#never in my LIFE did I think I would see something like it

[ireverie]

sexcapade

pairing ↠ co-worker!sunghoon x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, professor!sunghoon x professor!reader, infidelity, unprotected sex, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, almost getting caught

summary ↠ with things in the bedroom getting stale with your husband, you start searching for excitement and your co-worker, sunghoon, is more than willing to provide it for you. on campus, you barely acknowledge each other, but in the sheets, you can't stop calling out his name.

wc ↠ 2.2k

a/n ↠ originally posted on my blog revehae, i am not plagiarizing myself. part 1/3 of the in my blood series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

it started in the spring. like there was pollen in the air, too there was lust, gentle breezes seemingly sweeping you flush against sunghoon’s chest where you could never not inhale the manly scent of him; never not leave with it clinging to you.

you were very aware that it was wrong. matter of fact, every time you laid eyes on your husband’s face and looked into his, saw how they twinkled at the sight of you and how they were bewitched by the charm of your soul, guilt ruptured your heart with an angry, unmistakable pang of ire.

so you did not think with the throbbing inside your chest, but the throbbing between your thighs.

a woman needed excitement in her life, a kind of which sunghoon was more than glad to offer. sex quickly got boring in the bedroom after so many years of unlively routines and you taught molecular biology to a class of undergraduates that couldn’t wait to get the fuck on with their lives. to say nothing of the long nights spent sifting through overdue assignments. you were allowed to have fun sometimes. after all, you were only in your early thirties. you still considered yourself young.

like many other women, specifically younger ones that found him attractive for an older man, you noticed that sunghoon did not wear a ring on his finger. upon further discussion, you learned that though he was no longer married, he had a twenty-something-year-old son who took your class. apparently, his son spoke delightfully of you, which was flattering, but you’d always been more interested in what sunghoon thought.

and you quickly found out.

“had enough?” sunghoon asked, poking his head through the doorway. 

not that you could see. there was a blindfold taut around your face, hindering your vision for the past forty-five minutes. to you, it felt like an eternity. the toy between your trembling thighs buzzed, inducing orgasm after orgasm, a number so great that it had tears slipping down your cheeks past the fabric of the blindfold.

speaking of orgasms, you couldn’t stop the cry that parted your lips as heat unfurled throughout your body for the umpteenth time, spreading from between your thighs to your head where there was nothing but empty thought and faintness.

“that was beautiful,” sunghoon remarked, only watching.

“please,” you croaked.

sunghoon played dumb with you. he had a penchant for it, drawing out your agony by pretending as if he were oblivious to your needs, when in reality he was the most attuned to them. “you want more?”

“no!” you exclaimed, desperate. you couldn’t even feel your legs if you tried, that was how long he had left you here with yourself - and this fucking toy. “please, no more. it’s too much, sunghoon.”

“but baby,” sunghoon started, donning his sweetest tone. “you wanted this. remember?”

that was true. you knew when this affair first started that sunghoon was available to open you up to new, exciting things, because your bedroom experiences with your husband could all be described the same way. though with sunghoon, there was room for variety.

it was just overwhelming sometimes. sunghoon could be so harsh under the guise of merely giving you what he wanted. you knew that it was what he wanted if anything, that you were just his lab rant to experiment on, but you never admit that you liked it that way. nor would you admit that you would’ve also liked to be a little more. 

but sunghoon knew that. he never mentioned a word of it, because it didn’t need to be said. it went without saying that you were his to do whatever he pleased with.

“sunghoon…,” you trailed, your voice shaky.

sunghoon, ignoring you, asked, “how many times did you cum?”

you gulped. racking your brain for an answer, you ultimately came up empty. by the third one, time lost all meaning and so did thought. “i… i lost count.”

“then, you know what that means, right?”

you gasped when the toy was moved. not at the action itself, but because you didn’t realize he’d gotten so close. his footsteps were so quiet.

“but…,” you started. 

“but nothing,” sunghoon said, snatching the blindfold off of your face. you blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the brightness. the cuffs around your wrists were next. “you know the rules, don’t you?”

you whispered, “yes, sunghoon.”

“hands and knees.”

you didn’t hesitate to crawl into the said position, regardless of the exhaustion weighing down your body, because you knew what to expect if you didn’t comply with whatever he wanted. there were times were sunghoon was generous enough to let you cum, times where you didn’t deserve it, much like now. you wanted to get around punishment, but it would never happen if you didn’t satiate him.

the bed creaked when he raised himself atop of it from behind you, the sound of him fumbling with his belt making you wetter. once upon a time, you didn’t even think that that was possible, but you never stopped dripping when with sunghoon. somehow, he made even simple things like the anticipation arousing.

sunghoon dropped his shirt, followed by a toss of his pants. he had no need for them anymore. for the forty-five minutes that you’d been ruining his sheets, weakened by the overstimulation, sunghoon had been in his study trying to shake the thoughts of you while he attempted to grade papers. he was already hard from his imagination and the memories of stuffing you full of his cum, but seeing you in front of him, waiting for him, your pussy soaked for him, it did unfathomable things to his cock.

you released a shaky breath when you felt him lubricating himself with your arousal, slipping between your glistening folds, and writhed from the sensitivity. “sunghoon, it’s too much,” you whimpered. 

sunghoon chuckled. “baby, i’m not even inside you yet.”

your face burned. you could feel yourself dripping and it was humiliating, because you only got like this for him and him only.

“so fucking wet,” sunghoon cursed, having fun teasing your folds. “just for me.”

you cried out when he suddenly slapped your cunt, mouth parted as you gasped out, “sunghoon...”

“fuck, you always get so wet for me. isn’t that right, baby?” sunghoon asked, enamored with you. it was magical how he could pretend as if you meant nothing to him at work and become so addicted to you when nobody was watching.

you bobbed your head. “yes, sunghoon. just for you.”

that must’ve did it for him, because the very next second, you felt sunghoon finally start to roll inside of your cunt, mumbling curses under his breath. you almost collapsed then, almost slumped and gave out just from the tip of his cock, but you resisted because you had something that you needed to prove.

sunghoon was slow, but his cock slipped right inside you with ease, it was almost pathetic. not to mention that he was bigger than anything you could’ve imagined taking, so much that you always found yourself gasping when you realized that he wasn’t completely buried inside of you yet. you couldn’t believe that he had so much to give.

“oh my god,” you moaned, eyes rolling back from how full you were. no man had ever satisfied you like this, and sunghoon was just getting started.

not only were you filled to the hilt with his hard cock, but also the ache for him to fuck you until your entire body went numb like he’d already done countless times. sunghoon gripped your hips, using them as an anchor. when you felt so good as you did, as tight as you were, it would be dangerous not to ground himself.

sunghoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling just tight enough to let you know the trip was there. you were basking in his warmth and being crushed underneath his weight while he balanced your hips in one hand and the grip on your hair in the other. he smacked your ass and hissed, “so fucking pretty.”

sometimes you wished that he was yours. you could imagine coming home with him day after day, singing to music in the car together while his company made minutes feel like hours. you didn’t mind that he had a son, either. you always wanted a child, though not one that would be the product of shitty sex and a broken marriage.

the liking you’d taken to sunghoon went beyond sex, though the endless orgasms and fulfillment he never neglected you of definitely encouraged those feelings. moments like now, when he was balls deep inside you, you were more than willing to risk it all for him. you would get a divorce. you would move in. anything he wanted, just as quick as he said the word.

i am out of my mind, came your thoughts, though your grip on them slackened the more sunghoon fucked you into oblivion. 

“it’s so… deep,” you gasped, marveling. 

sunghoon chuckled. though you had never said it outright, your constant fascination with how big his cock was or how deep he could fit inside you, stretching out your velvety tight walls, was more than enough of an indication that your husband was not exactly packing like he was. you made it a point to mention that sunghoon was huge.

“yeah?” sunghoon asked huskily, wanting to suck a bruise onto the side of your throat, but he willed himself not to.

“mm-hm,” you mumbled. “can feel you in… in my stomach.”

“where?” sunghoon kept one hand at your hip but dropped the one at your head, wrapping it around you, and reaching for your stomach. “here?”

you bobbed your head. he could feel it too, and it elicited a deep growl out of him, one that had you clamping involuntarily around his size.

sunghoon could fuck you for hours if you let him. the same way that he was the best you’d ever had, he simply couldn’t get enough of you. there were times throughout the day where his mind would only flicker with debilitating thoughts of you, memories of your face and how you tasted. at times, you made it difficult to move on.

“dad,” came a voice from down the hall, one both of you were very acquainted with. 

“shit,” sunghoon hissed, irritated, and clamped his hand around your mouth. your cries and whimpers were muffled into his hard palm and your breath was cut off, because it was so difficult to breathe solely through your nose. “be a good girl and keep quiet.”

“dad,” sounded jake’s voice again, just outside the door. 

your heart was racing. your eyes were wide, the fear and excitement of getting caught fighting for totality in your icy veins. his son was one of your students and students talked. if it got out that you were having an affair with sunghoon, this could destroy you, but there was something so arousing about the thrill.

“i’m in here. don’t open that door,” sunghoon said, breathless voice betraying what was happening behind that door. 

his son was far from stupid, that you knew all too well, and retorted, “dad, are you getting laid? is it the hot nurse you were flirting with at the hospital? tell her i said ‘hi.’”

you frowned.

before sunghoon could even get a word out, his son added, “i’m leaving. you two have the house to yourselves again.”

“bye,” sunghoon huffed, dropping his palm from your face. 

you inhaled sharply. you could finally breathe again.

sunghoon kissed the back of your neck, nibbling at your ear. “you did so good,” he whispered, voice gentle and sweet as ever. “if you beg good enough, i’ll change my mind and let you cum.”

you hopped at the opportunity like a ravenous pack of wolves starved through the winter, begging with the utmost desperation, “sunghoon, please. please let me cum. i’ll do anything, oh my fucking god, i need it. i need you.”

“you need me?”

so fucking bad. more than anything. “i need you,” you repeated, whinier. needier.

“cum around my dick,” sunghoon commanded, voice deep and throaty and just the way you liked it. you would steal a soul for him if that was what he wanted.

it wasn’t very long before one final cry of his name escaped you, pouring out of your lips like honey as you stuttered around his cock, heat spasming between your legs. tears trickled from your eyes, the stimulation from all of the orgasms you’d had in one night alone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from convulsing. your muscles slackened and your limbs went limp to your sides.

sunghoon was directly behind you, spurred on by the sight and feeling of you coming undone around him, and you knew when his hold on your hips tightened and that lethal growl parted his mouth that he had met his climax, the feeling of his hot cum seeping into your cunt being the unnecessary confirmation.

“good fucking girl,” sunghoon praised, still sweetly in your ear.

you sighed contentedly when he flipped you onto your back, sweeping you into his arms and kissing your lips as a treat. he wiped the tears out of your eyes, watching you still shudder.

“stay the night,” sunghoon said, looking into your hazy eyes. 

you blinked, breathing heavily to catch your breath. “sunghoon, you know i can’t do that. my husband will...”

“i wasn’t asking.”

“well,” you replied, quietening. “i guess i can come up with something.”

sunghoon smiled triumphantly, smashing his lips against yours again. you sighed again, still content, though there was a thought lurking on your mind. i don’t know what i’m going to do.

[mononijikayu]

is it new years yet? — nanami kento.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now." "Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different." “My darling, behave.” “No <3” ".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, secret coworker romance, co-workers to lovers, romance, fluff, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, creampie, p to v sex, stairwell sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my darling, babe, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, actor! nanami kento, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 6k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the first fic of 2025!!! this was specifically written because of a conversation between me and @midnight-138 on the afternoon of december 31st 2024. i started progress while on a bus on the way to my grandma's house and for a bit on the 1st. i still wanted to write more for it, but i had to stop because i caught a cold. i still have a cold. and i need a massage cause i feel my body hurt real bad, cause its working hard to save my life from this cold TT TT

but that being said, i shouldn't complain too much. good things have been happening to me despite my problems. i hope that good things continue to come!!! anyway, enough yapping, i hope you enjoy this little fic. happy 2025!!! may good things, good health and happiness come your way always this year!!!

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if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS ALWAYS LIKE THIS WHEN YOU AND KENTO GET TOGETHER. But it was to be expected, since you graced the screens since you were a child. Nanami Kento was like that too. Of course, it wasn’t something of a brag at all. It was just your normal.

You were lucky, you were favored like that. Kento was favored just like that. Both of you were so beloved. And especially so, in a way that they end up hoping that you both were together. 

Ever since you worked with him on Jujutsu Kaisen all those years ago, it was just too strong — the chemistry between the two of you. It pulls people in for more. They wanted a story, they wanted something that could ease their days from the mundane boredom that it was to the fun, exhilarating excitement that comes with the tea in both of your private lives.

You didn’t mind, your company didn’t mind either. Neither did Kento or his side of the aisle. It helped that you were both good friends. You had met even before landing your roles on Jujutsu Kaisen, after all. So, the ‘will they, won’t they’ between the two of you really did help your careers.

But of course, just like in Gege–sensei’s scripts, some parts are sentences with too many blank pages. And the wholeness of your relationship with Nanami Kento truly only belonged to you and him. And you were not willing to expose it to the world. Not just yet.

Yet — this does not stop them from trying to do something about that.

The studio buzzed with activity as you adjusted the earpiece in your ear, stealing a quick glance at the veteran actor, singer, producer, writer and entertainment personality that is Nanami Kento.

He stood near the stage, his posture relaxed yet impossibly refined. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his tie a subtle but elegant shade of deep blue,everything about him just exuded a quiet confidence that made it hard for anyone to look away. 

You, however, knew better than to let your gaze linger too long. You knew too well that those are reserved for just him and you to interpret and to see. No one else should. You were as possessive about your private moments as he was. But you would never say that outloud and neither will he.

“Can you believe these two again?” a stagehand whispered slowly, behind you. It was still, of course, loud enough for you to hear. “It’s like they were made for this. If they don’t end up together after tonight, I’ll lose faith in love. Really!”

You bit back a laugh, focusing on your notes. No one knew the truth, after all. That you and Kento were already together had been for a while now. Not even your publicists or managers — hell, not even your entertainment companies, knew that this was for genuine actuality, a real thing now. But you and him liked it that way.

You had let your fans go wild with their theories over the years of course. Every post, every comment, every little interaction, every collaboration, every press tour — almost everything seemed to spark a new wave of speculation and fan shipping. 

For years now, the internet was rife with hashtags like #OurSecretLovers and #MrAndMrsNanami with fans pouring over every detail like it's an investigatory report they were doing, a documentary study. You had to admit, it was amusing at times, watching people try to connect dots they couldn’t see. 

Nanami Kento had a reputation for being rather serious, because he gets roles in that league often. But he was a silly little man, well your silly little man. And he often had the knack for finding the most random, yet oddly endearing, posts about the two of you on Twitter. During your five-minute breaks between shoots, when you were in separate rooms or on different sets, his messages would pop up on your phone, accompanied by a link and a deadpan caption.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now."

"Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different."

“My darling, behave.”

“No <3”

".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

You’d giggle to yourself, your shoulders shaking as you tried not to draw attention. It didn’t matter how serious the production you were working on either. He had a way of making you laugh even from miles away. And that relaxes you a lot.

