#rory's fluff

[heda-in-the-clouds]

Here's a fluffy and cute story about how yoga!Lexa and surfer!Clarke met Fish the puppy. The lovely and amazingly talented @lexa-griffins drew this sketch of Lexa holding Fish for me. She's the absolute best beta I could have asked for

That's not a fish

Lexa dug her toes into the cold sand that morning as the early sunrise gently warmed her skin. She and Clarke were just a couple of days into their two week road trip for the summer.

After their passionate night under the stars, she decided to let Clarke sleep some more that morning. A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled last night's events.

The beach parking lot was empty which allowed them to open their van's backdoor and watch the sunset as they made love with each other. They were finally free to moan and scream out their pleasures that were only drowned out by the crashing waves.

Clarke took her from behind as they watched the sunset over the calm horizon. The dying rays of light warmed her skin while Clarke's vigorous thrusts warmed her core. As the waves pounded the beach, Clarke pounded into her. She felt every push and pull of Clarke's strokes like the ocean's tide. The waves crashing into the beach left the sand wet just like how Clarke's thrusts left her wet.

She finally saw a brilliant explosion of color in her eyes as she climaxed. She couldn't tell if it was the plethora of colors from the sunset or her powerful orgasm blinding her. She didn't care as Clarke filled her.

Lexa snapped herself free from her memory when she felt her yoga shorts getting wet. It was too early to be getting those thoughts and she didn't pack nearly enough underwear.

She needed to cool down and focus her thoughts. She pulled out her yoga mat, laid it down on the cool sand, and started her early morning yoga routine. She went through her usual motions and gracefully held and transitioned between her favorite poses.

She got into a downward dog, closed her eyes, and meditated to clear her mind. As she meditated, she suddenly felt something wet licking her face. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of an adorable golden retriever puppy watching her curiously. She couldn't help but smile and gush at her new fluffy companion.

"Bark." The puppy playfully barked when Lexa smiled at him.

"What's your name cutie? I'm Lexa." She cheerfully asked as she continued holding her form.

"Bark bark." The puppy continued barking at his new friend.

"It's so nice to meet you 'Bark bark.' You're just the cutest thing aren't you?" Lexa lovingly blurted out.

The puppy bashfully tilted his head, looked down, and dug his tiny paw into the sand after hearing Lexa's compliment. The puppy then began prancing around hoping Lexa would stop whatever she's doing and play with him. Lexa couldn't help but grin at this fluffy bundle of joy.

The puppy then arched his back and leaned forward as he tried to copy Lexa's pose. She giggled when his floppy ears covered his eyes causing him to roll over onto his back and let out soft whimpers. Lexa quickly got out of downward dog, sat down and reached for him.

"I guess I'm done with yoga for today. It's okay puppy. You're alright. I'm here." Lexa soothed her new companion as she rubbed his belly. He gave her an appreciative bark.

"Yoga isn't for everyone. You should meet Clarke. She's really bad at yoga too." Lexa chuckled when the puppy tilted his head at her as if he could understand her.

Seeing a new place to sit, the puppy waddled over and climbed over her legs. He spun around in a couple of circles before clumsily plopping himself down onto her lap. He nuzzled into her stomach hoping to warm himself up. Lexa just beamed and gushed when the puppy finally settled himself into her lap.

"What are you doing all out here by yourself buddy? Do you belong to anyone?" Lexa asked as she rubbed the puppy's head and scratched his ears.

"Ow ow." The puppy whined which sounded like a 'No' to Lexa's ears. She then checked his collar for any tags but couldn't find any. She knew the beach was empty last night and this morning so she figured he was a stray.

"Well, you're sticking with me now. How do you like that?"

"Awoo" The puppy adorably howled and wagged his tail after hearing the good news. He then climbed onto Lexa's chest and began smothering her face with wet kisses using his tongue. Lexa giggled and laughed as her new friend gave her an early morning bath.

"I guess that's a yes puppy. I just gotta give you a name first. I can't keep calling you puppy."

The puppy then stopped lapping Lexa's face with his tongue and patiently stared at her.

"Mhm, what about Fish? We found you at the beach and my girlfriend is a marine biologist and crazy about them. What do you say Fish?"

"Awooooooo!" The puppy gleefully howled and smothered Lexa with even more kisses.

"Okay Fish. Stop. Let's go and show you off to Clarke." Lexa pleaded as she pulled Fish off her and set him down so she could roll up her yoga mat.

Fish bounced excitedly as he waited for her. Once she was done, she beckoned Fish to follow her up the trail to their van. Fish happily barked as he weaved between her legs during their walk.

As Lexa got closer to their van, she noticed that Clarke was already up. Her feet were hanging over the edge as she probably sipped her morning cocoa. Wanting to surprise her girlfriend, Lexa bent down so she could talk to Fish.

"Okay Fish. Are we ready to meet Clarke? She's so gonna love you. I mean how can she not with your big floppy ears, adorable brown eyes, and warm fluffy fur that's the same color as her hair." Lexa gently patted his head and rubbed behind his ears.

"Bark!"

"Shh! Don't want to ruin the secret just yet." Lexa grinned as she zipped her lips with her finger.

Fish stuck out his tongue which seemed like an 'Ok' to Lexa. She then gestured for him to wait there so he was out of sight. He bobbed his head up and down. Lexa smiled and silently told herself that Fish was already so smart.

Lexa then walked to the back of the van where she saw Clarke drowsily drinking her morning cocoa with her eyes still closed and their blanket wrapped tightly around her.

Sensing Lexa was near, Clarke immediately opened the blanket and her legs.

"Come on babe. It's cold. I need my girlfriend to warm me up." Clarke groggily uttered when she felt the cool ocean breeze penetrate her warm blanket fortress.

Lexa quickly stepped inside and between Clarke's legs. Clarke immediately pulled her in close and wrapped the blanket tight around them. They both leaned into each other and softly kissed. Clarke's hummed at the subtle taste of salt on Lexa's cold lips. Lexa moaned as she tasted the sweet chocolate on Clarke's warm lips.

"Morning love." They both greeted each other once they broke their kiss but still nuzzled their noses together.

"I missed you this morning. In fact, we missed you this morning." Clarke softly whispered to Lexa's ear.

"We?" Lexa furrowed her eyebrows.

Clarke pulled Lexa in closer with her legs and smirked into her neck when Lexa felt her hard against her shorts.

"I was hoping we could pick up where we left off last night. Since we fucked in front of the sunset, I wanted to go full circle and fuck you in front of the sunrise." Clarke murmured into Lexa's neck.

"Clarke you dog!" Lexa playfully slapped her girlfriend's chest. She suddenly heard Fish's tiny whimper next to her. He had inadvertently walked up to her after hearing the word dog.

"I'm sorry babe but you looked so peaceful this morning that I didn't want to wake you. It looked like you could use the extra rest." Lexa apologized.

"Besides, we still have plenty of more beaches to visit on our road trip. You have more chances to fuck me in front of a sunrise or sunset." Lexa reassured.

"All is forgiven babe. Now that you're here, what do you say about a morning quickie? I could use one to start the day and get my blood flowing. I felt your shorts and they're already wet." Clarke cheekily grinned as she rubbed Lexa's sides and began dipping her fingers into her yoga shorts.

"Claaarke. Wait, I have to show you something first and promise you won't freak out." Lexa uttered before she gave into Clarke's proposal for a quickie.

"Umm, ok. What is it Lexa?" Clarke inquired as she stopped squeezing her girlfriend's ass and let her go.

"Wait here. You're gonna love this surprise." Lexa then walked to the side of their van and picked up Fish who started licking her hands, eager for attention.

"Ready boy?"

"Bark!"

Lexa walked back to Clarke, cradling Fish in her arms.

"Meet Fish!" Lexa excitedly squealed as she shoved her puppy into Clarke's face.

"That is a dog." Clarke countered with a confused expression.

"Yeah, Fish." Lexa grinned as she began to rock Fish in her arms so his floppy ears began waving around.

"Bark bark bark" Fish happily barked at Clarke.

"You named the puppy Fish?" Clarke asked as she sat perplexed in the van as Lexa danced happily with Fish in front of her.

"Yeah, he's ours. I found him all alone this morning while I was doing yoga. He has no tag and there was no one else on the beach either last night or this morning so he must be a stray. We're adopting him because we can't just leave him all by himself here. He needs a family. Also, I named him Fish well because I found him at the beach and you like fish because you're a marine biologist so I put two and two together and ta-da, I came up with Fish. Look Clarke, he's so fluffy!!!!" Lexa breathlessly spoke before she shoved Fish directly in front of Clarke's face who was still processing in all the new information.

"Ours?" Clarke gulped nervously as four eyes stared longingly at her. Fish's tiny brown eyes watered as he let out an adorable yawn. Lexa's soft green irises begged as she pouted her lips.

"Ok, fine. We can keep Fish." Clarke finally gave in after she was overcome with emotions at how soft and cute Lexa looked holding her fluffy Fish in her arms.

"Awooooo!" Fish happily howled as he wiggled in Lexa's arms.

"Yay!!! Thank you babe! I love you. We love you don't we Fish? Fish say thank you to Clarke." Lexa gleefully squealed.

Suddenly, Clarke felt Fish's wet tongue slobbering all over her face as Lexa laughed hysterically in the background.

"Okay, I think Fish has said enough thank you's to me already babe." Clarke panted out as she tried to avoid Fish's tongue.

"Um Clarke?" Lexa shyly asked after she pulled Fish away from Clarke's now drool covered face.

"Yes love?" Clarke calmly responded as she wiped off Fish's drool from her face using their blanket.

"How do you take care of a dog? I've never had a pet before." Lexa quietly confessed.

Clarke groaned and sighed. This was going to be a long road trip.

[fromrory]

𐔌 ⋮ “She loves what makes her suffer.”

— or, Damian's habibti who's is allergic to flowers, and Damian Wayne commits an act of devotion anyway

She loves flowers.

She says it like a confession, every time.

“I know they make me sneeze,” she’ll murmur, eyes watering, “but look at this one. Isn’t she so pretty?”

