#to go back and reflect on all i have ever loved

[matzarchives]

there's so much to say about this fic OH MY GOD??@#?@?$

let me just.

HGHHH THE NUMBER OF METAPHORS IN THIS IM GONNA BE SICK. the stove failing to ignite. them having the entire argument not facing each other. don't even get me started on mc's "like when you take" comment. just kill me already oml

i love how sporadic and almost psychotic mc's thoughts are because they so clearly reflect her anxiety and worry. she's got a million thoughts going through her head and all of them lead back to the fear of this impending doom.

there are SOO many absolutely god-tier lines in this but my favourite has to be:

You don't know what to do with your hands. Not now, not before, and never after he leaves

i'm actually going to jump out a window op. what is she without chan? what happens when all you've ever known is to give? what do you do you've given everything that you are to someone and they take it and leave? god this line. everything about this fic is amazing but this line. i will be laying awake thinking about it.

keep me. bang chan (18+)

There’s uncertainty in his voice. A crack, an opening he doesn’t intend. He wants this, too. You know it. Anything you could give, he wants it. And he will take it.

PAIRING. bang chan / f! reader GENRE. smut, angst, break up fic WORD COUNT. 8.7k WARNINGS. 18+ mdni — explicit content, very emotional sex, light d/s dynamics, fingering, oral sex (m! receiving), a little face fucking, unprotected sex (it’s a long established relationship), a little bit of manhandling, use of petnames (baby, love), dirty talk & praise (good girl), shower sex, color system, subtly toxic relationship

NOTES. i’m very excited to share this with you all, it’s the first i’ve written after a very long time ♡ writing this was an emotional rollercoaster lol let me know if i missed any tags or warnings! happy reading ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

It’s three knocks on your door that finally sink the heartbreak into the pit of your stomach.

Only Chan would do that—knock on your door softly, wait for you to let him in despite being told that the door is unlocked. Despite you leaving it unlocked for him, every time.

I’m free today, he had written in the text. Can I call you? But you had invited him to your apartment instead, and you shouldn’t even have to ask him to come over. Wednesdays were always for you and him.

Silly, you don’t even have to ask, you had told him, a half-empty laugh following after.

You had heard the sound of his breathing for a moment, and with the silence just a hitch away becoming too uncomfortable, too tense, he had said on the other side of the line, right. I know that.

“It’s me,” he knocks on the other side of the door twice more. “Can I come in?”

You stare at the coat hanging on one of the hooks by the door for a moment, feeling a sigh in your chest. You try to hold it in, reaching for the knob instead.

“Of course it’s you,” you tease when the door opens. “Of course you can.”

Chan seems worn out and tired, but he offers you a smile anyway. It’s warm and familiar and… and something else you recognize but can’t begin to think about. He holds his hand up by your ear and tucks your hair behind it.

“Hi,” he breathes.

You nuzzle into his hand, subconsciously stepping forward, further, responding in the same manner, “Hi. I’m cooking dinner for us.”

It’s so easy to fall into step with him. He finds his way into the middle of your apartment, immediately setting down everything in his hands down the old coffee table. You glance at the paper bag (“That’s just some leftover snacks, if you want it!” he says without you needing to ask), crumpled at the top where Chan had held it, his phone beside it. His small pouch rests at the corner of your small couch.

(He sets them down gently, carefully, methodically, in the same way he set down his heart, some years ago, in the middle of the street after a few drinks at a small, snobbish club. I love you. You held onto his arm, seeking warmth. I love you.)

“It smells good,” he sniffs exaggeratedly, walking towards the stove. “What are you cooking?” he asks as he lifts the glass lid, steam wafting through the air and the aroma of the food becoming stronger.

“Just some veggie soup. The temperature’s starting to drop, don’t you think?” you tell him, chuckling to yourself a little. “Are you hungry? It’ll be ready in around ten minutes. Could you wait a little longer? I have some snacks in the fridge, if you want.”

His lips break into a grin, and you think it’s beginning to form a small laugh on his tongue. You rambled again, and years ago you would’ve been embarrassed, covering your mouth in shame. I love the way you talk, he had told you. You don’t have to hold anything back. I hope you can be comfortable with me.

“It’s fine,” he shakes his head, cheeky and teasing. You sigh jokingly, and he puts the lid back onto the pot before turning back to you. “I’m actually less hungry and more—icky? I need to wash up, I mean. S’been a long day.”

“By all means,” you nod, gesturing to the bathroom. It says a lot more than, yes, you can do that. It also says, your clothes have been in the same place they’ve always been. Your toothbrush, the soap you specifically use because your skin is a lot more sensitive than mine, your towels, everything… they’re still here. “Food’ll be ready by the time you’re done.”

Chan scratches the back of his head, looking down at his feet before he looks back at you, sheepish. He takes a few steps towards you until his hands could reach your shoulders—he does just that, rubbing his thumbs on the exposed skin of your collarbone before tilting his head.

“Help me wash up?”

Your face immediately burns up, lips tensing at the suggestion. He knows you weren’t one to like showering together; it’s cramped, a waste of water, and overall impractical. You’d sometimes join him, sure, but majority of the time you’d politely decline. Chan respects that. He always does.

There’s something about this suggestion now. Something different, something… greedy. A plead, almost. You think he starts to breathe a little heavier with each passing second of your silence, and his hooded eyes wait for the answer on your face.

You think you need this, too.

You nod at him, quickly closing in the gap and placing a small, brief kiss on his lips. He immediately gets his arms around you, but before he could make anything out of it, you pull away. You don’t know if he realizes it but you feel the way his lips chase yours when you move back. Your chest swells at your realization.

“Ten minutes, Chan,” you tease, placing another kiss on his cheek. “Don’t wanna burn the apartment down.”

“I don’t like the veggies too cooked, though,” he clicks his tongue. “Here.”

He suddenly squats down, pulling you by the back of your thighs before carrying you in his arms. A small squeal leaves you before you could even process a reaction, and you had immediately grabbed onto his shoulders in fear of falling. He buries his nose into the skin of your neck and places his warm lips on it.

“Bang Chan! What the hell,” you scold him, hitting his shoulder with furrowed brows. “Impatient.”

Wriggling your way out of his hold proves no use. He holds onto you so firmly that you could only wrap your arms and legs around him tighter. You slap his back weakly, still startled from him carrying you without warning. He laughs onto your skin and you feel its tickle down your spine, flinching slightly with a laugh of your own. You feel his arms pull you tighter.

“We can do all that we need to do later,” he mumbles. “It can wait.”

There it is again. You hear it. A plead, but only subtle. Smooth in his voice, soft and supple. Like the thumbs that rub the skin on the sides of your thighs. He hikes you higher up his torso, and another breath leaves at the sudden little movement. You’re so tempted to give in.

“No. We eat first, then we wash up,” you insist, words leaving no room for argument. You hear a soft whine so you steady yourself with one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek. “Okay?”

He presses his lips on yours in response, deep and heavy. Its plushness move against yours, and suddenly you’re down in your worn out barstool, back in the kitchen. The metal of the old seat creaks and Chan pulls away from you, breathless.

“Stay there, I’ll take care of this,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know,” Chan starts, as if you just know. “Cooking for me. You didn’t have to.”

He doesn’t turn to you when he says it. The clicks of the stove struggling to reignite its flames resound and deep within your chest you think also hear the same. Click click click. He grabs the wooden spoon just beside the sink and he stirs the soup, lifting it up once just to let the liquid dribble back down into the pot. You rest your cheek against your hand, elbow propped on the countertop.

You stare at his back and wonder how much of its dips and curves you’ve already memorized—how much of it you need to get to know more, the way they move and twitch and tremble under your touch. Beneath his black, slightly tight-fitting shirt, his shoulders visibly loosen up. He grabs two bowls from the cabinets above him and carefully spooned a hearty amount of soup into each.

It doesn’t take long before he sets up your dinner and finds himself on the stool beside yours. Neither of you say a word, tension still warm in the air, comforting—but toeing the line of awkward. The skin of his thigh brushes against yours sometimes, and you’re almost tempted to ask if it’s intentional. If he means it.

Contrary to his earlier impatience, Chan takes his time eating. He smiles when he catches you looking, and you laugh when he hums in satisfaction of a pleasant, albeit simple, dinner. The anticipation is prickling the skin on your shoulders, but you can’t seem to say a word. Chan finishes with a kiss on your cheek and a quiet mumble of another ‘thank you’ before he gathers the dishes to clean up.

It’s awful, thinking about this. You have no any idea what’s on his mind right now, and you’re so close to breaking. This won’t do. You have to say something, or he has to say something. What was that all about earlier? What happened? Is he mad? Is he disappointed? What should you—

“Baby,” he calls gently, snapping you out of it—whatever it was. A detachment from the moment, from reality? A fear, maybe. Overthinking.

You barely realize that he’s in front of you again, standing between your knees, dishes forgotten in the sink. He brings a hand to your head and rubs a finger between your brows.

“I can almost hear you thinking,” he clicks his tongue. Then he presses a firm kiss on where his touch lingered. “I’m sorry. We’re fine. You can get in the shower and I’ll be with you in a second, hm?”

No words come out of your mouth. You shudder at the implication, at the tone of his want.

Maybe you’re thinking too much about this. Maybe it’s just another Wednesday of yours, just another time he’s here. A sharing of each other’s company in the quiet routine you’ve fallen into, built over the years. So you nod at him before padding over to your bathroom.

One by one, you strip off your clothes. It doesn’t take long; you’re in the your most comfortable, anyway, since your plans were to just stay home. You never needed to impress Chan either. Whenever your fingers brush against your skin, a shiver crawls beneath your bones. There is warmth pooling in your chest—a desire that would burn you if it boils over.

But something feels… different. Like it’s all building to something neither of you is ready to name. The shower opens with a stutter and it’s hot the moment it touches your skin. You don’t mind, though—but Chan will, and you know that. You twist the tap ever so slightly, knowing exactly where it should turn for it to be warm enough to his liking. The temperature should calm you, but it doesn’t.

The way the water thrums against your skin, the tiled floor, the glass door… it’s all too much. It irks you—feeling every drop, reminded of his touch: gentle, deliberate, lingering. Then, you hear your blood pulsating in your ears. You tilt your head back, letting the water cascade over your face. It should calm you, but it doesn’t.

The door creaks open and you feel a slight breeze of chill from behind you, like a wind passing, carrying with it an odd mix of anticipation and vulnerability. It’s not like Chan is trying to be quiet. He knows you’d expect him. He asked for you to be there. There’s a moment of stillness, save for the water pattering around you. Then, the faint rustling of clothes, a slow whistle of fabric sliding down the floor. Your pulse quickens.

It doesn’t take long before you feel him behind you, close enough to stir the air around but not yet touching you. You don’t turn to look at him—your breath catches as if doing so would make the moment too real, too raw, like everything would cease to exist with one wrong move. But you feel him. His warmth is unmistakable, radiating through the steam, undeniable and grounding, a stark contrast to the chill that had briefly brushed your spine. It couldn’t be anything or anyone else. It’s him, always him, cutting through the steam like sunlight through fog.

And maybe that’s how his presence has always been, how he really is: sun, sunlight, sunshine. A warmth you can’t help but lean into, even when it burns.

Chan is the first to break the silence. “Hi,” he simply says before he kisses the skin where your neck and shoulder meet. His hands soon follow, soothing the soreness of your muscles with a gentle massage. You whimper quietly.

“Hi,” you manage to respond moments after.

Chan rests his forehead on the back of your head, stopping you from turning around when you made that first little step. He pulls you closer to his body, your back flush against his chest and you feel it heave in along with his breathing. With every exhale through his nose the air grows heavier.