When it was your turn, you’d send him TikToks. Fancam edits of the two of you together had exploded in popularity as of late, especially since you both played a married couple who were spies deceiving each other recently. People thought he looked so good, especially when he had his shirt off. You loved teasing him about it. After all, he was really pretty hot in those scenes. And if you were being honest, they did in fact rile you up.

"Look at us, babe." you texted once, attaching a video with dramatic lighting, a love song playing over clips of you two stolen from interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. "We’re icons."

His reply came almost immediately: "Icons, sure. But I’m just a guy who got lucky enough to be yours, you know?"

Those words made your heart swell every time. He’d always been effortlessly humble, never letting fame or admiration inflate his ego, even as his star rose. After all, you were the senpai here—the darling of the Japanese screen since childhood. 

You’d grown up in the industry, your name synonymous with household stardom. He, on the other hand, had been a late bloomer, starting as a teenager and building his career with quiet determination.

He never let the difference in your status get in the way, though. If anything, it only made him more in awe of you. He’d often remind you how much he admired your grace, how you’d navigated the pressures of fame with a poise that still left him speechless.

“You’ve been dazzling audiences since you were a kid.” he’d say, his voice warm with pride. “I’m just lucky to share the screen with you now and your life.”

And you’d roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Kento. You’re a fan favorite for a reason.”

“Maybe.” he replied with a soft smirk. “But you’re my favorite. And that’s what matters.”

No matter how busy your schedules got, those small exchanges, be it a funny link or a sentimental text, every bit of this kept you connected. It reminded you both that beneath the glitz and glamour, what truly mattered was the quiet, enduring love you shared.

You were out of your bubble soon enough when Kento suddenly caught your eye from across the room, offering a small, reassuring smile and then a small gentle nod. You felt your cheeks turn red but lowered your head immediately before anyone was to notice. He was too good at making you feel like this. And certainly so, he was hiding his smirk under his cue cards.

“Alright, places, everyone!” the director called.

You finally stood up from your chair, taking a deep breath and calmed down. You gave yourself one more look in the mirror, trying to make sure that your cheeks were natural now. When you felt like it was, you smiled at your manager who handed you the mic and swiftly thanked them. You went to your position. Kento soon approached, his footsteps purposeful but unhurried. 

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” you replied, flashing him a smile.

You were grateful for the reassurance. Even if you were already such a big name, you still did get nervous. And even more so, with such a big show like this — the New Year Countdown, of course you could feel yourself slipping.

The two of you took your positions on stage as the lights dimmed and the opening music swelled. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he fixed himself up, your pinkies touching. Even briefly, you could feel the warmth. He did that on purpose. You could see it in his caramel eyes. 

You let a brief smile echo on your lips. You gathered yourself as the lift came up slowly. When you both were in the sight of the gathered audiences and the cameras started to broadcast it all live, you both slipped effortlessly into your roles. After all, you both were professionals.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to this year’s New Year’s Eve Countdown!” you began, your voice bright and enthusiastic.

“Thank you for joining us as we bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.” Kento added, his tone smooth and polished.

Your banter flowed naturally, as always. That well beloved chemistry between you is still ever so undeniable. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him; he was your partner in every sense of the word. And that made your job tonight a little bit easier.

But of course, the real challenge was hiding the little moments that threatened to give you away that bit you kept so dear to you. You just can't help it when it comes to him. He has such a powerful pull on you and he knows it.

There were those little lingering glances, watching and feeling the way his fingers brushed yours when you handed him a card, the subtle softness in his smile when he looked at you. After all, this is the longest you could be together in your very busy schedules this year.

Still, you kept yourself in that cage. And so did he, despite his lack of patience when it comes to you and everything about you. As the night progressed, the energy in the studio grew electric.

Various music performances lit up the stage, and interviews with special guests kept the crowd engaged. Throughout it all, you and Kento remained the perfect duo—professional, poised, and completely in sync.

After nearly a few hours of composure, it came almost all too suddenly. In just a few moments, the final countdown approached, and the excitement was palpable. The two of you stood at the center of the stage, along with the other participants for this year’s event. In front of you, the crowd behind you cheering wildly, waiting excitedly for the new year.

“Here we go!” you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

Kento leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re doing great, darling..”

Your heart fluttered, but you kept your composure. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, babe.”

The countdown soon began.

You took a breath, looking at the screen.

You held your cue cards tightly to you.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

The lights soon dimmed, and the giant screen behind you displayed the numbers as they ticked down. The crowd’s voices grew louder with each second. The emotions coming through you were indescribable. Another year had gone by. But he was still by your side, like this. And all you could pray for as the time passed into a new age — that you would always be together.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Confetti soon rained down, and the studio erupted in cheers. You turned toward Kento, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you disappeared. The look in his caramel eyes was unmistakable—warm, tender, and filled with a quiet pride that made your chest tighten.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and you both turned back to the crowd, waving and smiling as the cameras captured every angle. People of course started to pay less attention to you both and the stage and more onto the fireworks now blurring the sky with its bright hues. You and Kento made a steady exit off the stage. 

“Another successful project, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence as you leaned against the wall.

Kento smirked faintly, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to loosen his tie. “They’ll be talking about this for weeks, you know?”

“And shipping us even harder, hm.” you added with a laugh.

“They’ll never know, though.” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You stepped closer, your hand finding his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the simple gesture grounding you in a way nothing else could. “They don’t need to, babe.” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “This is ours.”

Kento’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Happy New Year, my darling.”

“Happy New Year.” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You had thought it would end there, sweet and innocent. You had thought you both were safe for one more year. But when you two are together after a long time…..it was a whole new animal. And nothing can stop such a wave in high tide from occupying something whole. 

The next tithing you know is that the internet exploded the moment the photos dropped. Headlines blared across every platform, hashtags like #FINALLYOMG and #NewYearNewScandal trending within minutes after they were taken.

The pictures were pretty damning. They were blurry but unmistakably you, disheveled and wrapped in Nanami’s coat, your hair a mess. And him? A rare sight indeed.

It was none other than Nanami Kento, usually the epitome of composure, looking uncharacteristically undone. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the telltale bruises blooming on his neck left little to the imagination.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the coffee table as you buried your face in your hands. Beside you, Kento sat unbothered, calmly sipping his tea like the world wasn’t on fire—or at least your career’s PR team.

“I told you we should’ve been more careful, babe.” you muttered, your voice muffled by your palms.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quivering into a teasing smile. “You were the one who couldn’t wait with it, y'know?” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down with an elegant clink.

His tone was infuriatingly calm, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Who was it again, begging me to fill you up? By round two, you were going—‘Kento, I need you. Right here. Right now.’ and I was happy to heed the request like always.”

Your scarlet blush was immediate, your head snapping up to glare at him. “Kento!” you hissed, glancing around the living room as if someone could overhear, even though it was just the two of you. “Not helping!”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with the air of a man thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’m just stating the facts about, I'm the same.” he said with a shrug, his smirk widening as you shot him another flustered look. "That's not a bad thing."

Your phone buzzed again on the table, your manager’s name flashing on the screen. You sighed, picking it up only to immediately huff and toss it back down. “This is really…” you trailed off, searching for the right word but settling on a frustrated groan instead.

“Chaotic? Consequential? Hilarious?” Kento offered, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You shot him a glare that was far more affectionate than threatening. “Horrible. That’s the word. This is horrible.”

He chuckled, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on your knee. “Darling, it’s not the end of the world. Scandal or not, we’ll deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say.” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Your team probably thinks this is great publicity for your brooding, mysterious heartthrob image. Meanwhile, I’m the one getting texts about how unprofessional it looks for ‘Japan’s sweetheart’ to be caught sneaking around with hickeys and wearing her boyfriend’s coat.”

“Unprofessional?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “It’s not like we committed a crime. We’re adults in a committed relationship. And in any case my darling....….” he added, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You look adorable in my coat.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me. Very much." he quipped, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from your lips.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest, instead letting your head fall onto his shoulder with a sigh. “Next time, though….really.....” you muttered. “We’re finding a stairwell without photographer cameras.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Noted.”

As you leaned against your lover, the memory hit you both like a freight train, vivid and unrelenting. It had started innocently enough—or as innocently as it could between the two of you. The countdown show had gone off without a hitch, and the studio was still buzzing with post-show chaos. 

You both talked for a bit, had a cute moment and then went back to your professional mode when everyone started to surround you both again. It was like a switch, and it was easy. No one suspected a thing.

You went ahead into the dressing room, you talked with everyone. You’d been polite and professional, thanking the crew and chatting with some of the guests. But the moment Nanami Kento had caught your eye as you left the green room, something in his caramel gaze had made your pulse quicken.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Between his packed schedule and yours, the countdown project had been the only excuse to be in the same room together. The public facade you maintained only added to the frustration. Every fleeting touch, every shared look—it all built up, an unbearable tension neither of you could ignore.

So, when he’d quietly grabbed your hand and guided you down a quiet, rarely-used stairwell in the building when no one was looking, you hadn’t protested. You were excited, happy even. This was the chance to feel him again this close to you. 

And you were glad for that opportunity. You could feel his touch be so genuine and warm despite the heavy chill in the air, and the firm grip of his fingers around yours sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Darling, I missed you, really.” he murmured as soon as you were alone.

His voice low and rough, filled with a longing that made your knees weak. His hands cupped your face with a reverence that always left you breathless, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was searing, his lips melding with yours as though it had been an eternity since your last stolen moment together.

The cold winter air bit at your exposed skin, but his touch set you alight. His coat had slipped from his shoulders in a quiet, unspoken gesture, draped over yours as his lips moved to your neck. The kisses were hot, open-mouthed, and deliberate, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin before his teeth grazed your pulse.

“Kento, babe….” you gasped, your voice trembling from a mix of the frigid air and the heat of his attention. Your fingers clutched the lapels of his suit, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensations.

“Shh, just enjoy it......” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. 

His hands slid down your sides, firm but gentle as they gripped your thighs. Without hesitation, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against the wall. The rough texture scraped against your coat, but you barely noticed, too focused on the way his body pressed into yours.

His strength always caught you off guard, even after all this time together. Your eager legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as he stepped between them, his body fitting against yours like a missing piece.

“Babe!” you breathed again, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

He kissed you like a man starved, his lips leaving your neck to reclaim your mouth. The intensity of it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to him. He was hungry, perhaps even more than you were. But you had expected that. He has a habit of yearning to touch you a lot.

“I hate not being able to touch you, with all the schedules we fucking had.” he muttered against your skin, the words tinged with frustration and longing. “Hated every fucking minute of it……”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you tugged him closer. “Then don’t stop, babe.” you whispered, the plea soft but desperate. “Cause….I need you badly too. I need you so bad in me—”

He growled softly, the sound rumbling against your throat as his touch shifted. One hand remained steady on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, while the other slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers were deliberate, pushing aside the delicate lace of your panties with practiced ease.

When his fingers slipped through your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall. He groaned softly, the sound low and satisfied as he gathered your arousal, his touch teasing and unhurried.

“You’re already so ready for me, aren’t you, my darling?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers moved with precision, finding the spot that made you arch into him.

The cold air around you was a stark contrast to the heat building between you, the quiet of the stairwell broken only by your uneven breaths and his whispered praises. It was reckless, indulgent, and utterly intoxicating—just like him.

“Kento, babe….oh!” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers continued their unrelenting rhythm. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure began to build within you.

“Shh, darling.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear before trailing back to your neck. His voice was low and soothing, laced with a quiet intensity that only made your pulse race faster. “You’ll have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape as he added a second finger. The stretch was delicious, his movements slow and deliberate, coaxing you higher with every stroke. His thumb brushed over your sensitive bud, and your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s my good little lover, hm? My only beloved darling.” he murmured, his praise sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. “So perfect for me.”

Your fingers slid up into his messy blond hair, tugging gently as your body arched against him. The rough texture of the wall behind you was a sharp contrast to the soft warmth of his touch, grounding you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Kento, please, b–babe….oh!” you breathed, the words barely audible as your head tilted back, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. “M–more…..more!”

He hummed in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient, aren’t you? Greedy too.” he teased, though his fingers quickened their pace, curling just right to hit the spot that made your breath hitch. “I missed seeing you like this, so needy for me.”

The heat pooling in your core intensified, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “I’m—” you began, but the words dissolved into a strangled gasp as he pressed his thumb harder against your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, pretty for me, so fucking pretty." He says, coaxing you like a pied piper. His voice was low and intoxicating. Everything about it just burns you as much as his touch did. "I’ve got you. Always.”

With one final stroke, the beautiful echo, that blossoming coil inside you just snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body tensed, your thighs tightening around his waist as you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the cry that escaped your lips.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing their movements as your body shook with aftershocks. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his lips pressing soothing kisses against your temple.

When you finally relaxed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were soft, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and satisfaction that made your chest tighten.

“Better?” he asked, his tone light but tinged with affection.

You nodded, still too dazed to form words. He chuckled, adjusting his hold on you as he gently set you back on your feet. Your legs wobbled like jello against him, and he immediately steadied you, his hands firm but gentle on your waist.

“Careful, darling.” he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, babe.” you managed, your voice breathless but steady. “More than fine.”

His lips quivered into a soft smile, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good.”

As the reality of your surroundings sank back in, you couldn’t help but glance around, the abandoned stairwell suddenly feeling far less private. “We should… probably get back, babe.” you said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It’s getting pretty late.”

He followed your gaze, his expression calm and unbothered. “Let them wonder where we went.” he said simply, shrugging off the concern as he adjusted his coat around your shoulders. "It's none of their business."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the mischievous glint in his eyes stopped you cold. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “After all… I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he was guiding you gently back against the wall. His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, igniting the fire he’d only begun to stoke. His hands trailed down your sides, their warmth chasing away the chill of the stairwell as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Kento, babe.” you murmured, a weak attempt to regain your composure, but he silenced you with a kiss that left no room for argument. 

“I missed you, a damn whole lot.” he said, his voice low and filled with longing as his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly once more. "Like I always do."

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your heart pounding as the desire you’d both tried to suppress flared back to life. He pressed against you, the hardness of his arousal undeniable even through the fabric of his pants. The teasing grind of his hips against yours drew a gasp from your lips, and he smirked, his composure slipping just enough to show his need.

"Really....." Kento effortlessly whispered to you, his voice vibrating onto you like a wave crashing onto you at sea. "We shouldn't schedule much this New Year, hm? So we can be together."

"Hm.....Kento." You echo back to him, intoxicated by his touch. "'ake time....for me, okay? I'll.....I'll do the same."

“That's the plan already, you know?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he shifted, his hands tugging at the barriers between you. “Let me take care of you, like I always do.”

Soon after that, you could feel the wet, thick head of his member pressed against your entrance, the heat and pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as he began to push in slowly, his movements deliberate, almost reverent.

It was too good, too damn easy to fall into a high to. You could feel the stretch inside of you, it made you so full. Everything about it was intoxicating, your body yielding to him as he filled you inch by inch, your walls clinging to every part of him like he was made to fit. 

It was like he was trying to make a home inside of it. Inside of you. And it just made you feel so good. A deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he buried himself deeper.

“Darling.” he muttered, his voice strained and low. “You feel so perfect.”

