#so easily embarrassed. and so it is so embarrassing.

[partiallysame]

Ghost Gets No Bitches Part 2:

second part to THIS

Word count 1400

Content warning: suggestive, alcohol

When ghost finally texted you the message was something along the lines of: 

Hello. This is the man from (insert specific grocery store name followed by the exact address of said grocery store). 

You: Do I get to know your name or am I just supposed to call you Man From Grocery Store?

Ghost: Simon

Wow ok not a talker but we can work through that. Simon knew he should take you to a proper dinner but you made him so anxious he needed somewhere safe. Comfortable. Ah yes the closest bar to his base that he goes to almost daily. When you agreed to the date the panic really set in. He’s gonna be alone with you again (he ran to Price to ask for help on what to do. “You can’t wear the fucking mask” “but why?”)

The second Ghost got out of his car he noticed Soap had followed him to the bar (how could he not, Ghost had been sweating all day about meeting his lil lass again) “you walk in that bar and I’ll put a bullet in you, Mohawk”

“Aye come on. Jus wanna see a little more of the pretty bird that’s got ya all nervous”

 Soap knew he was bluffing about shooting him until Ghost pulled up his shirt enough to show his gun and the silencer attached to it. Yup ok he really would shoot him. Suddenly Soap is back in his car.

And then there you were, picture of perfection walking towards him. Big smile and small dress oh he was fucked. He opened the door for you and you let out a “good boy” as you walked through, an audible gulp came from him. Making your way to the bar to order, you told the bartender your drink, turning to ask Simon what he wanted only to find him standing 4 feet from you, scared to get too close. “Come here.” A command. One giant step and he was by your side. You moved closer until your shoulder was touching him. Control your breathing Ghost. “What do you want big boy?” You looked up at him and he should be embarrassed that you just called him that in front of his favorite bartender but he is definitely not. He said the beer he wanted and you added “two please. He’s nervous” the bartender was trying not to laugh.

“Tab Open or closed?” The bartender asked to which you quickly said open and began sliding your card over. 

“No.” Simon’s voice was deep and gravely and his sudden outburst caught you off guard. He may let you walk all over him but there was no way he, a gentleman would let you pay. 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised, “did you just tell me no?” Voice laced with genuine surprise and his eyes got wide, fuck was he in trouble? He nodded too afraid of how to properly respond but he continued to hand his card over and return yours to you. 

“You only get to tell me that once and that was it.” You scolded him as the barkeep slid the drinks over to you. You grabbed his two beers, one in each hand to hand to your date. He nodded again in response but did not miss the way your eyes were glued to his giant hands when he easily held the two bottles in one hand. 

Making your way over to a booth to sit, someone bumped into you, slightly spilling your drink down your hand. The man kept walking until a large (big sexy) hand grabbed his shoulder. Terrified apologies stumbled from his lips at the sight of Simon. But your hand quickly found its way onto Simon’s chest. 

“It’s not a big deal. Right Simon?” He looked down at you just in time to see you put your fingers in your mouth sucking the spilled drink from them. Christ’s sake woman. Your hand on his chest could feel his racing heart beat. 

“Not a big deal mate.” He let go of (pushed) the man as he watched you finish the walk to the table you wanted. He followed but when he got to the table he just stood there so awkwardly. 

“Simon, sit down. This is a date you know.” He’s sat. You decided that if he wasn’t going to talk then you wouldn’t either. You just sat there watching this giant muscle man fidget in his seat, emotional support beer being held so tightly in front of him. Your eyes taking in all of his features, pretty blue eyes and chiseled facial features. After however many minutes of silence (Simon squirming) you decided it was time for billiards. This is a bar after all. 

“Let’s go play” your head nodding to the empty pool table. The sudden sound of your voice made him jump. For goodness sakes man chill. He downed his second beer as he stood beginning to relax slightly. The bar was starting to get crowded so you reached for his hand before making your way to the table, pulling him behind you. You’re touching him. Fuck your hands are so soft, small compared to his. How would they look holding his…  A small and disappointed “oh” came from your lips as you neared the table. A group of men had gotten to it first but with a quick clear of his throat and deadly stare from Simon they gently handed you the cue ball. You turned to face him and god you were so close to him. He thought you holding his hand was bad? Now your chest is touching his. 

“Ready to lose?” You questioned batting your lashes at him, watching his pupils dilate. 

“I was gonna ask you the same.” You bit your lip at his response, excited to finally get somewhere with this man. There was a stare down for a few moments before you turned to begin the game. 

Were you bad at pool? No. Were you good? Also no. But Simon? Never missed a shot. No no this won’t do. Quickly realizing that you are losing (you only got one turn) you changed the game. Now you’re just standing at the edge of the table, looking pretty, moving the balls around with your hands, demanding trick shots. 

“Orange here to here then this pocket.” Hands pointing around before being placed palms down on the table, cleavage exposed and Simon can’t breathe. He does it and you praise him with another “good boy.” Two more planned shots and now you’re curling your finger, beckoning him closer. 

“8 ball. Corner pocket.” Simon begins to bend to line up his shot when you move so you are sandwiched between him and the table. Breathe Simon breathe. “Go on handsome.” Fuck ok he can do this. His large body easily envelopes yours, slowly bending at the waist and you are pushed down slightly, his chest pressed against your back. Your ass pressed exactly where you want it. Simon’s arms wrap around you to place his hand under the stick to steady it. You wiggled your ass back against his crotch and you could hear him stifle a groan. You can tell he’s trying to focus on the task at hand, but let's make it more fun. You turn your head until your lips are brushing against his jaw, sliding their way up to his ear and the whine that escapes this man at the contact. His hands glued to where they were placed on the table, too scared to move them where he actually wanted them.

“If you make this, you’ll get a reward.” You pressed your body into him more, feeling what was starting to form in his pants and you could feel the vibrations in his chest from a suppressed growl. “But.” you paused for a moment and he thought he was going to break the pool stick from holding on so hard. “But if you miss, your friend from the parking lot is allowed to come play too next time. So whats it gonna be?” You removed your lips from his ear, signalling him to take the shot. A breathy and accidental “fuck me” came from him as he lined up his shot. There was no way he was going to miss this, but when you added “thats the plan” after his last comment he missed the ball all together, pool cue scratching the green fabric on the table. He stood quickly cursing every god there ever was as you spun in his arms now face to face. Your arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck. “What was his name again?”

Part 2.5 Part 3

[davinawritings]

Over Excited

Pairing: Sub Puppy Hybrid Boyfriend x Dom Fem Reader

Warnings: Vaginal Sex, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms In A Small Amount Of Time, Creampie, Talks Of Oral

You had always known that getting over-excited was a trait of your boyfriend, Jasper. He is a puppy hybrid, so it is practically part of his nature. What you had not planned on, however, was him always getting over-excited when it came to sex.

He loves you, and he loves fucking you, so much so that he can’t stop his desperate thrusting and cums with only a few thrusts. Jasper would always get embarrassed, and you would always assure him it was okay. 

“I adore that you love me so much that I make you cum so easily, puppy,” and “It’s okay, puppy, you already made me cum so many times with your tongue” were frequent phrases between the both of you. It would make him feel better, but you both know that all he wants to do is make you cum on his cock.

Today, you were going to try something a little different with Jasper. He had already licked you to completion twice, something he would spend hours doing if you would let him, and now you had him sitting on the couch as you hovered above his drooling tip.

“Alright, baby. I’m going to ride your cock, but we are going to try something new this time”, you begin explaining. He looks at you with desperation, already pawing at your hips and trying to get you to sink onto his throbbing shaft. You stroke your hands along his fur-covered chest, trying to soothe him as you continue, “I’m going to ride you, baby, but I’m not stopping when you cum. I’m going to keep fucking myself on your cock until I cum on it”.

He nods enthusiastically, hips attempting to thrust upwards, needing to feel your pussy wrapped around him. You roll your eyes playfully, knowing he would probably agree to anything if it meant that he would get inside you faster. “If you really need me to stop, you say our safe word. Understand?” you ask and stop all movement until he agrees. Leaning forward, you kiss him, only separating to release a moan as you finally lower yourself on his dick. 

“So good. So go-good!” he says, hands shifting to play with your chest as you bounce up and down. Moans flow freely from you both, but Jaspar’s moans quickly increase in frequency as his hips start bucking against you. You feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you as he buries his face in your neck and chest.

This usually is when you would lift yourself off, and he would lick you clean, making you cum on his tongue again. Instead, you wrap your hands around the back of the couch to keep yourself steady as you increase your thrusts.

“Fu-fuck. It’s too mu-much”, he whimpers out. You don’t stop; his cock is still hard, and you can feel him twitching inside your wet walls. You moan as he whimpers again, loving the sound of his desperation. 

“You are doing so good, baby. That’s it. Taking it like a good boy for me”, you praise. Your words seem to be his undoing as he once again fills your pussy with his cum. His cum is pushed from your pussy on each thrust, his balls becoming completely covered in his own release. 

Tears gather in his eyes as your thrusts never slow, nearing your own release. His hands dig into the couch as whines fall from his lips, the overstimulation rising even higher. “I can’t anymore. I-It’s too… too much. Fuck. Too sen-sensitive”. You take his face in your hands, shifting your hips so each thrust drives his pointed cock straight into your G-spot. 

“I know it’s a lot puppy. But you can take it, right? You can be my good puppy and make me cum on your cock. I think you can handle a little more, baby. I’m so close. So fucking close, pup”, you say, wanting to cum on his cock so badly. You are right on the edge, body thrumming with pleasure. 

Jasper nods his head, and you smile, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, loving the softness as your hips continue to slam down harshly. His arms wrap around your body as he buries his face in your neck, whimpers being released in the sensitive skin as he bucks his hips up. You cry out his name as he bites down on the sensitive flesh, cunt gripping his cock like a vice as you cum hard. “Fu-fuck puppy. I’m cumming. Don’t stop. Fuccckkk, please don’t stop”, you cry out.

He bucks harder beneath you, his oversensitive cock shooting rope after rope of cum once again. Tears spill freely from his eyes as he moans out, “Too much. To…too good. You fee… mmmm… feel too good. I’m cumming ag-again!”. 

Both sit in each other’s embrace as you calm down from your highs, the only sound being heavy breathing.

You finally lift off him, both of you hissing slightly at the feeling, him from even more overstimulation and you from the now empty feeling. You give a light chuckle as you see his softening cock twitch, following his gaze and seeing his eyes now transfixed on his cum gushing from your cunt.

You move on slightly shaky legs, ready to get washcloths to clean you both up. But before you can take a step, he wraps his arms around your waist and brings you down onto the couch. He quickly arranges you both, so you are lying on the sofa with his head buried in your chest. 

“Jasper, I need to get us cleaned up. You were such a good pup for me. It’s time for me to take care of you now.” He only holds you tighter, his eyes already closed, as he says, “Cuddles and nap now. Clean up later.”

You smile fondly, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as the thought of relaxation takes hold. The idea of sinking into Jasper’s chest for a peaceful nap feels irresistible at this moment. You decide to embrace the comfort and love that awaits you, allowing yourself to drift away into a world of blissful rest.

[mssorceressupreme]

Truth or Dare | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Fred realises his true feelings for you once you are dared to french kiss George during a round of truth or dare. Draco then forces you to kiss him instead, which only results in a brawl. You then take Fred back to the common room and help clean his wounds.

Warnings/tags: violence/fighting, jealous!fred, kissing, non-con touch, Draco being a git (sorry malfoy lovers 😭), cleaning wounds after a fight trope, reader isn't in a specified house here, spicy ending (if u squint)

———

The Ravenclaw common room had never seen a gathering quite like this. The enchanted blue flames flickered in the fireplace, casting a radiant glow over the room, which today, was packed with students from all four houses.

Luna had invited everyone over, claiming that a “spontaneous social gathering” would be a great way to pass the time and forget about your studies for a while.

The usual gryffindor group, Cedric and some hufflepuffs, the slytherin trio and Cho, all decided to partake in this gathering.

And so, there you all were, sitting in a large, chaotic circle on the floor, playing a game of truth or dare that had long spiralled out of control.

The rules were simple: if you refused a dare or a truth, you had to take Veritaserum and spill your deepest, darkest secret in front of everyone. No one wanted to risk that.

So far, Harry had been dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, which led to him—rather sheepishly—kissing Ginny, earning a gag from Ron. But moments later, Ron found himself a stuttering mess when Hermione had been dared to sit on his lap for two rounds, her face burning red while he struggled to keep his cool.

Neville, poor thing, had been forced to recount an embarrassing moment where he tripped down an entire staircase in front of his crush, which turned out alright anyway because they went to Madam Pomfrey together and spent the whole day chatting.

And now, it was your turn.

Draco, who sat beside you, leaned in with a smug grin. “Alright Y/N, let’s make this interesting,” he drawled. “I dare you to French kiss the person sitting across from you.”

You turned your head, your stomach flipping.

And there sat George Weasley, grinning at you like he had already won.

The room erupted into cheers, and George wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “Well, Y/N, I won’t say no,” he teased, leaning back on his hands.

Your heart sank a little—not because George was a bad choice, but because you wished it was his twin instead.

Still, rules were rules.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up and took slow tentative steps across the large circle, kneeling in front of George. “Alright Georgie, just get it over with,” you muttered, cheeks burning.

George chuckled. “Hey! At least pretend to be excited.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling lightly, before leaning in, pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back easily, bringing a hand to your neck, letting it linger a moment longer than necessary before you pulled away, flustered.

George gave you a grin then winked, and you smiled back. He was one of your closest friends, after all; teasing you came naturally to him.

"Okay that's done!" Flustered, you rose up and hurried back to your spot next to Draco.

"You guys are adorable." Cho, who was sitting on the other side of you, nudged you gently, and you laughed nervously.

Sure, George was handsome, humorous, and kind, but he wasn't Fred. To most people, they were pretty much the same person, two halves of a whole, but to you, it was different. There was something about Fred that you saw differently.

Speaking of Fred, you shot a quick glance in his direction, curious as to his whole reaction regarding the scene that just unfolded.

Fred hadn’t said a word.

He sat stiffly, arms crossed, his jaw tight as he glared at his twin. Something in his chest twisted when he saw George’s smug grin.

But it wasn't entirely George's fault. You see, no one knew of Fred's secret crush on you. Would you call it a crush? Man, feelings were a complicated mystery to Fred, he never bothered going down that lane, it was foreign to him. Best avoid all that sappy stuff, y'know.

Draco, however, was unimpressed. “That was pathetic,” he scoffed, leaning closer to you. “You call that a French kiss? It had to be longer.”

You folded your arms, tilting your head to the side. “You didn’t even say how long.”

Draco smirked. “Fine, then, two minutes. You can do it on me instead. Save you the hassle of walking over there again."

The room let out a collective “ooooh,” and your stomach churned.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Crabbe, Goyle and Dean chanted.

"Wha—I already did the dare!" You countered, raising your hands in defence.

"Hmm now that Draco mentioned it, it was a bit of a short kiss, barely a French kiss, more like a Portuguese kiss." Lee agreed, resting his hand on his chin.

"Portuguese kiss? That's not even a thing you git." Angelina chortled, throwing her head back.

Before you could react, Draco leaned in slightly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers barely grazed your cheek, but it was enough to make you shift uncomfortably. He patted your head, smiling like he was doing you some kind of favour.

You didn’t like it.

But Draco was your friend, and this was supposed to be fun, so you ignored it. You didn't want to ruin the mood for everyone so you forced yourself to tolerate it.

Fred, however, wasn’t ignoring it.

His hand was clenched into a tight fist in his lap, and his usually mischievous eyes were laced with something entirely different.

Draco leaned in again, wrapping one arm around you. “Come on, then,” he murmured, his smirk widening. “Or do you want the Veritaserum?”

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You didn’t want to kiss him. But you definitely didn’t want to take the serum, either.

Draco took your hesitation as an invitation. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re scared.”

The crowd cheered again, urging you on.

Draco removed his arm then ruffled your hair slightly, "Don't be a wuss, I'll make it enjoyable for ya."

"Don't be scared Y/N, it's only a kiss!" Seamus encouraged, hoping to make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse.

Only a kiss? You wanted to save french kissing for someone special, not some ridiculous dare.

Draco leaned closer, nuzzling his nose into your neck. His hand brushed against your arm, he was so close that you could now smell his fresh scent. You leaned back instinctively, smiling awkwardly while brushing your arm.

Everyone was so caught up encouraging the two of you to kiss that no one paid attention to the speed at which Fred stood up from the floor and bolted to Draco, tackling him harshly.

A collective gasp echoed through the room as the two of them crashed onto the floor. Draco barely had time to react before Fred punched him, his face twisted in pure rage. The two of them were now in a brawl, wrestling each other on the ground. It was clear that no one was going easy on each other.

“Keep your hands off her,” Fred snapped, his voice low and furious.

