two guys from their conversation - if you can even call it that. "and now i present to you..." mrs ln begins, standing at the top of the steps. "princess yn!" she announced, a familiar giggle following as a figure appeared beside her. "mom! i told you to stop calling me that!"

there she was. woonhak's mouth fell agape as he got up from his seat, almost stumbling from the sight before him. she had on the prettiest dress, embellished with all kinds of tiny silver jewels. it hugged her body just right, her hair flowing off of her head so effortlessly, as if she just woke up like this. yn ln looked perfect, just...

"beautiful"

"you don't look too bad yourself" her honey-like voice shakes the boy out of his thoughts. "huh? oh! um, hey" the girl giggles, her nose scrunching in the process. "i like your dress" woonhak smiles, feeling nervous from the sudden close proximity; when did she get from the top of the stairs to standing right in front of him? "thanks, i like your tie- the red looks good with the suit" yn's compliment makes him blush and he makes a mental note to thank leehan later.

"oh, aren't you two just adorable? come here, let me get some pictures for facebook!" mrs ln beckons, tilting her head to direct the pair over to one side of the room. "okay...one more...and...done! aw, aren't they just lovely? right, honey?" mr ln grunts, "i guess so..." another tense silence submerges the space. yn clears her throat, "well! we'd love to stay and chat but i think woonhak and i should get going now!" her date nods, "mhm! yup! it was so nice meeting you guys, thank you for the tea and for letting me take your daughter to prom- it really means a lot" the man and woman nod along to the boy's words, "of course, sweetie. you two stay safe!" mrs ln speaks as she follows them out the door.

"we will! love you guys, i'll see you later! and dad? please stop staring at him like a psycho, thank you"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you good?" woonhak asks, watching as yn strapped her seatbelt on. she smiles sweetly, "mhm, are you? sorry my dad's such a weirdo" he laughs, finally starting to feel less nervous. "he called me a scrawny kid...what does that even mean?" she giggled, "well, that's dad for you...don't let it get to your head, hakie..." her usual nickname for him made his heart skip a few beats, "and if it's any consolation, i think you're perfect!...now let's go, i'm itching to get on the dance floor" woonhak tries to ignore the compliment, not wanting it to distract him from driving safely to their prom venue - aka their high-school gymnasium.

and off they went.

the drive didn't take much time at all, being that the ln household was only eight minutes away from the school. upon arriving, woonhak parks his car amongst the others in the lot. he gets out first, scrambling to make it to the passenger's side in time to open up the door for yn and help her down.

she giggles, beginning to step out of the vehicle as he takes her hand in his softly. "thank you. when did you get so gentlemanly?" the boy sticks his chest out with pride, "i kinda took a gentleman crash course before picking you up, honestly" yn laughs, "just for me?" woonhak wiggles his eyebrows before dramatically bowing, "all for you, princess yn" the girl playfully pushes him to the side, "you meeting my parents might've been the worst thing ever!" the boy rolls his eyes, "at least we got that out of the way, right?" she nods, "c'mon! party time!"

the prom was just like what they've always dreamed of. drunk on non-alcoholic beverages, people sweating their make-up off on the dance floor, and of course, sharing stupid smiles with their friends and their dates. as the time passed by the music went from ballads to clean versions of the latest pop releases, and the buffet of food prepared on every corner of the gym had slowly decreased. students were having the time of their lives, some had left to make-out in the hallways, other's had decided to leave the campus completely.

woonhak watches from beside the bowl of fruit punch as his date stuffed her face with all sorts of cheeses from the charcuterie board. how'd she look so cute just doing whatever? that can't be legal. somewhere amidst his staring, the boy felt a presence on his shoulders - or rather, he felt five very familiar presences on his shoulders.

"pssttt, woonhak!" the imaginary voice, that sounded eerily similar to myung jaehyun, calls. the boy's face contorts in confusion. huh? he thought before another voice spoke. "it's time! remember what we taught you!" that one sounded an awful lot like riwoo. "go shoot your shot, woohak! fighting!" a third voice that was a mix of leehan's and taesan's finished. before he could even gather any of his thoughts, an invisible force pushes him straight towards yn.

"hakie! you have to try this...it's gouda with herbs! i fucking love cheese...hey...you okay?" the last of her sentence came off worried, her eyebrows tilted upwards. "yeah...um...i think i just need some air, come with me to the football field?" the girl agrees without hesitating, grabbing one last slice of the creamy dairy concoction before beginning to walk towards the back exit of the gym. woonhak follows close behind, sneakily snatching one of the tulips from the vase at the very end of the buffet table.

step 1: get her alone...done.

"wow...the sun's setting already!" yn twirls around happily as they entered the empty field, the cool air hitting their skin and causing goosebumps to emerge. woonhak smiled, he always found himself smiling at her. "hey..." she called, starting to walk towards the boy. "you sure you okay?" he shakes his head but quickly switches to nodding, very rapidly. "mhm! yeah, i'm fine...uh...here!" he suddenly exclaims, pulling the stolen flower out from behind his back. she jumps in shock at the sudden gesture but giggles sweetly as she retrieves the single tulip.

"did you steal this from the buffet?" yn questions, sticking an eyebrow up jokingly. "um...no...?" woonhak lies, though the dumb grin on his face said otherwise. "well, thanks anyways...tulips are my favourite" she stares at the pink plant lovingly, finding it fascinating the way the setting sun began to illuminate against it's petals. "i know they are" they share another smile, and he watches as she tucks the flower into a loop on her dress, right by her hip.

step 2: a gift to show you care...done.

the first two steps to his hyungs' three step guide had been successful. the boy felt a little more confident now, just one last step left...the hardest of them all, it's time to confess.

"hey, hakie" - "hey, yn" the pair speak in unison, both abruptly pausing. "you first" they jinx again, laughing softly. "you first, hakie" yn says, to which woonhak nods. the boy takes a deep breath before taking one step closer to her, "yn..." he trails off, grabbing both her hands in his. his chest in pounding, he swears she could feel his heartbeat through his wrists. "what is it?" she asks, a tone of genuine worry laced within her words.

'speak from your heart...tell her how you really feel'

"listen yn, i like you. i like you a lot! you make me really happy and you make me laugh and sometimes you make me really really nervous" the girl's mouth opens to speak but he doesn't let her, not yet. "i think i've honestly liked you for like ever! i mean how could i not? you're awesome- er- i mean, you're amazing and cool and just ah! you're perfect and- wait, wait, let me finish first and then you can react" she giggles at the obvious excitement underlining his nerves, nodding and allowing him to speak. "and i know that i can be a huge loser sometimes, and totally un-cool, and i can't even be twenty percent sure that you like me in any way but..."

woonhak pauses to think - and to catch his breath.

'show her that being with you is worthwhile'

"yn, if you gave me a chance, i swear i will be the nicest guy you'll ever know - i mean, i'll treat you right and i'll cherish you with my whole heart literally for the rest of my life. yn, i...i love you and...i might melt and scream and cry if you ever felt even a smidgen this way for me..." the boy straightens his back up as he breathes in once more, "yn ln...would you...maybe, possibly...would you like to be my girlfriend?"

he didn't know when or how, but somewhere amidst his monologue-like confession his eyes had started to well up in tears, a single droplet slipping down his cheek. "you...you can react now, yn" the girl only smiles, letting go of one of his hands to graze her own against his face, wiping away that single tear.

"oh, hakie..." she prolongs, focusing on the way his lips quivered in hope and in slight fear. "first of all, you don't need to swear on anything! i know for a fact that you're the nicest guy in the whole world..." the expression on his face softens as her hand moves back to holding his. "you know, it would've saved you a lot of time if you had skipped the whole speech and just asked me straight-forward" he's confused now, his mind is all over the place and he can't seem to understand what's going on. "why...why's that?" he musters under his breath; his breath that only got heavier. "cause..."

"i'd love to be your girlfriend, loser"

the boy's eyes widened, was he hearing her right? was this really happening? finding the look on his face ever so amusing, yn breaks into a fit of loud and happy laughter. it felt as though a mass production of fireworks had just erupted around them and the empty field held the same warmth as the gymnasium that swarmed with people. the pair are frozen, she doesn't know what to do next and he's searching his brain for an answer.

'when she says yes, kiss her under the moonlight'

with his heart full and beating straight out of it's socket, woonhak uses light force to pull yn closer, pressing a passionate kiss on her lips. it takes a second for her to register the gesture, just a second before she had completely melted into the moment. the couple smiled into the kiss, letting out bashful giggles as they held each other tight - youthful and happy right under the moonlight.

"hey, what were you gonna say before? like- before you told me to talk first?" the boy spoke, their lips still in contact. "mmm...i don't know, it was probably not important, whatever...kiss me" he laughs, ridding of any extra space between them.

step 3: tell her how you really feel...done...and kiss her under the moonlight...ongoing.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"and then the gym teacher caught us kissing on the field and told us not to so we decided to get in the car and end the night there and...yeah! that's it"

the five older boys cheered as their maknae recalled the fresh sequence of events. "well done, woonhak! i knew you had it in you" sungho says, patting the boy on his shoulder. "yeah, me too...i never doubted you for a second!" taesan followed, causing everyone to roll their eyes and sigh.

kim woonhak giggled almost manically, screaming as he flopped onto his back on the carpeted floor. "wah! i can't believe i'm officially dating the yn ln...pinch me, i must be dreaming!" - "don't actually pinch him, taesan"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

WAAAAA first loooooooongggg fic in a while!!! cant believe i actually finished this. i wrote for 4 hours straight lololol been thinking of this since MAMA so!!!!! hope u guys enjoyed it, ill try to write more soon. love, kona.

perm taglist:

@en-dream @candycane-lemonade

[animeomegas]

I live for you and your writings <3

Anyway, I do have a request if you would like to fill it!! - how would the naruto boys (itachi, neji, sasuke, naruto) react to a stranger telling their pup off or/ scolding them for a small little mishap that happened while their back was turn? And they only realize it after a good few minutes of their pup being shouted at?

