#so i would have loved to give it a try at least

[cumironi]

I’VE GOT YOU, BABY jjk men

feat. gojo geto nanami toji sukuna shiu higuruma

sum. they thought it would be a normal night. playful bickering, eat dinner together, maybe makeout session while you two are giggling like a lovesick fool. but heart cancer? stage 3? yeah, not on their bingo cards.

warning. non-sorcerer jjk men! 23 you & 31 them, established relationships, heart cancer, death mentioned, bit angst to comfort, fluff, and not very heart warming.

GOJO SATORU

he was supposed to be in meeting.

supposed to be.

but instead he was dramatically sprawled on the couch in your apartment, shirt half-buttoned, socks mismatched, one leg hanging off the edge like he was modeling for an early 2000s teen magazine. blue eyes flicked up from your coffee table, where your textbooks were open and your laptop screen glowed with your thesis draft. he had the attention span of a goldfish, and you were used to it by now. what you weren’t used to was the man pausing mid-ramble about how coffee shops should have loyalty programs that give hugs instead of free drinks, the moment you slid the envelope across the table toward him.

“what’s this? did you finally write me a love letter?” he grinned, picking it up and waving it. “wait—let me guess, you’ve confessed your undying love for my devastatingly good looks and impeccable fashion sense. i knew the mismatched socks would win you over.”

you smirked, resting your chin in your hand. “close,” you said. “just my medical results. fun lil update from my body.”

he blinked. the paper unfolded in his hands, and for once, he was quiet. his eyes moved faster than usual. you could feel the shift in the air. from playful to something dense. cold. heavy.

he read the words again.

“stage 3, heart cancer… twenty-four percent chance to live…”

“i know, right? guess my cells just got bored of behaving,” you laughed. it was too loud. too sudden. too wrong. “could be 24% chance or survival. maybe 50%. depending on how charming i am in the oncology department.”

you force a shaky laugh. “guess i must’ve loved you too much. my heart couldn’t take it.”

for a beat, there’s nothing. nothing.

it’s a joke. a bad one. a last-ditch attempt to soften the punch. your eyes betray you anyway — tears sparkle at the corners like broken glass, and the tremble in your fingers doesn’t go unnoticed.

“shut up,” he whispered. not in his usual joking way. his voice cracked at the edge, like he’d bitten into something sour and was trying not to spit it out.

you shrugged, crossing your legs like you were just talking about the weather. “i’m still hot though, right? at least if i kick the bucket, i’m going down with great cheekbones.”

“no. nope. return to sender. i don’t accept this bullshit,” he murmurs, voice cracking through the sarcasm. “you don’t get to pull the tragic heroine card on me. that’s my thing.”

you try to laugh. “so dramatic…”

“i’m the drama. not you. you’re the soft, pretty, sunshine type who cries during dog movies and hogs the bed. you’re not allowed to die. i won’t allow it. i’ll— i’ll—”

“you’ll what, kiss it better?” you tease.

“why the fuck would you joke about this?” his voice rose. panic behind the volume. the paper in his hand crumpled a little.

“because if i don’t, i’ll start crying,” you replied, softer now. looking at him with tired eyes. “and i really, really don’t wanna cry in front of you. you’d never let me live it down.”

“you idiot,” he breathed out, standing up so fast the coffee table shook. his hands were trembling. he paced once. twice. then suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you like gravity had yanked him down.

“you’re not going to die,” he said. like a promise. like a threat to the universe. “i’ll fight death himself. with my sunglasses. and sarcasm. and maybe a bazooka.”

you blinked. “you don’t know that.”

he grabbed your hands, clutching them so tightly you could feel how cold his were. “you think you can drop something like this on me and then just—laugh about it? you think that’s fair? i love you, you dumbass.”

you looked down at him. this ridiculous, beautiful man kneeling like you’d just proposed marriage instead of dropped a medical bombshell.

you sniff, smile crookedly. “i love you too.”

he grins, forehead pressed to yours. “good. you’ll fit right in with the chaos i’ve got planned for your recovery. step one: we replace your heart with mine. step two: we break into a hospital and demand glitter IVs. step three: we live. got it? we’re gonna fight this. i don’t care if i have to bribe, blackmail, or bend space-time — you’re staying with me. you’re not allowed to leave.”

you choke out a laugh against his shoulder. “that’s a pretty bold threat to make to the universe.”

“you think i won’t square up with the universe?” he pulls back, eyes shining with something wild and terrified and real. “i’ll fight fate with one hand and spoon-feed you pudding with the other.”

you look at him, tears falling freely now, and he smiles — a little broken, a little soft.

“besides,” he adds, voice trembling as he kisses the corner of your mouth, “you still owe me like, twenty dates. and my hoodies back.”

he stared at you.

you smiled. a little cracked. a little crooked. “worth it.”

“i swear to god,” he growled, burying his face in your lap. “if you die, i’m haunting your ghost just to yell at you.”

you ran your fingers through his hair. soft. familiar. he was shaking. he didn’t want you to see. “you’re not going to die,” he whispered again, like if he repeated it enough times, it would rewrite your diagnosis.

“but if i do,” you said gently, voice steady for both of you, “please keep wearing mismatched socks for me. preferably ugly ones. the uglier, the better.”

he lifted his head and kissed your knuckles. then your palm. then your wrist. like he could map your pulse, hold onto it, anchor it. i’m gonna annoy every doctor on this planet if that’s what it takes,” he muttered. “i’m gonna sit in every waiting room and argue with every nurse and—”

“you’re already annoying,” you smiled, brushing tears off his cheek. “just keep being you, toru. okay?”

he choked out a laugh. a real one. raw and messy and breaking. “yeah,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “okay. but just so you know—if you think i’m gonna let you go without a fight, you’re really underestimating how stubborn i am.”

and you believed him.

because it was satoru gojo.

and he was chaos and comfort and love in human form.

GETO SUGURU

you didn’t expect him to come over tonight.

he had been buried in work lately—endless stacks of logistics and community events and trying to solve the world’s problems like he didn’t already carry the weight of it on his shoulders. so when he texted you “omw. bring that pouty face I like,” you assumed he was just being his usual flirty self. nothing serious.

you didn’t expect to be sitting on your bedroom floor in an oversized hoodie with a manila envelope on your lap, legs tucked beneath you, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you heard the familiar knock-knock-knock. two beats, then one. his rhythm.

he walked in with a drink carrier balanced in one hand and a bouquet of flowers that looked like they were arranged by a man who walked into the shop and said “whatever she’ll like, just make it look expensive.” his eyes lit up the second they saw you, and he gave you that half-lidded smile that made it look like he knew every secret about you.

“what’s with the envelope, babe?” he asked as he kicked his shoes off and slid beside you on the floor. “you trying to sue me for being too good-looking? because guilty as charged.”

you snorted. “nah, i’d win that case against gojo way faster.”

“mm, true.” he nudged your knee with his. “what is it then?”

you clear your throat and drop the letter dramatically on the floor next to him like it’s a bomb. “got a broken heart. me. officially. medically. romantically tragic.”

geto raises a brow, gaze drifting from the letter to you. “did i forget an anniversary again? that sounds serious.”

giving him a lazy smile. “worse. i’m in a love triangle with death and a statistics chart.”

you handed it over. said nothing after.

he cocked an eyebrow but took it. slid the letter out like he was opening one of your essays. started reading.

his smile dropped.

his breath caught.

and for once—suguru geto didn’t say anything.

he finished the page. eyes moving over the last line again. and again. his fingers curled around the edge of the letter so tightly it crinkled.

you felt like vomiting.

“stage 3, heart cancer,” you said lightly. like it was the weather. like you’d just found out the vending machine was out of your favorite chips. “only twenty-five percent chance of making it. which is still, like, a quarter! that’s one out of four. i’ve played worse odds at those arcade claw machines. like flipping a coin with feelings.”

“don’t—” his voice was hoarse. “don’t joke about this.”

“why not?” you forced a grin. “i thought you liked my dark humor.”

he turned to you so fast, your smile faltered.

“i do,” he said, barely a whisper. “but not when it’s hiding how scared you are.”

and that was the worst part. the way he saw through you. you looked away. bit your tongue. tried to force another joke but your throat closed up and it never made it out. “you should be crying,” he said softly. “you should be screaming. you should be throwing things or cursing god or making me carry you everywhere like a princess.”

“yeah well,” you mumbled. “you’ve always liked me better when i’m quiet.”

“don’t say that.” his hand cupped your cheek, turning your face toward him. “don’t ever say that.”

you blinked. his thumb wiped away something you didn’t realize had fallen.

“baby—”

“i’m going to be here for all of it,” he said firmly. his voice steady, even if his hands trembled. “chemo. surgeries. crying fits. mood swings. i’ll buy you every stupid snack craving you have, i’ll hold your hair back if you puke, i’ll even let satoru come over if you’re bored enough to tolerate him.”

“wow,” you said, voice thick. “must really love me if you’re willing to suffer through that.”

he laughed, but it cracked halfway through. he leaned in and kissed your forehead. your nose. your cheeks. slow. deliberate. like he was memorizing your face before the world dared to change it.

“you’re the love of my life,” he murmured against your skin. “and i don’t care what percentage the doctors give. you’re not leaving me.”

you tried to joke again. to keep it light. but when he pulled you into his arms and held you like you were made of glass and might disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough—

you broke.

and he just let you.

silent. steady. his hand rubbing circles into your back. his voice a whisper. “i’ve got you, baby. every step. every breath. we’re fighting this. together.”

NANAMI KENTO

he was never one for surprises.

nanami lived his life in clean lines and structured time—an adult in every sense of the word. the kind of man who folded his clothes before bed, who ironed your uniforms when you were too tired, who always had a clock running in his head. you were chaos in comparison. soft blankets thrown over chairs, tea mugs with lipstick smudges left by your bedside, textbooks covered in doodles. yet somehow, you and him had always fit together like an odd, unlikely pair.

tonight, he showed up exactly at 7:00 p.m.

punctual, like always.

“i brought you dinner,” he said, holding up two paper bags. “i made sure it’s from that place you like with the spicy tofu you claim doesn’t make you cry but always does.”

you smiled, opening the door wider for him. “ah, you remembered. see? you do love me.”

he gave you a flat look, setting the bags on your kitchen counter. “i tell you every day. if you need evidence beyond that, i can start writing it down in your planner.”

“ooh, planner declarations of love? sounds sexy.”

he gave a soft, almost-smile. you could tell he’d had a long day. the way he rolled his sleeves up, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and sighed like he was finally somewhere safe. you wanted so badly to keep it peaceful. to let him enjoy one evening without—

but the envelope sat on the kitchen table. taunting you.

“ken,” you said softly, “before we eat… can you read something?”

his brow furrowed. “is this another one of your thesis drafts? i told you i am not proofreading any more literary analyses about how tragic men are secretly hot—”

“it’s not,” you said, quieter this time.

he walked over. saw the envelope. took it wordlessly.

you watched him read. nanami read carefully—line by line. never skimmed. never rushed. so it took longer. you could hear the second his breath changed. shallow. barely audible. then it stopped altogether.

he didn’t speak. didn’t ask questions. he simply folded the letter back up and set it down with precision. like it was something sacred. dangerous.

“why didn’t you call me when you got this?” he asked, voice low. serious. his control was razor sharp, but you could hear the grief pressing against his throat.

“i… didn’t want you to leave work in the middle of a meeting,” you muttered. “and i didn’t wanna cry about it either. figured i’d tell you in person. like a grown-up.”

“stage 3, heart cancer is not something you break like a casual news update,” he snapped—then immediately closed his eyes, sighing. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“it’s okay,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself. “i figured you’d be mad.”

“i’m not mad,” he said, walking around the table toward you. “i’m terrified.”

“it’s still there,” you whispered. “it’s just… fuzzy now. like a dream i can’t quite remember when i wake up.”

you looked up at him. that composed, unshakable man. and for the first time in a long time, nanami looked lost. “you’re young,” he said, almost to himself. “you’re in college. you have plans. you talk about the future like it’s something guaranteed.”

“you really mean that?” your voice cracked.

his jaw clenched. he pulled you into his chest, his hands pressing against your back, like he could physically hold you together. you could feel how hard he was trying not to fall apart. “then i’ll remember it for you,” he said quietly. “your future. your dreams. if you forget them… i’ll carry them until you can take them back.”

“of course,” he said, resting his chin on your head. “you’re the love of my life. i didn’t choose you for convenience. i chose you because i wanted every part of your life—good and bad. if this is what we’re facing now… then we face it. together.”

you buried your face in his chest, inhaling that familiar scent of bergamot and black tea. the comfort of his heartbeat. the way he was always so steady, even when the world wasn’t.

“but just so we’re clear,” he said, pulling back slightly to look at you, “you’re not going to die. not anytime soon. not before i make you my wife.”

you blinked. “wait—what?”

“i’m not proposing,” he said flatly. “not while you’re crying. but you should know… that’s where this was always headed.”

your tears doubled. “ken—”

“shh,” he kissed your temple. “we’ll talk about it after dinner. and after you stop pretending tofu doesn’t make you sob like a child.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it.

and for the first time since getting the diagnosis, you let yourself feel safe.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

toji was already lounging on your couch when you got home.

shirt half unbuttoned, legs spread like he owned the place—which, okay, he kind of did at this point, considering how often he crashed here. one arm slung over the back of the couch, the other nursing a can of beer he probably picked up on the way over. he didn’t look up when you walked in, just tilted his head slightly and smirked like he could smell the anxiety radiating off you.

“you look like shit,” he said casually, eyes still on the muted TV.

“thanks, baby,” you replied, dropping your bag by the door. “your romantic side is really showing today.”

“you want romance, go read a damn poem.” he finally looked at you. eyes narrowing. “you okay?”

you shrugged and walked into the kitchen, not answering. you knew that tone in his voice. low. suspicious. the kind he only used when he felt something off and didn’t like it one bit.

you took your time. poured a glass of water. leaned against the counter. stared at the envelope in your hand like it might explode if you set it down.

“toji,” you called.

“hm?”

“can you come here?”

he groaned dramatically but stood, beer in hand, and sauntered into the kitchen. he leaned against the counter across from you, expression unreadable. he scanned your face like he was piecing something together.

you handed him the envelope without a word.

he took it. read it.

you watched every flicker of emotion pass through his face. confusion. stillness. a furrowed brow. the tightening of his jaw. and then—rage. not loud. not messy. quiet. slow-burning. the kind that sat in his chest like a bomb with no timer.

he didn’t say anything at first.

just set the envelope down and looked at you. dead in the eye.

“how long have you known?”

“just a few days.”

“and you didn’t tell me?” his voice was low. flat.

you sighed. “i didn’t want to see your face like this.”

“like what?”

“like the world ended.”

he stepped closer. his voice dropped even lower.

“you think i give a fuck about the world?” he said slowly. “i care about you. you think you can just carry this shit alone and joke your way through it? you think that’s cute?”

“i didn’t want you to panic,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze. “i didn’t want to cry. or make it real. if i said it out loud—”

“then i’ll say it for you,” he interrupted. “you have heart cancer. stage 3. twenty-four percent odds. and guess what?”

you finally looked at him.

“we’re beating the shit outta those odds.”

you blinked. “what?”

he crossed the distance between you and pulled you into him. his grip wasn’t gentle—it was grounding. like he needed to feel your heartbeat against his chest to believe you were still here.

“you’re not dying on me,” he said, voice rough. “you hear me? i’ve lost enough people. you’re not going to be one of them. i’ll chain you to the damn bed if i have to. feed you. fight the doctors. i don’t care.”

“toji—”

“nah, shut up. you’re not allowed to talk until you admit i’m right and that i’m hotter than your oncologist.”

you choked out a laugh. “okay. you’re right. you’re hotter than any man with a medical license.”

“damn straight,” he muttered, lips brushing your forehead. “we’re getting through this. and i don’t care if you lose your hair or your strength or your mind a little bit along the way. you’ll still be mine. all of you.”

you didn’t say anything. didn’t need to. you just stood there with his arms around you, the only place that felt like home when everything else felt like hell.

he kissed the side of your head and sighed. “fuck. now i gotta start acting like a responsible adult.”

“guess you better start taking your vitamins, old man.”

“if i die before you, i’m haunting your ass. every time you try to pee, i’ll slam a cabinet door.”

you burst out laughing. crying. something in between. he held you tighter.

“that’s better,” he muttered. “cry in my arms like a normal person, not in the shower like a movie heroine.”

and just like that, you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

you found him in the bedroom, stretched across your bed like a damn king—which, technically, he insisted he was. shirtless, as usual. arms behind his head, eyes closed, expression too calm for a man with a bloodstained past and a mouth as foul as his reputation. the room smelled faintly like sandalwood and your shampoo, which he secretly used but would never admit to.

you stood in the doorway with the envelope clenched in your hand.

“oi, sukuna.”

his eyes cracked open, one brow lazily lifting. “what, brat? come to beg for kisses or annoy me until i carry you to class again?”

you forced a grin, walking in slowly. “tempting, but no. i’ve got something for you.”

“better be food or something perverted.”

you sat beside him, the envelope now shaking a little in your fingers. you hated how that tremor betrayed you. sukuna didn’t miss it. his eyes shifted to your hand, narrowing.

“what the hell is that?”

“diagnosis,” you said simply, tossing it onto his chest.

he caught it midair, scoffing. “what, did they finally diagnose you with being insufferable?”

“close. heart cancer. stage three. they gave me a twenty-four percent chance of living.” you tried to say it lightly. like it was a weather report. “cloudy with a chance of death, haha.”

sukuna didn’t laugh.

his eyes scanned the page. slower than usual. and his silence—it wasn’t dramatic, it was dangerous. the air felt like it thickened. you could almost hear his jaw clench.

“tch,” he scoffed. “twenty-four percent? what a bunch of weaklings. you don’t need their odds. you’ve got me.”

you blinked at him. “...you?”

“yeah. i’m keeping you alive. i’m not letting you leave me over some pathetic little tumor.”

you tried to keep the smile on your face, tried to keep the mood light like you always did. “damn. here i was thinking i’d finally get some peace and quiet.”

he sat up then—so suddenly the bed shifted with the force. his hand gripped your chin, tilting your face toward him, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing.