Draco, stunned for only a second, sneered up at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

"Fred! Oi! Stop, it's just a game!" Lee's attempt at stopping Fred with his words was useless.

Fred wasn’t listening. His fists clenched, his breathing heavy as he pinned Draco down, gripping his shirt harshly.

Draco’s smirk returned. “Merlin, are you jealous Weasley?”

Fred loosened his grip, blinking slowly, "I..."

"Called it. Bet you wished it was you getting to french kiss Y/N then. Why don't you let me finish my dare with her so I can show you how it's done eh?" Draco remarked, all too obnoxiously for Fred's liking.

Fred's eyes grew darker, laced with furiousness.

He lunged again, and in a matter of seconds, they were full-on fighting.

Gasps and shouts filled the room as they tumbled, fists flying, knocking over a pile of books and scattering cards from an abandoned wizarding chess game. The flood thudded heavily, as they continued their wrestling.

“Fred! Draco! Stop!” Voices pleaded, but they were drowned out as Fred was blinded by rage. How dare Draco force himself onto you like that?!

No one listened.

You watched them in pure horror as they fought; you joined the others in yelling at them to stop, but none of them listened.

Hermione immediately went to comfort you, placing a comforting hand on your arm and sending you an apologetic look. Was this all because of you? You felt like shit for causing this, bloody hell, you should've just french kissed Draco.

“Merlin’s beard, Fred, stop!” George tried pulling his twin back, but Fred shook him off, shoving him away.

Cedric attempted to pull Draco off Fred, but Draco pushed him aside, scoffing, "Not now Diggory!"

Draco, despite being an arrogant prat, was also a decent fighter, and he managed to shove Fred back, wiping a bit of blood from his lip.

“What the hell?!” you finally yelled, eyes darting from Fred to Draco.

Fred froze.

His furious gaze met yours, his chest rising and falling heavily, as he wiped some blood off his lips.

He swallowed hard. Then, without a word, he turned and stormed out of the common room.

You hesitated only a second before running after him.

—

You found him on the astronomy tower balcony, leaning against the railing, gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white.

The night air was cold, but Fred’s skin was burning.

You took a deep breath. “Fred—”

“Why don’t you go check on Draco?” he cut in sharply. “Or George. Your boyfriends.”

Your brows furrowed. “They’re not my boyfriends. You're being ridiculous now.”

Fred let out a short, humourless laugh. “Really? You were getting pretty cozy with George back there.”

You sighed. “It was a dare, Fred.”

“Oh, and Draco just happened to be all over you?” He turned to face you, and that’s when you saw it—his bruised lip, the cut on his cheekbone, the faint traces of blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Come on, I know we're friends but I can handle myself." You assumed he was being protective as a friend, so you attempted comforting him, but failed miserably at doing so.

"Yeah, friends." He pressed his lips together.

You took a step closer wanting to reach up, but Fred’s eyes flickered elsewhere. “Don’t.”

You froze.

“I don’t need you feeling bad for me,” he muttered, turning back to the railing. His grip tightened. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, Fred,” you said softly.

Silence stretched between you. The wind howled through the tower, whipping his hair slightly, but Fred didn’t move.

Your gaze drifted to his hands. His knuckles were raw, bruised from the fight.

Without thinking, you reached out, gently prying one of his fists open. He held his breath, glancing down at you.

Your fingers traced the swelling on his knuckles, your touch featherlight. “We need to clean this up.”

Fred didn’t protest. He just stood there, his jaw clenched, watching you. He released his breath, silently agreeing.

Wordlessly, you pulled his hand in yours, leading him down the spiral staircase, away from the cold, away from the fight, away from everyone else.

—

The fire crackled softly in the Gryffindor common room, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The common room was empty—everyone was either asleep or still in the Ravenclaw tower, talking about what had happened.

Fred sat on the couch, his arms resting on his knees, his head tilted slightly downward. He hadn’t said much since you dragged him back.

You returned from the bathroom with a damp cloth and knelt in front of him.

“Hold still,” you murmured, gently dabbing at the dried blood on his lip.

Fred flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. He just watched you, his hazel eyes unreadable, though there was a glimmer of something, awe, perhaps. His eyes studied yours, the way your eyebrows furrowed as you focused on cleaning his wounds. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, you were the epitome of beauty in his eyes, a darling angel.

You focused on cleaning him up, biting your lip. The silence between you was begging to be broken, heavy with something left unsaid. But you chose to ignore it, shifting your focus to getting Fred cleaned up. You see, it was the way you were always so caring towards everyone, so kind, always selflessly giving your time away to help those who needed it. That was part of the reason Fred had fallen for you in the first place, your kindness.

Fred exhaled sharply as you pressed on his wound.

"Sorry..." you mutter, but he gently removed your arm, and rested it on his knee.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” he said suddenly.

You paused, looking up at him. “Stop what?”

He let out a cheerless laugh. “This. You. Making me feel like a complete idiot.”

Your heart pace increased. “I—”

“Do you know what it’s like?” His voice was raw, unfiltered, a slight rasp as he spoke softly. “Watching you? Seeing every guy in that room touch you? Kiss you?” He shook his head. “I nearly lost my mind.”

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away.

“Never thought I'd admit it, but I’ve wanted you,” his voice low, almost trembling. “For so long, and I—” He broke off, exhaling harshly. “And then tonight, I had to sit there and watch it. Merlin, it drove me so bloody mad.”

Your hands were shaking. Was this it? The Fred you never thought would ever return your feelings, about to spew the words right out?

Fred’s eyes locked onto yours, something desperate behind this gaze.

“I hate that you don’t see it,” he muttered.

“See what?” you breathed.

His lips parted, and for a second, he hesitated.

“That I love you.”

Your breath caught, inhaling as you paused.

Fred let out a rough laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Godric, I love you. I don’t just like you, I love you. And it kills me because I know you don’t feel the same way so I just thought I'd keep it to myself but here we are."

Your heartbeat felt as though it was pounding loud enough to wake up the whole dorm.

“You idiot,” you whispered.

Fred blinked. “What?”

“You idiot,” you repeated, your voice shaking. Then, before he could react, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his with all the emotion you've held back, the words you've been dying to say to him.

It was nothing like the kiss with George.

This was everything.

Fred let out a soft, startled sound before his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. His lips moved against yours, desperate, breathless. He kissed you like he had something to prove, like he needed you to know how much he meant it.

And you did.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, getting up from kneeling and he pulled you onto his lap, now straddling him in the common room, to which you were thankful that no one was around.

A soft moan escaped you, as he sucked on your lower lip, your hands tangled themselves in his fluffy hair, tugging lightly.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, you whispered, “I love you too.”

Fred let out a quiet, shaky laugh, resting his forehead against yours. “You better.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, and he grinned.

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, kissing him again as if there was no tomorrow. He smiled into the kiss, desperately needing a round two with you, his Y/N.

[cthulhus-curse]

Demonic Nature

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,153

Warnings: Demon!Wanda, Angel!Reader, Smut, Strap-Ons, Breeding, Fingering, Oral Sex | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: In which you test the ownership a demon has over you, an act which earns you quite the delicious 'punishment'.

Perfection has always come easily to you. It’s not like you ever had to try or strive to be something you weren’t. At the end of the day, you were an exemplary being of good and light. You could never do any wrong. Sins did not exist in your being as you lived on happily among other angels. For your god, you’d do anything – you’d be anything. 

Then Wanda came along and turned your existence around.

You should’ve known at first that it would only take a demon to infiltrate the heavenly land which you resided in. Time stood still there, nonexistent for that matter. It was you and your fellow angels who bestowed greatness among humanity, saving its people from the sins that live deep in their society. 

At first you thought Wanda was nothing more than another angel, a newly crafted being who was to join your little family. She seemed quite soft, almost a mirror of yourself down to your personality of mannerisms. You didn’t know it then, but it was all on purpose. Pretending to be a deeply crafted imagery of your being was her way of making you feel more comfortable and as the gullible little angel you were, you fell for it. Unlike Wanda, you had never seen evil up-close. 

Once her fangs had sunk deep into your mind, you were hers. You couldn’t explain it, but there were times your mind felt fussy around her, almost as though you were free of any thought, your brain only carrying distorted images of Wanda. She was a magical being capable of immeasurable destruction; you were the angel she had chosen to corrupt for her own amusement. 

“We should visit the humans. I mean, aren’t you curious to see them? See what they look like? How they act?” Wanda once said to you. Of course you had been curious, but there was no place to have freedom of thought among the angels. You were to be a carbon copy of everyone else, a pristine entity. 

After having been pressured constantly by Wanda, you accepted her terms. You were to visit the humans only for a few hours, to study their behavior, perhaps even pretend to be one of them. Your fellow angel had promised she had been before and never got into trouble, so innocent as you were, although knowing it was barred to visit the humans, you went along with it. 

It’s how you ended up stranded in a room with Wanda. The place was called a hotel, she said. You were to rest there, to recharge your energy, which you didn’t lack, and wait for the following day to pass given it was night. There were even adorable little things called ropes on the bed that you jumped over just to play with. Running your hands through them, you smiled. 

“Do you like them?” Wanda asked as she came up behind you. When you turned, your smile fell as you grew silent, frowning at the scene before you. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Don’t you like how I look?”

Her angelic presence had disappeared. The previously white feathered wings were replaced with broken, dark red ones, holes upon them and all. There was no halo over her head as it was instead substituted for a pair of horns along with a tail that was shifting along her leg, the end of it pointy and harsh. With eyes that glowed red, head tilting, you were more than enthralled. Embarrassment set aside, you admitted to yourself she was even more enchanting than before. 

You were scared at that moment, but using her magic, Wanda didn’t allow you to run. Instead she carried around a state of nudity that she wished to mirror upon you, getting your robes to disappear and leave you with nothing but your wings and halo to show. Licking her lips, the red headed demon was hungry. 

“This will be our little secret, honey. Just for the two of us to keep,” she whispered with a husky tone while walking forward. Although you knew to run from the one you could see was a demon, you remained in place. The curiosity of what she’d do to you was far too much to ignore. “It’s just us now, Y/N. There is no one that can find you. Whatever happens in this room, I promise it’ll stay here. Now, don’t you want me to teach you some new things?”

You hesitated to even speak. “What is this? This isn’t right, Wanda. I’m not supposed to see you…like this. You’re- you’re a demon!”

“I thought you believed all creatures to be pure,” she shot back. When crawling over the bed towards you, you noticed the animalistic nature of her, red eyes commanding you without the need of words to be spoken. “I’m not a monster, sweetheart – I’m your owner. There’s a difference.”

“I’m not owned by you or anyone!”

“Really?” She giggled at that, shaking her head with disbelief and adoration – you were far too innocent for your own good. “Then what’s this?”

Running her hand over your abdomen made a wave of pain shoot through your body. You squirmed and attempted to get away, but the pain was much worse if you dared resist. A beautifully crafted marking settled itself over your skin. It simulated an image like that of a crown which glowed deep red as it was ingrained into your body. Whether you liked it or not, you were now property of Wanda Maximoff. 

“You know, I’ve spent centuries trying to find a willing pet. It’s always been failed attempt after failed attempt, too much red on my ledger. You’re the first one to accept my gift,” she grazed her fingers over your womb tattoo. “You’re the first survivor and no offense to the other lab rats, but after the little time we’ve spent, you’re my favorite.”

“Wanda…” you mumbled with fear. 

“Shhh don’t be scared, little one. I don’t bite,” she stopped for a second to amuse herself. “Well, not yet at least.”

Your willingness to give in didn’t surprise Wanda. If at any point you dared misbehave, to refuse her, the tattoo would make it so that your body went through an immeasurable amount of pain. It wouldn’t settle until you obeyed your master’s orders. With the way Wanda controlled your mind, it wouldn’t be difficult to keep you stuck in place. 

Her mouth explored your body with adoration. Hands were everywhere, teasing your sides, nails digging into your skin to leave beautiful marks, along with her lips which kissed their way up your body as you simply sat there and took it. You knew it was wrong, that sinful activities filled with lust weren’t allowed as angels, and yet you loved it. With Wanda’s tongue exploring the expanse of your skin, you were finally in your true heaven. 

“You’re thinking too loud. Stop,” the redhead ordered before taking a nipple in her mouth. She scratched her nails over your midsection a bit, sucking tenderly over the erect bud, tongue swirling around it, before she moved on to the other one. “You need to remember that this isn’t bad. I’m not hurting you, sweetheart. All I’m doing is clearing you of your sins. Once I’m done with you, you’ll be untouchable. A pure angel that can never do anything wrong. It’s what you want, right? To make your stupid little god proud?” You nodded. “Good. Then you can do it if you sit there like a good girl and listen. I’m not here to hurt you. I promise I just want what’s good for you, baby.” She kissed the swell of your breasts, exploring everything in sight with just her mouth and devilishly split-tongue. “You know that, right?”

You nodded once again. Wanda didn’t want to hurt you, you mused. All she wanted was to save you. Perhaps demons had changed for once. “I understand. Could you…make it better now? I can’t explain it, but it feels weird down there.”

The beam that overtook her features couldn’t be easily described, but the closest thing would be of pride. 

Wanda got you to relax over the bed, your wings comfortably spread apart so as to not cause you any discomfort. She traveled down your body using only her mouth to embrace your skin, lingering over the tattoo she had given you to strengthen its bond with you. After she was done with you, you wouldn’t easily rid yourself of it, if ever. 

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” she questioned with her head buried between your legs. Her tail wrapped itself around one of your ankles, making it so that you couldn’t easily close your legs. When you shook your head, she huffed with disapproval. “They’re all missing out. You’re truly a fucking angel, darling. Fuck, just look at you. If I had known you were this perfect, I would’ve taken you eons ago.”

As her split tongue first touched your cunt, you shuddered. The feeling of pure arousal and need shot through you faster than light. A hand gripped the bed sheets as the other went to the first place it could find: one of Wanda’s horns. 

When first merely grazing it, the demon moaned against your pussy. She had your legs pried open in front of her, nails digging so deep into your skin they drew blood. Her one weakness was her horns and tail, especially when you so tenderly held one of her horns and ghosted your hand over it at times. All Wanda saw was the red of her passion for you. 

“Tastes to fucking good,” she cried out while lapping at your slit furiously. As her fingers inched closer to your hole, Wanda drew lazy circles all over your clit. She could feel you pulsating against her, cunt throbbing against her mouth violently. “Such a perfect little whore for me.”

She didn’t hesitate to begin easing a finger in your tight hole. Never had you had anything inside you in such a way. You were painfully tight even for a single digit. Wanda licked you thoroughly, simply pumping the tip in you until you relaxed yourself enough to take the whole thing. It did the trick as you slowly were stretched out, your pussy taking in all which she gave you. 

Her focus wasn’t just on bringing you to your climax. Wanda wanted to torture you, to destroy every last bit of sanity and innocence that lay beneath you only to make it her own. She would be the one in charge of every single thought running through your head, praising you always for being such a willing pet who didn’t peg any questions. So quiet and loyal to the demon just as she wished. 

Thrusting her finger in and out of your hole made her grunt. There was an unshakable hypnotism she underwent while watching you ache just for her touch. Sloshing sounds filled her ears as she lay constantly tasting your wet pussy. Even sweet, yummy juices ran down your shaky inner thighs. Each little drop she saw needed to be against her tongue without hesitation. 

“I know you’re close, sweetheart,” Wanda breathed out deeply. It was quick, she knew, and yet neither of you cared. The faster she got you to cum, the easier you’d submit constantly. “You can cum for me, sweetheart. Do it right now just for your master. Be the good girl I know you are.”

You didn’t know what to call it, but there was a wave of relief shot through your body. The knot previously formed on your lower belly, right underneath the skin that carried the beautifully crafted tattoo, finally loosened. Wanda didn’t stop though. She curled up her finger inside of you, still inching it as deep as she could while very lightly sucking on your clit, then pushing harshly against it until you screamed. 

Once you were left a mess, Wanda filled herself with pride. “It’s what He wants, sweetheart. What we’re doing is just to keep all those pesky sins away,” Wanda explained as she sat between your legs. The demon licked her lips clean, her split tongue long enough to reach her chin and gather up all of your juices. “Now I’ll give you one last thing before letting you rest. Think of it as a reward for being such a good little angel.”

She was dripping between her own legs, pussy aching for you to make it all better, and yet wanda ignored it for the sake of more playtime. Her hand flicked and immediately the rope previously over the bed was wrapped around your wrists. It was rigid enough so that you couldn’t move your hands away even if you wanted to. Although it wasn’t your primary focus as you felt something poking at your stomach only to look down and frown with confusion. 

There was a unicorn dildo nestled between Wanda’s legs that was attached to her waist with black straps. The demon was far too busy checking your bindings to notice the curious look you gave the colorful horn, giggling a bit at its cuteness. 