Hehe ty for all your hard work

Thank you so much!! You're so sweet <3 I really, really loved this prompt; it has taken me so long to finish, but I wanted to to it justice! I've just done Naruto and Itachi and Sasuke. But I really hope people enjoy this one!

WHEN A STRANGER SCOLDS THEIR PUP (Omega! Itachi + Naruto + Sasuke)

ITACHI

Itachi's eldest and only son, Yasu, was a very independent and responsible little boy, even though he was only 7.

So it came as no surprise when Yasu asked if he could wait outside the nesting shop instead of coming in with Itachi, because it was a beautiful day and he wanted to stand in the sun.

Itachi was originally hesitant, but with his newborn strapped to his chest, he begrudgingly agreed, knowing that it would be unfair for him to expect Yasu to be mature when it came to his baby sister, without giving him any of the benefits of that maturity.

"You must stay touching this wall at all times," Itachi said seriously, taking his little pup's hand and pressing it against the front wall of the nesting shop. "No leaving this wall unless you're coming inside the shop to find me, promise?"

"I promise," Yasu said, a serious smile on his little round face. "You can trust me, oma."

"I know, my love," Itachi whispered. He pressed a kiss to Yasu's forehead. "I won't take long."

"Okay, don't worry, oma, I'm a big brother now!"

Itachi laughed gently, standing and patting his son on the head as he did. His son was so much like him, and yet nothing like him at all.

But things only stayed sweet for about ten minutes.

Because as Itachi was wandering around looking for a new blanket for Yasu (a strategy other parents had recommend so that he didn't resent his new sister for taking up so much of Itachi's time), he heard crying.

He heard Yasu crying.

He dropped the basket to the ground with a clatter and ran out of the shop as quickly as he could, cradling his newborn safely to his chest.

What he saw caused a flash of anger so hot, he wasn't surprised when his sharigan activated on instinct.

There was a man, towering over his son, shouting and spitting at him, a large finger pointing accusatorily at Yasu's face.

Yasu's face was red as he choked on his tears. His little hand was still pressed up against the wall, but it now shook in time with his sobs.

Itachi's fingers latched onto the man's wrist with an iron grip, twisting the arm with the precision of a shinobi, just enough to hurt, but not quite enough to break. All at once, those shinobi instincts came flooding back even after all these years. He wanted to hurt this man for making his son cry, and he knew full well that he could do it.

"What do you think you are doing shouting at my son?" he said coldly, instead of breaking the man's spine like he desired.

The man's face went pale immediately. Itachi squeezed his wrist harder when the man didn't immediately reply.

"I- I-" the man stuttered, losing even more colour from his face. "I was just..."

"Not good enough," Itachi said coldly, sharigan spinning. The man whimpered pathetically. Itachi had no patience for bullies, especially those targeting his family.

Itachi held eye contact with the man for a few moments longer before he suddenly released the grip he had on the man's wrist and deactivated his sharigan. The man stumbled backwards and just barely avoided falling to the floor.

"Leave," he said coldly. The man wasted no time in doing as he was told and Itachi, despite having been the one to tell him to go, had to supress the urge to follow and eliminate the threat to his pup.

"O-Om-oma- oma," Yasu choked, tears and snot streaming down his face. He held one arm up in the universal request to be picked up, but he seemed too scared to stop touching the wall and approach Itachi himself. "O-Oma, I-I- didn't-"

Itachi suppressed the anger as best as he could and dropped down beside Yasu so that they were eye to eye. Yasu immediately barrelled into his side, still careful to avoid his baby sister.

"I'm so-sorry, oma, I didn't me-mean to! He said- he said- but you said I- I- couldn't move a-a-and-" he wailed, pushing his face into Itachi's collar bones and gripping his clothes tightly.

Itachi shushed him, "It's alright, sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong." He rubbed Yasu's back firmly, anger burning through his veins as he felt his pup's tiny shoulders shake. While Itachi didn't know what had caused the conflict, there was nothing that Yasu could have done to warrant such a disgustingly aggressive reaction.

His newborn, clearly unhappy with being smushed, soon started up her own wailing, until Itachi was crouched outside the nesting shop with two distraught pups.

Itachi could feel himself becoming frazzled as none of his attempts to calm either child worked at all. People were giving him looks, some kind and some less so, and while he had never cared much what random people thought of his parenting, it was a stark reminder that he was far from the safety of home.

"Itachi?"

Itachi actually sighed in relief when he heard you come up beside him. You were planning on meeting him here after he finished shopping, but thankfully, you seemed to be a little early.

Itachi didn't waste any time greeting you, he simply scooped the wailing baby out of the sling on his chest and passed her to you.

"What happened?" you asked, sounding baffled as you accepted the infant and immediately began soothing her. Itachi ignored you and readjusted Yasu so that he could hug him properly. The boy cried heavily into his shoulder, but at least Itachi could fully cocoon him and keep him safe from the outside world now.

It took a few minutes, but with two pairs of hands and the ability to pick Yasu up properly, both the pups started to settle, their wails turning into little sniffles.

Itachi's face must still have promised murder however, because you kept your eyes focused warily on the surroundings and didn't ask for clarification on what had happened again.

"We're going home, darling, I promise we'll be there soon." As far as Itachi was concerned upset pups needed to be at home where it was safe, so he immediately abandoned the idea of finishing his shopping.

You followed his lead and you both made it home in record time, Itachi holding Yasu and you cradling the baby. Neither of you spoke as you walked. There was a mutual understanding that you'd address what happened after you were safe.

By the time you got home, both pups had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

"What happened?" you asked quietly as you gently closed the front door behind you. "Is Yasu alright?"

Itachi took a breath to smother the barely contained burning rage, "Some fully grown adult," he emphasised the word like it was the worst insult possible, "thought it appropriate to shout at Yasu when he was waiting outside the nesting shop."

"For what reason?" you asked, baffled and angry.

"I don't care." Itachi's voice was tinged with a growl and his hands flexed protectively around Yasu. "I believe he was too frightened to get the words out regardless."

You snorted, "Good."

Itachi's smile was tinged with gleeful cruelty, "Indeed."

NARUTO

When people asked him what he disliked most about being Hokage, Naruto would always make a joke about paperwork.

That answer wasn't exactly incorrect, as he did find the paperwork tedious and irritating, but it wasn't actually the part he disliked the most.

The part that he disliked the most was how much the job kept him away from his family.

Especially his three-and-a-half year old son, Riku, who was the most precious person in the world and who was also having a hard time adjusting to Naruto not being at home as much, even though it had been almost a year since he took up the role.

He tried to make as much time as he could for Riku, sending a clone to tuck him in at night, spending his lunch break eating with him (and his mate) in his office, hell, Naruto even had a tiny pair of noise cancelling earmuffs in his desk so that Riku could sit on his lap while Naruto heard mission reports.

It wasn't perfect and it didn't feel like enough, but it was all the Naruto could do at the moment.

And today was one of the days that you and Riku would be joining him for lunch in his office.

Unfortunately, a spontaneous mission debriefing had started before he could slink away for lunch.

And while Naruto knew that it was not this team's fault that their mission had increased in rank and thus required an immediate verbal debrief, (this had happened to Naruto himself more times than he could count), he was finding it hard not to feel frustrated with the group in front of him.

They were keeping him away from his son which was making him antsy.

A glance at the clock confirmed that his family were certainly waiting for him outside by now, and the guilt was difficult to push down.

It was at that moment that the door to his office suddenly creaked open. Naruto's eyes jumped automatically to it as the team leader stopped speaking. Naruto's secretary knew he was in a meeting, so who was at the door?

At a much lower height than expected, the intruder's chubby little cheeks peaked nervously around the door. His tiny hands were held cautiously to his chest while he chewed on his bottom lip, but it was the head of bright blond hair that had Naruto's heart jumping into his throat.

It was Riku.

Naruto was already half way out of his seat when Riku finally saw him. His whole body relaxed and a smile crept onto his face as he toddled into the room. Naruto felt his own exhaustion melt away in response; his son was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

"Oma!" his son cheered. "You're here!"

Naruto laughed, forgetting all about the debrief, as he moved around his desk. "Of course, I'm here, silly. Where's appa? How did you-"

Suddenly, another person entered the room, his face twisted angrily. He grabbed Riku by the wrist, startling him and Naruto in the process.

"What did I say?!" the man, Naruto's secretary, demanded, squeezing Riku's wrist. "I told you to wait quietly, and that you weren't allowed in yet, but you barged your way in when my back was turned! Out! Right now! I'm so sorry, Hokage-sama, I won't let this happen again."

Naruto had heard far worse from far scarier people when he was Riku's age, but Riku wasn't like him. He wasn't capable of the bravado and retaliation that Naruto had used to limp through his childhood, no. Riku was a sensitive child. He needed everyone to like him, to be gentle with him, and Naruto knew that he wouldn't be able to cope with such blatant negative attention.

Naruto watched as his pup's anxiety spiked, and he felt his heart drop in response. Riku's wide eyes bubbled over with heavy tears that covered his little flushed cheeks. His mouth moved like he was trying to speak, but he was simply too frightened to get any words out.

Naruto's secretary was not happy with the lack of movement. "Out, now!"

Riku was frozen, and when the man tugged him, knocking him off balance, all the colour drained from his face and his breathing became harsh and disjointed. To make things worse, his darling pup, who had only been out of nappies for a short few months, lost control of his bladder from fear.

Naruto saw red. A wave of killing intent swept over the room. It was so strong that Naruto was distantly aware that his guard was shifting nervously where they were hidden, and that several members of the debriefing team had fallen to their knees. Naruto only had eyes for one person though.

Naruto's secretary dropped his hold on Riku like he'd been burnt and fell heavily into the door frame, shoulder first. Naruto had fought in a war, but he'd never moved as fast as he did in that moment, as he planted himself between his secretary and his son.

"Get. Out," Naruto ground out, somehow keeping control of his voice. Naruto had never attacked a civilian, and he didn't want to start now, but if this man wasn't out of his sight in the next three seconds, something was going to snap.

Thankfully, the man didn't need to be told twice. With a terrified face and wobbly limbs, he stumbled out of the office with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. Naruto felt no guilt when he heard the man retching on the floor.