She’ll cradle a daisy like a holy relic. Brush her fingers reverently across petals in the florist shop window, sighing like she’s greeting old friends. Her voice goes soft around the names of them — freesia, peony, jasmine. Like each one is a poem she’s memorized in another life.

And then she’ll sneeze.

Violently.

Five times in a row.

Damian once watched her nearly pass out because she insisted on keeping a bouquet of lilacs in her room for “vibe purposes.” Alfred had to intervene.

It makes no logical sense.

Why would someone adore something that actively harms them?

He tells her so.

“You know you’re allergic,” he says one day, watching her hold a wildflower with tears in her eyes and blotchy cheeks.

She beams. “But they’re so hopeful, Damian. Like tiny living declarations of beauty for no reason.”

He squints. “That’s irrational.”

“That’s romantic.”

“They make your throat close.”

“They make my heart open.”

He almost chokes on the sheer emotional recklessness of it.

That night, Damian goes to the greenhouse behind the Manor.

The one Cass tends to like it’s her sanctuary.

He enters with surgical gloves and no expectations.

He leaves three hours later, covered in dirt, vaguely pissed off, and carrying a seed catalogue.

Two weeks pass.

She doesn’t hear much from him — patrols, League interference, Bat drama. She doesn’t push. He’s not much of a texter, anyway. But when she rounds the corner into the Wayne Manor west wing one afternoon, Alfred gently guides her to a door she’s never seen before.

“Master Damian asked me to escort you,” the old man says with a subtle smile.

“…To a horror movie set?”

Alfred simply opens the door.

Inside — is a room.

Not large. Not ornate.

But it glows.

The walls are covered in soft white drapes. Fairy lights snake across the ceiling in warm lines. A low wooden bench sits in the center, surrounded by pots of—

“Wait,” she breathes.

There are flowers.

Everywhere.

Lilies. Marigolds. Poppies. Violets. Not a single one real — but perfect. Crafted from fabric, glass, paper, even delicate origami. Each one clearly made by hand. Folded and cut and painted with so much care her knees go weak.

She touches one. Petals like satin. No pollen. No sneezing.

There’s a small tag attached to the nearest pot.

“They won't hurt you. But they’re still yours.” — D.W.

She spins around— And he’s there. In the doorway. Arms folded. Face impassive.

“I had to study seven different origami guides,” he mutters, clearly embarrassed. “And burn the tips of my fingers with glue four times.”

“You made these?”

He shrugs.

Her heart squeezes like a vice.

“You made these.”

“I logically deduced that the artificial replicas were the safest way to approximate the aesthetic effect without the accompanying allergic reaction.”

“Damian.”

His jaw twitches.

She crosses the room slowly, stopping just in front of him.

“I love them.”

“I know.”

“No, like—this is insane. You folded an entire bouquet of calla lilies.”

“I had blueprints. Cass helped with the iris. Hers looked better.”

She cups his face before he can duck away. Holds it in her hands like something sacred.

“Say it again.”

“…Cass helped with the—?”

“No. The other thing.”

His throat bobs. He looks away.

“I know,” he says again. Quieter this time. “I know you love them. I wanted you to have something beautiful that doesn’t punish you for wanting it.”

Her eyes sting. (Not from allergies this time.)

“Damian.”

He finally looks at her.

And then—

She kisses him.

Soft. Certain. Like pressing her lips to the quietest part of his soul.

Later, the Batfam finds out.

Because of course they do.

Jason walks in and sees the room. Stops dead. Blinks. “Yo, who built an allergy-safe fairy cottage in here?”

Stephanie gasps so hard she chokes. “Did Damian Wayne do a Pinterest project?!”

Tim silently walks in, takes one look, and walks right back out. “I can’t. I’m gonna cry. I have midterms. I can’t process this.”

Dick just grins. Grins.

“Little D made a flower garden for his girl. Guys. He’s in love.” He turns to Damian, who looks like he’d rather spontaneously combust. “Tell me you at least kissed her in here.”

Damian doesn’t answer.

But She walks in wearing a flower clip in her curls made from folded gold paper, smiling like she carries the sun in her chest.

So yeah.

They know.

The room stays.

Sometimes Cass sits in there and folds more blooms. Sometimes she brings music and sings while paints new petals.

Sometimes Damian just… sits in silence. Watching the light shift across the room he built for a girl who loves the very thing that makes her suffer.

He doesn’t believe in many things.

But he believes in her.

And now— She has flowers that never make her cry. Only smile.

And that’s all he ever wanted.

writing this while listening Sombr on repeat is crazy LOL Taglist🏷️: @simpingmyassoff , @shootingstargirl2001 (if you want to be added,comment down below!) reblogs,comments and likes are appreciated! ©𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐,𝑹𝒐𝒓𝒚🐚 —-do not copy, repost, plagiarize,translate or feed any of my work into ai. I work hard to give quality content.

[chrisstvrns]

⌞chris spoiling you (and then fucking you) in italy⌝⸝⸝

warnings: established relationship, fiance!chris x fiancee!reader, high school sweethearts, dom!chris, possessive chris, pda, chris spoiling you, praise kink, light biting, marking, hotel sex, semi public sex (window), creampie, aftercare,

word count: 1.5k

high school sweethearts. seven years of dating. one year of being engaged, and chris still felt the need to spoil you every single time you went on vacation. the triplets had been invited to milan by prada, for fashion week. and of course, as always, you tagged along. 

right now, you were somewhere in the middle of the galleria vittorio emanuele ii, pretending to admire the high end window displays while chris trailed just behind you, his fingers laced with yours, a subtle tug keeping you close. every time you so much as glanced at something for more than a second, he was already reaching for his card. you’d said no. multiple times. but it didn’t matter. if you liked it, he wanted you to have it.

“baby, stop. i dont need all this.” you smiled, softly giggling as he tugged you toward the italian lingerie store, after noticing you do a double take at the pretty pink set in the window. 

he gave you that slow, crooked smile that still made your stomach flutter after all these years. “we’re in italy, baby. let me give you everything.”

and he did. not just the shopping bags weighing down his arms now, or the spontaneous private dinner he had planned on a terrace overlooking the duomo. not just the matching jewelry he picked out “because it reminded him of you.” chris gave you everything. the kind of love that still made your chest ache in the best way. that quiet, constant presence. his hand on your lower back. his black, fur jacket shrugged over your shoulders when the wind picked up. the way he looked at you like he was still thirteen and stupid in love, still figuring everything out.

it wasn’t until later, when the sun had set and the city had softened, that he gave you the rest of him.

you were back in the hotel now. luxurious and tucked away from the noise. chris had your back pressed against the window of your hotel room, your dress hiked up over your hips and his name falling from your lips like a prayer. you and chris were sharing the room with nick, but chris had asked him to go sit in matts room for a bit. 

the lights of milan glittered below, but your eyes were only for him. his hands were firm on your waist, his mouth hot and insistent against your neck, and his voice low in your ear. 

“you looked so fuckin’ pretty today, baby.” he murmured, thrusting into you slowly, deliberately, like he had all the time in the world. “walking around like you didn’t know how good you looked with my ring on your finger.”

and then, amidst your quiet gasps and the sound of the city below. he chuckled, low and breathy against your skin.

“look at all those fuckin’ bags on the floor,” he muttered, voice rough, almost teasing. “spoiled the shit outta you today.”

your laugh broke on a moan as he rolled his hips into yours again, slower this time, deeper. he kissed just below your ear, a little softer now. “and i’d do it again tomorrow. and the next day. and every day after. i love spoiling you.”

then he bit down lightly on your neck, grounding himself with a bruising grip on your waist, and you could barely breathe.

“but this?” he growled, thrusting into you harder, making your head fall back with a cry, “this is just for me.”

and from there, he didn’t stop.

you gasped, holding onto the side of his neck with one hand, the other tangling in his hair. he always got like this when you traveled. territorial, obsessed, soft and rough in equal measure.

“chris,” you whimpered, and he groaned, pulling you closer.

“say it.”

“chris.” you repeat

“no,” he growled, fucking into you harder, his breath stuttering, “say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you breathed, so full of him it made your whole body thrum. “always yours.”

his breath hitched at your words. i’m yours, like it broke something open in him. his hands gripped your waist tighter, bruising, as he rutted up into you one last time against the glass before pulling out, leaving you shaky, gasping. your legs felt boneless, but he caught you easily, hands under your thighs as he carried you the short distance to the bed, dropping you gently into the soft mess of white linens.

"on your back," he muttered, voice hoarse, already yanking his shirt over his head. "wanna see you when i ruin you."

you obeyed, cheeks flushed, body buzzing with anticipation. your dress was halfway off before he was even done kicking out of his jeans. he dragged it the rest of the way down your body, slow and possessive, like unwrapping something that belonged only to him. the linger was next. the pretty pink set that you had seen in the window today, the one you took a double take at. the set that chris had dragged you to go buy. he tugged down the panties, damp, ruined, peeled down your thighs with reverence and hunger. 

he unclasped your bra, tossing it to the side like it was nothing. 

chris looked down at you, bare and flushed and waiting for him, and something in his expression shifted. hunger darkening into pure, unfiltered need.

"fuck," he rasped, crawling over you, nudging your legs open with his knees. "you’re so perfect. always have been."

he didn’t give you time to respond. he grabbed your hands, pinned them above your head with one of his, the other wrapping around his cock, guiding it back to your entrance. he pushed in slow, but deep, until he was fully seated inside you. your back arched, lips parting in a silent cry.

“look at me,” he growled, pulling out halfway before slamming back in hard, rough, relentless. “you take me so fuckin’ good. every damn time.”

your fingers twisted in the sheets, legs wrapping tight around his waist. he wasn’t holding back now, hips snapping into yours with urgency, sweat slicking his chest, his forehead pressed to yours as he held your hips. 

“fuck, baby, you feel that?” he grunted, his rhythm punishing, intense. “this is mine. you’re mine.”

“yes,” you gasped, nails raking down his back. “all yours. i’m- i’m yours, chris.”

he cursed low under his breath, thrusts growing sloppy, desperate. his hand slipped between your bodies, thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit, pulling broken moans from your throat.