“Don’t,” he breathes. “Stay there. I’ll wash you.”

“I want to see you, though,” you try to complain, but the words fall weak on your tongue. “Chan?”

“Later.”

You feel him stretch his arm to the side, and your peripheral catches his hand reaching for the bottle of liquid on the small shelf mounted in the corner of the shower, just a bit of an arm away from your head. You lean innocently onto him but his breath hitches, taking you a bit by surprise.

As if that would stop you.

You continue to rub your behind onto him under the guise of needing warmth and seeking softness, and his breathing falters with each minute. He rubs his hands together, soapy and slippery, before rubbing it all along your body in seemingly random but nonetheless tender patterns. He starts with your arms, then he moves to your shoulders, your back, your legs, from back to front—leaning forward to reach further, then to your waist. His hand inches to your center, where you need it most, and you could almost feel the tease in his touch. He reaches for another pump of soap before he brushes his fingers onto the skin of your abdomen. It twitches with the gasp you couldn’t catch before it’s out of your mouth, and you suddenly jolt your hips back towards his, a movement you couldn’t control.

And Chan whimpers. It’s low and hushed, almost too quiet if his lips weren’t all up in your ear. The moment halts and the warmth that pooled in your chest moves down and you like it. So you do it again, pressing back into his body further. And again, wiggling until his cock catches against your lower back. And again, feeling him holding himself back.

Then he grips your arms to steady you. That doesn’t stop his hardness from pushing against the dip of your lower spine. Then you whimper. He still keeps you turned away from him.

“Stop moving,” he grits. “You’re so needy, aren’t you?”

You don’t even try to deny that. How could you, when he moves his right forearm to wrap around your chest, his left hand just below your abdomen. Close, but not enough. He toys with the skin that it frustrates you. It’s so close. You try to stand on your tiptoes, moving yourself closer to where you need his hand to be but he holds you with his arm firmly enough to keep you in place. His hand leaves your abdomen to catch the water from the shower, washing off the soap.

“I said,” he whispers into your ear, tone rough, “stop moving.”

Then he finally, finally touches you. His finger trace your slit lightly, the stroke almost too subtle to feel. Your legs immediately draw close together, and Chan supports you when you almost lose balance. He sighs in your ear, a short, small laugh following the prod of his finger into your core.

In a desperate attempt to stop his teasing, you could only cry out his name. “Chan,” your voice shakes, and you hold onto the arm around your chest in attempt to ground yourself, to keep yourself together. “Please.”

“Just a little more, my love,” he starts, still moving a single finger—God fucking damn it, only a single one—up and down your folds. “And I’ll give you what you want.”

Your chest quivers with deep, uneven breaths. You hold out as best as you can, keeping your desire from bursting and it burns you. Please. There is only a word in your head, clouded and hazy. Like a mantra, a chant. Please. Please.

“So good,” Chan praises, and you swear you could hear the smile in his voice which only sharpens the greed clawing at your core. Desperate to feel more, to take more.

But between you and him, it’s not your job to take more. That’s Chan’s. That’s him, since the beginning.

So he takes.

He pushes a finger into you and right then and there you feel that you could just give everything you could ever offer for his taking. It feels as if he belongs there, as if you are shaped for nothing but his touch. He pulls his finger out a bit before pushing it back deeper, into a place you’ve never reached for the past month on your own, or the past year, or ever.

Chan finds a steady pace, slow and deliberate strokes exploring your wetness. Still only a single finger, and you are so tempted to curse him out, to demand more—but you know how patience drives pleasure. There is no choice but to wait. He recognizes it and he whispers another praise in your ear, “You are doing so good, baby.”

You feel another finger teasing your sensitive bud, and not long after there are two fingers parting your slick folds with practiced ease. Your knees buckle in surrender to the pleasure. It feels so hot, as if each movement fans the flames in your core and with every touch Chan leaves trails of pleasure. You’re almost gasping, like you’re running out of breath.

It’s not your job to take more, but this is something only Chan could give. He is giving it to you right now. What else are you supposed to do but take it?

You move your hand from his forearm around your chest to the nape of his neck clumsily. He shifts slightly, letting go of your torso and gripping your thigh to hold it up and oh. Your grasp falters and his fingers remain relentless in giving you the rhythm your body demanded. He curls them inside you and you almost choke.

Despite still having your back flushed to his chest, you crane your neck to at least feel his lips against your cheeks. Soft moans are hovering at the edge of your month, cries on the verge of slipping out. You struggle to find your voice, lost among the steam, but you try nonetheless.

“Chan–ah,” your voice wavers with a moan. “Please, Chan… I– kiss. Please, kiss.”

You feels Chan’s body tremble behind you, hips bucking that his cock brushes against the curve of your ass. You whimper, and you let it out freely this time.

“Fuck, you’re so…” Chan falters, fingers erratic in your heat. “How sweet you sound, begging like that.” He presses himself against your back, again and again, a desperate attempt to chase his own pleasure too. His breath is hot against your skin, hovering your jaw. The water from the shower doing nothing to regulate the temperature of your body. “I just can’t get enough of you.”

Then he kisses you. It’s a little awkward, with your lips not fully slotting or fitting, your necks turned as much as you comfortably can but none of that matters. It’s all teeth and spit and some water gets into your mouth and none of that matters. He kisses you and he curls his fingers in you and you’re almost at your limit. A moan vibrates in your chest, wanton and needy, then Chan pulls away to let you breathe. As if that helps, as if his lips and tongue moving to your jaw doesn’t leave you breathless and writhing in want.

He pulls your thigh closer to him, opening you up further. A guttural sound leaves you and you would be embarrassed at how dirty it sounds but you’re reaching the highest peak of your desire—the roar of the flames in your core now at its full.

“Chan,” you cry out. “Chan, I’m near—ah… please. I’m cumming, please.”

The air is filled with steam and the sound of water, his skin on your skin, his fingers not stopping. Your hips buck against his hand and it drives deeper. He holds it there and you tremble in his arms. You whimper, again and again and again.

“Good,” he coaxes. “You’re almost there, my love. Come on.”

His voice is heavy and rough. He licks the shell of your ear and it sends you over to the edge. His fingers twist inside you and he just takes, drinking up your cries with his lips just hovering yours.

There is a gradual, methodic way in which he slows his fingers, letting you ride out your high until your lungs find a steadier pace, each breath more controlled. He kisses the top of your head before he gently holds your chin—with the very same hand he used to bring you pleasure—turning your face to his.

How filthy, him rubbing your slickness on you. So filthy, and it’s arousing you. It’s surprising because you just got fingered out of your damn mind and you still want more. You’re still willing to give more.

Chan captures your lips in a soft kiss, biting your lower lip lightly before he pulls away just enough to speak, “You did so well.”

He reaches upward to cup water in his hands, using it to wash your chin and your neck. Then again to wash your abdomen and center. You gasp at the touch, and he whispers an apology immediately.

“I know, I’m sorry. Sensitive, hm? Let me just wash you, okay?”

You nod at him, closing your eyes and choosing to rest your forehead on his shoulder as he rubs you clean. When he finishes with a soft pat to your thigh, your eyes open only to be greeted by the sight of his cock, rock hard and almost flushed red. God. Fuck. You pull back, searching his face for something—anything, whatever it is, and he just offers you a lopsided smile.

“Hmm?” he hums in question, curious about the way your brows furrow. “What is it?”

“You,” you simply say. “Are you…?”

“I’m fine.” He brushes it off like it’s nothing. He has given you pleasure and he has taken your pleasure. You want to do the same to him. He shakes his head, “I swear. It’s fine.”

But he doesn’t stop you when you go down on your knees, facing his cock with a hunger you couldn’t fathom. He caresses your hair, whatever he could reach, but he doesn’t even pull you away. “You don’t have to. We can take this to bed,” he still says.

There’s uncertainty in his voice. A crack, an opening he doesn’t intend. He wants this, too. You know it. Anything you could give, he wants it.

“But I want to.”

And he will take it.

He places a finger under your chin to guide you and raise your head, looking you in the eye. You could almost see yourself in the depths of his gaze, a reflection of something shameless, almost jarring. You couldn’t believe you’re liking this—let alone getting intoxicated in arousal for this. It’s like something changed in him in a blink.

“You do?” Chan laughs, almost mockingly. A shiver runs across the expanse of your shoulders, the sound sending another spark of heat through you. Deeper this time, scorching. “You want my cock that badly, huh? Suck me off ‘til your lips grow tired?”

His finger moves, grazing your skin until it reaches your ear. He tucks your wet hair behind it, just like he did by the apartment door when he arrived earlier. His gaze holds you captive, and that feeling of being exposed, vulnerable, it surges again.

Your breath catches as you nod, unable to form any word. He’s always had that effect on you—making you forget your own control, like you’re just a thing for him to take. In the absence of words, you hold his length with a hand and he inhales sharply at your touch. It doesn’t take much to arouse him; with a few nimble strokes his shaft gets hard again. Perhaps even more so.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, firm but gentle, and pulls you closer.

“Good girl,” he whispers, and the praise, laced with an almost indistinguishable amount of contempt, has you reeling. You lick a bit along his tip, testing the waters. His fingers weave through your hair with a slow sigh. “Show me how much you really want it. Give it to me.”

You press a kiss to the side of his cock, soft at first, as if tasting the moment before plunging in. His body shudders. The saltiness lingers on your tongue as you part your lips wider, slowly taking him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word barely audible, more an exhale than speech. His hand slightly tightens in your hair, not pulling, just holding, grounding himself. You hollow your cheeks, sliding further forward, and the groan that rumbles in his chest sends a thrill through you.

The weight of him is heavy on your tongue, and you let yourself sink into a languid pace, drawing him in, inch by inch, savoring the way his body reacts. His hips jerk, just a little, involuntarily, and you can’t help the slight moan that leaves your throat. The sound and vibration seem to undo him.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” Chan grunts, his voice rough around the edges, raw with need. His hand cups the back of your head, guiding you—not forcing, but encouraging—as you take him deeper, working with a mix of tongue, lips, and a shit ton of spit.

Water slides down your cheeks and occasionally finds its way to your mouth. Not that you care. You glance up, catching his gaze. A carnal glint is in his stare, and he smiles. Fuck. The sight of him nearly takes your breath away. His jaw falls slack, his lips part, and his eyes lock on you—heavy-lidded and burning with something primal.

The tension in his thighs grow as you continue, a gradual acceleration in the way you take him in. The soft, wet sounds fill the air, almost louder than the water hitting the walls and floors, mingling with his labored breaths and low groans. His thumb brushes your cheek, a fleeting touch that feels oddly tender amidst the heat.

“Just like that,” Chan murmurs, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t stop. You’re—perfect.”

You give an experimental hum, letting it thrum in your mouth. Chan whimpers and it’s an absolutely beautiful thing to hear. You hum again, louder this time. Your chest heaves at the limited breathing but Chan is slowly losing his sense of control and it rouses you. There is another pool of warmth in your core, and you’re trying your best to rub your thighs together in your position, hoping to relieve a little bit of your need.

“You’re killing me,” Chan laughs to himself, head thrown back, words thorny with lust. His hands move to your shoulders, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth. “I won’t last if you keep going like that.” His voice cracks, betraying the thin line of self-control he’s holding onto.

You pull back slightly, just enough to take a breath, and your lips glisten with the evidence of his pleasure. A mischievous smile tugs at your lips and you glance up again, locking eyes with him. The hunger and greed in his gaze sends your mind into a frenzy of heat, something deep and wild, as though you’re caught in the storm of his desire.

“Do you want me to stop then?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, teasing in its softness. There is a scratch in your words.