Wasting no time, Naruto spun around and grabbed his pup up and into the safety of his embrace. He didn't pay any attention to the dampness, and some of the furious anxiety left him as soon as his instincts registered that his child was safe with him.

Riku was still very stiff, but he did reach out and grab Naruto's collar. His breathing was worryingly sporadic.

Naruto cooed and purred at his pup, rocking him gently from side to side. His rage was still bubbling below the surface, but he kept his outward presentation comforting and gentle.

"Oma's here," he whispered into his pup's hair. "Oma's got you. You're safe, Riku."

Naruto sat back down in his chair and arranged Riku on his lap so that he was cocooned in his Hokage's robes. He then grabbed the earmuffs from his desk and slipped them over his pup's ears to help him calm down.

The team that had been debriefing were still stood awkwardly in front of his desk. They were all back to standing upright, but they seemed unsure of what to do seeing as it was hardly appropriate to continue the debriefing, but they also hadn't been dismissed.

"You guys can go. Just leave the report on my desk."

They all bowed and scurried out of the room.

Naruto ended up sitting there in silence for a few minutes, just processing what had happened while he calmed down his son.

He hated using his power to make others afraid. He loved being a friendly hokage that everyone could trust and look up to. But he had been so angry that he had lost control.

He was still angry, if he was being honest with himself.

And he also felt guilty. Because that small part of him that always questioned whether this job was a selfish desire, was suddenly so much louder.

This wouldn't have happened if he had been at home with his family for lunch like most parents with young children.

He was broken out of his thoughts when you arrived, fresh from your bathroom break, having walked into the aftermath of chaos.

Of course you were there; you always joined them for lunch, it had just escaped Naruto's mind until you were in front of him.

Riku had calmed down a lot, but he was still staring at the wall, holding Naruto as tightly as he could with his little hands.

"What happened?" you asked quietly, coming straight over to him and Riku. You smoothed a hand over Riku's hair and crouched down beside him. He kept one hand on Naruto and latched the other one onto your hand as soon as you were in range.

Naruto just shook his head, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. "Let's just head home. Riku needs a change of clothes and a nice bath with lots of bubbles."

To your credit, you didn't ask why, you simply nodded and allowed Riku to bury himself in your arms while Naruto gathered his things. He wasn't coming back into the office today, and he told you as much.

"Are you sure?" He pretended that your surprise didn't hurt as much as it did.

"Yes," Naruto said shortly. He needed to find a better way to balance his job and his family, because this just wasn't cutting it.

"Okay," you said easily, rocking Riku. "Let's head home then. We can talk there."

SASUKE

Some people called Sasuke an overprotective parent, but Sasuke knew that his parenting style was entirely justified.

If someone was rude to his daughter, they deserved to have their life ruined as far as he as concerned.

If teachers made up lies about her, Sasuke would refuse to listen.

If his daughter was bullied, Sasuke would go and... speak... to the parents of the bully to 'encourage' them to be better parents.

This was an entirely normal response in his opinion. That was his daughter, his child, and while he sometimes struggled to verbalise his love, his daughter would never question his dedication to her.

She was still only seven, and needed his protection.

One day, when he was walking to meet her halfway from school, he noticed that she wasn't alone.

A tall woman, much too old to be a peer from school, was standing close, shoving her finger in his daughters face. His daughter didn't look cowed. She was staring, with her arms crossed, but this didn't stop the woman from her tirade.

She started shouting about how rude his daughter was, and how that was to be expected when her oma was the village pariah.

How dare she?!

He acted without thinking.

The kunai flew from his hand before Sasuke had even registered the movement, piercing the hand of the woman who had been pointing aggressively at his pup's face.

She shrieked as the pain registered and blood began running down her arm. Sasuke watched, stoic faced, as he walked towards them. The only emotions her pain brought to him were positive ones.

His daughter whirled around and he was privileged enough to see her face turn from confused to delighted as she recognised him. She was truly the light of his life.

"Oma!" she cheered, happily. He nodded back, a small smile on his face. He was proud to see that she didn't look scared at all, but that certainly didn't excuse the adult that had been shouting at her.

"Are you crazy?!" the woman hissed, holding her hand to her chest. Her face was twisted with rage and pain instead of fear, which cemented her in Sasuke's mind as an idiot. "They'll take away your shinobi licence for this!"

Another kunai found its place in his hand. These kunai really had a mind of their own today. "Are you threatening me? After you so blatantly attacked my daughter?"

"Attacked?! That rude little-"

The kunai flew from his hand again, this time flying less than an inch from her ear. It shut her up immediately.

"Choose your next words carefully." His daughter came over to his side and hugged him around the hips. He rested a hand affectionately on her head.

"I'll be reporting this to the hokage," she hissed. Sasuke was not scared; the worst thing Naruto would do is give him a disappointed look. His lack of fear must have shown on his face because the lady stormed off, far less injured than Sasuke would have liked.

Sasuke watched her go before he knelt down to his daughter's level and scanned her from head to toe. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She grinned at him and adjusted her school bag on her shoulder. "That asshole couldn't have scared me if she tried."

"Language," Sasuke admonished gently, poking her in the forehead.

"Am I wrong, though?"

Privately, Sasuke agreed. "Let's just head home, your appa should be along any minute."

When you did meet up with them, you had to listen to your daughter singing about how she had the coolest oma in the world.

And when you wholeheartedly agreed, Sasuke could no longer keep the blush off his face.

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 1st Prompt: Secret Relationship

Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Part of what drew Steve to Eddie was his dramatics. His charisma, his hands flying everywhere, his bright, happy smiles and dark, narrowed eyes. His penchant for pulling a strand of hair in front of his face when he was embarrassed.

Eventually Steve learned he also pulled out that little trick when he’s turned on at an inopportune time.

They’re halfway through a movie in his trailer when he pulls a strand across his face, practically chewing on it as his gaze stays on the screen.

Steve snickers, breaking his concentration. “Really, babe?”

Eddie sends him a startled look, blinking a few times. “What?”

“What about this has you turned on?”

Eddie turns the color of a fire truck. Steve can’t look away. “It’s not- I didn’t- it’s not really that,” he mutters, looking down and shifting in his seat. “My brain ran off again.”

Steve puts a couple fingertips on Eddie’s jaw, gently guides his head up and over to look at Steve. He kisses him, hums when Eddie falls into it like he knew he would. “Tell me,” he murmurs, voice low.

Eddie swallows. “Um,” he says. “Okay, so it is kinda that? I was just thinkin’, like, how- how protective you are? And how you’d willingly do that? And how you kinda already do. For me. Because you think…” his throat clicks. “Because you think I’m worthy of it.” He shifts again, blush coming back full force. “And, uh, I was kinda remembering last time someone said something to me, and how you handled it, and fuck, Stevie, I was scared at the time so I didn’t really, like, process? But that was hot as hell, sweetheart-”

Steve pulls him into a kiss, laughing into it a little. “So if I were to say you’re not subtle in the least, and I already knew you like when I get like that, and if I maybe play it up a little for you-”

“Get your pants off,” Eddie says seriously, grabbing at the hem of Steve’s shirt. “Stevie, baby, I’m so serious, help me out here-”

They’re halfway through shedding clothes when the trailer door opens to reveal Wayne. He blinks, surprised, then turns around to shut and lock the door. “If I could see neither of you naked, that’d be ideal.” He sighs again as they scramble to put their clothes back on. “How long has this been happening?”

Eddie’s voice is small when he answers. “Um. Seven months?”

Wayne does the math. “Since you woke up.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Y’all decent?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, sir.”

He turns to face them, raising a brow at the way Steve seated in front of Eddie, protectively. He watches the way Eddie tugs his hand, the way Steve turns to pay attention to him while keeping his eyes on what he deems the threat—Wayne. “He’s not gonna do anything,” Eddie murmurs.

“Like hell I’m not,” Wayne grumbles. “Imma get a beer. I’ve been waitin’ for the two o’ ya to get your heads outta your asses an’ you’re tellin’ me it’s been done for months already?” He shakes a teasing finger at Eddie. “You gotta tell me these things, boy, I ain’t no mind reader.” He grabs the beer, collapses onto his chair with a sigh. “Long as you don’t have sex anywhere I got reason to be, I don’t much care what you do,” he says, popping the can open. “‘M happy for you,” he says finally, softly. “I know why you didn’t tell me, folks can be stupid and blind when it comes t’this. Long as y’know y’got me on your side.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers, looking close to tears. Steve reaches for his hand, watching Wayne with an indescribable look on his face.

Wayne nods at him. “Y’love my boy?”

He watches as Steve takes a breath, centers himself. “Yessir.”

“Wayne. Sir was my fucko of a father.” He tilts his head at Steve. “I reckon y’know what that’s like.”

Steve nods. “I do… Wayne.”

Wayne nods back. “Good. So y’love him. I can tell from your eyes I ain’t gotta tell you what’s gonna happen if he breaks your heart.”

Steve shakes his head. “Whatever I end up doing to myself will be much worse than anything you can throw at me.”

Wayne nods. “Welcome to the family. In this house, sex happens in Eddie’s room or not at all.”

“Or the shower,” Eddie mutters, and Wayne rolls his eyes.

“Theodore Wayne-”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, but his grin says he’s not very sorry. Damn boy’s gonna be the end of him one day, he’s sure of it.

“An’ y’all know how t’be careful,” he surmises, “seein’ as how you been seein’ each other for the better part of a year an’ I’m jus’ now findin’ out about it.” He nods, thinks through the points he want to bring up. “I reckon if you can keep it down, it can happen while I’m home, but seein’ as the walls are made of damn cardboard, we’ll have to see ‘bout that one. Might hafta get earplugs or somethin’.”

That’s it, he thinks, so he turns to Steve. “Y’catch the game on Sunday?”

Steve’s eyes light up even as Eddie groans and tries to get his boyfriend up from the couch. “Okay, Wayne, thanks for not hating us, but we were kinda in the middle of something-”

“You can wait,” Steve says dismissively, pulling him back down on the couch. Wayne would say something, but he can see the way Eddie’s pupils dilate, even from way over here, and he takes a drink of beer instead. Some things don’t need to be voiced.

