#they do not catch breaks they catch my hands

[viaisms]

twenty questions

summary: penelope accidentally mentions that someone has a crush on you, she can't say who it is but you make it into a game so she can :) warnings: spencer reid x bau!reader, gn reader, mentions of drinking wine, pg-13 language, talk of bugs?? its a nickname,,, lots of use of pet names lol, fluff, no mention of y/n yeehaw, pining, you're completely oblivious about how much spencer wants you, not proofread </3 authors note: first fic!! i haven't officially written a fic in. gosh, years?? since the pandemmy :( i really want to get back into writing, so have this little blurb that i thought of! by all means i am here for any constructive criticism you may have<3 wc: 2.7k

The clatter of fingertips tapping against a keyboard filled the dimly lit BAU office. You sit at your desk, eyes fixed on the glowing screen as you scroll through reports, cross-referencing case files and taking notes. The quiet hum of the building has long since settled into a lull; you barely realize how deeply you've fallen into your work,

The distant ticking of a clock finally breaks your trance, but it wasn't until you feel the hairs arise on the back of your neck that you become fully aware. You slowly blink with a quiet groan, glancing at the time at the bottom of your screen.

10:58 PM. Shit.

You align your fingertips atop of your keyboard, the soft clatter filling the office once more before you hear the all-too familiar voice.

"Babes, what are you still doing here?!"

You turn and see nobody else but Garcia, finally emitting from her bat-cave. Her arms cross against her chest, a disappointed hum coming from her pressed lips. "You, my love, should be at home in a nice hot bath with a glass of wine."

Your lips splay a lazy smirk as you lean back in your chair, stretching your body with a quiet groan. "I was just about to wrap up, Pen, I promise..." You assure your colleague, feeling the strain of staring at a screen all day every time that you blink.

"Good deal my beautiful bug," Penelope chirps as her arms drop to her side. She's just as tired as you are, having spent all of her day digging through databases to find information on a potential UnSub. Her heals click as she goes to turn away, walking back towards her office.

"You know, you have to get your beauty sleep for your lover boy in the mor..." Her once confident words grow timid as she begins to trail off.

Penelope's breath catches in her throat as she realizes the words that so effortlessly flew off her tongue, her blood running cold at her grave error. Spencer is going to kill her.

"My what?" Your eyes narrow, scoffing in a confused manner.

She stills, yet she doesn't turn to you.

"Nothing! I... I didn't say anything..." She mutters with a nervous stammer of your name, the rhythmic clicking of her heels continuing as she speeds to her office.

You stand, the wheels of your office chair sliding out from under you as you feel a weakness in both of your legs. You stretch once more, trying to think of when the last time you even stood was.

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her hand is resting on the cold, slick material of the doorknob that has the potential to separate her from this deep abyss that she just dug herself into. Instead, she stills for another moment before turning to you once more.

Penelope has to think of a lie, and quick.

"Obviously... I was talking about Morgan!"

There is a reason why she does what she does for a living, and is rarely out on the field with the rest of the crew unless her technical skills are needed.

Your eyes squint with a tentative hum. You don't believe Garcia, not for a second.

"You do know I'm a profiler..." A grumble of amusement comes from your chest at Penelope's attempt.

"Right..." She murmurs, her voice quiet as she breaks your gaze. She's mentally kicking herself for blabbing, such a rookie mistake in the game of workplace gossip.

Your eyebrows raise as you await Garcia's confession. However, she stays strong, not uttering another peep from her velvet-painted lips.

"So...?" You sing after a beat of silence, stars of hope glistening in the pools of your eyes.

With a whine, Penelope's shoulders drop.

"Look... I love you, sweetness, I do..." Her lips droop into a frown. Penelope's eyes greet your own somberly with a shake of her own head. "But I promised I wouldn't tell..."

You feel a weight of disappointment on your chest, and with a sigh, you decide to drop it. Penelope sees the way the sparkle in your eye begins to dim, eliciting a whine from her barely audible to your own ears.

"But!" She chirps, trying to share some of her own light with you. Penelope shouldn't be doing this, and she knows it. However, she is far too nurturing to let a beautiful smile like yours falter for even a second. "If you guess it... it's not technically me telling you, right?"

"You know? I like the way your mind thinks," You hum, reveling in the fact that you got your way. "Twenty questions?" The cold sensation of the faux-leather hits you as you sit back in your chair.

The corner of Penelope's lips twitch upwards as a combination of guilt and excitement course through her veins. "You know I love a good game, hit me..." She murmurs, her voice self-assured as she pulls a chair from a nearby desk, her legs crossing as she sits next to you.

"Okay..." You mutter with a shaky sigh. The pounding of your heart fills your entire body, your stomach slightly cramping with nerves. "Is it someone I know?"

"Uh, duh?"

Your eyes flutter shut, raking through potential victims that fell for whatever love trap you didn't even intent on setting. "Male or female?"

"Acht! That's not part of the rules my curious friend and you know it," Her dark eyes narrow as she playfully scolds her colleague. "I'm totally counting it though, eighteen more questions..."

With pressed lips, you weigh out the obvious individuals who are least likely to be a contender. Penelope sees how deep you are in thought, and she can't help herself but quietly scoff.

How can you not know it's Spencer? She thinks to herself. Everyone around the office sees it -- everyone but you, apparently. As you think, her mind wanders to about two months prior, where Spencer came to her for love advice. Penelope, being herself, already knew he was fawning over you. She picked up on it the moment the genius somehow grew more awkward every time he were to speak to you.

However, also being herself, she refused to give him any sound advice until he spilled who the lucky contender was; which just so happened to be you.

The sound of your voice pulls her out of her own mind.

"Do I see them often?"

The corners of her lips prop upwards, almost tauntingly. "Very," she affirms.

Someone you see very often... you mentally walk through your day-to-day routine, retracing every step no matter how minuscule. You awake every morning to nobody in your apartment but your cat, besides the occasional sleepover with a friend every now and again. You ready yourself for work alone, your first stop in the morning being the local coffee shop down the street...

"Ooh! Is it someone from the coffee shop?" You chirp, your heart beginning to race at the idea of an unspoken stranger admiring your beauty from afar. Individuals you see there on a day-to-day basis flood your mind, although it completely falls empty for the exception of one person; a barista behind the counter, roughly your age who is not bad looking in the slightest.

"That would be a negative..." Her red-painted lips press together, a slight pang of disappointment hitting you in the gut that it wasn't the barista.

"Darn..." You tut, your mind trying to silently place the pieces of the puzzle together. Someone you know, someone you see often, not someone from the coffee shop...

Penelope can't believe how oblivious you are. How do you not pick up on the fact that Spencer follows you around the office like a lost puppy? Or the fact that when the two of you are on the field together, he insists you go with him or vice versa because he feels the need to protect you?

"No way that it's a colleague?" Your brows stitch together, your head slanting as you throw the inconceivable idea into the open.

Penelope's head slightly tilts downwards as she gazes at you through the top of her frames. She flashes you a sly, almost flirtatious grin at your not-so-far-fetched theory.

"And if it is?"

The feeling of your heart hammering in your heart is felt throughout your entire body, your cheeks warming as you feel blood rush to your brain.

"Who?!" You exclaim, completely forgoing the rules to the game. This narrows your options to about seven. Your hands fumble with the cotton on the hem of your shirt as you narrow your options down even further, a shuttering breath falling from your lips.

"How do you not know?!" Penelope is quick to match your energy, an actual pain shooting through her chest at your own naivety. Her brows raise as her eyes widen, her fists balling as she folds herself back from blurting it out.

Your lips part as you're about to exclaim something quick and witty back to your colleague when it hits you. Like a fish gulping for water, you feel the soft skin of your lips quickly snap shut.

The memories hit you all at once: the mornings you're in a rush and you forget your coffee - Reid excusing himself for a moment with a muttered excuse before returning with it minutes later, the nights you return home from a case and he offers to spend time with you because it pains you being alone after what you saw, the countless facts he will ramble to you on the plane because damn it, you're the only one that actually listens to him.

"Oh my god, Reid?" Your jaw drops as you gasp, your arms numbing as your nerves shoot past the roof and to the stratosphere.

With a relieved sigh, Penelope's palms slap against her thighs, planting her leg down onto the floor with her other one. "Finally!" She groans, almost feeling a sense of comfort that you know and the weird tension around the office while the two are around would soon come to an end.

"Since when?!" Your heart ticks against your chest so hard that you can hear it in your ears. Never in a million years would you assume it would be Spencer that would be silently pining over you. Reid?!

"Since like... forever, buttercup!" Penelope giggles. She can see the dots being connected in the pretty little brain of yours, and god, she loves it. Her voice softens, a warm, almost maternal intent behind them. "We really should be getting home..." She groans, her gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. "Since you two are totes madly in love already, let me know when one of you decides to make the move, okay?"

With a roll of your eyes, the back of your hand ever so gently strikes the side of Garcia's arm. She notices the way blush speckles across your face, a knowing grin playing against her own. You can't ignore the way your chest fuzzes over at the thought of Spencer feeling about you the way you feel about him, it makes your stomach ache with desire; you don't know if you love or hate the sensation.

"Goodnight, Garcia..." A mix between a chuckle and a sigh of contentment is emitted from you. She mumbles a quick 'good night' with a quick, playful wink before standing from her chair, returning it to its original home.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The next morning you're in a hurry to get to work, oversleeping by a long shot as it took you forever to wind down last night due to your wandering thoughts.

You get to your desk with merely minutes to spare, a tired, overwhelmed groan falling from your lips as you place your bag in your desk and splay your jacket against the back of your chair.

"Long night last night, agent?"

You don't even have to look up to know who it is... your body freezes for a moment, not sure if you're prepared to deal with this; not yet, anyways.

With a soft sigh, your gaze is lifted and immediately greeted with Spencer's. His large, curious and caring stare. His hazel eyes almost bare into your own, causing a tingle to run down your spine. You try to ignore the butterflies that patter within the walls of your stomach, yet they're hard to confine.

"Yeah... I'm fine, Reid," You nod, your lips tentatively pressing together. "Just didn't sleep worth the damn last night... just... thinking about the case..." You trail, the sound of your voice growing softer and quieter like a beautiful decrescendo.

His lips part for just a moment, an inaudible 'ah' coming from him before giving you an understanding nod.

"I figured... Garcia told me you were here late last night and I kind of... presumed this may happen," He muses with an awkward chuckle. "Which is why... I brought you this..."

Reid's tall frame trails away from your desk for a moment, which draws out a soft hum from you as you tap your fingertips against the smooth, cool material of your desk.

His long stride is quick to return, your heart almost leaping out of your throat as he sees what's within his long, slender fingers.

Your favorite coffee.

You accept the gesture, your stomach doing flips as you take the cup within the confines of your own grasp. You mumble something quick and playful, telling Spencer that he is your favorite person in the world right now for such a small action.

The feeling of someone else watching you is burned into the back of your skull, a sensation churning in your gut that you can't shake. Your gaze flicks over to the side, in which you're immediately greeted by Garcia.

She not-so-subtly flashes two thumbs up at you, her nails painted a shade of dark purple. "Go get 'em!" She mouths in approval, your gaze quickly turning over to the male in front of you in attempt to hide Penelope's matchmaking attempt.

"Hey... do you um... maybe want to get coffee at this place together sometime?" You attempt to thickly swallow down your nerves, trying to soothe the heartbeat creeping out of your chest.

Spencer is silent a moment, his lips twitching upwards in a sign of approval at your suggestion. You see the thoughts shifting through his mind, the rates of his blinks increasing in a sense of disbelief that you're actually asking him this.

"I-- um... yeah! Let's do tomorrow before work? If... you're okay getting up that early, if not we can totally do a different time, perhaps--"

"Tomorrow it is..." You cut him off, something you rarely do. He nods in agreement, a quiet 'tomorrow' mumbled from his lips as he attempts to conceal his excitement.

You’re not sure how to shake off the butterflies in your stomach, but Spencer’s shy smile is enough to make you feel warm all over. You take a sip of your coffee, letting the moment linger. Before you can say anything else, Garcia’s voice breaks through your thoughts, louder than life.

"You two better not cancel on me! I want details!" she teases from across the room, flashing a mischievous grin your way. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

Spencer, now fully aware of the matchmaker’s antics, lets out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair, looking even more flustered than before.

You meet his gaze again, a new kind of tension settling between you—a mix of nerves, excitement, and something deeper that you’re not ready to name just yet. You take a breath, feeling that the next chapter of whatever this is has already started, and it’s thrilling.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you murmur, unable to stop the grin that’s threatening to split your face. Spencer nods, his smile small but genuine, as he turns to head to his desk.

As he walks away, you catch a glimpse of Garcia again, this time with an exaggerated wink. You shake your head, but you can’t suppress the warmth blooming in your chest. Tomorrow’s going to be interesting, to say the least.

And maybe... just maybe, things are finally falling into place.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Leo is born || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: the long awaited fic of Leo's birth!

Warnings: complications with childbirth, allusion to ppd.

Word count: 1,190

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The hospital room was anything but calm—machines beeping, nurses and doctors moving quickly, their faces strained with focus. The air was thick with tension, a suffocating weight pressing down on your chest. You were drenched in sweat, each contraction crashing over you like a violent wave, sharper and more relentless than the last.

Hours had blurred together in an agonising haze, the pain unyielding, your body caught in a merciless cycle that showed no sign of easing. The baby was still in the wrong position, and every minute that passed felt like a lifetime. You were struggling to breathe through the pain, your vision blurring at the edges. Rafe paced at the edge of the room, running his hands through his hair, his eyes wild with worry. His shirt was crumpled, half tucked in, half hanging loose, as if he had dressed in a rush and didn’t care how he looked.

For once, his usually cool, composed demeanour was completely shattered. His gaze flicked between you and the doctors, desperation and helplessness etched across his face. He had no control here, and it was driving him mad. Another contraction hit, and you let out a sharp cry, your body trembling. Your hands clenched around the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

Rafe was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hand. But his touch wasn’t soft or reassuring—it was tight, as if he were trying to hold on to his own fraying sanity. “Rafe…” you gasped, trying to catch your breath, your voice cracking. “Hey, hey… it’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe. I’m right here.”

His gaze flicked to the doctors, his blue eyes narrowing with a dangerous intensity. “What the hell is going on?” His voice was low, tight, like a coiled spring ready to snap. “Why aren’t you doing something?” One of the doctors—a calm, composed man in his forties—tried to explain.

“Mr. Cameron, we’re monitoring the situation. The baby is in a breech position, and we’re assessing the safest way to proceed without—” Rafe cut him off, his voice rising, sharp and angry. “I’m not paying you thousands of dollars to asses the situation! Do something now! She’s in pain. She’s been in pain for hours, and you're just standing around doing nothing!”

His hand gripped yours tighter, though he didn’t even seem aware of it, his focus entirely on the medical staff. You could see the way the doctors exchanged looks—professional, calm, but there was a flicker of unease in their expressions. They were used to pressure, but not the kind of raw, unfiltered anger that Rafe was radiating.

“Mr. Cameron, I understand you’re upset, but we have to ensure the safety of both your wife and the baby. A C-section is becoming increasingly likely, but we have to wait for the right moment.” Rafe let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “The right moment? My wife is screaming in pain, and you're telling me to wait for the right moment?”

Another contraction hit, and your hand instinctively tightened around his. You let out a choked sob, tears streaming down your face as the pain shot through your entire body. Rafe’s attention snapped back to you, and for a brief moment, the anger in his face softened, replaced by something raw—something vulnerable.

He brushed a damp strand of hair away from your face, his thumb trembling as it touched your skin.“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he whispered, though the strain in his voice betrayed the fear simmering beneath the surface. “I’m right here.”“Rafe,” you gasped, voice cracking, “I can’t… it hurts so much.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he might break. But he didn’t. He bent down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath shaky, his words barely above a whisper. “I know, I know… I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it away. I’d do anything to make this easier for you. Just—just hold on, okay? You’re so strong. You’re doing so good.”

But the second the contraction eased, his head whipped back toward the doctors, fury burning in his eyes again. “Do something! Now! I don’t care how much it costs. I don’t care what it takes. Just help her!” One of the nurses, sensing the rising tension, stepped forward. “We’re preparing for a C-section, Mr. Cameron. We need just a few more minutes to make sure everything is ready.”

“You’ve had hours,” Rafe snapped. His voice was dangerously low now, the calm before the storm. “If anything happens to her—or to my son—it’s on you. Do you understand me?” You could feel his anger vibrating through his body, his hand trembling in yours. He was terrified, but he didn’t know how to express it except through rage.

And yet, even through the haze of pain, you could see that his fury wasn’t just anger—it was fear. He was helpless in a situation he couldn’t control, and it was killing him. Before you could say anything else, the doctor spoke up, his tone firm but professional. “We’re ready for the C-section. We’re going to take good care of both of you.”

Rafe’s eyes flicked back to the doctor, his jaw still clenched, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, he turned back to you, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, trying to offer you the only comfort he could. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice soft now, almost pleading. “You’re so strong, and I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” The next moments were a blur. The pain, the fear, the cold sterility of the operating room.

But Rafe never left your side. Even through his anger, through his fear, he stayed with you, his hand in yours, his eyes locked on you, as if you were the only thing tethering him to this world. And when Leo’s first cry pierced the room, Rafe let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding. His grip on your hand tightened, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead, his voice choked with emotion.

“You did it,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “He’s here.” You let out a breath of relief. “Here,” a nurse approaches with your newborn son, freshly cleaned and swaddled. “Hm?” Your voice is distant as she gently places him on your chest. The weight of him feels foreign, almost surreal. You suck in a shallow breath, your shaky hand reaching up to stroke his delicate back, but you pull it away, unable to hold it there for more than a second.

The room feels heavy, and a hollow ache settles deep within your chest. You avert your eyes, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “Can I… Can I just rest?” Your voice cracks. “I-I want to rest right now.” The nurses exchange quiet glances, their eyes flicking toward Rafe, who is watching you closely, trying to understand the distance in your expression. His brows knit together in concern, but after a beat, he nods slowly, saying nothing, his gaze lingering on you as if he’s waiting for you to come back to yourself.

[pucksandpower]

I’ll Be Waiting

Toto Wolff x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Hedeby, 952

The crackling fire casts long shadows across the great hall as Toto sits upon his ornate wooden throne. His piercing brown eyes scan the room, filled with boisterous warriors celebrating their latest successful raid. But his gaze keeps returning to you, his most favored thrall, as you move gracefully among the revelers, refilling their horns with mead.

“You there,” Toto calls out, his deep voice cutting through the din. “Come hither.”

Your heart quickens as you approach, head bowed respectfully. “Yes, my Jarl?”

Toto leans forward, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Tell me, how fares the celebration? Are our warriors content?”

You risk a glance up, meeting his intense gaze. “They are in high spirits, my Jarl. Your generosity knows no bounds.”

“And what of you?” Toto asks, his voice lowering. “Are you content in my service?”

A flush creeps up your neck. “I am honored to serve you, my Jarl. There is no greater joy.”

Toto nods, satisfied. “Good. I have a task for you. Meet me in my private chambers after the feast.”

As you turn to leave, a hand grabs your arm. It’s Ingrid, Toto’s wife, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What did my husband want with you?” She hisses.

You try to keep your voice steady. “He merely asked about the celebration, my lady.”

Ingrid’s grip tightens. “Do not think I am blind to the way he looks at you. Remember your place, thrall.”

She releases you and you hurry away, your mind racing. As the night wears on, you can feel Toto’s eyes following you, and the weight of Ingrid’s glares.

Finally, the feast winds down. With trepidation, you make your way to Toto’s private chambers. You knock softly.

“Enter,” comes his voice from within.

You step inside, finding Toto standing by the window, silhouetted against the starry night sky.

“Close the door,” he says without turning.

You obey, your pulse quickening. “You wanted to see me, my Jarl?”

Toto turns, his expression unreadable. “I did. Come closer.”

You approach cautiously, stopping a respectful distance away. Toto closes the gap between you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“Do you know why I summoned you here?” He asks softly.

You swallow hard. “No, my Jarl.”

Toto’s hand cups your cheek. “I think you do. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching. It mirrors the way I look at you.”

Your eyes widen. “My Jarl, I-”

“Shh,” he interrupts gently. “You need not speak. I know your heart, as you know mine.”

He leans in, his lips a breath away from yours. “Tell me to stop and I will. But know that you hold my heart in your hands.”

Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss. For a moment, the world falls away, and there is only Toto and the fire he ignites within you.

Suddenly, the door bursts open. You jump apart to see Ingrid standing there, her face contorted with rage.

“I knew it!” She screams. “You treacherous whore!”

Before either of you can react, Ingrid pulls a dagger from her belt and lunges at you. Pain explodes in your abdomen as the blade finds its mark.

“No!” Toto roars, catching you as you collapse.

He lowers you gently to the floor, pressing his hands against the wound. “Stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t leave me.”

You try to speak, but only a gurgle escapes your lips. The world starts to fade around you.

“Guards!” Toto shouts. “Fetch the healer!”

But you know it’s too late. As your vision darkens, the last thing you see is Toto’s anguished face, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I will find you,” he whispers fiercely. “In this life or the next. I swear it.”

With your last breath, you manage to whisper, “I’ll be waiting.”

As your eyes close for the final time, you feel Toto’s lips press against your forehead, sealing a promise that will echo through lifetimes to come.

Vatican City, 1493

The opulent halls of the Vatican echo with hushed whispers and the rustle of silk as you make your way through the winding corridors. Your heart races, not with the excitement of a bride-to-be, but with the desperate resolve of one about to take a drastic step.

As you round a corner, a strong hand grasps your arm, pulling you into a shadowy alcove. You find yourself face to face with Cardinal Toto, his eyes filled with concern.

“My love,” he whispers urgently, “what are you doing here? The wedding is but hours away.”

You place a trembling hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the rich fabric of his robes. “I had to see you one last time.”

His brow furrows. “What do you mean? Speak plainly, I beg you.”

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself. “I cannot go through with this farce of a marriage. My father may sell me to the highest bidder, but he cannot sell my heart.”

Toto’s eyes widen in alarm. “What are you planning? Tell me you haven’t done anything foolish.”

You pull a small vial from the folds of your dress. “It is already done, my love. The poison courses through my veins even as we speak.”

“No!” Toto gasps, gripping your shoulders. “How could you? We would have found another way!”