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as your body adjusted to the delicious fullness. The sensation was overwhelming, the slight ache quickly giving way to a heat that spread through your entire body.

“Kento.” you breathed, the sound a mix of plea and surrender.

His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pulled back slightly before thrusting forward again, the motion slow but unyielding. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and the friction only made you crave more.

“God, this is so…..you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with need. “You’re so tight. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go slow like this with you.”

“Don’t, babe.” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t hold back.”

His carmel eyes darkened almost instantly at your words, a flicker of something primal overtaking his usual control. With a growl, he began to move in earnest, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the stairwell, a symphony of shared desire that neither of you could hold back.

The rough texture of the wall behind you only heightened the sensation, grounding you as he took you apart piece by piece. You could feel your back burn against the concrete wall as you throw your head back against it. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his body claimed yours.

“Darling, my pretty baby darling.” he murmured against your lips, his voice ragged and desperate. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

“Yes, babe. Yours….O–oh…only! Only yours!” you managed to gasp, your head tilting back as he kissed along your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. 

The coil in your core once more tightens with every spark you feel as he pushes deeper over and over in a fast pace. Everything about the pleasure you feel keeps building to an almost unbearable peak. It just felt too good. He felt too good.

His pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as his control began to slip. One hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your sensitive nub and rubbing it in quick, precise circles.

You cried out, your body arching into him as the tension finally snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly around him as your release tore through you.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m close!” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he shuddered against you, his body going taut as he spilled himself inside you.

For a moment, the only sound was your shared, labored breathing, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your thighs and waist, grounding you both.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern despite the lingering haze of pleasure in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gently setting you back on your feet. His hands remained steady on your waist, holding you as your legs wobbled beneath you. You leaned into him, your breath uneven, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just transpired.

But that wasn’t the end of it, of course. 

The hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded, and neither had yours. The raw desire that simmered between you was far from sated, and you both knew it. Kento’s hands lingered, his thumbs brushing soft, teasing circles against your hips as he studied your flushed face. 

“I just think that I…..” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “I still want more.”

You barely had time to process his words before your lover’s lips were on yours again, roughly consuming you in a kiss that was as demanding as it was all encompassing. Your hands quickly found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. Your body instinctively responds to the magnetic pull of his, over and over.

“We shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, though your voice lacked conviction. “It’s going to make people suspicious.”

“Probably not.” he agreed, his smirk returning as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, trailing up your thighs. “But repercussions are damned when we’re hungry. I can’t stop. I know you won’t too..”

The wall pressed against your back once more as he claimed you all over again, the cool stairwell air doing nothing to cool the fire that raged between you. It was reckless, but neither of you cared. Not here, not now. Hunger demanded to be fed, and with Nanami Kento, you were always insatiable.

After a while, you were both removed from the plane of normalcy and you were both panting with joyous weariness. He presses a kiss against your jaw as you keep a steady bite on his neck. He grumbles against you as he gathers himself from seeing stars. You follow him soon after. You released his neck and started kissing his lips once more. 

When you both found yourself satisfied, you both started to make yourselves as presentable as possible. Well, at least what remains presentable and salvageable for both of you. Kento ripped too much of your outfit as much as you did. Still, you both did not care. 

“We should get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his tone tender as he placed his coat on your shoulders and adjusted it tenderly on you, to keep you warm. “I’ll call my car and then we’ll just hop in there. We’ll go to my hotel, okay?”

You nodded again, your cheeks flushing as the reality of your surroundings began to sink in. But as he laced his fingers with yours and led you back toward the main building, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of contentment.

Of course, things too did not go the way you both wanted once again. You didn’t know that there were many SNS photographers  and gossip journalists waiting to catch some other celebrity in that area where Kento’s car was going to be. And that’s just how you were caught, not thinking about the logistics of it all. 

But how could you? It was New Years. 

You just got mindlessly blown with really, really, really good sex.

And you were together once again with your lover.

How could you think about anything else after all that? 

Now, back in the present, the two of you sat in the quiet of your shared apartment. Nanami Kento’s calm demeanor was a stark contrast to your frazzled nerves. You sighed, looking up to your lover who presses a kiss on your forehead.

“You know this is going to be everywhere, babe.” you said, gesturing toward your phone.

He set his tea down and leaned back, regarding you with a look of quiet amusement. “Let them talk, darling. It was bound to happen eventually.”

You groaned. “Eventually I didn't need to include hickeys and a ruined coat. And oh god….. was I leaking your cum?” 

You took your phone once again to inspect, but your lover took your phone with his free hand and put it away. You looked at him, almost sulky as one would look as a child. He laughs. He presses another kiss on your hair. Kento couldn’t help but smirk. Both acts had made your heart skip a beat. 

“You look good in my coat though. I could hardly care if my cum was dripping out, darling.” he said simply. “I’m pretty sure I look just as ridiculous. You mauled my neck so happily after that first round.”

“You  do look like you’ve been ravaged.” you shot back, though your cheeks burned at the memory. “I mean, it made sense at the time….I was hungry.”

“Hm, I don’t blame you.”

You sighed. “We’ll contact our PR and everyone later, okay?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm.”  he said softly, his voice filled with the steady reassurance you’d always loved about him. “We’ll be fine, okay? I don’t care as long as I am with you.”

You sighed, leaning into his warm touch. “I guess the secret’s out, huh?”

He nodded, his gaze warm. “I don’t mind. As long as we're happy together, I say let them say whatever they want.”

You blinked at him. “You think so?”

“Hm.” He smiles at you. “Because no one will truly know who you are to me. That’s only mine. They’ll have a headline, but I’ll have the whole spreadsheet.”

You feel like your heart is melting with his tenderness. “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your lips, smiling wider at you.

And just like that, the storm outside felt a little less overwhelming.

[shomatoriashi]

01/03/25; 10:00pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they realize that you’re the true mc from behind the screen ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes: this is just my own take on the self aware au! i know other creators who’ve written their own self aware au’s (and have executed them amazingly well!), but i hope that you readers will give my story a chance, too ♡

you never understood the hype that surrounded the game known as love and deepspace-

however, the moment sylus was announced as the newest love interest for this game-

to say you were mildly interested would have been the greatest understatement of the century. when his trailer was revealed, you swore you felt your knees clash together while basking in his pure, masculine beauty.

and his voice- dear god did it sound like pure silk against your ears.

needless to say, you downloaded lads the moment sylus dropped as the latest love interest. when you made your mc, you did your best to model her after your own appearance to the best of your abilities-

however, it seemed impossible to do.

the mc was just too petite and perfect, something that you could never achieve in real life. yet despite it all, you tried your best to customize her to match your features before starting the game. as you struggled with the missions in the main story, you were essentially grinding until the moment you could unlock sylus's story branch-

and the moment when you accomplished it, you were truly on cloud 9, taking an ungodly amount of screenshots each time sylus was on your phone's screen. you kept interacting with him in game, raising his affinity with you to level 50 in a mere few weeks.

it was embarrassing how much you adored this gorgeous man made up entirely of pixels. you always spent quality time with him, bringing him with you when you worked or had to study for an upcoming exam. each time you would glance at your phone and see his devastatingly handsome features cleaning his gun, you would grin and press a kiss on your screen (directly over his cheek!)

were you shameless for feeling so deeply about a fictional man-

absolutely yes. but did you care?

no.

after kissing sylus for what had to be the thousandth time that day, you would go back to your responsibilities, unaware that sylus could hear you and feel the sensation of your kisses against his cheek.

at first, it was maddening for sylus to realize that everything he's been through was made up by some writers at a company. every tragedy was forced upon him for the sake of a good story-

and he hated it.

he hated how his every word was essentially a script made up by that same company and how he was forced to interact with an mc that was just the same as the rest-

yet the moment he realized he could see you settled behind that woman's avatar-

sylus was intrigued, to say the least.

despite how you looked drastically different from the mc, something about you drew him to you more than the mc ever could. for starters, you were a true, living person who had a personality.

and you just seemed so alive each time sylus saw you. the more time he had spent with you, the more his feelings of curiosity turned into something tangible and real-

making sylus yearn for the day you would recognize him noticing you. he stops cleaning his gun just then, simply keeping his crimson gaze on your form as you wrote in your notebook. the hours continue to pass, yet sylus allows the quality time feature to go on even past the 30 minute mark, not stopping until you were done.

as your eyes go back to your phone, you were ready to quit the session when sylus purposely stops you, "no kiss this time? you wound me, little dove."

he basks in your wide eyed expression and the way your mouth was wide open in a gape, chuckling as you waved your hand over the screen-

and sylus was following your every movement.

"you can see me?"

"i think we've made that abundantly clear just now, little dove." he shakes his head, feeling his world tilt slightly when you pick up your phone.

"y-you just spoke to me, and i- i'm your little dove?" a dreamy expression crosses your features as you kept your gaze on sylus. he gives you a rare, tiny smile while reaffirming his nickname for you with a nod, "of course you are. you have always been my little dove since the moment i laid eyes on you."

a cute sound escapes from your parted lips, and he felt himself being jostled around when you began to spin while holding your phone. with his eyebrows lifted in response, he calls out your name while telling you, "you don't seem to be as panicked as i imagined."

"are you kidding me? i-" you cough and give him a sheepish expression, "i actually love you so much, and despite the weirdness of this all, i'm strangely happy."

your words succeed in making sylus feel warm inside-

and he knew he had to find a way to be with you soon.

zayne has always been aware of your existence, since you were a longtime player of his game and have spent most of your time together with him.

strangely enough, he took pride in having the highest affinity with you-

yet when you obtained any of the other love interest's memories, or spent some time with them-

a wave of jealousy would course through zayne's veins. he knew that he was programmed to always feel happy with whatever man you chose-

but he couldn't bring himself to let you go. after all, zayne knew that he loved you the most out of all of them.

he was the one who held your health and wellbeing above all else (even ignoring his own desires to see you during his quality time sessions with you.)

while working on his laptop at the cafe, he was aware of how late it was and was hoping that you were already safe and sound in bed-

so imagine his surprise when he sees you logging into the game, greeting him with a tired smile on your face as you opened up the quality time menu with him.

"hey zaynie, i know it's late, but i need to get these assignments done just to stay ahead. i couldn't find the time to do them earlier, so that's why i'm here."

admittedly, zayne could feel a shiver of pleasure each time you spoke to him, allowing him to bask in the sound of your voice-

yet more so than that was how concerned he was that you wanted to do your assignments at such an ungodly hour. as you pressed on the quality time session, zayne would immediately cancel it. confusion was etched onto your features, making you try again-

only to have zayne cancel the session once more.

"what the hell is going on?"

unable to hide the fact that he could respond to you (and not wishing to ignore you any longer) zayne takes a chance and speaks to you.

"it's too late for you to be studying. you should be in bed, ready to sleep."

your eyebrows furrow in response to his words, uncertain if this was part of his script (it wasn't). unable to stop, zayne continues to lightly scold you, "humans need at least 8 hours of sleep, and i know that you've barely gotten 5 hours the past few days."

"oh my god, what?!" he watches as you pick up your phone, meeting his gaze as an incredulous expression was seen on your face. "zaynie, are you talking to me?"

zayne was conflicted now, pulling at the collar of his shirt before clearing his throat, wanting to be honest with you, "yes... i am talking to you, and if you cared for me and my feelings at all, you would go to bed and work on your assignments in the morning, once you're fully rested."

it takes you a moment to take this all in.

from zayne meeting your gaze and scolding you because he was concerned about your health-

it honestly felt like such a dream come true.

your features end up breaking out into a kind smile, and zayne could feel a blush creeping up against his cheek when you nuzzle your face closer to your phone, "okay zaynie, i'll go to sleep."

cradling the phone close to your chest, you let out a hum while slowly getting into bed. once you were settled in bed, you held up your phone to see zayne looking back at you. he smiles at you, "good girl, now close your eyes and sleep."

he watches as you purse your lips before asking him, "will you stay with me, zayne?"

smiling at your request, he gives you a nod, "of course. i'm not going anywhere." he watches you once more as you cuddle into your comforter, closing your eyes while setting your phone close to you.

and as your breathing evens out, (turning softer), zayne whispers your name, filled with longing and love for you alone.

you had to be experiencing the worst cold of your life as you were settled in bed with your phone in hand, playing love and deepspace as you did some missions with xavier, your true love interest for the game.

in the middle of your battle, you let out a particularly loud sneeze, wiping the snot away from your nose while blowing into a tissue when a tiny voice was heard saying "bless you."

after blowing your nose, you said 'thank you' in response-

only to do a double take.

who just said bless you?

you take a quick scan around your room, coughing here and there-

only to realize that there was no one in sight.

you hear the voice again, this time saying your name as you realized that it sounded familiar to you. looking back at your phone, you saw xavier had already taken out the enemy and was looking directly at you.

you swallow thickly, your voice shaky when you began to speak,

"xavier?"

"yes."

"you can hear me?"

"i was able to hear you since day 1, and you chose to stick with me." xavier was practically grinning now, appearing smug while folding his arms across his chest.

by now, you were feeling dizzy as you slowly sit up in bed, feeling almost feverish while looking into xavier's gorgeous, true blue eyes. xavier has been aware of your presence this whole time-

and that fact was enough to make a surge of warmth course through you.

"you... you have always been able to see me?" you ask xavier in a shy voice, earning an earnest nod from him, "yes, and..." he trails off while pressing a hand against your screen, "i'm sorry that i'm unable to take care of you when you're feeling so sick."

"n-no! don't worry about it... i'm just happy that you're here... with me."

a sweet smile paints xavier's expression, coupled along with a gentle chuckle. "i'm happy to be with you, too. and i'm happy that you chose me over them."

realizing what xavier meant, you gave him the best smile you could manage while wiping at your nose with a new tissue, "i will always choose you, xavi."

hearing your admission causes a surge of possessiveness to course through xavier's veins. and while you smiled back at him, the philos prince was thinking of ways to forever keep your smiles for himself.

feeling the need to clean your house and do some chores around it, you decide to spend some quality time with rafayel, the hot lemurian you fell in love with ever since you began playing love and deepspace. with his pretty, pouty face on your screen, you began cleaning, moving around your kitchen and living room while wiping down each surface you could see.

you spent a few hours cleaning, with rafayel seeming to sketch during his quality time session with you, which felt odd. usually, after 30 minutes, the game would notify you, asking if you'd like to continue the session as you confirmed it-

yet now, that didn't seem to happen.

you saw no notification-

and rafayel was still sketching on your screen.

with a shrug, you figured the game probably updated and added this new feature, where you didn't have to constantly renew the 30 minutes during your quality time with rafayel. feeling thirsty now, you pick up your phone and head into the kitchen, setting your phone on the counter as you went into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

"hey princess! where did you go?! i can't see you!"

you nearly dropped your water bottle in response, hearing rafayel's voice coming from your phone. "come on princess, don't leave me hanging, where are you?"

was this a new script?

closing your fridge, you step closer to your phone, seeing rafayel's pout. picking it up, allowing rafayel to finally see you, he was smiling now while winking at you. "there you are, princess! are you done doing all that work?"

words were unable to form as you were left gaping at him, making the artist chuckle while shaking his head, "you look like a goldfish, which is pretty cute! oh, before i forget!"

rafayel pulls back, revealing his sketchbook to you. your heart was felt clenching slightly before racing upon realizing every sketch was about you-

not your mc in game.

the realization of it all had you reeling, with your hands gripping at your counter when you addressed rafayel. "rafe, you can see me?"