He thinks through everything they’ve said, everything their body language has said even when their mouths haven’t. “You haven’t told any of your friends yet.”

Steve and Eddie exchange a look. “Robin knows,” Steve admits. “Pretty much the moment it started. But no one else does.”

Wayne hums, takes another sip. “And what’s that Mayfield girl think about your car bein’ here at all hours of the day an’ night?”

Steve and Eddie exchange a look. “We… don’t know, actually.”

“Well, I suggest you tell her somethin’ soon.”

Steve nods, biting his lip. Eddie’s still lost in thought. “We will,” he says, shifting. “Um. Thank you for being so… understanding.”

“Well, considerin’ I don’t gotta get my hands dirty tryin’a get you two together, I’d say it worked out rather well, all things considered.”

Steve snickers. “I agree.”

Wayne nods to the TV. “What’re you watchin’?”

Steve blinks, like he’d just realized the TV was even on, and chuckles. “I have no idea,” he says honestly.

Wayne nods. “Grab a beer,” he suggests. “I’ll turn on baseball.”

Eddie groans. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Bring your campaign binder out here.”

“Fuck off!” Eddie calls from his room.

Steve snickers. “He was already planning on doing that.” He cracks open his beer. “Who’s on?”

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt # 12: Wanna Help Me Win a Bet?

So our scene opens with an older team Phantom (Everlasting trio, Jazz, Val, and Dani) at a bar/club of some sort in New York. They're all catching up on how their lives are going (college, work, internships, milestones, travels, wacky happenings, etc.). Somehow the topic shifts to romantic relationships and the gang begins ribbing Danny for his awkward teen romances. He was an absolute disaster at flirting even if his exes found it charming at the time. It's all good-natured and fun.

Then Danny's like "Hey well least I've improved now" which earns him an eyebrow raise or two. The gang goes "Oh yeah? Prove it. Bet you 100 bucks you can't get that person's number" *points to an attractive black-haired individual sitting at the bar*. And of course, since Danny isn't one to back down from a bet and has his pride to defend he goes off to flirt with a stranger.

On the flip side, we have a Batfam member (or other black-haired DC character) of your choosing (you already know my fav is Jason) sitting at the bar. Why are they there? Idk maybe it's for a case? Maybe they wanted to meet up with friends outside of Gotham? You decide. Anyways, the point is that their minding their own business when a fairly attractive twunk walks up and starts hitting on them awkwardly. And man, this guy is not smooth in the slightest but he's dorky and awkward and kinda cute. They talk to him a bit, teasing and doing some light flirting back. They aren't taking him too seriously, really they're more amused than anything else.

Finally, the guy kinda just gives up trying to be smooth and sighs. He looks at them with a serious look on his face and goes "Look I'll level with you, my friends over there bet me a 100 bucks I wouldn't be able to successfully flirt with you. I'm gonna lean over and whisper in your ear and if you could just agree laugh like I said something witty and give me your number then I'll split the cash with you."

Then he leans over and whispers "Whaddya say, wanna help me win a bet?"

And they let out a genuine laugh and go "You know what? Sure, why not. You're not half-bad and I won't say no to an easy 50" and they grab a napkin, pull a pen out of seemingly nowhere, and give Danny their number (and their Venmo/PayPal/cash app or whatever). They hang out a bit more that night before going their separate ways. A day or two later they get a notification that someone sent them $50 and a message "wanna get coffee/lunch/dinner sometime?"

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

[leonw4nter]

A Little Tipsy But Massively In Love

Husband!DI!Leon x F!Reader

“Honey, is something wrong?” you ask your husband. He’s been keeping a hand on a portion of his jaw, occasionally wincing and hissing; he has also been making repeated trips to the fridge, looking for anything cold to place on the part of his face that seems to be bothering him.

“No, ‘s fine.” he promptly responds as he shoots you a half grin, clearly in discomfort. He gets back to placing a cold bottle of water against his face, letting out a small breath of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. Leon’s avoided talking and moving all day, just giving you a thumbs up, a nod or a few words which you find odd; he’s always been very vocal about what he thinks or feels so this is certainly a little new.

“C’mon honey, I can clearly tell something’s bothering you,” you softly say.

“It’s nothing.” he softly mutters.

“It’s not nothing. You’ve been holding your jaw all day. Got a toothache?”

He finally turns his head to you, finally nodding his head bashfully towards you. He promptly looks away though, training his gaze somewhere as the tips of his ears redden in embarrassment; he’s certainly experienced pain much worse compared to a toothache like getting shot or hosting a parasite in his body but something as minuscule as a toothache renders him unable to perform mundane daily tasks.

“Hm. I can check if there’s swelling in your gums. Is that okay with you?” you gently ask.

“Mhm,” he softly hums. You take your phone and turn the flash on before telling Leon to open up and to your slight surprise, he actually opens his mouth for the sake of opening it and doesn’t go “It all started on September 30th, 1998…”; this toothache might be a lot more uncomfortable for him. Sure enough, there’s a swelling and protrusion in a portion of his gum just right after the last molar. You finally tell him to close his mouth and he puts the cold water bottle back on his cheek.

“There's swelling. Let’s take you to the dentist tomorrow, it looks pretty serious. Might be a wisdom tooth thing.”

“Sure thing, doc.” Leon quips with a half-grin though the grin immediately falls back into a frown.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After scheduling a visit to the dentist, he deduced the swelling and protrusion to an erupting wisdom tooth which he suggested extraction. 3 days later, you two come back to the clinic. While waiting for your turn, you hold Leon’s hand and brush your thumb repeatedly at the back of his hand and give him encouraging words.

“Don’t worry, Leon. You’ll be fine, I’ll be right here waiting for you okay?” you softly encourage.

“And I won’t make fun of you if you’re still woozy from the anesthesia. I promise,” you add with a small giggle.

“But you’re giggling,” Leon points out with a pout.

“I promise! Seriously! Pinky promise!” you say once more as you lift your pinky finger, to which Leon links his own pinky with and gives you a small kiss to the temple.

“I’ll make sure to lug your 5’11 self to the car and drive you home, don’t worry. Just focus on feeling a lot better, mkay?”

“For someone who got their wisdom tooth pulled out eons ago, it’s a surprise you’ve got some words of wisdom for me,” Leon jokes which prompts you to roll your eyes.

“You have a hidden talent with these jokes so I suggest you keep them hidden,” you sarcastically say.

“Ouch.”

A nurse comes into the holding room and reads the last names off of her clipboard.

“Patient 5, Mister… Kennedy. Mister Kennedy?”

“Here,” he says as he stands up. He turns around and gives you a small hug. “See you later, hon.”

“Mhm. You can do this, Leon. It’s going to be just like a walk in the park.”

“Right. Just like a walk in the park.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

45 minutes later, the dentist comes back to you and informs you that the procedure went smoothly and they managed to get the tooth out without much trouble much to your relief.

“Your husband will be a little woozy from the anesthesia so expect behavior that is similar to a drunken person– slurred speech, nonsensical babbling, and slightly wobbly. He’s still asleep right now but you should expect him to wake up in a few minutes or less,” he informs you. He rips off a paper from his notepad and hands it to you, explaining some more things like Leon’s medications, proper care, and pain relief. After a few minutes, you walk into his room and see him still asleep; his right cheek was swollen, gauze stuffed in the inside of his right cheek. He looked a little funny at this moment, which caused you to take your phone out and snap a few photos for safe-keeping (maybe as a new contact photo for his number). Soon, he wakes up though he is a little dazed and confused at his surroundings so you help him through it. He must really, really be confused because as you help him put his shirt back on, he tries to push you away and do it by himself. His movements look as if he’s actively trying to avoid you, not even lifting his droopy eyelids to take a look at you, which you found a little bit odd. He did accept help from you, just very hesitantly; when you decided to hold on to his bicep, he pulled his arm away and almost stumbled down but you managed to grab him back and successfully managed to get him into the car without any other troubles.

While driving, you noticed that he would often steal glances from you through the rear-view mirror with squinty eyes but once you two met gazes, he would promptly look away. The situation felt a little funny: Leon sitting at the rear passenger seats, very woozy from the sedatives administered and him acting like a little kid; you decided to seat Leon on the rear passenger seats instead of sitting in the front with you in case he decided to act irrational whilst still not in the right mind, which could cause an issue with trying to drive home peacefully. You found yourself giggling a little bit but nevertheless you kept your focus on getting home safely, which you managed to do. After a few minutes of helping Leon and asking him if there’s something that’s bothering him and reassuring him that you’ve got him, you successfully manage to get him in your shared bed. You were just about to help him undress and take his shirt off to switch him into a more comfortable piece of clothing but he inches away and grabs your wrist.

“No… my wife won’t be very happy seeing you touch me like this,” he quietly mumbles as he tries to put on a serious expression but fails with one side of his cheek looking a little more round than the other.

“Huh?” you mumble.

“I’m a married man, miss. My wife won’t be happy and I’m not happy either.”

“Leon, what are you talking about?”

“Nuh-uh, miss. Only my wife can touch me like this, this is kidnapping… though you know where to bring me…”

“I am your wife, Leon,” you softly say as you tenderly pat the hand with his wedding ring and smile sweetly at him. You immediately realized that Leon didn’t notice that you were still there and very much his wife. It all comes together now: due to his disoriented state, he didn’t know that you were the one taking care of him this entire time and mistook you for another person, therefore causing him to avoid being touchy with you.

He stares you down for a bit, a cold and calculating gaze effectively analyzing and figuring you out but you can tell that he’s also trying to get himself together. The moment he recognizes you is comical– his eyes lighten up and a lopsided grin forms on his lips, a small amount of gaze poking out of his mouth. His next action pulls a loud giggle from you: he takes two fingers and places it against the pulse in his neck, blushing when he realizes his heart is absolutely trying to break free from the confines of his ribcage.

“‘M sorry, baby. Feeling a lil drunk, right now,” he apologetically mumbles whilst keeping that goofy grin in his face.