Tears well in your eyes. “There is no other way. My father’s ambition knows no bounds. This was the only path left to me.”

Toto pulls you close, his voice breaking. “Then I shall follow you into the darkness. I cannot live in a world without you.”

You push him away gently. “You must live, Toto. Live and remember me. Perhaps in another life, we will find each other again.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “I will not let you go. Not again. I’ve only just found you in this life, and I refuse to lose you once more.”

Confusion flickers across your face. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”

Toto cups your face in his hands. “I’ve had dreams, vivid as memories, of us in another time. A great hall, a celebration ... and a tragic end. I swore I would find you, and I have. I will not be parted from you now.”

You sway on your feet, the poison beginning to take effect. “Toto, please. You must let me go. Your life, your position ...”

“Mean nothing without you,” he finishes firmly. “Come, we must get you to a physician. Perhaps there is still time to counteract the poison.”

As he tries to lead you away, you stumble, your legs giving way beneath you. Toto catches you, lowering you gently to the floor.

“Help!” He calls out, his voice echoing through the halls. “Someone, help us!”

You clutch at his robes weakly. “It’s too late, my love. But know that I go to my death with a heart full of love for you.”

Footsteps approach rapidly. A group of guards rounds the corner, led by your father, Pope Alexander VI. His face contorts with rage at the sight before him.

“What is the meaning of this?” He thunders. “Cardinal Wolff, explain yourself!”

Toto looks up, defiance blazing in his eyes. “Your daughter lies dying, Your Holiness. Will you not call for aid?”

Your father’s gaze hardens. “My daughter knows her duty. She will marry as I have decreed.”

“She has taken poison rather than submit to your schemes,” Toto spits out. “Is your ambition worth more than your daughter’s life?”

For a moment, shock flickers across your father’s face. Then his expression hardens once more. “Guards, seize the Cardinal. He has clearly bewitched my daughter’s mind.”

As the guards move to comply, you summon the last of your strength. “Father, please. Let me die in peace, with the man I love.”

Your words give the guards pause. They look to the Pope, uncertainty in their eyes.

Your father’s face twists with conflicting emotions. “You would throw away everything for this ... this upstart Cardinal?”

“I would throw away everything for love,” you whisper. “Something you have long forgotten the meaning of.”

A tense silence falls over the group. Then, to everyone’s surprise, your father waves the guards away. “Leave us,” he commands.

As they retreat, he kneels beside you, his voice softer than you’ve heard it in years. “My child, what have you done?”

You meet his gaze steadily. “I have chosen my own fate, father. For once in my life, I have made my own choice.”

Toto holds you closer, his tears falling freely now. “Is there truly nothing to be done?” He asks, his voice raw with anguish.

Your father shakes his head slowly. “The poison she favors ... it is swift and irreversible. I had thought to use it on our enemies, not ...” He trails off, unable to finish the thought.

As your breath grows more labored, you turn to Toto. “Promise me something, my love.”

“Anything,” he vows without hesitation.

“Live,” you whisper. “Live and do good in this world. And when your time comes, look for me in the next life. I will be waiting.”

Toto presses his forehead to yours. “I swear it. I will find you again, in this life or the next.”

With your last ounce of strength, you pull him into a final kiss. As your lips part, you feel the life leaving your body.

The last thing you hear is Toto’s anguished cry, a sound that seems to echo not just through the halls of the Vatican, but across time itself.

As darkness claims you, a strange sense of remembrance washes over you. You’ve been here before, you realize. And somehow, you know you’ll be here again. For your love is one that transcends death itself, destined to play out across the ages until, at last, you and Toto find your happily ever after.

Virginia, 1863

The makeshift field hospital buzzes with frantic activity as wounded soldiers are brought in from the front lines. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder. Amidst the chaos, you move with practiced efficiency, your nurse’s apron already stained with the day’s grim work.

Suddenly, a commotion at the entrance catches your attention. Your heart stops as you recognize the unconscious figure being carried in on a stretcher.

“Toto!” You cry out, rushing to his side.

The soldiers carrying him look grim. “It’s the Commander, ma’am. He took a bullet meant for one of his men.”

You quickly assess the wound, your medical training warring with your rising panic. “Put him here,” you direct, indicating an empty cot.

As they lay Toto down, his eyes flutter open. “Y/N?” He murmurs weakly. “Is that you, my love?”

You grasp his hand tightly. “I’m here, darling. You’re going to be alright.”

Toto manages a pained smile. “You always were a terrible liar, my dear.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you scold, fighting back tears as you begin to clean his wound. “You’re not going anywhere. I won’t allow it.”

He chuckles, then winces. “If only your determination could heal bullet wounds.”

As you work, you keep up a steady stream of conversation, partly to distract Toto from the pain and partly to keep your own rising fear at bay.

“Do you remember when we first met?” You ask, your hands moving swiftly to staunch the bleeding. “At that ridiculous ball in Washington?”

Toto’s eyes soften at the memory. “How could I forget? You were the most beautiful woman in the room, and I was the fool who spilled champagne all over your dress.”

You laugh despite yourself. “And then you insisted on giving me your jacket to cover the stain, even though it was three sizes too big.”

“It was worth the embarrassment,” Toto says softly. “It got you to talk to me.”

A sharp intake of breath from Toto makes you pause in your ministrations. “I’m sorry, love. I know it hurts.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. You’re doing your best. You always do.”

You blink back tears, focusing on the task at hand. “We have so much left to do, Toto. Remember our plans? The house by the lake, the children we talked about ...”

Toto’s hand finds yours, squeezing weakly. “Tell me about them. Our children.”

You swallow hard, playing along even as your heart breaks. “Well, there’s little Torger, of course. He would have your eyes and your stubborn chin.”

“Poor lad,” Toto quips, his voice growing fainter.

“And our daughter,” you continue, your voice wavering. “She would be as smart as her father and as headstrong as her mother. Heaven help us when she would’ve gotten older.”

Toto’s eyes begin to drift closed. “They sound perfect.”

Panic seizes you. “Toto? Toto, stay with me. Please, darling, you have to fight.”

His eyes open again with visible effort. “I’m trying, my love. But I’m so tired.”

You look around frantically. “Doctor! We need a doctor here!”

But the overwhelmed medical staff are all occupied with other critical patients. You’re on your own.

“Look at me,” you plead, cupping his face in your hands. “Do you remember what you promised me on our wedding day? You said you’d love me in this life and the next. You can’t break that promise now.”

A strange look passes over Toto’s face. “The next life,” he murmurs. “Yes, I remember. I’ve always remembered, somehow.”

Confusion mixes with your fear. “What do you mean?”

Toto’s gaze becomes distant. “I’ve loved you before, Y/N. In other times, other places. I don’t know how I know this, but I do.”

You shake your head, tears flowing freely now. “You’re delirious, my love. Save your strength.”

“No,” Toto insists with surprising force. “Listen to me. This isn’t the end. I will find you again. I swear it.”

His words stir something deep within you, a sense of déjà vu so strong it takes your breath away. “Toto, I-”

But before you can finish, Toto’s body is wracked by a violent coughing fit. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth.

“No, no, no,” you chant, redoubling your efforts to save him. “Don’t you dare leave me, Toto Wolff. Don’t you dare.”

Toto manages to lift a hand to your cheek, wiping away your tears. “My brave, beautiful Y/N. How I wish we had more time.”

You lean into his touch. “We will. You’ll get better and we’ll have all the time in the world.”

But even as you say the words, you can feel Toto slipping away. His breathing becomes more labored, his skin growing cold beneath your touch.

“Kiss me,” he whispers. “One last time.”

Choking back a sob, you lean down and press your lips to his. You try to pour all your love, all your hope, all your desperation into that kiss.

As you pull back, Toto’s eyes meet yours one final time. “Until we meet again, my love,” he breathes.

And then he’s gone.

For a moment, you’re frozen in disbelief. Then a wail of anguish tears from your throat, echoing through the hospital tent.

As you collapse across Toto’s still form, sobs wracking your body, a strange sensation washes over you. It’s as if you’re remembering something you’ve never experienced — other lives, other deaths, other heartbreaks.

In that moment, you know with absolute certainty that this isn’t the end. Somehow, someway, you and Toto will find each other again.

As the chaos of the field hospital swirls around you, you whisper a promise against Toto’s cold lips. “I’ll be waiting for you, my love. In this life or the next.”

And somewhere, beyond the veil of death, a spark of hope ignites. The wheel of time turns, and two souls begin their journey once more, drawn together by a love that refuses to die.

London, 1894

The London fog hangs heavy in the air as you hurry through the winding streets, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and fear. You pull your cloak tighter, glancing over your shoulder to ensure you haven’t been followed. Finally, you reach your destination: a nondescript townhouse in a respectable neighborhood.

You knock quickly, a pre-arranged pattern. The door opens almost immediately, and you’re pulled inside by strong, familiar arms.

“My darling,” Toto Wolff murmurs, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. “I was beginning to worry.”

You melt into his embrace, inhaling his comforting scent. “I’m sorry, love. It was difficult to get away tonight.”

Toto’s brow furrows as he notices your wince when he holds you. “He hurt you again, didn’t he?”

You look away, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s nothing, Toto. Please, let’s not waste our precious time together talking about him.”

But Toto gently cups your face, turning it towards him. “It’s not nothing. You don’t deserve this, Y/N. Let me take you away from all this. We could start a new life together, somewhere far from here.”

You sigh, leaning into his touch. “You know we can’t. The scandal would ruin you. Your business, your reputation ...”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Toto insists. “I care about you. I love you.”

Those three words, so freely given, bring tears to your eyes. “And I love you. More than I ever thought possible. But the world isn’t kind to women who leave their husbands, no matter how cruel those husbands might be.”

Toto’s jaw clenches. “Then let me confront him. I have influence, connections. I could make him disappear.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, I won’t have you risk everything for me. These stolen moments ... they’re enough. They have to be.”

Toto pulls you close again, more gently this time. “They’ll never be enough. Not when I know you’re suffering. Not when every fiber of my being aches to make you my wife, to give you the life you deserve.”

You look up at him, struck once again by the intensity of his gaze. “Sometimes ... sometimes I feel as though we’ve lived this before. This longing, this impossible love. Does that sound mad?”

A strange expression crosses Toto’s face. “No, my love. It doesn’t sound mad at all. I’ve felt it too. As if we’ve known each other across lifetimes.”

You’re about to respond when a loud banging on the door makes you both jump.

“Open up, Wolff!” A familiar, slurred voice calls out. “I know she’s in there!”

Your blood runs cold. “It’s him. Oh God, Toto, it’s my husband. He must have followed me.”

Toto’s expression hardens. “Stay here,” he commands, moving towards the door.

But you grab his arm. “No, please! He’s drunk, he’s dangerous. Let me handle this.”

Before Toto can protest, you rush to the door and open it slightly. Your husband’s red, enraged face greets you.

“So it’s true,” he snarls. “My own wife, carrying on with this ... this upstart robber baron!”

You try to keep your voice calm. “Richard, please. Let’s go home and talk about this.”

But Richard is beyond reason. He shoves the door open, nearly knocking you over. Toto is there in an instant, steadying you.

“Get your hands off my wife,” Richard growls.

Toto’s voice is ice cold. “I suggest you leave, sir. Before you do something you’ll regret.”

Richard laughs bitterly. “Regret? The only thing I regret is not seeing this sooner. How long has this been going on, eh? How long have you been making a fool of me?”

You step forward, hands raised placatingly. “Richard, please. It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think?” Richard roars. “Do you take me for an idiot?”

In his rage, he lashes out, his hand connecting with your cheek with a sickening crack. You stumble backwards, crying out in pain.

Toto moves with lightning speed, tackling Richard to the ground. “How dare you lay a hand on her!” He shouts, his fist connecting with Richard’s jaw.

The two men grapple on the floor, trading blows. You watch in horror, frozen in place.

Suddenly, Richard’s hand emerges from his coat, clutching a revolver. Time seems to slow down as he aims it at Toto.

“No!” You scream, throwing yourself between them just as Richard pulls the trigger.

The sound of the gunshot is deafening in the small space. For a moment, everything is still. Then you look down, seeing the rapidly spreading red stain on your dress.

“Y/N!” Toto cries out, catching you as you collapse.

Richard stares in shock, the gun falling from his limp fingers. “I ... I didn’t mean ...”

But Toto isn’t listening. He’s cradling you in his arms, his face a mask of anguish. “Stay with me, my love. Please, stay with me.”

You reach up weakly, touching his cheek. “Toto ... my Toto ...”

“Don’t speak,” he urges. “Save your strength. Help is coming.”

But you both know it’s too late. You can feel your life ebbing away with each labored breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry we never got our chance.”

Toto’s tears fall on your face as he leans close. “Don’t be sorry. We’ll have another chance. I swear it. I’ll find you again, in the next life.”

A sense of peace washes over you at his words. “Promise?”

“I promise,” Toto vows fiercely. “This isn’t the end for us. It can’t be.”

With the last of your strength, you pull him down for a final kiss. As your lips meet, memories flood your mind – not just of this life, but of others. Viking halls, Vatican corridors, Civil War battlefields. Through it all, one constant.

Toto.

As darkness closes in, you manage one last whisper. “Until we meet again, my love.”

Your eyes close, your hand going limp in Toto’s grasp. The last thing you hear is his anguished cry, a sound that seems to echo not just through the room, but across time itself.

Indiana, 1932

The dilapidated streets of the once-thriving town are a stark contrast to the sleek black car that rolls through them. A powerful mobster sits in the back, his sharp eyes taking in the changes a decade has wrought on his childhood home.

As the car stops in front of a run-down tenement, a young boy approaches cautiously. Toto steps out, adjusting his expensive suit.

“You Toto?” The boy asks, eyeing him warily.

Toto nods. “I am. And you must be Jimmy. You’ve grown since I last saw you.”

Jimmy’s face darkens. “Yeah, well, a lot’s changed. You here to see her?”

“I am,” Toto confirms, his voice softening. “How is she, Jimmy?”

The boy’s shoulders slump. “Not good, mister. Not good at all. Follow me.”

As they climb the creaking stairs, Jimmy speaks in a low voice. “She’s been sick for months. Tuberculosis, the doc says. But she won’t stop giving her food to us kids. Says we need it more.”

Toto’s jaw clenches. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I would have-”

“She wouldn’t let us,” Jimmy interrupts. “Said you had your own life now, that she didn’t want to be a burden.”

They reach a door on the third floor. Jimmy hesitates before opening it. “Just ... prepare yourself, okay?”

Toto steels himself as they enter the small, dimly lit room. His heart nearly stops when he sees you lying on the bed, a mere shadow of the vibrant girl he remembers.

Your eyes light up when you see him, even as a coughing fit wracks your frail body. “Toto? Is it really you?”

He’s at your side in an instant, taking your hand in his. “It’s me, my love. I’m here.”

You manage a weak smile. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s not safe for you here.”

Toto shakes his head, fighting back tears. “To hell with safety. Why didn’t you tell me you were ill? I could have helped.”

Another cough shakes you, and this time, blood stains your lips. Toto reaches for a handkerchief, gently wiping it away.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” you whisper. “You’ve done so well for yourself, Toto. I couldn’t bear to drag you back here.”

Toto’s voice is fierce. “You could never be a burden. Don’t you know that you’re everything to me?”

You look at him sadly. “We were children then. The world’s changed. We’ve changed.”

“Not where it matters,” he insists. “My feelings for you have never changed.”

Jimmy, who’s been hovering by the door, speaks up. “I’ll, uh, give you two some privacy.” He slips out, closing the door behind him.

Alone now, Toto takes in your gaunt face, your hollow cheeks. “Why haven’t you been eating?” He asks softly.

You look away. “Times are hard. The children need it more than I do.”

“And what about what you need?” Toto demands, his voice breaking. “Did you think I wouldn’t want to know? That I wouldn’t move heaven and earth to help you?”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve built a new life. I’m just ... I’m just a relic of the past.”

Toto cups your face gently, turning it towards him. “You’re not a relic. You’re the love of my life. The only thing that’s mattered all these years.”

You search his eyes, seeing the truth there. “Oh, Toto. I’ve missed you so much.”

He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get you better and then-”

But you shake your head weakly. “It’s too late for that, my love. I can feel it. I don’t have much time left.”

“Don’t say that,” Toto pleads. “You can’t give up. Not now that we’re together again.”

Another coughing fit overtakes you, more violent than before. When it subsides, you look at Toto with a strange mix of sadness and wonder.

“You know,” you murmur, “I’ve had the strangest dreams lately. Of us, together, but in different times, different places. Is that mad?”

Toto’s breath catches. “No, it’s not mad at all. I’ve had them too. Like ... like we’ve lived this love before.”

You manage a small smile. “Perhaps we have. Perhaps we always will.”

Toto brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly. “Then let this not be the end. Fight, my love. Fight to stay with me.”

“I’m trying,” you whisper. “But I’m so tired, Toto. So very tired.”

He climbs onto the bed, gathering you carefully in his arms. “Then rest. I’ve got you now. I’m not letting go.”

You nestle against his chest, feeling safe for the first time in years. “Toto?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you tell me about your life? What you’ve been doing all these years?”

Toto hesitates, not wanting to speak of his less-than-legal activities. But he sees the genuine interest in your eyes and begins to talk, telling you sanitized versions of his rise to power.

As he speaks, he feels you relaxing in his arms, your breathing becoming more even. For a moment, he allows himself to hope.

But then you look up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of love and regret. “I wish we had more time,” you breathe.

Toto’s heart clenches. “We will. You’re going to get better, and we’ll have all the time in the world.”

You shake your head slightly. “Promise me something.”

“Anything,” he vows without hesitation.

“Look after them. Jimmy and the others. They’ll need someone now.”

Toto nods, tears flowing freely now. “I promise. But you’ll be here too. You have to be.”

You reach up weakly, touching his cheek. “Kiss me? One last time?”

Choking back a sob, Toto leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, desperate kiss.

As you part, you look into his eyes one final time. “Until we meet again, my love,” you whisper.

And then you’re gone, your body going limp in Toto’s arms.

For a moment, the world stands still. Then Toto’s anguished cry echoes through the small room, a sound of grief so profound it seems to transcend time itself.

As he holds your lifeless body, Toto makes a silent vow. He will find you again, in this life or the next. For a love like yours cannot be bound by the limits of a single lifetime.

Monaco, 2024

The bustling energy of the paddock swirls around you as you make your way through the crowd, one hand resting protectively on your slightly swollen belly. Despite the chaos, you move with confidence, knowing that at any moment ...

“There you are, mein Schatz,” a familiar voice calls out. Toto appears at your side as if by magic. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you feeling alright? Do you need to sit down?”

You can’t help but smile at his concern. “I’m fine, Toto. Just taking a little walk. The baby’s been restless today.”

Toto’s hand immediately joins yours on your belly, his face lighting up with wonder. “Is that so? Well then, little one, let’s find a more comfortable spot for your mother, shall we?”

Before you can protest, Toto is guiding you towards the Mercedes hospitality area, his arm protectively around your waist. As you walk, heads turn and whispers follow. It’s still a novelty for many to see the usually intense and focused Toto Wolff so openly affectionate.

“Toto, really, I’m okay,” you insist, even as you allow him to lead you. “You don’t need to fuss so much.”

He gives you a look that’s equal parts love and stubbornness. “Nonsense. It’s my job to fuss over you. Both of you.”

As you enter the cool, quiet Mercedes suite, Toto immediately starts arranging pillows on a plush sofa. “Here, sit down. Can I get you anything? Water? A snack? Perhaps a foot massage?”

You laugh, settling onto the sofa. “A water would be lovely, thank you. But then you need to relax. Don’t you have a race to prepare for?”

Toto waves a hand dismissively as he fetches your water. “The team can manage without me for a few minutes. You and our child are my priority.”

As he hands you the water and sits beside you, you can’t help but marvel at the man before you. Toto Wolff, the billionaire, the racing mogul, the man whose mere presence commands respect throughout the paddock — and here he is, fussing over you like a mother hen.

“What are you thinking about?” Toto asks, noticing your contemplative expression.

You take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Just ... how different things are now. How perfect. Sometimes I feel like we’ve been waiting lifetimes for this happiness.”

A strange look passes over Toto’s face, a mix of recognition and wonder. “You know, I’ve had that same feeling. Like we knew each other before.”

You nod, a shiver running down your spine. “It’s odd, isn’t it? But it feels ... right, somehow.”

Toto pulls you closer, his hand resting on your belly once more. “Perhaps we have known each other across lifetimes. And perhaps this is the one where we finally got it right.”

Just then, you feel a strong kick from the baby. Toto’s eyes widen in delight.

“Did you feel that?” He exclaims, his usual composure completely forgotten.

You laugh, wincing slightly. “Trust me, I felt it. I think someone’s eager to join the conversation.”

Toto leans down, speaking directly to your belly. “Hello there, little racer. Are you practicing your podium celebrations already?”

As if in response, there’s another kick. Toto looks up at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears of joy.

“I never knew I could be this happy,” he murmurs. “You’ve given me everything. A love I never thought possible, a family of my own ...”

You cup his cheek, touched by his openness. “Oh, Toto. You’ve given me just as much. More, even. You’ve given me a home, a sense of belonging I’ve never had before.”

Toto turns his head to kiss your palm. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always feel that way. Both of you.”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. Toto sighs, reluctantly pulling away.

“Come in,” he calls out, his ‘team principal’ voice back in place.

A nervous-looking intern pokes his head in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but the strategy meeting is about to start. They’re asking for you.”

Toto nods. “Thank you. I’ll be there in a moment.”

As the intern leaves, Toto turns back to you with an apologetic smile. “Duty calls, I’m afraid. Will you be alright here?”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll be fine. Go, lead your team to victory. We’ll be right here cheering you on.”

Toto stands, but hesitates. “Are you sure you don’t need anything? I could have someone bring you some snacks or maybe a blanket if you’re cold ...”

“Toto,” you say firmly, but with affection. “Go. We’re fine. I promise I’ll call if I need anything.”

He leans down to kiss you softly. “Alright, alright. I’m going. I love you both so much.”

“We love you too,” you reply, giving him a gentle push. “Now go be the brilliant team principal I married.”

As Toto finally leaves, you settle back into the couch, your hands resting on your belly. You feel another kick and smile.