“cum for me,” he whispered, voice almost sweet now, even as he fucked you through it. “wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.”

and you did. your body seizing around him, pleasure crashing over you like a wave. you cried out his name, legs trembling, heart stuttering. and when you came, chris followed. burying himself deep, hips jerking as he spilled into you with a groan so raw and shaky it made your chest ache.

he collapsed against you, breathing heavy, lips pressed to your temple.

"i love you," he whispered, breath hot and tender. "every version of you. every day. forever."

and you knew. no matter how many countries, or cities you saw, how many beds you shared. this was it. this was home. 

he stayed inside you for a moment, chest rising and falling against yours, like he didn’t want to let go. not yet. your fingers threaded lazily through his damp curls, both of you quiet, wrapped up in the kind of peace that only came after everything had been said without needing words.

eventually, he pulled out with a soft hiss, pressing one last kiss to your collarbone before slipping out of bed just long enough to grab a towel from the bathroom. he cleaned you up with the gentlest touch, murmuring sweet nothings under his breath the whole time, like you were something sacred. fragile and holy and entirely his.

when he climbed back into bed, he pulled you close, tucking you against his chest, your bare legs tangled under the sheets. outside, the city still glittered, cars and lights and life continuing below your hotel window, but up here, in the silence of your hotel room, tangled in the fluffy sheets, it was quiet. warm. safe.

he glanced down at your hand, at the ring he’d slipped onto your finger a year ago in the middle of a snowy field back in boston. he kissed it, slow and deliberate.

“next time we’re here,” he murmured, “you’ll be my wife.”

you smiled into his chest, heart soft and full. “i already feel like i am.”

he tilted your chin up with one knuckle and kissed you again. this time slow, deep, and aching with everything he didn’t have the words for.

“just wait ‘til i take you on our honeymoon,” he whispered, eyes shining. “you think this was spoiling you?” 

you laughed, curling into him even closer, your hand resting over his heart. “can we come here for our honeymoon? not even just milan, but all over europe?” 

he nodded, kissing your forehead. “rome. and venice. and we can go see the colosseum, and the trevi fountain. and we can go see the vatican.”

he rambles on for another ten minutes about everywhere hes gonna take you, and everything he’ll but you. and as sleep pulled you under, lulled by his warmth and the distant hum of milan below, you knew, that wherever life took you, whatever cities lit up your future, chris would be there. spoiling you. holding you. loving you.

forever.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

aurora's notes: this has been sitting in the drafts since january lol

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

[neoheros]

to this day, there are only three things in this world that kuroo tetsuro is deathly afraid of: big spiders, losing the winning point in a finals match, and worse of all, his mean and evil older sister (as he likes to call her).

now, normally, his sister doesn’t scare him at all.

normally, she’d just annoy him so much that he’d just rather pretend she doesn’t exist, and normally, seeing her at the family dinner tonight wouldn’t be so nerve wracking and horrific.

but normally, you wouldn’t have your arm in a bright pink cast, your left hand all the way up to your forearm covered in a hardened plaster.

and kuroo just knows — he knows so well — that it’ll take his sister one look at your injured hand and then he’d be a total goner.

talk about a dead man walking.

there’s a sound of a “clink” made as a plate is set in front of you.

your morning laziness as you lay contently on the couch interrupted as kuroo stands in front of the TV, arms at his hip and a wide, proud smile, donned on his face.

you blink, looking up at him and then down at the dish he set on the table.

you look warily at the plate of seemingly black and gray pancakes (?) in front of you. a small stack of the most ominous looking breakfast you’ve ever seen.

you glance up at kuroo again, still smiling proudly in front of you as he gestures to the dish.

“oh… uhm…” you feel the sweat forming on your temples, “thank you?”

were you supposed to eat this?

kuroo gives you a wider smile at your response, and he pushes the plate closer to you, prompting you to take a bite.

you can’t help the way he looks at you, all proud and happy at his accomplishment of making something that mildly resembles food, and you almost feel bad for feeling anything else but gratitude that he took the time to make you breakfast.

still though … are pancakes supposed to be gray? plus, you don’t really remember seeing any flour or baking powder in the kitchen the last time you checked… and would it really be a good idea to risk eating the world’s scariest pastry right now before the family dinner tonight?

… you pick up the fork slowly with your good hand, cursing under your breath as you recall the series of events that got you in this situation in the first place.

see, two days ago, you got into an unfortunate car accident with kuroo — something about a late night drive for ice cream and an unsuspecting duck who wasn’t taught to look both ways crossing the road.

lucky for all of you though, everyone made it out of the accident just fine — duck included — and the only real injuries sustained were a couple bruises and scratches here and there, save for the minor hairline fracture on your left arm, but it still isn’t anything too serious to fret about.

truthfully, it was the best outcome in a horrible situation, and if the worse thing you can get from an accident is a bright pink cast on for three weeks, then you’ll happily take it.

… but kuroo’s cooking?

“ehem.” he coughs, bringing you back to the predicament you find yourself in.

he’s still staring at you with that expectant smile of his, waiting for you to take a bite of his hard work.

hesitantly, you touch the fork to the pancake and you shudder as it bubbles slightly, a wheezing sound coming from it as you let the fork sink in.

no freaking way. you already almost broke your arm for pete’s sake, you’re not getting food poisoning too!

“it looks really good…” you look at him with a forced smile, “but you know the doctor said i can’t have any of … whatever this is…”

you try your best to sound as miserable as you intend to.

kuroo’s hand falls from his hip, “are you serious?”

your smile is more apologetic now, “such a shame…”

“i made this!” he exclaims, scoffing as he points to his mysterious plate of mystery, “with ingredients and shit! … for you!”

you shake your head at him wantonly, like it can’t be helped, and you thank the stars in the sky when he sighs and pushes the plate of doom away from you.

kuroo gives you a pouty look now, shoulders falling dramatically as he crashes on the empty spot on the couch, and with the TV still going on in the background, you happily welcome him in to your lazy posture, making space as he cozies up next to you.

once he settles, he turns to you, a lot less pouty now that you’re so close to him, and he says, “how’s the arm?”

“itchy.” you shrug, “but it doesn’t hurt anymore, so it’s okay.”

for a moment, there’s a flicker in the way kuroo looks that almost bothers you. eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed into a thin line, eyes sunken and worried.

its the exact same look you’ve woken up to in the past two days in the middle of the night. just suddenly jolting awake and seeing kuroo stare at you so intently. you ask him what he’s doing up and he says something about a nightmare and you kiss him goodnight and the two of you fall back asleep together with his hold on you just a little bit tighter than before.

you bump your shoulder with his, nudging him as you shake your head, “don’t look like that, i can’t have you crying on me again.”

and he scoffs, turning away, “i have never cried. i don’t cry at all. i deny all such accusations.”

(you know though that that’s a lie.

kuroo’s probably cried more in the past two days than he has all his life.

he was a teary mess as he rode with you on the ambulance to the hospital, a teary mess when the doctor said you had a fracture in your arm, and a teary mess this morning when he woke up to you in your cast).

to be honest, these past two days are probably the worst in his life. in such a short amount of time, he’s experienced such pits in his stomach that he didn’t know was possible to feel.

he still feels it sometimes when he closes his eyes, the fear and worry setting in his body as he waited in the hospital waiting room.

kuroo looks at you much softer now, gentler, and he puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. “you sure you don’t need me to go with you today?”

“i’ll be fine on my own, i just need to grab a couple of things from campus,” you shake your head as you answer him, and you move in deeper to his side to bring you closer.

even the way he touches you now is lighter — like he’s deathly afraid to hurt you even more.

you turn to look at him, “but it might make me late to the dinner with your family later, maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“that’s okay,” he nods at you, and then he sighs again, as if suddenly remembering something important.

“well,” and there’s a helpless smile on his face, “it’ll give me more time to work on my “why you’re in a cast” story to my family.”

you grin, “yeah? what have you got so far?”

and he tells you, with a hint of a clipped laugh in his voice, “really big bees.”

…. “oh.”

“yeah.” kuroo grumbles, and he sinks deeper into the couch, “they’re gonna kill me.”

he turns slightly to face you, and he points, quite dramatically, “you’re gonna be a widow.”

you push him off, shaking your head in amusement as you watch his dramatization play out, “you’re such a drama queen.”

kuroo shakes his head incessantly, and he clutches his chest with both his hands, “oh, trust me, the first words my sister is gonna say to me when she sees you later in that cast is “how could you let this happen?!” followed by “waiter, may i please have a bigger knife – this one doesn’t seem to pierce my brother all the way.” and then i die.”

you look at him, incredulous, and you shove him away as you get off the couch to stride away from him.

you scoff, loudly, “has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

and kuroo nods his head, following you as he stands up too, “you did — in our vows.”

you laugh, and you push him away again when he tries to get closer to you, “so i got it right then.”

he’s less tense now, less pouty, and seemingly out of things to complain about, and in the morning silence, he pulls you in, the two of you standing in the middle of the living room floor.

kuroo touches your injured arm slightly. the tv forgotten behind him.

all his life, he’s only ever been afraid of three things: big spiders, losing the winning point in a finals match, and his evil, mean older sister yelling at him for allowing you to get hurt after she made him promise that he’d never let anything bad happen to you.

he knows now though that beyond those three, there’s something deeper in his bones that terrifies him deeply. something that scares him so much it wakes him up in the middle of the night in cold sweat. something that ruins his day and something that makes him call you out of nowhere when you’re away from him.

his biggest fear, bigger than spiders or losing matches or his mean sister, is … you.

he’s looking at you that same way again; eyes worried, lips pursed, eyebrows knit together, and you don’t miss the way his mouth trembles slightly as he stares.

“it isn’t your fault, and i dont blame you at all.” you say, and even now as he holds you, you still feel how scared he is to hurt you.

you squeeze his hand. “accidents happen.”

and you can say this all you want, but in his head, at the end of the day, he was still the one driving the car.

but he knows you, and he knows you won’t allow him to think that way, so instead, he just nods, short and clipped and he pulls you in as gentle as he can, embracing you tightly.

kuroo mutters against your neck, “my sister is still gonna kill me.”

you laugh, patting his back with your good arm, “oh, well, some things can’t be helped.”

lord help him for what you’ve done to his poor heart, for you’ve made him deathly afraid of the one thing he can’t control.

something so out of his hands that it sets deep within his bones, ruins his day, and wakes him up in cold sweat in the middle of the night, leaving him desperate and exhausted staring at you helplessly.

his worst fear that terrifies him daily … waking up without you.