“don’t you dare joke about dying,” he growled. “not to me. not when you know what it would do to me.“

you tried to look away, but his fingers held you still. “sukuna…”

“do you know what i’ve done to people who’ve left me?” he whispered, and for once his voice wasn’t teasing—it was trembling.

“terrible things,” you murmured. “you’ve told me.”

“and yet, you’re the only one i’ve ever let touch me without blood on your hands,” he hissed. “the only one i’d share my bed with. laugh with. let sleep on my chest like some damn lovesick fool.”

you bit your lip. your bravado cracked. “...i’m scared.”

and that was all it took for him to pull you into his lap, arms winding around you with the kind of desperation he rarely ever let surface.

“good,” he muttered into your shoulder. “you should be. but not because of death. because if you think i’ll let you go through this alone, you clearly don’t know who the hell you’re dating.”

you buried your face into his neck, breathing in his warmth, his scent, the familiar thrum of something ancient and furious living in his chest.

“you’ll lose your hair?” he murmured. “i don’t care. you’ll puke every day? i’ll hold the damn bucket. cry at three a.m.? i’ll cuss out the moon for looking at you wrong.”

you choked out a laugh. “the moon, huh?”

“fucking moon thinks it’s allowed to shine on you while you’re in pain? not on my watch.”

he leaned back slightly, cupping your cheek now with uncharacteristic softness. “you don’t need to act strong for me, you little brat. cry. scream. sleep for days. whatever you need. i’ll be here.”

“...even when i look like a zombie?”

“you already look half-dead when you wake up. won’t be much of a change.”

you smacked his chest. he grinned.

and then he pressed his forehead against yours, a rare show of intimacy, his voice dropping so low you barely caught it:

“you’re mine. and i don’t give a fuck if it takes all my strength, my fury, my everything. you will survive this. not because the doctors said so. but because i won’t let you die.”

and for once, even with your heart breaking and your future uncertain, you believed him.

because when a monster like sukuna swore something, the universe listened.

SHIU KONG

the sun was already setting by the time you made it to his office.

you found him exactly how you expected: sleeves rolled up, shirt slightly wrinkled, tie loosened like he’d been too busy all day to care about appearances. he was hunched over his desk, fingers typing something sharp, probably threatening someone with policy violations and scary legal jargon. a half-empty glass of whiskey sat beside his monitor, untouched for hours. the room smelled like cologne and stress.

you stood in the doorway, clutching the envelope.

“shiu.”

his eyes didn’t lift right away—just one flick of them toward you, annoyed, until he saw your face. that was all it took.

he straightened. “what happened?”

“nothing,” you said too quickly. “or, i mean... something. yeah. i brought you something.”

you walked in, trying to act normal. like this wasn’t going to detonate his whole night. you placed the envelope on top of a stack of case files like it was a stupid postcard or a coupon for pizza.

he picked it up, his frown deepening with every line he read.

“you’re joking,” he said flatly.

“i wish.”

he looked at you. hard. no emotion at first—just that sharp, calculating gaze that made grown men fold. but you knew him too well. you saw the cracks right away: his fingers tightening around the paper. the twitch in his jaw. the breath he held too long before letting it out.

“stage three?” he said. “twenty-four percent survival?”

you leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to keep it light.

“well, if i was a stock, you probably wouldn't invest in me, huh?”

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” he snapped.

you blinked.

“jesus, shiu, calm down—”

“no. i’m not calming down. you walk into my office with this,” he shook the letter, “and joke about it? you think this is funny? you think i can just read this and go back to work?”

you stayed quiet.

he stood up, pacing now. one hand dragging through his hair, the other still holding the paper like it was covered in blood. his voice dropped low. rough.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“i didn’t want to ruin your week.”

he turned slowly. "you think any of this matters if you’re not in it?"

that one hit harder than you expected. your throat tightened.

he sighed harshly and stepped toward you, eyes dark, voice steadier now but no less intense. “look at me.”

you did.

he cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he was trying to memorize every inch.

"you don’t get to carry this alone,” he said. “not with me around. not for a second."

you bit your lip. “i didn’t want you to treat me like i was dying.”

“i’m not treating you like you’re dying. i’m treating you like you’re mine. and you are. and i don’t care how brutal this fight gets, how many appointments we sit through, how sick you get, how tired—i’m staying.”

you exhaled shakily, and his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you against him like he could keep the sickness away just by holding you tighter.

“you’re not allowed to go before me,” he murmured into your hair. “i’m the old one here, remember?”

you smiled weakly. “so what, you’re giving me permission to outlive you?”

“i’m giving you orders. and you always listen to your boss.”

“you’re not my boss, shiu.”

“wanna bet?”

you leaned your head against his chest, finally letting your tears soak into his shirt. his arms stayed locked around you like a shield.

“i’m scared,” you whispered.

he kissed your temple, voice rough and sure.

“then be scared. just don’t be alone.”

HIGURUMA HIROMI

he always stayed up too late when he was working. piles of case files, half-drunk cups of green tea gone cold, classical music humming low in the background like it could drown out the weight of the world. the desk lamp lit his tired eyes in soft gold, his brows furrowed in that focused way you knew meant he hadn’t even noticed the time—or eaten.

you hovered at the doorway for a second, gripping the envelope. stage 3. 24%. ugly numbers typed in a clinical font that suddenly felt louder than the damn music.

“hiromi.”

he glanced up, his features instantly softening the second he saw you. “you’re still up. what’s wrong?”

you tried to smirk. “well. i’m about to ruin your night. so buckle in, counselor.”

he frowned and pushed his chair back, straightening. “what happened?”

you crossed the room, placed the envelope down in front of him like you were handing in an assignment. “that’s my diagnosis.”

he didn’t move for a few seconds. just stared at it. like touching it would confirm the dread blooming in his chest. but he opened it, scanned the words, and then—

his shoulders stiffened. just slightly. like a man being sentenced.

“heart cancer,” he murmured, voice almost too calm. “stage three. twenty-four percent survival rate.”

“yeah,” you said with a dry chuckle. “bit dramatic, right? could’ve given me a 30% for optimism.”

his eyes snapped up to yours, unreadable.

“you’re making jokes?”

“if i don’t, i’ll cry. and i figured one of us should hold it together.”

his jaw tensed, and he stood slowly, walking around the desk with a kind of methodical grace that always made your heart skip. he stopped in front of you, one hand resting on your cheek like he was scared you’d vanish.

“you’ve known… how long?”

“got the results a few days ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?”

you looked down. “i didn’t want to be the reason you stopped working. you’ve got enough to deal with. i didn’t want to be another case file on your desk.”

he flinched like you slapped him.

“you’re not a case file,” he said firmly. “you’re not just another name. you’re—” his voice broke, just a little. “you’re everything.”

you couldn’t hold it anymore. your voice cracked. “i’m scared.”

his arms were around you instantly, firm and grounding. his hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you into his chest like you belonged there and only there.

“then be scared,” he whispered into your hair. “and i’ll be scared with you. but don’t think for a second i’ll let you go through this alone.”

you held onto his blazer, gripping the fabric like it could anchor you. “i don’t want you to see me fall apart.”

“i’ve seen people fall apart,” he said. “i know what that looks like. this isn’t that. this is you being brave. this is you still showing up, still standing, even when you're hurting.”

you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes glassy. “what if i die?”

his hand slid to your cheek, thumb brushing a tear away. “then i’ll have spent every last day making sure you knew you were loved. and if you live—and you will, because you’re stronger than any verdict—they’ll write books about how you told death to wait.”

you laughed through the tears. “that’s a little dramatic, even for a lawyer.”

he smiled, just barely. “i learned from the best.”

and then he kissed you—soft, reverent, like a man clinging to hope.

“we’ll fight this,” he whispered. “and i’ll be with you every step of the way. suits and all.”

i made this after re-watch now is good and just can’t help myself. i know, i know it was basic, classic drama, the girl is sick, has cancer, everyone wrote about it, i know. but i enjoy writing this so much, i may or may not make a mini series about them, do you guys will enjoy it if i make this longer? please let me know! 🫣

[gf2bellamy]

hi!! so, i was watching the office and pam and jim were reading each others palm lines and i couldn’t help but imagine reader and spencer in a similar scenario; successfully flirting with each other while thinking they’re being discreet about it. of course, spencer doesn’t believe in that sort of thing but humors reader anyway. could you write something based off that episode, something to that effect? i think this could be a cute idea😅 thank you thank you!! xx

palm reading — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: fluff a/n: hi hi !! i love this idea more than anything ( biggest jimpam fan here !!!! )

“Oh, come on, Spencer,” you teased, the corners of your mouth tugging into a grin. “You don’t have to believe in it for it to be fun.”

The bullpen was quiet for once—no urgent cases, no ringing phones.

The perfect time for a little distraction.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you gave him your best set of puppy dog eyes—an expression you knew he found impossible to resist. You were trying to convince him to let you read his palm, but, true to form, Spencer—ever the scientist, ever the skeptic—wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity.

He blinked at you, momentarily thrown off. He didn’t believe in palmistry, not even a little bit.

But your eyes were wide and full of playful determination, and your smile… God, your smile made something flutter unexpectedly in his chest. He tried not to stare too long at your lips, tried to ground himself in logic, but when you looked at him like that?

Well, logic didn’t stand a chance.

He sighed, more for dramatic effect than anything else.

“Fine,” he said, voice laced with exaggerated reluctance.

You grinned, triumphant. “Bring your chair over here.”

He rolled his chair across the floor until he was beside you. Close—but not quite close enough. So you reached out, grabbed the edge of his seat, and tugged him forward.

He let you, of course. Always would.

Now, your knees were brushing—his slotted between yours, yours nudged between his. The space between you all but vanished, and suddenly the air felt warmer. Neither of you mentioned it.

You simply extended your hand, palm up, expectant. “C’mon, give me your hand.”

Spencer hesitated for only a second, then placed his hand in yours. Warm. Solid. His fingers twitched slightly as your fingertips ghosted over his palm, tracing faint lines he had never bothered to study.

Germs? They didn’t exist when it came to you. At least, not in the way they usually haunted his mind.

You focused intently, brows furrowed like a fortune teller, the tip of your finger dragging lightly over his heart line. He watched your face—your expression, your lips, your eyes—anything but his hand.

But eventually, reluctantly, his gaze dropped back to his own hand—though it twitched slightly beneath yours as if reacting on instinct.

“Hmm,” you murmured thoughtfully, still dragging your finger across his skin. “This line right here? It means you’re secretly a hopeless romantic.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, skeptical but amused. “That’s not what it means.”

“You sure?” You leaned in, your knee nudging his under the desk. “Because it’s very deep. Very intense. Very… emotional.” You punctuated each word with a slow stroke of your finger, watching with delight as his throat bobbed.

He chuckled softly, his head tilting as his eyes followed the curve of your smile. “You’re making that up.”

“Maybe,” you said, voice dropping into something softer, more teasing. You winked. “But it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Spencer didn’t answer right away. He was too busy watching how your hand fit so naturally in his, how easily your fingers curled around his own.

His heart beat a little too fast for comfort.

You cleared your throat and returned your attention to his palm, biting your lip in thought as you continued your "analysis." Spencer noticed the way your teeth tugged at your lower lip and had to look away—back to his hand, back to the lines that suddenly felt like more than just skin.

“And this one,” you began again, voice dramatic. “This one means that you’re—” You gasped suddenly, sharply, like you'd discovered something scandalous.

Spencer’s eyes widened, startled. “What? What is it?”

You looked up slowly, lips pressed together in mock seriousness. Your eyes locked with his, unreadable for just a second before you leaned in closer.

“A nerd,” you said flatly, and promptly bopped him on the nose with one finger.

The look on his face—pure, deadpan confusion—was too much. You burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up from your chest as you leaned back slightly, shaking your head.

Spencer blinked, caught somewhere between offended and endeared. “Seriously?”

“I mean,” you shrugged with an impish grin, “the lines don’t lie.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile pulling at his lips gave him away. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you,” you said, still laughing as you held his hand a little tighter, “are stuck with me for at least one full palm reading.”

He let you keep tracing the lines on his palm, your touch slower now, more deliberate.

“Okay, so this line here,” you began, your tone shifting into something warmer, more sincere, “means you’re incredibly smart.”

Spencer quirked an eyebrow. “Shocking revelation.”

“Shh,” you grinned, “let the professional work.”

He chuckled under his breath, but didn’t interrupt again.

He just kept watching you, his eyes impossibly soft, like he was memorizing the way your expression shifted as you spoke.

“And this one,” you continued, your touch lingering a little longer over the curve of his palm, “shows that you’re thoughtful. You care more than you let people see. About everyone. About the team. About…” You hesitated, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Well. Everything.”

Spencer didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

Because to him, it didn’t matter whether you believed in palmistry or not. What mattered was the way your voice softened when you described him, like you saw something in him that he sometimes forgot was there. This wasn’t just pretend anymore. This was you, telling him who he was through your eyes.

And God, he loved hearing those things.

Not because he needed validation.

But because it was you saying them.

Your thumb brushed lightly over his skin as you looked at his palm like it held all the answers you already knew by heart.

“I think your hands have very flattering opinions about me,” he said quietly, the hint of a smile on his lips, though there was something softer behind his eyes now.

“They’re just the messengers,” you replied, matching his quiet tone, your thumb absentmindedly brushing across his knuckles. “You’re the one who makes them true.”

A beat of silence. Spencer could hear his own heartbeat drumming in his ears.

Then, he let out a quiet breath. “You know palmistry is a pseudoscience, right?” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

You smiled, meeting his gaze. “Maybe. But sometimes the truth hides in things we don’t believe in.”

And then you added, softer, “Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”

There was a pause—brief, breathless.

So, Spencer gently turned your hand over in his, his fingers now tracing your palm.

“Then maybe,” he said, voice low and warm, “you should let me read yours next.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Okay, sure.” You held out your hand, now resting in his.

His fingers were warm as they wrapped around yours, a contrast to the coolness of the room.

“So,” you tilted your head, giving him a playful glance, “are you just going to make things up now? Considering you don’t believe in this?”

Spencer’s gaze flickered to your hand before he began tracing the lines on your palm, his touch light. “Oh, you mean make things up like you just did?” His voice was teasing, but his eyes met yours with a slight glimmer of amusement.

You bit your lip, pretending to think for a moment. “I didn’t make anything up,” you said with a shrug and a sly grin, your eyes locking with his. “I was being insightful.”

He chuckled, a soft, warm sound. “Yeah, okay,” he said with a playful roll of his eyes, though his fingers never stopped their slow, careful movement across your palm.

You leaned back slightly, watching him as he studied your hand with more attention than you’d expected.

"You're kind," Spencer murmured, his fingertip following the gentle curve of your heart line.

The bullpen's fluorescent lights caught the gold flecks in his eyes as he glanced up through his lashes, that familiar half-smile playing at his lips.

You shook your head, but couldn't suppress your grin. "Wow," you teased, "look who's starting to become a believer."

His responding chuckle was warm, vibrating through where your palms pressed together. "Empirical observation," he countered, but his thumb brushed your skin with deliberate tenderness that contradicted his scientific detachment. "This crease here? Textbook definition of compassion."

The way he said it - so matter-of-fact yet impossibly soft - made your breath catch.

Spencer Reid might claim he didn't believe in palmistry, but in this moment, he was reading you with terrifying accuracy.

His fingers lingered where your life line curved, tracing the path like he was committing it to memory.

"And this one," he continued, voice dropping to that quiet, intimate register that made your pulse stutter, "indicates someone who's far too patient with skeptical geniuses."

You giggled, your heart fluttering at the way his words, though playful, held a deeper meaning.

“I agree,” you said softly, your smile widening. But the weight of the moment wasn’t lost on either of you.

Spencer smiled back at you, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed to pause, his gaze lingering. He thought for a second about making more things up—just to keep his fingers wrapped around yours.

Honestly, there was a part of him that could have kept talking forever, spinning stories about palm lines, just to have an excuse to hold your hand forever.

Instead, he grinned, that familiar half-smile tugging at his lips. “Seems like I’m a believer after all.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. “Who knew?” you teased, squeezing his hand slightly. “You’ve got more of an open mind than you let on.”

Spencer chuckled. “Guess I’ve been misjudging things,” he replied, the playful edge in his voice softening, his thumb now moving in slow circles over the back of your hand.

You were both still, caught in a small, quiet world that only existed between the two of you.

He didn’t pull away. Neither did you.

For the first time, Spencer doubted his doubt in palm reading.

Because he was a hopeless romantic. Even if it was just with you.

[seitmai]

As always, many thoughts

Phoenix smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt across his chest and shoulders, and then she took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "Yeah, okay, should be fine," she muttered, examining his appearance.  "Nat, seriously, what did you do?" "Well.... I signed you up for speed dating," she informed him, wincing before he even responded.

She 100% would do something like that haha

Bradley chuckled. "You think I'll find a girl there? You're insane, Nat. It's going to be the weirdest assortment of people under the San Diego sun. Crazy people who collect cats and probably a bunch of basement dwellers." But as he watched his friend's face fall, he felt a little guilty. "I just thought you might have fun, you know, putting yourself out there. It's been a year since you dated anyone," she said softly.  Bradley took a sip of his beer and ran his hand over his face. "Fine. I'll go, but only to prove to you that I'm right and you're wrong."

Just to prove her wrong haha

He watched her jump up and down a few times and clap her hands. "Yes! It's at the Surfside Tavern, and if you leave now, you'll arrive just in time," she said, taking his beer from his hand and pushing him toward the door. "Text me later and let me know how it goes... unless you know, you're busy getting hot with a basement dweller."

She deserves an update how it went 😅

He steadied you, wrapping on big hand around your waist as you regained your balance. And Bradley instantly knew there was no chance he would be bailing early tonight. You took a slow step away from him as Bradley whispered, "Damn." You looked like a real treat, with bright eyes and kind of a shy smile. And as you walked toward all of the guys in suits, you turned to smile back at him over your shoulder.

Oh he already is in love, screw the speed dating!

Bradley laughed nervously. "Both are BR names, actually," he muttered. Then he watched her scribble down his name with KEEPER next to it.  Oh shit. He had to endure five minutes of Bridget listing off potential names for their theoretical future children. Bruce, Brandy, Bryce, Brinley, Brooke and Brynn were apparently all viable options, and when Connor announced that five minutes was up, Bradley launched out of his seat. 