“Your father’s quite something, isn’t he?” You murmur to your unborn child. “But don’t worry. No matter how busy he gets, no matter how many races he wins, you and I will always be his greatest victory.”

As you sit there, surrounded by the muffled sounds of the paddock, you’re filled with a sense of contentment so profound it almost overwhelms you. After so many lifetimes of heartache and separation, you and Toto have finally found your happily ever after.

And as your baby kicks again, you smile, knowing that this is just the beginning of your greatest adventure yet.

[tender-rosiey]

maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️

you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.

not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.

“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”

“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”

time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.

the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.

“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.

before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.

you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”

satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”

ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.

he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.

you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”

satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”

ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”

satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.

“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”

satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.

“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”

satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”

you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.

you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.

ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”

ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.

he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”

“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.

he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.

“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”

he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”

he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.

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[sturnsdarling]

'you look like this song'

{insp by @sturnioz au} smartand'mean'!reader is getting ready in fratboy!Matts room whilst listening to Nirvana, and he can't keep his eyes, or hands, off of her.

vibe check: fluffy smut with no real plot, everyone's (my) fave

2k words

A/N: This is for the anon who's having a shitty month, i hope you love it and i hope it makes your september a little better. I had this idea after Matt was listening to nirvana on stream, i need to sit in his room and listen to music whilst i get ready on his floor and i need it NOW.

love and cigs, merc

You were sat on Matts bedroom floor, wearing nothing but a black lingerie set and a pair of fishnet tights with the crotch ripped out, a gift from you to Matt from a previous bathroom hookup. Your legs were crossed underneath you as you did your makeup in the body length mirror that you had found on the street, and claimed as your makeup mirror in Matts room.

You tugged at your eye slightly, smoking out the black liner you had just applied, effortlessly achieving that 'slightly fucked out but still hot' look that had become your signature style. Your playlist was on a loop, always hooking your phone up to Matts speakers regardless of whether or not he was there or not. 'Smells like teen spirit' by Nirvana began to play, the steady drums making the floor vibrate slightly.

The door clicked open, and Matt walked in the room, looking at his phone and bopping his backward cap clad head along to the music before turning his attention to you. You looked to him in the reflection from your spot on the floor and, of course, he was already looking at you. You shot him a small smile before returning to your makeup, moving onto applying a dark burgundy lip with a slightly open mouth.

Matt came to stand behind you, caressing your slightly tangled hair with a large hand. His hand came down to the side of your face and slid down your jaw, watching you intently in the mirror. Your focus didn't waver, still focused on your makeup as you patted and rubbed your plump, dark lips together.

Matt felt as if his mouth had began to water at the sight of you, his hand coming down to your jaw as the song continued to play in the background. He tugged at the bottom of your jaw, moving your head so you were looking up at him from your perched position on the floor, him towering behind you.

"hey, tough girl" Matt smirked, his hand snaking its way up and down your neck with soft fingers.

You smiled in return, batting your lashes at him like a cat, "hi, Matthew"

"you look sexy as fuck right now, you know that?" He said, his words rolling off his tongue like honey.

You chuckled slightly, rolling your eyes and attempting to return to doing your makeup, Matt tutted at your slight attitude with faux anger, pulling your head back up to face him as he leaned down on bent knees, capturing your neck in his hand and kissing you roughly.

The force he kissed you with sent you backwards, Matt catching you in his lap as he met you on the floor. Your head was cradled in his legs, your view of him upside down. Kurt Cobain was shredding on the guitar, the sound giving your face a whole new beauty that Matt was lost in.

"you look like this song" Matt muttered, in awe of how completely beautiful you were.

You couldn't help but laugh, lifting yourself up and turning round to face him, your legs tucked under you like a baby deer, "what?" you said with a smile.

Matt brought a hand to your jaw, swiping his thumb along your smudged lipstick, knowing it was probably stained on his mouth too,

"y'know how this song makes you feel when you listen to it? like you're vibrating, you can feel every cell in your body and your heart thumpin' in your chest so hard it could break a rib" Matt said, quoting you the first time you played this song in his presence.

"yeah?" You smirked with furrowed brows, letting Matt poke and prod at your puffy bottom lip.

"thats how you make me feel, when I look at you" Matt finally brought his eyes to yours.

Matts words made you feel warm all over, you couldn't even muster up a reply, the only thing in your mind being how not only was that easily the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you, but how all you wanted to do in that moment was pin matt to the floor and ride in him into oblivion for remembering your exact words about one of your favourite songs of all time.

His eyes were pouring into yours, your breathing got slightly heavier and your mouth parted. The song was coming to end, steady drums and repeated 'hellos' being the only sound in the room as you attempted to form a sentence in reply to Matt.

Nothing you could think to say was coherent, or appropriate for the time frame in which you'd known each other so, you did the one thing you knew Matt would understand.

You threw yourself into him, capturing your lips in his with feverish passion, pressing your tongue against his almost immediately. Matt welcomed your attack, kissing you back with matched desperation. You crawled onto his lap, straddling him and raking your hands through the tangled curls at the nape of his neck, pulling his hat off to give you better access to his soft brown hair.

Matts hands were on your waist, pulling you down into him as he lowered you both onto the floor, his back pressing against the hard wood. His hands snuck up your nearly bare back, the feeling of his skin against yours sending you into a frenzy. Every press of his finger tips felt like hot wax as you quietly moaned into his mouth, grinding your hips against his, trying to chase any friction you could.

Matt tensed at your movements, hips rutting up into yours involuntarily as you pushed your barely clothed pussy down on his growing bulge.

"need it, now" you whimpered into the kiss, your words demanding but your tone desperate.

Matt chuckled, "right now, angel? thought you were gettin' ready?" he muttered into your mouth, chasing your lips.

"right now" you replied, speaking in two word sentences, unable to shake the fever that had overcome you.

Matt smirked and slid his hands down your back and over your fishnet covered ass, pulling apart your cheeks slightly, making you arch above him like a cat. Your hands left his hair and dipped in between the two of you, you fiddled with the button of his jeans, snaking your cold hand into his jeans.

Matt let out a short hiss, and you captured his mouth in yours once more, pumping him as best you could under the restriction of his jeans. Matt moaned into your mouth, and brought his hand down to your ass, smacking it in encouragement. You used your other hand to fumble with the top of his jeans, pushing them down with needy whines and whimpers into the messy kiss.

Once you had managed to free Matt of his jeans, him doing nothing to help, enjoying watching you be so desperate for his cock, you sat up, still pumping him in your hand as you did. Matt watched in awe, with your lipstick smudged over your face and your eyes fluttering with needy ache, you'd never looked more beautiful.

Matt came up slightly to rest on his elbows, eyes still trained on yours. You brought your free hand to his mouth and swiped your middle and index over his stained lips, Matt knew what you wanted, and took your hand in his, opening it into a small bowl in front of his mouth. He held eye contact with you, and collected his saliva on his tongue, spitting it into your palm. You smiled, taking your now wet hand and replacing the hand on his cock with it.

The feeling of your sticky hand against his cock made his head roll back on its hinge, eyes fluttering as a low groan left his mouth. You shifted your hand up and down his length, rubbing his spit all over his throbbing shaft and over his leaking pink head. Shifting slightly, you lifted yourself up, pulling your underwear to the side and lining Matts tip up with your aching hole.

You lowered down onto him, the burning stretch of his cock filling you up as you sunk down inciting a breathless moan from you, nudging your puffy clit against the scattering of hair at the base of his cock as you let him nestle into you completely.

Matts mouth was opened wide, his head snapping back up to watch as you sucked him into your tight walls completely, brows burrowed at the sensation of you clenching around him.

You began to move, resting your hands against his chest as leverage as you moved to place the bottoms of your feet against the floor, squatting on top of him.

The new angle made your pussy grip Matts cock in a way he'd never experienced before,

"oh fuck" Matt said through gritted teeth as you began to bounce on him.

You were lost in it, his earlier words playing on repeat in your mind as you moved up and down his veiny cock, relishing in the sting of him stretching out your unprepared pussy. Despite the lack of foreplay, you were soaked, and you could feel yourself leaking sticky juices against the base of his cock every time he bottomed out side of you.

Whimpering, desperate moans left your throat as you fucked him, taking him as deep as you could, milking him with every bounce. Matt couldn't keep his eyes off where the two of you met, watching as you rose up and down on his length, his whole body tingling at the feeling of your tight pussy coupled with the slight sting of your nails digging into your chest.

"m'gonna cum if you keep riding me like this, angel" Matt said, breathlessly as he reluctantly tore his eyes from your skin slapping against his and met your eye line.

"s'what I want, cum inside me, please" you mumbled, begging as you relentlessly milked his cock.

"you - fuck - you know the rules, angel, you -" Matt cut himself off with a moan, "you cum first" his eyes flit back to the sight of your perfect pussy taking him, and he brought his thumb up to your mouth, pushing it inside and laying it against your warm tongue.

You pushed your tongue against his digit, wrapping your lips around his lowest knuckle with a small hum. Matt pulled his thumb from your mouth with a pop, taking his free hand and using it to push you up slightly, giving him better access to your clit and the perfect opportunity to wrap his hand round your throat.

Matt laid back completely onto the floor, with one hand on your throat, and the other working your clit, he watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to control your contorting face as he worked a relentless pace on your sensitive nub. You picked up your speed, ignoring the ache in your thighs as you desperately worked to get Matt to cum.

"tell m-" you stuttered, "tell me again"

Matt smirked, the events of the last few minutes adding up in his mind, you liked it when he told you how he felt about you, without actually telling you.

"you look like a Nirvana song, angel, so pretty n' so messy, all for me" He cooed, trying his best to make his words clear despite his fucked out, wavering tone.

"mphm" your brows knit together, you shifted your position, straddling him once more to grind your hips back and forth against his.

The drag of your pussy against his base, along with the wet, sticky pace Matt was setting on your clit and his perfect words made you see stars, and you came all over his cock, vision going blurry as you reached your high.

You moaned out his name, unable to stop the noises that left your mouth as you shook above him, legs tensing around his hips and nails digging little crescent moons into his chest.

"fuck, pretty girl, you look s'good when you cum all over my cock" Matt said, bringing a hand to hold your hip, grinding you down onto him faster as you started to get lightheaded.

"y'want me to fill you up, angel? soak your perfect pussy in my cum whilst your favourite songs play in the background?" Matt mumbled, slowing his pace on your clit and moving his other hand to your hip.

"please" you whimpered

Matt didn't need any more permission, he lifted you up slightly, the movement making you flop forward onto him, catching yourself with a hand round his jaw. Without warning, he began to pound into you, using his grip on your hips as leverage to mercilessly fuck your weeping pussy.

You let out a broken moan, trying to capture his lips in yours but failing, trailing wet, sloppy pecks on his mouth as he thrust into you at a feverish pace, grunting and groaning at the feeling of you clenching around him.

"so fuckin' needy for me, tough girl, all because I told you somthin' nice" Matt said though gritted teeth, "you feel as good as you look, y'know that?"

You couldn't even begin to muster a reply, only moans spilling from your mouth as Matts relentless pace into your pussy made you completely cock dumb. With a few hard, long thrusts, Matt buried himself inside you completely, dick twitching in your walls as he coated them with his cum, moaning your name as he went limp beneath you.

You breathed into each others mouths, foreheads rested against each others as your body weight relaxed down onto him.

"you gonna keep getting ready, angel?" Matt mumbled, pulling out of you.

"mhm" you nodded breathlessly, "just need a minute"

Matt chuckled, wrapping his tattooed arms around you as you caught your breath on top of him. "okay tough girl" He said, just before pressing a long kiss into the side of your head.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour

[rcmclachlan]

Heard this was the place to come if we wanted to know about pregnant Buck talking to the baby about the station tasks 🤔

@dadvans is a dirty enabler. He's also the one who came up with the idea of Buck calling the kid "probie" fyi

+

When Tommy walks into the 118, it doesn't feel quite like a homecoming, but when Bobby catches sight of him and smiles as though Tommy's presence isn't just welcome, but expected, something inside him relaxes as though it were twenty years ago and he's about to walk up the stairs to sit down for another incredible family dinner. 

"You guys get called to the thing with the Aon?" Grinning, he shakes Bobby's proffered hand as a matter of course, and part of him can't help but glow under Bobby's approving gaze.

It feels a bit like he's cheating on Captain Salazar, who took Tommy under her wing the second he got to Harbor and has given him free rein to do whatever he damn well pleases when he's in the air, but she doesn't cultivate the familial aura that cleaves to Bobby like a shadow. He likes and respects the hell out of her, but he probably wouldn't steal a helicopter and fly into a hurricane for her.

Some people were meant to be parents; Bobby Nash is definitely one of them. Tommy's working on it. 

Bobby gives a sporting but ineffective swipe at the soot smeared across his forehead with his wrist. "Normally falling space junk knocking over a skyscraper would take the cake, but since twenty million bees weren't released into the city, I'm calling it a ho-hum sort of day."

There's something severely wrong with them that the third-tallest building in LA breaking in half like a Kit Kat Bar doesn't rank above bees, but Tommy had to fly through that shit storm, so he can't disagree. The next person who says 'bee-nado' is getting thrown off the Santa Monica pier.

Speaking of. Tommy throws a quick glance at the three engines parked in their usual spots in the hopes of catching a glimpse of movement, and he's either losing his touch or never had it to begin with, because he's clocked immediately.

Bobby gives him a knowing look.

Caught, Tommy chuckles. "At the risk of sounding patronizing, how much did he overdo it?"

"Buck didn't mind being on winch and hose duty," Bobby says wryly. At Tommy's dubious look, he adds, "Okay, he did try to sneak into the thick of it once or twice, but he complained only a little when I threatened to hogtie him and chuck him in the back of the ambulance."

"Only a little? That's unlike him." Tommy can perfectly picture the mulish pout on Evan's ridiculous lips because someone forbade him from running into a building that was hanging at a 240° angle. 

"Hen may have also hinted that she'd break out The Powerpoint again if he didn't stop whining," Bobby admits. The capital letters are audible.

Tommy gives a low whistle. "That was diabolical of her."

He unfortunately hadn't been there when Hen presented You're Living For Two: A Comprehensive List of Things Buck Will Avoid for the Next 8 Months or Hen Will Have Him Committed (With A Foreword Written By Maddie Han) to Evan and the rest of the 118, but Eddie had texted Tommy throughout the whole thing like he was live tweeting a football game. At slide 40, which had five charts demonstrating the rates at which acute physical stress increased the risks of miscarriage and low birth weight, Eddie sent him a picture of Evan's cowed expression. Slide 43 ("Deli Meat A No-No"), on the other hand, got him a video of Evan in a heated argument with Hen, Howie, and Bobby about the merits of that. 

It ended when Bobby shouted, "It's not just you that you're risking, Buck! Every time you deliberately put yourself into harm's way, you're also risking my grandchild!" and Evan burst into tears and sobbed, "You can't say things like that when you're taking hot dogs away from me!" 

When Evan came home that day, he announced that mentioning The PowerPoint—and anything to do with Microsoft in general—was verboten for the next thousand years. Tommy couldn't help but quip, "It looks like you're upset about your family wanting you to carry this pregnancy safely to term. Would you like help? Yes, no, or cancel?" 

He was forced to sleep on the couch for three nights. He regrets nothing.

"Where is everyone?" The station is eerily quiet for a day spent trying to get ahead of a falling building.

"Burrito run. Buck volunteered to stay behind. He still getting carsick in traffic?"

"Let's just say we've been putting the emesis bags Howie gave us to very good use. Is he busy?" Tommy lifts the bag in his hand so Bobby can see the grinning face of the Colonel himself. "I come bearing gifts."

Bobby laughs the laugh of a man who knows firsthand that Evan's insatiable cravings for KFC's mashed potatoes are the only thing keeping the lights on at the location on W Pico Boulevard. He gestures past Tommy toward the engines. "Last I saw him, he was giving a class on proper hose maintenance."

"Appreciate it, Bobby," he says and starts heading in that direction.

"Tell him he'd better not be promoting bad coupling habits." Tommy turns around, wide-eyed, but Bobby's already got a hand up to forestall the laughter he must know is inevitable. Bobby's grimacing so hard it looks like he might severe his carotid. "I regretted it the second I said it. Do me a favor and phrase it a little better?"

"I make no promises." Snickering, Tommy turns back to the engines and swings the KFC bag cheerfully as he goes, making a mental note to mention this in the OG 118 group chat. That ought to give Howie enough ammo to last through Christmas. 

As he rounds Engine 3, he hears the susurrus of voices, which he expected, but as he gets closer he realizes it's just one voice, which he didn't. He comes to a stop right where the engine's rear strip on the storage compartment ends and ducks behind it a little to try and figure out exactly what he's looking at.

Bobby had said Evan was teaching and Tommy figured that meant he was holding court with the station's two newest recruits, but he's kneeling on the floor and carefully re-rolling a hose while he talks to an audience of precisely zero.

"Now this is called a straight roll," Evan says, voice modulated to be slow and easily understood. It's textbook perfect pacing. Tommy has no clue who it's for. Maybe he's filming a video? "I'm folding the male coupling over and then rolling it to the female coupling, which are unnecessarily gendered terms, but I wasn't in the room when they came up with the names, so."

Tommy's so distracted by how the muscles in Evan's arms strain against the sleeves of his uniform as he methodically rolls the hose that he almost misses what Evan says next.

"Now Daddy wants to do a Dutch roll, because it takes about five seconds and it's hilarious, but Grandpa Bobby would slaughter Daddy if he ever found out. Apparently letting the couplings drag on the ground is the eighth deadly sin." Evan rests back on his shins and pants a little, then pats the planetary curve of his belly with a grin. "Hope you're taking notes, probie. There will be a test."

There are two things in Tommy's life that he will never be able to forget, even if he had a full-frontal lobotomy; even if he wanted to:

The first is the way Evan's shoulders curled inwards as if bracing for a blow while he haltingly apologized about goading Tommy into fucking him after the condom ripped, about how Tommy didn't have to worry because Evan was relieving him of all responsibility, and that he didn't have any expectations because Tommy never asked for this and he hoped someday Tommy would forgive him for keeping what they'd accidentally created together. 

Tommy isn't a violent man, but sometimes he fantasizes about going back through Evan's life and beating the shit out of everyone who ever made him feel unwanted, or treated him like a consolation prize. Even in the early days of their relationship, when Tommy's respect for certain boundaries or simple acts of kindness would make Evan visibly recalibrate, Tommy had to stop himself from demanding a list of names. He has one now, and part of him would like nothing more than to start with Evan's parents and work his way down.

The second is the teary, disbelieving grin that broke across Evan's face like a sunrise when the sonographer pressed the ultrasound wand to his belly and the room filled with the jackrabbiting whup-whup-whup sound of their kid's heartbeat. Evan had looked over at him, laughed wetly at the struck-dumb expression Tommy knew he was sporting, and said, "Sounds like the Bell 206." 

When he reached out for Tommy, the fluorescent lights had glinted off the engagement band Tommy'd bought like a complete lunatic four months after Evan kissed him in the lobby of First Presbyterian. He'd kept it hidden in his toolbox until three months later, when Evan put on a brave face and tried to let him off the hook. 

But he didn't have far to go, because Tommy was already reaching back for him. The metal of the ring was warm where it pressed against his fingers. And if his heart was so full of love and wonder that he cried a little, no one commented on it. Well, Evan did when they got in Tommy's truck after their appointment and then went straight to KFC, but that was to be expected. He'd taken the ribbing like a champ. 

Watching Evan—now in the second week of his third trimester, the hem of his shirt fighting for its life where it stretches around his belly—earnestly teaching the kid still cooking inside him about proper hose care, Tommy knows he'll never forget this one either. He's pretty sure his life is going to be one unforgettable moment after another from here on out.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he walks out from behind the engine and gets a hand under Evan's elbow to help him get to his feet. It takes every ounce of his willpower to stand back and let Evan carry the hose over to its compartment and attach it to the main connection site himself. He's learned to grit his teeth and give help only when it's asked for. He has no desire to start up that argument again.

"So?" Tommy happily takes Evan into his arms while Evan happily takes the KFC bag out of his hand. "Is our kid going to graduate from the Academy or wash out completely?"

Evan grins at him. Tommy knows at least 45% of the love in his eyes is reserved for the mashed potatoes. "I'm calling it now: they're gonna be fire chief by the time they're twenty. Youngest in the entire country. What do you think, probie? You up for the challenge?"

Tommy places a hand gently on Evan's belly and immediately feels movement against his palm. Their kid hasn't given Evan a moment's peace since week 15; at any given moment, they're flipping around in there like they're doing zero-gravity training for a space mission. The familiar fluttering feeling makes his heart cramp. 

That's their kid in there. They made that.

"I think that's a yes," Tommy murmurs, pressing a kiss to Evan's temple, then hanging there for a moment, breathing him in. Breathing them in. "Love you."

"God, I love you so much, you don't even know," Evan says, cracking open a container with a pleased hum.

Tommy smiles dopily, then reality trickles in. "You're talking to the potatoes, aren't you?"

"Of course not," Evan lies through a mouthful of KFC's finest spuds.

[howtofightwrite]

So. There is no safe place (in the body) to be shot. There are places that are slightly safer than others to be stabbed (i.e. being stabbed in the meat of your calf is less likely to be lethal than your torso). For the purposes of an arrow wound, which feels like a combination of shot+stab for a swords n sorcery world, is there a “less lethal” place to take an arrow? My character is traveling with companions and gets into a fun little goblin skirmish. I need her to catch an arrow somewhere that will be concerning, but not immediately fatal. Magic Bullshit™️ will keep the wound from healing properly for a few days, but I’ve accounted for field wound care (cleaning and bandaging and such) as she’s being taken on horseback to get proper treatment.

Not deeply.

So, the problem with all of these is tissue disruption. If the injury gets deep enough, the chances that it will hit something vital (especially on the torso) increase dramatically. So, getting stabbed and having the blade catch bone, instead of getting in deeper is “relatively” safe. Similarly, getting stabbed (or shot) in the hand or foot is unlikely to kill you (though, those injuries are likely to result in permanent damage impairing the use of injured appendage.)

Arrows are a little different, in a couple of ways. First, if you get shot, you do not want to pull that off (nor break it off and push it through.) That will increase the risk of bleeding out. Arrows make fairly large holes in people, but if the arrow sticks in the wound (which, it should) it will actually limit the amount of bleeding. Effectively the wound has a partial plug in it. Pulling out the arrow means that plug is no longer there, and they can happily bleed to death on the spot.