You place a kiss on his forehead before helping him out of his shirt, this time with him cooperating with you and raising his arms above his head.

“It’s fine. Good to know we’re locked and loaded in this marriage,” you joke with a raised eyebrow. Finally, you finish helping him with his other clothes and jump into bed with him. Propping two pillows behind you, you sit up and get into a comfortable position so you can read your book for the time being wherein you need to watch over him.

“My cheek kinda hurts,” he quietly groans. You shift to comfortably move to his position, looking at the cheek and trying to see if there was more swelling.

“Right here,” Leon points. You scoot a little closer to get a better look but don’t see any swelling.

“Honey–”

Before you could ask him how bad the pain is since you don’t see his cheek look a little more swollen, he gently cups your cheek with one hand and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose which causes him to hiss in slight discomfort due to his movement.

“Leon! It’s going to hurt more!”

“I need a kiss to feel better,” he retorts.

“You’ll get that kiss when we get that gauze out of your mouth and you can finally have some water.”

NOTE - Hey y'all I made it out alive of my 1 and 1/2-day school camping trip but I'm just rlly tired rn so I'm sorry for a lot of the errors that were probably in here (I didn't sleep the entire night... and I've been moving nonstop for the past 24 hours until 9AM of today...). Despite being really tired, I still had so much fun :)) We did zip lining, a rope and obstacle course, rappelling, and wall climbing (which i suck ASS at- like I literally fell and slipped like twice but dw I'm fine since I was attached to a harness; I was the only one unable to complete the climb in my squad 💀). There was a tree whose name literally translated to "deer balls" because the fruit resembles a deer's dingleberries... that was a little funny ngl. Also my cat went missing and I miss him so much please come back 😭😭😭 Anyways, that's it and expect my next fic to be camp-inspired since I came up with the idea whilst at my camping trip. Thanks for reading my fics, I appreciate it TONSSS. I <3 you !!!!

The heart dividers were made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[mypoisonedvine]

eddie munson with 90. "is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?", with fem!reader

I didn't use the exact line of dialogue just the concept, I hope you don't mind! I love this request though!!

warnings: just fluff and a wee bit of angst along the way, friends to lovers, 'unrequited' love (the love is requited they are just stupid)

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"Admit it-- you'd let him do anything he wanted to you," Robin laughed teasingly.

"Honestly? Yeah, probably," you agreed as you bit your lip.

"What if he's, like, a freak or something?" she wondered. "Like what if he's into something really fucked up?"

"It would still be hot, 'cause it's him," you decided.

"So if he came up to you right now, and said 'hey, you're cute, wanna come back to my place and take a bath with me in a tub of mayonnaise?' you would..." she prompted.

"I would ask if he knows where I can get bulk mayonnaise for a discount," you grinned.

"Ew! You hate mayonnaise!" she grimaced.

"Yes, but I love him," you explained.

Just then, Eddie hopped up to your table, straddling one of the attached benches with a smile. "Woah, who do we love?" he asked.

"Eddie, you can't just barge in to a private conversation," Robin corrected with a frown.

"Private? I can hear the girlish giggling from the theater room," he scoffed. "Besides, I wanna know the gossip. You've got it bad for somebody?"

He looked around the room as if he would figure out who it was by examining the students, but Robin shook her head. "It's not, like, a real guy. It's her celebrity crush."

"And future husband," you beamed.

"Would I know who it was if you said it?" Eddie wondered.

You thought about not telling him, but it didn't really matter, because Robin blurted it out. "Probably-- it's Kirk Hammett, from Metallica."

Eddie's eyes went wide for a second, before he grinned and leaned one arm against the table. "I guess I should take that as a compliment."

You laughed softly in confusion. "What?"

"You know-- 'cause I look like him!" he announced excitedly.

Robin tilted her head as he stared at Eddie. "Oh yeah!" she said. "You know, now that you say it--"

"No," you shook your head, "you're not like him."

"Yes I am!" he laughed, though it sounded more like a sound of bewilderment than amusement. "Come on, are you serious? People say it all the time!"

"Well, they probably just say it cause you play guitar."

"And the hair?!" he yelped, shaking his mane around for emphasis which made Robin snort.

"Lots of guys have long hair nowadays!" you rolled your eyes. "That doesn't mean anything. Robin's blonde, doesn't mean she looks like Goldie Hawn!"

"Wait, I don't?" Robin asked sarcastically, feigning offence.

"It's not just that-- you seriously don't see it?" Eddie pouted. "Look at me-- I mean, really look at me."

You did, narrowing your eyes slightly as you examined him; he held his arms out as if to show himself to you, which did give you a better view of his arms and ink, but you frowned and shook your head. "I just see Eddie," you shrugged.

He deflated a bit. "Right, well-- anyways, did we get Robin to share her celebrity crush?"

"That was the next order of business," you explained with a smirk, and you both put your attention on the girl across the table.

"Nope-- my lips are sealed," Robin assured.

"If we can guess her name, will you tell us?" Eddie asked.

"No, I'll never--" she started to insist, but the two of you were blurting out names already.

"Brooke Shields!" "Kim Basinger!" "Ooh, Annie Lennox!"

"Guys," Robin groaned, rolling her eyes, but she was starting to blush, too.

~

You and Eddie were sitting side by side on the ground, backs leaned up against the outer wall of the school; his knees were bent and his arms were draped over them, while you sat with your legs overlapping as you tied wildflowers from the lawn into a daisy chain.

"You're quiet," you noticed.

"So? There's not much to say," he replied.

"When has that ever stopped you from running your mouth?" you smirked, looking up at him, but he wasn't smiling back at you so yours sank. "You've been quiet for a while."

"Guess I'm not that peppy today," he decided, staring forward at his fingers as he mindlessly spun one of his rings around.

"Not today," you explained, "like, all week. Is everything okay?"

He shrugged a little as if to say, it doesn't matter.

"Seriously, just talk to me," you pleaded. "Whatever it is, I wanna help."

"You can't help, okay?" he snapped,

"I can't stop thinking about what you said," he admitted. "When you and Robin were talking about your celebrity crush--"

"Listen, Eddie, I'm sorry if I don't see a resemblance, but it's not that big of a deal--"

"No, no, not that," he sighed, "I meant... what you said after. That you just see Eddie."

You knit your eyebrows together, not sure what he was getting at. He finally looked back at you, and the sadness in his eyes made your breath catch.

"That's all you're ever gonna see, isn't it?"

You sighed a little, looking away for a moment. "Ed, not this again--"

"C'mon, babe, you know I'm crazy about you," he sighed, tilting his head until it leaned against the wall behind him. "And I know every excuse you've given me-- you're not ready for a relationship, you don't want to ruin what we have, you don't want to bring me into your messed up brain-- but if you're into this guy who looks like me but you don't want me then... then it must just be that I'm awful, right?"

"Eddie, no," you denied with a pout, but he scoffed and looked ahead again.

"It's okay, I get it," he sighed. "I wouldn't wanna date me either. You deserve all the fancy stuff, y'know? Getting driven to cool dates in a nice car, hanging out at his house and not, you know, a dirty old trailer--"

"I don't want all that stuff," you assured, moving in closer to him. "I want somebody sweet and fun and smart--"

"I knew it's 'cause I can't fuckin' graduate," he mumbled, but you put your hand on his arm to get his attention.

"Eddie, you're not listening to me," you scolded. "It's not you, it's me. And I know that's a cliche but it's true."

"How can it not be me?" he rolled his eyes. "I'm a freak, and a fuck-up, and a flunk-out, and you're basically perfect--"

"Oh my god, you're, like, my dream guy, okay?!" you spat out, louder than you meant to. He finally shut up, and looked at you like he could finally see it-- like he finally knew. "I always liked you," you continued, a little softer and shier than before, "but I knew if I... if we ever actually, you know, went for it, I'd just mess it all up. And you're the last person I'd ever want to hurt--"

He cut you off with a kiss: a sudden, sweet, hungry kiss that caught you off-guard for a second before you melted into it.

It wasn't that one kiss could make all your fears about a relationship go away... but it sure could make them seem a lot less important. And it definitely could help convince you that it was worth the risk.

When he pulled back, he held your face even as you tried to look away to hide it. "Sorry," he said, taking his hands away slowly, "I just had to do that."

"Oh, Ed," you hummed, "you're so cute I could die."

He got a little red in the face, which only made the cuteness more apparent. "Aw hell," he snorted, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "You think I'm cute 'cause I look like Kirk?"

"No," you smiled, "I like Kirk 'cause he looks like you."

[milksuu]

Don't Worry. I'll Support You. | PT. 01

❥ prompt: Your HEARTSTEEL boyfriend has to undergo minor surgery, and they chose you to be their caretaker for the day. Let's see how they are before and after anesthesia. ❥ content/warnings: fluffy fluff, drugged behavior (all medically safe), mention of needles, mild profanity, minor angst ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel! (aphelios, ezreal, kayn) x girlfriend!reader

an: i don't know why this was tumbling around in my head. wow, this post got longer and longer the more i wrote. i swear I'll write for the other babes too.

APHELIOS

Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the first time Aphelios had to undergo surgery. Happened when they had to remove the nodule from his vocal cords. And he doesn't remember a single thing from that day. Alune took care of him at the time, but she never mentioned anything beyond how he slept most of the day (probably to spare him from embarrassment).

He appreciated you taking a day off work to take care of him and be his interpreter. He was fine with all his consents and paperwork. But when it came to more detailed questions concerning his medical history, he would have you translate his sign language to the medical staff. Thanks to you, the process went smoothly.

IV's were never fun to have. Especially when it had to be in the hand. Aphelios couldn't lie and say he wasn't nervous about it, despite his aloofness. But all he had to do was shift his eyes away for a moment, and look at your cute, bubbly face. He could tell you were rambling on trying to distract him, and he guessed it worked. By the time he looked down again, the IV was in. He denied the golden star sticker usually meant for the pediatric patients, but you took it for him as a momento.

When it was time for him to go into the OR, the medical team gave you two a moment. You slipped a hand into his and gave him two love squeezes. He smiled softly and gave three love squeezes back. A quick peck to his lips and you left to sit in the waiting room.