His lips curl into a grin, but it’s strained, the desperation clear in the way his eyes darken. “Hell no,” he clicks his tongue. “Just–don’t stop. You’re so fucking good at this, baby. You know what to do, right?”

There is no need for words. You nod at him, eager and wanting.

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Good.” His hand finds its way back to your hair, pulling just enough to keep you in place. His cock lingers on your lips, and you open your mouth wide, waiting for him to push it in. “Hold on tight.”

He waits for you to gain a steady grip on the back of his thighs before he thrusts forward. The tension in his body snaps as you give and give and give. The taste of him, the sound of his labored breaths, the way he tenses under your touch—your lips, your tongue, the wetness in your slit. You give and give and give and he takes and takes and takes.

Just like he did earlier, when he indulged you. Your pleasure laid out, vulnerable and he just takes. Or the past 3 years, with your heart out in the open, unguarded and he just takes.

It all becomes a blur, this moment. He fucks your face so lewdly, desperate to reach his own high. One hand of yours moves downward, to your own clit. You rub in frantic patterns, aroused out of your damn mind.

His movements begin to stutter, thrusts sloppier. You hum in pleasure, of yours and of his, as your fingers move faster on your wet skin. Chan doesn’t even try to stop the filthy sounds rolling off his tongue and you’re sure he is nearing his limit.

He thrusts a few more times before he pushes in deep—reaching farther than he ever had for the past ten minutes of his cock being in your mouth. His tip brushes against the back of your throat and he stays there for a moment. You couldn’t help the obscene moan and Chan’s whole body shudders. His cock throbs in your mouth before he pulls you away, letting his cum release all over your chest.

Your mouth remains open, breathless and trembling. The moment falls heavy between you, and Chan takes a second before he brushes his fingers through your hair and guides you to stand up. He doesn’t say a word, immediately beginning to wash his cum on you. He grabs another pump of soap, letting it bubble in his hands before cleaning you with it.

“Chan,” you begin, the silence getting to you.

“Hm?” he hums simply. He doesn’t stop his hands, but he raises his head to look at you, pupils still blown wide. His breathing is slowly coming down. He offers you a gentle smile before leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “You did so well. I’m sorry if I went a bit rough.”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around his waist in an almost embrace. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I like it.”

“You like it?”

His hands stop and his attention is now fully on you. He raises an eyebrow at your statement, confused. You feel a bit of shame but you continue. “I like it when you… when you just—take.”

Chan stays silent. He doesn’t react, or say a word. It’s hard to read his expression when it’s almost blank, and he continues washing your body until he just says, “Get on the bed and wait for me. Don’t bother putting anything on.”

Then it dawns on you. Whatever you just told him was dangerous. You’re not quite sure how, and to what extent, but something weighs on your chest when he turns the shower off and waits for you to step out. You don’t even need to be told twice.

You take your time drying yourself off with your towel, lingering for a minute on your slit. Still fucking wet. Heat creeps up your face at the realization and you immediately throw the towel into the basket of dirty clothes. There are extra towels, fortunately, stashed inside the small cabinet by your bathroom sink. You hang it up the shower door for Chan to use, not needing to inform him because you know he knows.

Stepping out of the bathroom bare naked lets you feel the temperature change in full. You realize how warm it was when you were in the bathroom with Chan. You shiver, feeling cold—the loss of a warm body, a presence, the slow decrease of arousal.

You walk your way to your bedroom, making sure to keep your feet light. The shower opens and you hear the water pattering again, then suddenly your arousal comes back in full force. Your bed is cool and unmade and you have half the mind to start toying with your pussy again, to feel at least half of what Chan had made you feel with his fingers. But that’s not what you were told to do.

The sound of the shower persists, steady and hushed, a stark contrast to the chaos in your chest. You spend the next minutes staring at the ceiling, waiting. It feels excruciatingly slow. Time doesn’t feel real, when the bathroom is right next door and you still hear Chan in there. You bite your lip, trying to focus on anything but the ache between your legs or the growing weight in your chest. It feels like he’s taking forever, like the space between you is widening with every drop of water hitting the floor.

Your mind betrays you, replaying the way his hands had felt on you, the way his voice dipped when he whispered praises in your ear. You wonder if he’s thinking about this. Thinking about you. You wonder if he regrets it. Or worse—if he doesn’t.

You close your eyes, willing the thoughts to stop, but they only grow louder. What does this mean? What are you supposed to feel? The heat of desire clashes violently with the icy grip of doubt, and suddenly you’re not sure which will win.

When the water finally stops, you sit up abruptly, heart pounding as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. The sound of the door creaking open makes you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. You hear his footsteps, soft but deliberate, and then he’s there, standing by the doorway of your bedroom.

Chan doesn’t say anything first, just looks at you, his gaze unreadable. He’s towel-drying his hair, the damp strands sticking to his forehead, droplets sliding down the sharp line of his jaw. You can’t look away, even though every part of you feels like you should.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?” he says finally, his voice low and teasing, but there’s something in it—something wavering, like he’s waiting for you to tip the balance, unsure if he should pull back or push further.

You manage a weak laugh, though it feels hollow. “Not exactly.”

He steps closer, the tension in the room thickening with every movement. “You okay?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost gentle.

The question lingers in the air and for a moment, you think about lying, about brushing it off like you always do. About giving what he wants to take. But the words are stuck in your throat, you feel. You lean back on the pillows, enough to be comfortable but not fully lying down.

“I don’t know,” you admit, palms up on your thighs. The answer comes out frail and delicate.

Something shifts in his expression—concern, maybe, or guilt. He sets the towel aside, crossing the room in a few quick strides, and sits beside you on the bed. His hand hovers for a moment before he places it on your knee, his touch warm and grounding.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and you hate how earnest he sounds, how much you want to believe that he cares.

You don’t doubt that he cares a little bit. Not as much as you do about him, though. Not as much as he thinks he does, nor as much as he did before, in the middle of the street. I love you, he said then.

“This isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

Such weight hanging heavy in the air feels suffocating. It feels like you have to grasp for air. For a moment, he looks like he might say something, but he closes his mouth, jaw tightening, and you choke.

It’s unbelievable, really. After all that, he just kisses you. His lips are on yours without warning and you melt into his arms. The kiss is careful at first, tentative, like he’s trying to find the words he can’t say in the press of his lips. But it’s not enough—not for you, not for what’s bubbling up inside you. Your hands grip his shoulders, turning your torso to him for a more comfortable position. You pull him closer, as if proximity could mend this. His hands move up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t even realized were falling.

He guides you to sit on his lap, and you feel his hardness on your bum again. You swallow a sob back and Chan pulls away in surprise.

“Hey,” he murmurs against your lips, breaking the kiss but keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His voice is shaky, not like the teasing confidence from before. “Talk to me. Please.”

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper. “Not without…” Your voice trails off, but he seems to understand.

He presses, though. “Without what?” His tone is urgent yet gentle, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“Without losing you.”

Your body betrays you as you feel the heat back in your abdomen. It’s a filthy mix of hunger and misery. It boils down into something you’re all too familiar with: desperation. You roll your hips onto him and he whines. You harshly wipe away your tears with the back of your hands before pushing Chan’s chest down onto the bed. He seems taken aback, hesitant with the way he pulls his hands away. You had to grab it yourself, place it on your hips for him to hold onto.

“Make me feel good, Chan,” you plead. Another roll of your hips has you keening, his tip catching just by your entrance. “Please. Take me. Take everything that I am, I will give it to you.”

His eyes meet yours, searching, as if he’s trying to commit every detail to memory. You lean forward to let your hands touch his back, taking your time to go over every dip and curve. Then he nods, his hands moving to slide under your thighs and pulling you closer before flipping you over. He lays you down on the bed, and his gaze roams every bit of your face before he dips to kiss you again, until there is no more space left between you.

What follows isn’t rushed or frantic. It’s deliberate, every touch, every kiss, every movement laden with meaning. It’s like he’s trying to piece together what’s been fractured, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. A hand slips between your bodies until it reaches your pussy once again. He feels your slick, not needing to prod as much as he did earlier.

Then he leans away, stroking his cock a few times, his head thrown back with the contact. It doesn’t take long before he lines it up on your entrance, and he moves down, almost putting his whole weight on you.

It’s raw, it’s tender, it’s everything you’ve been longing for and everything you know will never last. Not anymore. Funny it took you three long years to feel this. Funny it would the first and last you’ll ever get this from him.

There is no resistance when he thrusts inside you, deep and slow and whole. He stays put for a minute before you tap his back, letting him know you want him to move—you need him to move. He doesn’t deny you of that, so he pulls back until only the tip lingers inside you before pushing in again heavily.

A visceral sound leaves your lips as your jaw slackens. Chan continues his pace, growing faster with each passing minute and he keeps whimpering in your ear that it sends your mind into haywire. You’re not quite sure how to handle the crashing wave of lust your body is being washed over so the best you could do is hold onto him, fingers gripping the flesh of his back tight enough to feel hot. He moans louder.

Whether it takes thirteen minutes or three years doesn’t matter. It all comes down to the warm tears you feel on your jaw, and you’re not even sure if it’s still yours or if it’s already his. Your fingers tangle in his damp hair, pulling him back to your lips. This time, the kiss isn’t soft or tentative—it’s consuming. It’s every unsaid word, every broken promise, every ounce of love that lingers between you.

He withdraws, lips finding your ear instead before placing a chaste kiss on it. You’re sure now, his tears dropping onto your skin, burning and heavy. Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou. It comes quickly. Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou. He whispers it in your ear, like a prayer. What you once had with him felt sacred, untouchable, and yet here you are, unraveling it thread by thread. Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou.

A long, drawn out cry sounds in your ear as Chan comes undone. You feel every bit of him inside you, and you body twitches as you finish with him. You hear a choked out sob from the man on top of you, and your chest tightens impossibly. You don’t know what to do with your hands. Not now, not before, and never after he leaves.

He stays inside you, cock tucked in your warmth, twitching a little. His cries continue for an amount of time you can’t even comprehend. Your eyes have long dried out now, but the space between your neck and shoulder remains wet with his tears. Your hands try to comfort him by rubbing his back, drawing circles in patterns you hope he recognizes. Soon, he turns quiet.

You feel his chest heave with yours. He stays on stop of you, putting his full weight but careful not to suffocate you. As if this whole thing wasn’t suffocating enough. It takes a moment for him to calm down completely, then he pulls out. He falls back away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed by your legs for a moment before you see him visibly relax.

He stands up to walk outside of the room. You don’t even dare to ask, to look at him and follow his movements. Chan comes back before you could even piece back your head with a towel in his hands. The bed dips where he sits before he leans forward to wipe the slick moisture on your folds. You hiss at the contact, realizing that the fabric is damp. He shushes you gently, continuing his ministrations with utmost care.

When he seems satisfied, he sets the towel away in the same place he did with his earlier. Silence lingers and you almost wish you were still in the shower, where at least the sound of water would fill in the empty air.

Chan returns to the bed, but he remains seated, his back facing you. It feels like a wall—strong, unyielding, and unreachable. You think it’s ridiculous now, realizing that there is a wall. There has always been a wall, hasn’t it? There is no way to climb it, to move past it. Invisible that it might as well not exist, yet it stands, separating you. You bury yourself under the blankets, the chill in the room seeping into your bones. You feel so small and cold and fragile. You could only stare at the ceiling, his presence beside you frustratingly overwhelming, yet so distant.

You’ve grown so accustomed to seeing his back facing you. You’re always behind him, following him along, wherever he goes and whatever he does. Always in front of you, always leading, but never turning to face you unless he’s searching for reassurance. You realize now how much you’ve relied on those fleeting glances back. They were your only proof that he still cared, still saw you. He looks back to take and you give. Sometimes you wonder which part of you is yours anymore.