The second thing about arrows is that they actually pin muscle together. Think of it a bit like holding two pieces of meat together with a toothpick. If the toothpick isn't there, the pieces can slide across each other without issue, but that's not possible when there's a wooden shaft running through them. Your muscles are a complex web of meat, that slide over each other as you move. Pinning those together means that part of your body will actually lock up. For example, if you're shot in the shoulder, you won't be able to adjust the position of your arm. It's been toothpicked, and it's not going anywhere.

Arrowheads can get wedged in bone. If it's a broad head, or hunting tip, that will be obnoxious to get out.

At the risk of reading too much into your setting, goblins often means poisons, or other nastiness. Though, really, even just getting a tetanus infection (it used to be called “lock jaw”) from their blades is a pretty horrific potential fate. Even if the wounds themselves were relatively minor (cuts and scrapes, maybe a graze or two), a couple days might still result in some pretty horrific harm after the fact.

Also, remember, it's unlikely that bacteria will be understood by the medical science of your setting. So, first aid would still run a real risk of secondary infections.

Depending on their skill in first aid, anything outside of a severed artery or catastrophic organ damage should be (technically) survivable, though the wounds could easily result in permanent impairments, depending on exactly what was hit. A punctured lung might not kill her, but it could result in permanent respiratory issues, such as a cough, and chronic pain while breathing heavily from then on. It could also result in pneumonia and death, which is also, usually, pretty permanent.

Some of this depends more on where you want to land on a spectrum between dark fantasy and swords & sorcery. The genres are similar (and potentially overlapping), but can scatter out into dramatically different works. But, you do have some options on how you want to proceed.

-Starke

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[sillyuin]

Silly Puppies. Svt reacts (97 line).

Genre: Fluff, crack (kinda).

Pairing: 97'z x reader.

Summary: You're on you aparment spending time with your puppy as they hear you calling him "your soulmate". How will they react to this statement?

Divider by @cafekitsune

Minghao. He doesn't say a single word and his face is out of any expression. Obviously, you catch his attention, but not in the way you’d like; he knows you very well and understands that you just want to provoke him, and that's a game that two can play.

“Hao,” you hummed to catch his attention as he raised his gaze from his cell phone to you. “Don’t you think our puppy is adorable?”

His response was nothing more than a hint of a smile, then he turned back to his phone screen.

“See? He doesn’t pay attention to me,” you whisper while hugging your pet, who responds by wagging his tail joyfully. “That’s why you are my soulmate.”

Hao shifted his eyes from the phone to look at you while you gaze at him with wide, contemplative eyes; his face remains calm. You’re eager for his reaction, but he knows your intentions and what’s hiding behind those innocent eyes, so he’s not going to be fooled so easily.

“Excuse me, were you talking to me?” he asked, placing a hand on his chest to emphasize the question.

“No, I’m talking to him.”

He clicked his tongue and got up from his seat. “Then you can stay here with your soulmate” he gestured with his hand to shamelessly point at the puppy in your arms, “there’s surely enough space for you both on the couch.”

“Hao, wait!” you stretched your hand to reach him, but he had already turned his back to walk away.

“Sorry, I’m going to MY room to sleep in MY bed.”

Dokyeom. Breaking his heart should be a crime, and you’re the one to blame. How could you do that? Now you must face the consequences.

“Have I told you that you are my soulmate?” you patted your pet's head while he remained seated. “Yes, you are.”

“y/n, the bathroom is all yours,” Dokyeom entered the living room with a towel on his shoulders and wearing pajamas.

“I’m going, I was just telling to my soulmate how beautiful he is.”

“But,” he chuckled softly, “you haven’t said anything to me.”

“It’s not with you,” you leaned down to give the puppy a kiss on the head. “It’s with him.”

“Then I… I won’t…”

“Come on, don’t take it too serious…” You stood up to give him a hug, but Dokyeom rejected you by turning his back to walk away. “No, Seokmin!”

You followed him to the room’s entrance, calling him with desperate voice, and you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw his downcast face, his dark eyes like a sad puppy. You swallowed hard; it was the first time you saw Seokmin that sad.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” You approached to give him a hug, gently stroking his back, and he reciprocated the gesture.

“Well…” His voice sounded a bit more cheerful. “… If you give me a kiss, I might forgive you.”

“Lee Seok Min!” You quickly pulled away only to find him laughing in your face. “Why are you playing with me like this!?”

“You started it! Don’t run away, don’t get mad at me!”

Mingyu. He is not someone who gets upset with you, but bringing him down from that position, from HIS position, is something very personal, no matter who it is, and he will not shut up about it…

“Gyu,” you said as you entered the kitchen. Mingyu turned his gaze from the stove to you, a tender smile forming on his lips when he saw you with your pet in arms. “Can I come in?”

“Go ahead,” he returned to what he was doing; whatever he was cooking smelled very good and had him quite busy. “Don’t worry, I’m all ears.”

“Did you buy food for him?” You tilted your head, pointing at the puppy. “My soulmate can’t go hungry.”

Those words fell heavily on Mingyu’s ears, who slowly turned his head toward you, his eyebrows raised in surprise, but not in a good way.

“Did you just say… that…?”

“That my soulmate can’t go hungry,” you repeated, bringing the puppy closer to your face, trying to make a cute expression.

Mingyu turned off the stove and left everything he was doing as if an emergency had occurred.

“Take that back,” he said in a half-serious, half-joking tone while pointing his finger at you. “Take it back right now.”

“Come on, I was joking.” You bent down to let your pet stay on the floor. “Are you really going to get angry…”

“That title is mine, and mine only.” There was a rather strange silence, which ended when you burst out laughing loudly, and he continued. “Hey, don’t laugh at me!”

“I'm sorry,” you wiped the corners of your eyes, filled with tears. “It’s just… it’s just a puppy, don’t get jealous!”

“Jealous?” Mingyu wrapped you in his arms and started kissing your cheeks repeatedly. You tried to break free, but the more you struggled, the harder it was to escape. “You are mine, and I’m not sharing!”

“Alright, you win!” you exclaimed between laughs. “Just let me go, Mingyu!”

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us II

Summary:

Aemond learns about his impending fatherhood as things get a little heated in his office with Y.N and he seeks the support of his brothers before he confesses all to Alys.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Features a Flashback Memory, Swearing, Fingering, Alcohol Consumption, Infidelity, Mild Violence, Kissing, Oral Sex (F & M Recieving), P in V.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 7177

A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Y.N stepped into Aemond’s office, her breath catching at the sight of him sitting on the edge of his desk, arms folded, his head cocked slightly to the side, a smirk playing on his lips.

Gods, look at him.

His fitted black suit clung perfectly to his lean form, the eye patch and his long silver hair tied half-up in that effortless way. Her eyes flicked down to his lips-those lips and the way they-

No. Not here. Not now.

“Y.N. What a pleasant surprise,” Aemond greeted, his voice smooth as he gestured toward the leather sofa. She smiled nervously, walking past him, aware of his gaze lingering on her.

She crossed her legs as she sat, and Aemond's eye darkened briefly with memory—of how her skin felt beneath his fingers, the taste of her, the way she came undone in his arms.

The way those perfect tits of hers bounced as she rode him.

His cock stirred involuntarily, and he had to shake his head to rid himself of the thoughts.

Aemond took a deep breath and sat next to her, trying to maintain composure. Silence stretched between them, the tension palpable.

“Y-You have a nice office,” Y.N. said, breaking the silence.

“Thank you-” Aemond replied, his gaze never leaving her. “-So what can I do for you?” His tone was light, but she could sense the underlying curiosity.

Oh gods. Here we go.

Y.N. took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “I-I’m p-pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unmistakable. Aemond stared at her, stunned into silence.

His usually sharp mind blanked as he tried to process what she had just said to him.

He sat there, motionless, expression unreadable, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“Aemond?” Y.N. waved her hand in front of his face, concerned. “Did you hear me?”

Aemond blinked, snapping out of his daze. “D-Did you just say-that you’re pregnant?”

“Y-Yes” replied Y.N.

“How?” asked Aemond cringing internally at his own idiocy as he knew how babies were made.

What a fucking moron you are Targaryen.

 “Well, we didn’t use protection,” Y.N said quietly.

Aemond groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. The reality of his actions settled over him like a weight.

That night had been intoxicating—too good, too overwhelming for either of them to think clearly. The alcohol didn’t help, and neither did her tight wet cunt wrapped against his cock. He had lost all control.

He was utterly shameless in his need to feel her like that again, but now wasn’t the time for that.

He took her hand instead. “Forgive me for asking, I know you and Jace broke up, but was there any-”

“-It’s not Jace’s,” Y.N. interrupted quickly. “I’m eight weeks along-and I haven’t been with Jace in months,” Y.N. continued. “-I haven’t been with anyone else either. You were the last”

A possessive thrill shot through Aemond, knowing she hadn’t been with anyone else since their night together.

Aemond swallowed, still trying to wrap his head around it.

A child. Their child. A piece of him and her together. Growing inside her right now. His seed had taken root inside her womb.

Fuck he was getting hard.

“I came to tell you because it’s the right thing to do,” Y.N. said, her voice steady. “But I won’t force you to be involved. If you don’t want anyone to know, then I’ll keep it a secret.”

Aemond’s grip tightened around her hand, his eyes flashing with anger. “You want me to forget you’re carrying my child?” His voice was low and dangerous. “That’s not happening”

“I can do this on my own,” Y.N. replied firmly. “I’m perfectly capable.”

“So, you’re keeping the baby?” Aemond asked, and Y.N. looked hurt by the question.

“Of course I’m keeping the baby,” she snapped, her eyes stinging with emotion. “Would you rather I have an abortion?”

“No!” Aemond quickly said, his tone softening. “That’s not what I meant-I just-I never thought I’d have children. And now-this-” He ran a hand over his face, overwhelmed.

His composure slipped as he reached up and wrenched off his eyepatch, throwing it on the sofa.

Y.N. stared at the sapphire in his eye socket, her breath hitching at the sight of him.

Even in this vulnerable moment, Aemond was breathtaking. His raw beauty had always left her speechless.

“We should get married,” Aemond blurted out.

Y.N. gasped, shocked. “We can’t. What about Alys?”

Aemond stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the office, frustration rolling off him in waves.

Damn it. He was in a relationship, and not only had he cheated, but now Y.N. was pregnant.

“I’ll tell Alys-” Aemond said, taking a deep breath. “But I want to be involved. In everything. The baby, the appointments, all of it. I won’t run away from my responsibility-”

Y.N. nodded, relieved that he wanted to be there. She reached into her handbag and pulled out the scan photo. “I only have one copy-” she handed it to him.

Aemond stared at the tiny figure, a smile tugging at his lips.

Their baby. His baby. A tiny person that he helped to create.

He handed back the scan photo as Y.N. took out her phone and seconds later, his phone buzzed with a message. He opened it to find a picture of the scan.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I mean it, Y.N. I want to be there. For you and our baby”

Y.N smiled and stood up, slowly smoothing the wrinkles out of her skirt.

“Where are you going?” asked Aemond.

“I’ve said what I needed to say. Now, I’m starving, and I need pickles.”

Aemond grimaced “Pickles?”

 “The baby makes me want them” laughed Y.N

Before she could leave, Aemond reached out, gently placing his hand on her stomach. Y.N. smiled at the touch.

They were so close, and Aemond couldn’t resist as he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid around her body, pulling her close as the kiss deepened.

He slowly backed her up against the door, lifting her slightly as she moaned into his mouth, feeling the hardness of his cock pressing into her.

His hand slowly moving under the fabric of her skirt, skimming the soft flesh of her thigh before his fingers rubbed her pearl over the cotton material of her knickers.

“Already so wet for me” groaned Aemond.

“A-Aemond” breathed Y.N.

“Does it feel good baby?” asked Aemond.

“Oh-Aemond-yes-please” whimpered Y.N as he moved her knickers aside and slid two of his long fingers inside her.

“It’s been so long since I last felt you” whispered Aemond as he curled his fingers inside her.

“So long-oh yes” replied Y.N moving her hips in time with Aemond’s fingers.

“Are you going to come already? I can feel you clenching” muttered Aemond, his fingers still moving inside her.

“Yes-Yes. I-I’m going to-” whimpered Y.N

“Shhhh-” urged Aemond as he surged forward his lips on her muffling her scream as her peak exploded, her cunny clenching around Aemond’s fingers.

A sudden knock at the door broke the moment, and they pulled apart, breathing heavily.

Aemond lowered her gently back to the floor, his forehead resting against hers for a brief second.

“Let me if you know if you need anything,” whispered Aemond as he removed his fingers and then put them in his mouth, his tongue swirling around his fingers, savouring the taste of her.

“I-I w-will” muttered Y.N as Aemond pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

Aemond watched as she smoothed out her clothes and left the office a little wobbly legged.

Once she was gone, Aemond poked his head out of his office and barked at his assistant, “Hold my calls for fifteen minutes.”

With a heavy sigh, he pulled out a bottle of whisky from his desk drawer, taking a long drink.

Holy shit. He was going to be a father. Y.N. was the mother of his child and he'd just fingered her in his office.

What the fuck was he doing?

Aemond sat alone in his office, staring out the window at the sprawling city below, but his mind was far from the towering skyline.

His fingers drummed idly on the armrest of his chair, the familiar hum of work barely registering.

Instead, memories of that night played out vividly in his mind, as if they had happened just moments ago-

He leaned against the lower bar at the Dragon's Den, swirling his drink, trying to convince himself he was here to unwind.

Aegon and Daeron had practically dragged him out, insisting he needed to loosen up after weeks of work.

He had reluctantly agreed, not because he wanted to, but because the constant pressure at Targaryen Inc. had left him worn thin.

It was actually Helaena’s text that had first piqued his interest. She had casually mentioned that she was going clubbing with Y.N.

He hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but now, as he scanned the room and his eye landed on her, he felt like someone had punched him in the gut.

Gods, that dress-those legs. He wondered what it feel like to have his head between them.

She looked absolutely incredible, more beautiful than he remembered. His heart stuttered in his chest, and his grip tightened around his drink.

He had known Y.N. for years, ever since school. At first, she had been just Helaena’s annoying friend—always around, always talking.

He couldn’t stand her back then. Or so he’d told himself.

But then one day, something shifted. She stopped being annoying, and he found himself thinking about her far too often.

A stupid, insecure kid who hid behind sarcasm and cruelty because he couldn’t handle the fact that she made him feel something.

His eye injury had left him insecure about his appearance, and he’d been too much of a coward to admit how he really felt. Instead, he was a prick to her.

Always keeping his distance, always lashing out. But that didn’t stop him from thinking about her constantly.

Didn’t stop him from fucking his fist at the thought of her, imagining what it would be like to touch her, kiss her, have her.

So pathetic.

But she’d gone off to a different college, and by the time she came back, everything had changed. He’d started working at Targaryen Inc., and Alys had entered the picture.

She had gotten involved with Jace, his strong-bastard nephew. Aemond clenched his jaw at the memory, the bitter taste of jealousy rising in his throat.

Of all the people she could have been with, it had to be him-

Aegon elbowed him, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Stop staring at Y.N.,” he laughed, clearly enjoying Aemond’s discomfort.

Aemond scowled, pushing Aegon away. “I’m not staring at anyone. Get lost.”

But Aegon wasn’t buying it. He smirked, clearly amused by the whole thing. A group of girls walked past them, giggling, shooting flirtatious glances in their direction.

Daeron, who had been quietly sipping his drink, sighed. “There are some lovely women here tonight.”

Aemond barely registered his younger brother’s comment. His gaze flicked back to Y.N., who was still across the room, laughing with Helaena.

She looked radiant, so effortlessly beautiful it hurt. He wondered if she’d noticed him, or if she was too wrapped up in whatever she was talking about.

Daeron leaned closer. “Aren’t you with Alys? I’m not sure she’d approve of you staring at other women.”

Aegon chimed in with a chuckle. “You know Alys is all wrong for you.”

Aemond sighed heavily, the conversation grating on him. “Give it a rest.”

His brothers never missed an opportunity to remind him of how ill-suited Alys was. Maybe they were right. Maybe they weren’t.

It didn’t matter, not when Y.N. was here, looking like that, making it impossible for him to think of anything else.

Then Daeron had to open his mouth, “Isn’t Y.N. dating our nephew?”

Aemond muttered an insult under his breath, something about Jace’s strong parentage.

Aegon, ever the instigator, laughed. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

Aemond drained the rest of his drink, rolling his eyes. “Just because you have the morals of an alley cat doesn’t mean everyone else does”

But even as he said it, his gaze wandered back to Y.N. Then, their eyes met—across the dancing crowd, over the flashing lights.

For a moment, the noise of the club faded away. She looked at him, really looked at him, and the connection between them was instant.

There was something in her eyes, something that made his pulse quicken. And then he smirked, unable to help himself.

Daeron, clearly enjoying the scene, downed the rest of his drink. “Watch and learn brother” Before Aemond could stop him, he was already making his way over to Y.N., striking up a conversation.

Aemond watched, feeling the familiar surge of jealousy tighten in his chest as Daeron led her to the dance floor.

Damn that dress and how she looked in it.

All Aemond could think about was what she might be wearing underneath it—if anything at all.

He wanted her. Badly. Wanted to pull her close, kiss her, feel her body pressed against his, sink his cock into her.

Aegon leaned in, laughing. “Daeron seems to be making progress.”

Aemond scoffed, unable to tear his eye away from Y.N. “Not for long.”

He had seen it—her glances, the way she looked at him over Daeron’s shoulder. That look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Finishing his drink, he set the glass down with determination. He wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines any longer.

As Daeron danced with her, Aemond pushed his way through the crowd, locking his gaze on her.

That night, every sense of control he had possessed was gone. That carnal, desperate urge overtook him, and Alys—everything else—became a distant memory.

It was reckless, it was wrong, but he didn’t regret a damn thing.

The next morning, as he watched Y.N. walk around her kitchen in her little shorts and tank top, that fire ignited in him all over again.

Sure, he could blame the alcohol, but deep down, he knew the truth—they had always had something.

Something more than physical attraction. Something that went deeper, beyond lust.

She had always matched him intellectually, always pushed him, always knew how to get under his skin.

Even back in school, when she critiqued his every answer in class or challenged him, she had ignited something in him no one else ever had.

Not even Alys.

When he first started dating Alys, the allure had been there—an older woman, the mystery of it all. But it had eventually soured.

He’d wanted to end things, but his grandfather Otto had convinced him to keep her around, considering her ties to Larys Strong.

His feelings for Alys were muted and shallow. He’d settled because he never thought he’d have a real chance with Y.N.

But now, everything had changed. Y.N. was pregnant with his child. They’d kissed and gods help him he’d fingered her in his office, and if they hadn’t been interrupted, he was sure he would have had her bent over his desk.

She had infiltrated his mind, his body, his every waking thought.

Gods, he was so screwed.

Aemond sat across from his brothers at the dining table in his penthouse, the three of them surrounded by hastily opened containers of Chinese takeout.

For a while, they ate in silence, the occasional clatter of forks and slurping of noodles the only sounds in the room.

“So,” Aegon began, leaning back in his chair, “-What was the big emergency that you needed to invite us over for?”

Aemond finished chewing and wiped his mouth with a napkin, eyes flicking between his brothers. He let out a slow breath, bracing himself before speaking. “Y.N. is pregnant.”

Daeron, mid-swig of his beer, sprayed it everywhere in shock, while Aegon choked on his spring roll, coughing violently.

Aemond sat there, watching as they both struggled to recover, stone-faced.

When Aegon finally caught his breath, he croaked, “Are you being fucking serious?”

Aemond nodded. “Yes.”

Daeron blinked, wiping his mouth. “How did that happen?”

Aemond gave him a deadpan look. “Surely I don’t have to explain the dynamics of sex to you, little brother.”

Daeron wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Eww, no thanks-”

“So, she’s pregnant?” said Aegon his face a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Aemond, clearly growing impatient, shot up from his seat. “Yes, she’s pregnant! There’s a baby growing inside her, and I’m the fucking father!”

Daeron, still processing, blurted out, “Haven’t you heard of condoms?”

Aegon burst into laughter, nearly knocking over his plate. “Oh, for all the lectures I’ve had to endure from our mother over the years about safe sex, and it’s my little brother who didn’t wrap it before he tapped it. Now he’s having a baby out of wedlock—Mother is going to kill you.”

Aemond narrowed his eye at Aegon. “Try not to sound so happy about it.”

“I’m going to enjoy it because, for once, it’s not my fault,” Aegon shot back with a grin, leaning forward in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.

Daeron, laughing now, pointed at Aegon. “It was your idea to go to the club, so technically it is your fault.”

Aegon jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. “Shut up”

Daeron, still grinning, shifted the tone. “It’s not just mother you should worry about. What about Alys?”

Aegon jumped on that immediately. “Maybe mother will be happy to have a grandchild, especially knowing Alys isn’t the mother.”

Aemond shook his head, not wanting to think about the impending confrontation with Alys. It was a situation that grew more complicated by the second.

Daeron’s expression turned curious as he asked, “Is that why Y.N. was at the office today?”

Aemond’s eyes sharpened. “How do you know she was at the office?”

“I saw her leaving,” Daeron shrugged. “She seemed a little flustered.”

Aegon’s face lit up, noticing the shift in Aemond’s expression. “What happened?”

“N-Nothing,” Aemond muttered, eye narrowing in warning.

Aegon, giddy with excitement, leaned forward, voice teasing. “Did you fuck in your office?”

Daeron, now laughing along with Aegon, added, “Did you?”

Aemond took a long swig of his beer, then sighed. “No. We didn’t, but we almost did. We kissed—and I may have had my hand under her skirt, but we were interrupted.”

Aegon raised his beer in mock sympathy. “Aww, how unfortunate for you. But come on, you can admit it now—you’ve got a thing for her.”

Aemond’s patience snapped. “I do not!”

Daeron chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes, you do. You’ve had a face like a wet weekend since you slept with her, and now you’re positively glowing. Just admit it.”

Aemond set his beer down a little too forcefully. “I like that she’s intelligent and I like her smile.”

Aegon scoffed, almost choking on his drink again. “That’s not the only reason you fucked her. Let’s face it—she’s better for you than the wicked witch of the west.”