When he was brought to recovery and awake, you were taken to his bedside. When you stepped through the curtain, you saw him resting as if he were asleep at home. Slowly, he opened his eyes, glazed over with mild recognition. Although he felt lethargic, he signed sloppily with his hands.

Is this heaven?

You bit your bottom lip to keep from smiling too much. You shook your head and reminded him where he was.

Oh. Really? Because you look like an angel to me. And if they want you back up there. Forget it. I'm keeping you.

You covered your mouth to keep from giggling too loud. You weren't sure if he was being serious or actually trying to flirt with you. It wasn't common at all for him to be so corny, but you blamed the anesthesia for that. When the nurse came to the bedside, she went over discharge instructions while you held his hand. He kept giving you light squeezes and rubbing his thumb gently against your fingers. Just to make sure you wouldn't fly away. Of course, anytime you had to let go and sign a paper, he sighed heavily (almost a whine if he wasn't careful), until your hand floated right back for him to take. Then he was sighing with relief again.

While at home, it was just the same. Aphelios didn't want you to leave his side for even a moment. If he had his way, you'd be sleeping next to him, still holding onto his hand. You had to remind him many times that you had to take care of him, so no cuddles or naps just yet. You also had to remind him he needed to eat and take fluids after fasting for so long. If there was thing you knew, he was a picky eater. Aphelios seriously thought ketchup packets counted as a full meal and satisfied his daily fiber intake. Luckily, you were able to spoon feed him some soup with a couple of crackers.

After you had him take his first dose of medication, you could finally indulge him. You settled next to him in bed, and he took no time to wrap himself around you, nuzzling your chest. A small, sleepy smile formed against his lips. Maybe you weren't a real angel. But you couldn't convince him you weren't his heaven on Earth.

EZREAL

Oh, boy. This was the first time Ezreal had to have any kind of surgery. Even though it was supposedly minor, that didn't stop the nerves itching underneath his skin. Is it normal to be this nervous? He wasn't sure, but he tried his best to hide his chattering teeth behind a forced smile. He really didn't want you worrying about him more than you had too. You were already doing him a big favor by taking care of him. He just hoped he wouldn't be a wreck before and after.

Apparently, signing consent forms and answering medical questions became a challenge. His hand trembled so much, his usual confident signature looked like a preschooler forged it. And when it came to answering medical questions, he found himself stuttering, feeling like someone stuck cotton balls inside his mouth.

When it was time for the IV, his whole body was ready to collapse in on itself. Was it always so hot in here? Sweat dampened the top of his skin. W-What's the big deal anyway? Not like he was afraid of some tiny, sharp...needle....OK, the room was spinning now. Great—awesome. Man, he felt so lame.

Seeing the color drain from his complexion, his head drop back, and his eyelids fluttering close, you politely asked the nurse to give him a moment with you. She laid him down in the stretcher and brought you a wet cloth. Wiping at his damp face and neck, you rested a comforting hand against his heaving chest. "It's okay to be afraid, Ez. It's not easy to have surgery. You're brave for even being here." He shook his head weakly, clenching his eyes tight. "B-brave. Yeah right, babe. I mean, look at me. I'm practically comatose and the nurse barely even wrapped the tourniquet around my arm."

"Brave doesn't mean not being afraid of anything. It's doing something even knowing it's scary." Another wipe of his cheek and you planted a reassuring kiss. "There's no one braver in my eyes right now." Ezreal swallowed the ball of anxiety nested in his throat. A couple of more inhales and he gathered his remaining courage for the next step that had to be done.

You held his hand the entire time the nurse worked to get his IV started. You told him to close his eyes and take big breaths, and it would be over before he even knew it. He did as instructed, and just like you said, it was done. He admitted to you that it felt a bit itchy, but that he could deal with. Oh, but was it so worth it when the nurse offered him that golden star sticker. He slapped it on the chest of his gown like a badge of honor.

When the medical team arrived to take him in the stretcher, he gave you that million dollar smile and peace sign. Granted, you whispered to the anesthesiologist to give him some relaxing medication before he went in. The anesthesia provider was way ahead of you. When he started giggling, waving, and blowing kisses like he was out the sunroof of a limo driving down the boulevard—oh yeah. You knew he was feeling it.

When it was all over and they called you back to recovery, the nurse informed you he couldn't stop talking the moment he opened his eyes. And all that he was talking about was you. "Babe! Babe! I did it—I can't even believe it's over. I don't even remember them putting me to sleep. Crazy, right? Like, did I count down from ten? Did I make it to zero? I bet I made it to zero." He practically wiggled himself over the safety rails on the stretcher. You sweetly instructed him to keep still so that the nurses could get a decent blood pressure on him. "Okay. Okay. I'll be good. Promise." He forced himself to lay back, but that didn't last long. While the nurse was going over instructions, he was tugging on your shirt sleeve, calling your name, interrupting every moment wanting your attention. Apparently, he had a lot to say to you in the span of thirty-minutes you were separated.

When you arrived back home, by some miracle you were able to have him settled on the couch once you put on his favorite K-Drama. While sitting next to him (and making sure he didn't get up) he rested his cheek against the top of your head. "Thanks for everything, babe. Honestly, you make me feel like the bravest guy. Like Indiana Jones....or Captain Kirk...maybe even that...one actor from National Treasure...." before you could say anything back, you felt his body relax further into you. His light breaths signaling he dozed off seamlessly. With a warm smile, you pulled the blanket over the two of you, and snuggled closer before you joined him for a nap.

KAYN

GOD DAMN IT'S EARLY! Kayn wanted to shout when you woke him up for his 6AM arrival time. Instead, he grumbled, kicked on his crocks, and went in his pajamas. He was too tired to really argue and complain. He just wanted to get this done and over with so he could move on with his life.

Kayn didn't diddle-daddle with his forms and medical questions. He wanted to put on his gown, toss himself into the stretcher, and possibly get a few more winks before his surgical time. You sighed—this was going to be the longest hour before surgery.

Although still in a foul mood, Kayn eased a bit when you worked up a distracting conversation with him. And when the nurse came in to do his IV, Kayn didn't bother blinking. He probably stuck himself countless of times with other—probably sharper—and deadlier objects. Actually, he took it one step further. When the IV was inserted, just to mess with you (and the nurse), he made a loud, and seductive moan. You pinched his arm for startling the nurse. Poor thing didn't even know how to react to that nonsense. "Ow. Ow. Nurse—nurse, she's hurting me." He said, cowering away from you. "You deserve that for almost giving them a heart attack. What if they missed and had to stick you twice?" Kayn smirked, rubbing at his nipple line. "More of a good time for me, then." You rolled your eyes, begging for him to behave for the next half-hour.

When the surgeon came to the bedside, he discussed the procedure at length and a few expectations afterwards. When he finished, he asked if either of you had any questions. Kayn raised his hand like the serious kid in math class. "Yeah. Question, Dr. Shen. When can I have sex again?" You almost spat out the complimentary coffee the front staff so kindly gave you. You couldn't believe he had just asked that question so casually at...let's see.... 06:50 in the morning!

You apologized on his behalf, but Dr. Shen merely dismissed it. "That's quite alright. It's a fair question. And one I receive plenty of times from my male patients. Even ones well into their eighties, and surprisingly, nineties." Kayn nodded with a grin and you rubbed your warming forehead. Of course. What else would they bother to ask? The surgeon went on to say; "As far as any kind of exertional activities, that will all be discussed and cleared at your follow-up appointment in two weeks."

TWO WEEKS!? Kayn almost fainted right then in there. He looked at you with such concern, as if someone told him a Pentakill concert sold out before he could even buy a ticket. He reached over and grabbed your hand, holding tight. "Listen, kitten. I don't think I want this surgery anymore. Can we go home now?" You shook your head disapprovingly. After hearing such news, and you not bailing him out, Kayn sulked as if he was getting surgery to forever castrate him.

When it was time to take him, he begrudgingly let you kiss his cheek. Otherwise, he didn't reciprocate your affection. He tossed his chin away and said. "Whatever. Let's just get this crap over with." Once again, he had you shaking your head, and you apologizing to everyone in the room.

When the nurse came to bring you back into recovery, you noticed he was sleeping on his side, back turned to you. You wondered if he was still upset by the whole ordeal. When you reached out to touch his shoulder, he tensed, but slowly turned over. "Kayn. Are you feeling alright? If you're in pain, I'll tell the nurse—" Before you could finish, Kayn reached forward and grabbed you, pulling you into the tightest hug. You felt him bury his face into your neck and shoulder, hands desperately clinging to you.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." You heard him choke up. You brought a hand to gently comb through his hair, asking him what was wrong. He shook his head. "I...I don't know. I thought— just before everything went black—what if I never saw you again. And the way I acted before they took me..." he squeezed tighter, burying his sulking face deeper. "I'm sorry. I love you, okay? Just, trust me on that. Please."

"It's okay. I love you too," you hummed and stroked his back, continuing to assure him. "You don't have to worry anymore. It's all over. You're still here. The doctor said you did so good, and there were no complications." Pausing, you planted a kiss to the top of his head. "How about we get you dressed so we can go home, hm?" He nodded against your shoulder, and you helped the nurse dress him for discharge.

When you brought him home, Kayn wanted to do nothing but turn off the lights, close the blinds, and lay next to you in quiet darkness. Breathe you in, feel your warmth, and listen to the softness of your pulse against his ear. Focus on the fact that he was alive and you were alive with him—nothing else.

[thef1diary]

For Danny Ric! I'm so exited! Fluff 1, Promt 8. I think a debate over the music playing on the car radio would be great. I love Danny's roadtrip vibes.

Road Trip | D. Ricciardo

prompt: friendly debates that quickly end with them laughing at how ridiculous it was

wc: 700+

masterlist 3k celebration

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You're on a road trip with Daniel, cruising down a scenic highway with the windows rolled down, the wind tousling your hair. Daniel's driving, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. The sky is a perfect blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the road ahead is open and inviting. The landscape rushes by in a blur of greens and browns as he drives a little over the speed limit, the hum of the wind providing a soothing background noise.