Hahahah this cracked me up😂

"Oh," Angie replied, and her smile turned into a frown. "I'm in the Army." Bradley watched her jot down his name and write NO next to it. Then she took out her phone and started to play Candy Crush. 

Hahaha the playing candy crush alone says a lot 😂

"Sir, we've been over this before," Connor called after him, but Bradley made his way to where you were sitting with a different guy who was wearing a full-blown tuxedo.

Connor is just trying to enforce the rules, don't give hum such a hard time Bradley!

 "I just wanted to make sure you know I'm coming up in two more tables," he told you very seriously.  You nodded your head and pressed your lips together to try to stifle your smile. "Yeah, I noticed that when you tried to knock several people over a few minutes ago." Bradley smiled at you, already loving your sense of humor.

A shared sense of humor is already a great sign

"Sir!" Connor scolded. "This is not your table!" "Yes, Connor, I know," Bradley grumbled, heading over to sit with Michelle.

Hahaha Connor and Bradley are both so over this 😅

She shrugged too. "That's okay. I really liked Simon. Want to hear about the novel I'm writing?" Bradley was enthralled after five minutes of Michelle explaining the intricate plot of the detective thriller she was working on. "Damn it, Michelle. I need to know how it ends." She smiled and jotted down his email address. "I'll put you on my mailing list."

What a great conversation! I wanna know about Michelle's novel now too😅

"Are you even listening to me?" Cara asked, breaking his concentration  "Oh, uh... sorry, no," he replied, smiling at you as you glanced at him.

Well, at least he's honest 🤷🏻‍♀️

You laughed and bit your lip, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "I don't wear pajamas," you told him with a smirk of your own. Bradley sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I rest my case."

He couldn't have possibly hoped for a better answer 🤭

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you like?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips again and taking another sip. "So far, I like you. A lot." You leaned a bit closer as well as you told him, "I need someone who can make me laugh. It doesn't hurt if he's handsome. And I think mustaches just moved to the top of my nonnegotiable list."

"What about you, Bradley? You're cute. I like your mustache. And thank God you're not wearing a suit. You could probably get a date just by shoving the previous guy out of his seat and asking me."

Fair 🤷🏻‍♀️🤭

Their chemistry is already off the charts!😮‍💨

Bradley licked his lips. "And what's your ideal first date, babe? I'm planning on making it very memorable for you; already hoping for a second."

He is smooth

Bradley's entire body was humming. "There's nothing about you that would turn me off, is there?" he asked, and his voice was raspier now. He watched you lick your lips and shake your head. "No. Unless you can't stand smart girls who like to be a little sassy when they aren't wearing any pajamas."

Oh he definitely isn't turned off 🤭😉

"Fuck, no. I'm not moving, Connor!" Bradley called over his shoulder. Your eyes were glittering with amusement, and Bradley was going to leave this bar with you if it killed him.

Poor Connor, he is just trying to do his job 😅

Rooster Bradshaw: YOU WERE RIGHT.

Bradley felt you take his hand in yours, and his eyes were immediately on your face. "Let's get out of here, Bradley," you suggested. "Go to another bar? Or go for a walk?" "Absolutely," he replied, hopping up and pulling you to your feet.

He would do anything or go anywhere she asked 🙃

"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and down again.

Nat always knows!

I absolutely loved this, and I would 100% eat up a follow up of them if you ever feel up to it 🤗

Hello, I Love You | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.

Warnings: Pure fluff, adult banter, some cursing

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Love Is In The Air playlist challenge! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

Bradley strolled into the Hard Deck, got a beer from Jimmy, and then made his way to the pool table to join his friends. 

"What's up?" he asked Phoenix when she eyed him a little nervously.

"Now, don't get mad, okay?" She set her pool cue down and patted his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Bradley asked, frozen with his beer halfway to his lips. 

Phoenix smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt across his chest and shoulders, and then she took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "Yeah, okay, should be fine," she muttered, examining his appearance. 

"Nat, seriously, what did you do?"

"Well.... I signed you up for speed dating," she informed him, wincing before he even responded.

"No," he said, adamantly shaking his head. "Nope." Bradley sipped his beer and turned to grab some darts.

"And it starts in thirty minutes," Phoenix added, her eyes going wide as Bradley glared at her.

"Natasha, I'm not going."

"But you're lonely! And it's Valentine's Day! You need a girl!"

Bradley scoffed. "I'm not lonely. I'm... picky."

"Too picky, Rooster. Just go to the speed dating thing, please? I already spent twenty bucks to sign you up," she pleaded. "It comes with a free drink!"

Bradley chuckled. "You think I'll find a girl there? You're insane, Nat. It's going to be the weirdest assortment of people under the San Diego sun. Crazy people who collect cats and probably a bunch of basement dwellers."

But as he watched his friend's face fall, he felt a little guilty. "I just thought you might have fun, you know, putting yourself out there. It's been a year since you dated anyone," she said softly. 

Bradley took a sip of his beer and ran his hand over his face. "Fine. I'll go, but only to prove to you that I'm right and you're wrong."

He watched her jump up and down a few times and clap her hands. "Yes! It's at the Surfside Tavern, and if you leave now, you'll arrive just in time," she said, taking his beer from his hand and pushing him toward the door. "Text me later and let me know how it goes... unless you know, you're busy getting hot with a basement dweller."

Bradley just rolled his eyes and headed toward the Bronco. 

--------------------------

"Let me get you signed in! What's your name?" asked a young man with Connor on his name tag. He was seated at a small table at the front of the bar, and now Bradley was getting a little nervous. There were a lot of people here tonight.

"Bradley Bradshaw," he replied, taking a name tag sticker from Connor. 

"Just grab your drink at the bar and head on back to the area where the tables are set up. I'll get everyone started soon," said Connor with a smile. 

Bradley took a deep breath, half tempted to bail, but then he thought it would be worthwhile to get his free drink since Nat stole his other one. He got a beer from the bartender and then turned toward the back of the room, where there were a bunch of guys were wearing suits. 

"Shit," he muttered, glancing down at his own jeans and bright shirt. 

When he looked up, he quickly braced himself as you accidentally bumped into him, the drink in your martini glass sloshing precariously close to the rim. "Sorry!" you gasped, looking up at him. 

He steadied you, wrapping on big hand around your waist as you regained your balance. And Bradley instantly knew there was no chance he would be bailing early tonight. 

"Thanks," you whispered, tapping your martini glass to his beer bottle with a grin.

You took a slow step away from him as Bradley whispered, "Damn." You looked like a real treat, with bright eyes and kind of a shy smile. And as you walked toward all of the guys in suits, you turned to smile back at him over your shoulder.

"Okay, let's get started!" Connor announced, pulling your attention away from Bradley and toward him. "Let's have the ladies each take a seat at one of the tables, and the guys will rotate around the room. You'll have five minutes to get to know each person, and then I'll tell you to switch. You can grab a notepad and a pencil if you want to keep track of names. Let's go!"

Bradley watched you take a seat and cross your legs, subtly glancing at him again. He was pulled toward your table like a magnet, barely able to control himself. But it looked like he wasn't the only one. 

"Fucking suits," he groaned when another guy sat down across from you. Bradley doubled back and chose a table with someone else, practically tripping since he could barely look away. 

"Hi! I'm Bridget!" said the bubbly woman now seated across from him. 

"I'm Bradley," he replied with a smile, trying to discreetly count how many tables away you were sitting. 

"Oh my God! We both have B names! That's insane!" Bridget gushed.

Bradley laughed nervously. "Both are BR names, actually," he muttered. Then he watched her scribble down his name with KEEPER next to it. 

Oh shit. He had to endure five minutes of Bridget listing off potential names for their theoretical future children. Bruce, Brandy, Bryce, Brinley, Brooke and Brynn were apparently all viable options, and when Connor announced that five minutes was up, Bradley launched out of his seat. 

He tried to hustle over to your table, but Connor was on him right away. "We're rotating in order. Remember?" 

Bradley looked over to where you were sitting, shaking hands with your second "date". But you were looking at Bradley and smiling. It looked like you were trying not to laugh. 

Bradley glared down at Connor, towering over him. "Come on, man. See that one over there? I wanna talk to her." 

But Connor was not deterred, and rather showed Bradley to his next table with Angie. "What do you do for a living?" she asked, smiling at him across the table.

"I'm a Naval aviator," he replied, trying to get a peek of you talking with Mr. Suit. 

"Oh," Angie replied, and her smile turned into a frown. "I'm in the Army." Bradley watched her jot down his name and write NO next to it. Then she took out her phone and started to play Candy Crush. 

Once again, when it was time to switch tables, Bradley jumped up and rushed toward yours. 

"Sir, we've been over this before," Connor called after him, but Bradley made his way to where you were sitting with a different guy who was wearing a full-blown tuxedo. 

"Hi," Bradley said, reaching out to shake your hand. He checked your name tag this time; he just fucking knew you'd have a pretty name. And your hand was so small and soft, he held onto it for a moment. 

You looked up at him, and an adorable giggle escaped your lips before you also said, "Hi."

"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm coming up in two more tables," he told you very seriously. 

You nodded your head and pressed your lips together to try to stifle your smile. "Yeah, I noticed that when you tried to knock several people over a few minutes ago."

Bradley smiled at you, already loving your sense of humor.

"Don't write down anything flattering about him, okay?" Bradley nodded toward the guy in the tux who just scowled in response. 

Your shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I'll see what I can do."

"Sir!" Connor scolded. "This is not your table!"

"Yes, Connor, I know," Bradley grumbled, heading over to sit with Michelle.

Michelle eyed him cautiously. "I take it you're only interested in her?" she asked, gesturing toward your table.

Bradley shrugged. "Sorry, Michelle."

She shrugged too. "That's okay. I really liked Simon. Want to hear about the novel I'm writing?"

Bradley was enthralled after five minutes of Michelle explaining the intricate plot of the detective thriller she was working on. "Damn it, Michelle. I need to know how it ends."

She smiled and jotted down his email address. "I'll put you on my mailing list."

Finally Bradley was seated at the table next to yours, just a few feet away from you. "Hi," he said again, and he could tell he must have the dumbest look on his face. 

He watched your lips curl into the most radiant smile. "Hi, Bradley." God, he felt light headed as soon as you said his name. 

"I'll be there soon," he promised, and you blushed a little bit as you turned toward another guy in a fucking suit.

Bradley turned toward Cara and asked, "Has every other guy been in a suit?"

She nodded. "One was in a tuxedo."

"Huh," he grunted, trying so hard not to focus on you while Cara asked him questions about himself. 

"Bradley, where do you work?"

He shook his head, "No... I'm originally from Virginia."

"That's not what I asked."

But Bradley couldn't help it. You were sipping your martini and re-crossing your legs. And the guy you were with sounded boring as hell.

"Are you even listening to me?" Cara asked, breaking his concentration 

"Oh, uh... sorry, no," he replied, smiling at you as you glanced at him.

"Rotate!" Connor called, and Bradley was practically shoving the suit guy out of his seat at your table. 

"Finally," he muttered, smirking as he sat down. Your cheeks were a little flushed as you spun your martini glass on the table by the stem. When your gaze slid up his chest and neck and landed on his face, he asked you, "You've gotta tell me, what are you doing here? You could get a date just walking around Target in your pajamas."

You laughed and bit your lip, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "I don't wear pajamas," you told him with a smirk of your own.

Bradley sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I rest my case."

"What about you, Bradley? You're cute. I like your mustache. And thank God you're not wearing a suit. You could probably get a date just by shoving the previous guy out of his seat and asking me."

He nodded his head and tried not to smile. You were so fun. And you were quick on the draw. "We'll get there, babe. But actually... my best friend made me come tonight. She thinks I'm too picky when it comes to women."

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you like?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips again and taking another sip.

"So far, I like you. A lot."

Your cheeks were even more flushed now, and Bradley wanted to talk to you all night long.

"What do you look for in a guy?" he asked, leaning his forearms on the table to get a little closer to you.

You leaned a bit closer as well as you told him, "I need someone who can make me laugh. It doesn't hurt if he's handsome. And I think mustaches just moved to the top of my nonnegotiable list."

Bradley licked his lips. "And what's your ideal first date, babe? I'm planning on making it very memorable for you; already hoping for a second."

You laughed again. "Padres game. Complete with beer and ballpark nachos."

"Seriously, why are you here?"

You nibbled on your lip for a beat before you said, "My sister made me come. She said she's so tired of listening to me complain that there are no cute, funny, single guys with mustaches who aren't afraid to wear a green and yellow Hawaiian print shirt in public."

Bradley's entire body was humming. "There's nothing about you that would turn me off, is there?" he asked, and his voice was raspier now. 

He watched you lick your lips and shake your head. "No. Unless you can't stand smart girls who like to be a little sassy when they aren't wearing any pajamas."

Bradley audibly groaned and you giggled. 

"Rotate!" Connor called, and everyone was up and moving around.

"Fuck, no. I'm not moving, Connor!" Bradley called over his shoulder. Your eyes were glittering with amusement, and Bradley was going to leave this bar with you if it killed him.

Connor walked over and sighed. "You've already had five minutes together."

"That's not long enough. Have you seen her, Connor?" Bradley asked, nodding at you. "Fifty bucks if you tack on another five minutes, my man," Bradley promised him, making you crack up across the table. 

Connor just muttered, "Before he wouldn't sit down, now he won't get up." 

Bradley felt you take his hand in yours, and his eyes were immediately on your face. "Let's get out of here, Bradley," you suggested. "Go to another bar? Or go for a walk?"

"Absolutely," he replied, hopping up and pulling you to your feet.

You led him through the bar, smiling at him over your shoulder as you laced your fingers through his, and Bradley could already tell you were his perfect match.

------------------------------

Natasha was still shooting some pool with the guys when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to read a text from Bradley.

Rooster Bradshaw: YOU WERE RIGHT.

"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and down again.

------------------------------

Thanks for reading! There are plenty of other love song themed Top Gun: Maverick stories available here!

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@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-imgonnacry

@xoxabs88xox

[katsu28]

oooh kait i love the list!!

what about lando + 50. putting a hand over the other's mouth where lando is yapping abt smth?

got a little carried away with this but fuck it we ball

lando norris x sainz!reader, 1.7k. request something from here :)

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

You glance up from your phone to see a grinning Lando leaned up against the wall next to you, and you raise an amused brow. “It’s my brother’s wedding.” 

“Yeah, I know, I was just—” 

“Why would I not be here?” 

“Jesus, I was just trying to be funny, you don't have to be mean about it,” He huffs, bumping his shoulder against yours with a roll of his eyes. 

“Sorry, Lan. You’re just too fun to mess with.” You tease, reaching out to pinch Lando’s cheek. 

He scowls, batting your hand away haphazardly. “Carlos said you were gonna be here early to help get everything settled.” 

“Aw, were you waiting for me?” 

“No, I wasn't.” You shoot him a disbelieving look. “Okay, maybe I was. I had to work with your great aunt, and lemme tell you, that woman is handsy.” 

“Oh, you poor thing.” 

“I know. All because you abandoned me.” 

“I had to help Rebecca with some last minute adjustments. And besides, It takes time to look this good, Norris,” You tut, gesturing towards yourself. The bridesmaid dresses Rebecca had picked out are absolutely gorgeous. Hopefully gorgeous enough to get you what you want. 

“You do look amazing,” Lando murmurs, eyes not-so-subtly raking up and down your body a little too long to be considered innocent. Mission accomplished. 

“You don’t clean up too bad yourself,” You reply, letting your gaze do the same. His tailored suit fits him wonderfully, and his hair is styled to perfection. You fight the urge to run your fingers through his curls and ruin it by pulling him close. 

Things between Lando and yourself are…complicated, to say the least. You were both young when you’d met, all the way back in 2019 when Carlos had done his time with McLaren. Since then, you’ve both grown up, kept in touch, and somewhere along the way, you’d come to a realization. 

You like Lando. A lot. And you think he might like you back, but neither of you have done anything about it. You flirt with each other like people who have feelings for each other and tease each other like friends, dancing around the elephant in the room whenever you’re in the same vicinity. 

It certainly doesn’t help that Lando is one of your brother’s best friends. He looks up to Carlos, respects him as a mentor, and wouldn’t dare make a move against his baby sister. But honestly, you wish he just would. This back and forth is starting to get a little old. 

Now is as good a time as any, with Carlos distracted on his big day. And what was that again people said about weddings being the perfect chance for blossoming romance? 

Someone with a headset and a clipboard comes up and whispers something in your ear, cutting your moment with Lando short. You stow away your phone in your purse, already prepared to follow them to attend to whatever needs doing. 

“Duty calls. I’ll see you later, Lan,” You say, straightening Lando’s tie with a sweet smile aimed at him. “Don’t miss me too much.” 

Lando chuckles, looking equal parts fond and amused. “I’ll try my best.” 

The next time you see him is right before you're meant to walk down the aisle together. You take your mark right next to him, smoothing out your dress one last time before looping your arm through his. 

He leans towards you, lips almost brushing your ear with his whisper. “Missed you.” 

“Thought you said you’d try your best not to?” 

“Guess it wasn't good enough. Listen, can we talk later?” 

He sounds uncharacteristically serious, and it has you giving him a cautious sideways glance. “Of course,” You say. You nudge him gently with your elbow. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s good. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry.” 

“Well, now that you tell me not to worry, I think I might,” You reply, brows furrowing. 

“Then don’t.” 

“Seriously, Lando? You couldn't have waited until after the ceremony for this? I mean, honestly—” 

Suddenly his lips are on your cheek briefly, causing your outburst to die off mid sentence. You stiffen momentarily at the unexpected action. When you turn to gawk at him, he’s looking straight ahead, a satisfied little smile gracing his face. 

You don’t have time to process anything any further before you're being guided towards the beginning of the aisle. Straightening up, throwing your shoulders back, you tighten your fingers around your bouquet of flowers. 

Now isn’t the time. 

The ceremony goes swimmingly. There isn’t a dry eye in the place at seeing just how much Carlos and Rebecca love and cherish each other. Every so often, you’ll catch Lando’s eye across the aisle and he’ll wink back at you, settling your nerves at standing up there in front of everyone. 