You stare at his back and wonder how much of its dips and curves you’ve already memorized—how much of it you need to get to know more, the way they move and twitch and tremble under your touch. You stare at his back and wish he would just turn to face you.

“I can’t give you what you want,” he says, very quietly, like almost to himself in realization.

You almost don’t realize he said something. You heard every word, but your mind refuses to process it until a second later. And when it did, the room stills.

His words hang dull in the air, filling the room with a bittersweet ache. It’s like every sweet moment this room witnessed for the past three years disappears and there is only grief and misery in it. You want to reach for him, to cross the divide and tell him something—anything. But his back remains turned, and all you can do is fixate on the outline of his shoulders, tense and unmoving.

You mustered a small, mocking laugh. It’s weaker than you intended, but you’re in utter disbelief regardless. “You just fucked me on this very bed, Chan. I came twice today. Is that the only thing you came here for? A quick fuck?”

There is no use in making sharp remarks, but there is nothing else you could say. You’re grasping at straws and you know that.

“No, I…” Chan starts, then he sighs. He roughly ruffles his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry.”

Then it goes quiet yet again. Your mind is scrambling for words, but then, after a minute, you could only really ask, “Do you mean it? Is that what you really want?”

“No,” he answers almost immediately, shoulders heaving. Then he slackens again, almost like he’s curling into his own body, making himself small. “I don’t know what I would do if I look back and you’re not there.”

His voice is withdrawn, as if he’s confessing something he hadn’t admitted even to himself.

“Then why?”

“You’re always behind me,” he continues, words strained. “You’ve always been the one thing I could count on.” There’s a pause, and it feels like the weight of the moment is crushing him. “But what if you’re gone one day? What if I look back and you’re not there anymore?”

His admission stings in a way you weren’t prepared for. The vulnerability in his tone should comfort you, but instead, it exposes a deep-rooted wound. He only looks back to make sure you’re still following, doesn’t he? Never to meet you halfway, never to let you stand beside him.

And as fucked up as it seems, you’re willing to let that be until you can no longer understand what distance means. You’re willing to do all that, over and over again, just so he could stay.

He takes and takes and takes. And you give.

“Then why are you pushing me away?” You couldn’t help the bite in your words, angry and confused. “If you’re so scared, why leave?”

You want to scream. You want to clench your fists and punch a wall and hurt. Yourself, him. But it doesn’t come. The exhaustion overcomes you, and an ache in your chest swells. You wonder if it’s already too late.

“Because you’re like this!” he raises his voice, now matching your exasperation. “I’m giving you a chance to save yourself from me and you’re not taking it!”

Chan’s words hit like a slap, sharp and final. Your chest tightens in a mix of emotions you’re far too dizzy to comprehend. Hatred? Grief? Love? It’s all warring within you. You sit up, the blanket sliding off your shoulders and exposing your vulnerability as much as his words have exposed his.

“Save myself?” you scoff, incredulous. “I think I am way beyond saving, Chan.”

He stiffens. You don’t even give him a chance to respond before you continue, “And what about you?” you ask, your voice trembling. “When do you save yourself, Chan? When do you stop running from everything? From me?”

His hands curl into fists at his sides. “I’m not running,” he mutters, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than you.

“You’ve been running this entire time,” you counter, voice threatening to rise again. “From us. From what this could be. Three years. And now you want me to be the one to end it? To carry that burden so you don’t have to?”

His head drops, shoulders sagging under the weight of your words. For a moment, the silence between you stretches unbearably, like the final frayed thread of something you both know is about to snap.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he whispers, hoarse. “I thought… I thought letting you go would hurt less than holding on and breaking you completely.”

You let out a bitter laugh, louder this time. You meant for him to hear the distaste in it. Tears sting your eyes. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Chan. You don’t get to decide how much I’m willing to give.”

His head lifts slightly, and for the first time he turns to face you. His eyes are glassy, full of a pain you’ve rarely seen him allow himself to show. It breaks something inside you, seeing him like this. It breaks you even further, realizing he turns just like he always did: to see if you were still behind him, following.

“Then what do you want me to do?” His voice cracks when he asks.

You pause, your heart hammering. What do you want? The truth is, you don’t know anymore. You want him, but not like this—not as someone who sees you as a safety net, as a fallback. You know that now, regretting the thought of tolerating his bullshit just to keep him with you.

“I want you to want me the way I want you,” you say finally, voice soft but steady. Resolute. “Not as someone to hold you up when you’re falling. Not as someone to look back on when you’re scared. I want to stand beside you, Chan. I want to move forward with you, not be left behind.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, and your resolve almost falters when a tear slips down his cheek. “I don’t know if I can give you that,” he admits.

The words shatter the last bit of hope you were clinging to. You nod slowly, the realization settling over you like a cold, heavy blanket.

“Then maybe you’re right,” you say quietly. “Maybe I do need to save myself.”

And this time, you turn your back on him. You shift in your bed, lying on your side and staring at the clock by your bedside table. It’s hard, trying to pretend your legs aren’t shaking under the covers, trying to hide the quiver of your lips. Chan doesn’t move, doesn’t reach out to you, and that, more than anything, feels like the final nail in the coffin.

You pause, thinking of any words to say. For finality, for an end. All you could muster is, “I hope one day you stop running, Chan.”

If he leaves later that night, you don’t even know. It’s not like you could feel past the weight of the whole ordeal to even feel anything else.

That’s for you to find out tomorrow.

[pinkkkkat]

Hi!! Hope ur having a good day! Could I ask u to write something abt caitvi x fem!reader who forgets to take care of herself (bonus points if she's a workaholic)

hi i’m SO late i’m so sorry baby

(reader is a student because i’m an overworked student and this is self-indulgent like everything else i write also this is nsfw sorry if that’s not what you wanted anon! no use of y/n)

it’s not new for you to work yourself to the bone. whether it’s pulling more than one consecutive all nighter to get papers finished on time, or spending full twelve hour shifts in the library pouring over your books and notes, you slip easily into an all-work and absolutely no play mindset (not that showering or hey, eating, counts as ‘play,’ but anyways)

usually, nobody notices. so what, you disappear sometimes (for weeks), but you always pop back up looking normal, so it doesn’t draw attention. everyone knew that you were a dedicated student. the only reason caitlyn notices you’ve stopped caring for yourself is because she sees the trait of obsessively working until you drop reflected in herself

you started dating caitlyn and vi in the early summer, so they had ever seen you in your element. when the academy starts back up in the fall, your girlfriends are excited to see the sparkle in your eyes when you tell them about your passion, hands moving animatedly as you talk at a rapid pace. vi often teases you for being a nerd, but cait is much the same, so it’s two against one there

anyways

i think cait would bring it up to vi first, asking if she’s noticed how you’re starting to pull away a little, and when they do get to see you, you’re not yourself. usually, you keep your appearance well put together, hair down and outfit chosen to bolster your look-good feel-good attitude. lately though, the bags under your eyes have become prominent, and some nights you don’t come home, saying you’re gonna work late at the academy, but then not going home at all

at first, vi is just super proud of you, for working hard at what you love. she understands what it’s like to want something so bad that you can’t help but “stay in the grind.” she sends you texts in the group chat often throughout your busy days, pictures of her at the gym or a gif of little cat, always with a message saying she’s so proud of her girl, that she loves you

after cait mentions how worried she is, vi starts to notice that you’re not as cheery as before, on top of the eye bags an disheveled appearance that is starting to become your staple look. she’s frustrated with herself for not noticing and taking care of you, and with you a little for not taking care of yourself. cait convinces her to let her try and help first, as someone with a more similar academic experience

caitlyn starts showing up at the academy, at least once every day. she brings food, and coffee, and sometimes she gets jayce, but more often viktor, out of the lab to accompany you. she always takes your hand, dragging you from what you’re doing to sit with her and just talk. she’s subtle about her worry, not wanting you to feel guilty, but wanting to change your habits slowly without you noticing (cait is so conniving i love her)

as the semester continues, you only seem to get worse, despite cait’s best efforts. cait is consistently holding vi back from saying something blunt, because she doesn’t want to upset you, or to cause you to give up on what you love all together out of guilt. in the end, you end up coming to them, having completely exhausted yourself and tilting your last straw

it’s late when you get to the kirraman household, knowing you girlfriends are there. you don’t know what time it is, the sun having set some uncounted number of hours earlier. you knock on the door (even though you know you can just walk in), embarrassed about how bad you’ve let yourself get. cait opens the door and envelops you in a long hug after taking one look at you, standing on her porch in a big sweatshirt, sniffling a bit, unwashed hair piled onto the top of your head

“oh my darling, come inside”

she’s warm and so soft with you, and you’re already feeling better. cait shushes every attempt you make to apologize, for showing up out of nowhere after not really showing up at all for a little while. she brings you up into her room, where vi sits on the end of the bed

vi nearly knocks you to the floor with the force of her hug. she’s strong, and she’s whispering to you about how much she loves you, and how proud she is of you for coming to them for help when you need it, for recognizing that in yourself. her words bring you to tears, and her arms wrap tighter around your torso. you feel cait join in on the hug, tucking you and vi under her chin and squeezing her arms around you both

they bring you to take a bath, and vi gets in first, hissing at the hot temperature of the water. you sit between her thighs, and she wraps her arms around your torso, calloused hands covering your entire stomach. cait sits on the edge of the tub, asking you about your work, and sternly but lovingly detailing how much time you’re allowed to spend at the academy from now on, until you find an appropriate balance between your work and your life. vi hums in agreement with everything cait says, punctuating every particularly harsh sentence with a soft kiss to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder

they leave you in the bathroom to wash your hair in he shower, and when you come out of the bathroom, you’re wearing one of vi’s hoodies from her gym, and cait’s too long pyjama pants, and you look more refreshed than you have since the summer. you look so cuddly and cute that cait starts cooing at you, and you giggle, batting her hands away when she squishes your face

vi is sitting on the bed, manspreading in that way that she does, and she’s smiling softly at her two girls

(NSFW NOW BTW)

“c’mere baby”

and you do, standing between vi’s legs as she wraps her hands around your waist. you lean down to kiss her, and soon enough her tongue is licking at our b otto’s lip, and you’re opening your mouth to let her in, your hands draped loosely around her neck. you sigh into the kiss when vi’s hands starting palming at your hips, your waist

vi pulls you into her, lifting you effortlessly into her lap so you’re straddling her. the kiss gets deeper, and you whine when vi pulls back. she smiles at you, and tilts her head towards the top of the bed

“how pretty is our girlfriend, huh baby?”

you turn to look, and there’s cait, wearing your favourite set of pink lingerie and sitting up against the headboard, hair down and legs spread open only slightly. you flush a bright red when you see her, mouthing parting slightly when you lick your lips. vi bounces you on her lap for a moment when you don’t say anything

“tell her baby”

“cait, you’re gorgeous”

vi leans into mouth at your neck, murmuring to you about keeping your eyes on caitlyn, and you do. you’re still blushing, silly in your position, but you can’t help it, with how caitlyn is staring at you while vi sucks marks into our soft skin. vi shimmies further onto the bed with you, and hooks her hands under your thigh to lay your down softly on the bed, your back pressed to cait’s chest

cait is immediately sweeping your hair to the side and digging her teeth into the side of your neck, causing a sweet little noise to slip out of your mouth. vi groans at the sound, pressing a strong thigh up against you as your hands make purchase on her biceps. cait’s mouth on your neck is teasing, a nip followed by soothing kitten lick, and vi is holding herself up above you, her free hand hooking under your knee to bring your leg up over her hip as she pushes her leg against you more firmly

eventually, you’re getting desperate and whiny, and vi gives in as soon as she hears the first “vi, please,” slip from your beautiful mouth. she pulls your (cait’s) pyjama pants down, panties too, and your immediately rucking your hips into nothing, searching for some friction to help you out. normally, vi is a lot more teasing, but not today