"Okay, music," you declare, reaching for your phone.

Daniel raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Wait a second, I'm the one driving. Driver gets to choose music right?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I know you're used to driving alone, but the unwritten rule of road trips is passenger has the aux control."

"Oh really?" he challenges, glancing at you with mock seriousness. "I think the driver needs the tunes to stay focused."

"Yeah, well, the passenger needs to keep the driver entertained," you retort, connecting your phone to the aux.

Daniel lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. "I'm the one doing all the work here, steering us safely to our destination. That means I should choose the songs too."

You cross your arms, feigning stubbornness. "That makes no sense, Danny. I'm the one keeping you company, making sure you don't fall asleep at the wheel."

He scoffs, "with your choice of songs, I will definitely fall asleep at the wheel."

You gasp, holding your phone close to your chest. "I could say the same about your taste. You listen to country music."

"Don't disrespect good ol' tunes, darling. You just want to play that one song on repeat," he stated, glancing at you and flashing a grin.

"It's a great song!" you insist, mirroring his grin.

"Great for making me doze off," he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, you know my playlist is solid. It's got everything we need for a perfect road trip," he adds, slightly squeezing your thigh.

You become too aware of his hand resting on your thigh, and in the heat of your debate, you move it away, earning a frown from him.

"Sure, if we want to turn this into a country-western saga," you retorted, unable to suppress a smile. "Besides, variety is necessary. We can't be stuck listening to the same kind of songs for hours."

Daniel laughs, his hand finding his way back on your thigh as he gives in. "Fine, fine, let's settle this. Name a song that's a must for any road trip."

You both throw out suggestions, each defending your choices with increasing passion. The debate grows more animated as you argue over the best songs to keep you both entertained and awake. Daniel insists on the classics he loves, especially since it's a countryside road trip, while you disagreed, encouraging other artists. Back and forth you banter, poking fun at the other's taste in music, even though it wasn't a serious issue.

Finally, you realize how absurd the argument is and burst out laughing simultaneously.

"This is ridiculous," you manage to say between giggles. "We're debating over who plays the songs."

"Exactly," Daniel agrees, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye that slipped out while laughing. "We're wasting time when we could've been enjoying some good music."

"Alright, how about we compromise?" you suggest, still chuckling. "We alternate between our songs."

"Deal," he agrees, extending a hand for a shake while steering with the other.

You clasp his hand, nodding formally as you seal the agreement. Daniel takes the first pick, choosing a song he enjoys. As the familiar beats fill the car, you cover your ears playfully, but the smile on your face tells him it's all in jest. You both sing along, creating your own little concert on wheels.

When the song ends, you take your turn, choosing a track that's currently your favourite. Daniel groans, having heard the song too many times to count, but he can't resist singing along with you. The rest of the drive is filled with a perfect mix of your favorite songs. Even though you both complain every time the other picks a song, you still sing along to each one, enjoying every moment.

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[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

!"are we still friends?" kiss w/ inumaki!

prompt// heartbeat getting faster with every passing second, their hands on your waist, one coming up to your jaw, whispering your name softly, before just going for it. coming absolutely undone as your hand reaches to tug on their hair (prompt from @jasminesfury)

pairing// toge inumaki x gn!reader

word count// 1.8k

contents// jujutsu high is a college, inumaki communicates through sticky notes, inumaki uses his cursed technique to get what he wants, ooc inumaki ?

notes// these kissing prompts r too good not to use sorry not sorry! also yes him using his cursed technique was inspired by that one anon... also any information i say about a character's likes? or like favorite food, i get from jjk fandom wiki dont come for me if its not right ok baiiii <3

You and Inumaki are best friends— or were. Right now, he’s not quite sure where the two of you stand considering how you’ve been acting towards him lately. He and, quite frankly, anyone with eyes could see how uninterested you were acting toward him. You avoided his touch, kept conversations short, avoided eye contact, hell, you tried to avoid him all together—you were ignoring him. It wasn’t like you were doing it on purpose, though! …Okay, you definitely were, but you also definitely had a good reason to. The whole reason this started was because of last week.

You and Inumaki are best friends; you’d obviously take any chance you could to hang out with him, and you thought that was the only reason why—because he’s your best friend—but that day you quickly learned that was not the case. You and Inumaki sat under a tree in a random park. When the weather was nice and your schedules aligned, the two of you would often have picnics together. On these picnics, you two had this unspoken agreement of bringing each other food; he’d bring you what you liked or what he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same for him. You watch him intently as he places all the food he got for you near you, and you smile when he’s finished and is staring at you patiently, waiting for you to do the same.

You ignore his gaze and what he wants, instead tilting your head at him and asking, “What’s your favorite food?”

Inumaki’s face drops, and a pout replaces his previous faint smile as he pulls out a sticky note pad and scribbles, “Are you joking?”

You commit to the bit. “No, I’m serious! What’s your favorite food?”

You watch him fervently rip that note off to write on another one, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”

The way he’s staring at you makes you relent. “Just humor me for a second Inumaki?” you plead with a soft smile, reassuring him that it’ll be worth it.

He stares at you curiously before nodding and writing, “Tuna mayo onigiri.”

You hum with a nod. “Right, thought so,” you say. “Guess what I have!”

Inumaki’s eyes light up as he excitedly taps his finger against the words he just wrote. His reaction doesn’t take you by surprise; you’ve seen him react like this plenty of times before. It’s what you love about him—how excited and happy he gets about things and isn’t afraid to show it—but something is different. The sun is shining on his face perfectly; it gleams off his eyes, and the way the wind slowly blows past and the trees and flowers behind him sway softly with his hair has you completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that Inumaki had to practically shove the notepad in your face for you to even realize you were staring.

You shake your head as if shaking yourself out of your trance, silently acknowledging to yourself that it was odd, but you digress. “Sorry! But yes, I do have that for you!”

He drops the notepad and holds out his hand expectingly, and you giggle as you place the onigiri in his hand. He bows his head slightly at you to say thank you before he digs in, and you smile warmly at him.

“I’ve been trying to get it for you the past few picnics, but they were always out,” you say, frowning. “But today I went early, and they actually had some!”

He acknowledges you with a glance, and your heart skips a beat just from the brief moment that your eyes meet. You try to ignore it, though. You try to ignore how you can’t keep your eyes off him, the butterflies in your stomach, and how warm you feel. Maybe you’re getting sick? Yeah, that must be it. You don’t know how long you got distracted by simply admiring him, but by the time you came back to reality, he was done with his food and writing something on his sticky notes.

He holds up the notepad, asking, “Are you okay?”

You scoff slightly. “Of course I’m okay.”

He frowns at you before scribbling, “You haven’t touched any of your food.”

You look down at the food before returning your gaze to him and awkwardly smiling. “Ah yeah, just not all that hungry, Inumaki...”

You watch him study your face quickly before writing, "Are you sick?” He doesn't give you time to reply before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, and if you weren't already flustered before, you most definitely are now. You're too shocked by his actions to say anything, but it doesn’t matter when he's already scribbling a new sentence. “You feel warm.”

“I'm sure it's nothing, Inumaki,” you try to reassure.

He hands you a sticky note that says, “We should get you back to your dorm and stop for medicine on the way,” before beginning to pack up the left-over food.

You roll your eyes and place your hand over his to stop him, and the way he looks up at you has your brain going blank, so much so that he has to shoot you a questionable look in order for you to realize what you were doing.

You quickly remove your hand from his and clear your throat. “It’s fine, I promise. I probably just have to sleep it off, okay?”

Inumaki doesn't bother writing anything down and instead just stares at you blankly.

“If I'm still ‘sick’ by tomorrow, we can go get medicine, okay?”

He nods, ultimately accepting that answer, but he wishes he didn't because tomorrow never came. You didn't die, obviously, but you might as well have. You started ignoring him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and... you get the point.

Inumaki has no idea what he did; he tried to ‘talk’ to you the best he could. He’d leave you sticky notes, and you would hardly acknowledge them or him. Did he do something wrong? He knows most people found him intimidating at first because of his cursed technique and were hesitant around him, but you never were, so why are you acting like it now? Maybe he came off too strongly; maybe you got suffocated being his only friend—well, not his only friend, but his closest friend; maybe you just had enough. Inumaki told himself he was just going to let whatever happens happen, but he couldn’t. So he said he'd find you after class and corner you if he really had to; you’re already ignoring him; what's the worst that could happen after that? But he couldn’t wait till after class tomorrow; he couldn't sleep; he just laid in bed anxiously, which is why he now finds himself standing at your door. He doesn’t think twice about knocking; he wants—no, he needs—to know why you're ignoring him.

You're surprised to see him there, and his twisted-up face makes your heart drop. You're not sure if he's worried, angry, or both.

“Inumaki, hey.” You’re afraid to look at him for too long, fearful that he’ll look back and figure out your feelings for him, so you leave the door open and start walking away. “Come in.”

He does so, shutting the door behind him. You’re a few feet away from him, so he tries to close the distance between you two, only for you to take the same number of steps back. Inumaki frowns and pulls out his sticky notes.

“Are we still friends?”

No, because you’d rather be more—if it isn't obvious by now, the entire reason you’ve been ignoring him is because you've finally realized how deeply in love with him you are.

You avoid his gaze and zero in on your floor instead, nervously laughing. “Of course, Inumaki, why wouldn't we be?”

You hear him scribble something down before the sticky pad shows up in your field of vision. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

You push his hand out of your vision. "No, I haven't.”

You hear more scribbling before one of his hands grabs your chin and lifts your head up to face him. Your eyes fluttered at the action, and you hope to god he didn't notice. He shakes the notepad in his other hand to draw your attention to it. “Yes, you have.”

You can't lie to him when it's like he's staring straight into your soul. “Okay, fine, maybe.”

Though you wish you did when his face drops and he slowly lets go of your jaw to write, “Why?”

You take a step back, and he takes one forward. “It doesn’t matter.”

He frowns and shakes his notepad slightly as if to emphasize his point, “Yes, it does.”

“It doesn't because I'm gonna stop ignoring you, okay?”