You start to wonder what he wants to talk to you about. Your mind immediately goes to the worst possible thing, but surely it can’t be too bad. Right?

Lando doesn’t bring it up until well into the reception. He catches your eye from afar, tilting his head towards the nearest exit. Everyone is on the dance floor now, nobody would notice if you left. 

He slips out of the large hall silently and you follow a few seconds later, only startling a little bit when he grabs your hand and leads you further down the corridor until you can’t hear the lively music anymore. 

“What’s going on, Lando?”

He drops your hand in favor of starting to pace, rubbing his palms over his thighs nervously. “I’m gonna be really honest with you right now. Probably brutally honest. And it might fuck things up, but I think I might explode if I keep it in any longer.” 

“Uh…okay. That sounds concerning,” You say hesitantly, shifting on your feet. 

“It is. I mean, no, it’s not, it’s nothing but, I just…” 

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night, because you look absolutely stunning,” He blurts. “But not just today. I wanna kiss you all the time, and I know—I know I probably shouldn’t because Carlos is one of my best mates and you’re his little sister and he’d likely kick my ass if he ever finds out, but I don’t care, I—” 

“Lando,” You interrupt, fighting to keep your voice level. Finally, finally, something is happening. 

He continues on as if he hadn’t heard you at all. “—can’t keep doing this…this whatever thing we’ve been doing. I really like you, and I need you to know that even if it ruins our friendship.” 

Normally you’d entertain his yapping tendencies, but you want to tell Lando you feel the same way and he just keeps on talking like he’s the only one in this conversation, so you’re left with no choice. 

You push him back against the wall behind him with one hand splayed across his chest, the other hand coming up to cover his mouth. Lando’s ranting dies off the moment your hand touches his face, like you’ve just found his off switch and powered him down. 

“Can you please just shut up for a second?” You say exasperatedly. He nods quickly, completely doe eyed under your palm. “You gonna let me talk now?” Another nod, this one a little slower. “Good. I like you too. Have for ages.” 

Lando’s fingers curl around your wrist, prying your hand away from his mouth with furrowed brows. “You—you do? Really? Why’ve you never said anything?”

“Why haven’t you?” You shoot back, cocking your head. 

“Because…because!” He says incredulously, wrinkling his nose. “You’re Carlos’s little sister, I—he’d have my head.” 

You scoff. “Carlos isn’t my keeper, Lando. I’m an adult, I can make my own choices without having to consult my brother. If I want to date you, I can!” 

Lando’s gaze sharpens, the edges of his mouth curving into a smug little smile, and you know you’re in for it now. 

“Then let me take you out. On a proper date,” He proposes. It’s a bold move, considering you’ve still got him pinned against the wall with one hand, but his bluntness makes your focus flicker. 

Lando takes the opening and makes his move, now suddenly you’re the one with your back against the wall and he’s pushed himself closer than you’ve ever been before. For someone who was just worried about Carlos finding out mere seconds ago, he seems quite confident. 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” You ask softly, searching his face for any trace of doubt or uncertainty. What you’ve wanted for a long time is finally happening, but that doesn’t make you any less wary. If anything, it feels even more daunting. 

Slowly, Lando’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek almost delicately, like he’s afraid you might disappear into thin air if he moves too fast. His tongue darts out to wet his lips just before he leans in, deft fingers shifting from your cheek down under your chin, tilting your head up just enough to meet him in a gentle kiss. 

His lips are softer than you expect, tasting a little like the rum and cokes he’s been nursing all night mixed with something else sweet, and definitely living up to every dream you’ve ever had about this very moment. 

Lando’s thumb rubs along your cheek, a soft smile playing across his face when you break apart. “Believe me, I’m more sure about you than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.” 

You smooth out the lapels of his suit jacket from where your fingers had bunched into the material, beaming at him happily. “Always such a sweet talker, you.”

“Worked on you, didn’t it? I mean, it took years, but I’ve got you now, don’t I?” 

“Depends on where you take me on our date,” You joke. 

“Oh, I’ll take you anywhere you want, baby. Name it and it’s done.” 

“A sweet talker and a smooth talker. That could come in handy for when Carlos finds out.”

“No, it—why?” His voice squeaks on the last word, eyes widening almost comically.

You give his chest a firm pat, ducking out from under his arm to return to the reception. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, hm?”

“Sweetheart, c’mon! He won’t try to fight me, right? Right?” 

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[theobservatory]

What's in a Name｡⁠.ﾟ★ ˎˊ˗

｡⁠☆Synopsis: how they would name their children

｡⁠☆Cw: gender specific, talk of reader being pregnant

｡⁠☆CH: Damian ☆ Duke ☆ Tim ☆ Jason ☆ Dick ☆ Bruce

✧Bruce✧

Classic names for sure. He tends to lead very masculine for boys and very feminine for girls. It's not that he doesn't like gender neutral names, but it's not the natural place his brain goes when naming his kids.

Since he already has so many kids I doubt he would want anymore unless you did, and since he has almost entirely boys I'm giving him a girl lol. I already know that poor girl is going to find him insufferable when she becomes a teenager. He is the most overprotective dad around, he's not gonna want her to do nothing lmao.

For boys: Thomas, Arthur, Bennett, Dominic, Theodore, Charlie, Liam

For girls: Clara/Claire, Charlotte, Francesca/Francis, Theodosia, Lorelei, Evelynn, Alice

✧Dick✧

For girls: Summer, Josie, Mary, Leona, Elise, Simone, Willow

He loves sweet sounding names. He keeps it very wholesome. Every name he brings up is going to be soft and sweet, tho I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted a junior or a child named after his parents.

I did a poll and most people agreed he's a girl dad, but I can't help but imagine him with a son who's the spitting image of him, but also a momma's boy lol. In the end I went with an older girl and a younger boy a year apart. He's probably the best dad here tbh, I feel like he's just the type to go above and beyond for his kids.

For boys: John, Oliver, Adrian, Leo, Elias, Jonas, Henry

✧Jason✧

For boys: Roscoe, Demetri/Demetrius, Arlo, Thatcher, Adonis, Nicolas, Maximus

Leans towards stronger sounding names for either sex. Gender neutral names are brought up just as much as very masc or fem names. Like you can't tell me his favorite superhero isn't Wonder Woman, I would not be surprised if the first name he suggests is Diana.

Twin girls. Can you imagine his face when you tell him not only are you pregnant, but it's twins? He might pass out on the spot. I can also see him with another girl maybe a few years later, but whether she was planned or an accident is up in the air lol.

For girls: Cleo, Demetria, Vivian, Sloan, Devin, Blake, Ananias/Anias/Anania

✧Tim✧

For girls: Samantha, Erin, Kayla, Alexis, Monica, Alicia, Sydney

Gender neutral guy all the way. Just neutral names in general. He would probably bring you a baby name list that's just the top 20 names in the US rn, or he would go crazy trying to figure what the next most popular names are to get ahead of the curve. I also wouldn't be surprised if he wanted a junior or a kid named after his parents.

Tim is a boy dad, I don't think he could handle a girl in all honesty. Just one, maybe two, but with a giant age gap between them. Like I have an 18year age gap with my little sister, and if you have kids young I can definitely see this happening to y'all.

For boys: Luke, Derek, Ethan, Evan, Dakota, Jesse, Zachary

✧Duke✧

For boys: Lucas, Enzo, August, Everett, Amari/Amarion, Brooks, Dion

He also tends to go for names that everyone already has. He's perfectly fine with names not standing out in the slightest, I think he'd let you take most of the lead on naming a baby tbh.

I think after moving into the manor, he wants his children to grow up with a big family like he did. I can also see him as a foster parent or a social worker outside of his vigilantism, so maybe two or three biologically, but you still end up with a full house. The genders of your bio kids ? Still up in the air for me idk.

For girls: Mia, Parker, Nora, Eliana, Avery, Naomi, Zoey

✧Damian✧

For boys: Khari, Amir, Kylian, Imani, Nasir, Princeton, Isha

Like Jason, he also wants a strong sounding name. Though, I think he'd also want to incorporate his culture from nanda parbat into at least one of the names as well. I could also see him wanting something sweet or dainty for a girl, like he sees this tiny baby for the first time and just goes... No... You will be no warrior bc I will protect you forever. So dainty and small, like a tiny flower. I can also see him naming his children after anything royal or whatever, bc he's pretentious (adoring) like that.

Twin boys, and a girl a few years later. Much like Bruce I can already see his kids finding him unreasonable. Damian's a strict parent (unlike Bruce), but he's also incredibly overprotective. None of his kids can go anywhere or do anything without their father fretting over them.

For girls: Kala/Kali, Aaliyah, Aisha, Zahrah/Zaharah, Nyla, Ali, Meira

Tell me which names you like best, and your opinions on these headcanons as well (⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠♪ I will be picking from some of the names provided for any kid fics, unless one of y'all give me a better name, so feel free to give suggestions/tell me your fav baby names ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Thank you to my fav name consultant on tiktok and reddit for making this possible lol. Tbh I know people with a lot of these names, like I have a cousin named Nasir, and another named Imoni, and my little sister's name was almost Francesca. The websites just made me actually start considering them for what they are.

Also, my fav name from this list is Naomi. I've loved that name for years, idk what it is, but I adore that name. My least favorite name on this list is Thatcher. That shit is ass bro. It reminds me of the game I Want To Fuck Mr.Hatcher... just... Yuck.

｡⁠☆Requests Open

[caxasy]

caleb x male reader, based off of the card stage oberver bc i played it and ltr smirked the entire time bc mc is soooo me

-> implied childhood friends (atp assume every caleb x male reader is a childhood friends trope tbh), mc's name is lily, caleb is #gayaf <3

“oh my god, no way!” lily’s voice exclaimed, knelt over caleb’s belongings. “you won’t believe what i just found!”

“hm? snooping doesn’t get you anywhere, lily,” you chide her, not entirely interested as you help put away his belongings.

”snooping does in this case!” she bounds over to you with a smile on her face, “look what i found!”

“a piece of paper?” your eyes watch her expectantly, “and that is significant because…”

“because it’s not just a piece of paper! it’s a love letter, without a doubt!” she points at it, “look it’s got his favorite stickers plastered all around it!” she points to the little figures. an airplane, apples, oranges, and even some cute animal stickers.

“did you open it?” you ask, not out of curiosity, but more so in a warning way.

she shakes her head, “of course i wouldn’t actually read a love letter to caleb-oppa, that’s so weird! but, look at the evidence, it’s all pointing towards a love letter! it was even stuffed in his planner, the one written with all his assignments, which means he kept it there because it was something of utmost importance to him! what else would it be besides a love letter!” her rambling continued on as she followed you around his room. it seems she had given up cleaning and organizing in favor of trying to convince that what she had found was truly groundbreaking.

“hm, maybe it’s all those coupons he kept from you that you wrote when you two were kids,” you muse, not putting it past caleb to keep things like that. no, he definitely did, “it probably is, honestly. you know how he is and how he loves holding you to your word like that,”

she pouts, shaking her head, “he’s already used up all the ones i’ve given him…i think, or at least, that’s what it feels like,” she murmurs the last part of the sentence in a dejected tone, looking tired at the memory, “i swear he’s used countless coupons in the past couple months, just for stupid stuff too!”

“you’re the one that wrote them,” you comment, ruffling her hair to see her expression screw up in even more annoyance. “and if it isn’t coupons, then i have no clue what it is…or why we should even care,” you try subtly reminding her that caleb’s love life, if it was even that, isn’t necessarily your guys’ business.

“you don’t care? what if someone steals caleb from us? he’s already graduating — learning that he’s getting into a committed relationship just means less time for us!” she reasons and you almost chuckle at her obviously, very serious concerns.

“who’s stealing who exactly?”

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

lily nearly squeaked before she hurriedly shuffledso that your taller figure was blocking her body from caleb’s view, hiding what she was doing, quite literally, behind your back.

“nothing, lily just has a raging suspicion-”

the girl had immediately covered your mouth with her hand, standing on her tippy toes to do so. you tilted your head in confusion, widening your eyes at her as if silently saying “what gives?” but she just shushed you with her finger to her lips.

“nothing, i was just saying…how messy your room is! and how you have so much stuff! like, how are you even going to fit this all in one suitcase?” she starts rambling, a habit that she has when she lies, but caleb doesn’t press on further. instead, he opts to wave his hand at her dismissively.

“i can sort through the most of it by myself,” he says in a matter-a-fact tone.

“oh, so you just invited us here days earlier from your actual graduation to show off then?” you tease, looking around at his room, “i mean, look at all the photos on your desk of the friends you’ve made, its cute how much of a social butterfly you are, caleb,”

he looks at the stray photostrips and pictures he has on his desk, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, “well, those photobooths always give extras, so i can’t just not take them,”

”it’s good to see you were well acquainted, they all look so friendly,” you say, a smile on your face as your eyes trace over the photographs.

your words seem to snap lily out of her stupor as she rushes forward and begins observing the photo, scanning all of the faces in the pictures.

“wait, tell us about all of them! i want to know more!” her enthusiasm seems off-putting to both you and caleb, but the latter doesn’t say anything and decides to appease her. he lists off of a lot of names, noting their relationship to him with simple words like “classmate” or “study-buddy”.

“why didn’t you have any girl friends? girl, space, friends?” now this made caleb falter slightly, confusion written across his face.

”uhm, i don’t know? they just weren’t in my social circle like that,” he says it casually, as if it’s really not all that important. but to lily, and her mission in proving that caleb has a secret, hidden girlfriend, it’s of all the importance.

“you’re such a liar! all the girls in highschool would woo over you, you mean to tell me they didn’t even try being your friend in college?” she scoffed at the idea, showing how unbelievably a bad liar caleb was being. but he was telling the truth.

“i’m not interested in girls anyway!” he exclaims in defense of himself, eyes flickering to you in realization of what he said before he corrected it, “er- i mean! getting to know girls like that! ugh, pip-squeak! you and your silly questions are really making my mind melt!” his gaze looked at your reaction for a split second, but he snapped his head away from your eyes when they made eye contact with his. the reaction made you quirk your brow up in intrigue.

meanwhile, lily just giggles behind her hand, enjoying the way her interrogation is playing out, “hm, your reaction says otherwise! i think maybe you have a secret you’re not telling me and oppa,” hearing yourself be dragged into the conversation, you lazily look over at the two. “i’ll get it out of you eventually, dummy caleb!”

“why do you even care that much? weirdo…” caleb murmurs, walking away from her and to get some of his things off of his bed, which was scattered with a bunch of belongings.

he reaches for his planner, spraying the pages open in fluidity. he repeated it a couple of more times before dropping it onto the bed and looking through the other stuff in front of him.

if you hadn’t known him better, you would think he was just looking for something underneath all of his junk. but you and lily could see it; the hint of franticness and panic in his movements. without even seeing his face, he seemed to be more frenzied than a couple seconds earlier.

“uhm, are you okay, caleb?” you ask, walking over and seeing his face, eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“i’m, uh, fine. just looking for something,” he explains in a rush, “you guys haven’t touch the things on my bed, yet, right?”

you shake your head, speaking for yourself before looking over at lily, who you know for a fact did. that’s where she got that “love letter” from anyway, that planner that caleb just flipped through about 10 times.

“nope, not yet,” you deadpan at her lie, but caleb seems to believe her. he runs his hand through his hair before shaking his head.

“nevermind, i’ll look for it later,” he turns around to face you properly, taking your wrist in his hand and pulling you with him, “let’s head out for some fresh air, i have to do some shopping for dinner,”

you and lily share a look of confusion, wondering what got caleb all jumpy. hurriedly, you grab onto her wrist as well, caleb now dragging the two of you out of his dorm room and onto the streets of skyhaven.

when you arrive at the supermarket, lily glues herself to your side to continue gossipping about the supposed love letter she found, “see? he wouldn’t act that way unless it was a love letter! i kind of want to read it now,” there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, but you flick her forehead in disapproval.

”why don’t you just ask him, lily?”

“but there’s no fun in that! i want to hear him say it,” she whines, punching your shoulder, right before holding your arm close to her body. the two of you walk in sync with each other, as she pressed her cheek to your sleeve. “it’s interesting to think about caleb getting a girlfriend, isn’t it?”

your face makes an expression she can’t read, “not really, he’s charming and like you said before, he’d always get attention in highschool,”

“yeah, but highschool isn’t even serious,” she waves her hand, eyes rolling, “didn’t people confess to you all the time too? and look where you’re at now! still single!” she sticks her tongue out at you, teasing you.

“haha,” your mocking laughter makes her giggles even louder, “don’t speak as if you know everything either, lily, you graduated from highschool, like, last year,”

“i know enough,” she says with finality, “i know that caleb was super worried about that letter and he was super flustered explaining his girl-friend situation earlier. he’s probably thinking of her right now,” she sighs, dreamily almost, as if she’s envisioning caleb and his secret relationship. “one of you needed a girlfriend sooner or later, i’m kind of glad it’s caleb! means that he can stop hogging you all to himself, finally some lily and [name] time together!”

“nobody hogs anybody,” you try to reason, but she just rolls her eyes and pouts, “plus, i’d be happy for him too, but you’re beyond excited,” you laugh, finding her investigation equally odd and endearing.

“what are you two talking about over there? stop making me look like a guy that’s here all by myself,” caleb halts in his step, waiting for you two to catch up before he grabs your hand, “c’mon, hyung, i need help picking what meat we should have for dinner tonight,”

“hey! i was just talking to him!” lily cries out, following after you as caleb tugs you away.

“yeah, and you’ve been talking to him for the entire day — my turn, pip-squeak,” he says, tone light and not that serious, but his expression doesn’t have a hint of a joke being told. you’d call it a warning glare, but it wasn’t that hostile…right?

“ugh, just like i said, hogging,” lily comments to herself, busying herself in looking at the snack and chip section. “i’ll be waiting here!”

”that wasn’t very kind, caleb,” you chide, once again playing peace maker between the two. he just shakes his head, grip on your wrist only tightening.

“you guys are only here for a couple of days before i have to be sent off to that program, even farther away from home than skyhaven. you two spent the entire day yesterday and today together. meanwhile, i haven’t even been able to spend more than 10 minutes with you — alone,” caleb’s ramblings make you affectionately ruffle his hair, a sad smile on your face.