"of course i can, always have been able to, princess." he has the audacity to make your heart flutter the moment he gives you another wink. "and let me just say, i've been loving what i've been seeing so far, princess."

by now, you felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, unable to hide your grin as you cling to your phone all while basking in rafayel's flirty and playful words-

yet little did you know, somewhere along the way, rafayel had genuinely fallen head over heels for you, keeping each painting and sculpture he had made of you hidden so that you would never know-

at least, not yet.

end notes: i'm so happy to write a story like this, where all the lads men truly are so META and wish to be with YOU-

and not the mc

this is currently unedited, but i shall make any changes the moment this story is posted!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[planetsnakes]

I get this y'all right. I've never used AI to write an essay and never will

why the hell am i only given three months to write four different essays tho? Like sure some of the problem is my poor time management because I literally just became an adult.

For my dissertation I had to submit 3000 words (all jam pa ked full of fucking research) I had a couple of months to write this essay so what they did was wait until we had two months to show us how to write the essay, on a retreat which I couldn't go to thanks to getting sick. I asked if i could see the example essays another time and this just never happened due to copyright bullshit.

Now I didn't just get sick. I got really sick. 3 days in A&E just to be kicked out because they didn't find the problem. Literally everyone in my life is worried about me im so brave. The uni assured me this would be taken into consideration as long as I could get a doctors note.

I could not get a doctors note. They wont even pick up the phone it's been a month since I submitted this request.

So I spent ages setting up meetings to discuss with people in the uni my problems so they could write me a note. They didn't.

Now it's too far into the year to defer. I will lose so much fucking money if I give up now so here I go!

I completed the essay in like two weeks and I think i got something wrong on the timescale but ive been sick since november on and off getting better and worse.

I cant even remember writing a single essay for my university im fairly certain I'll never use these skills again because the only people who write academic papers are academics and I don't want to be an academic.

I can hear you saying "this isn't the norm"! Everyone goes through this at least once.

I know a lot abt uni life, I know a degree can be taken away if they found out someone cheated to get it no matter how long it's been since they got the degree. I know I didn't work this hard to never know if I could make it on my own merit

Yet there are places where the university could have supported me better. Students are expected to do so much and im gonna be so real the you're only cheating yourself narrative is just annoying. I could do this much better if every time I wasn't rushed because they gave me the resources last minute or constantly told me to check back later.

I'm fortunate enough to always get an extension when I ask thanks to my DID diagnosis & I actually considered myself lucky when I caught covid (yeah I also caught fucking covid I was sick for so long I missed so many lectures that I can't catch up on at all) but like seriously?

I haven't even mentioned the poverty, living conditions, the fact most of us have to work through uni, ow the internet changed the way unis talk to students, covid messing students up or international students and how unfair the system is to them.

I feel this could be a chance at a brilliant conversation about how much stress students are put under because even when we have the skills we don't get the opportunity to use them

[hvnlygrl]

JJ + spanking does sum to me… idk how that is for ideas but that concept always gets me started 🤭

love taps.

pairing — jj maybank x fem!reader

word count — 2.1k

warnings — spanking, sexual themes, drinking and driving but not drunk driving (don’t drink and drive at all guys please!!!!!!)

synopsis — you keep giving jj love taps, he can’t help but retaliate when you look that good on homecoming night.

notes — ugh i love jj soooo much he’s literally my man bye idc 😭 he’s too fine

he’s been thinking about you in that short little teal dress all night. he genuinely can’t get the image of you coming down the hallway, the dress hardly going to the middle of your thighs, it’s tightness hugging you in every single one of the right places.

the dance is a bust, all of you can admit, but it’s a rite of passage to go to homecoming at kildare high and you won’t be the one to miss out.

you were genuinely shocked when jj asked you to the outing, in fact, your exact words were, “when the hell did you start following the khs trends?”

to which jj promptly replied with a raised brow and the beginning of a smirk, “when the hell did you stop?”

he was referring to the fact that you didn’t want to go to this year’s dance due to the fact that you didn’t have a date and everyone else had someone to go with already. even pope had cleo and john b had sarah and you didn’t even think about including jj because never in a million years would he ever even think about going.

but here you both were, face to face in the middle of the chateau, your eyes wide and full of ambition as he asked you nervously, “y/n, will you do me the honor of going to hoco with me?”

after the moment of shock passed, you got excited. “hell yea i will.”

“right on,” he huffed out, scratching at the back of his neck nervously.

jj had never been to a school dance before, he didn’t have anything close to being nice enough to wear and he didn’t even know where to start with sizes and colors and what not.

when he told john b that he was going to the dance with you, the dark haired boy advised him to wait until you picked a dress because, “it’s a lot easier to match a tie to a dress then it is to match a dress to a tie.”

jj hated the fact that he was going to have to wear a tie and a suit and dress shoes and a belt. he knew he would stand out like a sore thumb and he hated being the oddball, especially while some of the kooks would be there in $100+ suits and he would be lucky to scavenge the articles he needed from the nearest goodwill and thrifts.

but it was for you, he kept reminding himself. he saw the way it broke your heart to be left out while everyone else had a date, he knew how much you hated third wheeling and always feeling like the backup option for everyone, even for your best friends.

he knew the feelings all too well.

he knew what it was like to have everyone be your best friend and your first choice and to never be anyone’s number one.

but you were his number one, from the moment you joined the group, he just clicked with you. like something in him locked in with something in you and he was whole for the first time in his life.

for the first time jj had something to fight for. and he would be damned if he didn’t fight for you.

the first time he laid eyes on you that night it was as if he was seeing you again for the first time. he’d never admit it to anyone, but he’d been in love with you since you started hanging around the group. the way you looked and talked and laughed, and your give-no-fucks attitude about everything made him fall deeper and deeper every time he saw you after that.

then, before he knew it, you were his best friend and he was yours and suddenly he would burn the world down around him if it would keep that pretty little smile on your face.

“wow,” he breathed out when you shuffled awkwardly into the living room in that gorgeous teal dress, your legs toned and smooth, feet adorned in an adorable pair of silver sparkly heels.

your cheeks flushed at his genuine reaction, heart beating out of your chest. you were just as in love with him as he was with you. and neither of you had any idea.

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling self conscious. “nice tie,” you huffed as you headed out the front door toward the van. you’re following behind him, and for some reason get the sudden urge to give him a nice smack on the backside.

“what the fuck?” he huffs out jokingly over his shoulder, practically jumping a foot in the air from the shock, “did you just smack my ass?”

“it was a love tap calm down,” you giggle before rushing past him.

he catches up to you, returning the favor as his hand flies across your ass. he can’t help but notice the way it jiggles in the tight dress, trying to push out the dirty thoughts from his mind.

his tie was teal, as close as he could get to the shade of your dress, with extremely thin silvery horizontal stripes down the length of it.

by the time the crowning rolled around, you both were so bored you could fall asleep in the bleachers. but jj was attempting to keep you (and himself) entertained as much as possible until the doors opened back up and you were allowed to leave.

“i can’t wait to get out of here,” you semi-shouted over the music so he could hear you better.

“where do you wanna go?” he shouts back, brows raised as if he’s already got a plan in mind.

“i dunno,” you shrug, “any good parties we can crash? i’m tryna get fucked up.”

“oh yea?” he leans back, eyes wide with a bit of shock. “thought you were done getting black-out after last time?”

jj’s referring to prom last year, when you got so drunk at a kook party on figure 8 that he had to carry you down the stairs and out to the van, with john b preventing him from going back in with his gun and killing one of those kooks for being on the verge of taking advantage of you in such a vulnerable state.

“i’ll have you,” you wink at him, “pleaseeee?”

he sighs, rolling his eyes as he gives in, “fine. but i can’t promise i won’t shoot anybody this time,” he jokes (mostly).

“yay! thank you babe,” you grin at him with a mischievous look before laying another hand across his rear.

he narrows his gaze at you, “can you stop,” he feigns anger.

“never in a million years, not when your ass is that juicy,” you cackle.

your laughter is quickly cut off by a reciprocal hand to your own ass, “yea, says you.” you can’t help the way the spank sends a shock to your pussy, feeling the wetness pool in your panties. two can play at that game.

“oh yea?” you spin around, looking over your shoulder at him, “like what you see?” it’s said jokingly, of course, but for some reason jj can’t help but blush at the comment.

“let’s just go,” he rolls his eyes in response, attempting to play it cool.

jj brought you back to the chateau to change into something more party-like and comfortable for what he can already imagine is gonna be a long night.

you chose a skin-tight pair of black pleather shorts that hug your ass and leave little room for the imagination, and an adorable lacy red crop tank that’s nearly as tight as the shorts. you opted to quickly re-curl your hair and swapped the silvery heels for a pair of black pumps.

jj’s in a classic maybank fit; a t-shirt and pair of board shorts, his hair unkempt from running his hands through it in stress.

his plan at the beginning of the night was to admit his feelings for you by the end of the night, but going to this party might change everything. especially if you end up going home with someone else. but he didn’t want to tell you anything before the party in case he fucked it all up. he wanted one last good night with you.

when you enter the party, several eyes flit to you, roving up and down your body as you practically elude the meaning of confidence.

girls want to be you and guys want to be with you and jj’s left feeling inadequate as ever as he trails behind you, a shadow in your perfection.

you convinced him to let you pregame in the back of the van on the way to figure 8, smoking a blunt with him and downing 3 shots of fruit punch flavored taaka.

you feel the buzz, and you’re craving more. jj’s got his eyes locked onto you for more than one reason, and he’s not gonna let you out of his sight tonight. no matter what happens.

“c’mon!” you grab his hand, leading him into the kitchen as you start scoping out the drink scenery. “what should we start with?” you hold up a bottle of malibu in one hand and a bottle of fireball in the other.

he grins at your excitement, cheeks flushed at how good you look. all he wants to do is kiss you and hug you and maybe bend you over his knee if it comes down to it.

now, you’re unsure if it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins or if it’s the atmosphere in the house. but you want jj more than you’ve ever wanted him in this moment.

his gorgeous blue eyes and his slightly overgrown hair, his pearly white smile and his muscles peaking out the sleeves of his t-shirt.

you hand him the fireball, opting for the malibu for yourself and link your arm around his, turning the bottle back toward yourself. “cheers, babe!” you start chugging the coconut flavored alcohol, feeling it burn its way down your chest.

he coughs at the cinnamon burst, shaking his head as he breathes out deeply. “ugh that shit is so nasty dude.”

“i know,” you giggle, “that’s why i gave it to you and took the good shit,” you wiggle the white bottle in the air before setting it back down on the counter. he turns around to grab two cups of super-spiked punch, and you use that as your opportunity to revive the game from earlier. you let your hand fly up toward jj’s butt, giggling as he raised his head toward the ceiling.

“you fucker,” he growls out playfully as he chases you a few steps away, his arms wrapping around you as he smacks you back, one hand on each cheek.

“you know you love me,” you chortle, batting your lashes at him.

“you’re lucky as fuck that i do,” he matches your tone, raising a joking fist at you as an or else.

before you know it you’ve got your arm around jj, using him as your shoulder to lean on. the room isn’t spinning but you’re definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol and you’re having a grand old time next to the blonde.

for a moment, it’s as if you’re already together. you’re gazing at him, eyes glossy and full of love as you admire each and every one of his features. “you’re cute,” you grin at him.

his eyes go wide for a moment, before he takes into consideration the amount of alcohol in your system. “thanks, y/n.” for a second it hurts his heart, knowing that you most likely don’t mean it.

“i wish you could be my date all the time,” you sigh, “you’re the perfect guy.”

“what are you saying?”

“i love you jj,” you have your face buried in the crook of his neck, your stomach beginning to hurt from the alcohol.

“i love you too, y/n.” that wasn’t new, you told each other those words each time someone left the house or went to sleep at night. he needed to know what you meant.

“i love you,” you look up at him for a beat, gauging his reaction, “like i think about you all the time.”

he shushes you. not like this. it can’t be like this. “we can talk about it in the morning.”

you blink at him, unsure if it’s a rejection or if he’s keeping you from making a mistake in your drunkenness.

“i wanna go back to the house,” you half-whisper, your confidence depleted.

“you sure?” he furrows his brows, “you feelin okay?”

“yea, i’m okay,” you just don’t wanna make yourself look anymore foolish than you already do. “jus tired. wan go lay down.”

“alright, m’girl,” he supports your weight through the house until he reaches the van. jj helps boost you into the front seat before heading around to the driver’s side. he puts the bus in drive and begins heading back to the chateau. “let’s get you home then.”

-> back to masterlist

[waayoutofline]

4 times you surprised Abby + Bonus

Pairing: Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Prompts: Fluff with a sprinkle of hurt/comfort, past toxic relationships, Cook! Reader, vulnerable Abby.

Summary: Four times you surprise Abby in your relationship.

WC: 2,8K

Warnings: None.

Abby hasn’t had a long dating history, which isn’t surprising in a world as broken as theirs. Survival didn’t leave much room for things like love. She’s had her flings, moments of stolen intimacy, but they never lasted. People came and went, and she’d learned to accept it. Relationships, if they even could be called that, weren’t always kind or healthy—but they were what they were. What she was used to.

So when you and Abby finally started dating—after months of stolen glances, shy smiles, and a tension that buzzed between you like an incoming storm—she couldn’t help but be surprised. What was it about you that made her hope for something more?

1. Talking About Her to Your Friends

Abby didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. She was on her way to the gym when she remembered she’d left her bag in your room. She knew you were with your friends, so she decided to sneak in quietly.

But as she approached the door, she heard her name.

“So, how’s life with your lover girl?” one of your friends teased, and Abby froze.

Her pulse quickened, a mixture of curiosity and anxiety rooting her in place. She shouldn’t listen, but she couldn’t stop herself. She braced for your answer, her heart sinking as she prepared to hear the usual: She’s strong. She’s built. She’s hot. A bit stubborn. Overwhelming at times.

And sure, she was those things. Her body was a testament to her survival, her strength, and her discipline . She worked for it and was proud of it. But deep down, she longed to be seen as more than that. And her character was strong and she has been told about how troublesome it could be alongside her dry humor and sarcasm.

“Well…” Your voice was hesitant, shy. She could almost picture the way your cheeks would flush. “Gosh, she’s amazing. She’s so intelligent and kind—she talks about literature in a way that astonishes me every time.”

Abby’s breath caught in her throat.

“She’s gentle, in this really soft way. You should see her with dogs. It makes me want to get her one.”

Her chest tightened, warmth blooming in a place she hadn’t let anyone touch in years.

“Don’t forget attractive,” one of your friends chimed in, grinning.

You laughed, your voice flustered. “Well, of course. She’s gorgeous.”

“Look at you, all smitten,” someone teased, and your laugh grew quieter, softer, as if you didn’t mind being called out.

Abby’s heart was pounding now, but it wasn’t from nerves. She felt her legs move before she realized it, retreating back down the hall with her bag in hand, her cheeks hot, her lips curling into a smile she couldn’t fight.