Aemond ignored Aegon’s jab, reaching for another beer with a sigh. “Hurry up and finish your food. Alys will be round soon, and I’d rather not have an audience when I tell her.”

Aegon made a dramatic face of mock horror. “Don’t be a spoil sport.”

Daeron nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you could at least video it, so we have enough evidence to give the police when she kills you.”

Aemond growled at Daeron, but his younger brother just exchanged a look with Aegon before the two of them burst into laughter.

Aegon shook his head, grinning wide. “I’m not rushing my food and giving myself indigestion just so you can panic over telling your girlfriend you’ve knocked up another girl—oh man, I can’t believe I said that. It’s so scandalous.” He laughed harder. “You dirty dog!”

“Aegon, duck!” warned Daeron.

Aegon moved just in time to avoid the remote that Aemond hurled at his head.

Laughing even harder now, Aegon got up, grabbing his jacket. “Perhaps we should go, Daeron. Mr. Sensitive over here looks like he’s about to have a hernia.”

Daeron stretched and stood up, finishing his beer. “Fancy a quick stop for a stronger drink before we head home?”

“Sure, why not?” Aegon slung his arm over Daeron’s shoulder as they headed to the door. “After Aemond’s baby bombshell, I think we both deserve one.”

Aemond, fists clenched, shouted after them, “Get out!”

Their laughter echoed through the hallway as they left, waiting for the lift, still teasing him as the door closed behind them.

Aemond stood in the middle of his penthouse, his heart racing as he received a text from Alys: “On my way over, be there soon. Can’t wait to see you. xx”

Panic set in immediately. The place was a mess after his brothers had left, the takeout boxes still scattered across the dining table and the remnants of their impromptu meal cluttering the space.

He could already hear Alys’s voice in his head, scolding him if she arrived and found the place looking like a pigsty.

Plus she would likley nag him about eating take out and not eating the proper food to keep his body fit, even though he worked out regularly.

Without wasting a second, Aemond rushed into action. He grabbed the empty takeout containers and tossed them into the trash, wiped down the table, and hurriedly washed the dishes.

The sounds of clinking plates and running water filled the otherwise silent kitchen. He could feel the pressure mounting, not just from the impending arrival of Alys, but from everything that had built up over the past few days—weeks, even.

Once the place was spotless, he sat down on the edge of the sofa, bouncing his leg anxiously as he waited.

His thoughts raced. How would he tell her? How could he possibly explain what had happened, not just with Y.N., but the baby?

He barely had time to dwell on it before he heard the familiar ping of the lift doors opening, followed by the clicking of heels on the polished floor.

The door unlocked, and in walked Alys, arms laden with shopping bags. Aemond immediately stood up, hurrying over to take the bags from her.

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips in gratitude and moved to sit on the sofa. Aemond placed the bags down beside her before asking, “Did you enjoy your shopping trip?”

“I did,” Alys replied as she slipped of her heels “I saw Helaena.”

Aemond’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh, right. Everything okay?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but panic surged through him.

He prayed that Helaena hadn’t mentioned anything about Y.N. His sister didn’t know about the baby-yet, but she did know that he’d spent the night with Y.N.

“She was-muttering to herself and walked off before I could say hello,” Alys said, her tone dripping with mild annoyance. “Honestly, she’s so weird.”

Aemond’s patience, already stretched thin, snapped. “You know I don’t like it when you insult my sister.”

Alys smiled, standing up and walking over to him, her hands moving slowly over his chest as she offered an apology.

“I’m sorry darling” Her hands slid lower, and she pressed her body against his. “You seem-a little out of sorts. Maybe I can help with that,” she whispered before kissing him.

He kissed her back out of reflex, but it felt wrong, his mind, traitorously, drifted to Y.N.

Aemond remembered how she had looked in his office when he had his hand in between her legs, how wet she was and the sounds she made as she climaxed.

A flash of heat surged through him, and his cock began to get hard, and Alys mistook his sudden flare of arousal as desire for her.

She managed to undo his belt, but the instant her fingers began fiddling with his buttons, reality snapped back into place.

Aemond recoiled, pulling away from her.

“What’s wrong?” Alys asked, her voice sharp as she watched him hurriedly button up his trousers and wrench off his eyepatch.

He caught the brief look of disgust she gave when she glanced at his sapphire eye—so different from Y.N., who had told him he was beautiful, making him feel seen in a way Alys never had.

But he couldn’t think about Y.N. right now, not with Alys standing in front of him, waiting for an explanation.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of what he had to confess. Turning to the drinks cabinet, he pulled out a hidden pack of cigarettes, lit one quickly, and took a long drag.

“I thought I told you to quit that,” Alys said, her voice tinged with irritation.

“I need it” Aemond muttered, exhaling smoke, trying to calm his nerves.

“You’re acting strange,” she noted, suspicion creeping into her voice. “What’s going on?”

Aemond took another drag before stubbing out the cigarette, steeling himself. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Alys crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

He exhaled slowly, avoiding her gaze. “Do you remember when you were in America with Larys?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice guarded. “Why?”

“I went out with Aegon and Daeron while you were gone,” Aemond began, feeling the weight of the confession build in his throat. “Helaena was there-with Y.N.”

Alys’ expression darkened at the mention of Y.N. “What have you done, Aemond?”

He swallowed hard. “I had too much to drink. Alys, I’m sorry, but I-I slept with Y.N.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Alys stood frozen, processing what he had just said.

Then, in a flash of fury, she picked up a vase and hurled it at him.

“You did what?” she screamed.

Aemond ducked, the vase smashing against the wall behind him.

Before he could react, she grabbed another smaller vase and hurled it at him, her eyes blazing with rage.

“How could you do this to me?!”

He dove behind the sofa, barely dodging the second vase as it shattered on the floor.

“It was a drunken mistake,” he lied through gritted teeth.

The truth was that it hadn’t felt like a mistake at all.

It had been incredible, and he’d thought about it every day since. He wanted it to happen again, even though he knew it was wrong.

Gods, he was a terrible person.

Alys’ voice cut through his thoughts. “Do you have feelings for her?”

Aemond stood slowly from behind the sofa, his gaze hard. “No.”

Another lie.

He did have feelings for Y.N. He always had, even before Alys.

Alys stepped closer, her voice trembling. “Was it just once?”

“Yes,” muttered Aemond.

Another lie, he had his hand between her legs today.

She took a deep breath, her anger momentarily subsiding as she considered the situation.

“Maybe we can-work through this-”

Aemond cut her off, his voice low. “-There’s something else I have to tell you.”

Alys’s eyes narrowed in suspicion again. “What else could you have possibly done?”

Aemond took another breath, the words heavy on his tongue. “Y.N. is pregnant.”

In anticipation of Alys throwing something else at him, Aemond instantly dropped to the floor, hiding behind the sofa again.

He peeked over the back of the couch and saw Alys standing there, her face drained of colour.

“How do you even know it’s yours? She’s seeing your nephew.”

Your nephew too, if the rumours are true.

“No, she’s not,” Aemond replied as he stood up, feeling his frustration rise. “They broke up months ago. The baby is mine.”

Alys’ expression twisted with disgust and hurt. She pulled on her heels and reached into her bag, pulling out the keys to his penthouse, and throwing them onto the floor.

“I’m leaving.”

“Alys, I’m sorry. It was an accident—”

“Oh, what happened?” she snapped sarcastically. “You tripped, and your cock  just happened to land inside her?”

Aemond grimaced, unable to respond.

Alys’ voice cracked as she asked, “Is this because I can’t have children?”

Against his better judgment, Aemond stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. “No, that was never an issue.”

She buried her face in his chest, sobbing. “How could you do this to me? I love you.”

Aemond rolled his eye, his inner voice immediately chafing at her words.

Loves my name more like.

After a moment, Alys pulled away, her face hardening.

“It’s over,” she said, her voice shaking but firm as she gathered her shopping bags and left without another word.

Aemond winced as she slammed the door.

Well, there’s no going back now.

Y.N. sat curled up on her sofa, watching Jaws on the television, the tension building in the movie as she readied to take a bite of her pizza.

Just as the shark loomed on screen, a loud knock at the door startled her, making her jump. She quickly checked the time—8:30 PM.

“Who the hell is visiting at this time?” she muttered under her breath.

If it was Jace, she swore she was going to kill him. She was sick of the barrage of text messages he’d been sending.

One moment, he was apologetic and sweet, the next, angry and demanding. She hadn’t replied to a single one all day.

Peering through the peephole, her stomach flipped when she saw long silver hair on the other side of the door.

“Oh, bugger,” she mumbled, her hand hesitating on the door handle.

What was Aemond doing here?

She opened the door, and before she could say a word, Aemond blurted out, “I told Alys.”

Y.N. blinked in surprise. “Oh-you’d better come in, then.”

Aemond stepped inside, and as he passed, she wrinkled her nose at the faint odour of whiskey that clung to him.

He didn’t seem drunk, just tense and slightly dishevelled. He flopped onto the sofa, immediately eyeing the pizza box.

Without asking, he reached over and snagged a slice.

“Oi! That’s mine,” Y.N. scolded.

“But I’m hungry,” Aemond shot back with a smirk.

“You have a perfectly good penthouse. Bugger off and get your own pizza.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a lazy grin. “Yeah, but you’re not in my penthouse.”

Y.N. couldn't help but smile at the awful attempt at whatever the hell that was supposed to be.

She sat down beside him, shaking her head. “Don't steal my chips.”

Aemond pouted dramatically. “Aw, come on. Don’t be stingy.”

With a smirk, Y.N. poured a generous amount of garlic sauce over the chips, thinking it would deter him.

Aemond laughed, stuffing a handful into his mouth. “Joke’s on you. I like garlic sauce.”

He licked the sauce off his fingers, and for a moment, Y.N. stared at him, feeling unexpectedly flustered.

She quickly cleared her throat. “So, uh-how did Alys take the news?”

Aemond sighed, leaning back against the sofa. “She threw a couple of vases at me-and then ended things.”

Y.N. felt a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

Aemond shook his head. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who pursued you, even though I had a girlfriend.”

His gaze shifted to the flowers sitting on the side table. “Who are those from?”

Y.N. sighed. “They came today. From Jace.”

At the mention of his nephew’s name, Aemond’s eye narrowed, a spark of irritation flashing across his face.

“What does that twat want?”

“He keeps asking me to get back together with him,” Y.N. said, rolling her eyes. “-he knows about the baby-just not who the father is.”

“Oh, really?” said Aemond smugly.

 “Don’t you go telling him either.”

“Would I?” laughed Aemond wriggling his eyebrows.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how that conversation will go-” Y.N. sighed. “It’s not like I can call him up and say, oh, Jacey, you know that I’m pregnant? Well, your uncle Aemond is the father. Yeah, the same uncle who’s eye your brother carved out when you were kids, and the same uncle who you got into a fight with five years ago at a family dinner because he made a strong toast”

Aemond sniggered, remembering the altercation with Jace and the satisfying feeling of breaking his nephew’s nose.

Y.N. glanced at him and then at the pizza. “Want another slice?”

Aemond shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Y.N. cheered and immediately began eating with gusto, “I’ve. Just. Been. So. Hungry. Lately” each word followed a bite of pizza.

Aemond sat there, watching her with a soft smile, thinking about how lovely she looked—even with a smear of pizza sauce on her cheek.

When she finished, Aemond grabbed the empty boxes and tossed them into the bin. When he returned to the sofa, he was chuckling softly.

“What?” Y.N. asked, confused.

“You’ve still got tomato sauce on your cheek,” Aemond said with a smirk.

Before she could wipe it off, Aemond leaned in and kissed her cheek softly, running his tongue over the sauce.

The unexpected gesture made Y.N. gasp, and when she looked at him, their faces were mere inches apart.

The air between them grew thick, hot, and charged with unspoken desire. There was no hesitation—no denying what had been building between them.

Their lips collided in a passionate, heated kiss. Aemond wrapped his arms around her, lifting her easily into his lap as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

Y.N.’s fingers tangled in his silver hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, fiery and intense. Aemond stood, still holding her, and carried her effortlessly toward the bedroom, their mouths never parting.

Aemond’s lips never left Y.N.’s as he lowered her onto the bed, their breaths ragged and hurried, the heat between them building to a fever pitch.

His hands roamed her body eagerly, fingers brushing over the soft fabric of her p.j shirt before slipping underneath.

Y.N. gasped into his mouth as his touch sent shivers racing down her spine, her own hands moving to tug at the hem of his shirt.

In a flurry of movement, Y.N. pulled his shirt up, and Aemond broke the kiss just long enough for it to come off before their lips met again, more demanding this time.

His own fingers worked quickly on riding her of the strappy shirt she wore. The cool air hit her chest as her shirt slid off her shoulders, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of Aemond’s body as he pressed closer to her.

Y.N. arched into him, her hands moving with purpose, her fingers deftly unbuckling his belt, pushing it aside with urgency.

Aemond groaned, feeling her touch so close to where he needed her, but his focus was on her now.

His hands slid down to the waistband of her shorts, pushing them down in one smooth motion, her legs helping to kick them off entirely.

Fuck she wasn’t wearing any knickers.

The intensity in his gaze as he looked at her, bare beneath him, made her heart race even faster. She pulled at the waistband of his trousers, and he quickly complied, standing just long enough to let them fall to the floor, his shoes kicked off hastily.

As soon as he was back over her, their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, Y.N. let out a low moan at the feeling of his warmth, the weight of him against her.

His lips moved to her neck, kissing and nipping gently, while his hands slid down her sides,

“Let me take care of you” muttered Y.N as she placed kisses along Aemond jaw and then down his neck, making sure to gently nip and suck his skin as she went.

She carried on moving down, pausing as she reached his chest, she grinned as she took one of his nipples into her mouth, her tongue teasing it before she bit down.

“FUCK” moaned Aemond.

“Do you like that?” asked Y.N as she moved across and gave his other nipple the same

“Oh. Gods-” whimpered Aemond as she moved further down his body, her tongue and teeth grazing his pale skin.

When she reached the trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock, she pressed her nose against him and giggled when she felt the hair tickle her skin.

Aemond lost his senses the moment Y.N’s warm, wet mouth quickly wrapped around the head of his swollen cock.

Her tongue gently moving around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond knew it would push the limits of his control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her perfect pink lips stretched around him.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted.

Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of Aemond’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand cupped his balls.

“Shit-Y.N. I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

Y.N took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking?” asked Y.N.

“Y-Yes. Now get up here and ride my face until I’m ready again” gasped Aemond.

“Are you sure?” whispered Y.N

“Get up here-now” ordered Aemond, his cock already twitching with interest.

Y.N hovered above Aemond’s face; her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Such a pretty pussy" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Y.N’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it. Let me hear you” 

“YES. It feels so good” whimpered Y.N.

“FUCK” growled Aemond.

“Ooooh A-Aemond-just like that” shrieked Y.N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y.N "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds, his nose bumping against her pearl.

“Oh" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving as she began to gently roll her hips against him.

“That’s it, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond.

Y.N was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that surely her neighbours would hear.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. Come for me baby, come for daddy” moaned Aemond.

Finally, he felt Y.N’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Y.N’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at Y.N’s centre as she came.

After a few minutes, Aemond gently urged her to move down, so she was hovering above his cock.

Her hand wrapped around him, running the head of his cock along her warm wet folds.

“Your such a tease” moaned Aemond as his hips jerked involuntarily.

“But it feels so good” replied Y.N as she slowly moved down on his cock, so only the tip of him was inside her.

“P-Please” whimpered Aemond.

“Uh-uh” said Y.N shaking her head from side to side.

After a few minutes Aemond couldn’t take it anymore and seized Y.N’s hips, before sheathing his hard cock into her soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" screamed Y.N.

"Gods. You feel so good-missed you-missed this-" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Y.N, her tone bordering on desperate as she rolled her hips against his.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of Y.N squeezing his cock.

“P-Please” whined Y.N as Aemond began teasing her pearl with his thumb.

“That’s it-take all of me”

“OH-MY-“ shrieked Y.N.

“You like that?” groaned Aemond his other hand grasping her hip.

"Faster, please" begged Y.N.

“Like this?” replied Aemond as he gave a quick deep thrust.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Y.N.

Her hands ran along his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Y.N" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Y.N "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me”.

Aemond knew exactly what Y.N was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Y.N wanted faster, and he was going much faster now, his feet planted on the bed to give him more leverage and his pace increased with every filthy word that dropped from Y.N’s luscious lips as he thrust into her.

“Aemond-I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y.N.

Y.N looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

Aemond then withdrew, ignoring Y.N’s whimper of protest as he rolled her onto her back and quickly sheathed himself inside her again.

She wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, drawing him closer as he began to thrust inside her, his cock reaching deep inside.

“I-I’m going-to come” moaned Aemond.

“Yes-oh don’t stop-please Aemond” whined Y.N.

That, combined with how glorious Y.N felt, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed.

Aemond shifted slightly, adjusting his position so he could wrap an arm around Y.N.'s waist, pulling her closer.

His hand instinctively splayed across her stomach, fingers resting gently against the tiny curve there, a silent acknowledgment of the life growing inside her.

He stared down at her in the dim light, watching as her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing softening into the slow, rhythmic pattern of sleep.

For a moment, Aemond couldn't move. He could still feel the lingering electricity between them, the intensity of their passion moments ago still hanging in the air.

But there was something more now—a quiet sense of peace as he held her, his thumb absentmindedly stroking small circles on her stomach.

His mind wandered to the future, to the child they were now tied together by, to the uncertainty of what would come next.

Y.N. shifted slightly in her sleep, turning toward him, her head resting against his chest. Aemond closed his eye, letting out a slow breath, feeling the weight of everything, yet feeling more grounded than he had in a long time.

He held her a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before resting his cheek against her hair.

TBC

[kisakis-boyfriend]

any juice for baby boy shinichiro?

when ppl put him with a partner who is taller, extremely attractive and just generally insanely out of his league...ive seen some ppl write this exact trope for both male and female readers and omg its so satisfying for the soul. + his friends reacting to how the fuck did shin pull a big dick supermodel. godtier trope

nsfw but genuinely do what you prefer either way!! love to read everything you put out, regardless of the contents or characters haha

♦️

Author's Note: I made the reader a literal model because I really like that idea, hehe. HCs + scenarios filled with plenty of sub Shin getting his entire world rocked, just for you, anon! 😜

Pairings: Shinichiro x male reader

Warnings: Male model!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Shinichiro, risky sex, sixty-nine, size kink, mild hand fetish

• Who would ever think that Mr. Handsome who visits the local mechanic shop was actually dating the shop's owner?! No one, clearly

• Customers whisper amongst themselves after you and Shinichiro step into the office in the back, and, if they're lucky, they might catch a glimpse of you two locking lips

• Or a glimpse of your strong arms bending Shin over his own desk. They try to avert their gaze once they realize that you're about to pound the store owner's brains out right then and there

• On many occasions, he's had to take off work the next day because his legs have become jelly… and if you really feel bad for him, you'll give in when he sniffles “You'll need to take care of me while I recover :(”

• It's not any different when your lovely partner comes to visit you at work. Photographers can be impossibly picky some days, and when you pose for hours in little to no clothing for, yet another, underwear ad, it is nice to see your lover's smiling face walk through the door

• Shinichiro brings you lunch—made by his own hands, of course—complete with a note or doodle. And when he doesn't cook, you'll jump at the opportunity to leave the studio for a lunch break together

• The crew at the studio are always annoyed at how long you're gone, but what they don't realize is that more than half of your "lunch break" is just you and Shinichiro banging in the public bathroom

• Shinichiro isn't short, though when he stands next to you, he sure feels like it… you're nearly a foot taller than him (or more) and quite muscular to boot. And yes, you will use these facts to tease him

His arm stretches as far as it can, but it's just not enough to reach the item he needs on the tippity top shelf. He calls out to you for assistance, and you stroll into the room, grinning mischievously as the gears turn in your head.

“Aw, shorty can't reach it all by himself?”

Shinichiro pouts, “I'm not short, you're just too tall! …But I do need help getting that down please…” he relents.

“Of course.” to his surprise, he's suddenly lifted up by his waist, now at the correct height to reach what he needs. With embarrassment quickly setting in, Shinichiro snatches the item then stammers for you to "put him down, now!"

He thinks himself safe when his feet touch the floor again, but it's only for a second. As quickly as you let go of his waist, you spin him around and plop him on top of the counter. The blush dusting his cheeks begins to show as you still tower over him, even now. His eyes slowly close as you kiss him—eagerly pushing your tongue past his lips and pulling a few moans out of him.

…aaaand just like that, you pull away and leave. Leaving behind a lightheaded mechanic with a newfound throbbing sensation between his thighs.

• If it's not obvious yet, I do think Shin would have a bit of a size kink. Maybe he doesn't realize it until he's actually with you, but it's definitely there

• Someone larger than him, laying their weight on his back while a massive cock fills him so much that it creates a stomach bulge? Yeah, that's the good shit 🥴

• I just had an image of 69'ing with Shinichiro pop into my head… ugh

Wrapping your lips around his pretty dick while he struggles to take half of yours. His tip is leaking already, and you gladly accept everything that drips out and onto your tongue.

Shin arches his back, enjoying all of these sensations; your hot mouth around his cock. Your cock pushing further and further into his mouth. Your hands spreading his cheeks apart and–

“Mmgh~ babe, please…”

“Please what?” you ask, popping off his dick long enough to ask a question that you already know the answer to.

A groan echoes within his throat, garbling the words attempting to escape through his lips. “D-do it… I can take it.”