“okay, well, we’re here together now so it’s okay. don’t be so mean to lily next time, though,”

he rolls his eyes at the mention to mind his manners again, “she knows what she’s doing and she always gets away with it because you let her!”

“careful how you speak, one would think you dislike her — which we both know is the opposite. you adore lily,” you say as if reminding him, but he just groans.

“only don’t like her when she takes away my time from you,” he says, leaning more into your figure. the height difference between you two wasn’t much, the shoes you were wearing making you only a couple of centimeters taller than him. but when he was hunched over, into your frame, it made him look shorter and smaller than he actually was.

“oh, you big baby,” you run your hand through his dark hair, tugging at the roots at the base of his neck, “c’mon, tell me what you want to eat and i’ll choose the best ones,” you coax him, making him unbury his head from your neck and look at the selection.

“pork belly,” he says simply, before turning his head back into your skin, breathing you in.

“oooh, you have a grill in your dorm? we can have samgyeopsal,” it was almost mouth watering to think about.

“hm, we will have to use the shared kitchen but no one would mind, so it’s fine,” he leans more of his weight on you, making you chuckle slightly at his clingy behavior, “it sounds yummy. promise to grill my meat for me?” he asks gently, making you smile at his childish request.

“of course i will. should we leave lily to fend for herself then?”

he laughs as if the joke you told was too funny, but that’s only because he knows that lily would never grill her own meat, relying on one of you two to do it for her, “yeah, just wait to see how that’ll play out,”

“probably another fight between the two of you,”

“probably,” caleb hums, watching you with a dreamy smile on his face.

he’s been trying to keep his need to be near you to a minimum, but he’s feeling a bit too angsty to hold back. ever since you’ve arrive, as he told you earlier, he’s barely had any alone time with you. he thought that the three of you were going to sleep in his dorm room for the entire stay until his graduation day, but the academy wouldn’t let him.

so, an unfortunate solution was you and lily rooming together in a hotel that was a couple of blocks down. and since the school was being strict on curfews and staying out anywhere that wasn’t your own dorm, he wasn’t able to stay the nights with you guys. he assumes the academy is just paranoid of the big graduation ceremony being ruined, but it just annoyed him to no end.

he was only able to spend, what felt like, passing moments with you. so he was really trying to soak in the alone time you two would get now, even if it was in the supermarket.

it didn’t help that he couldn’t find one of his most prized possessions earlier. the thing that was hidden in his planner, that he strategically kept there so he always knew where it was. his fingers twitched in anxiety at the thought of it being currently missing. he swallowed harshly, reminding himself to turn his room upside down until he found it. he wouldn’t leave until it was back with him, safe.

the letter he thought was missing when it was currently sitting in lily’s purse that was slung over her shoulder.

only because it was a letter you had written for him to only open once he graduated from college. what was written inside, he had no idea. and he had been so patient — for years since you had handed it to him — to not open it and take a peak at it. but now that it was time for him to properly unravel and read it, it goes missing.

it was enough to make worry and anxiety creep into his mind every couple of seconds. he had to find that letter. it was the one thing that kept pushing him along on nights where the assignments became too much, when the exams were so stressful. it was his grounding anchor to keep going until he was finished. he thought of it as his ultimate reward coming from you.

he needed that letter.

... should i make a pt 2 ...

[deepspacedarling]

How The LADS Boys Miss You When You’re Gone

Warnings: Angst. These boys miss you.

AN: I was thinking of that quote from Spongebob "What do you do when I'm normally at school?" "Wait for you to come back." and honestly, it's the LADS boys with MC. So, here's some sad headcanons for them waiting for you to come back.

Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb

Xavier

Some people used to think that Xavier was really emotionless but they don’t think that anymore. Ever since you left for a mission without him, he’s been in a mood and everyone just hopes you come home soon.

He wakes up every morning and when he reaches out, your side of the bed is cold just like it has been since you left. He just wants to go back to sleep. You’re there in his dreams at least.

He occasionally goes to the arcade while you’re gone. It’s not as fun without you there but he tries to win plushies to surprise you with later.

He kind of just goes through the motions until you come back. Get up, go to work, hunt wanderers, go home, make dinner, burn it and eat it anyway, go to bed. The second you are home, he buries his face into your shoulder and just breathes you in. He's so happy you're home.

Zayne

If it’s even possible, he works harder. He’d rather be at the hospital saving lives than go home to an empty house. He’s exhausted but it’s the only way to get his mind off of you.

He tries to call you occasionally. He doesn’t want you to feel suffocated by him but he misses you and he needs to hear your voice. On the phone, he's more indifferent sounding but he's secretly hanging off of every word you say trying to memorize the sound of it. He misses you so much.

He eats little more candy than usual. He's stressed and the sugar sometimes helps. He sometimes goes to the cafe you both frequent together but it's not the same without you there.

When you get back, he's shocked to see you standing there so suddenly even if he knew you'd be home soon. He gives you a warm hug that's just a bit too tight. He spends the rest of the night grateful to have you home.

Rafayel

If you didn’t tell him where you were going, he’ll go looking for you. You’ve got some nerve just abandoning him again. He’s not going to let you get away that easily.

If you did tell him, then he’ll groan and complain until you get back. Poor Thomas is fighting for his life the entire time you're gone. He listens to Rafayel whine and groan. The man's five seconds away from listening to love ballads at full volume and Thomas is five seconds from strangling him.

His paintings and sketches take a little bit more of a melancholic turn. Storms at sea, large oppressive waves, cloudy skies. They’ll make a killing at the auctions but he’s too depressed to care. Everything just loses its color when you’re not around.

He sends you texts often to show you random things in the beach he found and just remind you that he’s still there waiting for you to come home.

Sylus

Luke and Kieran avoid him as much as they can when he gets like this. On the outside, Sylus is still the picture of poise and elegance. It doesn't look like your absence bothers him at all but they know better. Sylus is a walking nerve ready to hiss at the first thing that displeases him. And they will NOT be the ones to piss him off.

He'll buy a bunch of things that remind him of you. A cute plushie he saw in a window? You'd love it. Bought. A new outfit? It would look perfect on you. Bought. A new state of the art phone? Maybe you'll ANSWER HIS MESSAGES FASTER NEXT TIME. Bought. He'll shower you with the gifts when you get back.

He sends Mephisto out to keep an eye on you. Through Mephisto's eyes, he sees that you're find but you're. not. here. So, he broods. He waits. He kills a couple of people who displease him a little more violently than he normally would.

He's a live wire up until the point that Mephisto comes back to him and he realizes that that means you're back as well. When you finally come home, he says a teasing remark about how it "took you long enough" to get home. But you notice through the night that

Caleb

When you’re not around, it taxes every moment of Caleb’s day. He spent so long without you, can you blame him for looking for you everywhere? People make jokes and he pictures you laughing. He buys dinner and pictures you eating with him. You don't understand. He NEED you to come home already.

Every moment you’re gone, he can’t help but think about what could be happening to you. Gideon has to talk him out of getting on the first plane to fly to you multiple times while you're gone.

He watches a lot of the old videos he has of you on his phone. Ever since the explosion, all the stuff from your childhood is more or less gone and since your reunion, he’s been trying to make up for it by taking as many pictures and videos as possible. He'll watch them over and over again until you get back.

He always makes too much food and he doesn’t notice until he’s started plating it and he realizes that he only needs enough for one. He’ll put the food in the freezer. You’ll love it when you finally come home.

Requests are Open!

[foreingersgod]

Softcore . CH

paring: caroline harvey x reader

synopsis: is this love really worth saving? or has it already run its course?

wc: 3.8k

A/N: this came out a lot like "champagne coast" that i wrote for caitlin clark, so if you like fics like this, you should go check that one out as well :)

this one is dedicated to @wnba123! sorry it took so long for me to get to your request queen; hope you like it!

WARNING!!! this fic is angst to comfort/smut!!! this piece will be completely SFW up UNTIL THE DIVIDER. if you do not wish to engage with the smut portion or are a man or a minor. please heed this warning and do not read past the warning line. thank you!

it's exhausting. exhausting to mourn someone who's still alive. who sleeps next to you nearly every night, shares your home, your heart, your soul.

but it feels like she's already left you, at least, in all the ways that matter. her laugh no longer lights the room, her eyes drifting away from yours-off to some reality you can't reach. you talk, but it's nothing more than an empty echo down a hallway. you kiss her, but her lips are cold and rough, like pressing your lips to a memory. you hold her, but you almost feel fuller when you're alone.

you never thought that this is where you'd stand, in a love that's fighting to stay alive. at least not with caroline. but you can feel it, the ember that's begging to be fed, it's there.

you probably should've seen it coming, and you battled yourself every day for it. that you were a fool, and you've been playing that role for much longer than you had realized. letting this sense of unfamiliarity unravel until it pushed both of you to your limits. because how are you supposed to bury a love that's still breathing?

but maybe it wouldn't be hurting this much if it hadn't once been so beautiful.

you met when you were both sixteen-awkward and loud and painfully alive with so much to give. she'd write you love letters, shove them into the crack of your locker. you'd wear her favorite hockey sweatshirt for 2 years straight, well-loved with the scent of her lingering on it even after washing it. you'd sit with each other under the bleachers, the world around you ready to prepare you for it all to end. but you never grew out of it, rather you grew up into it.

college, jobs, your first apartments. then eventually your first apartment together. promise rings that didn't feel rushed-it felt inevitable.

but somewhere between the 9 a.m. meetings and the late-night grocery runs. between the laundry piles and forgotten kisses, something slipped. she'd come home tired, sweaty and frustrated with dreams so big they'd weigh her down. and you'd stay quiet, elbow deep in dirty dishes with a shoulder ready to cry on.

you'd shamefully scroll on your phone during dinner-if you even bothered to sit together anymore-because it was far easier than trying to make mindless small talk. with every 'how was your day', there was a 'fine' and it hurt. you'd sleep facing away. not in anger, just habit. and she'd do the same. every so often a hand would brush against your thigh, a faint apology whispered in your ear when she came home exasperated once again.

but you still love her. always have and always will. you loved her so much that your devotion was merely intensified by her absence. though it's so quiet now-how this love has turned out to be.

she'd used to hold your hand in the car, caress her thumb over yours at painfully long red lights. now her hands stay glued to the steering wheel. she used to trace the letters of your initials on your bare back before bed because she knew the feeling soothed you, now you run your own fingers up and down the length of your arm instead.

you catch yourself staring at her sometimes. just searching. trying to find the young girl you fell in love with all those years ago. the girl you kissed on the football field after sneaking out of junior prom, the girl who ditched class just so she could have lunch with you every day. the girl who once said "i want every version of you, even the ones you don't like".

and maybe she was in there still, rather you knew she was. but is she too far gone to save at this point? because it's easier to pretend nothing's wrong than to admit that it's broken, even if you both know it.

you weren't even trying to start something that night. it was late, a long a grueling thursday. one of those nights where the silence is louder than the TV, the traffic outside your apartment blaring louder than usual. you were folding laundry on the couch, a hamper between your legs as you tossed t-shirt after t-shirt into a stack next to you.

you had been particularly sad that day, waking up without your girlfriend next to you. early practices again, it had seemed. she didn't even bother to tell you. suddenly in that moment, it all came crashing down on you. the weight of the uncertainty ahead of you gripping at your heart. it must've been hours that you cried that morning, uncontrollable and inconsolable. you couldn't stand it anymore.

she had walked into the apartment quietly at around 10 p.m., barely acknowledging your presence on the couch as she locked the door behind her. you could already tell from the way her shoulders slumped and the way her eyes glistened in the lamp light, that she was starting to feel the weight of all this too. or maybe it was just the way she never looked at you anymore-not really.

few words were exchanged as she slipped off her shoes, letting her bag fall to the ground. you offered her a sweet smile as you reminded her that dinner was in the fridge for her. surprisingly, she smiled back and retreated to the kitchen to eat for probably the first time that day. you could see her, from the opening between the living room and the kitchen, that she was picking at her meal, head down and phone in her hands.

you weren't sure what summoned the courage in that moment. could've been fear, could've been exhaustion. but you remember opening your mouth just so slightly, muttering out the vaguest of words.

"we don't talk anymore"

there was a pause, the clanking of silverware on porcelain, the impact of her phone on the countertop. every noise just a little too crisp for your liking.

then, finally looking at you in the eyes for the first time all night, she spoke. "we're talking now"

that did it. flipped the switch in you for good, all the feelings from that morning bubbling up past your throat.

you let out a dry laugh as you dropped the hoodie you had just folded on the coffee table in front of you. back extending from the irritation curling in your spine, you leaned back on the couch with a furrowed look on your face.

"you think this counts? this isn't talking" you huffed, trying not to escalate a situation that hadn't fully begun "this is coexisting, this is pretending"

she stood, with the same composure she held when she arrived home, as she propped herself against the edge of the kitchen island. her arms were crossed, face unreadable, shoulders rolled back.

"what do you want me to say?"

"i want you to say something," you snapped "anything real, truthfully. i want you. i want you to stop looking through me like i'm a ghost"

her voice was tight, and you could see her jaw clench as she bit down harshly on the inside of her cheek "i'm doing my best okay? i-i go to practice, i'm going to classes, and then i'm here. i'm home with you, i'm showing up-"

"no you're not!" you cut in with a raise in your voice, throwing up your arms in disbelief. did she really think that? that she was here, like she had always been and nothing had changed? "you're physically here, yeah, but everything else? your heart, your head? you left months ago and you didn't even tell me"

silence. your voice cracked, a sob pushing at the back of your ribs, spilling past your chapped lips. you breathed deeply as you fought back the tears.

"maybe," she said, softly, arms uncrossing as she ran her hands down her face in defeat "i didn't want to admit it. that something was off, that i was off"

you blinked, tears welling at your lash line, frozen in place "what does that mean?"

you studied her expression, her body language. she looked beat, bags like tattoos underneath her eyes, hair unkempt and disheveled. it wasn't just an end-of-day look of weariness. it was like her soul was slowly shattering.

"i think we're too young" she choked up, regret laced in her tone "i-i think we got caught up in forever you know? before we even figured out who we were. we went from prom to rent, from curfews to car payments. and i don't know-i'm tired"

"tired of what?" you trembled "of me?"

"no. don't twist this. i'm tired of whatever this has been, we both know that. we jumped into life like we had it all figured out at sixteen"

that was it. too young. too soon.

you had danced around that significant detail forever. both of you too afraid to say it out loud, to risk losing what had become your normal, not wanting to lose everything you had built.

"so what, you-" you cleared your throat, finally letting a single tear spill "you think this was a mistake?"

"i think we didn't know what we were giving up," she shook her head, coming over to sit on the couch next to you, the cushion dipping under her weight "i never got to find out who i was without you-and that's not fair to you either"

you felt like your world just came crumbling down, her words like a plague. years of love and passion, absolutely destroyed. how could this be true, how could she possibly believe all this? this may have been what you feared all along; you were the fool who only held her back.

"then go" you said through gritted teeth, shutting your eyes like this would all go away if you wished hard enough "if you want the space-to find yourself or whatever, then go. i'm not going to hold you here"

"that's not what i'm saying" she said desperately. then you felt the pressure, her hand on your upper thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze. igniting that sense of comfort you knew you once had.

"then what are you saying exactly?"

she didn't answer right away. she just looked at you, like she was seeing you for the first time in a long time. caroline watched as you unraveled in front of her, bursting into dreadful tears and worried hiccups. she saw the way you brought a hand up to support your forehead, like the pressure of it all had knocked the wind out of you.

"babe," she said through the tension "i miss you, i miss us. i miss the way we used to look at each other like this was all worth something in the end. now i just feel like this weight dragging you down. i'm so busy with this idea of success, to be the best girlfriend, the best teammate and player...i don't know. i miss not being like this"

you felt your breath catch on what felt like nothing. but you noticed it, the slight shift in the room. nothing was fixed, nothing was healed, but maybe there was a lick of hope that teetered between you. with glossy eyes, you looked over at her and sighed.

"i still see her, you know?" you briefly smiled "that dorky teenage girl who would throw rocks at my bedroom window just so she could say goodnight. that treated me like her entire world even if it may have been too soon, the one who promised she'd never stop loving me. i still see her"

it was her turn to return your smile, her genuine laugh cascading through the room "i think i may have lost her through all the bills and late nights. probably when we stopped kissing each other goodnight"

you swallowed with an ache of motivation in your chest, biting at your lips. her expression mirrored yours, just two lost hearts searching for the right answer. though part of you wished you could pause the moment, scared for what was about to come next. you'd hoped you could soak this in for just another minute, truly memorize the remorse written all over your girlfriend's face.

"i think," you said gently "if we try-really try-we can find her again. same for me, i'm not innocent in any of this. but babe, i-i don't want to lose you. i want to be us again"

she leaned in close to you, hand still resting on your leg, barely an inch between you two. you could feel her breath against your cheek as you leaned back, lips ghosting over hers.

"even if they've changed?" she whispered.

"especially if they have" you said "we're a little lost but...i think we've found the map"

she reached for your hand first-tentative, like it was fragile. then, without a second thought, you placed your hand against her freckled cheek and brought her in closer to you.

finally, after all the silence, she closed the gap between you with a kiss. it wasn't rushed, nor was it cinematic. but it was slow and sweet, careful and desperate. it felt like you had been underwater after all this time, and you were finally getting the chance to breathe again.

it was the kind of kiss that didn't erase the pain but promised to stay through it.

"i don't want to go," she said as she pulled away, resting her forehead on yours "what you said before. i don't want to go be someone else, i wanna stay right here"

it was like she was surrendering. putting her heart on her sleeve to show you this was worth it to her. sure, you may have been young, but you certainly didn't fall out of love. this was your girl, your everything, your absolute soulmate. neither one of you intended to let go anytime soon, even if all you had were promises.

"then don't" you panted, passion taking over your body. you trailed your hands down to her chest, fingers clenching onto the fabric like you might lose her as you pulled her against your lips once more. this time, this kiss had been hungry and pure.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

she groaned quietly into mouth at your sudden sense of boldness. her fingers reached for your hair, tangling in your soft locks. she was grasping onto you with the same urgency. there was no letting go. not after this.

your hands were firm against her torso, fingertips roaming the cotton of her top like you'd never touched such a material. you were drawing her in like gravity had finally kicked in, like your bodies were catching up to what your minds already knew-you weren't done with her yet. you were far from it, in fact. the heat between you was electric, but it wasn't just lust. it was years. it was history and heartache, a collection of the love you and caroline had reveled in since you were in high school.