The redhead tugged at the ropes admiring her handiwork. “Hmm nice and tight,” she muttered, taking a pause just to hold your gaze. “Just like you.” 

You gulped, but rather than fear, you were aroused. As bad as lust was of a sin, you couldn’t help the way in which you entirely handed your sanity to Wanda. She could easily control you, making you do anything she wished after having exerted such blissfulness over you. Although given how wondrous of a feeling it had been, you knew it wasn’t anything evil, but instead pure as the hands that groped your breasts, nipples being tugged and pinched between her fingers as she laughed. 

Once again, a flick of her wrist made it so another item appeared. Wanda undid the cap before oozing drops of the mysterious liquid all over her strap, throwing the bottle to the side. She grabbed herself and hummed, green eyes turning red as she watched herself jerk the faux cock up and down. When it was finally fully lubricated, she got to work. 

The tip of the unicorn horn dildo pressed against your cunt. Wanda slid it up and down your slit, its head spreading apart the slick folds that let out adorably wet sounds. You were still rather sensitive, and yet you ached to have her inside once again. It only made matters better to see the toy was much larger than her finger. You’d be all nice and full for your owner. 

Given what was inside, the toy was slightly heavier than others. It required to be held tightly before being slapped over your clit, Wanda mocking the way you wiggled away. She swirled it over your clit before dragging it back down to your entrance, teasing it slightly until she found you to be ready enough to take it all. 

When Wanda first thrust her hips forth, she had to groan. She could still feel the ghosting hand over her horns urging her arousal forth. For you, she was dripping. Her cock had lubricant all across it, the adorably colorful ridges from the unicorn shown off. 

“Such a good cock whore. Fuck, look at how pretty your pussy is. So hungry and desperate for my cock,” Wanda grunted as she began moving her strap inside of you. She was uncharacteristically slow, her hips holding themselves back while your pussy was adorably stretched out. She took everything from you — your soul, your mind, your innocence, and your being. Then again, you could never complain. “That’s it, angel. Take it all. Every—fucking—inch.” 

The room was filled with the stench of sex and your shared moans. You were much louder than she imagined, your noises all hoarse from the propensity of them. Being fucked by Wanda was all you longed for. The demonic nature of it all made you drip. You couldn’t notice, nor care, the way your wings began tinting dark, the edges all black similar to the fingertips of the demon. 

“That feels amazing. Oh my-”

Once you had grown used to her relentlessly large toy, the redhead was sure to claim you as her own. She kept her tail in place prying your legs open, pumping her cock in and out of your cunt while your inner walls hugged her tight. Hands were placed on your lower stomach for support right near your tattoo. Such a beautifully corruptible angel, Wanda thought. You were perfect. 

“Yeah? Well you’re doing such a good job, honey. Taking it all so well. Hmm I am so proud of you,” she commented while licking her lips hungrily at the sight of your bouncing tits, her split tongue making you drip. “The most perfect angel across the universe. You’re one of a kind, sweetheart, and so mine. Never fucking forget it.” 

Wanda slapped a hand over your tits, groping the mound tightly until she left marks on your skin. Never did she stop fucking you rough, your bodies slapping together accented by the sounds of pleasure that escaped your throat. In the hell that the demon created, you realized she was truly your savior. 

When you came for the second time, Wanda was there right with you. For a moment you were disappointed with the eventual emptiness you felt as she pulled out her dildo slightly to allow herself to squeeze it tightly. Then once white spurted drops oozed into your cunt, you were relieved.

She spent countless eons filling your pussy up with her cum, breeding you like the nice little slut you were, taking all of her seed. Movements only grew sloppier, and yet Wanda found it in herself to fuck the cum back into your pussy. She couldn’t allow even a drop of it to go to waste. You were at her mercy — her breeding bitch. 

“Shhhh that’s it, angel. Just like that. Take all of my sweet cum right in your pussy like a good pet,” she whispered. Hands kept slapping at your breasts and leaving them all nicely bruised. For a few extra moments she pumped her cock in you, the ridges of the horn making you scream. Soon enough, when her movements stopped, all you could witness was Wanda hovering on top of you while breathing raggedly. “My pretty one.”

“Hmm yours, Wanda,” you happily replied.

Whether it was the magic she used to control your thoughts, the womb tattoo, or out of your own volition, you still found yourself willing to remain by Wanda’s side. During all your existence you urged yourself to find more perfection with the angels, but never realized it was all to be made better by one particular demon. As sinful as you knew it to be, your newfound lover made it all worth it.

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Vi with a shy girlfriend ✞⛧

✞⛧ Vi notices your shyness immediately and loves you for it, but she also wants to help you feel comfortable in expressing yourself, especially when it comes to affection. She’s patient, never rushing you, and knows when to push and when to let you take the lead.

✞⛧ She always starts small, giving you little touches—brushing her hand against yours, placing a hand on the small of your back when she walks by you. She watches for your reactions, learning what makes you smile, what makes you flinch, and adjusting accordingly.

✞⛧ When she sees you shy away from a kiss, she doesn’t press it. Instead, she gives you a soft smile and a quiet, “It’s okay, babe,” before giving you time to settle.

✞⛧ She’s always the first to initiate hugs, but she’s not the type to force it. She’ll gently pull you into her arms, and if you seem uncomfortable, she’ll hold you in a way that lets you breathe easily, never making you feel trapped.

✞⛧ Vi constantly reassures you, verbally and through her actions, that you never have to force anything with her. “Take your time, sweetheart. I’ve got all the time in the world,” she’ll say with a warm grin, giving you space to come to her.

✞⛧ She gives you space when you need it, letting you retreat into your own little world for a moment, but she’s always nearby, just a glance away, ready to support you when you’re ready to come back.

✞⛧ When you get shy about holding hands in public, Vi gently takes your hand and weaves her fingers through yours, squeezing it lightly to let you know it’s okay. She doesn’t let go until she feels you relax in her hold.

✞⛧ Vi’s body language is always open and inviting when she’s with you, which helps you feel safe. She never crosses her arms or makes any sudden movements that would make you feel uncomfortable.

✞⛧ She often speaks in soft, reassuring tones when you’re feeling nervous or overwhelmed. If you’re struggling with something emotionally, she’ll keep her voice low and comforting, giving you the time to process.

✞⛧ She enjoys surprising you with small acts of affection that aren’t too forward, like brushing your hair out of your face or giving you a quick peck on the cheek when you least expect it, making you feel special but not pressured.

✞⛧ Vi always asks for permission before initiating anything more intimate, knowing how important consent and comfort are to you. She’ll ask, “Is this okay?” when she touches you in a way that might make you nervous, and she listens to your response with full attention.

✞⛧ She doesn’t tease you when you blush or get flustered. Instead, she finds it endearing, telling you how cute you are when you turn red, but never in a way that makes you feel embarrassed or self-conscious.

✞⛧ Vi makes sure to keep the environment relaxed, always creating a space where you can unwind and just be yourself. Whether it’s listening to music, watching movies, or just sitting quietly together, she’s content with simply being near you.

✞⛧ She loves when you come out of your shell, so whenever you do something small to show affection—like a quiet “I love you” or a gentle hand on her arm—she makes sure to show you just how much it means to her.

✞⛧ When you get shy about verbalizing your feelings, she encourages you gently, saying things like, “It’s okay to say it, babe. I wanna hear it,” giving you a safe space to open up at your own pace.

✞⛧ Vi has a way of calming your nerves with her confidence, not overbearing but steady. She won’t push you to be someone you’re not, but she’ll encourage you to take little steps outside of your comfort zone in a way that feels natural.

✞⛧ Vi has a habit of gently teasing you, but it’s never to make you feel bad. It’s always lighthearted, like calling you her “shy little thing” or “cutie,” making you smile even when you’re nervous.

✞⛧ She’s very aware of your body language, always noticing when you’re uncomfortable or retreating into yourself. If you seem tense, she’ll offer a gentle touch, like resting her hand on your knee or squeezing your hand to let you know she’s there.

✞⛧ Vi loves to spoil you in small ways—bringing you your favorite snacks, leaving sweet notes for you to find, or giving you little unexpected gifts. It’s her way of showing her affection without overwhelming you.

✞⛧ She makes it clear that she appreciates your quieter side, often telling you, “You don’t have to be loud to make an impact. You’ve got that quiet strength that I adore.”

✞⛧ Vi will often ask you how you’re feeling, making sure to give you room to talk, but never forcing you to do so. She listens intently, and when you do speak, she always validates your feelings, whether you’re happy, anxious, or shy.

✞⛧ When you get nervous about physical affection, she’s patient. She won’t rush things, but she’ll offer you her hand, her smile, and her quiet reassurance. “Whenever you’re ready, babe,” she’ll say, and you always feel safe in her arms.

✞⛧ Vi likes to take her time with you, making sure that when she touches you, it’s with intention. Whether it’s a slow kiss, a caress, or just holding you close, she wants you to know that you can trust her to be gentle with your heart.

✞⛧ She doesn’t let you hide your feelings for too long. If you’re upset or nervous about something, she’ll softly coax it out of you, saying things like, “Talk to me, sweetheart. I’m here to listen,” in a tone that leaves no room for hesitation.

✞⛧ Vi loves holding you close in bed, and she always makes sure to be the big spoon so she can wrap you up in her arms. It’s her favorite way to show affection without overwhelming you—just her steady presence.

✞⛧ She’s an amazing listener when you do decide to open up, never interrupting or trying to “fix” things, but simply hearing you out and offering support in the way she knows best.

✞⛧ When you’re feeling insecure, she’s quick to remind you how amazing you are, whether it’s with words or simple gestures—like brushing a strand of hair from your face or giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

✞⛧ Vi never makes you feel bad about needing time alone. She’ll kiss you softly and say, “I’ll be right here when you’re ready, babe,” and respect your need for space while always being there when you want to come back.

✞⛧ She’s not into public displays of affection, but in private, she’ll show you all the love and attention you need. Whether it’s a soft touch on the arm or a whispered compliment, she’s careful to ensure you feel cherished.

✞⛧ Vi’s touch is always gentle and reassuring, especially when you’re feeling vulnerable. Whether it’s a hand on your shoulder or a kiss on your forehead, her physical affection always makes you feel safe and loved.

✞⛧ She’s very perceptive of when you’re holding back, and though she never pushes, she’ll remind you how much she loves when you’re open with her. “You don’t have to hide, babe. I love every part of you,” she’ll say, and her voice always brings you comfort.

✞⛧ Vi’s ultimate goal is for you to feel comfortable in your own skin, and she works tirelessly to help you realize that she’s not going anywhere, that she’ll always be there to support you, no matter how shy or reserved you might be.

[deviouz]

Jason with a chubby! fem readerrr pls pls pls!!

Him admiring her as if she were an angel descended on earth and being genuinely surprised and confused that she doesn't really see that much appeal in her body like he does, but he has a way of showing his sweetheart just how beautiful she is (he may or may not has bought a floor length mirror and positioned it riiight in front of their bed <33)

Xoxo

thank you for indulging in my chubby chaser jason fantasies <3

if there’s one thing jason is good at, it’s making you feel beautiful. hell, beautiful might be an understatement with the way he worships the ground you walk on and gazes at you with nothing but pure love and devotion.

sometime’s he can see you staring longingly at outfits while out shopping, and he’s all to quick to force those negative thoughts out of your head. he’ll encourage you to try them on, narrows his eyes when he knows you’re about to say something rude about yourself, and insists on buying it because all he wants is for you to see yourself the way he sees you — drop dead gorgeous and utterly perfect.

truth be told, jason loves his partners to have a little more meat on their bones, so to speak. there’s something about the way your eyes widen and face gets all flushed when he picks you up, sometimes completely out of the blue, and spins you around like you weigh nothing.

“jay, put me down! i’m too—”

“don’t you even think about finishing that sentence unless you’d like not being able to walk for the rest of the week.”

he’ll put you up on the counter and slide his hands under the sundress he had bought you, fingers gripping into the plush of your thighs until they’re parting to make room for him. you’re still too flustered to look him in the eye, lips curled into a slight pout and cheeks all puffed up.

“come on, sweetheart, don’t give me that look. you and i both know that i could easily bench double your weight without breaking a sweat.”

you can’t really fault him there, especially not when he’s slinging you over his shoulder and waltzing off to the bedroom. the asshole even has the audacity to laugh at your incessant demands to put me down! and the so-called-punches you threw at his toned back.

another thing jason todd was particularly good at was fucking those mean thoughts right out of your pretty little head.

ever the adventurous one, you and jason have tried your fair share of positions in the bedroom, though his favorite had to be reverse cowgirl. he loves having you perch on his lap right at the end of the bed, hands roaming your naked form with fervor, all the while he has you gaze into the mirror hung on the wall just across from you both. it was tall and expensive and oh-so-perfect to gaze at the sheer size difference between you and your boyfriend.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” jason whispers, rough hands grabbing at the fat of your hips with need. “so perfect for me.”

you’re already at your wits end, throbbing with need around all eight inches of his cock nestled deep in your cunt, lips swollen from the way you kept tugging them between your teeth. it was hard to keep still, hips itching to move, but jason kept you from doing so.

“jason, please—”

“ah, ah, ah. you know the drill.”

giving a desperate whine, you threw your head back against his shoulder and rolled your hips. “you’re the worst.”

one of jason’s hands trailed up to grab at your neck, lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he gave a soft chuckle. “don’t be a brat and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”

“maybe?”

“mhmm. i’m sure if you said it sweet enough i could be convinced otherwise.”

huffing out a puff of air, you turned your gaze back to the mirror. jason’s hand trailed from your neck to your chest, giving your breasts some much needed attention while you stared at the reflection, embarrassment trickling into your nerves.

“i… i’m beautiful.”

his hand slowly slid down to your stomach, sharp eyes staring at your own in the mirror. “and?”

“and pretty.”

“and?”

“…gorgeous?”

“and?”

“and if you don’t fuck me within the next two seconds, i’m gonna—”

before you could even finish your sentence, jason gave a sudden thrust of his hips, forcing his cock all the deeper — deep enough to have the tip brushing at an all-too-sensitive spot and your eyes start to roll back.

“yeah? what are you gonna do, princess?”

his thrusts didn’t stop after the first. if anything, he was just getting started.

“gonna go try to get yourself off?”

“n-no, jay!”

the sound of skin-against-skin soon filled the room, coupled with his teasing words and your pleasure-filled noises.

“you sure ‘bout that?”

the quick nods from your head had him smirking, hands grabbing at the plush of your hips with a possessive touch. he held you tight and fucked up into you like an animal in heat, like he was desperate to leave a mark on you to show everyone else who you belonged to — who he belonged to, too.

“promise, i swear,” words were becoming harder to form with the way he relentlessly pounded up into your warm heat, “no one— ah! fucks me like you!” your arousal was more than evident with the way slick began to coat your inner thighs, a creamy white ring appearing around the base of his cock with every thrust.

“that’s my good girl.”

[deathofacupid]

indian!reader x jujutsu-kaisen men; indian food?

gojo cannot handle spicy food. he just can't. when he has dinner at your parent's house for the first time, he's too embarrassed to ask for milk, so he just chokes it down, red-faced and teary-eyed. you couldn't handle watching that, so you got milk for 'yourself'. dryly, you asked him, 'would you like some, 'toru?' pfft. some. he guzzled the entire glass in two seconds flat. (and then three more after that.)

geto who loves spicy food. after a whole day of swallowing disgusting curses, the one thing he look forward to? flavor. jesus, he'll take anything. your parents love him for it. (you're also convinced his spice tolerance is higher than yours.)

nanami is okay with it. doesn't love it, doesn't hate it. if you ask him, pastries are more his thing, but he'd never waste food. his spice tolerance is in the middle. unlike gojo, he's man enough to confess to needing milk. his ego isn't easily bruised.

toji likes spicy food. (he'll also eat quite literally anything, but that's besides the point.)

choso doesn't take spice well. he'd eat whatever you made, (on the first date, you didn't take his spice tolerance in mind when you invited him over for dinner), just to please you. he's sweet like that. which is why you feel so bad for giggling whenever he's dying, you can't help that he's so cute. he'd definitely be begging for milk, no doubt.

sukuna is unbothered by spicy food. spicy food should be bothered by him.

@cuntyji, thought of you while writing this <3

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling him daddy; Caleb

Word count; 922

Warnings; "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; Hope yall enjoy these updated drabbles!! <3

☆☆☆☆☆

You and Caleb weren't…well, technically, you weren't dating, but you weren't exactly sure what to call it. Your relationship is the same it's always been.

The usual cuddling, hand-holding, pretending to date to thwart love confessions…

And you were trying to figure out how exactly to push the envelope just a step further.

As you were scrolling through decade old apps, you found a TikTok compilation.

Now, you weren't exactly sure what TikTok was since it was, at least, 20-years old, but you decided to watch the video anyways since you were doom scrolling in bed at Caleb's home.