[p1nkprincess444]

FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH - EURONYMOUS; LORDS OF CHAOS

(୨୧ not proof read ୨୧ )

female!reader x oystein aarseth

word count: 1,526

contents: 18+

mentions: @fallout-girl219

He had promised you “ just the tip. ” He swore he wouldn’t fuck you, but he just wanted to feel you, but somehow you ended up with your face pushed into the cushions of the couch with cock slamming into your cervix. 

It had all started so innocently. Øystein asked you over to come watch a movie at his place. You looked through his extensive collection of horror movies before landing on Friday the Thirteenth. You wandered into his kitchen heating up some popcorn while he queued up the movie. 

Once the movie was ready Øystein crept into the kitchen sneaking up behind you. His hands gripped your hips, suddenly making you jump followed by his lips attacking your neck earning giggles to fall from your lips.

“ Quit it- I’m making popcorn.. Quit! ” My serious tone was overshadowed by my giggles before he pulled away. 

You rolled your eyes before pulling the popcorn off the stove and pouring it into a large bowl. You made your way into his small-ish living room where you joined him on the couch. You handed him the popcorn before tossing a blanket over your laps. Your head rested on his shoulder while the movie played. Øystein was never one for intimate gestures, but with you he’d let you do anything. As the movie progressed you both moved to more comfortable positions on the couch, Øystein being behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist as you watched the gorey scene on the tv play out in front of you. His hands began to wander as his lips pressed into your neck.

“ Quit- mm’ trying to watch. ”

“ Just keep watching princess.. ”

His hands slid under your shirt before they slipped under your bra as well. His hands groped at your breasts while his teeth nipped at your neck. You tried desperately to stay focused until you felt something poking your ass. 

“ Øystein stop it- I just wanted to watch the movie, and now you’re poking me, ” my tone was laced with annoyance as I sat up pausing the movie. 

He rolled his eyes in response as he sat up as well. “ You never seemed to care all those times when we were drunk. ” Your expression changed from annoyance to anger before you smacked his arm roughly. Your reaction only made him laugh as his hands wandered back under your shirt. “ Just one more time baby, c’mon just the tip.. ”

Your resolve slowly gave away before you looked into his shiny blue eyes, “ just the tip? You promise? ”

Øystein nodded as he began sliding off your shirt. You got comfortable on the couch once more as he kicked off his jeans and boxers before pulling down your shorts. He slowly pushed the tip of his cock into your cunt. His fingers dug into your hips as he eased in and out of you. His hips snapped forward, suddenly sinking all the way into your cunt. The sudden thrust made a loud moan fall from your lips.

“ I told you just the tip, ” I smacked Øystein's arm as I tried to push him away. 

“ Mm’ sorry baby she’s pulling me in. ” He slowly rocked his hips back n’ forth as he pressed kisses against your shoulder and neck. “ C’mon just one more time- please.. I’m already inside jus’ let me finish. ”

You could never say no to him when he was being sweet and sappy like this. He knew it just as well as you did, he looked up at you with those big blue eyes silently begging you to let him. 

“ Fine.. ”

As soon as he got the okay he had you pinned under him with your face pushed into the couch cushions. His hips slammed into yours as his fingers dug into the plush skin of your hips. He mumbled degrading words while his hands pulled your hips back making sure he was hitting as deep as he possibly could. Loud moans were falling from your lips as his hips snapped forward into yours. One of his hands moved from your hips to your hair yanking you up before it quickly wrapped around your waist. His teeth sunk into your neck and his thrusts never stuttered even as you screamed. He replaced his bite with gentle kisses as his hips bucked up with a new found desperation. His thrusts were brutal as he held you close to him. He could feel you tightening around him, he knew you were just as close as he was. 

“ You want it inside, baby? ”

You nodded in response your mind too fucked out to form a sentence. His teeth sunk into the soft skin on your shoulder blade sending you over the edge making you cum around his cock. Soon after, his cum shot deep inside you earning a small moan to slip past your lips. 

He laid you on the couch pressing gentle kisses down your body. He pulled apart your thighs before greedily lapping at your folds.

“ Hey- quit, ” I whined as I tried to push his head away.

“ S’Alright baby mm’ just cleaning you up, ” his voice was sweet and sultry as he slowed his pace while his hands held your thighs apart. 

His fingers dug into the plush skin of your thighs when your legs tried to clamp down on his head. A smirk spread across his face before his fingers moved to roll small circles onto your clit. Your hips bucked up against his face as his tongue lapped at your folds. 

“ You’re so fucking greedy, ya know that? ”

A whine tumbled from your lips before you shoved his head back down. His tongue lazily lapped at your folds while your hips pushed up to meet his movements. He watched as your head fell back into the arm of the couch as moans fell from your lips before he pushed two of his cold calloused fingers inside you. His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot effortlessly every time. His tongue continued to lap at your dripping folds bringing you closer to your inevitable high. He could feel you growing closer and closer as his tongue and fingers moved in tandem until your juices were coating his face and fingers. Øystein sat up wiping off his hands and face as he smirked down at you. 

“ Want to try for one more, baby, ” the head of his cock was dripping with pre-cum as he rubbed it up and down your slit. He could sense your hesitation as he stared into your eyes. “ C’mon I’ll make it so good for you. ”

A wide grin plastered across his face once you agreed. He wasted no time before ramming his cock into you. He tried to keep his thrusts slow and deep as he pressed sloppy open mouth kisses against the crook of your neck but he couldn’t help himself. His hips began to pound into yours the sound of skin slapping together filled the room. As his hips slammed into yours he whispered filthy things against your neck. He could feel himself getting close but he was more than desperate to make you finish first. He pulls his cock from you suddenly, making you whine in annoyance. His arms hooked under your legs before hoisting them up onto his shoulders, his cock rubbed teasingly against your entrance as you begged for him to just fuck you. Your hips rolled forward desperate to feel more of him as he teased your dripping cunt.

“ Do you want me to quit now, ” his tone was teasing as he slid the head of his cock in and out of you slowly. You shook your head in response, making him smile. “ C’mon use your words baby. ”

“ Please- Please Øystein. ”

Without warning he rammed his cock into your entrance with full force making it slam against your cervix. His fingers dug into your legs as he kept them firmly placed on his shoulders while he plowed into you. He leaned down his lips smashing against yours as he thrusts himself deeper into you. His tongue darted out to tangle with yours as groans fell from his lips. He’s close to his release now, but he wants to make sure you get there first. He started to move faster making your moans turn into screams as he pushed deeper and deeper until he felt your cunt clenching around him as you came your moans muffled by his lips. With a few more deep thrusts he buries himself to  hilt inside you and lets out a deep groan as he came filling you completely with his seed. 

He gently pulled your legs off his shoulders placing a soft kiss to your lips before sitting up and grabbing a box of tissues. He cleaned both of you off making sure to be gentle with your sensitive cunt. He lifted you from the couch before laying you on top of him. He covered you both with a blanket before he grabbed the television remote. 

“ You wanna watch your movie now sweetheart? ”

You nodded in response but not even ten minutes later you were passed out with your face buried against his neck.

[rosecoloredsunshine]

wired interview — evan peters

masterlist

PAIRINGS: evan peters x female!reader

SUMMARY: you and evan had been invited to wired to answer some of the web's most googled questions.

REMINDERS: please be reminded that this is a work of fiction. meaning that all events and occurrences in this story are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. any resemblance to actual life events and people, living or dead, are all purely coincidence.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, background info for reader had been provided, established relationship, fluff, google translated french, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i just have the need to post this one lol hope you'll enjoy this one! :)

The studio lights were bright, but you were used to it by now. The WIRED setup was familiar—crisp white background, black chairs, and the infamous search board waiting to reveal the internet’s most pressing, bizzare, and occasionally ridiculous curiosities. You glanced at Evan beside you, who was shifting excitedly in his chair. He shot you a smile, eyes crinkling the way they always did when he was genuinely happy.

“Ready to expose our deepest, darkest secrets?” he teased.

“Oh, absolutely. I came prepared to be utterly humiliated,” you quipped, adjusting in your seat.

The crew had given you and evan a thumbs-up, cameras now already rolling, and the crew’s voice drifted from off-screen.

“Alright, we’ll start with Evan reading questions about you, then we’ll switch.” The crew had instructed.

“Got it,” Evan said, rubbing his hands together dramatically. “This is gonna be good.”

Another crew handed Evan the board, the classic white rectangle with strips of paper concealing the questions.

He lifted it with a flourish. “Okay, question one! How old are you?” he peeled away the first strip, and looked at you, eyebrow raised before smirking. “Well, let’s hear it.”

“Timeless,” you replied smoothly, leaning back with a smug smile.

Evan snorted. “Yeah, yeah, immortal, ageless, basically a vampire. Noted.”

“Pretty much.”

He moved to the next strip. “Where—” he paused, “where are you from?”

“I was born and raised in Monaco, but I moved to Boston when I was six.”

Evan glanced at you, mock-impressed. “Ooh, fancy.”

“Oh, incredibly fancy,” you joked. “I had the whole Grace Kelly aesthetic going on. Swans, palace gardens, and maybe even a tiara.”

He let out a soft laugh before ripping off the next strip. “How tall are you? Oh, I know this one. You’re like, five-foot-two, right?”

“Haha,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes, feigning annoyance. “I am five-seven, thank you very much.”

“Really?” he deadpanned, leaning closer with wide eyes. “Because I could've sworn—”

“Keep making fun of my height and I’ll hide all your sneakers before our next press event.”

“Threats already? We’re only three questions in!” he grinned and moved on. “How many languages do you speak?”

“Three,” you said as you put up three fingers. “English, French, and Italian.”

“Show off,” he teased.

“Tu as de très beaux yeux,” your voice was soft, the French rolling off your tongue smoothly as you leaned closer to him.

Evan flushed, laughing nervously. “I have no idea what you just said, but I feel both flattered and mildly threatened.”

“Good,” you laughed softly. “I just said that you have very beautiful eyes.”