“vi is gonna take care of you, okay sweet girl?”

and vi does. she presses her hands onto the backs of your thighs, pushing them open and up. without any prelude, she gets to it, licking through your wetness and groaning at the taste. you’re arching away from cait, whose one hand has taken to holding your hips in place to help vi, the other tucking itself underneath your (vi’s) hoodie to pluck at your nipples

it takes no time at all for your girlfriends to have you a whimpering, squirming mess, begging to cum. cait is whispering softly to you, hot breath slipping over the shell of your ear, shushing you and telling you how good you’re being for them, how much you deserve to feel good, and could you cum for them, please?

you do, of course. it cracks through you, hips stuttering on vi’s mouth, legs trying to clamp shut but stopped by vi’s strong hands. vi works you through it until you’re whining and pushing at her head, overstimulated. you collapse in heavy breaths, thoroughly sated and exhausted

caitlyn is instantly tugging at you to turn around, head resting on her chest. she pulls you tight to her with a hand on your waist after readjusting your sweatshirt to be comfy. her spare hand comes up to run through your still-damp hair. vi slides your panties back on but abandons the pj pants, kissing her way up your bare legs and rewinding you of how well you’ve done, and again how proud she is

vi tucks herself up behind you, spooning you, arm thrown over both you and cait. that’s how you fall asleep, pressed tightly between the two of them. you drift off instantly, and over your head, vi and caitlyn smile at each other

you don’t overwork yourself again

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-two: Power not Pity

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 22 | next

Series Masterlist

In-ho’s POV

I left the quiet confines of my office and made my way down the hall, the weight of tonight’s task pressing heavily on my chest. The moment had come. The moment I’d been preparing for since the panther mask had dared to make his move. It was no longer about subtlety, about games or manipulation. This was about sending a message—a loud, resounding message.

The VIP room was as opulent as ever, but tonight, it felt like a cage. The usual tension that lingered in the air, thick with whispers of power and influence, seemed more suffocating than usual. I couldn’t afford to have this simmer for any longer.

When I arrived, the panther mask was in the corner, sitting comfortably in one of the plush chairs, looking out over the city through the tall windows. The mask glinted in the dim light, its polished surface reflecting the cold, calculated silence of the room. He hadn’t heard me approach.

I paused at the entrance, my mind already preparing for what was about to unfold. I could feel the growing rage inside me, the need to assert dominance, to remind him and everyone else who ran this world.

“Still hiding behind the mask?” I asked, my voice low but carrying through the room.

He turned his head slightly, the panther mask gleaming in the half-light, but his posture didn’t shift. He was playing it cool, still believing he could control the situation. Typical.

“I don’t hide,” the panther mask said, his voice smooth, almost too casual. “I’ve always been exactly who I’ve claimed to be. It’s you, In-ho, who likes to pretend. Pretend you can control everything. Pretend you hold all the cards.”

I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face—thin, predatory. “You think you’re the one with the cards? Let me remind you who’s holding the deck.”

Before he could react, I was on him in an instant, closing the distance with a speed that caught him off guard. I grabbed him by the collar of his tailored suit, yanking him to his feet, slamming him into the cold marble of the wall with such force that the impact echoed through the empty room.

His eyes, hidden behind the gold mask, widened briefly with shock. For a split second, I saw the uncertainty flicker in them. Good. He should feel it. Fear was the first step to understanding who truly ruled here.

“You should have stayed in your place,” I hissed, tightening my grip on his collar, my voice low and dangerous. “You crossed a line, and now you’re going to pay for it.”

The panther mask struggled briefly, but I didn’t loosen my grip. I could feel the faint tremor in his body, the subtle crack in his bravado. He was trying to regain control, trying to figure out how to twist this into his favor. It was too late for that.

“You think I’ll just sit back while you try to take what’s mine?” I growled, my face inches from his. “You’ve made a dangerous mistake. And I’m here to correct it.”

I saw him swallow, his confidence draining, his breathing growing shallow. The mask was his armor, but underneath it, he was nothing more than a man. And now, he was finally realizing that I wasn’t some shadow in the background. I was the frontman. And when the frontman speaks, people listen.

“You think this is some game, don’t you?” I continued, pressing my body closer, feeling the heat of his fear seeping through the cold mask. “Well, let me make it clear to you, panther. This isn’t a game. This is my world. And you’re just another player—one I can erase in an instant if I so choose.”

His lips parted, perhaps to protest, perhaps to challenge me, but before he could utter a word, I shoved him back. He staggered, but managed to keep his footing, his hands instinctively moving to adjust the mask, trying to regain composure.

“I don’t need to hear your excuses,” I said, my voice like ice. “You’ll stay out of my way, or I’ll make sure you regret ever thinking you could challenge me.”

The panther mask stood there for a moment, still reeling, but then—surprisingly—he straightened up. His pride, his arrogance, it was all coming back to him. He took a step forward, chin raised. He thought he could salvage this.

“You’ve shown your hand, Frontman,” he said, his voice steady, though I could sense the strain beneath it. “But don’t forget—I’m not the only one who holds power here. There are others who will be watching. Others who may not be as… loyal as you think.”

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head at his arrogance. “You think I’m afraid of threats? I’ve built an empire, panther. I’ve torn down those who thought they could bring me down. Do you really think you’re any different?”

Before he could respond, I moved again, grabbing his arm with such force that it cracked against the marble once more. I leaned in, my lips almost touching his ear, and whispered, “You’ll learn your place. And I’ll make sure everyone else learns it too.”

I could feel his body stiffen, the fear now radiating off him in waves. He was beginning to understand—he wasn’t untouchable. No one was.

With one last shove, I threw him back into the chair where he had once sat so confidently. He sat there for a moment, dazed, the mask slipping further down his face. He was broken. His facade had shattered, and he knew it.

“This is your warning,” I said, my voice cold, final. “Don’t ever cross me again.” He wasn’t going to like what would happen to him if he did.

I turned on my heel, the silence in the room deafening in my wake. The panther mask didn’t move. He couldn’t. His mask wasn’t the only thing cracked now.

As I walked away, I felt a grim satisfaction settle in my chest. This was more than just a lesson for him. This was a reminder to every single VIP in this building. Every single person who thought they could challenge me.

The frontman wasn’t a position to be questioned. And anyone who forgot that would be dealt with swiftly.

I stepped out of the VIP room, letting the door close behind me with a soft click. The message had been delivered, loud and clear. The panther mask would think twice before daring to make a move again.

As I made my way back to my office, my mind shifted to the next task. There was still work to be done. But for now, the lesson had been set. A reminder that no one—not even the panther—was above the frontman.

———————

Chapter twenty-two!! Whoa we are getting up there in numbers! Lemme know what you think! Thank you! :)

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[guilty-pleasures21]

Can you do a Jason todd x half dragon reader? (As in, she has wings and a tail, and personally, I imagine that her wings and tail are like a Night Fury's.)

With tooth rotting fluff and wholesome cuddles. And maybe a sun and moon dynamic, but Jason is the sun, and she's the moon? Also, if at all possible, I love it if she acts like a literal cat. Cat eyes and all.

Thank you for your consideration! ❤️

(This is going to become a common opening for me now) Sorry I took so long! I really hope this is what you're looking for! I only realised after I'd finished it that I'd put in a bit of a slow burn instead of an overload of cuddles and fluff, but I think that's because I was focusing more on the sun and moon dynamic 😅. Anyway, if you're not happy with it, just let me know and I can always try again 😅.

Jason Todd x Half-dragon!Reader

Warnings: none.

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

     The Red Hood perched on a rooftop, surveying the darkened alley for any hints of a shady deal. Thankfully, the drug dealers in the area seemed to have taken his threats seriously and stayed away from the routes he knew the teenagers in Gotham frequented on their way to and from the usual hangout spots in the city. Jason pushed himself to his feet, ready to call it a night and head home, but then he spotted something unexpected. He crouched down and watched curiously as something dark and elegant flew through the air, its outline barely illuminated by the moonlight that shone down on … scales? 

     Jason straightened, utterly confused by what he was seeing … but that only drew the strange creature’s attention to him. Jason stepped back as the creature flew towards him, but he knew he was much too slow to escape it if it intended on attacking him. So, he reached for his holster, ready to defend himself if it came to it. But then the creature stepped into the light and Jason found himself even more confused by the sight before him. 

     She stepped forward and studied the strange man curiously. He was wearing some sort of … helmet? A bright red one with little indentations for his eyes, it seemed. It looked quite ridiculous, really, but she supposed that only someone not entirely in his right mind would have been bounding across the rooftops of the city this late at night. 

     Holy shit, she was beautiful! With her (dark/light) and (curly/silky) hair, her smooth and (fair/tanned) skin and her long and toned limbs. And those stunning wings he’d caught a glimpse of before she’d folded them into her back? Wide and dark with just a hint of a shimmer as the moonlight reflected off of her scales. He abandoned his grip on the handle of his gun and clasped his hands behind his back instead, rocking back and forth on his heels as he tried to figure out what to say. 

     “Funny, I … I don’t remember the forecast calling for dragons tonight.” Jason chuckled awkwardly, then immediately berated himself mentally. F*ck. What an idiot! ‘I don’t remember the forecast calling for dragons tonight’? Ugh, she was probably going to set him on fire now and honestly? He completely deserved it. 

     She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him, confused by his relaxed demeanour: people - if they ever managed to catch a glimpse of her in her true form - didn’t usually react in such a manner when they saw her. Usually, they’d start screaming in fear and begging for their lives. Or they’d try to shoot her down and hurt her with any sort of weapon they could find. Both options were horrible in their own way. But this man … He’d … made a joke? 

     Jason folded his arms across his chest and glanced at the ground, growing more nervous with each second of silence that passed. He was just about to open his mouth to let another idiotic sentence spill out when thankfully, she decided to fill in the silence instead. 

     “I don’t remember the forecast calling for little matchsticks running around in the middle of the night,” she retorted calmly, her intense gaze still suspicious. Jason let out a short bark of laughter - much to his own surprise - and relaxed slightly before striding slowly over to her. 

     “Oh, sweetheart,” the strange man chuckled softly, causing an unexpected shiver to run down her spine. “I can assure you: I am not little.” 

     Her eyes widened with surprise at his crude comment, but she couldn’t deny the curious warmth that bloomed in her stomach at his suggestion. She took a step back, nervous to be confronted by such an unfamiliar feeling, and stumbled when her foot met nothing but air. She reached out, her arms flailing desperately as she tried to catch her balance, then she found herself pressed up against a broad chest, her fingers grazing hard muscles as the strange man held her close to him. She held her breath as her heart thudded rapidly in her chest, her body heating up with excitement at their sudden proximity, then she ducked out from beneath his grasp, putting some much needed distance between them. 

     “I-I … T-Thank you,” she stammered out, studiously avoiding his gaze, “but … you know I can fly, right?” 

     He grinned beneath his helmet, delighted by how flustered he seemed to have made her, but his own breath caught in his throat when she finally looked up at him again with wide eyes. Shit, she was gorgeous. 

     “Oh, I know that,” he reassured her, his arms still folded across his chest so she wouldn’t forget how large and strong they were, “but you looked like you forgot that for a second there.” 

     He took a step towards her, bringing them close to each other again, then he bent over to murmur softly to her. “Unless … you were just looking for an excuse to get me closer to you?” 