With a serious fire lit within you, you suck his cock deeper into your mouth. Gently, at first, a finger eases its way into Shin's hole, making him arch deeper and dig his nails into the skin of your thighs. Soon after that, a surge of cum surprises you, shooting down your throat as you're forced to swallow it. Poor baby is apologizing when he hears your choked moaning… he didn't mean to cum yet, you just made him feel so fucking good 🥺

• He looooves having your hands on him~

-> Hands holding his waist while you slide into him. Breath heavy and right in his ear, whispered words of praise and how fucking tight he is

-> Hands connecting with his as you pin him down and steal (yet another) kiss

-> Hands working their magic on his erection. Both hands wrapping around his cock, milking more out of him like a relentless living fleshlight

-> Hands combing through his messy hair after a ride in the town. Detangling the knots as best as you can before he takes a shower

-> Hands on his lips, sliding into his mouth while you coo “Good boy~”

-> Hands scissoring his hole open. Making his knees wobble as you take it nice and slow, rhythmically pumping in and out with your thick fingers

-> Hands wiping tears from his eyes on your wedding day ❤️

• Uh um, yeah… moving on 😵‍💫

• Now, since you're a model, Shinichiro has gotten some unwanted attention from random strangers and paparazzi. It's mostly when you're seen together, but some fans have even shown up at his shop just to ask if you were there 🤐

• You're very quick to tell anyone off though. Polite, if possible, yet stern all the same. Because gods help any person who's dumb enough to lay a hand on your man, or even make him uncomfortable in the slightest. All of your muscles aren't just for show

• And, as a model, you have been known to pull a few strings. Only a few times. But you were able to have Shin as a guest for a few magazine covers or spreads

It's hard to act professional when his beloved is basically nude—nothing except the brand's boxers to cover that thang that makes Shinichiro squirmy and wet.

The photographer wants some rather intimate shots of Shinichiro sitting on your lap, facing you. The makeup on his face does help hide the growing blush, but to you, as you sit merely inches apart—it's quite obvious.

You also notice the semi-boner underneath his own set of boxers… you have to remind him that this is a professional setting, and he needs to calm down or you'll both get in trouble. But honestly, how can he? Even staring into your gorgeous eyes would be enough to turn him on!

Gently, you rub his back and whisper to him “Keep it together here, and I'll give you a private show later tonight, ok?” To which Shinichiro enthusiastically shakes his head, nearly making himself dizzy.

Oh, the things you do to him later~

• Now, about his friends and family……… yeah they have no idea how the hell Shin is dating you

• They don't mean it in a rude way either. It's just, you're literally actually a model… you're insanely attractive, handsome, breathtaking, kinda fuckin rich?, and so on and so forth. So, what made you choose to stay in Shinichiro's hometown (save for business trips and vacations) as opposed to, oh I don't know, living in some mansion or beach house surrounded by other models?????

• Every single time, your answer is the same: “Because I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him”

• Yes, your career is important to you, but you can travel when need be for that. Shinichiro Sano lives here, and you're not willing to give him up

• As siblings do, Shinichiro's younger ones definitely make fun of him for being with someone way way waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy out of his league. But it's all in good fun. Besides, they're also protective of him, and make sure you know that, if you ever break Shin's heart, they'll break a leg or two :) (especially Izana… that guy kind of scares you… except he's also a sweetheart once he realizes that you also care about his brother)

[sheerfreesia007]

Masterpiece of a Confession

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 1,802

Content warnings: Fluff, mention of alcohol

Summary: You and Hyunjin have made plans to hang out tonight. What happens when you find him a gift that he’s been eager to get his hands on, and when you present it to him he confesses to you?

Seoltang: Sugar

There was just something so comforting to you whenever you went shopping for hobby supplies. The store was perfectly lit to be able to show you all the colors of the materials that you were looking to buy. Not to mention all the sales that would normally come along. As you walked slowly down the aisle with all the multicolored yarn and thread you smiled softly while your hands gently trailed over the ones you liked. You picked out a few for a project that you were just starting and then a few more that caught your attention.

Just as you moved further down the aisle your cellphone began to ring and you smiled when you recognized who the ringtone was for. Fishing the device out of your bag you quickly answered the phone and held it to your ear still smiling.

”Hey Jinnie.” You greet him happily and he chuckles softly on the other end.

”Hi Seoltang, where are you right now?” He greeted and asked kindly. You could hear the smile in his voice as you continued to walk down the aisle perusing the merchandise.

”At the craft store picking up some material for my new project.” You tell him as you stop to look at some hand dyed material that catches your eye.

”Do you want to come hang out later once I’m done with this photoshoot? I miss you.” He says softly into the phone as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear how sweet and soft he’s being. You smile to yourself at his tone, Hyunjin has always been like this with you. He was always able to relax and be himself whenever he was with you and you loved that about your relationship. Plus the fact that you were able to be such a comfort to him made your heart sing with joy.

”Of course I do. Do you want me to pick up some food for us and Changbin?” You ask him kindly when you turn down the paint aisle and smile softly at the reminder of your friend.

”Changbin’s going out with Jisung and Chan tonight. It’s just going to be the two of us.” Hyunjin responds and you nod your head at his words as you spot Hyunjin’s favorite brand of paint before walking over to it.

”Alright so then I’ll grab us some food, anything in particular you’d like?” You ask as you grab some of the paint colors that you know he runs out of a lot and slip them into your basket.

”I don’t know, comfort food?” He muses curiously and you nod your head knowing exactly what he means. Today had been a bit of a gloomy overcast day and it really should’ve kept you in your cozy bed but you were on a mission to get all of your errands done.

”Italian from that little mom and pop place not far from your apartment?” You ask curiously and Hyunjin gasps and hums in delight.

”Oh you read my mind.” He gushes out softly and you chuckle at him as your eyes continue down the shelves of paints when suddenly something catches your eye. “Maybe we can try some of those Aracini balls that we weren’t able to try last time.” He suggested and you hummed in agreement.

”Oooh that sounds great. I’ll make sure to get an order of those for us.” You tell him as you move down the aisle closer to the multicolored box in hopes that it was what you thought it was. Hyunjin had been going on and on about this paint set that he wanted to try but every time he tried to get it in any craft store they were always sold out, as you reached up and grabbed the box you nearly let out a squeal in delight! It was the same set that he had been talking about, and luckily for you it looked like it was the last one on the shelf. 

“Well I really called you to talk about our days but it looks like I don’t have that long of a break today.” Hyunjin sighed softly and you frowned in response to his words before beaming as you slipped the paint set into your basket.

”That’s okay Jinnie, we’ll have all of tonight to talk about our days.” You reassured him sweetly and he hummed softly in response.

”I can’t wait to see you tonight Seoltang.” He said softly. “I’ll see you later, I gotta get back now.”

”I’ll see you later Jinnie.” You respond happily and hang up the phone before quickly making your way to the registers to pay for your things. You were eager to get home so that you could wrap the gift for him and give it to him tonight when you saw him.

*-*-*-*

Your trek up to Hyunjin and Changbins’ apartment is an easy one for you as you eagerly stride up the stairs two at a time. You’ve got your tote bag that holds the wrapped gift for Hyunjin as well as a bottle of wine that you found in the family owned restaurant when you went to pick up your dinner order. It had looked and sounded like something the two of you would enjoy together while eating so you had bought it.

Just as you make it to the top step of their floor you stop for a second letting yourself catch your breath and you hear a soft sweet giggle coming from the side. Turning your head you grin at a giggling Changbin who eyes you happily.

”That eager to get to him yah?” He asks knowingly and you blush softly at his teasing which causes him to giggle more. “Don’t worry he’s just as eager for you.” He says before giving you a quick hug and then continuing on down the stairs. “I’ll sleep over at Chan’s place tonight so don’t worry if you have a sleepover.” He calls over his shoulder teasingly.

”Changbin!” You scold softly and he giggles loudly once more at you before waving at you over his shoulder.

”Was Changbin giving you a hard time?” Hyunjin asks you and you turn your head to see him standing in the doorway of his apartment looking at you worriedly. You grin at him happily and he reciprocates the grin with one of his own sweet smiles. “I’ll beat him up for you.” He offers and you laugh happily as you excitedly make your way over to him and wrap him in a tight hug.

”No, no nothing like that. Just a bit of teasing.” You explain as you bury your face in his worn cotton t-shirt. “And I’d never ask you to do that.” You scold him softly as he grins down at you while wrapping his arms tightly around you.

”The offer still stands.” He says with a shrug before guiding you into the apartment. “Wanna get changed in your pjs first and then we’ll eat on the couch while watching a drama?” He asks when he finally lets you go so that he could close and lock the door.

”Yes please.” You sigh out happily as you slip your shoes off and go to set the bag of dinner on the kitchen island and pull out the wine bottle as well. “I bought wine from the restaurant too. Sounded like something we’d enjoy.” You tell him over your shoulder as you walk away to the bathroom so that you could go get changed.

”Oooh, this is a good one. Good choice!” Hyunjin calls out and you chuckle softly as you quickly get changed into your pjs before walking back out to find that Hyunjin had already set up dinner on the coffee table and was just pulling up a recent drama that the two of you had gotten into. “C’mere Seoltang.” He calls from his spot on the couch and you grin while rushing over to tackle him in a tight hug causing him to laugh happily at your actions. The two of you stay like that for a few quiet moments before you remember the gift you had gotten him.

”Oh! Before we start. I have a gift for you.” You say with a hint of teasing and Hyunjin looks at you with wide eyes before he grins excitedly and holds his hands out.

”Gift, please!” He calls out and you laugh softly at him before shaking your head. He gasps and then dramatically throws himself on top of you groaning loudly. “I need whatever thoughtful gift you’ve gotten or I’ll perish Seoltang.” He cries out as he throws a hand up into the air and squints his eyes. “Darkness is already closing in! I Can feel death’s cold grip on me tightening.” He dramatically cries out and you laugh loudly as you shove him playfully off you before you reach for your tote bag and pull out the wrapped gift.

Hyunjin quickly sits up from his sprawled out position as he eyes the prettily wrapped gift with eager eyes. You look down at the gift in your lap and then look up at him with a teasing grin on your face. Hyunjin leans forward with wide pleading eyes and a pout on his lips trying to get you to give him his gift. You smile softly at him and lean over to press a sweet kiss to his forehead without even thinking about it, it just naturally came to you to do that.

”What’s the magic word?” You ask him softly and Hyunjin grins widely at you as his eyelids flutter with delight at your kiss.

”I love you.” He answers immediately before cupping your face and pulling you into a deep loving kiss that makes you squeak with surprise as Hyunjin smiles through the kiss. He pulls away softly and grins widely when your mouth moves to chase his making the love he holds in his body for you swell to consume him. He then pulls you back in for another kiss and whispers the confession between each kiss he gives you.

You’re giggling happily and adoringly as you try to pull away from him so that you can give him his gift before you give up and press the present into his chest before kissing him once again.

”I love you too.” You whisper against his mouth and Hyunjin practically beams at you before he pulls away and looks down at the gift in his hands. Quickly opening it his eyes widen as surprise and adoration fills him. He looks up at you with wide love filled eyes before he grabs onto your face and pulls you in for another deep loving kiss that he doesn’t let you up from for a few breathless moments.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken

[ewyuzu]

mooncake festival with lads men 🥮🌙

a/n: late post but happy mooncake festival! wishing you all happiness, good health, and togetherness this mooncake festival. may the moonlight bring peace and joy to your heart!

- sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel and caleb x reader

sylus

the mooncake festival is alive with color and light. lanterns of every shape and size hang from strings above, casting a warm, golden glow over the streets. laughter fills the air, and you can hear the soft melody of traditional music playing in the distance. the night feels magical, but despite the excitement around you, it’s sylus’s presence beside you that holds your attention the most.

he walks quietly, his gaze sweeping over the festival, ever alert as always. but there’s a softness in the way he walks next to you, like he’s more relaxed than usual. his hand brushes yours occasionally, sending small sparks up your arm, but he doesn’t take your hand. not yet, anyway.

“you’ve been quiet tonight,” you say softly, glancing at him.

he turns his head slightly, those red eyes of his meeting yours for a brief moment. “just thinking,” he replies, his voice low and smooth.

“about what?” you ask, curious. sylus rarely shares his thoughts openly.

“about how different this is,” he admits, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “from… what i’m used to.”

you tilt your head, intrigued. “different in a good way?”

he doesn’t answer right away, but his gaze softens as he looks ahead at the glowing lanterns. “yeah,” he finally says. “in a good way.”

you walk together for a while, weaving through the crowd. despite the lively energy around you, there’s a sense of calm between you and sylus, an unspoken understanding. the two of you stop in front of a group of people dancing in the square. the music is slow, melodic, and the dancers move gracefully under the lantern light. you watch them for a moment, caught up in the beauty of it.

“do you dance?” sylus asks, breaking the silence. his voice is quiet, almost as if he’s testing the waters.

you blink, a little surprised by the question. “uh… not really,” you say, laughing nervously. “i mean, i can, but it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

he looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that makes your heart beat faster. “let’s see,” he says, holding out his hand.

your breath catches in your throat. you didn’t expect him to actually ask you to dance, especially not here, in front of all these people. but the way he’s looking at you, calm and confident, makes it impossible to refuse. you hesitantly place your hand in his, and his grip is firm but gentle, his skin warm against yours.

“sylus, i’m really not—” you start, but he cuts you off with a soft smile, the kind that makes your knees feel weak.

“i’ll lead,” he says simply, guiding you toward the quieter side of the square, away from the crowd but still under the lanterns. the music continues to play, and before you know it, sylus has placed one hand on your waist, the other still holding your hand, and he begins to move.

you follow his lead, your body unsure at first but quickly falling into rhythm with his. his movements are smooth, controlled, and it feels almost effortless dancing with him. there’s something about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you under the soft glow of the lanterns, that makes the world around you fade away. it’s just you and sylus, moving together in perfect harmony.

“you’re better than you let on,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “only because you’re leading.”

he tilts his head slightly, his red eyes never leaving yours. “maybe. or maybe you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

his words make your heart skip a beat, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. the closeness between you feels almost overwhelming now, the way his hand rests on your waist, the way his fingers are intertwined with yours. you’re not sure how much longer you can hold his gaze without completely melting.

“i didn’t expect you to dance,” you say quietly, trying to break the tension.

“neither did i,” he replies, his voice soft, almost thoughtful. “but… something about tonight feels different. lighter.”

you smile up at him, your heart swelling at the rare glimpse of vulnerability he’s showing you. “i’m glad,” you whisper.

the music slows, and so do your movements, but neither of you lets go. you’re standing so close now, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. the air between you feels charged, like something unspoken is lingering just beneath the surface.

“sylus…” you begin, but the words die on your lips when he shifts closer, his forehead almost touching yours.

“stay with me tonight,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

your heart races, and for a moment, you’re not sure if he means here, at the festival, or something deeper. but before you can respond, he pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

“just… don’t leave yet,” he adds, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

you nod, unable to speak, and he smiles—just a small, brief smile—but it’s enough to make your heart flutter.

later, the festival becomes too much. the noise, the crowds, the constant buzz of energy—it’s overwhelming. you feel it creeping up on you, that need to escape, to find some peace away from the chaos. sylus notices before you even have to say anything. he’s always so attuned to you, as if he can sense your every thought and feeling.

“want to get out of here?” he asks quietly, his voice cutting through the noise.

you nod, grateful, and without another word, he takes your hand, leading you away from the lantern-lit streets and out into the quiet countryside. the night air is cool against your skin, and soon, the sounds of the festival fade into the distance, replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle chirping of crickets.

you walk in comfortable silence until you reach a small lake, its surface smooth and still, reflecting the full moon above. sylus leads you to a large stone by the water’s edge, sitting down and gesturing for you to join him. you sit beside him, the cool grass beneath you, and breathe in the peacefulness of the night.

“this is better,” you say quietly, looking out at the moonlit lake.

“yes,” sylus agrees, his voice soft. “it is.”

he pulls a small box from his coat pocket and opens it, revealing two mooncakes. he hands one to you, and you take it with a small smile, your fingers brushing his as you do. there’s something intimate about the simple gesture, the way he thought to bring something just for the two of you.

“didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” you tease lightly, taking a bite of the mooncake.

he chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “i don’t. but i figured you might.”

you raise an eyebrow, amused. “you’re thoughtful, aren’t you?”

“only sometimes,” he says, and there’s that rare smile again, the one that makes your heart do a little flip.

you sit together in silence for a while, sharing mooncakes and watching the reflection of the moon on the lake. the air is cool, but sylus’s presence beside you is warm, comforting. at some point, you lean back, your shoulder brushing against his. he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you.

“it’s peaceful here,” you murmur, glancing over at him.

he nods, his gaze still focused on the water. “it is. i could stay here all night.”

“me too,” you whisper, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

the night stretches on, the two of you sitting side by side, saying nothing but understanding everything. in the quiet of the moonlit lake, it’s like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, and for once, everything feels simple. everything feels right.

zayne

the festival is alive with vibrant colors, lanterns glowing in every direction, casting soft hues of red, gold, and orange across the crowded streets. laughter and chatter fill the air, but zayne walks beside you, quieter than usual. his gaze shifts around, observing the details with a thoughtful expression.

“there’s something i want to show you,” he says, his voice low but steady. without another word, he gently takes your hand, leading you through the crowd. your pulse quickens, feeling the warmth of his hand, and for a moment, the noise of the festival seems to fade away.

he brings you to a quieter part of the festival, where people are writing wishes on lanterns. they carefully attach their slips of paper to the lanterns, watching them drift upward, joining the sea of glowing lights floating towards the sky.

zayne hands you a small piece of paper and a pen. “it’s tradition to write down your wishes for the future,” he explains, his gaze fixed on the lanterns above. “then you let it go.”

you glance at the paper in your hand, the smooth texture between your fingers feeling heavier than it should. “do you believe in these kinds of things?” you ask, curious.

zayne shrugs, though there’s a softness in his eyes. “i don’t know if wishes come true this way, but… maybe it’s more about letting go. letting the universe know what you want.”

you watch him for a moment, his expression unreadable. slowly, you write your wish down, feeling the weight of the words settle in your chest. you glance at him, wondering if he’s already written his wish.

he hesitates, his pen poised over the paper. his eyes flicker towards you briefly before returning to his blank slip. “i’m not very good at this,” he murmurs, his voice almost too soft to hear.

you smile gently, nudging him with your elbow. “it doesn’t have to be perfect. just write whatever comes to mind.”

he lets out a quiet breath, and you see his hand move, writing something down with careful strokes. when he finishes, his fingers linger over the paper for a moment longer before he folds it and attaches it to his lantern.

you both stand there, holding your lanterns in your hands, the soft glow illuminating your faces. “ready?” you ask, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

zayne glances at you, something unreadable in his gaze. “yeah. ready.”

you release your lanterns at the same time, watching them drift into the sky, their light growing smaller as they join the others. there’s a quiet moment between you, the festival noise a distant hum in the background, as you both watch the lanterns disappear.

after a long pause, zayne breaks the silence. “what did you wish for?” he asks, his tone casual, but there’s a hint of curiosity behind his words.

you smile, shaking your head. “i’m not telling. that ruins the wish, doesn’t it?”

he chuckles softly, a rare sound that makes your heart skip. “fair enough.”

you tilt your head, looking at him thoughtfully. “what about you? what did you wish for?”

his eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, he hesitates. then, a small smile tugs at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “i think i’ll keep that one to myself,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

but the way he looks at you, the intensity in his gaze, tells you everything you need to know.

the night grows quieter as the festival winds down, but the sky above still dances with bursts of color from the fireworks. zayne leads you away from the busy streets, toward a quieter spot by the lake. the soft lapping of the water against the shore is a soothing contrast to the earlier excitement.

you sit down on a bench together, the cool night air brushing against your skin. the lanterns hanging from the trees reflect off the water, casting a soft glow around the two of you. zayne leans back, his arms resting casually behind him, eyes fixed on the sky.

“it’s peaceful here,” he says, his voice low, almost as if he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

you nod, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. there’s a calmness in his posture, but his gaze is distant, as if his mind is elsewhere. “you’ve been quiet tonight,” you say gently, hoping to draw him out.

he turns his head slightly, looking at you. “just… thinking,” he admits, his tone softer than usual. “about things. about the future.”

you tilt your head, watching him carefully. “what about the future?”

he’s silent for a moment, his gaze drifting back to the water. “sometimes, i wonder if i’m doing the right thing. if the path i’m on is leading where i want to go. or if i’m just…” he trails off, shaking his head. “i don’t know.”

you reach out, placing a hand on his arm, your touch gentle. “you don’t have to have all the answers right now, zayne.”

he lets out a quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at your touch. “it’s just… when i’m around you, i feel like maybe things could be different. better.”

your heart skips a beat at his words, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard. “you make things better too, you know,” you say softly, your thumb brushing against his arm in a comforting gesture.

he turns to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “you really think that?”

you nod, meeting his gaze. “i know it.”

there’s a long pause, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as the fireworks continue to light up the sky. the colors reflect off the water, casting soft hues across his face, making him look almost ethereal in the moonlight.

without warning, zayne reaches out, his hand covering yours. his touch is warm, steady, and the simple gesture makes your breath hitch. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his fingers curl around yours, the gentle pressure of his hand, speaks volumes.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the moment is too fragile for louder words.

you smile, your heart swelling with an emotion you can’t quite name. “for what?”

he doesn’t look away from you, his gaze steady, almost intense. “for being here. for… everything.”

the night stretches on, the sounds of the festival fading into the background. and as you sit there, hand in hand, under the glow of the moon and the lanterns, you realize that sometimes, the quietest moments say the most.

xavier

the festival is in full swing, the streets alive with the vibrant colors of lanterns and the buzz of excited festival-goers. as you and xavier weave through the crowded pathways, he stays close, his presence steady beside you. the laughter and chatter of the crowd seem overwhelming, and you can’t help but feel a bit disoriented.

“stick close,” xavier says, his voice low but firm as he gently guides you through the throngs of people. his hand finds its way to your lower back, a reassuring touch that keeps you close to him.

you glance up at him, noticing how focused he is on making sure you’re safe. “thanks for staying so close,” you say, feeling a mix of relief and warmth at his protective gesture.

he meets your gaze with a soft smile. “it’s my job to look out for you,” he replies, his eyes reflecting the glow of the lanterns. “especially in a crowd like this. you never know what could happen.”

as you continue walking, you can feel the occasional bump from other festival-goers. each time, xavier’s grip on your back tightens slightly, his body subtly shielding you from any potential collisions.

“you’re really good at this,” you comment, trying to lighten the mood. “you could be a professional crowd navigator.”

he chuckles softly, a sound that feels warm and comforting. “well, i’ve had some practice. but honestly, it’s not about navigating crowds. it’s about making sure you’re okay.”

you feel a flutter in your chest at his words. “i’m fine, really. but it’s nice to have you looking out for me.”

xavier’s smile softens, and he leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “i wouldn’t have it any other way. i care about you too much to let anything happen.”

just then, someone jostles you, causing you to stumble slightly. before you can react, xavier has you firmly pressed against his side, his arm around you in a protective embrace.