"are you sure?" she asked, forcing you to look at her. she didn't need to say anything else, the fire building between you made it clear what she was talking about. you nodded, your fingers tracing her cupids bow delicately. even after all this distance, she still wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

her lips moved with purpose, with need, like she was pouring all her apologies and promises into every second. It was a kiss that said don’t ever doubt me again, a kiss that said I’m still here. You responded with the same vulnerability, parting her lips with yours, your hand rising to cradle the back of her neck, keeping her close, grounded.

her hands snaked below the hem of your shirt and spread across your chest, palming your breasts just enough to make you gasp. you hadn't felt her touch you like this in so long-like she actually wanted you, still after all these years. nothing forced, just an incessant need to have you.

and god, you needed to have her too.

"i can't tell you how much i missed this" she muttered against your jaw as you kissed down her neck, tasting the saltiness of her post-practice skin. but oddly it was sweet, something far more intimate than just sex "let me take you to bed?"

with a satisfied hum, you let her assist you off the couch. her hands were still on your waist, lips still grazing that one spot that made you weak. it was a chaotic walk to the bedroom, a mess of exasperated giggles and discarded clothes until the back of your knees met with the edge of your bed.

"please," caroline spoke again threw the heated kisses. you could feel her shudder against you, her skin forming small bumps underneath your fingertips. she reluctantly forced her lips off of yours as she laid you down against the linen sheets, climbing ever so carefully to hover over you "please"

you chuckled, feeling her maneuver down your body, resting her head against your chest. but your laughter soon stopped when you felt wetness fall onto your abdomen.

was she crying?

"baby," you cooed, taking a hold of her chin to motion her to look up at you "please what? what's wrong?"

she glanced up at you with panic in her eyes. tears fell down her flushed cheeks gingerly as she sniffled. you waited patiently for her to answer as you ran your hand along her shoulder to settle her. you couldn't quite explain the look on her face-the way her body felt completely bare against you-but it was the most painful yet calming thing you had ever seen. she looked so unguarded in front of you, ready to lay everything out for you to take. but she had seemed firm, ready to tackle the growth that this relationship desperately needed.

"let me stay," her voice quivered as more tears fell "i'm so sorry. for everything. i don't want to find myself if it means losing you-so please just...let me stay"

"caroline" your heart broke just hearing that sentence, twinging at the thought of her thinking you actually wanted her gone "you're home, you're my home. i don't think i'd survive if you left"

a hard puff billowed from her throat in relief "i'm gonna be better i swear"

"i know," you smiled "we both will"

and then the world around you melted, it was just the two of you in the confinements of your bedroom. caroline didn't waste another second to get her hands on you again, and you weren't complaining. you'd waited forever to feel like this again.

her lips moved towards your navel as she traveled lower and lower down your figure, cherishing every inch of you. you let out a content sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you let your bodies do all the talking. you feared you'd both be crying if you said much else.

the chill air made you shiver, but caroline was quick to warm you as she breathed against your core. you felt needy and hot, almost impatient as she took her time admiring you. reminiscing on these moments where you were splayed out just for her. but you were growing weary the more dottled.

"don't tease" you whined into vacancy.

"m'not" she grinned "i'll give you want you need baby, don't worry. let me take care of you"

always one to give, always one to please. and you loved it. her palms planted against the plushness of your thighs, spreading you even more open than you already were. kisses trailed from the inside of your legs then finally to where you needed her most-whining when she placed a delicate kiss to your needy pussy.

"fuck," you said, one hand instinctively coming up to grasp at your tits, the other flying to the back of her head to keep her in place.

she moaned into you, loving the pressure as she quickened her pace. her tongue glided across your pussy, flattening out to lick a long and slow stripe. you bit at your lip to try and submerse your whimpers, hearing her hum slightly as she flicked her tongue over your clit relentlessly, only making you grasp at her hair tighter.

that did nothing but motivate her, giving her the reassurance she'd been craving since she got you naked. her tongue continued its assault against you despite your quiet pleas and restless movements, her eyes looking up at you like you were sent from the gods themselves.

"fuck, i love you so much" she said, temporarily releasing your clit from between her lips "you have no idea"

your brows raised in anticipation as you felt the pressure build up in your lower stomach, watching her in awe when she buried her face back in between your thighs. your legs began to tremble and your knuckles grew white the closer you got to release.

"i love you too," you blabbered "i love you i love i love you, shit, i'm so close"

"taste so good," she responded, the strokes of her tongue getting sloppier by the second, enticing a short cry out of you.

you jerked forward, back arching off the mattress when you felt her speed up. the wetness that accumulated from your cunt, mixed with that of her mouth was just enough to send you over the edge. she could sense that you were close, letting her tongue prod at your entrance to move in and out of you-exactly what she knew you liked. she remained steady with you, watching you closely as you fucked yourself on her mouth.

"that's it, that's it" you cried, letting your hips buck against her face. your body spasmed as your orgasm began to take over, eyes rolling back from the sensation "fuck i'm gonna come, oh my god"

"there you go, baby" she mumbled into your pussy, absolutely lost in the feeling of you coming undone on her mouth "come for me, i got you"

you let out one last long moan as you relished your high, chest rising and falling to catch your breath. caroline was quick to remove herself from her position, only to hover over you once more for a kiss. your heart was pounding, brain fuzzy and body still twitching.

"you okay?" her voice muffled through the kiss. you nodded, smirking as you felt your taste still on her tongue.

"more than okay," you said. she smiled back before laying down beside you, brushing your messy hair from your face in the process. you allowed yourself to completely envelop yourself around her, limbs tangling with hers loosely.

after a few minutes of silence-your skin on hers, hearts beating in unison, touches wandering-she found the will the speak.

"we're gonna be okay, right?" she said. you breathed, silencing her worry as you rubbed circles with your thumb against her cheekbone.

"yeah, baby" you beamed "we always are"

[shuenkio]

愛 I want your Salty ! - 이희승

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader

Synopsis ; It was a teasing joke but who knows your boyfriend would actually let you taste his "Salty" Water?

Genre: Smut Cw: Smau. Non proof read

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A/n: ik there'd be some part that different from the starter, since my brain is not braining— anyway.

In a day of normal life of Mn who always wanted someone who can understand him and can handle him at his worst not only his emotion but his behavior too since he know himself that, he can't control his running lip and thought sometime despite being a random rambler person, and it was just a dream and hoping to find a perfect boyfriend right? right but not until someone like his tinder profile, and text him that they want to meet him, a normal single date between two guys wouldn't hurt a try, so Mn give it a short, lower his expectation and standard so he can take anything they could offer.

Lord have mercy, it not what Mn have expected, the person who asked him out on a date named, Heeseung is just far more than he could imagine after exchange each other life story. Mn was about to explode after learning that Heeseung was just as much as him, just a different body at least, he was casual, blunt, quite, bold and understandable kind of person which make it so perfect if he would be Mn's boyfriend.

Which soon turn to be true, it not Mn who asked the taller if he had a partner, it the other way around. the red hair didnt play once he also find his perfect love on a random day and he would let it slip into thin air? not a chance, after the date end that day, he immediately asked Mn out and asked him to be his, not for a time being but forever, and when Mn ensure about a second thoughts, Heeseung didn't care one bit if there any negative about Mn, He calmy response he know when he see one and that's not his Mn. And the answer cannot be No, if Hee want it he would do anything....

Present time

The day fall into dark, replace by the thousands stars filled the empty sky, the moon were amazing today, it light shine bright through every corner of the busy night city. Mn and Heeseung just got back from running errands today and making both of their ways back to their shared apartment home. Due to the hot weather from the day, when Mn spotted a ice cream truck he was thinking to grab some to cool down their body, and Heeseung just go along with it, anything for his Boyfriend.

And they continue on their way back home, as both of them have ice cream in their palm, licking, sucking, savoring the taste with it cold and yummy flavor. As Mn was eating, he is licking a scoop of ice cream which make his brain freeze for a moment. Heeseung chuckled to the sight, find t amusing and adorable when Mn acting like a toddler. Mn knot his brows together, his expression turn to a fake sulking that draw more laugh from the latter. The good time last for a while, before an idea pop up when Mn thought of something that could make his Boyfriend stun or even freaking shock.

"Stop snorting, This ice cream was too sweet that i could get diabetes ugh why don't you help me" Mn let out a sassy sigh and look away, hoping he would respond to his favor.

"By what, i don't have anything on me except a bottle of water, do want it?" Hee claimed, as he was about to pull out a water bottled from his backpack but was stopped why Mn comments.

"Oh so you thought i want that bland water? joke on you i want a salty one- from You" Smirk appear on Mn face, express the teasing in his tone with a hint of actually want it, knowing that Heeseung won't do such thing, and Mn know his taller bf know what he mean. Result Heeseung to turn his head slowly toward his lover, raise one of his eyebrows,That's even Mn cant even read his face.

Yet he not actually looking and pay much attention to Mn right now, Hee looking for a nearby restroom.

"What are you looking for? Don't take it seriously i was joking let's go back home, it getting late" Mn disappointed and awkward ate him up as nothing slip from Heeseung lip, it was pure silent. Mn was ready to go back home at instant only to get his back collar hooked by Heeseung's finger and dragging Mn to the restroom nearby.

"Don't be, i never said i would not give what you want, you said what you said right?"

"Heeseung....!"

////

Inside the empty restroom, with barely nobody came across at this hour, Heeseung and Mn were in the same stall, just the two of them.

With Heeseung sitting on the toilet, Mn were sitting down on the floor. A lopsided grin painted in the taller face as his fingers dug into the waistband of his pants, all at once before pool down everything on his ankle, with a quite a shift of the fabric, his cock was exposed- vulnerable in a way that giving Mn access to his liking, the cool air brushing over the heated skin making him twitching and throbbing.

"Go on suck it like how you wanted, i don't mind since you like it"

Mn blinked, jaw ticking slightly, like his brain had short circuited but refused to believe what his lover just did.

"Uhhh can i even?-"

"If you don't I'm going to make you yourself darling, do it as you please, suck my cock until it dripping, leaking, and load you milk by the time it fucking drown your throat, like you want it Mn, my salty cum- do i need to say more?"

Heeseung even making sure he was making the right statement for his clueless boyfriend so he could feel at ease, as he lean backward, spread his legs more for his Mn to giving him more entry. He always been the understanding one, quietly patient, nothing really shock him anymore, he would give all the things Mn desire.

Mn eyes spark with satisfations the kind that came when something he longing for finally here. As he slowly insert his boyfriend's jotting massive cock inside his warm mouth then began to bobbing his head in a steady rhyme, taking his time to make this moment longer. While Heeseung just sit still, doing nonthing.

"Just like that Mn, wrapped that hungry lip like you want to eat this cock- fuck hell yeah" The empty room are now filled with soft groan and moaning from the stall, not even care if there anyone would hear them, this is all pleasure that cannot be stop.

Heeseung’s breath caught, shoulders pressing back as his fingers curled tight in hair. He wasn’t being loud, he couldn’t be, but the sounds still slipped from him, unfiltered and low. Quiet groans rolled out of his chest, scattered and rough around the edges like he didn’t know how to hold them in anymore.

"Ah… fuck…" His voice was barely above a whisper, but every word felt heavy, soaked in heat.

The mouth on him moved with intention. Not rushed. Not teasing. Just steady, like something worth savoring. Tongue soft and warm as it swept along the underside, slow and sure, before easing back again. Heeseung shuddered, jaw clenching as his thighs twitched.

He looked down and swore again, eyes glazed, lips parted, chest rising in shallow waves.

"You’re gonna make me… shit, Don't you stop"

Heeseung’s hand dropped to the stall wall, palm flat, searching for something solid. The way he was being taken in wasn’t rough, but it was overwhelming in its care. Like every second had been memorized.

He let out a moan, voice caught in the back of his throat.

"God, your mouth…"

His body trembled as that warmth coiled tight in his stomach. The way he was being taken in, steadily, deeper with each pass, had him spiraling. Heeseung could barely breathe. His other hand tangled deeper in Mn hair, not guiding, just holding on.

"You’re gonna kill me," he whispered, a choked sound following right after.

"Don’t stop. Please. Just… don’t."

His hips jerked once, breath staggering, and the mouth around him adjusted with the same smooth pressure, never missing a beat. A soft hum followed, intentional or not, it didn’t matter. It was the last thing he needed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…cum, cum cumming ”

With a low, shaky moan, Heeseung tensed. His breath stilled. Then he came, with a massive load, it was quiet but intense, his toes curling as a sound escaped him, raw, soft, almost reverent.

"Swallow it, don't leave any drop darling, just like you need to refresh your sweet tongue"

His head tipped back, neck bared to the too-bright lights above, chest rising in uneven waves as he tried to remember how to breathe. Fingers still tangled, body still pulsing from the aftershock.

"Was it salty like you want now?"

Mn nodded satisfied.

Who wouldn't when you get to suck Dick, especially from someone you loved.

[biteyoubiteme]

gameboy

huening kai x fem!reader warnings: 🔞!!! sub!member kinda, hand job, teasing, oral (m!rec), prob forgot some sorry wc: 1.8k an: >< rain sent me an ask about this and I love love love this genre of txt and specifically kai <33 [m.list]

“The machine ate my quarter,” the sound of your voice made Kai jump from his spot behind the counter. The night had been slow, the music only just now dimmed down to let everyone know in the next hour the arcade would be closed. But he had hardly seen anyone all night, even the ticket exchange had been silent, his shift passing with him on his phone or trying and failing to cram the last bit of studying in. 

“O-oh, I can—could you show me the game?” The stutter in his words made you crack a smile, the kind Kai had seen you flash in casual conversation sitting only the row down from him in your shared lecture hall.  

He had watched you pull out your phone time and time again, flipping the camera to face you as you fixed your lip gloss. His eyes darted away from being noticed, but unbeknownst to him, you had caught him every single time. Boys had a tendency to look in your direction, follow the soft end of the applicator trace the line of your bottom lip but none of them had turned away with the same faint blush huening always had on his cheeks. 

The same pink tint that he wore now when you bent more than you should have in a skirt that short, showing him how the game didn't return your change. He fumbled for his keys, hooked to the belt loop of his jeans that suddenly felt too tight over nothing but the flash of your panties. “Sometimes the button gets…” 

He can't even find what he had been trying to say, mind blank with you blinking back at him, “Sticky?” the word only brought back all the times he has watched you with your lip gloss, his eyes falling to your mouth with its teasing smile. 

“I'll get you your coin back, and if you still want to play, it should work fine,” Kai says, bent to one knee, fiddling with the machine to fix it. 

“It's okay it was my last one. My friends left me and I don’t even know how you're supposed to aim on this thing. I swear I've never hit one of these little hearts,” you flicked the toy gun in its holster. It had been the same game you had started the night with, failing twice and giving up only to come back to try to redeem yourself with no luck. 

Kai pulled out a few quarters, holding them palm up for you to take. “Yeah this one always gives people trouble, there is one spot that if you stay aiming at you will at least get half of all the shots you make,” talking about the game felt better than stumbling through a regular conversation, even with him so close to your bare thigh. 

“Really?” you take the coins from him before he locks the machine back up. 

“Just don't tell anyone I told you that,” and when he stands you bend to slip one of the quarters in to try even if you did only make half or all the shots. 

“Could you show me?” the machine rings to life, the little bell like jingle twinkling as you pick up the toy gun. 

Kai didn't know how he had found himself in the position, his front pressed to your back with his hands over yours trying to guide you in the right direction. looking over your shoulder trying and failing to keep some kind of distance between the two of you when he felt like he would tumble over the edge of embarrassment if you inched even a step back. 

He lined up the shot, “Right…here,” his voice soft and whispered right next to your ear, his finger curled around yours on the trigger, pressing down and hitting the target with ease. Your surprised laugh shook your shoulders, your body curving into his like it was second nature. His pants still felt tight, half hard in his jeans like he was some perv and he knew you would notice if you pushed in closer so he tried to pull away but you wouldn't let him. 

You melted into his hold turning your cheek until your noses were close enough to brush, “thank you,” his shuddering breath in response washing over you when you pressed your ass right against him because of course you had caught him, wrapped him up on your webbing like it was your plan all along. “You know I could help you with that,” the ghosting of your lips brushing his only made him harder, the anticipation for something that may or may not happen driving him insane before the game in front of the two of you rings causing both of you to jump. 

His moment was lost as you looked back, his hands falling away from yours, his cheeks and ears burning. The game's screen was saying to call for an attendant, the ticket reel empty and needed to be refilled. 

“I'll be back,” because he couldn't stand around feeling as embarrassed as he did. He knew you had other boys waiting for even a second of your time in the way that he just had. He had not taken charge, had not kissed you instead of pulling away. No, he had gotten hard and stuttered and now he was running away to the supply closet hoping you wouldn't ever tell anyone what had happened. 

The second he was in the small confined storage room he leaned his head on the shelves, trying to catch his breath and cursing at himself. He didn’t even want to think about you waiting there probably texting the friends who had left you there, giggling over the boy who wanted you enough to forget himself. 

His sulking, although internal, felt loud to his own ears, enough so that he did not hear you come in and shut the door behind you until the lock was twisted. The sound of the heavy steel brought him to look at you. 

The low light of the single bulb washed both of you in partial shadow. "Do you need any help?” The redundant question only made him shiver. He needed all the help in the world because you were sliding your hands up his chest, and he couldn't look away from your lips. His nose was already trying to dip closer to yours, and the soft hum of a whimper caught in the back of his throat. 

“Can I kiss you?” the thread of need intertwined in every syllable, snapping when you finally pulled him in closer to you giving him what the both of you wanted. Kai’s body reacted instantly, curving into you, hands sliding down your back, hot and heavy as they pulled your hips in closer to him, enough so that you were utterly flush with him. 

Kai was receptive to every brush of your fingers, one hand threaded between the stands of his hair at the back of his neck, the other making its way down to the bulge in his jeans he was desperately grinding against you as you deepened the kiss he can't pull away from. You fumbled with his zipper, his soft groan ringing in your mouth when you finally tugged it down. “Y-you don't have to-” but he was pressing his clothed cock closer to your palm, begging for more.  