“Oh,” he said, cheeks turning beet red. “Yeah, I mean—thanks.”

You watched him flounder, smiling widely and thoroughly amused at the same time.

Evan then ripped off the next strip. “Okay, next up. What is your favorite song?”

You hummed thoughtfully. “If we’re talking about my current favorite, it’s probably ‘You’re So Vain’ by the one and only, Carly Simon.” you couldn't resist breaking into a song. “You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you…”

Evan decided to join in, voice terrible but enthusiastic. “Don’t you? Don’t you?”

You both dissolved into laughter, with the crew chuckling behind the cameras.

“Alright, next one,” Evan said, wiping a tear from his eye. He tore off another strip, then burst out laughing. “Oh, wow. The internet’s bold, huh. Are we dating?”

You grinned, leaning back with folded arms. “I’ll let you handle that one.”

Evan’s cheeks turned pink, but he rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, considering we’ve been promoting our rom-com movie together for months, I think it’s safe to say that the internet’s just invested.”

He looked at you, expression softening. “But, I mean, if they’re asking if we’re, like, officially together? I dunno. Should we make it a mystery? Keep the suspense alive?”

You laughed. “And keep the tabloids working overtime? Oh absolutely.”

Evan shook his head with amusement, moving on. “What is your zodiac sign?”

“(your sign),” you answered quickly. “Which basically means I’m emotional, imaginative, and probably crying over dog videos when I should be doing something important.”

“That tracks,” Evan said with a grin. “I’ve definitely caught you sniffly-eyed over a random cat rescue video more than once.”

“They’re heroic little guys!” you defended, crossing your arms.

“Alright, next question…” Evan trailed off as he peeled another strip. “Do you actually like Evan Peters or are you just pretending for the movie?”

You scoffed, overplaying your offense. “Oh, I can’t stand him guys. The absolute worst. Have you heard his laugh?”

He cracked up immediately, laughing loudly and uninhabited. “Oh, well played.”

You giggled softly. “But in all seriousness, he’s alright. Decent co-star. I guess I’d recommend him if anyone’s hiring.”

“Wow, heartwarming, truly.” Evan shook his head, still grinning. “Alright, switching boards now. Ready to be roasted?”

“Oh, born ready,” you challenged.

The crew handed you the board of Evan-related questions, and you eyed him, smiling mischievously.

“Okay, first question,” you peeled the paper away. “How old is Evan Peters?”

He gave you a side-eye. “Considering you’re timeless, I should be, like, ancient, right?”

“You’re practically a fossil,” you teased. “But if I recall, you’re…thirty-eight?”

“Ding ding ding!” he cheered, pretending to throw confetti in the air. “Next!”

You tore off another strip. “Where is Evan Peters from?”

“St. Louis, Missouri. You know, the land of gooey butter cake and toasted ravioli?”

Evan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you remembered the ravioli thing!”

“Yeah, mostly because you wouldn't shut up about it when we first met.”

He chuckled. “It’s that good.”

The questions kept coming, ranging from silly ones like ‘what is Evan Peters’ shoe size?’ which you guessed wrong, of course, much to his delight—to downright absurd ones like ‘does Evan Peters own a raccoon?’

“I don’t!” Evan said, looking genuinely confused. “Why would anyone—”

“I mean, I can see the vision,” you countered, barely holding back your laughter. “Naming it bandit, dressing it in a tiny leather jacket.”

Evan pretended to consider it. “Actually, that sounds incredible.”

“Great! Now, someone’s going to gift you a cute raccoon during our promotion, or comic con.”

“Oh god,” he groaned, but still smiling.

The entire shoot was chaos and laughter, with both of you going off-track multiple times. By the end of the filming, your cheeks are hurting from grinning so much.

“Alright, that’s a wrap!” one of the crew members called, but the camera’s were still rolling.

Evan turned to you, eyes shining. “We should do this kind of stuff more often.”

“Yeah! It’s a really fun experience,” you smiled at him softly, and put up your hand for a high-five. “Put it there, partner!”

When his palm met yours, he caught your fingers, intertwining them with his own, and tugged your chair closer to his.

“C’mere,” he whispered, voice soft as he pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to your temple.

You turned to look at the camera, smiling, and Evan sent a playfully wink.

© rosecoloredsunshine, 2025

[booklqvr]

summary : in which jess works up the courage to ask you out. (and you thought he hated you.)

- fluff

- she / her pronouns

- not proofread

jess hated stars hallow. it’s just so boring! everything is just in one place, it takes you literally five minutes to get anywhere. where in new york, you had to take the subway everywhere, because everything was too far. it may seem practical to like stars hallow more, but jess was not practical at all.

he preferred taking the subway everywhere, it gave him more time to read and listen to music. he liked the loud noise, and the busy streets. there was nothing for him in stars hallow. he just hates it!

that’s until he met you.

the day you walked into the diner asking for a coffee with a bright smile, he was a goner. you were just so pretty and sweet.

he kept it cool, though. he acted like he had no interest in you at all. he might’ve played it too good, because you think he hates you. in class, you can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head. and every time you look back at him, you’re met with a glare.

if only you knew. he’d be damned if he ever told you how he feels.

“maybe you should tell her that you like her instead of staring at her like a creep.” luke’s voice breaks jess’s train of thought. he scoffs, swinging the rag he was using to wipe down the counter over his shoulder.

”i dunno what you’re talking about.” jess mumbles, glancing at you at the table in the corner. you’re sipping a cup of coffee, reading a copy of the murder of roger ackroyd. even in deep thought you look gorgeous. he would never tell you how he felt, what if you reject him?

luke roll his eyes, and turns to face jess. “oh yes, i believe that. it’s definitely not creepy to just stare at a her.” jess shakes his head and heads over to the coffee pot to make a fresh batch.

“y’know, the winter carnival is coming up.” luke spoke, grabbing empty dishes on the counter and putting them in the sink. jess pretended to ignore him, still staring at the coffee as it pours into the pot. “every year she runs the hot chocolate stand, maybe you can ask her if you can join her? help out?”

jess was ready to say some sarcastic comment, but that actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea. it’s not like you’d think he’s asking you on a date, he’s just helping out. you would probably think it’s weird that he wanted to help at the winter carnival, since it was publicly known that jess hated doing town things.

but it was worth a try.

you felt a presence as you read your book. the book was so good that you did not want to stop reading, so you ignore it, hoping the person went away. it seems rude, but it usually works. the sound of a throat clearing makes you sigh.

i guess i should answer.

you look up, and see jess mariano. the boy who’s always glaring at you in class. you don’t know what you did to make him hate you, so you never tried to speak to him. it wasn’t worth your time.

“uh, hey.” he says, looking down at you. you wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. it’s like he’s expecting you to say something before he finishes.

“hi.” you say, giving him a tight smile. you’re trying to be as welcoming as you can, but it’s hard to be nice to someone who hates you. jess swore his stomach did a flip when you smiled at him. such a pretty smile. the smile made his whole day.

he clears his throat again, running a hand over his jaw. how is he supposed to do this? “so, uh, the winter carnival is this weekend.” he speaks, his finger’s fiddling with the end of his shirt.

this time, you don’t say anything. you want him to finish, so you just nod your head, raising an eyebrow. “and i uh, hear you run the hot chocolate stand. i’d love to help out.” that made you stop, he’d like to help out? but he hated town events. and why is he so nervous?

“you would like to help out?” you question, setting your book down on the small table in front of you. “why?”

jess lets out a breath. he knew it. he knew that you would question him. “because i really like you.” he blurts out. “and i would like to help you, because i want it to be a date.”

a date? he wants to go on a date with me?

and then it all became clear. he wasn’t constantly glaring at you. he was admiring you. you just took it the wrong way. jess mariano has a crush on you. “uh, sure.” you answer, a small smile creeping up onto your face. “i’d like that.”

his heart grew at least ten times bigger when he heard yes, he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. it’s the first time you ever seen him smile.

“great.” he breathed out, running his hand through his hair. “so, i’ll meet you there? at seven?”

“at seven.” you confirm, picking up your book again. jess nodded, heading back to behind the counter. luke grins, pouring a customer a cup of coffee. “told you.” luke says through a laugh.

“shut up.”

[konigslittleliebling]

Thinking about adult Sandor settled down with a wife and children and she gifts him a toy reminiscent of the one he played with as a kid and got burnt for, just to heal something in him :(

(and maybe his son taking it to play with it and instead of Sandor subjecting him to the torture he went through he just watches him play, realizing he's better than his brother or father :))

ahhh, my dearest ellie! it’s been so long since you last sent me something !! and i love this sm 🥹 i need more reqs like this 🫂

table of contents; no warnings, just tooth-rotting cuteness and very mild implications of ptsd

he groans when his back finally hits the settee’s cushioning, head thudding against it as he stretches and reclines. “stew was nice,” he tells you, motioning for you to join him. “thanks, sweetheart.”

you hum and plonk yourself beside him, curling into his side. he turns his face to plant a chaste kiss to your temple, then rolls his head to rest against yours. “how was your day, sandor? i didn’t get chance to ask at dinner.”

he chuckles, deep and raspy. “didn’t get a fuckin’ word in with our little critters natterin’ on,” you both share a heartfelt laugh. “they were just excited to see their dad.” you say.

“my day was like the rest of ‘em.”

“shite?” you presume, rubbing a hand over his stomach.

“aye,” his fingers drum against your hip, sometimes sliding to caress your thigh or squeeze your waist. “didn’t get bollocked today, though.”

“well, there is that.” you look up at him, pouting for a kiss.

he smirks and leans down to press his mouth to yours, his stubble scratching at your nose and chin. “small wins, or whatever the fuck they say.”

you grin against his lips. “indeed, love.”

his fingers start to creep beneath your clothing, sneaking toward your naval. you pull your face back just as his tongue sneaks past his lips to taste yours, and reach for a little box you’d hidden on the side.

you hear him huff out, then his features adopt an expression of confusion. “s’all this?”

“got you something.” you sit up and clasp it behind your back. “close your eyes.”

“oh, just give it here, woman.”

you smack him on the arm. “no, you big grump! close your eyes.”

he stares you down for a second, but then you give him that look and he yields, eyes lidding to an uneager close.