“careful there,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing presence in your ear. “it’s easy to get bumped around in these crowds.”

you look up at him, noticing how his expression is a blend of concern and calm. “i guess it’s a good thing you’re here.”

he nods, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that makes your heart race. “i’m always here, as long as you need me.”

you walk together, the crowd slowly thinning out as you approach a quieter area. xavier’s grip on your back remains steady, a comforting reminder of his presence. when you finally reach a less crowded spot, you both stop, taking a deep breath and enjoying the calmer surroundings.

“we made it through,” you say, glancing around at the more peaceful scene.

“we did,” xavier agrees, his hand lingering on your back before he slowly pulls away. “and i’m glad i could be here with you.”

you smile at him, feeling a deep sense of appreciation for his care. “thanks for looking out for me.”

xavier’s smile grows, a genuine, warm expression. “anytime.”

the festival has wound down, and the streets are quieter now, the earlier buzz replaced by a gentle calm. xavier leads you to a secluded corner away from the main crowd, where the soft light of the lanterns still casts a gentle glow. the air is crisp, and you feel a sense of tranquility settling over you.

xavier pulls out a mooncake from a small bag he’s been carrying. “i thought we could have a little quiet moment away from the hustle,” he says, handing you the mooncake with a grin.

you accept it with a smile, feeling the warmth of his gesture. “that sounds perfect.”

as you both sit on a nearby bench, xavier takes out another mooncake and breaks it in half, offering you the larger piece. “here, you take the bigger half. it’s only fair.”

you laugh softly, taking the mooncake from him. “you’re too kind. but i insist you have the bigger piece.”

he shakes his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “i’m fine. besides, i’m more interested in sharing the moment with you.”

you both take a bite, savoring the sweet taste of the mooncake. the silence between you is comfortable, the occasional sound of distant laughter and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze the only interruptions.

“it’s nice out here,” you say after a moment, breaking the silence. “it feels peaceful.”

xavier nods, his gaze fixed on the moonlit sky. “yeah, it is. sometimes, it’s good to step away from the crowd and just enjoy the quiet.”

you glance at him, noticing how relaxed he looks. “do you come here often?”

“not as much as i’d like,” he admits. “but whenever i need a break from everything, this is where i come. it’s a good place to think.”

you nod, understanding. “what do you usually think about?”

xavier looks thoughtful for a moment before answering. “a lot of things. my work, my goals… and sometimes, just how nice it is to be in a moment like this.”

you smile, touched by his openness. “i’m glad we’re sharing this moment together.”

he turns to you, his expression softening. “me too. it’s special to me.”

you finish your mooncake, feeling a sense of contentment. “what about you? what’s your favorite part of the festival?”

xavier takes a sip from his cup of tea, thinking for a moment. “i think it’s the way people come together, sharing these traditions. it reminds me of what’s important.”

you nod in agreement, feeling the connection between you deepen. “i feel that too. it’s nice to be reminded of the simple things.”

xavier’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the world around you fades away. “yeah. and it’s nice to share those moments with someone who understands.”

you smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “i’m really glad we’re here together.”

xavier reaches out, his hand brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering touch. “so am i.”

the night continues, the festival lights now distant but the feeling of togetherness strong between you. as you sit there, sharing a quiet moment with xavier, you realize how much more meaningful these simple times can be.

rafayel

as the mooncake festival fills the streets with glowing lanterns and soft laughter, rafayel stands beside you, his usual calm demeanor present, but there’s something different in his eyes tonight. a quiet intensity, like he's carrying a secret.

“let’s step away for a moment,” he says, his voice soft yet certain. he gently takes your hand, guiding you through the crowd, away from the noise, until you find a quiet corner near a beautiful lantern display. the warm, flickering light casts soft shadows across his face, highlighting the small, subtle smile playing at his lips.

“i have something for you,” he finally says, pulling a small, wrapped box from the inner pocket of his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours, almost nervously, before he holds it out to you. “i thought... it might be fitting for tonight.”

you take the gift from him, fingers brushing against his briefly, and unwrap it slowly, savoring the moment. inside is a delicately crafted lantern, but not just any lantern. carved into its surface is a symbol—one you recognize from lemurian culture, something ancient and meaningful.

“rafayel… it’s beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the symbol with your fingers. “did you have this made?”

he nods, his gaze steady but filled with something deeper, something unspoken. “it’s a symbol of protection,” he explains quietly. “i wanted to give you something that would... keep you safe. especially tonight.”

his words are understated, but the weight of them presses gently against your heart. he’s never been one for grand gestures or loud proclamations. this, however, feels more intimate than any words could express.

“thank you,” you say softly, looking up at him. “it means more than you know.”

rafayel looks down for a moment, almost shy, before meeting your gaze again. “i don’t usually give gifts,” he admits, a hint of awkwardness in his tone, “but i wanted you to have something... special.”

you smile, feeling the warmth between you both, not just from the lanterns around but from the quiet affection that rafayel often keeps hidden. you step closer, feeling the moment stretch between you, unspoken but deeply felt.

“i’ll treasure it,” you promise, holding the lantern close. rafayel gives a soft nod, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips, as the night deepens, the festival around you a soft backdrop to the intimacy you share.

later in the evening, after wandering through the festival and enjoying the sights, rafayel pauses by a quiet area where lanterns hang low, casting a golden glow on the cobblestone path. he looks at you with a thoughtful expression.

“sit for me,” he says, pulling a small sketchpad and a few brushes from his bag. “i want to capture you... right now, under the light.”

you chuckle, a little shy but flattered. “right here? now?”

he nods, already setting up his canvas. “the lighting is perfect. it’ll only take a few minutes.”

you settle onto a nearby bench, feeling the soft warmth of the lanterns overhead. rafayel’s focus sharpens as he begins to work, his hands moving with precision. the strokes of his brush are deliberate, and you can tell he’s completely lost in the moment, immersed in the way the light plays across your features.

“you’re really serious about this, huh?” you tease lightly, but there’s admiration in your voice.

“i’m always serious when it comes to my art,” he replies without looking up, though there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. “and when it comes to you.”

your heart flutters at his words, but before you can respond, something soft brushes against your legs. you glance down to see a small, fluffy cat weaving its way around your ankles. you stifle a laugh, knowing rafayel’s well-known fear of cats.

the cat, curious and bold, leaps up onto the edge of rafayel’s canvas, knocking his brush from his hand. he freezes, his eyes wide in alarm, completely thrown off by the unexpected intruder.

“oh no... a monster...” he mutters, his voice tense, as he tries to inch away from the cat without making any sudden movements.

you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. “rafayel, it’s just a cat!” you giggle, standing up to shoo the cat away. “it’s not going to hurt you.”

“i know that,” he says defensively, though his body remains stiff. “it’s just... i don’t particularly like them.”

the cat, seemingly sensing his discomfort, decides to settle right on top of his palette, smudging the paint in the process. rafayel’s expression is a mix of frustration and panic, but you can’t help but find it endearing.

“you’re going to have to include the cat in the painting now,” you tease, trying to gently lift the cat away, but it stubbornly remains on the palette, its tail flicking.

rafayel sighs, shaking his head. “i suppose i don’t have much of a choice, do i?” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up despite himself.

“come on, pose with it,” he adds, his tone lighter now. “let’s make this a proper portrait.”

you sit back down, this time with the cat in your lap, and strike a playful pose. rafayel, still a little uneasy, starts painting again, but the moment has turned softer, funnier. you talk while he paints, teasing him about his fear, and he plays along, opening up more than usual as the night drifts on.

“you know,” he says quietly after a while, “i’ve never painted anyone like this before.”

“like what?” you ask, curious.

“someone who can make me forget everything else,” he murmurs, his eyes soft as they meet yours. “even the things i’m afraid of.”

the intimacy in his words, in the way he looks at you, warms you more than the lanterns surrounding you ever could. and as you sit there, cat in your lap, rafayel painting your portrait under the moonlight, it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, sharing a moment that’s as tender as it is unforgettable.

caleb

the soft glow of lanterns hangs in the air, the sky above skyhaven illuminated by the full moon. you and caleb sit side by side on a low bench, surrounded by the bustling energy of the mooncake festival. despite the crowd, it feels like it’s just the two of you, tucked away from the noise, with a plate of mooncakes resting between you.

caleb nudges the plate a little closer to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “think you can catch it if i toss it to you?” he asks, already floating a mooncake slightly off the plate with his telekinesis.

you laugh, shaking your head. “you’re just going to make it hover out of my reach like last time, aren’t you?”

“i promise i’ll be nice this time,” he says with a playful grin, though you’re not entirely convinced. the mooncake hovers in front of you for a moment, just close enough to touch, before it floats upward, just a little higher. you make a grab for it, but it drifts back, teasing you.

“caleb!” you protest, though you can’t help but laugh. “you’re cheating again!”

he chuckles, watching you try again, letting you get just close enough to almost catch it before pulling it back once more. “what, you didn’t think i’d make it easy, did you?” he teases, his smile wide and warm.

you roll your eyes, standing up this time to get a better angle. “you’re impossible, you know that?” you say, taking a playful swipe at the mooncake. this time, he lets it drift into your hands, your fingers brushing against its soft surface.

“there, see? you won,” caleb says, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “but i still had fun.”

you hold the mooncake triumphantly, though the look on his face tells you he let you win on purpose. you sit back down beside him, bumping his shoulder lightly. “you’re lucky i’m a good sport.”

as you take a bite of the mooncake, caleb shifts slightly, his hand reaching into his jacket pocket. you watch him curiously as he pulls out a small box, his expression softening. he opens it slowly, revealing a delicate necklace with a crescent moon pendant, its silver surface glinting in the lantern light.

“what’s this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“it’s for you,” caleb says quietly, lifting the necklace out of the box with his telekinesis. it hovers between you for a moment, the moon-shaped pendant catching the light in a way that makes it seem to glow. “i saw it and thought of you.”

you can feel your heart skip a beat as the necklace floats gently toward you, stopping just above your chest. caleb’s gaze softens as he watches you, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more sincere, more intimate.

“caleb, it’s beautiful,” you whisper, your fingers brushing the pendant as it hovers in front of you. “you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to,” he interrupts softly, his voice low. “the moon... it always reminds me of the time we spent together, back in linkon city. this festival... it’s special to me, because you’re here.”

he uses his telekinesis to carefully place the necklace around your neck, the cool metal of the pendant settling just above your collarbone. the gesture is tender, almost too intimate, and you find yourself leaning a little closer to him, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.

“you’re always showing off,” you say, teasing him gently, though there’s no malice in your tone. “but... i really love it. thank you, caleb.”

his lips twitch into a small smile, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. the quiet between you feels natural, comfortable. the lanterns above flicker softly in the evening breeze, casting a gentle glow over the two of you.

“you know,” caleb says after a while, “i always liked teasing you back then. it was the only way i knew to get your attention.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “some things never change.”

he grins, leaning back slightly as his hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. the touch lingers for just a second longer than necessary, making your heart race.

“i guess some things don’t,” he murmurs, his voice almost lost in the sounds of the festival around you. “but i’m glad we have moments like this now. i wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

you smile at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “neither would i.”

as the night stretches on, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the moon shining brightly above you, the delicate weight of the necklace against your skin a constant reminder of the quiet, unspoken bond between you and caleb.

[idyllcy]

you make me wanna make ya fall in love

word count: 1.97k || EMT Leon || slightly ooc + flirting (HIPAA violation)

summary: the 2000s called, they want their romcom plot back

"I'm actually gonna pass out." You sit on the couch, blinking rapidly as your head goes light.

"I called 911 already, so hang in there, alright?!" Ashley stays connected to the call, holding you up as you groan, stomach caving in on itself and your eyes giving out. Oh, god, is this how you die? You focus on breathing through your mouth, ignoring the way Ashley's voice is reduced to ringing and the way you're sweating buckets. Ew. Maybe you should've— oh. this is because you didn't eat, huh? It is 8pm. Yeah, this one's on you. Maybe the heavens will be nice and let a nice hot EMT show up to your door and save your ass— yeah, tough luck.

You can't believe you're about to pass out and all you can think about is men. You're literally failing the Bechdel test. What are you? Some poor girl in a teenage romcom? You're not even a teenager.

You close your eyes for some shut-eye, disrupted when you're shaken awake, blinking slowly as you catch sight of Ashley first, holding her chest in relief when you stare at her.

Then, you notice him—

Beautiful blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, arms hard as a rock, you might've just died and landed in heaven. Are you in heaven? Surely you must be. This man looks so gorgeous it's incredible. You have to be in heaven right now. You blink at him with doe-eyes, confusion visible on your face. Ashley's here, so you're not in heaven. Did you just happen to have a super hot EMT show up to your door like you had been imagining? Oh, god, are you... psychic? This is a revelation! This is insane! You have to—

No, seriously. You're not in a romcom. Can the narrator stop describing it like it's some sort of a romcom? The 2000s called, they want their cheesy romcom plotline back.

"Fucking hell." You groan, shifting against the wall. "How long was I out?"

"Ten minutes." The man reads. "You're just low in blood sugar. We have some orange juice, would you like that?"

"Yeah. Sure." You furrow your brows. "God, wow, count on my body to shut down without sugar."

"It happens." He thanks his coworker for the glass, holding it to your lips. "Tilt, please."

You tilt your head back slightly to press your lips to the glass, drinking it as you lean back to lick your lips, offering to take the glass from him as your arms start cooperating. "I can do it."

"Best not to." He nods. "Just finish the glass. We'll stay until your blood sugar rises."

"Isn't it almost immediate?"

"Takes around 15 minutes."

You raise a brow at Ashley, who shakes her head, and you finish the rest of the glass, watching as Leon checks your stats.

"How often does this happen..." You glance at his nameplate. "Leon?"

"More often than you'd think." He hums, tilting his head at you as Ashley talks to the other worker about your insurance. "Let me guess, you forgot to eat?"

"Yeah. My body stops feeling hunger after a certain point." You hum. "It's not super good, huh?"

"Yeah. Try to have some candy or juice throughout the day. It helps." He nods. "College student life, huh?"

You tilt your head. "How old are you?"

"Been a few years since school." He nods. "Your blood sugar's back to normal, sugar."

You hold your hand over your mouth, raising a brow at him. "That definitely breaks some sort of work protocol."

He smiles, sneaking you a candy from his pocket with a wink.

Huh. Hard caramel.

"Are you alright?" Ashley rests a hand on your shoulder, and you give her a thumbs up.

"All good." You lean against the wall to get up. "I should eat, though."

Leon grabs your arm, helping you up. "Definitely. Have something high in sugar or carbs."

"Will do, Leon." You nod. "Wishing you an uneventful work day. May no emergency be absolutely awful."

"Thank you. Those days are the best."

You send them off as Ashley starts nagging about not eating, and you pout as you lock eyes with her, door locked, ambulance gone.

"Yeah, he was hot."

"YEAH, HE WAS."

You forget about him, though. You start popping candy throughout the day, same brand as the one Leon had given you, your lips curled upwards sweetly when it hits your tongue. It's not food, but at least you won't be passing out because your blood sugar's low again.

You're also never going to see him again, so it's fine if you carry a piece of him around with you.

Except you do. You see him at the EMT booth at a local concert, Ashley in your arms because there's something wrong with her this time. (You really ought to start taking care of yourselves, huh?)

"Ah, sugar." Leon smiles. "Friend this time?"

"Yes." You set her down as he checks up on her. "Is she okay?"

"Seems fine. Just needs some water. Dehydration. How long you been out there?"

"Since morning." You glance at the venue. "Didn't eat either, though I've been having candy."

"That's not good for you, sugar." He hands Ashley a bottle of water, sending her off with you. "Go grab some food."

You watch as he fishes out a twenty from his pocket, blinking as he holds it out to you.

"I can't take that from you, sir."

"Nonsense. Concert food is expensive. It's on me." He smiles.

"You're still breaking workplace rules, I see." You rummage through your pockets, taking Leon's hand as you place a caramel in his hand. "As a thank you."

"I'm sure it'll be delicious later." He smiles. "Now, off you go. We've got quite a line."

"Wouldn't dream of holding you up, Leon." You lead Ashley to the side by the crowds, waiting for her to grab a drink before pulling her to grab something to eat. You pay for her food first, setting Ashley with the rest of your friends before waving to get something of your own.

"Get his number!" She manages to yell as you disappear into the crowd.

Now that's breaking protocol.

Yet, you use the remainder of Leon's money to get him something to eat, waiting for the line to dissipate slightly before handing him a drink.

"For me?"

"It's got... liquid IV in it." You scrunch your nose. "Hopefully that's not a scam."

"Not completely." He takes it from you, pinching at the straw to mix it. "Did you eat?"

"I was about to."

He glances at his coworker and then the intermission.

"That'd be bad, Kennedy." The woman next to him warns.

Leon sighs. "Have fun eating."

"Thank you again." You grin.

"Ah, and for dessert." He reaches for your hand, placing another candy in it. "A hard caramel."

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for caramels, Leon." You raise a brow, taking two steps back before throwing a wave his way. "I'll pay you back later!"

You grab dinner with the rest of your friends, waving bye to them when they leave to continue, Ashley making sure that you've got candy on you before she's gone. You have one final singer that you'd like to see before you leave the event. You're glad you live close to the venue. You could probably walk back or uber if you were really desperate. Though, you wonder just how long the EMT are staying.

You find yourself mixed into the crowd as you wait, jumping when your favorite artist finally appears, cheering with everyone else. You don't blame the rest of them for retiring early. You're the only one who listens to this artist anyway. The setlist has you jumping, cheering at the live vocals, yelling your heart out with the lyrics, and when the set finishes, the sun's almost down. It'd be smart of you to head out at this point.

You make a turn to head back, popping the caramel in your mouth, stopping in your tracks when a man blocks your way.

"Where ya off to, sweetheart?"

"...Oh, you know." You smile, nodding to excuse yourself.

"Need a ride home?"

"Truly, it's alright—"

"I insist."

You wrack your brain for a solution, yelping when you feel hands on your waist instead, pulling you backwards. Your back is flush against someone's chest, smile on his lips as you blink. Sure hope it's not some other creep.

"Hey, you good bro? Had one too many to drink? I suggest the EMT tent."

You let out a sigh in relief, watching as the guy notices the uniform and scrambles.

"Thank you." You turn around, smile on your lips as Leon nods.

"You're just too lovely, sugar. Gotta keep those flies off of ya." He nods. "You feeling alright?"

You nod.

"Gone all quiet on me?" He tilts his head. "Alright, up you go."

You yelp as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you out of the crowd. He presses his forehead to yours to check your temperature, looking to the side when you don't react at all.

"You good?"

"I'm fine, Leon. You didn't need to." You let him take your vitals, the tent practically empty now that the concert was finishing up. His coworker nods at him and heads out, and leaves you with Leon. That's gotta be illegal in some way. There is no way a law is not being broken right there. Aren't they both supposed to get off at the same time? Is that?? legal? Is their shift over?

"You seem fine." He kneels at your chair, fingers on your wrist as he takes your heartbeat. "Heart's a little fast, though."

"Yeah?" You mumble. You're sure you look embarrassed beyond belief right now, so you opt for sucking on the caramel in your mouth.

You're not surprised he takes notice. "Actually, I think my head's spinning just a little. Must be the lack of sugar. You got any on you?"

"Well, I kind of ate my last one..." You mumble, sticking your tongue out with the candy.

"I don't mind."

"Yeah?" You suck on the candy.

"Of course not, sugar." He leans in, tilting his head. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, who am I to say no?"

You let him kiss you, tongue with the caramel offered to him, sugar on your lips and his from it, though you would argue that the only reason the candy seemed to taste so good was because of him. You tilt your head to angle better, Leon's hands finding yours on the chair, pushing himself to you with a hum in his throat, tongue in your mouth as he steals the caramel from you. You don't mind. You might've just tasted a slice of heaven of your own.

You pant, tongue stuck out and mouth open as Leon shows you the candy on his tongue, smiling.

"You got a ride home, sugar?"

"You gonna kidnap me?" You raise a brow, licking your lips for whatever remnant of him is left on you.

"Not with this pretty lady, no." He smiles.

"Breaking work protocol again, I see."

"I'm off duty." He glances to the side as the new shift arrives, and Leon offers a hand to help you up. "Don't worry, sugar, you can pass out on my car. I've got all the candy you could want."

"Hm..." You tap your chin, taking his hand as he pulls you with him, not letting go.

"Hm what?"

"How about we grab brunch sometimes nearby? Just to make sure my sugar levels don't drop from forgetting to eat?" You tilt your head, watching as Leon tilts his head back to you.

"Oh, sugar. You don't even need to ask."

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: lil bit of angst, choso is slowly becoming our man, sukuna's a dick, suggestive themes A/N: not gonna lie, I'm not entirely sure I like this part (,,>﹏<,,) maybe it's just cause I know eventually the truth has to come out and we're getting there but if you guys like it that's what matters! sukuna is gonna keep that stick up his ass for a while longer, but choso is coming through in the meantime. (｡- .•) index part eight | part ten

part nine word count: 3,331

“all I wanted to do today was enjoy the hike, go for a swim, and then come back to roast marshmallows,” you pouted, leaning heavily against the cool kitchen countertop. the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Megumi and Nobara sipped their mugs, listening with amusement to your morning complaints.

“then all of a sudden, I hear this agitating, grating voice,” you continued, your annoyance building.

“if there’s no coffee left, I might just kill someone.” that voice sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. Sukuna appeared in the doorway, looking like a creature dragged straight from the depths of hell.

“morning, Sukuna! did you not get enough beauty rest on the couch, or is that just your usual face?” Nobara teased with a grin, bravely challenging the morning grump. but you knew better; the morning version of Sukuna was not to be trifled with.

his eyes snapped toward her, a dark glint flickering in his crimson irises. that look usually spelled instant death, but luckily for Nobara, he merely grumbled something incoherent before snatching the coffee pot and pouring himself a generous mug.

“okay, everyone ready to go?” Yuji’s cheerful voice broke the tension as he strolled into the kitchen. he halted abruptly in the doorway, sensing the charged atmosphere. “Sukuna, are you coming too?”