Manny didn’t let her hear the end of it when he caught her grinning like a lovestruck fool all day.

2. Meeting the Family

Holiday time was around the corner. Usually, it didnt really mean much for everyone, but for the sake of trying to live in this forsaken world, some did their best to try and regain some normalcy.

Even Isaac, workaholic and not really an empathetic, allowed some of the recruits and workers to go out of their shifts earlier to spend some time with their remaining families.

It could be great. If you actually had one.

Abby usually just stayed at the gym, pushing herself. The burn of her muscles being preferable at the though of how alone she really was.

But she really wasnt anymore. No, you were with her now.

One night, out of nowhere, you asked her to have dinner with you and your mom. Abby blinked, caught off guard.

“What?” she asked, towel in hand as she dried her hair.

“My mom and I usually do something this time of year. I think she’s tired of me rambling about you and wants to officially meet you,” you said, your tone light and teasing, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal. No one had ever invited her to meet their family before. No one had ever seen her as someone worth bringing home. Too conscious of her own lack of family.

“No pressure,” you added quickly, though your eyes softened in that way that made her heart ache. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. But I think she’d really like you.”

“I… I’d like that too,” Abby said at last, her voice almost too quiet to hear. “What should I bring?”

You smiled, stepping closer and gently tugging the towel from her hands to help dry her hair. “Just you, beautiful.”

Abby let out a shaky laugh at your cheeky grin, rolling her eyes to hide the way her cheeks blushed. “Flatterer.”

Dinner was warm in a way Abby hadn’t experienced in years. Your mom fussed over her like she’d known Abby forever, asking about her favorite foods and piling extra servings onto her plate.

It was strange and wonderful—this sense of care. Abby couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel this… domestic. Cared for. Hers died at a young age after all, she didn’t remember any kind of motherly care.

And when your mom pulled out the box of polaroids, Abby couldn’t stop laughing. Even as you protested in the background, trying to snatch the photos away, she soaked in every story your mom told—every glimpse of you as a child, every memory that shaped the person she was falling for more deeply than she thought possible.

3) The little things

Abby has always been independent. She prided herself on it—her ability to handle things, resolve problems, and shoulder her burdens without leaning on anyone. It wasn’t always easy, and yes, sometimes it felt lonely. But that loneliness was a price she was willing to pay. Dependence, to her, was a weakness, and she had no room for that.

But then you came along. And somehow, without even trying, you chipped away at her walls.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t about grand gestures, no flashy declarations. It was the little things—the quiet moments and unnoticed details—that left her feeling undone.

Like the time you took her gym towels, washed them, and neatly packed them back into her bag. She’d blinked in surprise, holding them in her hands, wondering how you’d known she’d forgotten. You hadn’t even mentioned it, just smiled when she realized.

Or the way, after a grueling patrol, she’d find a sticky note on her makeshift fridge. Your familiar handwriting scrawled something simple—a heart, her name, a quiet reminder to eat. Beside it, there was always a container of her favorite dish. She’d sit there and eat it, alone but feeling more cared for than she ever had before.

Then there were her hair ties. She’d spent half a morning cursing under her breath, looking for the ones that always seemed to vanish. When you finally spoke up, you’d said, “I put them in the little box on your nightstand so you don’t keep loosing them.”

And at times, when she didn’t really have it in her to face the morning, you gently encouraged her to push forward. You’d quietly ask if you could braid her hair. Abby usually was adamant from letting anyone touch it, but there was something about the way your delicate hands moved through her hair that left her in a trance.

Your fingers worked carefully, threading through her scalp with a tenderness that eased the weight she carried. She found herself humming softly as you worked, the tension in her shoulders melting away with each gentle stroke.

It was so small, so simple, but she’d stared at you for a moment, the words catching in her throat.

It amazed her how you always seemed to notice the things she needed before she did. You didn’t make a show of it, didn’t ask for thanks or praise. Taking care of her came as naturally to you as breathing.

Afterward, life seems all that brighter. Easier to breath, knowing that she could count on you.

4) Getting her vulnerability

The anniversary of her dad’s death was closing in like a shadow. Abby felt it in the air, in her nightmares, in the way her body refused to let her rest.

Night after night, she woke up shaking, clutching at her chest, and every time, you were there—soft whispers, steady hands, holding her like she wasn’t coming apart at the seams.

But she hated herself for it. Hated waking you, hated seeing the concern in your eyes, hated the thought of you realizing just how much of a mess she really was. People had left for less.

And maybe you would, too.

Many people, both lovers and friends, had been uncomfortable with the ghosts of her past—her dad, her losses, the weight she carried. They either tiptoed around it or distanced themselves when it became too much. She didn’t exactly blame them.

But you faced it with her. You didn’t try to fix her or tell her to “move on.” You just stayed, listened, and made her feel like she wasn’t broken.

You stood by her, with no pressure, no expectation, no need to “make her better.”

“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” you told her one night, after she tried so hard to stop her body from shaking after one particularly harsh dream.

It was something no one had ever said to her before, and it stuck with her. It gave her the strength to turn around and look at you while tears started down her cheeks, the darkness not managing to conceal them entirely. But it was alright.

You were there.

“Was it about your dad?” you whispered, not pushing but encouraging. Silence filled the space the question left.

“No.” She finally answered, her voice unsteady in a way that she loathed. “We…we were on a patrol, and when I came back everything was destroyed. Burned to the ground. And you were….” Her words stuck, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly. “You were gone. You were…g-god, you were—“

Almost immediately, you hugged her, cradling her head to your chest. You were soft and warm, the steady beating of your heart thumping under her ear. It was almost scary, how comfortable it was.

“I’m right here,” you murmured softly, your hand gently running through her hair. “Hear my heart. Focus on my breaths. We’re together, Abby. We’re okay.”

The words settled over her like a balm, though the ache in her chest didn’t fully ease. The images from her nightmare still lingered—haunting, visceral, unshakable. But your presence, your warmth, gave her something solid to cling to. A light in the darkness.

“I hate it,” she finally whispered, voice raw. “I hate that I can’t protect everyone. That everyone seems to just…go eventually. And that I can’t do anything about it.”

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, your eyes soft as you wiped away her tears. Your touch was gentle, your expression firm but kind.

“Abby, you don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

She shook her head, her brow furrowing in frustration. “But what if I lose you? What if I can’t stop it?”

“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, your hands cupping her face. “And even if the worst happens, it’s not because you failed. It’s because the world is cruel sometimes. But no matter what, I need you to know that you’re not alone in this.”

Her lips quivered, another tear slipping down her cheek, but she didn’t look away. For once, she let herself be seen—completely, raw and exposed.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Abs.” You patiently reminded. “It’s okay to let someone else carry the weight sometimes.”

You continued, your voice steady. “You have me.”

Abby let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to truly let go. She melted into your embrace, burying her face in your neck as the last of her resistance crumbled.

You stayed like that, holding her through the quiet sobs, through the silence that followed. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Thank you,” she said. “For staying.”

You pressed a kiss to her temple, your hand still running soothingly through her hair. “Always,” you replied. “I’ll always stay, Abby.”

BONUS

+) Not minding her overprotective nature

Everyone knows Abby is a deeply loyal person. She wants her loved ones to be safe more than anything, and she is willing to do anything for them. That usually manifested as her being slightly overprotective at times.

With you, it happened more often than not. She would step in at the slightest sign of you having any issue. Usually, she did it through small gestures that were partly unconscious to her. Like knowing your schedule by heart and accompanying you to your room late at night with a secure hand on your lower back. Happily listening to your rambling while still keeping an eye out.

Watching over you in every room came naturally to her.

She was particularly tense when you, as the executive chef, asked for permission to assist in a supply run and gather some materials. Abby always insisted that you only go when she was available. She didn’t trust anyone else to take care of you like she did.

The most dramatic displays of her protectiveness came when you were confronted by recruits making greedy demands.

“Back off,” she practically growled, appearing behind you like a shadow. The person usually stammered, probably not conscious of who your girlfriend was until her imposing frame stood threateningly in front of them.

Afterward, she turned to you, all the aggression melting away as she gave you soft eyes. “You good?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I’m good.”

And you meant it—being with Abby made you feel safe in a way you never had before.

You weren’t exactly “on the frontlines” material. You arrived at the WLF when you were pretty young, and after going through everything, even the sight of a gun left you uneasy. So when Isaac saw your cooking abilities, he allowed you to stay at the base under the title of side-line cook. You eventually rose through the ranks, and that was that.

You preferred dealing with narcissistic soldiers over facing those vicious creatures. In a way, you grew accustomed to being pushed around, even though you knew how to defend yourself. But that all changed when you met Abby.

Standing at 5’9 and with a build that seemed crafted by the gods themselves, it was safe to say people left you alone after associating with her. So, even if you knew how to stand your ground, you enjoyed being protected by her.

You didn’t mind when she walked ahead of you during runs, her broad shoulders shielding you from any threat that could come your way. When she insisted on carrying the heavier bag or checking your gun a couple of times before leaving—just in case.

Not even when she glared at anyone who looked at you for more than five seconds in a way she deemed unacceptable.

You didn’t mind any of it because you knew it came from a strong sense of caring. That’s who she was. She cared deeply.

So, whenever she hovered near as you collected some herbs just a little outside the perimeter of the stadium (an area kept clear of infected), her eyes following your every move, you didn’t roll your eyes or brush her off. Instead, you smiled softly, glancing up at her as she leaned against a tree, arms crossed.

“You don’t have to watch me like a hawk, you know,” you teased lightly. “This is a pretty safe zone.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna keep an eye out.”

Setting the basket down, you stood and moved next to her, gently nudging her to sit. She understood your intentions—she always did—and with her back against the trunk of the tree, she made space for you to settle between her legs, resting against her.

“I know,” you said, leaning into her warmth. “And I appreciate it.”

Abby’s expression softened, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “You don’t think I’m… too much?”

“Not at all,” you said, glancing back at her and managing to place a soft kiss on the side of her jaw. “You make me feel safe. That’s never too much.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at you with that quiet, steady gaze that always made you feel like you were the center of her world.

And when she reached out to embrace you, resting her head in the crook of your neck, her touch so gentle, you knew you wouldn’t trade her protectiveness for anything.

[foundfamilynonsense]

Very true, and we can also look at the genre of fantasy under a microscope for a moment to understand why cozy fantasies often miss the mark.

In romance novels, we can have “big problem” stories, that revolve around things like war, drugs, suicide, and so on. Or we can have “small problem” stories like my bakery is being shut down, I don’t have a date to my cousin’s wedding. Etc. Both of these options can work well for a romance genre, it just depends on what you’re trying to write.

So, with cozy fantasy, it’s mostly “big problem”. And some romance writers sat down and decided to think up some “small problem” romance.

But…. The “big problems” of fantasy are not the same as the “big problems” in romance. So why did we think the “small problems” would be the same??

Fantasy, as a genre, involves taking internal problems and externalizing them. The crushing weight of capitalist greed becomes a dragon that we can fight off with a sword. Your own insecurities that keep you up and night are now preventing you from using the World Saving Magic. Conceptual problems are turned into physical problems that you can see and understand— then they are defeated.

So, while the big problems in romance usually revolve around things like depression, substance abuse, being sent off to a war, and other things that are more conceptual and mental, fantasy turns that suffering into physical suffering to make it more digestible to certain audiences. In romance you have anxiety. In fantasy you have anxiety because you’re being hunted by a werewolf.

So why do most cozy fantasies try to copy cozy romances?? Why is it about a coffee shop? Why is it about the small business?

Howl’s moving castle was mentioned, and it’s a good example. Because, yes, Howl’s Moving Castle is a bit of a softer fantasy. No swords, no blood, no dragon. Howl and the Witch of the Wastes do fight some epic battles but those are not the focus. The focus is about a young girl who feels like nothing in her life can possibly go right. She feels ugly and down on her luck and she is now finally in a situation where she can let out some emotion: and that emotion is usually anger. And why can she suddenly let out these emotions? Because the witch of the wastes turned her into an old lady.

It’s a “small problem” but it’s still externalized and exaggerated because of the fantasy genre. It’s not about a shop keeper who by the way can do some magic.

In fantasy, you can’t just write out the problem, you have to turn it into something tangible. Howl is a cruel heartbreaker who goes through women like clean ex? It’s because he literally doesn’t have a heart in his chest. And to make it “soft” I’ve noticed many fantasy writers forget to do this.

It’s hard to write soft fantasy because… y’know. Once you funnel all the negative parts of war and greed into one dude with a big sword you want to arm your characters and have them kick his ass. But you *can* if you really want to. However, it’s easier to turn small problems (you and your mother have never gotten along) into big problems (your mother is possessed by a demon) than keep them as externalized small problems (your mother… lost the key to her heart? Or something?) so instead you get a kind of boring realistic “everyday” fiction/romance with some fantasy vibes.

Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work

I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.

This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.

Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.

I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.

I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.

I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?

[bunnithechubs]

insecurities out in the open.

transcript below.

C: Now what are you doing down here so early, mi amor. K:I couldn’t go back to sleep after feeding Mae. C: And your shirt? K: It got too hot so I took it off. Do you mind massage my back for me? C: Anything for you, mi amore. Least I can do after my son is putting you through it this pregnancy. K: laughs Mae’s pregnancy was so smooth. Hopefully it calms down.

C: You look beautiful like this. K: Like what? Exhausted and sleep deprived? C: No. You look beautiful when you don’t hide. You’re always wear clothes that hide this beautiful body. K: I’m … still getting used to seeing it change. I didn’t pop until third trimester with Mae. I’m already showing and we’re not even at the second trimester. C: Mi amor, you’re growing our child. Give yourself some grace and credit. K: I’m working on it with my therapist. C: And I will be here to support you and call you beautiful every day until you believe it. Hottest mom on the block. K: laughs Thanks, my love.

C: How does your back feel? K: Much better. I think I have to strengthen my back and core before giving birth. C: I can help you with that. I’ve got a few ideas. K: smacks head playfully I’m being serious! C: laughs okay, okay. We can do it whenever my dad comes over to help with Mae. K: Thank you… speaking of your dad, are you dreading seeing Vinny and him today? C: Abso-fucking-lutely. Those two are an echo chamber of bad ideas. K: I wish I could be there but I have a deposition today. If I wrap up early I can come by. K: No worries, amor. I’ll have Mae there to soften their defenses.

K: Just remember that even if they don’t listen you tried at least. C: sighs I just wish they would actually listen to me instead of thinking I’m trying to tell them what to do. I just want this fucking cycle to stop before it’s passed down to the next generation. K: Even if it doesn’t, you stopped it for Mae. Your mother would be proud of you and I think we’re slowly getting through to your dad. C: He only listens if you say something… Me? He acts like he knows what he’s doing.

K: I love that your dad is scared of me. I’ve never even given him reason to be scared of me. C: I think he’s more scared of the power you hold. If he does anything even the slightest bit toxic you would encourage me to cut him off and he knows I would do anything for you. Which means he would also lose Mae and we both know how much he adores her. K: Well tell him he either gets Vinny in check or I will be mad. C: Oh he’ll start actually parenting then.