As you were watching, one trend caught your eye.

It was the aptly named “calling your boyfriend daddy” trend and while you didn't have a boyfriend…you did have Caleb.

You weren't exactly sure what kinks Caleb had, but whether his reaction was sexual, disgust, or whatever it may be, you wanted to see. So, with that thought in mind, you get up and call your OTTO into the room.

“Hello, master, what do you need help with today? Do you need breakfast? Master Caleb left two hours, thirty-five minutes, and 40 seconds ago to go to work. He won't be home until–”

“Thank you so much for that, OTTO, but I needed something else.” You quickly cut the circular robot off, feeling a bit bad for doing so, but you doubt its feelings would be hurt. “Whenever Caleb gets home and we start cooking, can you switch to your recording mode?”

“I can do that. Any video saved will go straight to Master Caleb's phone.” The bot says as it flies around your head and you shrug, “That's fine with me. Let me know when he gets home!”

Now, you just need to figure out how you'll seamlessly bring the word up in conversation with Caleb…

“He's home! He's home!” OTTO shouts, almost excitedly, as it speeds around the house similarly to an overexcited dog. Though, its warning was a tad too late as Caleb steps in the door while the bot is excitedly yelling.

“You missed me so much, you got OTTO to tell ya when I get home?” He laughs as he takes his Colonel hat off, setting it on the coffee table.

“Maybe…” you grab his hat, putting it on as you shove him toward his room. “Go get changed, I'm hungry.”

“Alright, alright. Geez, no need to be in such a hurry, pipsqueak.” He holds his hands up, allowing you to push him.

After he's changed, he joins you in the kitchen with OTTO flying steadily around the room.

“Did you tell OTTO to do something? It's acting realllly strange.” Caleb's eyes narrow as he shuts the rice cooker. “Nope, maybe it's broken.” You shrug, continuing to peel an apple.

You decided to make an apple smoothie for both you and Caleb, almost completely forgetting about your earlier plan. “Oh right…” you murmur under your breath.

How were you going to bring it up…

“What're you thinking about, pipsqueak?” Caleb rests an arm on your shoulder as he pokes the skin between your eyebrows. “What's got you furrowing your brows?”

“Well da– I mean, hmm…” you're honestly feeling a bit frustrated, but also embarrassed that you can't find a way to naturally insert this word into the conversation.

How come he can do it so easily when calling you pipsqueak?

Caleb raises a brow, leaning more into your view. “What did you say?”

“Ah, it's nothing.” You shove at his chest with a small laugh. “Give me some space, Caleb. You know I'm holding a knife, right?”

But as soon as you say this, you feel an odd pressure on your wrist. Your hand lets go of the knife and it clatters on the marble countertop.

“Caleb– ?”

He turns your body to face him, your back against the counter as he tilts his head to the side.

“Go on.”

“I wasn't going to say anything, seriously!” You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look away from him.

He didn't know exactly what you were going to say from just a few letters…right?

He grabs your chin, turning your head to face him. “Don't look away from me.” He jerks his chin up as he looks down at you. “Go ahead, say what you were going to say. I'm waiting.”

Embarrassment along with…something else was boiling in the pit of your stomach and you let out a low, panicked whine, lightly stomping your foot.

Suddenly, you felt like you couldn't say anything. So tongued that you just kept your mouth shut.

A sharp laugh escapes Caleb and his grip tightens around your chin. “Alright, brat. You really don't want to say it?” He hums, eyes flitting from yours to your lips. “Then I guess that means…no braised chicken tonight?”

“Huh–” you owlishly blink at him, before finally coming back to life. “That's not fair–!”

“Then…Say. It.” Caleb clicks his tongue, slowly leaning forward so his forehead rests against yours.

“I…ugh.” You sigh, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “I'm sorry…daddy.”

“Good girl.” He hums with a content smile, dipping his head down to lightly peck your lips before suddenly, he's gone. “Now get back to your smoothie.”

Your face was red as you stared at his back. How the hell was he so unphased!?

That's so unfair.

But as you puff out your cheeks in annoyance, you notice how one of his hands is balled up into a fist and his ears are a pretty shade of red.

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

They Knew

Schlatt x gn!reader Summary: Second part to this! Schlatt takes you back to his after the bar. After all these years you're finally together in the ways you always hoped, until Schlatt's anxiety gets the best of him. Warnings: Please let me know if you find any gendered language, I haven't edited this fully yet. Swearing, making out, allusions to sex. I'm gonna torture everyone and make you wait longer for the smut

You don't remember getting out of the cab, or stumbling your way drunk through the doors of Schlatt's family home, still locking lips as you cling onto each other and giggle. He shushes you as he laughs, as he stumbles his way down the hallway towards his bedroom.

"Not very subtle you two are," a kind voice laughs from the kitchen as his mum flicks on the lights and gives him a faux stern look as the pair stumble in. Her eyes drift to you and in an instant she's in front of you, her hands are on your shoulders as she pulls you in for an excited hug.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," she says excitedly as she pulls back, hands still on her shoulder as she takes you in "oh dear look at you," she says getting a bit choked up as she takes you in, "I always knew you'd grow up to be a beautiful young woman."

"Mom come on," Schlatt grumbles embarrassed as you laugh softly next to him, making familiar pleasantries with his mum. She steps back and takes the sight of the two of you in, standing in her kitchen, like you did so often when you were kids. Now, here you were again, by some miracle, in her kitchen once again, all that time having flown by.

He hears his mum open the door before he can make his way down stairs, cringing to himself as he hears the surprised greeting she gives you.

“Oh! Hello dear,” she says sweetly as she opens the door and takes you in, “who might you be?”

You laugh nervously as you adjust your bag on your shoulder, giving the woman a polite smile, “hi Mrs schlatt -“

He cuts you off as he leaps down the stairs, sliding in between you and his mum, “this is Y/N mum,” he says, “they’re a -“ his voice stuttering in his throat as he takes you in, staring up at him, dreading the words coming from his mouth, “friend from school.”

“Mmm,” his mum chuckles behind him as she fails to stifle her laugh, “friend from school he says.”

"Come on," Schlatt groans as he stumbles a bit drunk, resting a hand on your waist, "you can talk in the morning."

"Oh in the morning huh?" she says as she raises an eyebrow at her son, who in turn groans as his cheeks flush, "alright alright" she laughs putting her hands up in surrender "I'm leaving."

"You're so embarrassing" Schlatt groans to his mum as he grabs your hand, tugging you towards his bedroom door.

"I'm just gonna say one I told you so" she says to Schlatt in a sing song voice as she walks up the stairs "'I don't like her mum' you used to say, but I always knew"

He pulls you into his bedroom as he groans, pushing the door shut as he grumbles "Jesus Christ!"

"She always knew huh?" you say teasingly as you look around his bedroom, stumbling slightly on your wobbly legs. It's a lot different than the last time you've been in here, but you've caught some of his streams before he moved out. It's comfortable, familiar, even though it's changed.

He watches you as you walk around his room, a longing in his chest making it ache. It's been so long since he's really been back, but watching you, move about his space with such familiarity makes him remember just how much you belong, how easily you fit into his life. How much he's missed you.

"I used to hate when she asked about you," he says in a soft voice as he approaches you, gently turning you in his arms as they snake around your waist.

You smile softly as you wrap your hands around his neck, "my family used to do the same."

"I used to get so embarrassed that they thought we were dating," he admits as he raises a hand to your face, cupping it gently as he rubs his thumb across your cheek. You've lost some of the baby fat you still had the last time he saw you, your face now littered with freckles etched into your skin from your time on the West Coast. Your time away from him.

"I did too," you whisper, words slightly slurred still, as you lean into his touch, "I didn't wanna be the kinda person to fall for their best friend... it was so cliche," You breathe as you look up at him, "but everyone knew."

"How was your date?" your mum beams at you as you walks through the door, throwing your shoes and coat off and dumping them on the ground.

You huffs and slink past her into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and grabbing an apple, the first thing you sees. "It wasn't a date," you remind them as you take a bite of your apple, keeping the fridge door open to cool your suddenly warm cheeks.

"Well how was your not date then?" she says excitedly, attracting the attention of your father who pops his head out of his office.

"How did the date go kiddo?"

"It wasn't a date," you groan as he sits down at the kitchen island, burying your face in your hands.

There's the sound of doors opening and closing upstairs as excited footsteps run to the top of the stairs, "how was your date?" your brother asks. "Is Jay still here?"

All you can do is groan as you feels your face burn, "I don't like him like that."

He nods as he pulls you closer, chest against chest, holding you, "yeah," he whispers as he leans closer, "they knew. I think I knew too."

The vulnerability in his voice makes you wanna cry, the longing in his eyes makes the tears actually well up as all you can do is connect your lips to his. This kiss is passionate and soft, gentle. There's an innocence to this kiss that surprises you both, different to the desperate flurry in the cab. Those young teens that were crushing on each other coming out as if it's the first time you've both kissed anyone. The kiss you both wish had been your first.

You stand there for an eternity, softly kissing, wrapped up in each others arms. Schlatt's grip on your waist is almost bruising as he holds you against him, afraid if he loosens it even slightly you'll vanish from his life again. It feels like a dream, having you in his arms like this, feeling your lips against his. It's something he thought of countless times when he was younger, long nights laying awake yearning for you, too scared to make a move. Too scared to mess it up and ruin everything.

He can't help but deepen the kiss, his need for you growing as he drags his tongue across your lips. You part your lips for him with a gentle hum of pleasure, your hand slipping under his shirt as you do, nails scratching against his stomach ever so slightly and making him shiver.

As he gently pushes his tongue into your mouth, he finds those anxious thoughts coming back, as they did every time he thought about this all those years ago. Your tongue is thick with the taste of alcohol and he suddenly remembers just how drunk you were only 30 minutes ago, stumbling out of the cab. Had you sobered up that much?

He pulls away just slightly, breath heavy against your lips as he hold on you loosens slightly as they drift to hold your hips. He takes in the way you sway slightly as you stand there, the way your hazy eyes flutter open and struggle to concentrate fully on his face. He meets your confused gaze with a look of desire and disappointment etched on his own.

He wants you so badly he feels like it's suffocating him. But he can't like this. You're both too drunk for this, you more so than him. He doesn't wanna ruin the first chance he gets to sleep with you, to have you in all the ways he dreamed of, because you were both drunk. He wants to take his time, show you how good he can be for you, how much you belong together.

He takes a deep, grounding breath as he takes your hand out from under his shirt and intertwines your fingers. "We should get you to bed doll," he whispers as his thumb rubs soft circles on the back of your hand.

He watches your face morph into one of surprise as you stare up at him. He has to look away, he's too weak to keep staring into your pretty doe eyes, wide and sweet staring up at him. "I thought you-"

"You look beat," he says as he forces himself to pull away, his hand still connected with yours as he walks towards his bed.

"Oh," is all you can manage.

The sound of giggles fill the room as you and Schlatt do your best to stifle your laughs. He's got some stupid Youtube video playing that he insisted was the funniest thing he's ever seen, that he just had to show you.

It obviously wasn't. But here the two of you were anyway, lounging in your bed together as you fell apart laughing. By 3am, everything is suddenly the funniest thing in the world.

There's movements outside your bedroom that go totally unnoticed by you both until there's a sharp knock at your door. You fall silent as you stare at Schlatt, both of you with nervous looks written all over your faces.

"Yeah?" you call out, as Schlatt bites his hand to stop himself from laughing again.

"If you two can't be quiet, Jay can't stay the night anymore," the annoyed voice of your father grumbles from the other side of the door.

"No!" you both call out as you sit up straight, scrambling to turn the video off. "No no, dad, we're sorry, we'll go to bed." You say as you turn the lights off, listening to your father grumble to himself as he walks back down the hall.

You lay in silence in your bed for a while, trying to force yourself to go to sleep. "We interrupted the poor guys beauty sleep," Schlatt mumbles next to you, and in an instant you're both falling apart giggling again.

Schlatt has never hated himself more, he thinks as he watches you peacefully sleeping. Here you are, laying in his bed, curled up next to him, looking like a fucking vision. Had he really just turned you down? Why the fuck did he do that?

He can imagine his 16 year old self ready to throttle him if he could go back in time and tell him what just happened, 'oh yeah you finally kissed Y/N, they were practically hanging off you and you sent them to bed.' Maybe he has gone crazy.

He knows he made the right choice, he wanted your first time together to be special, memorable, not just a drunken fuck. The longer he sat there staring at you, the more he thinks maybe he ruined the only chance he would get.

Your confession earlier wasn't really a confession... was it? Could he really rely on you saying that you used to get embarrassed when people thought you were dating as a confession of your current feelings for him. That was nearly 10 years ago now.

He lets out a shaky breath as he looks down at you, watching the way your nose twitches slightly as you sleep, and arm draped across his leg. It feels so right, to have you like this, but fuck if this whole night didn't make him feel sick with anxiety.

[pukefactory]

Dandy x Reader headcanons?

(Btw thanks for doing my Vee x anxious/awkward reader!)

Hello again, Anon! I’m glad you enjoyed the Vee headcanons—hopefully, you’ll like these Dandy ones too!

-ˋˏ ༻ FLORAL SHOPPE ༺ ˎˊ

✿ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Dandy as your boyfriend

✿ Character(s): Dandicus Dancifer (Dandy’s World), Pebble (Dandy’s World)

✿ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, SFW

✿ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

❀ Dandy tends to be possessive of the things he values, whether they are objects or other toons. He becomes overly attached quite easily, which can be bothersome to those who don’t understand him. In a romantic relationship, Dandy grows extremely attached to you, his partner. He dislikes spending too much time apart and becomes agitated if he doesn’t know where you are or if too much time has passed. He worries that something might happen to you, and that’s the last thing he wants. You can be sure he would travel to the ends of the earth just to find you.

❀ Dandy is known for his short temper, but you are one of the few who never experience his aggressive side. With you, he is a total sweetheart—far more patient and understanding than he is with anyone else. He is kind, gentle, and always there when you need him, making sure to remind you of that every day, no matter the circumstances. However, he is now much more likely to become hostile toward toons who don’t have the best opinions of you.

❀ For you, his sweetheart, he always sets aside the best items in his shop, reserving the ones he knows you love. He adores you so much that he even gives them to you free of charge—so long as you give him a kiss first. If any toon tries to purchase something Dandy has specifically saved for you, he will flat-out refuse, shaking his head and insisting that the item is not for sale.

❀ When Dandy is busy at his shop, you get to take care of the cutest pet rock around—Pebble! As Dandy’s partner, you quickly win Pebble over, and he eagerly follows you whenever Dandy is occupied. However, it sometimes feels like Pebble is the one in charge, as you can’t help but give in to his demands. With endless pets, treats, and walks, he’s always content after a day with you. Of course, Dandy is just as pleased when he sees how well you’ve cared for Pebble—rewarding you with a big kiss in return.

❀ When you’re both ready for some downtime, Dandy loves to sit with you and listen to classical music on his radio. Your tastes might not always align, but watching him wiggle his little feet to the rhythm is something you’d never take away from him—especially when he rests his head on your shoulder, smiling to himself. If it helps him unwind, you’re more than happy to listen along.

❀ Much to his dismay, Dandy is incredibly short and often has to use boxes and crates just to be visible over the counter in his store. When it’s time to restock or when he needs something from the top shelf, he usually stacks boxes to reach it—unless you’re around. Since you’re likely taller than him, you simply lift him up when he struggles to reach something. When you set him down, Dandy is visibly flustered, his embarrassment clear from his expression. He quickly mumbles a thank you before scurrying away.

❀ Dandy gets irritated when he sees you spending time with the other main characters, except for Astro and Pebble. He doesn’t have a high opinion of them and often tries to pull you away whenever he catches you talking or hanging out with them. Though he attempts to suppress his frustration, reminding himself that just because you’re friends with them doesn’t mean their less-than-ideal traits will rub off on you, his patience only lasts so long. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore and comes up with an excuse to drag you away. If you ask him why, he hastily insists that he needs you for something.

❀ When you least expect it, Dandy sometimes appears with a big plate of freshly baked goods, approaching you with a spring in his step and a wide grin. As you sit together and enjoy the treats, you ask him where they came from, and he proudly claims to have baked them himself. You almost believe him—until Sprout finds you both and starts yelling, chasing Dandy in a frenzy. It doesn’t take long to realize he actually stole them from Sprout and Cosmo and continues to do so despite their protests. In a panic, he urges you to eat quickly before Sprout catches up again.

❀ Dandy is likely the only toon who still tries to keep Gardenview in a presentable state, even though it was abandoned long ago. He keeps the lobby spotless and tends to the massive tree at its center, ensuring it remains watered and well-fed. His futile efforts fill you with a bittersweet sadness that twists into pity as you watch him care for something the public will never see again. One day, you decide to help him, and he’s overjoyed that you care enough to join him. As you clean together, he reminisces about the past—the shows, the memories, how much he misses it all. Though you can tell he’s still heartbroken, having you by his side makes it feel worthwhile. He’s grateful that you’re here. He loves you more than words can express.