“But why were you ignoring me?” he scribbles frantically.

You sigh. “Just drop it, Inumaki, please?”

He shakes his head.

“Inumaki, just forget about it, and we can go back to normal, okay?”

He narrows his eyes at you and writes, “Just tell me! I won't get mad; I just want to know why.”

“Inumaki, seriously drop it,” you say as you turn to walk away, but you don't get far before you hear a clatter of Inumaki’s things hitting the floor, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. He has your wrist to his chest, and your other hand is instinctively pressing against him, while his other hand is on your waist. You grow flustered by how you two are body-to-body, with no space to be found between the two of you, and you look at him wide-eyed, both of your breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You're about to push yourself off of him or tell him to let go of you, but any thought of doing something vanishes the minute you see him start to open his mouth.

“Tell me,” he says softly yet firmly.

You can't even attempt to fight against his command as the words "I like you" pour out of your mouth against your will.

The minute the words leave your mouth, you go wide-eyed in shock from your confession, and from how he used his technique on you, he’s equally as wide-eyed. You try to yank your wrist free from his hold, but he has an iron grip on you no matter how hard you struggle.

You begin to murmur nervously, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "Inumaki-"

But your sentence is quickly cut short when he leans in. He hesitates for a moment before just going for it and kissing you. You don't kiss back at first in shock, but once you grasp what's going on, you quickly melt into the kiss, practically turning into liquid with the way your legs try to give out on you. You quickly tangle your free hand in his hair; he releases his grip on your wrist and places that hand on your waist as well, while you cradle his face with your newly freed hand. You two stand there kissing and holding each other for what seems like forever before he finally pulls away, both of you nearly panting.

“So, uh, does this mean we’re not friends or-“

© LITTLEXBIMBO

[baldval]

Can you do a Vox x reader where we comfort Vox after Valentino broke his screen?

please and thank you!

TO BE HUNTED!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox x gn!reader (stablished relationship)

warnings: implied violence from valentino (not mentioned explicitly)

wc: 608

a/n: tried to make this short and sweet, also i don't know how to fix screens??? i just talked about it as if it was average human skin.

"sit down." your tone is crisp, an order, not a request.

you walk not towards him but to the freezer as you speak, and when you turn around, there is a bag of frozen peas in your hand.

"i'm okay," he tells you, but he can't stop the hiss of pain that emerges when you press the bag of peas - gently, and wrapped in a paper towel - against the left side of his screen.

there's a slight sting too, enough to make him think that the glass might be broken.

"sure you are." your voice is dry and when he chances a glance up at you, you're actually rolling her eyes. "that's why you're going to have a black eye the size of Jupiter in the morning." you lift the bag a little, pursing your lips at what you see: a huge line going from his right eye towards the left part of his mouth. "i have some paper stitches upstairs in my med bag; you might need them."

when you press the bag back down, there's another sting. his screen was definitely broken. he's expecting the pain this time so he keeps the hiss back. his hand is warm against yours when you take him by the wrist.

it's not romantic , you're just checking his pulse, however, you can't help but feel certain butterflies in your stomach as you feel the contact of his skin against your fingers.

"where else?"

it's on the tip of his tongue to tell you that he's absolutely fine but the look that you give him has him rethinking that notion.

"ribs," he admits. "left side. i'm pretty sure they're only bruised…"

"let me be the judge of that." you kneel down beside him, fingers making short work of the buttons of his shirt, lips pursing again when you see the livid red marks shaped like someone's boot.

your hands run across the marks, probing and pressing and it's hard for vox not to squirm because not only are your hands cold but also because usually when your hands are moving across his skin like this, it's very much not in a medical capacity. which is something that his body doesn't seem to recognise, even if he is in pain.

as you straighten up, you look back into his eyes, a relieved look on your face. "nothing broken," you confirm. "but I wouldn't be doing anything strenuous if I was you."

he can't help himself. he reaches out his free hand, cupping your cheek. "aw… shame."

he's not actually being serious, but amusement flickers across your face. "you cannot possibly be turned on by this scenario." you tease.

vox drops the bag of peas on the kitchen table, pulling you onto his lap. you go easily, looping your arms around his neck.

"i think you seriously need to reconsider the effect that you have on me at all times," he tells you, bringing his lips towards you for a kiss.

it doesn't last as long as he would like, his own hiss of pain being the main cause of that, and your reaction is half resigned, half 'i told you so'

"so, doctor," he asks as you drop your forehead against his, "what's the prescription?"

"bed rest." your reply is prompt as your hands slide towards his, threading your fingers through his and pulling him up.

"lots of lots of bed rest…" there's a twinkle in your eyes that he's very familiar with and loves to see. "while i see what it takes to kiss you better."

vox thinks that the answer to that particular question is 'not much'.

[zoeykallus]

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 3/7 - Crosshair

Warnings: Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Love Confessions

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

This is a continuation of this request :

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Crosshair

You don't really know how to talk to him. As soon as his intense eyes look at you, your voice crawls and a horde of butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach.

In the beginning it was okay, but at some point, Crosshair just had to look at you to make your voice fail.

He doesn't know that he has this effect on you, he doesn't know that his voice sends little shivers down your spine, making everything inside you go crazy, pulse, heartbeat, temperature, hormones, thoughts… everything.

Wrecker likes to play practical jokes on the Sniper. Out of an impulse to have more contact with Crosshair, you join in these pranks at some point. You sometimes feel a little immature about it, but this simple contact with Crosshair is worth it.

He usually reacts grumpily, but he's never really that angry, and your pranks are usually quite harmless. The only time he was really a bit sour was when Wrecker and you stuck all the toothpicks Crosshair had in stock to his helmet. Of course, you insisted on water-soluble glue when Wrecker told you the idea, a prank shouldn't cause permanent damage in any way.

One evening, you're all sitting together, having a good time, eating well, telling jokes, unpacking card games. Music is playing on the radio in the background, and occasionally one or two people hum along to one of the songs. In general, everyone is in a good mood, including the sniper. The evening is going great, and you even talk to Crosshair a little, you joke with each other, and you're beaming the whole time, totally happy about his attention.

He gently nudges you with his elbow as you play cards and says with a smirk, “You're holding your cards too low, hold them a little higher, almost everyone can see what's in your hand”

“Oh”, you say in surprise and comply with his suggestion, “Thanks”

Today is the day, you think, today you finally tell him how you feel. It doesn't matter that you lose almost every game. The boys are too good, and you can hardly concentrate on the game. You pay much more attention to every sound and every movement of your crush, Crosshair, who is sitting quite close to you. Sometimes, when your eyes meet during the game, he smirks mischievously at you, and you feel yourself melting inside.

You are still waiting for a good opportunity. During a break in the game, when Crosshair wants to get drinks, you offer to help him and accompany him. On the way to get the drinks, your heart races as you gently but firmly grab his arm.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Crosshair stops and turns to you. He looks at you intently, and you feel yourself growing nervous under his serious gaze.

“Hmm, sure. What's this about?”

You take a deep breath, causing Crosshair to furrow his brows.

“Honestly, I don't even know how to start,” you say with a nervous laugh.

He remains silent, patiently, but he crosses his arms in front of his chest, which makes you even more nervous. His gaze is scrutinizing, almost critical. Your voice threatens to crawl out once again, and you try with all your might to stop it.

You say quite directly, “I have a crush on you”

For a very brief moment, Crosshair's posture wavers, his eyebrows shoot up, but in the same second, he pulls them back together, sternly.

“Was that your idea, or did Wrecker put you up to it?” he growls softly.

You look at him, perplexed. He thinks you're playing a trick on him again. At first, you don't know how to react, your thoughts are in a panic, and you can't organize them quickly enough. In the long pause that has arisen, he suddenly says, “Seriously? Did you think I would fall for this? You and me? As if that was even remotely realistic”

A helpless, “Uh,” escapes your lips.

Crosshair rolls his eyes, “Come up with something better”

He wants to turn away and keep walking, but you say much braver than you feel, loud and clear, “I wasn't kidding”

Crosshair sighs, stops and turns back to you, a few steps away from you.

“Really? You insist on going through with this gag? Come on, let it go, surely you can think of something better”

You clench your hands into fists in frustration. But your gaze lowers dejectedly as you ask, “Why would you and I be an unrealistic thing?”

Crosshair listens up.

He asks lurking, “Does it matter?”

You answer quietly, “It does to me”

You hear his footsteps, finally see his boots and hear him say, “Look up, at me”

As you comply with his request, his eyes bore into yours.

“You really weren't joking, were you?” he asks seriously.

You swallow, but finally nod.

“I wouldn't joke about that”

His gaze is still scrutinizing as he asks, “Really?”

“Never”

Crosshair suddenly smirks, leaning towards you. Your heart doesn't quite know whether to jump out of your chest or stop, as his face comes closer. You hold your breath, your eyes close. First you feel his hand on the back of your neck, his arm wrapping around your middle, then you feel his lips on yours, warm, softer than expected, lingering gently for a long moment. Fireworks explode in your chest, everything tingles, hums, dances. Your entire body seems to be celebrating a feast of sensations and perceptions. You smell him, his aftershave, feel the warmth of his body, so close...

Then suddenly everything is as if wrapped in absorbent cotton, dull, numb. When you open your eyes, it feels a little like you've just woken up from a dream. Surprised, you realize that you are no longer standing, but hanging in Crosshair's arms, who is kneeling on the floor. “How did that happen?” you ask, perplexed, looking up into his worried face. “You don't know?” You think for a moment before answering, “We talked, then you kissed me”

Crosshair nods and says, “And you just passed out during the kiss”

“I was unconscious?”

Crosshair sighs, his features relaxing a little as he replies, “hmm, looked like it”

“How long?”

“Just a few seconds, maybe half a minute”

You laugh softly, shyly and confess to him, “I was so nervous, I was holding my breath and my pulse was so fast…. I think that must have been it”

You realize that you are still lying in his arms, but you don't really want to get up. You could get used to being held by him like this.

Crosshair smirks, “I make you that nervous?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Well, yes.”

His smirk widens.

“I kind of like that, Kitten”

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