K: Whatever the outcome, be proud that you put in that hard work and broke the cycle of broken men raising broken kids. Mae and all our future kids will not suffer the way Vinny and you did. If Vinny decides to follow that path then at least our nieces or nephews will have us to protect them. C: It’s moments like this that I thank whatever is out there that they sent you to me. K: You give me a lot of credit. C: I owe you my life, I just wish I could show you how much I love you…

K: Then how about you let your body do the talking. C: We have about an hour before Mae is up, mi amor. We’ve done nastier in less time- I have faith in you. C: I love pregnant horniness. K: Shut up and take your pants off.

[luguangssandwich]

I'm rlly tired rn so idk if any of this will make sense but I've done some sleuthing and rewatched the episode, now with the highly likely chance that Cheng Xiaoshi has dived back too. Hear me out:

Xiaoshi definitely did dive, and I think it started from the moment we saw his face in black and white at 4:59 PM:

And I think he stays until the Vivian arc fades out after they ran away (that was at 3:45 AM according to the clock in the room) I think he left as soon as they were safe and before the 12 hour limit passed. After that, he is back to the same, more naive and youthful person (who doesn't know about Lu Guang's powers) we have seen before the above. Everything he does in between those 12 hours is completely in line with his late S1 and S2 behaviour, I found it extremely uncanny and interesting to watch with this in mind!

Other bits that I found particularly interesting was the conversation after he pulled Lu Guang back to the studio. Qiao Ling asks what they should have for dinner and Cheng Xiaoshi suggests hot pot. We know this is his signature food, but I found Qiao Ling's response odd, because in the original Chinese subtitles she asks him if he's sick, because nobody eats hot pot during such a hot day. It felt odd because she made it seem out of character for him?

There's also CXS bossing Lu Guang around - at this point in time they know each other for a very brief amount of time, but the way he asks all these things of him feels like a future timeline in which they've already gotten extremely used and comfortable as partners and living together.

With this in mind, calling him "Guangguang" doesn't feel like it came out of nowhere anymore.

A few other pieces of dialogue I found extremely sus:

Even Lu Guang is surprised by his out of character behaviour at this point (but also vice versa!).

Now, the way he behaves during the date - I wouldn't say it's completely out of character for a future CXS to act out of his own wits. I don't think this guy's been on a single date in his life lol of course he would freak the hell out in such a situation, during previous dives he at least had the safety of possessing someone else. His empathy never fails so he tries to be kind and guide Vivian home, something a future Cheng Xiaoshi would do as well.

But what REALLY tipped me off is that there is no way a non-possessed CXS would've known that LG would know where he is at this moment in time, because he wasn't told until after this scene that he took a photo. I don't think the Vivian arc happened before (and it's possible it was triggered directly by the changed node when CXS dragged LG back to the studio). Cheng Xiaoshi had no idea Lu Guang would ACTUALLY SHOW UP IN PERSON tho (my guy at this point are u actually even surprised?) and probably just thought he'd call the cops, seeing how surprised he was at Lu Guang's appearance.

I'm gonna post the screenshot of Cheng Xiaoshi with golden eyes again because it really baffles my mind.

I don't know if any of this makes sense and I'd love to hear your thoughts!!

[in-finitives]

originally wrote a bunch of other hcs down in tags because that's where i live but then i realized only 30 or so get put on post and then they delete so here's my addendums to save for myself

piper n reyna's relationship:

reyna's story is one of accepting expectation and living up to it.

piper's story is one of denying expectation and contradicting it, because she doesn't like what comes with it / people not liking her because she's something other than piper (i.e. people r friends w her because she's her father's daughter, her father's money, her mother's beauty, etc). piper is sick of other people controlling her life, deciding what she does and doesn't get, and feeling like she hasn't earned anything

piper is originally weird about the relationship for obvious coming into sexuality reasons + it feels like another expectation. another thing her mother gave to her, another thing built on other people's expectation

reyna is against the relationship because it goes against her duty. like she mentions sometime in SoN, praetors get in relationships with each other because it's good for rome or whatever. can you imagine if she was dating a greek?? that would feel like a complication to her duty

AND

piper's read enough myths to know about pretty women who betray their families for the hero. she is NOT going to be one of them, feeding into her whole traitor-dad arc

but as their arcs grow in anti-parallel, they both come to admire each other

piper admires how reyna is so independent, so strong, and so sure of herself. reyna admires how piper doesn't concede into what other people want.

reyna starts finding an identity outside of CJ and outside of her duty & symbolically, being in a relationship with piper signifies doing something for herself rather than doing something for rome

piper realizes that by automatically going against expectation is still allowing it to control her and she should instead listen to her own feelings

lowk should've been what rr did with jason/piper in the first place if he wanted it to stick but oh well

back in cj

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT HOW JASON LOOKS LIKE LUKE AND WHAT THAT DOES TO ANNABETH!!!

but first some other points

op and others had good points about annabeth that were tragically heartbreaking so i'm going to switch focus to jason

can you fuckin imagine jason at this time

percy refuses to help hera and is literally taking the gods by the throat, but jason probably doubles down and is trying to appease the gods

he thinks this is retribution. he thinks they've messed up

he thinks if he is a good hero, reyna can come back

and then 6 months later annabeth shows up

guys. Guys

jason looks exactly like luke. blonde general with a scar on his lip ?!

annabeth looks at him like she's seen a ghost

she's thinking of a traitor brother, a brother who was too good to be true, who was kind and friendly to all the outsiders, who was the leader of camp, who betrayed her

and she sees jason ... who is exactly all that

and in canon we always get her saying jason is 'too perfect' and unnerving to her

BECAUSE HE REMINDS HER OF LUKE!

and can you imagine if she hears his last name and goes oh. Oh

can you imagine jason finding out she knew his sister

the sister who (he thinks) abandoned him

the sister who has grown a new sister

a new family, with a boy who looks exactly like him

he's been replaced. he's been replaced, and this girl has never been abandoned by his sister like he was

and annabeth is standing there, now perfectly aware that she has replaced this kid in a family that wasn't supposed to be her's, but was, in a family that loved her and cared for her, and she sees the kid who has nothing, not even a best friend

CAN YOU FUCKING IMAGINE

annabeth probably originally distrusts him when she doesn't exactly remember the whole luke/thalia thing, jason is probably jumping to get on the quest because if he can please the gods he can get reyna back

also [later] jason finding out that percy and annabeth has done more for demigods by being rebellious little freaks than he has his whole life despite being the perfect hero

can you imagine what that does to him

'oh you got demigod children claimed and recognized by sitting on the gods throne and sassing them ... you were offered immortality, and i wasn't?'

even though he was the perfect hero

even though he did everything they ever asked

AND THEN

then he meets reyna again and the one person who shared his identity, the one person who shared his duty, has. ... escaped?

can he escape too?

but he's son of jupiter, he's never been more than that, how could he possibly escape?

then he finds out reyna has now met his sister ... and it feels like everyone he knows has met her except him

why wasn't it him? if he was son of jupiter, perfect hero, why wasn't he in chb? why leave him where he is useless, was he not good enough the first time?

we see reyna escape at the end. reyna realize she is more than a hero, realize reyna has learned she's not just the gods' chess piece. we also see her go through the same arc percy did in pjo if she's not at the final battle → sometimes being the hero is not about stepping up, but learning when to step down. she may not have been at the battle, but she empowered others to have won it (also works nice thematically w her powers)

reyna escapes. jason never does. he stays at cj, too scared to find out who he is. when leo (allegedly) dies, jason is thinking, it should've been me. he's the hero. so he stays at cj. he stays because what if what he finds is something he doesn't like, what if who he is, is not who he is supposed to be?

makes toa all the sadder

anyways yeah that's my 2 cents

Thinking about a concept where Juno swaps Annabeth and Reyna instead.

Annabeth and Reyna are fine, because they’ve always been able to handle just about anything the gods threw at them. Piper accidentally has her gay awakening via fake memories of a relationship with Reyna and is really confused why her girlfriend is acting so weird. Reyna and Leo bicker non-stop because even without her memories Reyna knows what she’s doing and she’s very used to getting people to listen to her but Leo will not be serious for even one second.

Percy would start fist fighting the gods in the first week. Jason has never been more stressed in his life because he never even wanted to be praetor but it was manageable while he was doing it with Reyna and now he’s alone. What the hell is he supposed to do.

By the time Annabeth shows up at Camp Jupiter, Jason is so relieved someone knows what they’re doing that he immediately asks her to be praetor, now if she’ll excuse him he needs to go have an anxiety meltdown in a corner somewhere

[weaselle]

i have a dog client (just one, starting a new business is hard) and she's a two-ish year old husky who was rescued only a couple months ago. I've been working with her for a couple weeks now and she just decided she could trust me yesterday. And i think the reasons why are interesting

So huskies can be sort of aloof, it's easy for a husky to decide they don't really care about you unless you are doing the exact thing that holds their attention. But it was more than that with this dog (she's named after a cheese, let's call her Gouda because she's [mario voice] a good-a dog) I think her experience in life thus far has been a bit traumatic

(this doesn't mean she was beaten or anything, everyone always jumps to that conclusion, but dogs are sensitive social creatures, and just being an orphan in a system that controls you so completely and never knowing who you can form a close bond with could be real trauma... i was given up at a young age by my own parents and it fucked me up pretty good even though i was adopted by my aunt, so i can only imagine what it might be like for a dog to be passed around for two years)

Anyway, she is very withdrawn (tho loving with her new family) and also tends to raise hackles and stiffen up when meeting dogs. For this reason i've been walking and running her alone because i walk some other dogs (not clients, it's part of my customer acquisition technique to be seen out with a pack of dogs) and a couple of those dogs are ... also not the friendliest. So i wanted to set her up for success by giving her time to get comfortable around me and the new activity before i introduced a possible stressful situation of other (grumpy) dogs.

At the meeting there was a growling and snapping situation and I had to use my Big Dog voice (just a big deep "hey" with my full diaphragm) and get between them and shut it down. Then they settled and we went on the walk, during which time there was an additional teeth and snarl moment from the other grumpy dog that i shut down immediately. The rest of the walk they were fine - during the second half i transitioned away from walking between the two, and ended with them walking next to each other close enough to bump and they did great.

Anyway, when i went to drop off Gouda at home, for the first time she really responded to my goodbye, licking my face and nuzzling my ear and bumping her head into my chest, whereas before she wouldn't even walk back over to me for goodbye petting once she was home.

I'm pretty sure it was the interactions with the other dog that did it. Specifically three things

A: for the first time she saw me defend her against another dog, so she knew she could count on me to back her up so she could relax

B: she saw that i was maintaining order and discipline and wouldn't allow dogs to be in altercations so she could relax

C: this is the more nebulous one but one i think is the most interesting: I believe the situation with the other dogs helped her to see me at a high level of disapproval, yet remain within behavior parameters that allow her to feel safe. In other words, she saw me in a situation where dogs were breaking the rules in a pretty big way - a semi fight situation where theoretically i would be at my most threatening or angry - and my response was not scary, i didn't get physical or punish or hold a grudge etc.

I think that last one really cemented it for her, because now Gouda knows if she gets something wrong and makes me "angry" it's going to be okay. So she can relax.

Taken all together, her experience yesterday was that i will defend her against other dogs, i can and will maintain order in the pack, and, importantly, even if she gets something really wrong or i'm in an "angry" situation, i'm safe to be around.

and now we're good friends.

[hannahbarberra162]

Clogged Duck (Milking Hours with Luffy)

TW: lactation, breast worship, smut, fluff :)

OS, Luffy x Reader, ~2.7k wc

Inspired by @otkuhotgirl ‘s Kinktober Day 1 piece. I’ve been thinking about it since I read it, this idea bouncing around my head like a windows screensaver.

You’d never really thought about lactation despite having tits for your whole adult life. Until now. You’d been hit in a fight with the Stork Captain and the lingering consequences were still with you. Your tits had been leaking milk for three days and Chopper said it would be a few more weeks until it stopped. The problem was you had to express the milk otherwise your boobs were painful and tight. You did it by hand in the shower but the process was long and tedious. And now, by some goddamn stroke of bad luck, you had a clogged milk duct. You didn’t even know it was a thing until a day ago but now the red, tender, painful area of your boob was all you could think about.

“Ugh, so what do I do, Chopper?” you asked the little reindeer. You were sitting on the bed in the infirmary as Chopper examined your boob. He was maintaining his professionalism quite well despite the fact that you’d leaked a little milk on his hoof. Sanji was passed out in the next room from nosebleed related blood loss.

“Well, it needs to be unclogged or it can turn into mastitis, which is a serious condition. So you’ll either need to hand express and massage the area until it clears or it can be helped by sucking out the clog,” the doctor explained.

“Sucking? Like -”

“Yes, someone could pull on your teat with their mouth -”

“Don’t call it a teat, that’s weird,” you said with a frown.

“I’ll do it,” Luffy said, standing in the doorway. You blinked - the door had definitely been shut a moment ago. You flushed crimson as you hurriedly covered your tits back up from your Captain. You’d always had a little thing for him but a clogged milk duct was not the way you imagined him seeing your tits for the first time.

“Uh. L-luffy, I don’t think you understand -” you started before Luffy interrupted.

“I do. You’re making milk and need it out of your boobs or you’ll get sicker. I like milk, so I’ll do it,” he stated with a tilt of his head. His unblinking eyes had you in their sights as if you were the weird one for not wanting your Captain to suckle on your tits.

“It’s just that - um - it’s a little...intimate, don’t you think? Also, it’s human milk not cow milk -”

‘It’s weird that humans drink milk meant for baby cows,” interrupted Chopper. You sighed, you didn’t want to have this discussion right now.

“That’s true, it makes more sense for me to drink human milk,” agreed Luffy, his fingers tapping his chin. “So let’s get to it! I’m thirsty,” Luffy whined, sitting down next to you on the infirmary bed. 

“Ok, I’ll give you some privacy. Let me know if Luffy can’t get the clog out, we’ll have to think of something else,” Chopper agreed, making notes on his clipboard.

“N-no, Chopper, I don’t know - I -” you tried to stop the little reindeer from leaving you with the Captain but he was already gone.

“So how should we do this, hm? Side by side wouldn’t be comfortable for me…I know! Come sit on my lap,” Luffy said, already moving you with his arms to face him as he positioned you on his lap. 

“Wha- Luffy! Wait,” you said, pulling on his shirt. Luffy looked at you with a little smile. The bed in the infirmary was small, not meant for two people but you had room to sit on Luffy’s lap. You were facing the Captain, your tits nearly at mouth level, your shins resting on the bed while you straddled him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, holding the hem of your shirt in his hands.

“Y-yeah, of course I do,” you said, putting your hands on his shoulders. In truth, you’d imagined Luffy sucking on your tits - and much more - many times. Your crush on the Captain had started the first time you met him, his silly and adventurous nature capturing your heart from the moment you saw his radiant smile. You hadn’t ever planned to actually act on it, it was a bad idea for crew members to mess around. You’d been on ships where the dynamics were off after a bad breakup or two and it wasn’t worth it.

“I’m gonna make you feel better. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop,” Luffy said with a smile. You were disarmed by his genuine offer and frankly, you needed the pain to stop.

“Alright, Luffy. Can you shut the door? And just - they kinda hurt so be gentle,” you said, letting him pull your shirt over your head. It was dirty from the milk that had leaked out of your tits already. He used a rubber arm to shut the door from across the room and nodded solemnly as you unhooked your bra in the back and pulled it off your arms. You were now topless in front of your crush and you couldn’t look away as he studied your boobs. His eyes were wide and round, like you had a treasure chest filled with jewels.