     She sucked in a breath and clenched her fists by her sides, outraged by the accusation. But damn, she looked cute, a soft little blush colouring her cheeks without her even realising it. Jason snickered softly, thrilled by her adorable and unwitting reaction, but suddenly, he felt a sharp sting in the back of his head. 

     “Ow!” the man exclaimed, clutching the back of his helmet where she’d just smacked him with her tail. He straightened and spread his arms wide, shooting her what she could only imagine was an incredulous look beneath his helmet. “This is the thanks I get for helping you out? Shit. What the hell do you do to people who actually try to hurt you, princess?” 

     She bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed by how rude she’d been - but the hint of laughter in his tone let her know that he wasn’t really bothered by her reaction. 

     “Sorry,” she apologised, reaching out to curl her fingers around his bicep and rub her thumb against his arm. Jason held his breath, terrified that even the slightest movement might cause her to pull away again. But thankfully, his easy demeanour seemed to have put her at ease. “I … I’m just not used to … to people … being nice to me.” 

     Jason swallowed down the sudden lump that had formed in his throat and reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

     “That’s all right,” he reassured softly, his voice so gentle and understanding. Then he bent over again slightly, leaning towards her like he was about to share a secret with her. “To tell you the truth, I don’t really know what that’s like either.” 

     She lowered her head as a snort of amusement escaped her mouth and Jason felt his heart melt at the sight of the cute little smile that lit up her face. She bit her lip, barely suppressing her smile, then let her fingers drift down to his forearm as she considered her next words. 

     “Well …” she began slowly, hesitating before speaking the words out loud. “Maybe … we could … figure it out … together?” 

     Her heart thudded rapidly in her chest as she waited for his answer. She didn’t know why, but something about this man just made her feel … comfortable. And that wasn’t a feeling she’d felt … ever? She dug her fingers into his arm as she chewed on her lip nervously, then she quickly released her grip on him, dropping her hand back to her side. “I mean-”

     “I’d like that!” Jason replied quickly, not giving her the chance to take it back. He knew how out of character it was for him to let someone in so quickly, but … there was just something about her that drew him to her. Maybe it was just that she knew what it was like to be outcast by society; to be forced into the darkness where no one would ever be able to hurt her. But whatever it was, he found himself curious to find out. 

     “I …” Jason began, trying to figure out how to contact her again. He scanned his surroundings, searching for some sort of idea, then it struck him. “Do you know that old bookshop on the corner of Apple and Kyle? The one run by that old man who’s just, like, somehow immune to every crazy thing that goes on in Gotham?” 

     She let out a soft laugh at his description and again, his heart melted into a warm puddle. 

     “I know the place,” she replied, doing her best to dampen the wide smile tugging on the corners of her lips. He was cute, but … she didn’t really know anything about him, so it was probably best if she continued to keep her guard up. At least until they got to know each other a little better. And besides, what if he turned out to be absolutely hideous beneath that helmet of his?! 

     “Great!” the man exclaimed, his enthusiasm starting to rub off on her. And he had such a nice voice - surely someone with such a smooth and buttery voice couldn’t be that hideous, right? “I’ll meet you there tomorrow night? Say … ten pm?” 

     It was late enough that most people would be off the streets, but not so late that she wouldn’t be able to get some rest before whatever she had planned for the next day. She flushed at his thoughtfulness and holy f*ck, that smile was going to lead him to some bad decisions someday soon. 

     “Sure,” she agreed, her tail flicking back and forth behind her with what he could only assume was excitement. Jason’s chest warmed at the thought and he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

     Her tail flicked lazily over the sofa, occasionally brushing against Jason while they watched a movie on his television. It had turned into a weekly ritual - making popcorn and putting on an old movie from a list they’d found online. They’d been hanging out for a few weeks now and X had gradually allowed herself to become comfortable in his presence, letting more and more of her dragon traits show around and interact with him. He’d never bring it up for the fear that she might change her mind and retract into herself again, but he knew how important it was that she was willing to share that part of her with him. 

     “Okay, but, why is he building a death ray on a boat?” Jason asked, lifting one arm from where he’d slung it over the back of the sofa to gesture to the TV in confusion. “Is he planning to, like, kill the ocean or something?” X bit down on a smile, refusing to encourage his embarrassingly cringy sense of humour, and took a moment to smooth her features back into a neutral expression before replying. 

     “Killing the ocean is quite a serious crime,” X pointed out calmly. “You would destroy entire ecosystems and cause massive damage to the Earth. It is quite a brutally vicious plan, I must admit.” Jason narrowed his eyes at the hint of approval he thought he could hear in her otherwise emotionless tone. But he knew she was just teasing him: he could see the tiny curl at the ends of her lips as she chewed gracefully on her popcorn and the way she kept trailing the tip of her tail across the back of his neck and shoulders was a dead giveaway that she wasn’t being serious. It was something she’d started doing quite often lately, but she never seemed to notice when she was doing it - like it was some involuntary reflex she wasn’t aware of or something. But that only made it all the more torturous; how she didn’t even seem to realise the effect she was having on him. He’d had to excuse himself to the bathroom numerous times on multiple occasions and she probably thought he had some bladder infection or something by now. 

     “Careful, princess,” Jason warned her, leaning forward to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl she’d perched carefully on her lap, “you’re starting to sound like you’re impressed by him.” 

     X lowered her head as the smile overtook her features entirely. She still wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he genuinely had no idea what effect it had on her whenever he made his voice all low and breathy like that. Surely a man as large and confident as him had to know how attractive he was! But … X snuck a glance at Jason, his attention back on the movie now, and recalled all the things he’d told her about what he’d been through so far. He probably didn’t have the room to think about shallow things like that. X cleared her throat, pushing the inappropriate thoughts out of her mind, and shuffled a little closer to her friend, closing the minute sliver of distance that remained between them. 

     “Well, his plan is rather creative,” she admitted, always so thoughtful with her words. “If it truly even is his plan anyway. It’s a rather intelligent one, capable of causing great damage. I must applaud him for it.” 

     Jason curled his fingers around her wrist immediately - like she was actually going to raise her hands and start clapping for him - and X’s breath hitched in her throat when she turned to face him and saw how close his beautiful moss-green eyes suddenly were to hers. “Mmm, you really don’t have to, princess. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t applaud a mass murderer for, well, mass murdering. Or trying to, anyway. I promise!”

     And she laughed - a full-on cackle that started in her belly and poured out of her mouth and into his ears. Jason grinned at the sound, always so happy whenever he managed to provoke the rare reaction out of her. She was always so serious - so carefully composed - and he loved it when he managed to fluster her enough to make her take an even longer pause between her sentences or just lose control entirely. 

     She glanced up at him and stopped suddenly when she saw that he was watching her. She quickly settled back into her seat, focusing her attention on her popcorn so he wouldn’t see the blush she could feel lighting up her cheeks. But when she slid her gaze over to him, he was still looking at her with that admittedly handsome smile on his rugged features. 

     She picked up a kernel of popcorn and popped it into her mouth, but it did nothing to hide the shy little smile tugging insistently on her lips. Shit, she was so! Cute! He wished she’d just hurry up and make a move on him already. He was pretty sure that she liked him in the same way that he liked her, but he’d come to know her well enough to know that any attempts to initiate a … more intimate relationship on his part would only end up scaring her off. But he could be patient - it wasn’t like he’d ever met anyone who’d made him feel so … comfortable before, so at ease with himself. X pulled her legs back up onto the sofa, resuming her straight-backed, cross-legged position. But her tail continued to run across his body and the grin continued to stay stretched across his face as they watched the rest of the movie. 

     Jason moved fluidly between the large metallic crates of the docks, taking out thugs left and right. They’d gotten a tip about one of Falcone’s new shipments coming in that night and he, Dick and Tim had volunteered to go after it. 

     “All that money and this is the best Falcone could get?” Jason joked, easily knocking out yet another goon. “I could take these guys out in my sleep!” 

     “Careful what you wish for, Hood,” Tim warned him, tossing aside another two goons trying to stop them on their way to their target. He clapped his hands together, dusting them off, then joined up with Jason when he turned the corner. 

     “Yeah, this seems a little … underwhelming,” Dick pointed out, still holding onto his escrima sticks as they approached the containers they’d been looking for. Jason shrugged, already thinking about what he and X could do with the extra few hours he had now that their mission had ended so early. Maybe they could watch another movie? But they always watched movies. She liked watching movies though. And he liked the quiet moments with her, their bodies brushing up against each other as they cuddled up together on his sofa - yes, they’d reached the cuddling stage. But she still wouldn’t confess her feelings to him! 

     “Ah, shit,” Tim sighed suddenly, breaking into Jason’s thoughts. Jason looked up and let out a tired huff when he found more than a dozen thugs slipping out of the shadows and surrounding them: ‘shit’ was right. He glanced over at his brothers, a moment of silent understanding passing between them, then the three of them dove into the fray. 

     “Did Falcone … get a cloning machine … or something?!” Dick yelled as he tried to stave off a seemingly never-ending stream of thugs. Jason didn’t respond, too focused on trying to defend himself from the group swarming him. But his efforts were futile and he soon found himself struggling to stay on his feet. 

     “What the f*ck?!” one of the goons yelled, dropping his baton as he stared at the sky in shock. The others turned to follow his gaze and panicked when they saw a strange creature swooping through the sky towards them. It blocked out the night sky with its large, bat-like wings and flicked goons away from them with its long, agile tail. 

     “What the hell is that?!” Tim screeched, trying to come up with a plan to deal with the terrifyingly powerful creature after they’d managed to overpower the army of thugs. It was official: Hell was empty and all the demons were in Gotham. 

     “That’s my friend!” Jason yelled back quickly, fighting to get to X’s side before either of his brothers could even think about hurting her. Dick nodded in understanding, convinced by the relief evident in Jason’s voice, and finally allowed himself to turn his back to X. Jason brought the handle of his gun down on the last goon standing between him and his friend, then he rushed forward to help her. “Took you long enough, princess. I was worried you weren’t going to show up this time.” 

     X felt her cheeks heat up at his mischievous tone as she swiped her tail at the last few stragglers of the pack, easily knocking them off their feet, and her eyes widened with horror when she heard a giggle escape her own mouth - a giggle! What was the world coming to?! She cleared her throat quickly, hoping Jason hadn’t heard it, and smoothed her expression before turning around to face him. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his head tilted down to her slightly, and she just knew that he was wearing one of those smug grins he’d flash her every time he managed to provoke such unseemly reactions out of her. She rolled her eyes and cast her gaze to the ground as she waited for the flush to dissipate from her cheeks … but now she’d gotten the image of his smile stuck in her head! And Gods, he always looked so handsome when he smiled. 

     Jason’s heart thudded rapidly in his chest as he watched her try to hide her adorable reaction to him. She’d started joining him on his missions a few weeks ago, swooping out of nowhere just when he thought he was going to be overpowered by whichever lowlives he was fighting that night, and he couldn’t not look into it, right? Look into what it meant that she’d fly around the city, keeping an eye on him even when he’d told her they wouldn’t be able to hang out that night because he’d gotten stuck on another mission? Always saving his skin exactly when he needed her? 

     “Hey,” Dick greeted X cheerfully, holding a hand out to her in greeting. “Nice to meet you, friend of Jason! I’m Dick - his insufferably-better-than-him-in-every-way older brother.” 

     X studied his hand carefully as Jason punched his brother in the arm, still cautious about interacting so closely with anyone. But Jason seemed to trust him, so she was sure that she could too. She reached out and hesitantly took hold of his hand, shaking it gently before releasing it and burying herself into Jason’s side. 