“okay, now hold your hands out like this.” you cup your hands at your front, the box held within them.

he purses his lips. “can’t fuckin’ see, can i?”

“oh, right.” you drop the box into your lap and grab his hands, lifting them between you. “keep them like that.”

his thick fingers wriggle impatiently and you giggle, placing the box into his hands. “alright, open.”

“my eyes or the box?”

“your eyes! and how do you know it’s a box?” you whine, disappointed.

“well, it’s not a fuckin’ kitten, is it?”

you sigh, sitting up on your knees so you can watch him a little better. “fine, just open it.”

he glances at you, amused, then unlatches the gold clasp that fastens it shut and lifts the lid. his hands halt, brown eyes fixed to what’s tucked inside. he falters, then looks to you. “the fuck’s this?”

you smile nervously and ball your hands in your skirts. “take it out, have a proper look.”

he holds your gaze for a moment, then plucks the contents between two digits and holds it up to the candlelight.

a wooden knight, hand-carved and painted with meticulous care. you can see each shave and engraving from the woodworker’s blade, each stroke from his brush. more attention to detail has been put into this little knight’s armour than that of the kingsguard. he wields a longsword, polished to the impressive finish of what a whetstone can only dream to achieve; and he mounts a black warhorse — resembling sandor’s own stallion.

he turns it in his palms, expression unreadable. you raise a hand to scrape the hair from his face, fingertips grazing the waxy bumps of his scar. “you didn’t deserve what he did to you, my love.”

you feel him relax into your touch, eyes still marvelling the thing of beauty in his hands. he can’t quite believe it.

“what do you think?” you ask him, combing your fingers through his hair, nails massaging his scalp.

“i’m thinkin’ that’s not the only thing i don’t deserve,” he finally meets your eyes again, swelling with love and astonishment. “how the fuck did i land a woman like you?”

joyous tears start to distort your vision and you take his face in your hands. “because believe it or not, sandor clegane, you’re deserving of happiness. you deserve to be treated right and be well looked-after. you deserve to be loved.” you lean forward to peck a kiss to the scarred half of his forehead. “and you deserve to play with a fucking wooden knight.”

he laughs, hearty and toothily and real. crow’s feet stamp at the outer creases of his eyes and it’s a scarce sight — seeing him so genuinely happy. he’s only like this at home, and seldomly even then. that’s something you’ve practically had to train into him; help him learn that he’s allowed to feel happiness despite everything else.

“mum? dad?”

you both look to the stairwell where the eldest of your three pups stands, still half-asleep with bed-hair and pillow marks on his rosy cheeks.

you tilt your head before regarding him sweetly. “did we wake you, little one?”

he nods sleepily, rubbing his fists against his eyes. “can dad read me that book i like? and do the funny voices, too? with the shadow puppets?”

you smile, your heart-swelling, and look at your husband who can’t shake the shit-eating grin on his face.

“how ‘bout i tell you a story of a knight,” sandor begins, waving your son over. the boy pads across the room and lets out a yawn as he clambers onto his father’s knee. “he looked somethin’ like this.”

your boy’s eyes widen and he gasps, snatching the toy from sandor’s hand. “woah, he’s so cool!”

you settle into the cushions and watch on, resting your chin in your hand.

“but not as cool as you.” your son adds and you melt, not sure of how you got so lucky to be blessed with such a family.

“nah, he’s far cooler than me.” sandor chuckles, pointing at the knight’s colourful cloak and jewel-embedded armour.

[silentstyx]

"I Have a Bad Feeling About This"

sum! (HC) how the boys would react seeing their s/o in a star wars shirt

tw! nerds

ok so this is based off the fact i was wearin a star wars shirt today (same one as in the picture) n did think abt them n how absolutley FERAL they would go. btw yall r fake why r their like no ethan fanfics, finest in the show n everyone writes/reqs benny...

ETHAN:

-absolutely feral.

-remember that scene in aladdin where genie's eyes pop out and tongue is on the ground? HIM. HIM WALKING IN SCHOOL TO SEE THAT.

-will literally stare at you like a deer in headlights.

-telling him that you've seen all the star wars movies...

-now that he knows this he's going to invite you (force you... lmao im so funny) to go to the star wars marathons ethan, benny, and rory have.

-if you go js know they know every line to every movie.

-he went up to you when he saw the shirt and said "i have a bad feeling about this..."

-will make star wars puns with you, don't laugh. it will encourage it.

BENNY:

-also goes feral

-but instead he giggles when he sees the shirt.

-will tell you to say 5 characters (not darth vader, luke, han solo, or princess leia) so he knows you're not just wearing it as a fashion trend.

-will go up to you and have 5 star wars puns already thought of.

-he's going to argue with you over the best movie, character, etc.

-he brought you a lego set millennium falcon for may 4th.

-he tells you your the leia organa to his han solo. (hold on im tearing up)

-if you guys get in a fight he takes away your jedi honor

RORY:

-remember that scene where he like descends into the air in "Three Cheers for Evil"? yeah thats him

-i lwk hc him as somewhat autistic and star wars/trek is one of his main hyperfixations so i think he like rants to you about it.

-like he can go hours talking about it if you let him.

-couples costumes, he wants to be luke and yoda.

-he will buy you both the plastic lightsabers os you can have lightsaber fights

-will cause a fight if you say "dark vader" or "lightsaver" or just pronounce anything wrong

-he will get a matching star wars shirt with you, will also buy you matching socks... and jacket/hoodie/sweatshirt/etc.

-definitely makes you watch star trek because its "just as good"??

[r0rysreid]

wally clark who keeps an extra hoodie in his locker for you, knowing you’ll steal it at some point later in the day.

wally clark who heard what flavor of chapstick you like and started wearing it so you tasted it every time you kissed him.

wally clark who runs to you after games and scoops you into his arms, pampering you with kisses and refusing to let you go.

wally clark who brags to all his buddies about you, saying “you wish you had someone as awesome as them”.

wally clark who shows you off every chance he gets, having you perched on his lap like a precious gem, lazy kisses to your shoulder while you talk.

wally clark who always has to have his hand on one part of your body. your hand, thigh, back, shoulder.

wally clark who buys you a necklace with his initial on it, always staring at it when you’re with him, adorning how the little “W” say so perfectly on your collarbones.

wally clark who’s always searching for you in the hallways between classes, inevitably meeting you and your locker and greeting you with a kiss while mumbling how he missed you.

[heda-in-the-clouds]

Is your yoga!Lexa the one with fish the dog? I looove the visuals 😍

🥰 Yes yoga!Lexa and surfer!Clarke adopted Fish the dog. As a treat, here's a fluffy headcanon with all three of them

------

Clarke jokes that Lexa loves Fish so damn much that he should get her last name. The sarcasm goes over Lexa's head who squeals and tells Clarke that's a great idea.

"What do you like better boy? Fish Griffin-Woods? Or Fish Woods-Griffin? Bark once for Fish Griffin-Woods and bark twice for Fish Woods-Griffin." Lexa enthusiastically asks Fish as he plays in her lap.

"Bark!" Fish happily yelps wagging his tail.

"Fish Griffin-Woods boy?" Lexa asks again to make sure.

"Bark!" Fish let out a single bark but this time, he raises one tiny paw in the air and waves it to tell his Mama yes.

"Ahhhh! It's official. You fluffy sir are now Fish Griffin-Woods!" Lexa howls with excitement as she throws Fish in the air and catches him.

"Awooooooo!" Fish joins Lexa and howls in excitement once he gets his surname. He's now officially a part of their little family.

"What's with all the noise babe?" Clarke asks as she walks into the room with her fingers plugged inside her ears to dampen the yelping and barks.

"Well, we're celebrating because Fish now has a last name. Meet Fish Griffin-Woods!" Lexa proudly declared as she held Fish in front of Clarke.

Clarke took a step back hoping to avoid another wet bath from Fish who was happily sticking his tongue out at her and whining wanting to kiss his other mama.

"Griffin-Woods?" Clarke asked.

"Yeah, he's our kid so he should get both our last names. Fish picked it himself didn't you boy?" Lexa eagerly responded as she blew raspberries in Fish's face.

"Bark bark." Fish playfully barked after hearing his name. Lexa then placed Fish on the floor and approached Clarke. She held her hands and stepped in close till they were face to face.

"Plus, I also like the sound of Griffin-Woods too. Clarke Griffin-Woods. Lexa Griffin-Woods. It has a nice ring to it." Lexa softly uttered as she looked lovingly into Clarke's blue eyes.

"I not only like it but I would really love a Lexa Griffin-Woods. I know she would be an amazing fiancé and wife." Clarke tearfully affirmed as she stared adoringly into her girlfriend's beautiful green eyes. Before they could seal their promise with a romantic kiss, a soft whimper was heard below them. Looking down, Fish was gently pawing at Clarke's legs as he tenderly gazed at his parents seeking their affection.

Clarke picked him up, embraced him in her arms, and faced Lexa with their fluffy puppy.

"Oh, and before I forget, Lexa Griffin-Woods would make an excellent mom too. Just look at our fluffy son, Fish Griffin-Woods." Clarke adoringly whispered before she closed the gap and tenderly kissed Lexa.

Lexa melted into Clarke's lips as her heart swelled with love and affection that Clarke promised to marry her one day and start their own family. She also sensed another organ swelling, specifically between Clarke's legs. Feeling Clarke harden ignited a desperate feeling of desire between her legs.

Lexa broke their kiss as she was suddenly engulfed in a desperate need to feel Clarke inside her, filling her, claiming her. She urged Clarke to let go of Fish who scampered off to play with his toys, clearly sensing the change of mood in the room.

"Let's practice making some babies...Clarke Griffin-Woods." Lexa seductively whispered before taking her hand and leading them away to their bedroom.

[fromrory]

𐔌 ⋮ “He gives you things, doesn’t he?”

– or, the language of devotion from a boy who was raised to conquer, not to love

It starts with the ring.

An emerald, cut sharp like a blade, set into gold with ancient Arabic filigree etched so fine it’s barely visible unless the light catches it. She finds it on her nightstand one morning—wrapped in black silk, warm as if it had been held in a palm all night.