Sukuna shrugged and nodded, an almost lazy gesture. “yep, figured you guys would need some muscle if a bear or something shows up to eat you.”

you rolled your eyes, already anticipating how his presence would cast a shadow over your fun and keep you on edge throughout the day. just as you considered feigning illness to avoid the trip, a warm hand settled on your shoulder.

turning to see Choso, you were greeted by his soft smile, which provided a momentary distraction from the tension.

“got everything you need?” he asked, his voice calm and reassuring. just then, a loud clatter echoed as Sukuna, irritated, dropped his mug into the sink, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

“yeah, I’ve got everything in my backpack,” you replied, focusing back on Choso. without hesitation, he reached down, lifting your bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“you don’t have to carry it; I can do it,” you protested, trying to reclaim some independence.

Choso shook his head firmly, a determined look in his eyes as he gripped the bag’s strap. “no biggie, I’ve got it covered.”

“well isn’t that just so peachy of you, Choso.” Sukuna bit out from his spot, watching the scene unfold before him as his blood began to boil. “you know that’s not gonna get you in her pants.”

at his last sentence spoken, your entire body tensed. what the hell was he saying? no, surely he didn’t mean to allude to… no way. if he did, Choso didn’t seem to catch on, only ignoring Sukuna’s remark and taking your hand before pulling you from your seat.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

as the group emerged from the cabin, Yuji led the way with Megumi at his side, their laughter mingling with the fresh morning air. you strolled alongside Nobara, her energy infectious as you both matched each other’s pace. Choso chose to position himself behind you, his presence steady and reassuring, while Sukuna lingered at the back, the weight of his gaze making you acutely aware of his watchful eyes. you couldn't tell if it was Sukuna’s intensity that made you feel so exposed, but it sent an unmistakable chill down your spine.

“hey, I’ve got a question for you,” Nobara suddenly said, breaking the comfortable rhythm of your conversation. you had been chatting to distract yourselves from the uphill trek. “I know I can’t stand Sukuna, and neither can Megumi… but what’s really eating at you?”

you swallowed hard, a mix of needing breath and feeling a surge of nerves. “living with him has shown me he’s a bigger jerk than I expected,” you replied, skirting the edges of the truth without quite lying.

Nobara’s expression sharpened. “I’ve had my suspicions ever since you moved in. even before, he looked at you like you were just a piece of meat.” she met your gaze, and you offered a weak shrug, not wanting to dive deeper into the topic. “maybe I’m overreacting, but he’s been acting especially strange around you lately.”

“who knows? maybe he’s just dealing with some pent-up issues,” you said, hoping to steer the conversation away from uncomfortable territory.

to your surprise, Nobara reached out and intertwined her fingers with yours, her grip warm and reassuring. “you know, Yuji told us about… what happened to you.”

your heart sank at the thought of your pink-haired friend sharing your secret. “oh, he did?”

“mhm,” Nobara nodded, her tone shifting to something more serious. “if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

a wave of warmth washed over you at her kind offer. “thanks, I really appreciate it,” you replied, genuinely touched.

Nobara paused, her brows furrowing as if searching for the right words. you held your breath, silently praying she wouldn’t put the pieces together.

“has Sukuna… done something to you?” her question hit you like a blow, the air leaving your lungs in a rush.

fortunately, just as you were about to respond, Yuji called out from ahead, “we’re here!” his cheerful shout broke the tension, and both you and Nobara turned to see the stunning view before you.

it was breathtaking. a sprawling forest alive with vibrant colors and the sounds of chirping birds, framed by an almost otherworldly white mountain rising in the distance. below lay a sparkling lake that looked like it had been plucked straight from a painting.

“first one to the water is a rotten egg!” Yuji exclaimed, and without hesitation, Nobara tugged you along, her grip firm as she pulled you down a gentle slope, chasing after Megumi and Yuji. you were worried about stumbling or spraining an ankle but somehow managed to keep pace with her through the thick underbrush.

once the four of you reached the water’s edge, Yuji glanced back, impatiently waiting for Choso and Sukuna to catch up. Choso looked mildly relieved to see everyone safe, while Sukuna trailed behind, his expression a blend of irritation and indifference, as if the world had no right to intrude on his mood.

“everyone wore their swimsuits, right?” Megumi asked, already yanking off his shirt as Yuji followed suit, eager to dive in. you couldn’t help but envy the ease with which the guys could wear their swimsuits as shorts.

“on it, boss!” Nobara replied, finally releasing your hand so you could change out of your clothes. you were grateful you’d opted to wear your swimsuit underneath; the thought of trying to change in the dense brush surrounding you was daunting.

once you’d shed your shirt and shorts, you stood at the water's edge, watching as Megumi and Yuji splashed into the calm lake. your gaze shifted to Choso, who stood nearby with his hands on his hips, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he stole glances at you.

“look at that, you’ve got him flustered,” Sukuna remarked from behind you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“what the hell is your problem?” you snapped, turning to confront him directly.

“whoa, calm down,” Sukuna laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “looks like someone needs to cool off.”

“Sukuna, don’t—” Choso began, sensing trouble, but before he could finish, Sukuna lunged at you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and effortlessly hoisted you over his shoulder.

“Sukuna! put me down!” you shouted, struggling against his hold, but he was already sprinting toward the water, dragging you along for the ride.

“time to go for a swim!” he declared, his tone gleeful.

the shock of icy water enveloped you as he leaped in, fully submerging you. when Sukuna finally released his grip, you kicked your way to the surface, sputtering and gasping for air. as soon as you broke through, Nobara was by your side, concern etched on her face.

“what the fuck?” Nobara hissed at Sukuna as she helped push your damp hair from your face.

“ah, lighten up! I was just helping her cool off,” Sukuna shrugged off her concern, rolling his eyes at what he deemed theatrics.

you shot him a glare as icy as the water around you, but you couldn’t shake the warmth lingering on your skin where his hands had just been—close to the same spots where bruises had healed not long ago.

“don’t you ever—ever—touch me like that again,” you growled, your voice low and intense. for a fleeting moment, you caught a flicker of hurt in Sukuna’s expression before he masked it with his usual smugness.

meanwhile, Choso was wading through the water, concern etched across his face as he approached you. he nudged Sukuna aside, determined to reach you as you stood shoulder-deep in the lake.

“are you okay? did you get any water in your lungs?” Choso asked anxiously, his hand gently resting on your arm beneath the surface.

“I’m fine,” you replied, finally tearing your gaze away from Sukuna to meet Choso’s worried eyes. “just didn’t hold my breath soon enough.”

the rest of the outing unfolded as you had expected. every time you began to enjoy yourself with your friends, Sukuna would swim over and ruin the moment. it was one thing when Yuji playfully dunked you, but the moment you spotted Sukuna approaching, you instinctively swam closer to Nobara or Megumi.

Choso chose to sit on the rocks, content to watch the chaos unfold, but deep down, he felt it gave him a better vantage point to keep an eye on both you and Sukuna. he couldn’t help but feel a visceral sting every time Sukuna got close to you, and after seeing your reaction to being touched by him Choso felt an anger bubbling inside of him.

it was clear that Sukuna was making you uncomfortable, but Choso couldn’t quite grasp why. sure, you had always seemed a little uneasy with his remarks, but you typically shot back with your usual wit, if not a sharper retort. so why were you suddenly shrinking away from him, your confidence seemingly slipping through your fingers?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

after a mostly silent walk back to the cabin, Choso observed as you disappeared into your shell, that familiar unsettling feeling creeping back into his gut. dinner was a quiet affair for you; you participated only half-heartedly, your eyes lighting up briefly when Megumi and Yuji stepped outside to start a fire.

once they were gone, you found solace on the porch, relishing the quiet that enveloped you. a cold drink rested in your hands, and you took several too-big gulps, hoping that it would help settle your frayed nerves. the air was fresh and calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside you.

from around the corner, you could hear Yuji and Megumi exchanging flirty banter as they gathered firewood. their laughter made your heart swell with happiness, but it also ached with longing. you had wanted that joy for yourself—it was why you had played along with Sukuna’s teasing and advances. had it all really been for nothing but pain?

“hey, you seem quiet tonight,” Choso’s voice broke through your thoughts, making you jump slightly. you turned to see him leaning against the frame of the sliding door, arms crossed and a concerned look on his face. he had been standing there for a while, silently watching you.

once you acknowledged his presence, he shut the door behind him and moved to sit in the chair next to you, creating a small, comforting space.

“guess I’m just tired from the hike and swimming,” you replied, but deep down you knew Choso could see through your half-truths. he had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book.

he leaned in slightly, his fingertip gently tapping your temple, prompting you to look at him with a puzzled expression. he smiled warmly, his eyes searching yours. “tell me what’s going on in there,” he urged softly, his tone inviting you to open up.

“I guess…” you trailed off, searching for the right words to avoid revealing the real reason for your distress. “it seems like Yuji and Megumi are getting closer, in the best way possible, and I just… I want that. I want someone to look at me like that.”

as you peeked around the corner, your heart warmed at the sight of Yuji’s smile growing wider with every word that spilled from Megumi’s lips. Choso sat beside you, his gaze steady and observant, quietly taking in your reactions.

you hadn’t noticed how Choso looked at you—how his eyes held a depth of understanding and warmth that seemed to radiate whenever you spoke about your feelings. he was aware of your crush on Sukuna; it was something you hadn’t concealed particularly well over the years. in your moments of longing, you had overlooked the way Choso’s admiration glimmered beneath the surface, waiting for you to notice.

“you’ll find it,” Choso said, his voice soft and reassuring. you turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat as his intense gaze seemed to pierce straight through you, laying your soul bare. butterflies erupted in your stomach, but you quickly dismissed the thought—surely, that wasn’t what he meant.

“maybe,” you whispered, still trying to absorb the moment. you had been foolish enough to fall for one brother; the idea of risking your heart again felt ridiculous. right?

Choso’s fingers brushed against yours, resting on the arm of the chair, and a warm spark shot through both of you at the gentle contact. were you really that blind to the feelings around you?

just as you were about to speak, to finally voice the thoughts swirling in your mind, the sliding door swung open with a loud bang, startling you and causing you to jump in your seat. a chuckle from behind you made your heart drop.

“well, isn’t this just sweet?” Sukuna snickered, his mouth curving into a tight smirk.

“shouldn’t you be off somewhere scaring children?” Choso snapped, rolling his eyes at the intrusion. he couldn’t help but feel a surge of irritation. watching you retreat into yourself in Sukuna’s presence made him mentally curse the other man for making you feel that way.

“seems like the only person I’m scaring is y/n.” Sukuna responded with a tone equally as bitter. his eyes landed on you, watched as you tried to make yourself seem smaller, and he tsked. “not sure why, considering-”

“guys, fires going so come grab your marshmallows!” Yuji’s voice rang out, the saving bell to the heart attack you were about to experience. you quickly shot from your seat, desperately wanting to leave the situation laid in front of you.

but Choso had other plans. he rose from his seat with you, hand reaching out and roughly grabbing Sukuna’s shirt. you froze in place, watching Choso eyes go almost dark. “considering what?” Choso snarled, his brows furrowed in anger.

“what’s going on?” Yuji approached slowly. Megumi and Nobara followed, examining the scene before them.

“don’t worry about it.” Sukuna answered Choso with a wicked smirk. you realized this was his intent, to rile Choso up and start something you didn’t want to see finished.

“if you were thinking about disrespecting y/n, don’t.” Choso warned him. Yuji looked over at you in concern, and you felt Nobara’s hand gently rest on your shoulder.

your heart was racing in your chest, threatening to explode altogether. this couldn’t be it, right? Sukuna wouldn’t reveal something to everyone all at once – would he?

but as Sukuna grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischievous intent, you realized he could.

“considering that school girl crush she’s had. she’s probably like a cat in heat around me.” the atmosphere thickened with tension, and you could feel every heartbeat pounding in your ears. Sukuna’s smirk widened as he reveled in the chaos he had created. “what? you’re all so serious,” he taunted, glancing between Choso and Yuji, clearly enjoying the disruption.

Choso stepped closer, his jaw clenched tight. “you think this is a joke?”

“I’m just pointing out facts. isn’t that right, y/n?” Sukuna’s eyes locked onto yours, and the way he said your name felt like a threat. your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he might say next.

“don’t drag her into this,” Choso shot back, his voice low but fierce. you could see the tension ripple through him, the muscles in his arms taut as he stood protectively in front of you.

Yuji and the others exchanged worried glances, uncertainty etched on their faces. “maybe we should just—” Megumi started, but his words were cut off by Sukuna’s dismissive wave.

“why don’t you just admit it, y/n?” Sukuna continued, his tone condescending. “you’re the one who keeps giving me mixed signals. you want my attention but then shy away. what’s it going to be?”

before your brain could fully register the chaos unfolding, Choso’s fist connected with Sukuna’s cheek with a sickening thud that echoed sharply in the air. you stood frozen, helpless, as Sukuna stumbled back, shock morphing into anger as he cradled his face on the ground.

“woah, okay, everyone calm down!” Yuji shouted, rushing forward to position himself between his brothers. he raised his hands in a placating gesture, desperately trying to diffuse the escalating tension. “you both need to cool off. Sukuna, go somewhere else for a bit and figure out how to not be an ass. Choso… just go sit by the fire.”

Sukuna rose to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes. he shot you a glare that felt like ice, then turned on his heel, storming back toward the cabin and slamming the door behind him. the echo of the door slamming resonated in the silence that followed, leaving a heavy weight in the air.

Choso’s attention immediately shifted to you. he stepped closer, his hand trembling as it reached up to rest gently on your cheek. “are you okay?” he asked softly, concern flooding his gaze. you nodded, though the words were trapped in your throat.

“let’s go make some marshmallows, yeah?” Choso suggested, a tentative smile breaking through his worry. he took your hand, leading you toward the campfire where the others were beginning to gather, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

as you walked, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. this wasn’t what you had wanted—Choso didn’t need to defend you with a punch, you didn’t want to put your friends in an awkward situation, and most of all, you didn’t want to be haunted by the hurt that Sukuna’s actions had caused.

“I’m sorry for ruining the night,” you said quietly, glancing down as everyone turned their attention to you. the weight of their gazes felt heavy. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

Choso’s hand enveloped yours, offering warmth and reassurance, while Yuji’s expression softened as he looked at you. “it’s not your fault. we all know Sukuna likes to push people’s buttons,” he said, though you could sense the hollow comfort in his words.

“he shouldn’t have come,” Nobara added, rolling her eyes as she handed you a poker and a marshmallow. “if he hadn’t shown up, we’d be drunk and stuffed full of sugar right now.”

“can we… still get stuffed full of sugar?” you asked, a smile slowly creeping onto your lips, tentative but real.

Choso beamed at you, his eyes brightening. “of course we can.” he deftly skewered your marshmallow onto the stick, a playful glint in his gaze.

so there you sat, gathered around the fire, your friends doing their best to lift your spirits as you filled your gut with too many marshmallows. and feeling butterflies swarming every time your best friend’s brother smiled at you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[dovesdreaming]

Deadpools guide to keeping you alive

Summary: You have a habit of reminding everyone to take care of themselves, even though you often forget to do it for yourself. Wade, being Wade, notices, and in his own ridiculous yet sweet way, steps in to help you remember the little things.

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Masterlist

-

You sat on the couch, curled up with your phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media while Wade, in full Deadpool attire, was standing on the coffee table, striking ridiculous superhero poses for no apparent reason. He’d started doing it about ten minutes ago, just because he could. One hand on his hip, the other flexed, he looked like a cross between a professional wrestler and an action figure from the 90s. "Looking good, Wade” you said absently, not even glancing up from your screen. "Have you had any water today?". “Hydration is for the weak!" he declared, though he immediately reached for the water bottle you’d left on the coffee table and took a big gulp, mask and all. You weren’t entirely sure how it worked, but you’d stopped asking those kinds of questions a long time ago. You smiled at his antics and shifted, feeling a little light-headed, but brushed it off. It happened sometimes. Not a big deal. Wade, however, noticed the slight wobble in your movement. He paused mid-pose, tilting his head toward you. "Hey, babe, you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out faster than I can regenerate a new spleen”.

You waved him off, though your stomach growled quietly. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just haven’t eaten yet, I guess. No big deal”. Wade’s eyes widened beneath his mask, and he jumped off the coffee table with a surprisingly graceful landing. "Uh, what? You guess? You haven’t eaten yet?" He checked the clock on the wall. "It’s 4 PM. That's not 'yet,' that’s 'barely survived on air alone!”. You frowned, genuinely surprised by the time. You’d gotten up early that morning, thrown yourself into work, and totally lost track of everything else. Again. “Oh…” You blinked. “Right. Oops?”.

Wade crossed his arms and gave you a look you knew well, the ‘I’m about to be ridiculous but also right’ look. “Let me get this straight: you’ve reminded me, multiple times, to drink water today-thank you for that, by the way-but you forgot to eat?” You shrugged, trying to play it off, though the light-headedness was starting to catch up to you. “I get distracted, okay? I’ve got a lot going on in my head sometimes”. Wade didn’t argue with that. Instead, he sighed and sat down next to you, pulling you into his side. “Alright, here's the deal. You’re gonna sit right here, not move a muscle- except to blink, breathe, and keep that heart pumping I guess, and I’m gonna make you some food”.

You started to protest. “Wade, you don’t have to-“ But he was already up, bounding toward the kitchen with surprising energy for a guy who’d been play posing on a coffee table moments before. “I do have to! Because apparently, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached, and I can’t have that, babe. You’d look weird without it”. You chuckled as you watched him dig through the fridge, though there was a part of you that felt a little guilty. This wasn’t the first time you’d forgotten something important. Wade had found you passed out on the couch before because you’d stayed up working for nearly two days straight. And then there was the time you forgot to drink for an entire day while binge watching a new show. Wade had quickly gotten you a glass of whatever was closest whilst gently scolding you.

Still, despite your forgetfulness, you always made sure to look out for your friends. You’d tell Wade, and anyone else, to “drink more water!” or “take breaks!” but when it came to yourself, you… just forgot. It wasn’t on purpose. It was like your brain got too full, and the little things just slipped through the cracks. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Wade was muttering to himself, something about "smoking chimichangas" and “how do normal people make sandwiches without a sword?” But a few minutes later, he returned with a plate in hand, two sandwiches that looked like they’d survived a battle, but were clearly made with love. “Behold!” Wade declared, placing the plate on your lap with a flourish. “A culinary masterpiece. You won’t find this in any Michelin-star restaurant, because they can’t handle the truth”.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Wade. You didn’t have to, really”. “Of course I did” he said, sitting back down beside you, much more gently this time. “Somebody’s gotta make sure you remember to do basic human things, like eating and sleeping and not turning into a raisin from dehydration”. You took a bite of the sandwich, feeling instantly better. “It’s good” you said through a mouthful of food. “Of course it is. I’m Deadpool. I don’t make bad sandwiches” he replied, leaning in to nudge you with his elbow. “But seriously, you gotta start taking care of yourself. I mean, I can regenerate my liver if it gives out, but you? You get one shot at this whole ‘being alive’ thing”.

You swallowed and nodded, feeling a little sheepish. “I know, I just… I get so caught up in things, I forget”. Wade looked at you, and even through the mask, you could feel the softness in his gaze. He reached over, pulling you into a side hug. “You know what, babe? That’s what I’m here for. To remind you to do all that boring, vital stuff. You remind me to drink water, I remind you to, you know, live. We balance each other out”.

You rested your head on his shoulder, sandwich still in hand. “Yeah, I guess we do”. “And from now on” Wade said, his voice full of determination, “I’m going to make sure you never forget again. I’ll be your personal reminder system. Forget to eat? I’ll hand-feed you if I have to. Forget to sleep? I’ll tuck you in with my very own beddy-bye song. And forget to shower? Well, I’ll.. okay, I’ll just throw you in the shower with a loofah grenade”.

You laughed, the sound muffled by another bite of your sandwich. “I don’t know if I should be scared or touched by that”. “Touched” Wade said, pulling you closer. “Definitely touched. In the heart, not the weird way. Unless you want it to be the weird way. I’m flexible”. You smiled, warmth filling your chest. “Thanks, Wade”. “Don’t mention it, babe” he said softly. Then he looked down at you, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Now, finish that sandwich and then we’re going to bed. Not for the fun stuff, mind you, unless you’re into that, but because you need to sleep. Doctor Deadpool’s orders”. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the yawn that followed. “Fine, but only because Doctor Deadpool said so”. “That’s the spirit!” Wade cheered, and with a surprisingly gentle tug, he pulled you up off the couch and toward the bedroom, all while mumbling something about setting hydration alarms and taping snack bars to the walls as reminders.

And as you curled up in bed that night, Wade snuggled up next to you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. Because even when you forgot to take care of yourself, Wade was always there to remind you, whether it was about drinking water, getting enough sleep, or just eating a simple sandwich.

And really, that was all you needed.

-

Thank you for reading!!

[mollywog]

Now I am truly in danger of crying, but fortunately Haymitch chooses this time to come staggering across the stage to congratulate me. "Look at her. Look at this one!" he hollers, throwing an arm around my shoulders. He's surprisingly strong for such a wreck. "Ilike her!" His breath reeks of liquor and it's been a long time since he's bathed. "Lots of ..." He can't think of the word for a while. "Spunk!" he says triumphantly. "More than you!" he releases me and starts for the front of the stage. "More than you!" he shouts, pointing directly into a camera.

Is he addressing the audience or is he so drunk he might actually be taunting the Capitol? I'll never know because just as he's opening his mouth to continue, Haymitch plummets off the stage and knocks himself unconscious.

And

"Of course Peeta's right. The whole country adores Katniss's little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands," says Johanna flatly. "Don't want that, do they?" She throws back her head and shouts, "Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!"

My mouth drops open in shock. No one, ever, says anything like this in the Games. Absolutely, they've cut away from Johanna, are editing her out. But I have heard her and can never think about her again in the same way. She'll never win any awards for kindness, but she certainly is gutsy. Or crazy. She picks up some shells and heads toward the jungle. "I'm getting water," she says.

I can't help catching her hand as she passes me. "Don't go in there. The birds -"I remember the birds must be gone, but I still don't want anyone in there. Not even her.

"They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love," Johanna says, and frees her hand with an impatient shake. When she brings me back a shell of water, I take it with a silent nod of thanks, knowing how much she would despise the pity in my voice.

The goal of eliminating Haymitch and Johanna’s loved ones was to break them (and set an example), but the unintended consequence was that they have nothing left to lose.