     Jason grinned happily beneath his mask as he reached an arm around her waist and ran his fingers along her reassuringly. She’d been so averse to human touch when they’d first started hanging out, always so careful to keep at least an inch of space between them. He’d respected her boundaries though, silently reassuring her that she could trust him enough to allow herself to be vulnerable with him, and soon, she’d be seeking him out, quietly sauntering over to him and curling up against his side no matter what he might have been doing right then. He’d jumped at the opportunity at first, eagerly wrapping his arm around her and running his fingers along her surprisingly soft body, but she’d practically hissed at him the first time it had happened and he’d quickly learned that she had to be the one to ask for it first. Honestly, she was more like a cat than a dragon, sometimes. 

     “I’m Tim!” Tim introduced himself, coming up beside Dick. “The objectively best brother out of us all.” X let out a little snort at his declaration and Jason narrowed his eyes at his brother beneath his helmet, suddenly overcome with a wave of jealousy. But then X pressed herself deeper into his side and that victorious smirk returned to his lips. 

     “So, we done for the night? Great. See you tomorrow.” Jason waved them off as he spun X around to where he’d parked his bike and X snickered softly when she heard Tim and Dick’s exclamations of confused outrage behind them. 

     “So,” Jason began, getting onto his motorcycle, “you wanna get some ice cream, princess? As a thank you for saving my life? Again?” 

     X fiddled with the helmet he’d handed her, taking a moment to examine the rush of delight that swept through her at the thought of laughing over ice cream with him. She liked spending time with him - loved it, in fact - but she still couldn’t figure out why he seemed to enjoy it so much too. She didn’t have much to offer him, after all, with her strange build and her serious demeanour and her quiet nature. But he always seemed so happy when he was with her; so relaxed, like there was something about her that made him feel comfortable enough to just be himself. “Is there anywhere that sells ice cream this late?” 

     Jason sucked in a breath as her hands travelled up his body, running along his chest before landing on his shoulders and gripping onto them. Then he shook his head and forced himself back down to reality. “Uh, yeah! McDonald’s is open twenty four hours, right?” 

     X squeezed his shoulders gently in agreement and the two of them sped off into the night.

     X tucked her wings tightly against her back as she took a careful step into the darkened warehouse. Jason had sent her a text earlier cancelling their usual movie date and asking her to meet him at one of his secret warehouses by the docks instead. His message had been vague, so she didn’t know what to expect once she’d arrived, but … she trusted him. X stopped just inside the entrance and was about to shift her eyes so she could look into the darkness, but then a light ‘click’ sounded and suddenly, the room was illuminated by strings of fairy lights draped elegantly from the rafters and around the beams. X smiled as she surveyed the wide, open space, and her delight only grew when she saw a cosy little nook in the corner decorated with piles of pillows and blankets and a projector set up to display movies on a blank wall. 

     “So, what do you think?” Jason asked from behind her. X turned around to face him and found him rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for her reaction.

     “What is this, Jay?” she breathed, that adorable little smile still stretched across her normally stoic features. Shit, he loved her smile. 

     “I-” he paused to clear his throat, trying to get rid of some of the nervous energy running through his veins: he’d never done such a big gesture for anyone before. But he’d never liked anyone as much as he liked her! Ugh! “I made it. For you. So you wouldn’t need to worry about people spotting you anymore anytime you wanted a flight.” 

     Oh Gods. She wasn’t completely certain, having never experienced such an emotion before, but she was quite sure that she was in love with him. He was just so sweet and so thoughtful, always so patient and gentle with her. X reached up to wipe away a stray tear before it could fall down her cheek, then she clutched her hands close to her chest and took a step towards him. 

     Jason rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly, unused to the adoring look on her face. It wasn’t that she’d never hinted to him how she might have felt about him, it was just that she always kept such a tight hold on her emotions, never letting anything she felt show on her face. He waited patiently as she continued to walk slowly to him, until finally, she’d buried herself in his chest, snuggling up against him and waiting expectantly for him to slide his arms around her. Jason chuckled softly and did as she wanted, wrapping her up comfortably against him. 

     “Why …” X pulled back from him slightly, a little confused, but still with that smile lighting up her face. “Why would you do all this for me, Jason?” 

     “Because I like seeing you happy,” he replied easily, as if the answer was as simple as that. “It makes me happy.” 

     “But …” X paused to giggle softly and Jason’s heart swelled at the way she let it linger instead of quickly swallowing it down like she usually did. “But that’s so silly!” 

     “Why is it silly?” Jason asked, bending over to brush his nose lightly against hers. X laughed again and slid her arms around his neck, letting the front of her body brush up against his. 

     “Because … Because it’s not fair,” she pointed out, stretching onto her toes to rest her head on his shoulder. “How can I make you so happy when I don’t even do anything?! I’m just … I’m so boring!” 

     She pulled back to look at him, her lips pushed out into a cute little pout, and Jason let out another soft chuckle. “You are not boring, X. You like the same music as me, the same movies as me, you’re killer at bowling and you fight even better than Dick!” 

     Her chest warmed at the face that he hadn’t mentioned her dragon abilities at all: he liked her. Half-dragon or not, he would have liked her anyway, it seemed. X lowered her head as her cheeks flushed with happiness then, before she could second guess herself, she bounced up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. 

     Jason let out a muffled exclamation of surprise, caught off guard by the sudden action. Then he bent over to make it easier for her to reach his mouth. X giggled softly as she kissed him and he didn’t know how much time had passed when they finally pulled away from one another. 

     “So … you wanna watch a movie?” Jason suggested, gesturing to the cosy corner he’d set up for them. X nodded eagerly and pulled him over to the pile of pillows before pushing him down and settling herself in his arms. 

     “Should we watch a romcom tonight?” she asked, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. Jason grinned and leaned forward to give her a few quick pecks on the lips. 

     “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

[volatilebrat4103]

Vi x Reader Head canons

This is the first time I have ever written HC's so I really hope it doesn't suck too badly

Request: may I request vi x nerdybutch!reader headcanons pls? (reader is super into Sci fi and fantasy genres)

(Feedback is appreciated - good or bad)

When Caitlyn suggested Vi meet a close friend of hers from another high-class family Vi was having none of it, but after way to much begging from Cait she caved although extremely wary of you and your status. She arranged for you all to meet at the last drop to make Vi feel more comfortable

Vi had already painted a bad picture of you before you even met, firstly you being late to the meet up, making snarky comments to Cait about ‘Pilties think they are too good to be on time’ and such

She had expected some stuck up snobby rich girl too prim and proper to walk through the doors of the surprisingly empty bar instead you leave her gobsmacked

Instead of a snob that she’d want to smack, she found herself a blushing mess when you walked in being the complete opposite, instead a tall handsome woman with short slicked back hair adorning a men’s academy uniform, who didn’t believe nor care about status or norms

She spent the whole day lost in your presence as you ramble on about some cool book you found about ancient lore as well as a few novels

After that day she would visit you everyday where she would sit for hours on end listening to you ramble on about all the newest novels your parents had bought for you.  Half of the time she wouldn’t even register what you were saying as she would stare lovingly enjoying the sound of your voice and your presence (you being her eye candy was a bonus)

The two of you grew closer quickly, Vi often staying the night where she would fall asleep to your voice reading out both of your favourite novel, more often then not wrapped up in your strong arms.

One day whilst you were ranting about a crappy ending to a story you were reading when Vi surged forward to kiss you leaving you stunned – ‘you’re cute when you rambling’ , After that day the two of you made it official

You would often ask Vi to tell you stories from the undercity, cuddled up to her as she runs hands through your short locks

She absolutely loves having your arms around her no matter where you are

Even though she is already feared for her reputation it gets worse with you and she finds it hard to comprehend how her cute, nerdy girlfriend is her scary dog privilege

You are both very, VERY protective over each other

You both pay attention to detail with one another.  Hear her talking about a cool jacket it’s hers by the end of the day.  If she sees you looking at something for even a minute consider it yours.  Mention how you always wanted to have a certain pastry for your birthday, done, she will make a plan and go to the ends of runeterra to get it.

You are surprisingly more stubborn than her and sometimes it causes fights between the two of you

Once you cool off from a fight and take time to reflect on it, you get her an apology gift (usually a sweet treat and flowers) and profusely apologise which more often than not leads to some ‘private time’ to properly express your regrets *wink wink*

Lets face it…she is a total bottom which surprises everyone till they see you

If she is having a bad day she will crawl into bed with you for you to read to her and play with her hair. If it’s a really bad day she will ensure she has skin to skin contact, you voice soothing her worries away.

Everyone always complains about the two of you being sappy, with her being a total flirt she always leaves you a flustered mess

She loves stealing your clothes, jackets, shirts anything as long as it smells like you

She gets annoyed with you having an abundance of books and work laying scattered all over your room and house, always tripping over said books or projects for school.  So being whipped, you use your technical skills to build shelving and storage for your stuff, and Vi being the pervert she is watched you and how your sweaty body moved around and your muscles flexed when working.

You let Vi design a tattoo for you and even get small matching ones

she was always curious to see you wearing tight and exposing clothes (Seeing as your nerdy ass is only seen in baggy clothes or your academy uniform) so one day she pulls out the puppy dog eyes and gets you into one of her tank tops which has her drooling.  From that day forward she began to change your wardrobe.

Although she is an absolute bottom…she is a total munch and you absolutely love having her on her knees for you

You are both extremely kinky which did initially surprise her as you seem so innocent

You genuinely laugh at her bad jokes, some might not like her humour, but she is perfect to you

She is a huge softie even though she is rough and tough (and will definitely knock you to next week) she also loves how you are so gentle and patient with her

 She loves teaching you about the undercity and taking you sight seeing

She is shocked how you always say the undercity is beautiful and how you explain every little detail you love about it, it makes her fall more inlove with you

She is your personal chef, even taking the time to teach you how to cook

When you get stuck on an assignment or project she is always there to calm you down, taking the time out of her day to help you solve it.  Her intelligence is one of the many things you love about her and absolutely hate when people assume she is stupid

Your family take some time to accept Vi thinking that she is just using you and the family, but once they realise she isn’t she becomes one of you with your parents always eager to have her over

Touch and words of affermaiton are both of your love languages

You always help her shave the side of her hair when it gets too long, your were nervous at first but she always reassures you

you design a necklace for her in honour of Jinx/Powder and she never takes it off

you learnt very quickly into your relationship how to read her and know exactly what she needs, whether it be needing comfort after a long day or a sweet treat whilst she is on her period you just knew what she needed

when she gets into fights you always give her a lecture but clean her up and make sure she is okay. Very seldom does she give you the same treatment (and teases you mocking your lectures)

Further into your relationship she would complain about the 'library' of books and collectables you have gotten saying its too much yes if you there was one you wanted she wouldn't hesitate to get it for you

She is the jealous type and hates how oblivious you are to people flirting with you

[mamawasatesttube]

Do you think Tim ever had one of those moments where once he realised he was bi, he reflected on how he felt about Kon, and realised it was a crush? In retrospect?