“If you want me to stop all you have to do is say so,” but you slipped a single finger into the waistband of his underwear, running along the elastic, taunting him. 

“Please, don’t stop,” his brow was crinkled just right, eyes pleading with you seconds before he let out a pretty moan, lashes fluttering as you pulled his already leaking cock free from the confines of fabric. 

Never would you have thought that you would have been here with Kai, with him making the sweetest noises you had ever heard over nothing but a few loose strokes. He couldn't keep his gasps quiet enough, the fear of getting caught by anyone was stuck in his mind even if he was one of two workers closing and the door was locked. So he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath fanning out over your skin as you giggled, “You're so sensitive,” 

And it was true, his body was trembling. He had never been this hard, this needy. Even his whimpered apologies had never slipped past his lips at this rate but he couldn't help it, not when you knew exactly how to handle him. 

“Don't be sorry,” your soft coo only made his knees weak, “I love to see the way you react to me,” and the only thing that was flickering through your mind was being able to see this vision over and over again, witness it from every angle. You pull away, sinking to your knees in front of him. 

Kai is confused for no more than a second before you're taking him into your mouth, hot and wet enough to make him roll his head back in a throaty moan. Neither of you cares about being loud anymore, not when you’re dragging his tip across your bottom lip, the memory of you and your lip gloss permanently altered in that moment, replaced with this visual. 

Whatever you can't fit into your mouth is taken care of with your hands, the sensation making Kai lean back against the shelves behind him, hair falling back from his forehead while his thighs tremble. He's doing everything he can to keep his hands away from pulling you further down on his cock but it's almost too much when you start to moan. The vibrations race up his spine, one hand curling around your skull as he bucks his hips up into your mouth. 

You don't stop him from pressing further down your throat, your eyes tearing up as you steady your hands on his thighs letting him fuck into you. Kai is brainless, following the feeling of pleasure without realizing that he's found a rhythm brutal enough to nearly choke you before he stutters, hips jerking as he squeezes his eyes shut, “Oh fuck- oh fuck-” the words so foreign to your ears from soft shy kai who was afraid to look at you. 

He twitches against your tongue, hot spurts of his cum salty and welcome as you swallow them down. When you pull away you wrap a loose fist around him, tugging to help him ride out his high, his soft pants mixed with your giggle. 

“I'm sorry I couldn't help myself-” he starts, face flushed and embarrassed before you cut him off. 

“No, don’t be sorry, I like that you can't control yourself around me,” you pull yourself up to stand, kissing along his jaw before whispering in his ear, “Next time you'll be just as good for me, won't you?”

taglist 🏷: want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! @kissmekissykissme @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @taegyutomorrow @izzyy-stuff @bambiihee @filmnings @jellymochii @felixleftchickennugget @yunverie @bts-txt-ateez @dawngyu @luvsicktyun @hyukascampfire @bamgyuuuri @xylatox @lickingan0rchid @no1likemybbgcharlie @demidelulu

[universefcb]

HIII i love all you’re stories and i’m so happy you wrote that one about lamine but i was wondering if you could write another one where his little brother loves the reader and lamine gets a little jealous because his brother keeps clinging to the reader and stuff and it’s mostly just fluff and funny moments you don’t have to but if you could that would be amazing thank you for you’re time❤️❤️❤️

Little rival

Pairing: Lamine Yamal X gf!reader

Summary: You are Lamine's girlfriend, but his younger brother really likes you.

Warning: Just Lamine being a cute and jealous boyfriend<3

Author's note: THEY ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER 😭😭😭😭

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

It was supposed to be just another quiet afternoon at the Yamal house. The reader was sitting on the living room couch, laughing while watching cartoons with Keyne, Lamine's little brother, who was basically glued to her as if they had been best friends forever.

“Do you want more juice, sweetie?” she asked affectionately, running her hand over the boy’s head.

“I want it! Apple!” he replied, his eyes shining.

Lamine, who was leaning against the door with his arms crossed, watched the scene with a crooked smile. It was cute, sure. But it was also kind of annoying. Ever since the reader had started showing up more often at the house, Keyne seemed to have completely forgotten that he, Lamine, was her older brother and boyfriend. Now, she belonged to Keyne—or at least that’s what the little boy thought.

“And you’re not even going to give me a kiss hello?” Lamine asked, an eyebrow raised.

The reader looked at him over her shoulder, laughing.

“Oh, sorry, love. I was kidnapped by a very affectionate mini Yamal,” she joked, stretching out her arms towards him.

Lamine came closer, and when he bent down to kiss her, Keyne made a loud sound of protest and pushed his brother's face away with his little hand.

“She’s my girlfriend!” he complained, sulking.

“Your what?” Lamine’s eyes widened, laughing nervously. “Hey, calm down, shorty. This is MY girlfriend, you hear?”

“You have the ball. I have it.” Keyne crossed his arms with a gigantic pout.

The reader burst out laughing, and Lamine threw his head back, as if he were losing to his greatest rival in life: a 5-year-old boy with brilliant arguments.

Later, while playing a board game, Keyne refused to sit far from the reader. He would sit on her lap, hold her hand while he played, and even make her hold his water.

“This is emotional sabotage,” Lamine muttered to her, his eyes narrowed as he watched his brother take a small piece of biscuit from her hand.

“Don’t be dramatic, Lam. He loves you too,” she replied, trying to hold back her laughter.

“He wants to steal my wife!” he whispered back, scandalized.

At the end of the night, when Keyne finally fell asleep on the reader's lap, clinging to her arm, Lamine carefully approached and sat down next to them. He looked at the scene with a smile that was half defeated, but completely enchanted.

“I officially lost to a brat,” he said quietly.

She laughed, leaning against his shoulder affectionately.

“Never. But I guess you’ll have to share me… at least until he grows up.”

“Great,” Lamine snorted. “Then I want more kisses when he’s not looking. That much, at least.”

"Done."

And with that, he stole a quick kiss, before Keyne opened his eye and screamed "NO!", as if he were protecting his queen from the dragons — or, in this case, the jealous older brother.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @merinottt @htpssgavi @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando

[captain-huggy-bear]

Congratulations on 1,000 followers! Can you please do Michael Kesselring + “I'm sorry I was so grumpy last night.” can I also request that the reader is pregnant in this prompt?

Dad!Michael makes me happy <3 He's also looking so good lately...don't tell Clayton. 1000 Followers Celly Currently ongoing 🥳🎉 (please read the rules) Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You wake to kisses being pressed across your face; little pecks to your cheeks, your nose, your chin before Michael's hand grasps your chin and pulls you into a kiss. It's the sort of wake up that has you smiling even as your back hurts and your baby kicks you like she's trying to decide whether to be in the NFL or Rugby Union.

"Morning, baby," He mumbles against your lips, sugary sweet, as you blink your eyes open to take him in. He's gorgeous in the mornings; curls across his forehead, chain swinging towards you, chest bare and tattoos on display.

"Morning..." You sigh as he leans over you, waking up a little more, smile dropping as you remember that night before, how grumpy you'd been, how snappy. “I'm sorry I was so grumpy last night.”

Michael helps you to sit up, pillows being plumped behind your back to support you as you move. Your belly making everything 10 times harder as you get closer and closer to your due date.

The grin he gives you is a little goofy, forgiving and sweet as he pulls one of your ankles into his lap, long fingers massaging the swollen area without being asked, without being told.

"'s okay, baby...you're kind of carrying an entire human in you right now. I'd probably be grumpy too." If anything his forgiveness and understanding makes you feel guiltier, like you need to explain your behaviour because you were a real terror last night and Michael's been nothing but wonderful the entire pregnancy.

"I just... she was kicking real hard last night and I was tired and hungry but I can't have half the things I'm craving because it makes me sick..." Your favourite foods had become inedible, even the smell of some of them made you queasy. An unfortunate symptom of your pregnancy and Michael had promised to bring you all your favourite foods for your first meal after giving birth.

Your eyes shift away from him out of guilt, Michael's hand stills on your ankle, "Hey, look at me."

You flick your eyes back to him, rewarded with your ankle massage ongoing, pressing into the tightness there, "You don't have to explain, I get it. I mean, I don't get it because I'm not pregnant, but I understand. You feeling better this morning, mama?"

"A little...I'm just really tired." You feel like staying in bed all day, not moving, just curling under the covers for an entire day until you feel like maybe you have some energy again.

"I know, but you've got to get your body moving, baby, the doctor said you can't be lying down too much."

"I know..." You hate that he's right. You'd been told to stay active, that not moving would make birth ten times harder on your body, but it didn't make it any easier to keep active when you were so goddamn tired all the time.

"What if you came to the rink with me? To see the boys?" He's pulling out the big guns because Michael knows you love going to the rink, you love watching practices and most of all you love the team. The guys treat you so well that sometime Michael has to remind himself that you're married to him, that he doesn't need to worry.

"Yeah?" He considers it a victory the moment you start smiling at him even if you haven't agreed yet.

"Mmm, and after at least 5 of 'em will try to buy you lunch but I'll do it because I'm your husband and that's my job," You can already imagine the scramble to pay for your lunch, the rush to hold doors for you. Each of the guys has been overly considerate of you since your pregnancy was announced, attentive to the point of overbearing like having a hockey team of brothers, uncles and fathers.

"Yeah? Subway?"

"If that's what you want or Wendy's or Taco Bell or anything you want." Michael scoots up nearer to you at the head of the bed, hand reaching out to cup your cheek and brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear.

"Do you think Logan will wear those stupid sunglasses for me?"

"Do you want him too?"

"Yeah, he looks silly in them, makes me smile."

"Give me a sec..." He's already reaching for his phone, shooting off a text message to Cools to demand he wear those ridiculous shades to make you smile. The response is quick, one word, a simple yes because Logan Cooley has no issues having a bit of fun if it makes you smile.

Michael grins at you, thumb brushing against your jaw, "Yeah, he's gonna wear 'em for you...should I be concerned that you have my entire team wrapped around your pinkie?"

"No, cause I only want you." You try to lean over to kiss him but barely move before Michael's doing the leaning for you, to ease the strain on your neck and back. You kiss him brief and soft, barely moving away, just enough so both of you can talk.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm, love you the most." You do love the entire team, but it's different, oh it's different. They're the mad group of gremlins who make you smile but you're not in love with them like you are Michael. You'd pick him any day of the week.

"Uh, so you love them?" There's that little jealous pout that brushes your lips, a reminder that Michael ultimately loves you so much that the idea of you loving anyone else even platonically sets his hackles rising.

"Well, they do buy me food..." You tease knowing he'll bite, he always does.

"Okay, but you love me most, right?"

"No doubt about it."

"Good, cause I love you the most too,"

"Even more than Logan and Josh?"

"Oh, fucking 100% more than those two idiots."

[supervisormeero]

Okay, time to put together a list of small things about that clip that I love because I've watched it so many times that it's burned into my brain

Syril looks Dedra up and down when he steps through the door. There are multiple ways to interpret this, and all of them are incredible. One, he's down bad. Two, he likes her outfits and wants to admire what she's wearing. Three, it's both. It's probably both.

Dedra turns her head here. I'm about 98% sure she was going for an actual kiss before The Galaxy's Biggest Idiot just. Fled. Straight into the apartment. Left her standing there. SYRIL YOUR DIPSHITTERY IS UNFATHOMABLE WHAT ARE YOU DOING—

Dedra's little shrug after she says she had Syril followed. "Partagaz insisted." Did Partagaz really insist, or is she trying to pass blame because he's not reacting the way she thought he would? Her shrug is so silly, too; it's done in such a Dedra way, although we haven't seen something like this from her before. It's the nonverbal equivalent of saying, "You're mad at me? The one person who's never done anything wrong, ever? Okay, then it wasn't even my fault."

Also notable is that Syril calls bullshit on it, too, because he says, "I can't believe you had me followed." He knows the Partagaz thing was a rushed white lie, and he knows her well enough to see it.

Syril's reaction to being told they have an hour. Regardless of what the context here is, he wants more time with her. He actually seems upset that he doesn't have more time with her; was he hoping to spend the night? Has he regularly spent longer than an hour with her? (There are mild spoilers about this elsewhere on the Internet, but I'm being vague for the sake of not giving anything away for those who haven't read them.)

Dedra's head-tilt when Syril asks if they really only have an hour. It's so Dedra. It's so raised-eyebrow in the ISB boardroom. It's so... Have you ever known me to joke, Syril. It implies a level of intimacy that they communicate so easily without words; he knows her well enough to understand what she's saying, even when she's not saying it, and even when it's not what he wants to hear.

Dedra's expressions when she tells him to turn out the lights. The first time, she's a bit awkward; she doesn't look at him directly, she seems unsteady, there's a sense that she... isn't used to all of this, and maybe isn't totally sure how to ask for what she wants in a non-work context. The second time, though, she's more forward. She stares him down, repeats herself firmly, leaves no room for further discussion of the you-had-me-followed topic. (Shut up, Syril.) There is a power dynamic here, and I'll be interested to see how that plays out. She wants him to do what she wants, and he's not doing it, and she did not get dressed up like this to argue with him.

Syril's expression after Dedra tells him to turn out the lights. Like, he's still irritated about her having him followed, but he softens; he... cares about her at least, but this definitely might possibly be love in spite of the weird power dynamic in which he decidedly does not have the upper hand, at least on paper, and I am fine and not crying about it

On power dynamics, though, I find it interesting that Dedra stood in the hallway after Syril walked away. Syril left her there. She followed him into the apartment. She was either 1. Taking a moment to internally scream because he's so SO stupid and didn't kiss her on the mouth, or 2. Left sort of winded by him kissing her, even just on the cheek, or 3. Wanted to admire the view of him walking away.

If you read too much into it, which I probably am, it could imply that Syril has more power over her than he thinks, or than either of them acknowledge. After all, she's giving all the orders, but she's also following him into her own home.

This is not a small thing but I'm going insane about it so I'm going to yell about it for the millionth time. THE BED BEING SO PROMINENT IN THESE SHOTS. TONY GILROY YOU ARE A GENIUS TONY GILROY YOU ARE A MADMAN. TONY GILROY YOU REALLY SAID THIS IS FOR THE KEEROS

[usagi-chwan]

🌸 Characters in this headcanon : Dazai (Agency), Kunikida, Chuuya, Ranpo, Oda, Ango (Government), Atsushi, Sigma and Fukuzawa.

🌸In principle no spoilers, knowing who the characters are is enough to be able to read their respective parts. Except for Sigma maybe...

The reader is female in this chapter knowing the subject, I will make that clear before anything else! We are going to talk about pregnancy, childbirth, babies and diapers! :)

(The images used do not belong to me).

... Can you repeat what you just said? (BSDxPregnant!Reader)

Dazai

- At first, when you tell him you are pregnant, he is overcome with fear. He needs a lot of time to accept and prepare himself to become a parent; it is very difficult for him to admit that he has the right to become a parent, after all the horrors he has committed in the past.

- He wonders if he will be able to love this child... But he already loves you, so it should be all right, should it not? 

- During the pregnancy, he is constantly worrying, mostly silently (you have never seen him so silent for so long, by the way), and is often deep in thought. But when he realizes that his attitude is hurting you, and that you are feeling guilty, he will try to be more cheerful and optimistic, although he will not be able to hide his worries completely. 

- Dazai is extremely afraid for the baby's safety and for yours, first because of his former job as a Mafia executive, and also as a detective, no less. He does everything he can to be with you all day long, to make sure nothing happens to you. 

- During childbirth, he is there most of the time, but has to go out once in a while because he feels guilty that you are suffering like this because of him. But he always comes back to hold your hand, and he is there when your baby gives their first cry.

- His reaction when he finally takes your child in his arms? He is unable to hold back a few tears, as he gently and awkwardly cradles your baby.

- He congratulates you in a trembling voice and kisses you gently, whispering how proud he is of you. He is still unable to fully realize what is happening to him, but he is going to make sure he is there, for both of you, every second of this new life.

~

Kunikida 

- He is on the verge of fainting when he finds out, then bawling his eyes out for a good ten minutes. 

- But he quickly take things in hand, perhaps a little too quickly (and a little too much), by organizing everything from start to finish... The diapers, the crib, the food, the toys (adapted and totally safe for babies, of course!)...

- He is so committed to this pregnancy (perhaps more so than you are yourself...) that he has calculated the exact day and time of the birth. But he sometimes needs to be reminded that nature is unpredictable, and that the baby is not destined to be born, most of the time, on the exact day nine months later. 

- He reads a lot of books and asks for a lot of advice on how best to support you. You do not have to do anything except carry the baby in your belly, which is a huge ordeal in itself; and Kunikida understands this too, which is why he takes care of everything for you. If he could physiologically carry the baby for you, he would do so without hesitation.

- But against all odds, at least on your part, the baby ends up being born exactly nine months later, just as his father planned. Which bodes well for what is to come... And proves that, at least, there is no doubt about their parent-child bond.

~

Chuuya

- Certainly one of the characters in Bungou Stray Dogs who most wants to have children, in my humble opinion. So, when you tell him, once he is over the shock and assimilated the meaning, he accepts the news with emotion, and overflows with joy that he does not know what to do with.

- He hugs you without a word, unable to say anything. Then he goes into action.

- With him, it is very simple: you are going to be treated like a queen... Well, the usual, in short. But with special attention paid to not letting you do anything too strenuous, and to taking care of your health and that of the baby. 

- Of course, he has his doubts about the baby's well-being and yours, knowing the environment in which he lives. But, at the same time, who would be foolish enough to prey on the child and wife of a Mafia executive? The existence of his child, unfortunately, will still have to remain a secret to most people, precisely because of his work. He would rather take all the precautions in the world, if it means protecting those he loves!

- To perfect his skills as a future new father, he asks Kôyô for lots of advice, and she is amused to see him like this. She, for her part, finds it hard to imagine him with a child, knowing that she knew him when he was only sixteen... 

- And what she had anticipated even less... Was that she was going to be called Auntie Kôyô by your little darling.

~

Ranpo

- When you tell him, he remains silent for a loooong time. So much so that, at first, you think he is angry or something similar.

- This concern on your part is swept away when he asks you, quite simply, this: "How did you do it?"