❀ When night falls, you, Dandy, and Pebble sit beneath the large tree in the Gardenview lobby, gazing up at the stars. You and Dandy rarely speak during these moments, but the quiet companionship makes for a peaceful way to unwind. Still, you can’t help but wonder what’s on his mind as he stares at the sky, a distant expression on his face while holding your hand.

[stylesispunk]

The soldier in the armour | part iv

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Acacius put his plan on march, starting by sending you away with a sealing promise of returning back to you, but you cannot bear the thought of him fighting alone, and some plans are destroyed.

wc: 7k (lazy)

warnings: angst, age gap, mentions of miscarriage, blood, violence against women, power imbalance, kissing without consent, mentions of death. The events of this chapter happen on the same night.

a/n: Sorry for being so lazy about writing and updating lately. I'm just a teacher on her summer break. This one will be intense. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

gift credit to the owner

"Hold my hand," Acacius said, extending his arm toward you. You were sitting by the fountain, feeding the fish. The last couple of days had been torture for you, and he wanted nothing more than to shower you with acts of love from the deepest part of his heart.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a quiet determination that melted the tension in your chest. The cool breeze rustled the leaves above, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause.

Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. He gave a gentle squeeze, as if trying to transfer some unspoken strength to you.

"Come," he whispered, his voice a balm against the chaos of your thoughts. "Let me take you somewhere…”

You hesitated, glancing back at the rippling water, watching the fish dart beneath the surface. But the pull of his presence was stronger. You stood, your fingers still entwined with his, and allowed him to lead you away from the weight of the past few days.

He led you through a narrow corridor you didn’t recognize, its walls lined with ivy that crept in through tiny cracks. At the very end, hidden behind a heavy wooden door, Acacius paused. He glanced back at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“No one else knows about this place,” he murmured, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “It’s just for us.”

He pushed the door open with a soft creak, revealing a hidden courtyard tucked away from the rest of the villa. It was small, intimate, overgrown with wildflowers and shaded by an ancient olive tree whose twisted branches reached out like protective arms. The air smelled of lavender and sun-warmed stone, and the only sounds were the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant song of cicadas at dawn.

Acacius turned to you, his expression softening. “I come here when I need to feel... whole again.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, lingering. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, it could help you too.”

There was a strange tone on his voice, as if he was lingering to your presence before slipping away from you, but you decided to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"I know you're worried” you whispered, looking up at him to meet his gaze, smiling softly “but I’m gonna be fine. I’ll recover from this someday.”

“Can I confess you something?” He asked almost ashamed of the question

You nodded, inviting him to speak his truth.

"This is embarrassing for a general but I'm really scared."He confessed, “I…I have someone to lose this time"

Your breath hitched and sudden wave of anxiety crept into your bones.

"You won't lose me" you reassured, caressing his checks with your fingertips.

"From all the battles I fought. Falling in love with you came easily to me...I thought it was going to be difficult for a man like me to be deserving of someone like you.

"This sounds like a goodbye and I don't like that tone in your voice." You said, voice breaking at the thought.

“You know things could go wrong-“

“They will not.” You interrupted, reassuring him once again.

“Allowing myself to know you and love you has been the bravest thing I've ever done," he whispered, his voice trembling just enough for you to hear the depth of his fear, and his love.

Before you could respond, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you gently but urgently toward him. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as if he were pouring every feeling inside on it, every hidden feeling into that single, breath-stealing moment. The world around you seemed to dissolve, the rustling leaves, the distant cicadas, all fading into the background as the warmth of his mouth ignited something deep within you.

Your heart raced, the anxiety still humming in the edges of your mind, but his touch grounded you, as always. You let your fingers trail through his hair, pulling him closer, as if anchoring him to this promise you both silently made.

You won't lose me. We won’t lose each other.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless, hearts pounding in the same rhythm, at the same time. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to memorize this moment, to etch it into his soul.

Then, without warning, he kissed you again, this time with a raw urgency that stole the air left from your lungs. His hands slid from your jaw down to your waist, gripping you as though he could mold your bodies into one. His fingertips dug into your skin, tracing every curve, every inch he could reach, as if committing the feel of you to memory.

You responded in kind, your hands roaming over his shoulders, his back, clutching at the fabric of his tunic like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. The heat between you was electric, a fire burning bright against the looming shadow of what was to come.

When he finally pulled back again, his breath was ragged, his lips lingering against yours for a fleeting second longer. His hands framed your face now, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks in contrast to the urgency of moments before. His gaze was heavy, filled with a thousand words he couldn’t seem to say.

He leaned in, pressing one lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime." He whispered, nosing your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime. Since the day you saved me from the bathtub and sword you would love me." You whispered the same words back because you meant them.

He smiled against your neck, feeling his eyes watering already. For a man of a thousand battles these shows of affection tended to seen as a sign of weakness. But by your side he learnt about the vulnerability that it came when you loved someone.

You smelled like calm lavender, and your souls interviewed in an unbreakable thread destined to meet in every single lifetime.

You were his person; the best Rome had ever given him back for all the duty and sacrifice. It broke his heart to send you away.

He didn’t fear death anymore, but not seeing you again broke him.

Acacius helped you up, his strong arm supporting you, your heart still ached with the lingering sensation of his words, his love, his devotion. You walked together, the world outside the villa seeming quieter. His hand remained gently wrapped around yours.

When you reached back to the villa, the air felt heavy, as if something was waiting for you there. The grand doors opened to reveal Lucilla standing near the font, her hands trembling slightly as she stood motionless, her gaze distant. Her expression was clouded with worry, yet there was an undeniable sorrow in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” you asked, stepping forward, concern flooding your chest as you glanced between her and Acacius.

Lucilla turned her head slowly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"They are here" she said, painfully ignoring your questions as she looked at Acacius.

"It's time" he said, painfully, avoiding looking at you for a moment, then he glanced at you "Look. They are some of my men. They are here to take you out-“

"I don't want to leave" you protested, coming to Lucilla, "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me"

 You stepped back, your heart twisting painfully as you listened to Acacius, walking to your mother.

"I don't want to leave," you protested again, your voice trembling. You reached for her, the distance between you growing wider with every passing second. "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me."

Lucilla’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for a moment, she looked as though she might give in. But the sorrow on her face deepened, and she shook her head gently. "I cannot, my dear. I failed Lucius once." Her voice cracked as she spoke his name, a deep, haunting sadness settling over her. "I won’t fail you too. Not again."

You felt the sting of her words like a dagger in your chest. She was leaving you, just like she had left him. The memories of her absence in the darkest moments of your life, when you were fighting for survival, flashed before your eyes, and the thought of repeating that same pain was unbearable.

"So, you're failing me now?" you asked, the sharpness in your tone betraying the hurt you felt. Your breath was ragged as you held back tears, frustration and confusion bubbling up inside you.

Lucilla stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for you, but she stopped just short of touching you. "Oh no," she whispered, shaking her head. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you to this. If you're away, Geta won’t be able to use you as a tool against Acacius or me. I can't risk you being taken from me as he was."

The words stung, but in them, you realized the depth of her fear. She wasn’t abandoning you, she was trying to protect you, to keep you safe in a world where everything felt uncertain and dangerous.

"But I don’t want to be safe without you," you said softly, your voice breaking. "I can't go alone.”

Lucilla looked at you, her gaze softening for a brief moment, but the fear in her eyes remained. "I love you too much," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And I can't watch you suffer here.”

Acacius stood behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. His presence was a steady anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. He knew how hard this was for you, but his silence spoke volumes. He understood what it meant to love and lose, and now, he was offering you something that felt like the only way forward.

Lucilla’s voice quivered as she took a step back, her hands clenched at her sides. "I cannot go with you... but I will wait for you here. And I will pray that one day you come back to me. That we both do."

You felt as though your heart was being torn in two—torn between the woman who had given you life and the man who had become your lifeline. The conflict swirled in your chest, but all you could do was nod, unable to find the right words.

"I love you," you whispered softly to her, your voice breaking as the tears finally fell.

Lucilla gave you a sad, bittersweet smile. "I love you too, my darling. Always."

You turned to Acacius, your heart sinking at the pained expression that crossed his face as his gaze shifted from you to the three men who had appeared in the distance. His posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing as they approached with purposeful strides.

The moment felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath. His soldiers had arrived. The plan was set in motion. The urgency of the situation weighed down on both of you, but there was something else, something unspoken in the way Acacius held himself. His pain, too, was palpable. As much as he had sworn to protect you, he knew what this moment meant. The time for goodbyes was closing in, and there was no turning back.

"Acacius..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached for his hand. But he stepped back slightly, his jaw tightening as his men neared.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, his eyes full of regret and determination. "You need to go. Now."

The men stopped in front of him, their faces unreadable but their posture betraying the tension of the moment. Acacius addressed them with a tone that brooked no argument, his voice firm but clipped.

"Prepare the horses," he commanded, and one of them nodded before heading off to carry out his orders.

You looked at Acacius, pain flickering in your chest as you realized that the next few moments would change everything. The world you had known was slipping away, and there was no going back to the life you had before.

"You’re leaving me, aren’t you?" you asked, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

Acacius looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but his gaze softened when he saw the hurt in your eyes. "No. I’m not leaving you." His voice was low and full of certainty, though there was a storm of emotions raging behind those words. "I’ll never leave you. But I need you to trust me now."

You nodded, though the uncertainty in your chest remained. His men were getting ready, and you knew that there was no time left to hesitate.

"Promise me you’ll come to get me back," you said quietly, the words more of a plea than a command.

Acacius stepped closer, his hand brushing the side of your face, his thumb tenderly tracing over your skin. "I swear," he said, his voice raw and filled with emotion. "I’ll come back for you. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we’re together again."

The words were like a lifeline, but the storm of emotions raging in your chest made it hard to hold on to them. You wanted to believe him more than anything, but the world was so unpredictable, and you knew better than to expect anything in these dark times.

As Acacius turned to give orders to his men, you felt the weight of the world crashing down on you, the finality of this moment settling into your bones. You wanted to run to him, to beg him to let you stay, but you couldn’t, because deep down, you knew what he was doing was necessary.

This was bigger than the two of you.

Acacius cupped your face once more, his eyes soft but heavy with the weight of what was to come. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of promises and unspoken fears. His touch was tender, like it was the last thing he could give you before everything changed.

"Be safe," he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and full of urgency. "No matter what happens, remember that I will always love you."

Your heart ached as his words sank in, the depth of his devotion resonating through every fiber of your being. You nodded, though your throat tightened, unable to find the words to express what you felt. His love, his promise, were everything you had left to hold on to in this fleeting moment.

He stepped back slightly, his hand still resting on your cheek, and without another word, he helped you onto the horse. His movements were swift and precise, his touch strong but careful as he steadied you in the saddle. His gaze never left yours, filled with a quiet desperation, as though he could somehow will the situation to change with just his stare.

As he stood next to the horse, his hand resting on the reins, he gave a final, lingering look, as though imprinting you into his memory. Then, with a slow exhale, he spoke again, his voice filled with finality.

"Trust in me," he said, his eyes intense. "No matter what happens, trust that I will find a way back to you."

His men began to move in the background, preparing to take you away. Acacius placed one last kiss on your forehead, a soft, lingering touch that felt like it was marking the end of a chapter. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his presence, remained with you, even as he pulled away and nodded to his soldiers.

With a final glance, he stepped back, his face a mixture of sorrow and determination. His hand reached out toward you one last time, as if he wanted to pull you into his arms, to hold you just a moment longer. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

"Go," he said quietly, the word almost a command, but it carried so much emotion that it cut deep.

As the men took the reins of your horse and started moving you away, you cast one last look over your shoulder. Acacius stood there, still watching you, his face a mask of stoic resolve but his eyes betraying the pain that he had hidden behind his duty.

And then, as you were carried further away, the world around you began to blur. The sound of horses’ hooves pounding against the earth, the rustling of the wind, it all faded as you focused on the one thing that remained clear.

As the path beyond you seemed to haunt you, you tightened the cloak around your shoulders, its coarse fabric doing little to shield you from the chill that seeped into your bones. Every step away from the villa felt heavier and suffocating, each one pulling you farther from Acacius, your mother, and Lucius. The road stretched ahead, but your mind remained trapped in the past, tangled in memories and regrets.

You couldn’t shake the image of Acacius’s eyes, the way they softened when he looked at you, or the feel of his lips pressed against your forehead. The smell of lavender on his neck that seemed to lullaby you into sleep every time he wrapped his strong arms around you. Your heart ached thinking about your mother, her face etched with sorrow and strength as she pushed you to safety. And Lucius, your brother, the rightful emperor of Rome, forced to live as a slave under a name that was never his.

As Acacius's men guided you through the winding paths, the weight of your separation grew unbearable. You were being secured by Acacius’s army, hidden away from the dangers that loomed, but it felt more like a prison than protection. You were trapped in the middle of something larger than yourself, and the distance only amplified the helplessness curling in your chest.

Meanwhile, back at the villa, Acacius stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the direction you had disappeared. His heart clenched painfully, the hollow ache of your absence settling deep within him. A single tear escaped down his cheek, betraying the stoic facade he tried to maintain. The emptiness in his chest felt insurmountable, as if a piece of him had been torn away.

You were the Achilles heel on his life, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being away from his protection.

Lucilla, seeing the turmoil etched across his face, stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong, like her father” she whispered, her voice steady despite the tears glistening in her own eyes. “And you will find your way back to her.”

Acacius’s jaw tightened, his hand coming to rest over Lucilla’s in silent acknowledgment. The touch sent shivers down his spine; it wasn’t love but understanding. The both of you letting go your heart away.

His eyes never wavered from the path you had taken, his heart silently vowing that no matter what, he would find you again.

Beneath the cloak, you knew you hadn’t far away from the villa. Just one bold movement and you could go back.

There was a weight that became heavier to bear. Acacius would risk his life to free an empire from its tyranny, and perhaps the power would go back to your family while your mother would get stuck in the middle and Lucius real identity would display.

Suddenly, the weight of it all became unbearable. Without thinking, you yanked on the reins, bringing the horse to a skidding halt. The men guarding you shouted in alarm, but their voices were distant echoes compared to the roaring in your ears. You leapt off the horse, your feet hitting the ground hard, and before they could react, you were running, running back towards the villa, towards the people you couldn’t abandon.

"Stop! Come back!" Acacius's men called after you, their voices laced with desperation. But you didn’t listen. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold.

you couldn’t turn your back on them. Not now. Now after all.

You were stronger than that. You were the daughter of Maximus Decimus, a man of honor.

You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold. The wind tore at your cloak, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your feet pounded the dirt path. Every step closer to the villa felt like shedding a layer of fear, replaced by a fierce, unyielding resolve.

The villa loomed in the distance; it brought a strange comfort to your heart. Your mind raced faster than your legs, what if you were too late? What if Acacius or your mother were already in danger? The thought spurred you on, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the aching in your legs.

Behind you, the shouts of Acacius’s men grew fainter, their figures shrinking against the horizon. But your heart was set, you belonged there, in the thick of it, facing whatever fate awaited alongside those you loved. As the gates of the villa came into view, your heart pounded not from exhaustion, but from the sheer force of your determination.

You were almost there.

"Acacius!" you shouted, breathless as you reached the entrance. As soon as he came into view, you crashed into him, and he caught you effortlessly, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt like home.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was hushed, desperate, his hands moving to cradle your face, as if he needed to be sure you were real.

"I can't-" you gasped out, struggling to steady your breath. "Don't ask me to run away while you stay here. Please, don’t."

His fingers traced your jaw, his forehead pressing against yours as he exhaled shakily. "I can’t put you in danger," he whispered. "I won’t."

You closed your eyes, your breath mingling with his. His warmth surrounded you, grounding you, but the ache in your chest only grew stronger.

"How?" you whispered, searching his eyes. "How can I leave when you will be here fighting?

Acacius’s jaw clenched. "You know what will happen if you stay—"

"And you know what will happen if I go!" You pulled back slightly, forcing him to see the determination burning in your eyes. "I grew up in a world where privilege was handed to me until it wasn’t. My heart was humble until it wasn’t. I never realized how greedy I could be until I met you, until my heart started beating for you. I want everything that comes from you—your words, your breath, your smile, your heart, you. And if there is a chance, they take you from me, then I’d rather meet the spirits myself than live in a world where you don’t exist."

His breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw something break in him. A vulnerability so raw it threatened to consume you both. His hands trembled against your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn’t realized had fallen.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t make this harder for me."

Your heart twisted painfully. "Then don’t make it harder for me, either. You already know how voiceless women are here. Let me make my choice for once."