“So big,” Luffy said in awe, putting his hands on the undersides of your breasts and lifting them up. “Filled with milk for me,” he said, kissing the top of one of your boobs. It already felt better to have the Captain’s strong, calloused hands holding them up and relieving your back from the pain of heaving them around.

“Hah, y-yeah. So to drink you’d need to -”

“I know what to do,” Luffy said, not taking his eyes off your tits. “It’s this one, right?” he said, kissing your left breast. You nodded trying not to moan as he began kneading your breasts. Without warning he popped your nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. You could feel the milk being drained out and you felt immediate relief. You ran your hands through Luffy’s short, thick hair, moaning as he sucked and licked your breast. Looking down, you saw the evidence of his efforts dripping down his chin.

“I - aah - um, is it ok? Do you want to stop?” you said with a heaving breath, hoping he didn’t. You’d always liked nipple play and now it felt even better as it alleviated your pain. You didn’t think Luffy meant anything romantic or sexual with this, but your body didn’t know that as you felt your panties getting wetter and wetter. Luffy let go of your nipple with a pop, picked up his head and gave you a smile. His hands remained on your breasts, massaging them and rubbing your nipples gently with his thumbs.

“ ‘S great! Oh, no! I’ll help you too, don’t cry, I don’t like cry babies,” Luffy said as he noticed your other breast was now leaking milk. He moved his mouth over to your right nipple and began pulling on the other side. You moaned out loud, you didn’t think you could do this again with the Captain. He kissed his way from the underside of your breasts all the way back to your nipples all while his hands toyed with your breasts.

“L-luffy, you don’t n-need to do thaaaaaa -” your protest trailed off as Luffy gently bit your right nipple while tweaking the other.

“Wanna,” was all he answered before resuming flicking his tongue over your tight bud. He took one of his hands and splayed it over your upper back, keeping you in place to devour further. Luffy massaged the side of your left breast, switching back to your affected nipple. Your breathing picked up as he sucked harder than before, trying to work out the clog.

“Y’wanna move on me?” Luffy asked, while keeping your nipple in his mouth. 

“Huh?” you asked, mind confused what he was asking you.

“You’re rubbing yourself on me. You can sit on me if ya want,” he said with no shame. You looked down to see your hips grinding against his own without your knowledge, moving on Luffy’s impressive cock. Your face flamed but…you were already this far with the Captain…

“Luffy, that’s sex,” you said quietly. You’d never seen Luffy expressing romantic or sexual interest so you wanted to be sure that he understood what he was offering you.

“So let’s have sex then,” Luffy said off handedly, picking his face up from your boobs and looking you in the eyes. He continued to keep your breasts in his hands, squishing and massaging them like they were stress balls.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t have to be part of -”

“I’ve thought about it before. Having sex with you. I wanna if you wanna,” Luffy said with his characteristic smile. That damn smile got you every time. 

“Alright, I - I’ve thought about it before too. Having sex with you, I mean,” you said, your face burning with embarrassment. You loved how honest and sincere the Captain always was but it was difficult to reciprocate his openness. You had been going through a dry spell and hadn’t had a partner in a while - ever since the Captain had caught your eye and your heart.

“Take off your pants and underpants,” Luffy commanded, laying you down on the infirmary bed. He loomed over you but gave you space to do as he asked while taking off his own. You’d never seen Luffy’s cock before, it was larger than you had anticipated as it sprang out from his pants. The thick, veiny shaft ended with a beautiful mushroomed top, complete with a pearl of precome. You were having cold feet now that you saw how big he was, but that one drop was making your mouth water. To your surprise, he ran a finger down your stomach, making you giggle.

“Your skin’s so soft,” he said with wonder in his voice. Suddenly, he was on his knees, pulling you onto your upper back to look at your pussy in the air, spreading your legs over his biceps.

“L-lu, I thought we were -

“I wanna see it first. I wanna see if it’s as juicy as I imagined. Ooh, lookit that,” he said, running his fingers through your wet folds, ending by rubbing your clit for a moment. You shivered as Luffy studied you with curious eyes. He repeated his movement, which made you repeat yours. This time he used his index finger to rub only on your clit, changing his movements when you made different noises. He tried tapping, stroking, and even pinching your clit before he settled on rubbing your clit with two fingers in tight circles - which made your legs shake over his arms. You weren’t sure if this was Luffy’s first time with a partner but his intuition was as good in bed as on the battlefield. 

“Aah, Luf- Luffy, if you keep doing that, hah hah I’m g-gonna come soon,” you stammered as you watched him focusing on your quivering pussy.

“ ‘S for me, right?” he asked, his other hand gripping your ass to keep you in place.

“Y-yeah, for you, L-lu,” you replied, closing your eyes tight.

“No, look at me, I wanna see you,” Luffy said softly. Your eyes snapped to his as he let go of your ass and put a finger inside your hole.

“ ‘S tight in there,” he said, pushing his finger in and out. “Could use a friend though,” he said thoughtfully, adding a second finger. Now you couldn’t contain your mewls as he worked your body better than you could, pumping his fingers like a makeshift cock.

“I’m uhng I’m c-close -” you said, gripping his thighs for support.

“So go,” Luffy said quietly, pushing down on your g-spot. The tight coil inside you snapped as you came undone. You tried to keep quiet but you couldn’t help but cry out his name as he brought you to climax. Luffy kept going as you shook under his care, wrenching every last moment of pleasure out of you before setting your ass back on the bed. You were trying to catch your breath as you watched Luffy put his fingers in his mouth, sucking your juices off the digits.

“ ‘S as good on bottom as on top,” he declared, nodding his head. He leaned over you, planting his thighs between your own for missionary position. Luffy lined himself up to enter you but not before kissing you on the forehead.

“I gotta get back to your boobs, make you feel better,” he said, like he was undertaking a mission. He entered you in one stroke, making your back arch off the bed.

“Aah Luffy! G-gimme time to adjust!” you cried out, gripping his arms. Luffy stilled above you, no small feat for a man who couldn’t sit still for a single moment. He dropped to his knees between your own, dipping his head down to your breasts. Still inside you, he resumed sucking on your tits, making you grind up against him.

“O-oh ok, you can move, Lu,” you suggested, seeking more friction than what you were getting. When you imagined sex with Luffy, you thought his normal actions would translate to the bedroom - all silliness and fast movements. But Luffy surprised you, taking you in long languid strokes as he sucked on your sensitive and sore nipples. You raised your legs up and around his waist, crossing them behind his back. Luffy set a slow but compounding rhythm with his hips, bouncing your boobs with every thrust he made in you.

“Mmmh I gotta nnh help your boobs,” Luffy gritted out while pumping into you. He was so focused on the task at hand, he wasn’t chasing his own pleasure, just making sure you met yours. He nipped and sucked on your nipple, leaving no part of your breast untouched or unloved. You kept one hand tangled in his hair, pulling him ever closer to your chest. He kissed his way through the valley between your breasts, making his way to the other, only to resume suckling and gently biting. He was driving you crazy, your over sensitive and tender breasts aching now from the attention he was giving you and not from pain. Luffy took your free hand and entangled his fingers with your own, pinning it above your head.

“Almost t-there,” Luffy grunted, putting his forehead against yours. 

“So go,” you said, repeating his words back to him. Luffy picked up speed and the sounds of his thighs slapping against yours filled the infirmary room. His thrusts became more erratic as a few soft moans spilled from his lips. At the last moment before he came, he leaned closer and kissed you on the lips before spilling inside you. It wasn’t a deep kiss, it was shy and sweet but it made your heart soar. 

“Hah hah is the clogged duck gone?” Luffy asked, breathing hard while pulling out and laying down next to you on the bed. The twin sized bed was hardly large enough for two but side by side you could just fit, one of his legs dangling off the side.

“Duct. Yeah. Think so,” you replied, your fingers still entwined with his. You relished the body heat radiating from your Captain and turned to lay your head on his chest.

“I wan’ ‘em to get clogged again,” he said with a smile, putting his free hand behind his head. You picked your head up off his chest to protest.

“Well I don’t! It hurt. Besides, we could always do this…without a clogged duct?” you said, trying not to project any of your feelings. You didn’t know how Luffy felt and didn’t want to assume or make anything awkward.

“‘Sa good idea. I liked eating below too, shishishishi,” Luffy giggled, making you laugh too. 

~~~

“Luffy! You can’t just grab them in public!” you hissed, trying to pry Luffy’s hands off your tits and his fingers off your nipples discreetly.

“ ‘S not public, ‘s my ship. Besides, I’m thirsty and they’re full, I can feel it,” Luffy pouted, still groping your chest under your shirt. His fingers were pinching your nipples, making your shirt wet.

“That’s not the point! What if - HEY!” you yelled as rubbery arms encircled you like rope and carried you off to the Captain’s quarters. The other Strawhats had the decency to pretend they didn’t see anything, except for Sanji who was crying while cooking lunch.

~~~

[girliism]

priest in training au

a week had passed since you were caught coming back from sneaking out. all the girls on your floor were woken up and you were given a public scolding. you had cried yourself to sleep that night. you use to be good, the nuns use to make examples out of you. but then art walked into your life, and he made you want things, crave things. maybe it was best you didn’t see him anymore

-

“what’s up with you and your virgin mary? was the date so bad she had to shun you.” patrick joked, causing art to push him. “shut up, and don’t call her that. she’s probably just busy with final vow ceremony coming up and everything.” art made excuses for you even though he didn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him.

always rushing out of class, ignoring him during mass, and pretending not to see him waving at you. but you saw all his attempts to talk to you. you felt the way his gaze would burn into the back of your head. it was killing you not to interact with him, but you knew where that would lead.

art was sick of it. sick of you avoiding him. so he cornered you one day outside, dragging you behind a building and trapping you between his hands.

“why have you been ignoring me? did i do something wrong, did i hurt you?” you could hear the confusion in art’s voice and it had you shaking your head. “no! no, it’s not that.” you take a deep breath closing your eyes. “i’ve just been thinking….and i don’t think we should see each other anymore.” you whispered. art’s hands had slipped from where they were resting on the wall.

“what?”

now art was convinced that he did something. “why?” you chewed on your bottom lip shrugging. “it’s just we’re gonna be taking our final vows soon and-” art cut you off scoffing. “so what, you were just gonna never speak to me again?”

you sighed holding art’s hands in yours. “art, i’ve had a lot of fun with you, but realistically how long was this to go on.” forever. art wanted to say. his feelings that started out as purely sexual had morphed into something real. you had bewitched him.

“but what if i don’t want this to end?” he locked his eyes on yours. “what if we just fucked off together. you and me.”

“art.” your furrowed your brows. this was very serious to you. for years you studied towards your nun status and was so close to making your parents proud. while art wouldn’t think twice before abandoning his post.

“what? i’m being serious. there’s nothing for us here but a life of temptation why not just leave.” it was your turn to cut him off. “you’re just saying that because you wanna have sex me.” you hissed, pulling your hands out of his.

you moved to get away from him, away from this conversation but art grabbed your arm pulling you back to face him. “i’m not!” art took a deep breath sighing, preparing himself for the cheesy love confession he was about to give.

“i mean, maybe in the beginning, yeah. but you’ve done something weird to my heart. i…i think about you all the time, you’re in every corner of my mind. and it’s ok if you don’t feel the same but i just can’t go on anymore without you knowing this.”

art stopped speaking and you were shocked. thoughts upon throughts were racing through your head. you thought over the time you spent with art, allowing yourself to give in instead of pushing down those less than pure feelings had felt freeing.

were you really going to go back to making empty vows and hiding under your vails of false purity?

your lack of an immediate answer had art’s hands dropping their hold on you arms. sensing he was going to walk away you blurted out.

“i’ve never done such things like this before meeting you.” you blinked. “you make my heart feel weird as well. a weird feeling that i wanna keep feeling. but… i’m scared and-”

arts hands were on your cheeks and his lips met yours before you could finish speaking. the kiss was soft and slow. different from the ones you usually have. your mouth automatically stared moving with his, like a natural instinct.

“you don’t have to be.” art said breaking the kiss. placing his forehead on yours. “we’d have each other. and possibly my grandmother.” he was quick to add on the end, which had you huffing a laugh.

maybe everything would be ok.

(next smut 😈)

[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Chasing Ghosts.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader (platonic)

Summary: Everything in your life is finally under control and almost perfect, but somehow chasing the ghost of Aaron Hotchner is still an obsession.

Words: 1,9k.

Warnings & Tags: angst WITHOUT a happy ending. hotch being an absent father figure. so much angst (yes, again). temporarily located after he leaves the FBI. same reader as in "tall child" but several years after that. so inspired by “like him” by tyler, the creator and all the edits with the song that I see. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I've been having trouble getting through the second part of "Tall Child" (if you're wondering if I'll write one, yep, and I hope to upload it soon but I'm so blocked:c). This idea came to me out of the blue because I, too, feel abandoned when I start watching the episodes after Hotch leaves<///3.

The quiet hum of the BAU filled the air, the same familiar rhythm of paperwork being shuffled, pens scratching against files, and the faint sound of voices from down the hall. The office you were in—Emily’s office now—still carried faint echoes of what it used to be. The desk was different, the decor had shifted, but the weight of the space hadn’t changed. It was still steeped in years of hard decisions, late-night strategizing, and memories that lingered even when the man who made them had gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

You sighed as you sifted through a stack of reports, scanning them for inconsistencies. It wasn’t even your responsibility—you were just helping out, filling a gap as the team caught up on their endless backlog. You’d been in this office countless times since Aaron had left, but it still felt strange. Like you didn’t quite belong. Like you were stepping on sacred ground that no longer had a place for you.

Being here without him was like being in a different place.

You’d been trying not to think about it, about how long it had been since he left. A year now, maybe more. You weren’t counting. Or so you told yourself for mental health. But in moments like this, standing in what used to be his space, surrounded by the echoes of his presence, it was impossible not to feel the sting of his absence.

You didn’t blame him for leaving—not entirely. Jack deserved his father, a life of peace away from the chaos of the FBI. You’d even admired his courage for walking away from something he’d dedicated his life to…You knew you would never do something like that; he was brave. But nothing of that softened the sharp edge of hurt that had been lodged in your chest ever since the day he said goodbye by a stupid piece of paper.

The truth was, he hadn’t just left the Bureau and all the atrocities that this entailed. He’d left you.

Your eyes flicked toward the desk, now Prentiss’s, and for a moment, your fingers brushed its edge. It was ridiculous how something as simple as the grain of the wood could bring back a flood of memories—of late nights, terse discussions, and the way his voice would take on that steady, commanding tone that somehow made you feel both safe and seen. The way he scolded you when you did things against protocol, the way he almost smiled when he thought you didn't notice, and most of all, the way he left overnight.

A soft knock at the door snapped you back to the present. You looked up, startled, to see Rossi leaning casually against the doorframe. His sharp eyes seemed to take in everything—the reports, your posture, the way your hand still rested on the edge of the desk, as though anchoring you to something unseen.

“Working hard, or hardly working?” he quipped, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

You mustered a weak smile. “Just helping Emily with the backlog. Thought I’d clear some of this off her plate.”