- ... were you really going to have to explain to him how children were made...? Yes. That is how you had discovered that Ranpo, ever since Fukuzawa had "explained" it to him, thought children were delivered by storks, when the parents wanted one.

- "... How can I put this...? You know what we did last time, just the two of us...? That's how kids are made, Ranpo..."

- Right. Even though there had been a small unforeseen obstacle at the start of the journey, the rest went extraordinarily well. Ranpo was quite excited at the idea of having a mini-him to pass on some of his genius to, and especially to be able to play and eat sweets with them.

- He is taking very well the baby's arrival, although he is becoming increasingly worried as the pregnancy progresses and you start to suffer more and more (backache, vomiting, irritability, sudden crying, various aches and pains...).

- On the day you give birth, he is obviously at your side, even if he finds the time extremely long (if he thinks so, he does not dare imagine what state of mind you are in... Especially when you are screaming in pain with each new contraction).

- He breathes a deep sigh of relief when the baby is finally born. But Ranpo does not cry: he prefers to smile; and, prouder than anyone, he takes his child in his arms and congratulates you, who have passed this ordeal with flying colors.

~

Oda 

- Having children is something he often dreams of, but with his hectic life (so to speak...), he feels unable to offer them the comfort and love they deserve... And especially unable to hold in his hands, covered in blood, a being as innocent as a baby.

- He remains silent for a long moment after learning this, his gaze fixed and his eyebrows furrowed. He only comes back to reality when you place your hand on his shoulder, a worried, pained look on your face. 

- He is happy about the news, despite the fear, and will do everything in his power to be the most exemplary father on Earth (which, more or less, he already is?). He promises you this with all his being, and intends to keep this promise no matter what happens.

- His calm demeanor helps you get through the next nine months, and he is by your side whenever he can, according to his own wishes (because he still has work on the side that he needs to keep if he wants to be able to provide for you, especially when you are forced to take some time off at the end of your pregnancy).

- But when his child is finally born, after the torture of watching you suffer through childbirth, all his worries vanish, and when he holds that little being in his arms, he cannot hold back a sweet, loving smile, or a single tear, as he kisses you to congratulate you... And to thank you for this wonderful gift.

~

Ango

- If his habit is to handle the unexpected with as much dexterity as possible... A pregnancy was definitely not on his list of unforeseen events... But a contingency is, by definition, something you cannot foresee, right?

- He panics a lot internally, hoping to project the image of a perfectly calm man... Which fails every time; you can easily see his true state of mind, and you do everything you can to reassure him that everything will be all right.

- He asks himself a lot of questions, such as whether he will have enough time to look after the baby, and above all whether he will be able to look after them properly, whether he will not be putting them at risk because of his work, and so on.

- But, despite everything, you can see that he is happy about this pregnancy, even if he remains relatively anxious.

- Throughout the pregnancy, he cannot help but be afraid; he has heard all about miscarriages and what they entail, especially for the mother. And if there is one thing he is sure of, it is that he is definitely not ready to lose you, one way or another.

- But when he finally finds himself in front of this little being, YOUR child, all this thoughts find a place in the background, even if he cannot forget the pain of seeing a childbirth.

- The arrival of the baby will be an opportunity for him to slow down on his work a little; his work has not lost in quality, far from it, but he is now making sure to finish it as soon as possible, as he has been doing since he met you... But even more blatantly, since he now has two people to join in this wonderful place called home!

- His colleagues will tell you that he is much less stressed and much more serene since the arrival of his child... It is as if he has become another man, so to speak.

~

Atsushi

- Panic and stress are the watchwords of Atsushi while your entire pregnancy. For your part, between bouts of vomiting, you spend your time telling him that everything is going to be fine, and that the baby will be born healthy... But he tells you he is mostly worried about you, because he has read that some women die in childbirth. 

- It will take a long time to persuade him that today's medicine allows you to give birth safely. In any case, he cannot help worrying: what if you fall somewhere, what if you run out of food, what if you catch a cold...? 

- When he sees you throwing up almost every morning for the first few months, he feels even guiltier. When he sees your grimace because of the contractions, the same. 

- He reads a lot of books and articles on pregnancy to understand what is going on, and you can only encourage him: he comes to understand that all these inconveniences are part of pregnancy, and that they will all be a distant memory once the baby is born. 

- He finds it fascinating to know that you are making a little being in your womb, almost all by yourself. He loves to put his head on your lap when you sit down to listen to the baby (or at least try to) and feel them move against his cheek. 

- He has also read that talking to the baby during pregnancy is beneficial, so he does it, albeit a little hesitantly at first. Eventually, however, he tells them all about his days, or at least the best parts... And, above all, the fact that he cannot wait to take them in his arms. 

- And, when he finally does, he obviously bursts into tears under the weight of his happiness. As much as he hated seeing you suffer like that during childbirth... He is now the happiest man in the world at the gift you have been given.

~

Sigma 

- He resembles Atsushi in some ways, so... He panics a thousand times when he finds out, and asks himself an infinite number of mostly useless or obvious questions the rest of the time.

- Even if he tries to reassure you in turn, unfortunately he is not very good at it, and ends up spouting nonsense, completely overwhelmed by events.

- But he cannot help feeling happy as he holds his child close to him, knowing that he too has been given the chance to start a family.

- He had no past... But you had offered him a future.

~

Fukuzawa

- He thought he would never have children, and he also thought he had passed the age for this, even though he is not that old... 

- He did not feel the need to start a family by blood, since he already had many people at his side whom he was ready to call his family (and who most certainly already considered him a father figure). 

- But after the shock, he realizes how happy he is when you tell him the news. 

- He is surprised at first, asks a lot of questions and frowns... But in the end, he gives you a big hug and assures you that he will be there for both of you no matter what, and of course he will be. 

- He tries to limit his business travels when you are almost at term, so that you can count on him when you need him most: during the birth.

- And, of course, you can count on the support of the whole Agency to accompany and support your little bundle of joy!

- The only small problem is that, at first, as soon as he takes your child in his arms, he finds himself paralyzed, terrified of making the slightest blunder. But the baby's laughter is enough to make him smile and relax. He is particularly good at lulling infants to sleep by rocking them in his arms, once he knows how.

[colliecross]

hi. can i ramble about sasasaap and loop and the differences between games for a sec? i hope the answer is yes because i am perfectly normal about this topic!

ISAT and SASASAAP spoilers ahead!

so. So. SO.

As we know, because ID5 was still developing lore and stuff for ISAT while making SASASAAP, many things weren’t yet finalised and/or implemented yet.

One of these things would be the concept of ‘Bonding’ replacing ‘Marriage’. Bonding is a cool concept and helps distinguish the game’s world from real life, but it also gives explanations for certain design details (aka earrings). All 3 Vaguardian party members have earrings in their designs, there’s at least one bonded couple in Dormont’s House and we also know it’s seemly a traditional thing.

HOWEVER, the term ‘bonding’ ISN’T used in SASASAAP, with The Housemaiden’s draw content saying to have ‘wedding related stuff’ AND in her ramblings about the “HANDSOME YOUNG MEN FALLING INTO BEAUTIFUL HEARTBREAKING MADDNESS” horror anthology mentioning the heroes ‘marrying’ the monsters.

Now we could just chock this up to prologue weirdness, however to fully comprehend Loop, we must consider everything in SASASAAP to be canon too. And this then would include these small details.

Therefore, can you imagine, Act 2 Loop, in the mist of the internal nightmares their new existence has, notices the odd changes in Dormont’s House. Beside the fact nobody is calling it ‘The Castle’ and rooms are not where they remember them, they watch Siffrin interact with The Partner in the room before the Library. They funnily enough have the same reaction as their Stardust: [What’s a bonding earring?] But it doesn’t seem that important so whatever. But Siffrin then later asks about it, and they both learn about bonding more. And Loop is just confused. This is NEW information to them. What?? Nail in the coffin for them however would be in eastern dead-end on the 3rd floor.

Glossing over the fact that this room that they’ve explored so many times has now been deemed irrelevant by The Universe, there’s that same book. But Mirabelle mentions ‘bonding’ with monsters instead. And it all clicks.

Although Odile saying that bonding is only popular in Ka Bue, connoting that it might not be the only form of “marriage”, the word “marriage” is still never mentioned, so we can assume it doesn’t exist. Loop now has to contend with the fact that this entire concept has now been erased too. They’re now the sole living being who is aware of what ‘Marriage’ is now. They will forever see a ring on someone’s finger differently then the rest of the planet. Another thing that that’s been taken from them.

Now if you’re a shipper, this is the exciting part. Post-ISAT loops AU, and Siffrin + Family are travelling to Nille, with Loop along for the ride. Our dear star is being forcefully loved by everyone around them, and therefore for shipping purposes, they fall for someone. For the sake of example, Sloopis (Isa x Sif x Loop). Now time-skip. The trio are preparing to be bonded together. However, a problem has arrived. Loop doesn’t have ears. Loop can’t wear bonding earrings. Their partners try and figure out a solution, both worried that Loop would feel left out. But then a long-forgotten memory resurfaces.

And so Loop brings up the concept of marriage to Siffrin and Isabeau. How it’s like bonding, but with rings on your finger instead. And the duo go CRAZY! Sif is happy to hear more about Loop’s world, understanding the pain of losing their history, and Isa is fascinated by the style.

And so, when it is the time to exchange accessories, Loop is given two rings instead, from both of their partners, made with love.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 4 of the Danny is Tim's 99th attempt at cloning Kon. A 3 year old Danny finally meets his not dead anymore template.

[Pt 3: here]

Danny is so nervous he feels like he's going to throw up. His Template, who was dead and now isn't, is coming over to meet him. He knows his dad wouldn't let the guy near if he thought he'd react poorly to Danny, and Danny is excited about maybe having an adult (barely, technically, since he's 18) to help him figure out his new alien heritage, but he's still scared shitless. He wants this to go well so badly.

"Danny," Tim sighs in fond exasperation, "Come here, sweetheart."

Danny floats himself into dad's lap, tucking himself to his chest.

"Kon has been just as nervous to meet you." Tim kisses the top of Danny's head, just before Danny turns a wide-eyed look towards him. "He's the sweetest himbo and has been gushing about meeting you, but he's terrified you won't like him."

"Rweally?"

"Yeah, one of his deepest desires and deepest traumas is his want of family. But he doesn't want to pressure you into accepting any sort of relationship with him." Tim explains before cracking a sardonic smile. "Which is a big mood. I'm pretty sure most of the younger heroes have imposter syndrome."

"Why?"

"For many reasons. Kon was, and sometimes still is, discriminated against and frankly abused for being a clone. I forced my way into the Wayne family and was repeatedly told I didn't belong. Jason never had a stable life. Damian was a rape baby and raised in the LoA til he was 10. Dick was kicked out by Bruce once he aged out of fostering age. Jason's "not" boyfriend, Roy, was shunned for developing a drug habit after gaining significant trauma." Tim lists off. "A lot of the younger heroes couldn't lean on the adults in their lives, and it leaves scars. We've all found our footing, and deserve everything good we have in our lives, but the feeling of unworthiness is hard to escape."

Danny hugs his dad around the neck. He knew some of this dad and co lore, but it makes him sad each time. No one in his new family family has had easy lives, but are still so nice.

Tim suddenly looks mischievous, "All that to say, Kon has been texting me all morning about what he should wear, do I actually think you'll like him, if he should bring a gift or would you think he's bribing you to like him-"

"Tim!" A guy whines as he enters. He's wearing a leather jacket over a band t-shirt and black jeans. He clothes don't hide how he's shredded and probably 6 inches, at least, taller than Tim. He's holding a puzzle box and looks flustered and embarrassed.

"It's true!" Tim grins at the newcomer, before adjusting his angle to give Danny a slightly better view. "Danny, this is Kon, your DNA donor. Kon, this is my- our son, Danny."

Danny shyly waves as a blushing Kon sputters and protests Tim's choice of introductions.

"What? I did all the work, you just provided the DNA. Maybe if there's a next time, I'll let you help." Tim teases, and is hilariously oblivious to the gutter Danny can see Kon's mind drop into.

Danny has found his dad to be absolutely oblivious to anytime someone is into him, outside of Ra's. Danny watched so many people try to shoot their shot, and Tim cluelessly rebuff them. Danny thought he was doing it on purpose at first, but soon realized, no, his dad just has low self-esteem and truly doesn't think anyone finds him desirable. It's as funny as it is sad.

"So mean." Kon pouts before holding up the puzzle box for Danny to see the design. It's a thousand piece nebula puzzle. "I ended up getting you this puzzle. Tim- Your dad told me you love space and are super smart, so I thought you'd enjoy this puzzle."

Danny blinks, looking between the barely adults, before deciding to be funny. He says in his gravest voice. "So you chose bribery."

Danny gets the glorious view of Kon's face dropping in shock. Tim is literally shaking as he tries not to laugh, knowing Danny is pulling the guy's leg. The Drakes let him flounder for a moment, trying to find a response to that, before Danny can't help giggling, which pushes Tim over the edge and start cackling, startling Kon into silence.

"You should have seen your face!" Tim wheezes.

Kon gets a dopey look on his face. "You're just messing with me."

Danny nods with a grin. He wiggles to be put down, which Tim complies with, still giggling. Danny trots up to his template.

"You're silly." Danny informs him before holding his arms up and demanding. "Up!"

Kon quickly sets the puzzle on an end table near him before picking Danny up. He looks a little nervous when Danny stares hard at his face. "Um?"

Danny takes in all the shared features between them, some harder to see with the 16 year age difference, but it's sort of soothing to see. He gets distracted when he notices Kon's piercings, gasping and taking a closer look.

"How!?" He excitedly, but gently grabs Kon's ear piercings. Danny had gotten similar ear piercings when he was a ghost, and he misses them, but figured he wasn't going to be able to get them done in this body. It being nearly indestructible and all.

"Oh, my piercings?" Danny nods, leaning forward to take a closer look. "I'm sure you noticed it's hard to hurt us, but there's a rock called kryptonite, and depending on the colour, different things can happen."

"I thought kryptonite just hurt?" Danny asks, pulling back to look at Kon's face.

"It can. Green kryptonite is the most common, and it will hurt you. It turns off your powers and slowly poisons you, and if not taken away quickly, can kill us. Gold kryptonite is the rarest type and will permanently remove kryptonian abilities and usually leaves permanent injuries. So please do your best to avoid those types." Kon explains, "Red kryptonite should probably also be avoided, it makes kryptonians angry and turns off your inhibitions, but it won't technically hurt you to be exposed to it. The last colour I know of is blue. Blue kryptonite doesn't harm you or mess with your mental abilities. It just turns off all of your kryptonian abilities for however long it touches your skin. I have a blue kryptonite necklace I wear whenever I want tattoos or piercings."

Danny turns pleading eyes to his dad. "Can I get ear piercings??"

Danny can't help, but notice an infatuated smile on Tim's face before the man huffs a laugh and walks over. He runs a hand through Danny's hair.

"If you still want them when you're 5, I'll let you." Tim hums, "I don't want it to be an impulsive decision, and people will be less weird about a five year old getting their ears pierced. You might still get weird looks since you're a boy, but that's their problem, not yours."

"Okay!" Danny cheers. He hasn't told his dad about his past life/afterlife, so he can understand the hesitance over letting 3 year old get a body mod, even if it's just a single set of ear piercings, on what seems like a whim. He's honestly surprised he only has to wait til he's 5. Tim can be a bit of a helicopter parent, but then again, Tim really wants Danny to be his own person, never once shaming him for not fitting into a mold.

His aunts and uncles and grandpa have all made comments when they think he can't hear about how different or similar he is to Kon. Or when he shows gender non-conforming interests. Tim gets mad at them anytime he realizes Danny heard them. He doesn't want Danny to feel bad about any of it. Siting that "no shit" there's going to be similarities and differences, that's how children work, clone or not, and how gender is a social construct. He usually starts picking apart all of his siblings' behaviors at that point, pointing out what they inherented from Bruce, what is trauma born, and what's uniquely their's so he assumes they're from their respective parents, as well as all the things they do that don't fall under what society thinks their gender should do. It's funny, but also very nice. Danny loves his dad.

The true question right now, though, is: will he love, or even just like, his template? Danny doesn't hate what he's heard and seen so far, but actual fondness or affection needs time.

"How about we head to the gym?" Tim says, "Kon can show you some of his powers."

"Can I fly higher?" Danny isn't allowed to fly more than 4 feet in the air. Which is annoying, but fair. Again, he's 3.

"Only if you stay in arm's reach of Kon when you do."

"Okay!!" Danny cheers, purposely flailing around. Kon's hold on him tightens slightly to make sure he doesn't fall, but it's not painful. Another point to the DNA donor. That's about five in his favour during this interaction alone.

"Already flying, little man?" Kon grins.

"Yeah!"

"He figured out how to fly before how to run." Tim chuckles, "Now he does both any chance he gets. It keeps things lively."

"I imagine." Kon's grin turns a little gooey, before letting himself float and zip to the gym. "Let's have so fun!"

Danny can't help his chuckles. Kon flies there faster than Danny's allowed currently. It's fun!

Danny also can't help but notice Tim isn't in a rush to catch up. Meaning Tim fully trusts Kon with Danny's life. That's a trust that took the rest of the family months to gain, even though Tim knew they wouldn't hurt him. Danny isn't sure what to make of that knowledge, but it definitely makes him more inclined to like his template.

And by dinner time, Danny does genuinely like the guy. He respects everything Tim and Danny have to say, shows Danny a bunch of fun tricks with their powers, and let's Danny lead their games. He's fun, nice, and most importantly, not creepy. He clearly likes his dad in a more than friends way, but is hesitant to act on it, clearly not wanting to fuck up with either Tim or Danny.

Unfortunately for Danny, he can see Tim likes Kon back, but his dad is an idiot and doesn't realize it. So now he has to figure out how to get his dad to realize he's into his template without it being weird.

But really, what was Danny expecting? Trying to clone your "best friend" a hundred times isn't exactly hetero behavior. He decides he's going to enlist Uncle Damian and Uncle Jason. It's for his dad's own good at this point.

He also debates on if he's going to try to parent trap them. He likes Kon, but he doesn't know him well enough to commit to the bit just yet. He'll decide later, once he knows more.