His eyes darkened with conflict, with love, with fear. And then, without another word, he crushed his lips against yours. it was a desperate, aching plea. A promise. A surrender.

When he pulled away, his breath was ragged, his hands still cupping your face as though afraid you’d disappear.

"Then stay," he whispered. "And if the gods are kind, we will survive this together."

But you were afraid the gods had never been kind to lovers like you.

Lucilla watched the exchange in silence before stepping forward. "My child," she said gently, "I know you are willing to risk your life for those you love. But this is not a fight you can win with your heart.”

You turned to her, desperation burning in your eyes. "I know this villa better than anyone. I grew up here. I know every passage, every hidden corridor. If I can get to Lucius, I can free him. We can hide. We can escape and Acacius and his army will free Rome."

"No," Acacius said immediately, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

"He’s my brother!" you argued.

"And what happens when you get caught?" Lucilla’s voice was softer, but no less firm. "You think Geta or Caracalla will show mercy to you? He’ll use you against us, just as he always intended."

Acacius tightened his grip on you. "You are the only thing keeping me from turning this entire city to dust. If something happens to you, I won’t stop. I won’t care about the cost."

You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. "Then let me help you. Let me help Lucius."

"The best way to help is to stay safe," Lucilla insisted. "We will find a way, Acacius-“

“Lucius will refuse Acaciu’s help.” You interrupted, “He took the city he was in, but I’m his sister.”

Acacius's jaw tightened, his eyes dark with frustration and the fear it came when danger seemed to follow you. He shook his head. "That’s exactly why you can’t go. You think he’ll just follow you? Lucius is stubborn. He won’t leave. He won’t abandon his pride, even for you."

"He will if I make him see reason," you pressed, your voice trembling with conviction you wanted to believe. "If I remind him who he is, what he stands for. He’ll listen to me."

Lucilla exhaled sharply, stepping between you and Acacius, her presence like a steady force in the eye of the storm. "And if he doesn’t? If he refuses, what then?”

You flinched at her words. The weight of this pressed down on you, but you refused to let it break you. "Then at least I’ll have tried," you whispered. "At least I won’t sit in hiding while the people I love fight for their lives."

Acacius turned away from you abruptly, running a hand through his hair, his breath ragged. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath before spinning back toward you. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you know what you’re asking me to do?" His voice cracked, raw and unguarded. "You’re asking me to send you straight into the lion’s den. To just…juts let you walk into danger while I stand back and watch."

"I’m asking you to trust me," you said, your voice fierce despite the tears burning your throat. "I have spent my whole life being protected, shielded from the ugliness of this world. But I am not some delicate thing to be tucked away. If we are to have any future at all, we must take risks."

Acacius closed his eyes, as if trying to drown out your words, to quiet the war inside him. Lucilla placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. "She is her father's daughter," she murmured, her gaze heavy with understanding. "You cannot change her mind when it is already set."

He let out a shaky breath, his hands curling into fists before he finally looked at you again. "If you go, you do not go alone."

Your breath hitched. "Acacius-"

"You do not go alone," he repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I will not let you face this without protection."

Lucilla nodded. "I know someone who can get you into the cells unnoticed. But you must understand-this is your one chance. If something goes wrong, there will be no second attempt. No coming back for you."

Your heart pounded as the full weight of the decision settled in. There was no turning back now.

"Then I will not fail," you promised, meeting Acacius’s gaze.

But even as you said the words, you knew that fate was a cruel, unpredictable thing.

“I will wait for you at the end of the dungeon” He explained, “Once you free Lucius, both of you, especially you will come and going to go away. Then when tomorrow came, I’ll get everything settle for what’s coming.”

Lucilla’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes something like resignation. "We don't have time to argue anymore," she said finally. "If you're going to do this, you must go now."

Acacius stepped closer, his hands gripping your arms as if he could anchor you to him. His touch burned, searing into your skin, branding you with the weight of his worry. "Promise me," he murmured. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t hesitate. The moment Lucius is free, you run."

You swallowed hard, nodding, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise.

Lucilla moved toward the entrance, glancing over her shoulder. "I will send word to the one who will take you inside. Wait for him by the servants' passage near the western wall. And keep your head down."

Acacius leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "Be careful," he whispered. "I need you to come back to me."

You lingered there for a moment, memorizing the feeling of his hands on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, the way he looked at you as if you were something worth fighting for.

"Mia vita" he called out, stopping you on your tracks to kiss you softly, the pulled back slightly “Please don't let this to be our last kiss"

"We still have a life to live together" you smiled against his lips, peeking his lips once more "at peace this time"

"I will find you" he promised, peeking your lips once again, savoring every single second of this. "I'll be waiting for you at the end of the dungeon."

You nodded, feeling shivers down your spine. He kissed your lips again as if couldn’t let go because of the fear, tasting the sweet flavor of fruits on them, lingering to the feeling that in a few hours he would free Rome from the tyranny and escape with you to a happy ending, a happy life.

"Be careful, love" he whispered as you walked from his grasp.

Then, with one final look, you turned and disappeared into the shadows.

And as you did, Acacius stood still, watching you leave, his fists clenched at his sides.

He had never felt so powerless.

The night stretched long and cold as you moved through the villa’s outer corridors, keeping close to the stone walls. Every shadow felt like a threat waiting to cut you in half, every sound a warning. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself forward. Your mother’s contact was waiting near the western wall as promised, a hooded figure who barely looked at you before motioning for you to follow.

"This way," he whispered, leading you through a narrow passage. "The guards are fewer tonight, but that won’t last long."

You nodded, pressing yourself deeper into the cloak wrapped around your shoulders. The passage led downward into the lower levels of the coliseum, where the scent of damp stone and burning torches thickened the air. With each step, the reality of what you were about to do settled heavier in your chest.

Finally, the man halted near a rusted iron gate, peering around the corner before motioning for you to stop. "Beyond here, you’re on your own. You already know where the cells, be fast my lady.”

You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before slipping through the gate. The corridor was dimly lit, flickering torchlight casting shadows along the stone walls. You kept low, moving carefully. Every instinct screamed at you to hurry, but you couldn’t afford mistakes.

Then you saw him.

Lucius sat in the farthest cell, his head down, his hands bound in front of him. His tunic was dirtied and torn; his face shadowed with exhaustion. But he was still alive.

"Lucius," you whispered urgently, pressing yourself against the bars. His head snapped up, eyes widening at the sight of you.

"By the gods," he breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"Freeing you," you said, already fumbling with the lock. "We don’t have much time, Acacius has a plan, but we need to go now."

Lucius let out a short, breathless laugh. "Acacius? And here I thought you had come to your senses and abandoned him.”

You shot him a glare, your fingers working as quickly as possible. "Do you want to fight about this, or do you want to walk out of here alive?"

Before he could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall. Your breath caught.

The guards were coming.

You barely had time to think. With trembling fingers, you worked at the lock, gritting your teeth as the iron refused to give. Lucius shifted impatiently behind the bars, his gaze darting toward the approaching footsteps.

"Hurry," he muttered.

"I know," you hissed, forcing yourself to focus. The crude metal bit into your skin, but finally, with a sharp click, the lock gave way. You got the door open, and Lucius stepped out, shaking the stiffness from his limbs.

"We need to go," you whispered.

Together, you slipped into the shadows, pressing yourselves against the cold stone walls. The guards were close now, their voices carrying down the corridor. You gripped Lucius’s wrist, pulling him forward as you sprinted through the winding path of the dungeon.

Your breaths came fast and shallow, your heart hammering with every turn. The torches flickered wildly in the drafty halls, casting distorted shapes that sent chills up your spine.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reached the end of the dungeon, the meeting place Acacius had promised.

But he wasn’t there.

You came to a sudden stop, chest heaving as your eyes darted around the empty space.

"Where is he?" Lucius whispered harshly.

You didn’t answer. He should be here.

He said he would be here. You thought.

A cold feeling crept up your spine. Something was wrong.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. Think. Think faster. Acacius wasn’t here. That meant something had gone wrong. That meant-

“We have to move,” you whispered, gripping Lucius’s arm.

He gave you a sharp look, but didn’t argue. You took the lead, slipping through the dimly lit corridor, your body tense, ears straining for any sound. The dungeon air was thick with dampness, every breath heavy in your chest.

Acacius had told you to wait. But waiting was a death sentence now.

He could be in trouble. He could be dead.

No. You forced the thought away. Acacius was strong. He was waiting for you somewhere else. He had to be.

Lucius kept pace beside you, his voice low and urgent. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” you said, scanning the hallway. “I know another way.”

A narrow servant’s passage was carved into the farthest wall, one you had used as a child to sneak out when the world inside these walls had felt too suffocating. You yanked open the hidden door, pushing Lucius through before slipping inside yourself. The stone closed behind you, sealing you both in darkness.

The passage was narrow, forcing you to move single file. Your fingers trailed the rough stone as you navigated through the twisting tunnel, the air cool and stale. You could hear Lucius’s uneven breathing behind you, but neither of you spoke.

You reached the end and pressed against the wooden panel that led to the outside. For a long moment, you hesitated.

If Acacius wasn’t here, it meant something had shifted in the plan. But you had no time to figure out what.

You had to keep moving.

Bracing yourself, you pushed the door open and stepped into the night.

The night air was a fleeting whisper of freedom before it was ripped away.

The moment you and Lucius stepped beyond the hidden passage, torches flared to life, illuminating the ring of imperial guards waiting for you. The glint of their drawn swords was the only warning you had before rough hands seized you.

Lucius struggled, his fury a silent storm beside you, but he was outnumbered. A soldier slammed the hilt of his sword into his stomach, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

“Lucius!” you shouted, lunging toward him, but another set of hands wrenched you back.

A grizzled guard stepped forward; his expression smug beneath his bronze helmet. “Did you really think you could slip away unnoticed?” he sneered.

You twisted against their grip, but they held you firm. “Where is Acacius?” you demanded. “What have you done to him?”

The guard chuckled darkly. “Worry for yourself, little dove.” He leaned in, his breath rank against your cheek. “Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason.”

Your stomach twisted. Geta. He knew.

The guards yanked you and Lucius apart, dragging him in the opposite direction. He thrashed violently, eyes burning with desperation as they pulled him away from you.

“Stay strong,” he shouted. “Don’t give them what they want!”

Then he was gone.

You fought harder, but it was useless. The last thing you saw before they forced you forward was the blood-red banners of the empire swaying in the cold night air.

The throne room was suffocating with tension, the air thick with the scent of oil and burning torches. Acacius and Lucilla stood before the imperial dais, their bodies rigid as Emperor Geta lounged with lazy arrogance in his gilded chair. Caracalla stood beside him, his fingers curling and uncurling as if barely restraining his temper.

The moment Acacius learned you had been captured, something inside him had snapped. His presence alone carried a storm, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides, the veins in his neck straining with suppressed fury.

“Where is she?” Acacius demanded, his voice like thunder cracking through the hall.

Geta smirked, swirling the wine in his goblet. “Who?” he mused, feigning innocence. “Oh, you mean your wife.” He sighed dramatically. “A shame, really. I expected more from you, Acacius. But in the end, even the great general is brought to his knees for a woman.”

Acacius took a menacing step forward, only for Lucilla to press a warning hand against his arm. “You do not want to do this,” she whispered, though even her voice carried the edge of a threat.

Caracalla’s lip curled; his rage barely restrained. “You made a mistake, Acacius. You should have fled with her when you had the chance.”

“I will get her back,” Acacius growled. His eyes snapped to Geta, cold and unrelenting. “Emperor Geta, torture me if you want, but don't dare to lay a finger on my wife.”

Geta’s expression darkened at that word.

His knuckles went white around the goblet before he set it down with deliberate slowness. “But I will,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. He walked towards Acacius, stepping closer, his grin cruel. “Now, I’m going to see her.”

Acacius lunged, but the guards were already between them, forcing him back as Geta strode from the room. The moment the doors slammed shut behind him, Acacius let out a roar of frustration. He whirled, striking one of the marble pillars with his fist hard enough to crack the stone.

Acacius’s chest heaved with each ragged breath, but when he turned to face Lucilla next to him, his eyes were filled with something worse than fury.

Desperation.

His hands clenched into fists again. “I will kill him. I swear it.”

The cell was damp and smelled of rust and decay. You hit the ground hard as the guards shoved you inside, the impact jolting through your knees and elbows. The cold stone bit into your skin, but you barely felt it, your mind was reeling, heart hammering in your chest.

"You should have stayed where you belonged," one of the guards sneered from the other side of the iron bars. "Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason."

You lifted your head, eyes burning with defiance. "I still have you to make him beg for mercy."

The guard scoffed but did not reply. He only smirked, slamming the barred door shut with a loud clang before disappearing down the corridor, his footsteps fading into the darkness.

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to sit upright. Every part of you ached, but pain was the least of your concerns.

You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your face as tears threatened to spill. But you wouldn’t cry.

Instead, you allowed yourself a moment to gather your strength. Tomorrow was coming, and with it, the arena and whatever fate awaited Acacius. Whatever happened, you wouldn’t let Geta break you.

Then, a sound.

Footsteps. Slow. Measured.

A chill ran down your spine.

You knew who it was before you even saw him.

The door creaked open, and there he stood.

Emperor Geta.

The first thing he did as he took glance of you was grabbing your face forcefully with his hand, forcing you to spare him a glance. He wouldn't even dream of seeing you like this, is disbelief, with your hair a mess, and bloody. You weren't made for a life like this, but now under these conditions, this was the closest he had come to have you.

"Escaping with that slave, my dear lady? You marrying Acacius felt less insulting than this." He said, looking dead into your shining orbits.

"Marrying you would an insult to myself. I would rather eat shit than be tied to you." You spatted.

Geta's smile widened as a cruel laugh escaped his lips as his studied your features. Your before soft skin seemed dirty by drops of blood and dirt. You were a delicate doll, but now smashed and crumbled.

Geta’s expression twisted, his smugness evaporating in an instant. His jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with rage. Before you could react, his hand lashed out, the sharp crack of the slap ringing through the chamber.

The force of the blow snapped your head to the side, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the floor. Your cheek stung, the pain radiating hot and angry, but it was nothing compared to the cold fury swelling in your chest.

Geta loomed over you, his breath heavy, his hand still trembling from the strike. “You will not speak to me that way,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “You forget who holds your life in his hands. You forget who I am. I'm the emperor and you're just a prisoner granted privileges because of your mother and Acacius" his face got close to you, "but now you're a mere slave accused of treason."

You spit on his face. The anger and loathing consuming like a fire burning your body.

Geta took his hand to his face, cleaning your spit with disgust written on his face. You had ended with his patience and he couldn't bear it anymore.

Just a few hours ago you had been secured on Acacius big arms, surrounded by the faint scene of laurel and lavender that seemed to calmed you down.

Now the stink of dirt and humidity rusted your nostrils. You wanted to close your eyes and feel the lavender on your nose, Acacius lips on your temple. You wanted him to save you, you were pleading the gods.

"Please stop this...let me see him" you begged, your voice broken. "Don't hurt him."

Lifting your gaze to see if by chance there would be a tiny bit of sympathy dancing on his eyes, you face the coldest gaze you had ever seen.

"Acacius' life is on my will, your mother's...even that beloved gladiator of yours." He got closer once again, looking directly to your eyes, you felt his wine breath on your face, "Test my patience once again, my lady and I will snap my finger like this" he snapped his fingers in front of you, getting closer to your lips you can almost feel his on your and it felt repulsive "and all of them will be dead. All of them!"

You gritted in protest, the repulsion of his touch filling you with an instinctual fear that made your skin crawl. The air between you felt suffocating, and the words he spoke echoed in your mind like a distant nightmare, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, forcing you to remain still as his lips lingered too close to yours. The stench of wine and bitterness clung to him, every part of him an invasion to your thoughts, to your soul.

"Don’t you dare," you hissed, your voice trembling but filled with defiance. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of breaking you.

“You have no idea what I could give you,” Geta began, his voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of his authority. “Power, wealth, freedom to rule by my side as my wife. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of could be yours if only you’d open your eyes and choose me.”

You hold your gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips pressed forcefully against yours. The taste of wine and greed made your stomach churn, and every inch of your body screamed in protest. This was not love. This was a sick obsession, an attempt to break your will and twist your bones. You clenched your fists, refusing to let him see the fear creeping at the edges of your resolve.

"I would rather die than choose you," you spat, your voice full of venom.

“I don’t care what you want” he said, pulling away just to stand up, smiling cruelly down at you on the ground. "Chain her to the wall." He ordered the guards

Your despair filled the dirty dungeons "No, please. Don't" you squirmed under the men's hold "Let me go!"

The cold stone wall bit into your skin as the guards’ iron chains wrapped around your wrists, pulling you taut against the damp, dark dungeon. The echo of your cries was swallowed by the silence of the place, but inside, your fury burned with an intensity you had never known. You clenched your teeth, fighting the tears that threatened to fall, determined to stay strong.