He nodded, his gaze drifting around the room. It lingered on the desk, the walls, and the chair before settling back on you. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something knowing—that made your stomach twist.

“You’re in here a lot,” David observed, his tone casual but laced with something deeper.

More than a lot for someone who was supposed to stop doing it on the advice of her therapist.

Because you don’t need to keep hiding you in work. Your life was good now, or so you kept telling yourself. You had settled into your role on the team, earned the respect of your colleagues, and built a rhythm that felt steady, even fulfilling. You went home to a warm apartment that didn’t feel so empty anymore, filled with little things that made you smile: books on the coffee table, cozy blankets, a half-dead plant you kept forgetting to water. You even start to have casual dates sometimes to open your heart to the world.

“Just helping,” you repeated, more curtly than you really intended.

“Hmm.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the desk. “You know, you’ve always been a terrible liar.”

“What?” you asked, your tone, again, sharper than you intended. The defenses around you were activating automatically.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk on his lips betrayed him. “Nothing. Just…noticing things.”

Your jaw tightened. Working with profilers meant every word, every movement, was analyzed. You hated it so much in these moments.

“What?” You demanded, unable to keep the irritation from your voice.

He tilted his head, studying you with that maddening patience of his. “You make the same expressions he used to.”

No. No. No.

Do not mention him. Don't make even the slightest reference to him. Don't think about him. Don’t.

The air seemed to leave the room. Your heart clenched, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. “What are you talking about?” you asked, though you knew. Of course, you knew.

“The furrowed brow when you’re deep in thought,” he said, his voice softer now. “The way you purse your lips when you’re frustrated but trying to hide it. And now, in this desk…you’ve always been like him. Always will be.”

You’re just like him? You look like him?

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. “Great. I’ve picked up his bad habits too.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Rossi said gently, his voice softer now. “It just means he left a mark.”

You turned away, pretending to focus on the files in front of you, but the words hit harder than you wanted to admit. Of course, Hotch had left a mark. How could he not? He’d been your anchor, your mentor, your constant—even when you were at odds. And then he’d left. He’d walked away from the BAU and from you as if you were disposable.

“Doesn’t matter,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “He’s gone.”

Rossi didn’t respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost hesitant. “Still angry at him?”

The question hit you like a gut punch, and for a moment, you couldn’t respond. Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as if the physical discomfort could drown out the storm in your chest. “I’m not angry,” you said, the words escaping your lips faster than your brain could catch them.

It was much more complex than that. Your feeling was more akin to disappointment than anger or rage because you knew you could never hate him.

He didn’t press further, instead leaning more comfortably against the desk, as if he had all the time in the world. “You know he wanted a life for Jack,” he countered, his voice measured. “You can’t blame him for that.”

“I’m not blaming him,” you said, though it felt like a lie even as you spoke it. “But I don’t get why he had to leave everything.” you snapped, the sharpness of your voice startling even yourself. You turned away, staring hard at the stack of files, though the words on the pages blurred into meaningless lines. “He could’ve stayed in touch. But he didn’t.”

Zero calls, zero messages, zero signs that at least you mattered to him.

Rossi sighed, his expression softening with something like sympathy. “Aaron’s always been good at one thing: convincing himself that distance is the best way to protect the people he cares about.”

You looked away, the weight of his words settling uncomfortably in your chest. It didn’t make it hurt your heart any less. Nothing could ever dispel the pain, nothing but the embrace of the same person who provoked it.

There was a long pause before he spoke again, his tone lighter, almost teasing. “You know, there’s a way to settle this.”

You frowned, glancing up at him. “What are you talking about?”

Without a word, Rossi reached into his pocket. The sound of his hand brushing against the fabric of his jacket broke the tension like a crack of thunder in the stillness. He pulled out a small card and held it between two fingers, his expression unreadable as he extended it toward you.

“What’s this?” you asked, the words coming out more hesitant than you wanted.

“His number,” he said simply. “It changed.”

Your eyes dropped to the card, to the string of numbers printed neatly on its surface. For a moment, all you could do was stare. It felt like the weight of the entire room had shifted onto that tiny slip of paper. Your fingers twitched at your side, aching to grab it, yet rooted to the spot.

“I’m not calling him,” you said, though your grip on the card betrayed your uncertainty.

David smiled knowingly, as if he’d already won. “I didn’t say you had to. But if you ever want to talk to him, you’ve got the number.”

You shook your head. “No. If he wanted to talk to me, he would’ve called. He hasn’t.”

“Maybe he thinks you don’t want to hear from him,” Rossi countered. “Maybe he’s giving you space.”

“Space?” you repeated, the word bitter on your tongue. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Abandoning people?”

“He didn’t abandon you,” Rossi countered firmly, though there was no edge in his tone, only understanding. “He left because he had to. For Jack. For himself. And maybe—just maybe—he thought you were strong enough to handle it.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you turned away, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay. You hated how much they affected you, how much he still affected you. “Well, he was wrong,” you muttered, the words barely audible.

Rossi didn’t argue, didn’t press. “You don’t have to use it,” he said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But if you do, maybe you’ll figure out that he didn’t leave you. He just…left.”

With that, he stepped back and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing softly down the hallway until they disappeared altogether, leaving you alone in the thick, suffocating silence.

Your eyes fell back to the card on the desk. It seemed out of place there, too bright and clean against the chaos of papers and reports. You stared at it as if it might leap off the desk and demand an answer. But it just sat there, motionless, yet somehow unbearably loud.

Your grip tightened, the edges of the card biting into your palm. And then, with a sharp, decisive motion, you tore it in half. The sound was quick, final, like the snap of a cord that had been fraying for far too long. You tore it again, and again, the pieces falling to the desk in a jagged, fragmented pile. Each rip felt like releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, like reclaiming some small measure of control over the chaos he’d left behind.

When the pieces were no more than scraps, you gathered them up and marched to the trash can. You dropped them in, the fragments fluttering down like ashes from a fire long extinguished. You stared at them for a moment, your chest heaving, your emotions still raw but now dulled by the act of destruction.

Turning back to the desk, you sank into the chair, forcing your focus onto the reports in front of you. The room still felt heavy, the ghost of his presence lingering in the corners, but you pushed it aside. There was work to do. There was always work to do.

And after all, you were just like him.

[justwinginglife]

A Trial of Tears and Tails

Sorry this is so random, I came up with this idea and wrote it on my lunch break, haha. Just thought it was so cute and funny.

“Um. My love. Are you fully rested? Could you come here and tell me that it’s not just my lack of sleep making me see things?”

Rafayel poked his head into the bathroom with a towel in hand. “What’s wrong, honey? I got the towel, like you-” He dropped the towel, eyes practically bulging out of his head.

“Okay. So it’s not just me then.”

Giggles erupted from the bathtub beside you as your son busied himself poking soap bubbles, oblivious to the stares of his two parents and oblivious to the fact that where once there had been two little legs, there now emerged a tail. A mermaid tail.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “I mean, it’s cute. It’s super cute. But does he… I mean, did he do it on purpose? Does he even know he did it? Does he know how to control it? Or is he going to keep randomly transforming for the rest of his life? What if he doesn’t know how to change it back? Will he ever walk again?” You started spiraling.

Rafayel rushed to your side, kneeling down beside you at the foot of the tub and pulling you into his arms. “Hey, hey, don’t think too hard; you’ll give yourself a headache. Look at him- he’s fine. He’s happy. I say we just let it play out and see what happens, kay? It’ll be fine.” He repeated again, nuzzling his nose against your ear before leaning up to press a reassuring kiss to your temple.

But soon enough, it was very much not fine.

At first, you both just watched your son. You watched as he splashed around in pure bliss, you watched as his smile spilled across his face and tugged at his rosy cheeks, you watched as he squealed his delight. And you thought to yourself that he’d never been cuter than he was right now. You couldn’t help but pepper him with kisses and he couldn’t help but laugh. Rafayel gazed fondly at the warm sight before him and, wanting to join in on the fun, he soon began tickling your son’s sides.

That was when the trouble started.

In attempts to escape Rafayel’s tickles, your son soon began splashing and squirming, and it was then that he realized he couldn’t just up and run. It was then that he realized that he was now stranded in the tub, bound by his flopping tail. And he didn’t know why the hell he had a tail.

He started crying, screaming, wailing- all manner of devastation and despair arose within him. And it damn near broke Rafayel’s heart.

He immediately moved into a protective stance, trying to console the tearful toddler. He made silly faces, he ruffled his hair, he picked him up and cradled him, rocking him in his arms, whispering that everything would be okay. He pressed kiss upon kiss to his head, like it was a precious ritual, like all would be well once he’d bestowed enough of his love. But it was to no avail.

Rafayel turned to you in desperation; “Help me,” clear in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do??” You mouthed back to him, taking the crying child from him.

He threw his arms up in frustration, “I dunno- sing him a song, do something, do anything!”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, rocking him back and forth, as you began to sing the first song that came to your mind. “Um… I wanna be… where the people are. I wanna see… wanna see them dancing.”

Rafayel raised a brow at you. “Part of your world? Really? That was the best you could come up with?”

“You said to sing him a song! I thought it kinda… fit the situation?”

Rafayel snorted. “I see it’s going to be up to me to fix this. Alright, give him here; lemme try again.”

After taking him back from you, Rafayel marched his way into the kitchen. You followed behind, curious as to what his next plan of action was.

“Maybe the little guy is just hangry. Some food will cheer him up.” Rafayel started to warm up his steak dinner from last night.

“Raf! He barely has teeth, how is he gonna chew the steak?” You exclaimed.

“Well… maybe I’m hangry too! Maybe the food was for me.” Rafayel grumbled, anxiously chomping on his steak before spoonfeeding some of his mashed potatoes to the kid. Fortunately, it seemed to soothe him for the time being, but the issue of his tail was still to be addressed. How were you going to get him to turn back? You were sure once he finished munching on mashed potatoes that he would remember the tail and then be back to bawling and blubbering in no time at all. And if he cried, Rafayel might just cry. And you couldn’t have that.

So you disappeared into the nursery and came back with his favorite toys, his favorite books, his favorite movies. You spent the next two hours entertaining him, reenacting epic fight scenes between his toy robot and his toy dinosaur, reading to him all manner of fantasy and fiction, and snuggling up beside him as the TV played his favorite movies. He was more doted on than he’d ever been in his single year of living. And he loved it. But he still had the damn tail.

Rafayel suggested yoga and that was when he learned that children were not very flexible. Then he suggested meditation and that was when he learned that children do not sit still long enough for it. He finally settled on teaching the kid to use the tail, and that was when he learned that the age of one was far too young for someone to learn how to swim. The kid retained absolutely none of the information Rafayel so enthusiastically provided.

You knew this was a very serious moment, but it was hard not to laugh when you heard Rafayel’s voice echoing in the bathroom, emphatically declaring, “Now, kick! That’s not a kick, kick! Like this! No, like this! That’s a… that’s something. That’s… getting closer. Nope, never mind, it’s not. Yeah, okay, this is not working.”

Eventually, Rafayel passed out on the couch with the child dozing off in his arms. Your poor husband had exhausted nearly every brain cell in existence trying to solve this issue (so his nap was much deserved), but now, as you watched the two of them fondly, you noticed that peeking out from beneath the blanket, two tiny feet had finally appeared.

You laughed so hard that you almost woke them up when you realized what had happened; he had exhausted the kid back into being a human.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @tbaluver @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter

[watarfallar]

Incorrect quotes because I'm rewatching Wild Life

Scar: Hey Grian, check out this funny .GIF I found! Grian: It’s pronounced “jif”. Scar: Huh? Grian: “Dot jif”, like the peanut butter. The creator said so. Scar: That’s dumb, it’s Graphics Interchange Format. Grian: The P in .JPEG stands for “photographic”, but I bet you don’t say “J-pheg”. Scar: “P” on its own isn’t pronounced like “F”, that’s totally different! Grian: It’s exactly the same! Scar: Name one word that starts with “G” pronounced like “J”. Grian: Gentrification. Scar: Shoot, should have thought of that. I was just in San Francisco. Grian: For your logic to be consistent, you’d have to say “skuh-bah” (scuba) or “lah-seer” (laser)! Scar: Yeah? Well, you’d have to say “J-pej”! Scar: …Wait, “laser” is an acronym? Grian: Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. Scar: Huh. Didn’t know that. Scar: You’re still wrong, though. Grian: You just hate me because I’m right. Scar: I just hate you in general. Grian: You mean in “geh-neral”? Scar: Ugh, I’m “joing” to kill you!

Grian: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the cops! Scar: loads shotgun I got this. Grian: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

Scar: Okay, Grian, you were right! I was… Less right!

Scar: Grian, wake up! Grian, half asleep: Five more minutes… Scar: You’ve been in a coma for two years! Grian: … Grian: Okay, two more minutes…

Grian: Shut it Scar, I only shook your hand because I had to. We will NEVER be friends. Scar: Lets survive this together! Grian: I HOPE YOU DIE.

Scar: What’s your biggest fear? Grian: I am incredibly arachnophobic. Scar, under their breath: You don’t want spiders to get married?

Grian: chokes on something Scar: Jeez, Grian, don't die on us. Grian: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want!

Grian and Scar are texting Grian: Who are you? Someone changed the names in my phone. Scar: What did they change my name to? Grian: Chosen One. Scar: Don’t change it back. Grian: BUT WHO ARE YOU?!?! Scar: I’m the chosen one.

Scar: Are you mad? Grian: No. Scar: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Grian: Alright, listen up you little shits. Grian: Not you Scar. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

Scar: According to the footage here, you shook the vending machine and when the shake alarm went off, you punched the glass and broke it. Grian: …I was hungry.

Grian: Don’t you have any dignity, Scar? Scar: Uh, no.

Grian: Do you want this handful of moss? Scar: Why would I want a handful of fucking moss? Grian: Damn, you could’ve just said no.

Scar: Your problem is that you’ve got no common sense. Grian: I’ve got plenty of common sense! Grian: I just choose to ignore it.

Scar: I’m serious! They’re watching me! They’ve even got an agent following me! Don’t you believe me? Grian: Look, it’s not that I don’t believe you… It’s that I don’t believe you and I don’t care.

Scar: Grian keeps forgetting which WiFi network they're supposed to use. Scar: So I renamed ours to "Grian, use this one" to help them out a little.

Grian: Please, Scar, after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Grian: I’m sorry Scar. Grian: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Scar: It has to be done. Grian: Scar: Grian: Scar: Places +4 Uno.

Scar: Does immaturely insulting me make you feel better about your sad single life? Grian: It actually does.

Grian: Amazing! Scar, your just like Sherlock Homeless! Scar: IT'S HOLMES!

Grian: I taught the dog a new trick. throws ball Fetch! Dog: just stands there Scar: He didn’t do it. Grian: I taught him to ignore social conventions and think for himself.

Grian: What the hell is wrong with you? Scar: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

Grian: Do you have a superpower? Scar: Yep! It’s hindsight. Grian: …that’s not going to help us. Scar: Yes, I see that now.

Grian: You’re giving me a sticker? Scar: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Grian: I’m not a preschooler. Scar: Fine, I’ll take it back- Grian: I earned this, back off!