The note is in his handwriting. Neat. Small. Precise.

“For your hand, which should always be protected.

She wears it. Of course she wears it.

She doesn’t expect the next gift—two weeks later, an anklet. golden, thin and elegant, a tiny د (the Arabic letter dāl) dangling from the chain. Damian doesn’t say anything when she finds it.

He just kneels down during a quiet hour in the Manor and clasps it around her ankle himself. His hands are steady. His touch reverent.

“I want them to know,” he says simply, eyes flicking up to hers. “Wherever you walk, you’re mine.”

She forgets how to breathe.

“Okay, but like,” Steph says later, eyes wide, “that’s not just romantic. That’s spiritual warfare.”

Jason whistles low. “Man’s out here forging rings like it’s Lord of the Rings, but hot.”

Dick smirks. “I told you. He’s an intense little poet when it comes to her.”

There are other gifts. A hair comb, made of dark wood and inlaid with jade. A carved pendant with lines from a pre-Islamic Arabic love poem, words so old they taste like desert wind and firelight.

He gives her a dagger once.

Not large. Not flashy.

But beautiful.

Etched down the spine, in Arabic script so fine it’s almost hidden, it reads:

“Whoever touches what is mine will bleed.”

She isn’t scared. Not of him.

She understands what it means—what he’s never been able to say without wrapping it in old language and older steel:

That he was raised by people who saw love as weakness. That he is fighting to unlearn that. That when he gives, it isn’t casual. It’s sacred.

They sit alone on the rooftop again.

Gotham sprawls below. The stars are faint. She’s wearing the anklet. The ring. A new necklace now—another gift, this one with a pressed green stone the color of his eyes, suspended above her collarbone like a vow.

“You’re mine,” he says softly, fingers brushing the pendant.

“Mm,” she murmurs. “Yours, huh?”

“I don’t mean that lightly,” he says. “I mean it the way temples mean prayer. The way altars mean blood.”

She smiles. “I know.”

“I would kill for you.”

“You have,” she says.

“I would die for you.”

Her hand finds his. “You don’t have to.”

Damian looks at her for a long moment. The kind of look that feels like burning incense and ancient gods and poetry that doesn’t rhyme.

Then he says, voice barely above a whisper:

“You are not mine like a thing to be owned. You are mine like breath is to lungs. Like fire is to a blade.”

She closes her eyes, heart thudding. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours too,” he says.

Tim finds the dagger a week later.

Jason reads the inscription and whistles. “This boy’s out here writing Arabic death vows.”

“Poetic menace,” Steph mutters. “I love that for her.”

Dick just grins, arms folded. “Told you. He doesn’t love. He consecrates.”

And maybe that’s what it is.

Not love like hearts and flowers and Hallmark cards.

But love like carved emeralds and sacred steel. Love like an altar. Like devotion. Like the whole world could burn—and he’d still reach through the smoke to clasp her wrist and whisper:

“rūḥī…”

i don't really what how i feel about this one .Taglist🏷️: @simpingmyassoff , @shootingstargirl2001 (if you want to be added,comment down below!)

[chrisstvrns]

⌞chris pouring pepsi on it before he eats you out⌝⸝⸝

"my pussy tastes like pepsi cola" ·˚ ༘ ꒱

now playing: cola: lana del rey

warnings: oral (f receiving), established relationship, slight overstimulation, soft dom!chris, fingering, food play (??). lmk if i missed anything

word count: 627

you were a giggly mess as chris had you layed back on his bed, clothes discarded as he settled between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. there was an open can of pepsi on his nightstand, and lana del rey playing through the speaker connected to your phone. 

“shh, sweetheart, just lemme do all the work” chris murmurs, reaching for the can

he took a slow sip, eyes locked on you like he was savoring both the taste and the view. then he tipped it forward, letting the cold stream spill from the lip of the can onto your bare stomach.

you gasped at the shock of it, your hips instinctively lifting off the bed as the pepsi trickled down your skin. syrupy, dark, and sweet. it slipped lower, down to where you were already soaked for him.

chris watched the trail with a greedy fascination, his grin crooked and full of heat. “fuck,” he muttered, leaning in, tongue darting out to lap at a drop just above your pussy. “tastes so fuckin’ good.”

he licked slow, following the sugary path, his mouth warm against your cold skin, teasing and coaxing every shiver out of you. then he paused, hovering just before his tongue dipped fully between your folds. his breath hit you first. warm, reverent, and then his voice. 

“fuck, baby,” he breathed, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “you taste better than the drink.”

you whimpered, hands tangling in the sheets as he buried his mouth between your legs, continuing to devour you. 

he reaches for the can again, pouring a little more directly on your pussy. he immediately latches his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking like a starved man. 

your thighs instinctively clamped around his head, a sharp, helpless cry escaping your lips as the icy liquid met the blazing heat of his tongue. 

chris moaned into you, the vibration shooting through your core. “fuck, you're unreal,” he rasped, the words muffled as he pulled back just far enough to speak, chin glistening. he didn’t give you time to recover, he just dove back in, tongue tracing slow circles around your clit before sucking it between his lips again, harder this time.

you arched off the bed, hands flying to his hair, gripping tight as if it would anchor you through the chaos he was unleashing. he was relentless, switching between soft flicks and deep, hungry licks, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you open for him.

“chris,” you gasped, voice breaking, “i- i can’t- ”

“yes, you can,” he murmured against you, his breath hot, sending a shiver through your body. “you’re gonna cum for me, baby. wanna feel you cum on my tongue.”

he sucked again, harder, dragging the flat of his tongue over you like he was trying to memorize every inch, every reaction. your body trembled beneath him, a mess of tension and heat. every nerve was lit up, humming, screaming his name.

he slid two fingers inside you, curling just right, just enough to send you spiraling. your legs locked around his shoulders as your orgasm hit, stars exploding behind your eyes, cries muffled by your own bitten knuckles.

chris didn’t stop, he worked you through it, tongue gentle now, coaxing every last wave from your trembling body. only when your thighs twitched and your breath came in ragged sobs did he finally pull back, lips swollen, face flushed and sticky with sugar and you.

he looked up at you with a crooked, satisfied smile. “next time,” he said, licking his lips slow, tasting the mix of pepsi and you “i’m bringing ice.” 

he takes a sip from the can, then handing it to you as you take a sip, still breathless and smiling. 

────────────୨ৎ────────────

aurora's notes: big thank u to @mattscoquette for giving me this idea

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

[aurorsworld]

aaron hotchner fics ༉‧₊˚.

A] angst/ hurt+comfort

→ too emotional by @mariasont

→ please don't prove 'em right by @mariasont

→ not fault, just love by @luveline

→ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit

→ ten's a good a number by @mrs-weasley-reid (an actual masterpiece)

HONORARY MENTION: the Lovers and the Tower by @none-of-your-bullshit (my most favourite fic on this site ever, you must read it!!)

B] fluff

→ marked territory by @mariasont

→ my boss won't be happy about this by @mariasont

→ training day by @mariasont

→ not so friendly competition by @ssahotchnerr

→ first responders by @mrs-weasley-reid

note: none of these works belong to me, all credit goes to their respective authors.

reblogs are appreciated!!!

lmk if any of the links are not working

[p1nkprincess444]

BUSY - SID JENKINS

female!reader x sid jenkins

word count: 942

contents: 18+, loss of virginity

part two

You stood in front of your locker exchanging your books from within your bags before you heard a soft thud next to you. Tony was leaning against the locker, his eyes locked on his phone as he typed out a text. 

“ Are you coming to Nips party tonight? ” 

“ No, mm’ busy tonight. ”

Tony simply just rolled his eyes and walked off, but yet not even four hours later he was completely plastered, calling your phone.

“ Where are you, I thought you were coming, ” he was barely even legible, his words slurring into the phone as music blared in the background.

“ No, I told you I have a date. ”

The phone went silent, the only indicator he was still there being the loud music.

“ You what? With who? ”

You clicked your phone shut without an answer, your date standing in front of you.

“ Hey, you alright? ”

“ Yeah Sid, let's just go get food, ” you silenced your phone shoving it in your bag.

Your fingers were intertwined with Sid's, your faces illuminated by the movie theater screen. The reflection of the movie played in Sid’s glasses, his eyes remaining on the screen, but your eyes were locked on him. You knew he was a virgin, hadn’t even kissed a girl according to Tony, but you found it endearing. He wasn’t like the other boys you had been with, he wasn’t like Tony. 

You had been staring too long and now you were being reflected back to yourself in Sid’s glasses, his eyes locked on yours. You leaned in, giving him a gentle peck on the lips, but when Sid tried to pull back his cheeks flushing red you held him there. Your fingers curled in his hair playing with the exposed hair on the nape of his neck, your tongue tangled with his. You could feel how inexperienced he was. Every movement of his lips or tongue met with a retraction unsure of how to proceed. 

You were only pulled from each other when the lights of the theater came on. Lipstick was smudged across Sid’s lips making you laugh, but you didn’t tell him why. 

Your hand remained in his as he walked you to your doorstep. 

“ Do you want to come up, my parents aren’t home. ”

Sid could practically taste the sexual innuendo from the question as it fell from your lips. He stared at you like a deer in headlights, the simple affirmation of yes getting caught in his throat. 

Your eyes were locked on him, watching as his cheeks grew red and he stood frozen, “ you don’t have to… ”

Words didn’t follow your sentence, they couldn’t, it was the only thing Sid could think of doing as his lips came down upon yours. His tongue pushing into your mouth the way yours had earlier in the night, it was as if he was trying to memorize the feeling. 

Sid’s nails were clawing at your hips that were covered only by a denim mini skirt as you sat in his lap. Your hands were tangled in his messy brown hair, his beanie discarded on your bedroom floor along with your shirt. It was all almost overwhelming to Sid but so exciting. 

Your hands moved to the zipper on his hoodie pulling it down with one tug before it joined his beanie on the floor. You stripped him of his clothing, one by one till he was laid out on your bed in just his boxers. His cock was straining against the fabric desperate to break free of its confines. You stripped down, carelessly tossing your clothes on the floor watching as Sid’s cheeks grew redder against his pale face.