"Goodnight, my princess," Geta’s mocking voice lingered in the air long after he was gone, a cruel reminder of his power over you.

Your screams followed geta's steps as he walked away from you. You were left there to drown in your own tears as you curse and whatever plan his Machiavellian mind has.

Your fingers tightened into fists, nails digging into your palms as you whispered a curse under your breath, a spell woven from the ancient words passed down through history. Soon the future of Rome would be defined and you were going to take charge of it.

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[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 11

Synopsis: Jason continues to stick around and take care of you.

Notes: I am so happy you guys liked the last chapter. She was my baby while I was sick. Moving forward, we are going to keep going with the comfort because it's just nice. Jason is very touchy in this chapter. I mentioned somewhere about Jason’s love languages and this chapter is covered in them. He is out here taking care of Reader the way he would want to be cared for (even if he won't admit it out loud). Enjoy!!

Masterlist

You spent the night tossing and turning, drifting between the realm of asleep and awake. Aside from a warm hand luring you back into the dream world, you don't remember much. When you do wake finally, it’s raining. You can hear it pattering against the window of your room, the cold of it seeping in where it can. Your hand reaches for the warmth you had felt through the night to find it gone. You open your eyes to find yourself alone. An achy loneliness claws at your throat for a moment until you hear a clattering followed by a muffled curse. There’s silence for a moment before movement continues.

You turn to look at your alarm, quickly reminded of the pains from the night before. 11:48. You don’t know what time you made it home or what time you actually fell asleep. You still feel exhausted, but you don’t know if you could drift off. You take your time sitting up in bed, staring at the covers as you push down a wave of nausea. You slide out of bed, movements slowed by short waves of dizziness. You’re cold the moment your feet touch the ground. You grab a zip-up sweater and some fuzzy socks. You slide the sweater over your shoulders gingerly and take your time to pull your socks as you listen to shuffling from the kitchen.

You move quietly out of the bedroom and toe your way down the hall, peaking around the corner to see the kitchen. Jason stands in front of your stove. The smell of bacon invades your senses, and your earlier nausea tries to show itself. You watch him as you quietly pull a stool from under the island and sit down. He moves easily through your kitchen and before you fully settle in your seat, he has a glass of water and a couple of pain pills in front of you. You glance at the items and then up at him. He cracks a fond smile at you and a tender gnawing feeling starts in your chest.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice just slightly gravellier than normal. You had only heard his voice like that once before when he took you to watch the sunrise on the bay. The memory warms you.

“I’m okay,” you say quietly tugging at the sleeves of your sweater where your arms rest on the counter. He catches your movement and leans across the island, grabbing your hands and pulling them slightly forward. He pushes your sleeves down. Twisting your hands this way and that, he examines the bruising with a disapproving frown.

“It’s okay if you’re not; you went through something traumatic,” He gives your hand a rub with is thumb before he sets your hands back on the counter and turns back to the stove, “I was worried, you were seriously out of it last night.”

Your mind flashes through everything from the moment you made it to your apartment. You feel warmth creep up your neck and you bury your face in your hands. God, he had practically seen you naked. Talk about skipping a few steps in a relationship. Over your embarrassment, you feel a flood of gratitude because, despite the vulnerable position you had been in, Jason never took advantage of you. You hear a clink as something is set down in front of you. You peek through your fingers to see a plate loaded with bacon, scrambled eggs, and fried potatoes. Your nausea flares again.

“I’m not hungry.” You say, swallowing around nothing.

“You feel sick?” he asks. You nod and he’s quick to respond.

“It’s because you’re starving. I know you didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday because you were working all day and you definitely haven’t had anything today.” He states. You drop your hands to squint at him suspiciously.

“How do you know I was working all day yesterday?”

“I called Jackie’s,” you open your mouth to complain but he keeps talking, “There was no way you were going to go to work today. You have a concussion. You need rest no heavy lifting and plenty of good food.” He nudges the plate closer to you.

“Oh, yes, bacon. The most healing food out there.” You pick up a piece and bite into it. Despite the nausea, it tastes amazing. You finish the piece and your nausea ebbs away. You glare at Jason for being right. He just smiles and turns to make himself a plate. One slice of bacon in your stomach and you take the pain meds he had gotten for you. As you’re gnawing on a potato, you notice that the TV is on, volume so low you hadn’t noticed it at first. It’s the news, something about a car chase earlier that morning. You take your plate and cup of water and settle on the couch, crisscross. You had thought Jason was going to join you, but you hear the sound of the kitchen faucet running.

“You don’t have to wash my dishes. I can do it.” You call out. You hear a scoff before he responds.

“I made the mess; I’ll clean it up.” He says. You sigh because you know that there were more dirty dishes in the sink than the ones that he used but you don’t have the energy to argue. You continue eating, zoning out on the TV. Jason sits next to you, your knee pressing to his thigh, when the news changes. The anchor woman’s sharp voice evoked urgency.

“Breaking News. This just in. The Penguin has been arrested on accounts of multiple homicides and involvement in a human trafficking ring run through his club The Iceberg Lounge. Late last night at a known body dumping sight just north of Aparo Park, The Red Hood was seen pulling a young woman from a warehouse just minutes after Penguin had left the scene. The GCPD knew about the dumping site but had no evidence connecting it to him until now. At the warehouse, Police found the body of Ted Jackson. Jackson has been wanted by police for months on accounts of sexual assault and homicide. His body was brutally mutilated and the woman’s official statement states that Red Hood was responsible. For those not aware, Red Hood has been playing by Batman’s rules of no killing for the last four years. Is this sudden change in ethics a bad sign for Gotham? Or has The Batman lost his hold on this vigilante? We’ll see what our commentators think after the break.”

You set your plate on the coffee table, appetite gone. You tip your head back against the couch and slouch with a sigh, eyes closing. You rub your hands against your face in frustration. You wish you could just forget last night but you can feel it, just hovering at the edge of your mind, ready to pounce if you were to relax even a little bit.

“You okay?” Jason asks again. You peek one eye at him from the cracks in your fingers.

“You going to keep asking me that?”

“Only until you give me an honest answer.” He gives you a knowing look and you drop your hands.

“I’m not but it won’t change anything. I’ll get over it.” He snorts at your comment, and you glare at him.

“We can make you a Gothamite yet.” He grins at you.

“Shut up,” You try to smack at his arm, but he catches your hand. He holds your hand softly and gently rubs over the scraps on your knuckles and fingers. They tingle but don’t hurt. Your mind slips for a moment to how you got them, knife in hand, dragged by the ankle.

No. You snap yourself out of it and pull your hand from his. You meanly press your hands together in your lap. You keep your chin tucked watching the way your fingers squish together. You can feel Jason staring a hole into your cheek but you ignore it. A strange awkward silence creeps into the space. You hadn’t known awkward silence with Jason, ever.

“So, Red Hood? Good thing he showed when he did, huh?” He finally says. There’s a weird forced nonchalant to the question and you wonder if maybe he’s a fan.

“No, that asshole,” you mumble under your breath. You feel a sudden unbridled anger towards that man that had been coming in through your window. It was his fault you got kidnapped and then he showed up just to ditch you outside. He didn’t even do anything!

Jason must have heard your words and tone as he lets out a shocked, “What?”

You shake your head because you had to explain how you’re feeling to Jason, you would have to explain a bunch of other stuff too. Mostly you didn’t want to tell Jason that it was you who had killed Ted Jackson, not Red Hood. You didn’t want Jason to look at you any differently than he usually does.

“It’s nothing. He’s a great guy, did his job and all that.” You say with a less than enthused tone. You can see in Jason’s eyes that he wants to question you on the matter but instead, you get a different question.

“Wanna watch a movie? Keep your mind off of everything?” you eye him like he might jump you with a different question. His brows raise, still waiting for an answer.

You finally answer, nodding, “Yeah, okay.” You drag your blanket from the other side of the couch and pull it into your lap. “Nothing action-y or gore please.”

Once you have the blanket settled, you glance at him to find him gleaming at you.

“What? What do you watch?”

“Pride and Prejudice?”

Your face crinkles and you respond, “Do you have no other personality? Just Jason, Pride and Prejudice fan.” He chuckles at your comment.

“Unless there’s something else you want to watch.”  You don’t have anything else in mind, so you concede with a head shake. He offers you the remote. You stare at it.

“Just look it up,” you tell him, still shuffling your blanket. He stares you down like he’s about to tell you something devasting.

“I’m going to be honest,” his tone serious, “I had a really hard time just finding the news this morning.” You laugh quietly into your hand.

“Don’t worry. I honestly didn’t even know I had the news.” You steal the remote from his hand and do a quick search through your streaming services. As the movie starts you snuggle back into your blanket, propping your feet on the coffee table. You lean over just slightly your shoulder pressing to his. He tenses for a moment and then relaxes again.

“I think it’s really funny that you suck with technology.” You whisper.

“I don’t suck at it. It just doesn’t make sense sometimes.” He whispers back to you like you’re in an actual movie theatre. You giggle into your blanket but quiet up, focusing on the movie. You don’t pull away from your touching shoulders and neither does he.

Jason does the opposite. He copies your slouch against the couch and props his feet on the table next to yours. The slouching pushes his shoulder tighter to yours and you just settle your head against his shoulder. Body relaxed against the heat of him again, you fade in and out of sleep. Moments of dancing, arguments in a drizzle of rain, and a warm body keep the cold dark corners of your mind at bay.

When you wake, you find yourself on your side, lying across the rest of the couch. Your legs had somehow ended up in Jason’s lap. You turn your head slightly just to watch him. His eyes focus on the TV as his hand moves up and down your calf, absentmindedly massaging the muscle before squeezing at your ankles, feet, and toes through your socks before repeating the process over. You take the time to just stare at him.

His black hair curls at the tips and you wonder if he styles it. You quickly brush the notion off because you can’t picture him doing that. He must have curly hair then. You follow the line of his face and smile at the intense stare he has on the TV. You pause at the scar on his cheek. Your old mental jar does rattle, although it’s not as loud as it usually is. Red Hood left you, Jason hadn’t. you still focus on the scar and your mind drifts to your conversation with the penguin.

“Do you have a job?” you ask suddenly. Jason glances at you out of the corner of his eye. The corner of his lip twitches up.

“Tired of me already?” he says as he gives your calf another squeeze before rubbing up and down.

“That’s not-” you pause for a second and close your eyes trying to collect your thoughts, “We’ve just never talked about it. Obviously, you know where I work. I don’t know where you work.” You don’t want to admit that Penguin, of all people, was making you question whether or not he was a criminal.

“I work in security.” He says easily.

“That’s beautifully vague.”

He chuckles at your comment, “A security subcontractor. I can make my schedule and only take on jobs I want.”

“Oh, like a mercenary,” you feel him tense at the word, “but you protect people instead of killing them.”

He shifts uncomfortably where he sits and you wonder if it’s you, so you try to pull your feet from his lap. His hand tightens around your ankle, keeping you there. You don’t think he realizes it.

“Yea, something like that.” He nods finally. “You should get a new door lock.” You want to roll your eyes.

“I can’t. This apartment is a rental.”

“You already changed your window locks and installed a shitty alarm system.” You snort.

“I didn’t-” you stop yourself, once again not wanting to tell Jason about Red Hood. “If you want to change my locks you can take it up with my landlord.” You offer instead of arguing.

He seems content with the offer, returning his gaze back to the TV with an “I will.”

Once the movie ends you stand to stretch, a slight twinge still in your back. You use the restroom and when you come back there’s a glass of water where your plate was, and Jason is wiping down the island with a rag.

“Will you stop cleaning my apartment?” you ask. He does a final wipe-down and shakes the rag over the trash.

“I’m stopping.” He rounds the island to stand in front of you. His hands find your arms, moving up a down slowly. “How you feeling?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not answering that.” Hands move down your arms to hold your hands and pull them up to his eyes. The sleeves of your sweater slide down enough for him to look at the bruises on your wrist again. You want to pull your hands away and brush off his staring, but you like the way his hands feel holding yours. Rough and warm. You’d let him hold you for hours if that’s what he wanted.

“We should get you some bruise cream. They still hurt?” he says finally.

“Only a little. What do you mean bruise cream? I thought you just waited out bruises.” He stops staring at your wrists to look at you. Your hands hang loosely between you two, but he doesn’t let go.

“You could but my grandfather used to use this stuff on me when I was younger, the bruise wouldn’t disappear, but it did make it hurt less. One of those natural remedies sort of thing.” It was rare that Jason talked about his family and rarer with a tone of fondness. He has the same happy look that he did when he told you about the best cookies in the world. You wonder if the same man is responsible for those.

“Okay, do you make it?” You don’t think you have any ingredients for magic bruise cream, but he shakes his head.

“We can buy it; I think you need some groceries too.” He squeezes your hands and lets go, “I made a list.” You blink at him.

“You made a list?” you ask incredulously.

“Yea, you want to come with me, or do you want to stay?” The easy way he’s managing your apartment and getting ready to go grocery shopping for you throws you for a loop but you're even more caught off guard by his question. You don’t really want to leave your apartment just yet. The thought of what could be lurking in the shadows outside is enough to make you sick. You don’t want Jason to leave either. You know he would come back but you don’t think you’re ready to be alone yet. He must see your worried mental debate.

“No rush on the decision. We can watch another movie while you think on it.” You shake your head at his offer.

“Why don’t we just have it delivered?” you feel selfish asking. You’re sure he wants to go out but if he’ll let you keep him longer, you want him to stay. He gives you a confused look.

“It's not pizza. It's groceries.” You laugh at the surety of the statement. Your unknown scrunched shoulders relax. You’re once again reminded of how out of the loop with technology Jason seems to be.

“Everything can be delivered now, especially in the city. I just need my…” you trail off. Your phone. You don’t remember the last time you saw it. Definitely not today. Last night before you taken? You pat at your bum like it’ll be in the back pockets that don’t exist on your PJs.

“Phone?” You finally finish your sentence. A look of recognition crosses Jason’s face. He walks over to your dining room table where there’s a pile of papers you hadn’t noticed before along with your phone on top of it.

“The commissioner stopped by to drop it off this morning. They found it in the warehouse last night. He also dropped off some extra information if you need it, help lines stuff like that.” You were shocked that the commissioner would offer resources for help but you guess Gotham has enough crazies as is. Your shock changes to confusion.

“My phone was in a different place than my purse?” Jason's brows furrow.

“What?”

“Last night, you had my keys. You said that they had found them in the warehouse and gave them to you. But if they found my phone in the warehouse it would’ve been somewhere else since they didn’t give you my phone last night.” Jason presses his lips together and nods along as you speak.

“Sound thought process to me.” He hands you your phone. You get the strange feeling that Jason is hiding something from you but there’s nothing in the conversation to hide so push down the thought. You settle on the couch and show him how to order groceries online. An hour later and halfway through The Notebook, your groceries are delivered. You try to help Jason bring them in but he shoos you off. Then you try to help put them and he shuffles you to one of the stools at the island. You watch him put away the groceries easily. You get the feeling he had a lot of time this morning while you were sleeping, enough to make a grocery list and know where everything in the kitchen went. You don’t feel uncomfortable with the idea like you thought you would. Jason wasn’t a strange man rummaging through your apartment. He was your friend (or something more? You seriously needed to talk about that) and he was looking into your world and taking care of it and you.

Groceries put away he comes to stand next to you. He easily pulls your stool out more and turns your seat. Your heart jumps at the display of strength but you ignore it. He has a small jar in hand and you can only assume it’s the bruise cream he was talking about. He opens it, sets it on the counter, and pulls one of your hands from your lap. His ever-gentle touches are back, pushing your sleeve up to your elbow. He dips his finger into the cream and swipes it onto the bruise. You gnaw at your inner cheek, periodically glancing between his face and his hands. His eyes focused like he was worried he could hurt you by accident at any given moment. You focus on his hands as his fingers rub the cream until the white becomes clear. He takes your other hand and repeats the process, Warm, sturdy, and tender hands caress your skin and your heart aches just a little with that gnawing emotion you don’t think too hard about.

His thumb rubs at your knuckles for a moment and his other hand dips back into the jar. Cold cream is dabbed into the bridge of your nose, startling you enough to tip backward, nearly falling off of the stool. Jason moves quicker than you anticipated. His hand wraps around your waist pulling you forward. Your legs spread, accommodating him as he accidentally pulls into your space. Your hand curls into his shirt at his stomach, where you had grabbed in momentary falling panic. You stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Careful,” he murmurs, “your nose is bruised.” He adds in explanation. His hold on your waist loosens but doesn’t remove his hand entirely as he goes back to rubbing at your nose. You stare into his blue-green eyes as he rubs, relaxing in his hold. A surge of gratitude overtakes you again. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of you and you’re not sure if it was with a tenderness like this.