You bent down, opening your purse, grabbing out the spare rubber you always kept in the side pocket before joining Sid on the bed. You tore open the plastic with your teeth before grabbing the rubber discarding the rest on the bed.

“ Can you take em’ off for me? ”

Sid hastily nodded, his fingers hooked under the elastic waistband pushing them down before kicking them. His cock was resting against his abdomen, the veins that lay visible through the skin pulsing. You slowly rolled the condom onto his cock already earning a groan from Sid. Your hands rested on his chest for support as you sunk down onto his shaft, his head was already thrown back pushing against your pillows as groans tumbled past his lips. His fingers gripped the sheets, his knuckles going white as he tried desperately not to finish too early, but his efforts were futile as you simply rolled your hips against his. A loud moan filled the room, his hips bucking into yours as he finished.

“ Shit- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- ”

I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, “ we’re not done. ”

Your hips rolled against his before you grabbed his hands moving them to grasp your breasts. Your soft moans were much quieter than all the sounds falling from Sid’s lips. His hips rutted into yours, nothing could pull you from one another till something did. 

You could hear the loud pounding from downstairs as someone banged on the door. Your brow furrowed knowing you didn’t invite anyone over and your parents weren’t coming back till Monday. You slowly slid off Sid pulling his zip up over your unclothed body struggling with the zipper as you ran down the steps insisting to whoever was pounding on the door that you were coming. 

You had just gotten the zipper up when you opened the door revealing Tony, partially standing and partially leaning on the railing that guarded the front of your porch. 

[rosecoloredsunshine]

hot ones — evan peters

masterlist

PAIRINGS: evan peters x female!reader

SUMMARY: you and evan decided to take on the hot ones spicy wings challenge.

REMINDERS: please be reminded that this is a work of fiction. meaning that all events and occurrences in this story are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. any resemblance to actual life events and people, living or dead, are all purely coincidence.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, wedding talks, established relationship, reader is an 'unofficially retired' actress, fluff attempt, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this has been written more as a self-indulgent fic lol. my requests for evan fics are open, so if you have any, just send me an ask. hope you'll enjoy this one! :)

You and Evan are inside a sleek, industrial-chic studio of Hot Ones, and sitting across from Sean Evans with a row of perfectly arranged and intimidating glazed wings between you and Evan. The set’s familiar aesthetic—black brick backdrop and neon accents, brings a grin to your face. You have seen countless celebrities get wrecked by these fiery wings. Now, it’s your turn.

“You sure you wanna do this, babe?” his eyes glinting with playful concern. “I know how you feel about spicy food.”

“I’ve survived worse,” you quipped, but your grin falters slightly when you glance at the perfectly arranged wings. “Besides, I couldn't let you have all the fun.”

“You’ve got a very loose definition of fun,” he chuckled, corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

Evan’s hand finds yours beneath the table, fingers intertwining together like second nature. Sean smiled with the kind of enthusiasm that comes from years of watching people suffer through the gauntlet, and clasped his hands together.

“Welcome to Hot Ones, the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today, we’ve got a special couple’s episode with none other than one of Hollywood’s most beloved couples!”

“Beloved,” you repeat with a laugh, leaning into Evan’s shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”

“Right?” Evan grins, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “We must be doing something right.”

You and Evan turned towards the camera, with Evan giving a little wave to the camera, while you offered a sheepish smile.

“So,” Sean continues, “before we get into the heat, I gotta ask, how did you both end up agreeing to this? I know, from what I’ve heard, you’re not exactly a fan of spicy food.”

You laughed, already feeling your nerves dissipating. “Well yeah, I’m definitely not a fan. But I thought it would be a fun experience. Plus, Evan wanted to do it, and I couldn't let him suffer alone.”

Evan chuckles, squeezing your hand gently. “She’s braver than she thinks. I’m just here to make sure she doesn't regret it halfway through.”

“That’s true love right there,” Sean grins. “Alright, let’s start with the first wing.”

You and Evan each take a wing. It’s barely spicy, just a hint of heat, and you manage it with ease, earning an approving nod from Evan.

“That’s not bad,” you say, a bit more confident. “Famous last words.”

The three of you let out a laugh. Sean glances at his cue cards. “So, let’s kick things off. You two have been together for six years and recently got engaged. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you and Evan said in unison, making Sean laugh.

“Was the proposal a surprise?” Sean asked.

You glanced at Evan, a fond smile appearing on your lips. “Completely. We were on a trip to Japan for my birthday, and I thought that it was just a celebration for that occasion, but it turns out that Evan had this whole plan. I was completely caught off guard.”

Evan grins, remembering the memory. “She kept saying, ‘are you serious?’ like five times before actually saying yes.”

You nudged him lightly, laughing. “It was just a lot to process! I wasn't really expecting it.”

Sean leans forward, intrigued. “Was it nerve-wracking, Evan?”

“Oh absolutely,” Evan admits. “I was more nervous than when I go on set. But when she smiled, I knew that it was the right moment, and she did say yes, eventually.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, eventually.”

The next wing has a bit more kick to it, and you’re starting to feel a tingle on your lips. Evan had noticed immediately, and turned towards you.

“Doing okay?” he asked softly.

You nod, breathing out a little. “Still manageable.”

“You’re doing great,” Sean coaxed. “Since we're on the topic, you have any wedding plans set?”

You had exchanged a look with Evan, both of you smiling. “We’re keeping it small and intimate,” Evan says. “Close family and friends. We’re still working out the details, but we know it’ll be somewhere meaningful to us.”

“Can I expect an invitation?” Sean jokes.

You laughed softly, surprising yourself. “Sure, why not. We’ll make sure you get one.”

“Oh really? Thank you!” Sean smiled. “Okay, before we dive into the next wing, I have to ask, who’s the better cook between you two?”

Evan chuckled before you even got the chance to respond. “She is, hands down.”

You smiled. “You cook fine, babe. When you’re not burning grilled cheese.”

“Which happens?” Sean prompted, eyes gleaming with interest.

“Often enough that the smoke detector hates him,” you said with a laugh.

Evan raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, true. But her cooking is on a whole other level.”

Sean laughs. “I’d love to see you two do a cooking show together in the future. Maybe some spicy dishes next time?”

You groaned playfully, eyeing the next wing on the table. “I think after today, I’m going to avoid spice for a good while.”

“Speaking of the future,” Sean says, reaching for another cue card. “Since you’ve taken a step back from acting, and Evan’s still heavily involved, has that changed anything for you two? I mean, with you being away from the industry and all.”

You glanced at Evan and smiled softly. “I thought it would be difficult at first. But Evan’s always been supportive, and I decided to step back because I wanted to focus on other things. It’s given me time to explore other passions.”

“She still visits me on set, though,” Evan adds, eyes softening. “And everyone always loves having her around. I think the crew likes her more than me.”

You smiled softly. “They just like the cookies and muffins that I bring.”

Sean chuckles. “Seems like you two have a pretty solid dynamic. Which brings me to my next question, what’s the secret to making it work for so long? Six years is impressive in Hollywood years, it’s hard to reach that kind of longevity, especially that you both are in the industry.”

Evan turns to you, eyebrows raised as if the answer is pretty obvious. “We just get each other, and honestly, I think being best friends at first really helped. We’re ridiculously comfortable around each other.”

“Ridiculously is right,” you agree, smiling. “We’ve been through everything together. The good, bad, utterly chaotic, you name it. But we always talk things through.”

Sean nods thoughtfully. “Communication. A classic, but always true.”

The next wing awaits, and you hesitate before taking a bite of it. Evan watches you carefully, waiting to see how you would react.

When the heat hits you immediately, your eyes widen. “Oh, my god.”

Evan laughs, though he’s wincing through his own bite. “That’s…oof, wow.”

You reached for your water, but Evan already has the glass of milk ready for you. “No baby, drink this instead. The water makes it worse.”

You took the glass of milk gracefully, fingers brushing as you sip. “You’re the best.

“Always,” he replies, gaze lingering on you.

Sean smirks, taking in the moment. “Alright, I think we need to dig into something else before you both pass out from the heat.”

You can’t help but laugh, even as your eyes begin to water. “Yes, please.”

“Evan, you’ve been killing it in all these dramatic roles. But do you ever see yourself doing something lighter? Maybe a rom-com?” Sean asks.

Evan shrugs, wiping his lips with a napkin. “Honestly? Maybe. I think it would be fun, why not. Especially if I could work with her again.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I mean, you’re an amazing actress, and I do miss working with you.”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you momentarily speechless. Sean seems to pick up on it, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “So, any chance we’ll see you back on screen soon?”

You laughed nervously. “Maybe. I mean, I’ve been tempted, especially with Evan constantly trying to rope me back in.”

Evan smiled brightly. “We’ve joked about it a couple of times. But she’s hard to convince.”

“More like you haven't pitched me anything compelling enough,” you teased, taking a sip of the water. “You’d have to really sell it.”

“Oh, I can sell it,” Evan laughs. “Just wait, one of these days.”

The last wing was brutal. The second that you bite into it, your entire mouth feels like it’s on fire. You clutch Evan’s arm, face scrunching in pain as you try not to let the heat overwhelm you.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, chugging the milk Evan hands you. “Why did I agree to this?”

Evan is faring only slightly better, tears pooling in his eyes. “Because you love me?”

“I might reconsider that after this,” you joked, voice a little hoarse.

Sean was laughing, clearly entertained by the chaos. “You guys survived!”

“I’m just glad I did this with you,” Evan says, rubbing your back gently as you recover. “Even if you hate me for it now.”

You glanced up at him, slight tears streaming down your face but still managing a smile. “Could never hate you.”

Once the video had wrapped up, you and Evan found yourselves hanging out backstage of the Hot Ones studio. You collapsed onto a couch with a tub of ice cream between you, as Evan watches you like you’re the only person in the world.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, voice low and sincere.

“I did it,” you say, mostly to yourself than anyone else. “I actually did it.”

Evan leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You did, and you were amazing.”

“Guess we have to cancel our sushi dinner, because I’ll be feeling these spicy wings on my mouth for a good couple of hours,” Evan laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder, still working through the lingering heat. “Next time, let’s just do a cooking show.”

Evan laughed again, wrapping an arm around you. “Deal.”

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