“Jason?” you say his name quietly. He hums in response, fingers no longer rubbing along your nose but moving to hold your face. You want to say how thankful you are for him and happy that he’s in your life. The words choke in your throat. He’s watching you again, the way he always does. You think you know what it means now but you’re not emotionally ready for that conversation.

“Will you stay the night again?” you finally get out, “Please.”

He nods, “Course.” His hand slides from your face to hold at the back of your neck. Your hands slide from his front to around his waist in a hug as you press your face to his chest, hoping it conveys what you’re feeling. You’ll have to have a conversation, eventually, but not today. Today, you’re content with Jason holding you.

Additional Note: This is Jason domesticating himself. I picture Jason as a watch-and-learn type of person and he’s been watching her as Red Hood how she keeps her apartment clean to her standards for a while. He’s going to use that knowledge. This chapter and the next chapter are definitely filler type chapters but its okay, we’ll get somewhere eventually. Drop a comment if you want, I like everybody's thoughts. Thank you for reading

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @tetsuroubaby, @herodedicatedblog

[wonubby]

fell in luv - itoshi rin

CHAPTER 01: OTOYA GOT HIS ASS BEAT

SYPNOSIS Rin Itoshi thought life was all about football—until Y/N L/N and their chaotic group of friends proved otherwise. Now, he’s stuck navigating late-night hangouts, dumb arguments, and way too much teasing—all while somehow being hopelessly in love. It’s a story of laughter, love, and Rin just trying (and failing) to keep his cool.

a/n: first part of the series!!! i hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to those who liked/reblogged the first post

written part after all the pics!

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the sound of laughter blended with the breeze as the group of teens lounged together, soaking in their thursday afternoon. rin’s gaze kept drifting to the girl across from him, drawn to her warm smile and sleepy eyes as she spoke. when her eyes met his, she gave him that same soft smile. caught in the act, rin’s face burned with embarrassment, and before he could think, he shot to his feet.

"i… i uh, i'm gonna head home. i need to get up early for training," rin stammered, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

a small frown dented y/n's face at his sudden change in demeanour. with a sigh, she stood up, facing him with a playful pout. "come on, rinnie, you can't leave so soon," she whined, her voice laced with disappointment.

rin hesitated, his fingers still lingering at the nape of his neck as he avoided her gaze. “i really should go…” he mumbled, though his voice lacked conviction. the warmth in her eyes made it harder to leave, and the way she said his name sent an unfamiliar flutter through his chest.

y/n huffed, stepping closer. “just a little longer?” she pressed, tilting her head. “the night’s still young, and besides…” she tugged gently at his sleeve, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “you still owe me from when you left my house early last time.”

rin’s lips parted slightly, caught between the urge to stay and the instinct to retreat. he could feel the expectant stares of the others, waiting to see if he’d cave. after a beat of silence, he exhaled in defeat, dropping his hand from his neck.

“…fine. but just for a little while,” he muttered, refusing to meet her eyes.

y/n beamed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back down beside her. “that’s the spirit! now, where were we?” she grinned, settling in close, her shoulder just barely brushing against his.

rin swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the space—or lack thereof—between them. training could wait just a little longer.

"ah, there he goes again, giving in so easily," otoya teased, leaning back on his hands with a smirk. "rin, you're getting soft."

"shut up," rin muttered, crossing his arms as he looked away, his ears burning.

yukimiya chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "you say that, but we all saw how fast you sat back down."

naomi nudged riya with her elbow, giggling. "he acts all serious, but y/n has him wrapped around her finger."

"obviously," riya agreed, grinning. "it's kind of cute, though."

rin groaned, rubbing his temples. "can we talk about something else?"

"alright, alright, leave the poor guy alone," yukimiya said with an amused chuckle, watching rin sink further into himself. "he’s already regretting staying."

"as he should," otoya grinned, leaning forward. "but, hey, since we're all here, might as well keep the fun going. someone tell a story or something."

"oh! i have one!" naomi piped up, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "but it's kind of embarrassing..."

"even better," riya laughed, nudging her. "spill."

naomi hesitated for a moment before groaning. "fine. so, last week, i was rushing to practice, right? and i tripped—like full-on face-planted—right in front of coach. but instead of helping me up, he just looked at me and went, 'get up, naomi. this is why we work on balance training.'"

the group burst into laughter, even rin couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped past his lips.

"damn, no sympathy at all," otoya wheezed. "brutal."

"right?" naomi groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "it was so bad."

y/n giggled, leaning against rin’s shoulder slightly without even realizing it. "at least you can laugh about it now," she said, smiling at her friend.

rin stiffened at the sudden contact, his heart stuttering in his chest. he glanced down at y/n, but she was too busy laughing with the others to notice. his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he exhaled and looked away, his fingers curling slightly against his knee.

maybe staying a little longer wasn’t so bad after all.

taglist: @levihanmyotp

[utopiastri]

Put That Guy in a SituationTM - look something about Landoscar in a 20/32 type situation has me hooked….trying to not let others on to their predicament, maybe it’s a bit embarrassing how it happened 🤔

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt! i went a smidge away from my usual cutesy fluff for this one - your suggestion of embarrassment really sparked something in my brain, even if i took it in a slightly different direction. i hope you enjoy!!!

(prompt list here)

“Look, we just gotta act natural,” Lando says.

Or, well, Lando-as-Oscar says, because it sounds like Oscar’s voice and it’s Oscar’s mouth that’s moving, but it’s Lando that’s actually saying the words and–

Lando-in-Oscar’s-body huffs. “You’re having a crisis again aren’t you?”

“You know it’s weirder of you to be 100% ok with this.”

“It’s a body swap curse, mate, it’s not rocket science.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair and cringes at the uncanny feeling of there being someone else’s hair on top of his head. “I understand the concept, Lando, what I’m struggling with is everything else related to it like, I don't know, how the fuck this happened."

“I don’t know. Do you reckon we need to have sex to break the curse?”

“What?” Oscar squawks, “Why would we need to have sex to break the curse?”

Lando flushes. “I dunno. Just felt like the right solution.”

“Based on what?”

Lando mumbles something about seeing it online once and Oscar chooses to ask no more follow-up questions lest Lando tells him he learnt about it from some random porn he watched once. He heaves a sigh.

“Listen, like you said, we should just act normal. This whole thing is,” Oscar pauses to search for the right word, “Strange. And I’d really rather not bring anyone else into it to begin with.”

“Agreed,” Lando says before adding, “Hey, if we’re still like this for the race tomorrow and I win but in your body, does that mean you get the points?” Oscar glares at him and Lando pouts. “It’s a genuine question!” he whines.

Oscar’s about to point out they have bigger things to focus on than the effects of this on a race when Jon sticks his head into the room.

“Debrief in five, guys.”

“Sounds good, mate,” Lando says, in an accent no human being has ever used before.

Jon blinks at him. He turns to look at Oscar. Or, rather, he turns to look at Oscar who he thinks is Lando. Oscar smiles weakly.

“He’s, uh, trying to do an impression of me doing an Australian impression," Oscar lies, hoping it sounds vaguely believable.

“Oi!” Lando says, “My Australian accent’s mint.”

“Yes, Oscar,” Oscar says pointedly, “Your Australian accent would be mint because you are from Australia.”

Lando's eyes light up in realisation and he starts nodding furiously. “Right, yep, what he said, exactly.”

Jon blinks at both of them this time. He sighs.

“If you two are doing roleplay, I don’t want to hear about it.” Lando and Oscar both start spluttering, but Jon keeps on talking over both of them. “Just be on time for debrief.”

With Jon gone, Oscar breathes a sigh of relief. Or he starts to, until Lando pipes up.

“I still reckon us having sex will fix it.”

Oscar reminds himself that if he kills Lando right now, he’s possibly going to do irreparable damage to his own body.

The thought’s still tempting.

“Is there a particular reason you’re so desperate to have sex with yourself?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

Lando clearly wasn't expecting that question because he freezes. Oscar’s always hated how easily he flushes but right now, watching it brutally incriminate Lando, he can’t help but be grateful for it.

“I’m not fucking desperate to have sex with myself.” He doesn't sound like he's lying, but the blush on his face suggests he's not telling the whole truth.

Maybe…

His eyebrows raise. “So you’re only desperate to have sex with me then?”

Lando looks up at Oscar, eyes wide. He swallows.

Got you, Oscar thinks to himself.

[ttjisung]

BUBBLE p. jisung

nct dream smau ₊˚⊹♡ in which park jisung has been your best friend since you can remember. as long as he can remember, he's been in love with you. aka jisung's intricate plan to to hide the fact that he has the world's hugest crush on his bff.

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chapter two ₊˚⊹♡ (written + sm)

⋆｡˚ walking into the dark, sweaty room felt like whiplash for both you and jisung as he led you through the front door of seunghan’s house – you were never quite sure why he’d call it a dorm, maybe he’s one of those rich people that hate being called rich, the thought faded in your brain once you felt the familiar warmth of jisung’s hand intertwined with yours. 

passing by eunseok, the assigned bouncer, was fairly easy. it’s almost as if he was told to look for you, considering he rushed you past the large group of people waiting to be let in. 

now that you were at the party though, you began to regret accepting the invite. it’s not that you were a loser, you’d been to several parties before, it just honestly wasn’t your scene, jisung not far behind to agree as he shivered looking at the drunk people passed out on the couch. he hoped you didn’t want to drink too much, because he knew he’d be easily swayed to join you. 

luckily for jisung, you didn’t want to drink either, opting to pull him to the kitchen and raid seunghan’s pantry. 

jisung giggled behind you as you pulled him into the small closet, putting a finger on your lips to shush him. “look for anything sweet… i’ll look for drinks.” he nodded his head, standing straight and raising a hand to his temple in a salute. “ma’am, yes ma’am.” you dispersed as far as you could, yet your arms continued to touch as you searched for any snack of value. it didn’t take long before he was tapping on your shoulder, holding up two packs of strawberry pocky with a triumphant grin. mirroring the boy, you held up two cans of soda. you both celebrated with a little dance, bumping into each other so awkwardly that anyone would assume you were both drunk.

it wasn’t until you heard footsteps in the kitchen that you froze, jisung’s eyes widening in fear. sure, seunghan seemed laid back enough to not yell at you for stealing food, yet the whole situation would just be plain embarrassing. 

jisung held onto your shoulder, squeezing it lightly as a hidden signal. don’t move. you simply nodded, breathing lightly in panic when you heard voices outside. you recognized them – lee sohee, one of seunghan’s best friends, as well as park wonbin, his roommate. 

“man, that weed that haechan gave us was a bust. smoked like half of this and it didn’t do shit.” wonbin’s voice was muffled, yet you could imagine the pout on his face as he whined. “just leave it here. i think hannie picked some up anyway so let’s just go steal his.” sohee’s higher voice rang out as well, feet shuffling and slowly fading away, replaced by the bass of a random pop song playing in the living room. 

looking up at jisung who had also heard the interaction, your grin turned evil, the gears in your head turning. “n/n… i recognize that face. no.” “but ji! it’s the perfect opportunity… pleaseeee.” jisung was easily convinced by your tone, holding your hand in his as he dragged you out of the pantry and into the kitchen. 

it wasn’t hard to find the half-missing joint, the smell lingering that led you both to one of seunghan’s vases. there it stood, in all its glory, basically asking you to steal it.

you were quick to snatch it, dragging jisung along with you quickly as you both snuck out towards the back porch. both of you were giddy from the adrenaline, completely forgetting that you didn’t even own a lighter. a pink haired angel came to save the day as you saw giselle puffing on a shared cigarette with winter. “AERI! HELP!” both of you ran to the two, holding out the joint in your hand. “you can hit it if you let us borrow your light.” jisung made the offer, hoping it would convince the girl, and it was truly your lucky day as giselle laughed, handing it over. “i don’t want any, but just take this one. i have another in my car-” “oh my god, i could literally kiss you aeri.” your words were passionate, grateful for your friend. 

giselle was the only one who noticed the deep blush engulfing jisung at your mention of a kiss, smirking to herself before handing over her pink lighter. waving you two off, she took winter by the hand and headed towards her car for the replacement, leaving you two alone again.

“heh, i totally umm… smoke everyday, but like you should take the first hit to be honest, since i’m already a pro.” your voice was shaky, unconfident as you handed the joint to jisung who desperately shook his head, “i literally just hit like three blunts before i drove over to your place, so you start cause i’m already like… high.” jisung was squinting, avoiding eye contact as he pushed it in your direction once more. “do it ji.” “okay, fine.” he caved fairly quickly, placing the burnt side in his mouth before lighting the filter, frowning when it didn’t work.

“ji, you’re so silly. it’s like this.” you moved your hand towards his mouth, holding the joint between two fingers as you moved it around, placing the filtered edge on his lip instead. jisung’s blush grew at the physical contact, feeling uncomfortably warm out of nowhere. he didn’t have time to dwell on your actions, as you quickly turned the lighter on for him, leading it to the joint in between his lips. 

with an unconscious inhale, jisung’s lungs felt like they were collapsing at the harsh feeling of the smoke. obviously, he had never done this before, and neither had you. it wasn’t until he shakily breathed out that the cough subdued, and he quickly picked up the habit, taking three hits before passing it to you.

feeling bold, jisung replicated your previous actions, placing the joint in on your lips and lighting it for you, patting your back as you began to choke as well. once you both had adjusted, the rotation became easier. “how many hits should we do?” “let’s just finish it.” 

jisung felt giddy once again, the high hitting as he looked at your lips, seeing you inhale and exhale. he stared so hard he saw the slight shimmer of your spit on the end of the joint, smiling at the fact that you had shared more than one indirect kiss. the fuzzy feeling quickly escalated, and jisung swore he was floating in the sky as you fell onto your back in a laughing fit. 

the feeling intensified, the joint now small and unsmokable. the two of you were giggling, jisung jumping onto the ground to lay next to you. 

“we should go find gyu and the girls.” your words rang in jisung’s ear, who nodded without even understanding what you were saying. “orrr… we could walk to the toy store near here and look at what they have-” the male didn’t even let you finish your sentence before he was dragging you onto your feet, stumbling with you as you both inched your way towards your intended location.

a/n: i want a new house for my collection too 😞 once the taglist gets to ten people ill start adding it 🩷🩷🩷 :333

[fee224]

Nap queen

Rafe Cameron x overlooked!reader

You hadn’t done a lot of anything all weekend. You’re eyes closed so easily on rafes soft mattress and his plush couch. Especially with Rafes cooing and encouragement “you tired baby?” “Shh a naps not hurtin anyone” all spoke in whispers.

Fluttering eyelids and flushed cheeks. You stretched your legs, noticing the empty bed and evening darkness. Tip toeing out of the bed to pee. Noticing your rough reflection in the mirror. Ratty hair, a crop top and underwear, rosy red cheeks.

You walked through hallways and doors, trying to find your missing boyfriend. Peeking at the top of the stairs, intrigued by the multiple male voices.

Following the voices from the stairs all the way to the kitchen in slight steps.

“Ray?” Your voice echoed, opening the kitchen door with furrowed eyebrows. Feet sensitive to the cold tile. Only now seeing topper and kelce sitting on the island, drinking beers with a standing rafe, all paused to turn around and look at you.

“Hey princess, sleep nice?” You nodded, embarrassed for no sole reason. “C’mere” he patted his knee, which you waddled towards him in response. Hugging into his side and hiding your face into his chest.

“You okay pretty girl?” He whispered in your ear, ignoring the way topper and kelce were mentally undressing you, a ten second process with the little clothes you were wearing.

“I’m okay..” you said, rafe hearing it muffled. Pulling yourself out of his T-shirt and noticing the messy, tipsy smile rafe beheld.

“Sup Wilson” kelce smiled, from your knowledge, it was a comforting one. You smiled back muttering a hello, sticking to rafes side like glue.

“Pizzas ordered, you want some?” Rafe caressed your back as you bit down on your lip, nodding again.

“Come with me for a minute kay?” He pushed you through the door into the hallway, by his hands on your shoulders, shutting the door behind the both of you. “You want them to go?”

“No! no.. no, I’m fine” you smiled up at him, brushing the messy hair behind your ears. He nodded down at you, believing you.

“Good for another two hours? Then me and you can be together kay?” You just smiled up at him, not paying much attention, not used to the offer of sending people home.

“You gonna stay with us, or want to be upstairs?” You bit down on your lip again, your sleepy, hot head trying to process what he was asking you. “Uh huh, stay with rafe” you pressed a hand down on your forehead, your vision slightly clouded.

The rest of the evening spent curled on Rafes couch, where he drew small circles on your bare waist until you fell asleep, head on lap. Listening to topper and kelce talk about the details of another wild party, while the television played a golf tournament from earlier in the day. Belly full of pizza and coke. Until you woke up being carried up the stairs to bed “shhh go back to sleep baby, just bringing you to bed” he kissed your forehead.

- fee xxx