HMMM. ive been sitting on this and pondering. and ... kinda?

but the thing to me about tim, his feelings for kon, and his bisexual realizations, is that they are all tied up in one big tangled knot. he's been in love with kon for years without realizing it; he had a crush on kon in his yj days (guy who is constantly going "what is kon's opinion of me. i need kon to respect me and likeys me and think i'm a good leader. for normal reasons" ok tim), but even after he eventually figures out he's bi, he doesn't realize that that's what he felt for kon, because that crush has developed over the years into full-blown adoration, and he... uh... didn't notice.

like, by the time kon dies and tim goes off the deep end and tries to clone him 99 times, tim is head over heels. it's just that tim has not noticed that he's in love with kon at all. to him, it's just - this is normal, right? he has a huge depth of feelings for his best friend, and that's how he's always felt about kon. when he thought he was going to die on apokolips, he just wished he could have reconciled with kon. that's normal for him. that's baseline. right? this is a normal way for a guy to feel about his best friend. and yeah, tim is bisexual, but after ives he just kind of doesn't really seriously date any other guys, because, like... he could, and maybe he goes on a single date here or there, but there's always this little thought in the back of his head that, like, none of the other guys he meets are as hot and funny and smart and kind as kon. man, guess having a best friend who's a 12/10 really just sets his standards high, huh?

like i just think tim's feelings for kon are such a huge part of his life for so long that the actual nature of them and the depth of them kinda just creeps up on him. it happens so gradually and is such a deep and abiding love by the time they're adults that he doesn't notice for a long time. because he's always adored kon, and by the time kon died and came back, tim already knew he loved him so so so much that living in a world without him felt unbearable. the fact that that love turned romantic somewhere along the line? he has no idea!!! he doesn't even know he's bisexual when that happens, so he's just so used to that being "how he feels about kon, his boy best friend" that he takes forever to realize he is, in fact, in love with him.

but yeah eventually he does put together that, ah, he has been into kon for an embarrassingly long time. without noticing. oop! he's going to go sit on a rooftop and brood and wonder if anyone else noticed before he did (most people who know him did).

[hannahbarberra162]

Imagine Thatch Reassuring You (Thathch x Reader, fluff)

WC: ~1.3k

TW: reader is insecure / having a bad body image day / unspecified reason for not liking seeing themselves in the mirror

Kinda NSFW, no sex happens but it's mentioned.

You were straddling your boyfriend’s massive lap on his couch, grinding on him as the two of you enjoyed another sloppy makeout session. As the Fourth Division Commander, Thatch had little downtime and the two of you liked to use it as best you could. Today Thatch was off for lunch service, leaving the two of you a delicious swath of time during the middle of the day together. You were already topless, your preferred way to be when alone, while Thatch had his clothes on.

You had one arm looped behind his neck and your other hand gripping his firm chest, while his own hands roved over your body, seemingly always returning to your ass. Thatch broke the kiss and started giving open kisses to your neck, making you sigh. Sex with Thatch was the best you’d ever had and not just due to your physical attraction to him. You felt connected, loved, and protected even when he was spanking or punishing you. He always left you with the sense that you were someone he cherished, someone he couldn’t live without. You weren’t sure why someone as incredible as him felt that way about someone like you, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The two of you hadn’t exchanged “I love you’s” yet but you knew how you felt about the chef.

“I wanna try something new today,” Thatch murmured into your skin, one large arm spanning your upper back.

“Oh? Something new, hm? Alright,” you said with a giggle. Something new meant something fun - nipple clamps or anal plugs or being bound in a new way. You were game for all of it, you felt safe with Thatch and trusted his judgement. Thatch picked you off his lap and set you down on the couch, making you pout. 

“Ha, don’t worry. I won’t be gone long,” Thatch said, blowing you a kiss. You weren’t being too bratty yet, you didn’t think he was going to punish you for that. Thatch left his cabin, his massive erection pushing against the fabric of his pants. He was gone for less than a minute before he reappeared with a large freestanding mirror. Your brow furrowed and you frowned as you looked over the mirror. Thatch set it down facing the couch and plopped back down next to you.

“C’mere, I wanna show you something,” he purred at you, pulling you back into his lap. This time he had you facing the mirror as he began rolling your nipples in his large fingers. You turned your head to the side, ignoring the image in front of you completely.

“No, I want you to watch yourself in the mirror,” he chided, his hand grabbing your jaw and turning your head to face the reflection.

“Well, I don’t,” you stated flatly, twisting your head to look at the side of his cabin. “I don’t like this. Can you take it away? I wanna keep going but I don’t wanna look at…all that,” you said with a curl of your lip, waving your hand in the direction of the mirror. You didn’t want to use your safe word but if he wanted you to watch yourself you would. You saw Thatch give you a sad look from the corner of your eye. He turned you around so you were facing his front and away from the mirror.

“You don’t want to watch me?” he asked with hurt in his voice, a finger stroking down your cheek.

“What? No, no! I love looking at you, it’s not that. You’re the most attractive person I’ve ever been with, I can’t get enough of you. I don’t want to watch myself,” you said, disgust tinging the last word. You would never want Thatch to think he wasn’t incredible in every way, the thought that you’d hurt his feelings had you changing your tune immediately.  Thatch frowned and cupped your face in his hands, completely engulfing your cheeks in a tender caress. You tried to pull away again, this was getting a little too emotional for you. But Thatch’s gaze and hands didn’t waver and didn’t let you recede either.

“That’s…sad. We won’t do this if you don’t want to - I’ll put the mirror away. But it makes me upset to think you don’t see yourself like I do. I’m going to turn you around but we’re not going to fool around or have sex, OK? Please?” Thatch asked softly, finishing with a chaste kiss to your lips. You were still frowning but gave a small nod. Thatch turned you around so that you were both facing the mirror again but this time you used your hands to cover your breasts. It felt too raw to be emotionally open and naked at the same time.

“Do you know what I see?” Thatch asked, leaning his chin on your shoulder. You closed your eyes while he was waiting for your answer. He nuzzled into your neck, so close his stubble was rubbing your sensitive neck. 

“Look, just for a moment. See what I see,” Thatch whispered imploringly, his arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush against his hairy chest. You leaned your head back against him seeking the warm comfort of his embrace. Protection, really, against the harsh reality of what you saw in the mirror. You cracked open your eyes to see your sweet, caring boyfriend and the all too familiar image of yourself in the mirror. After tucking your hair behind your ear, Thatch starts to speak.

“I see someone wholly, completely, and utterly wonderful. I see someone who is the best thing that’s come into my life since I set sail with Whitebeard decades ago. I see someone who isn’t perfect  - you’ve lived a life like anyone else. You have your flaws and your quirks but that doesn’t make you anything but human. You’re not perfect but you're perfect for me,” Thatch said softly, rubbing your sides. You were crying a little bit, your chin wobbling as Thatch soothed your turbulent feelings. Still, you held the image of Thatch comforting you in your eyes as he continued.

“Ace was annoying Marco the other day on deck asking if Marco would love him if he was a worm. I didn’t even have to think for a second. I’d love you if you were a worm, if you were a spider, if you lost a limb, if your tits hung to the floor, I wouldn’t care. None of that matters. What matters is you. Your body is only one part of you, and I love it too. But there's so much more I love about you. I love your smile, your attitude, your morning breath, your intelligence, your sense of humor," he continued, kissing your temple. Now you were truly crying, your tears running down your cheeks. 

“Do you know why?” Thatch asked, kissing away a tear. You shook your head, unsure if your voice would hold for words.

“Because I love you,” he said simply, turning your face to his with one of his hands. 

“Even like th-iis?” you said, voice cracking. You were sure you looked a mess, you’d been told you were an ugly crier as a child and it had always been another insecurity.

“Like this,” he confirmed without hesitation. You uncovered your breasts and turned halfway in his lap so you were facing him.

“I love you too,” you said, looking into his eyes. Leaning forward, you grabbed his shoulders to pull him towards you, kissing him with everything in your soul.

~~~ Later~~~

Reader: So, would you love Ace if he was a worm? 🧐🧐🧐

Thatch: Absolutely not. I’d feed him to Marco. (he wouldn't).

@mfreedomstuff

[ladypiscesmoon]

Year ahead Timothée Chalamet & Armie Hammer

(Ask me anything you want to know about the reading)

Overall 2025 (Lenormand)

The moon, the garden, the bouquet Combinations: -Being recognized in public -Gaining notoriety all over the world - Influencing a group -Your social group influencing you -Showing people how social you are. -Intuitively gifted - Influencing someone with gifts -Swaying someone with your values. -Keeping up appearances for social reasons -Enjoying becoming a socialite. Thoughts: -The bouquet is often associated with the Spring. I do feel things will be going into a better direction between them in the Spring. -Until we do I think we are going to see Timmy on his PR journey, and Armie being trying to be true to himself.

The crossroads, the lily, the fish

Combinations: -Crossroads can represent two people, in this reading Armie and Timmy -The card can also mean that the situation will only progress once you make some clear-cut decisions.  -Choices over sex -Choosing peace -Pick the older person -Choosing the person/situation which causes you less stress. -Business decisions -Choosing money -Deciding to be fluid Thoughts: -Standing at a crossroad, making choices -Making choices together -Timmy with Armie (older person) -PR will end, although it's always unclear when exactly in Tarot (things are not always fixed in Tarot)

The bear, the rider, the dog

Combinations -Strength, power, heavy, lifestyle, force -News, messages, what approaches, what is leaving -Respect for authority -Obeying an authority figure -support of a mother -Follow a lifestyle. -Friends, loyalty, respect, confidants, followers, pets. -Friends bring messages -Visits from a friend -Acts which prove how loyal someone is to you. Thoughts: -For the last few years I have seen a dog for them, but because they separated it didn't come up again. They might get a dog or -something after they are reunited. -They will build their home together -Support from friends and some family (although I don't think Armie's mother will respect their relationship)

Month to month

January

10 of wands (burn-out, uphill battle, taken for granted) Coffee cup (meeting and conversing, savoring the moment, feeling uplifted, friendship) Take your power back (you are giving someone control over how you feel, your happiness should only depend on you) Thoughts: Wanting to meet up or at least call, feeling low and exhausted. I feel this is more Timmy than Armie. He has given away the control over his own happiness and he should take it back. Only then he will have the chance prove Armie he's not taking him for granted. Things are still strained

February

The hermit (soul searching, solitude, contemplation) The grim reaper (the relationship is over. No second chances. Grow and transform your life) Open yourself to others (this is how you will create new friendships and attract a love relationship) Thoughts: Timmy thinks he has lost Armie for good, but he will get him back if he is honest to him and opens up about what made him make those terrible decisions last year. He just has to go within and think through how he can make things better between them and Armie will give him a second chance.

March

The emperor (dependability, authority, structure) Mirror (mirroring each other, self-image, relationships, reflect our wounds, introspection) Engagement (your love life is soon ascending to a high level of commitment) Thoughts This could be the month they will start communicating to each other again, mirroring each other as ever. If they will, they have really have to be open and honest with each other and they will feel better again.

April

Page of swords (curious, clever, chatty) Ax (break up, separation, stop the pattern, silent treatment, abandonment) Be optimistic (keep in mind that you create your reality, you can't attract love with a negative mindset) Thoughts Doing their best not to assume the worst, trying to. break the former pattern of not taking everything through, trying to stay optimistic

May

The Star (faith, renewal, healing) The sword and the rose(clarity, truth, revelation, solidarity, force, honor, protection, power) Magnetic connection (there is a very strong pull and intensity that draws you to this person) Thoughts -healing and feeling the strong connection and pull to each other

June

king of swords (intelligent, head over heart, logical) photograph (looking at your photos, missing you, nostalgia, make new memories) past lives (you have known this person before, it's a soul mate from a past life-time) Thoughts: thinking practical about their future making new memories together they know each other from past lives

July

7 of wands (connection, defiance, stand your ground) engagement ring (engagement, partnership, commitment, eternity, completion, union) they are the one (you have already met the romantic partner you seek) Thoughts Just feeling this is the one and having each others back. Maybe thinking of the next step, like moving in with each other August

The fool (innocence, new beginnings, leap of faith) passion (insane chemistry, like each other equally, having fun) You are enough (the person you are meant to be with will love you the way you are. You don't need to change) Thoughts: definitely thinking about the next step. Wanting to have pets/living together.

September

The empress (nurturing, fairness, growth) Love (unconditional love, self-love, oneness, passion, affection, attraction) third party situation (other people may interfering with this relationship and dimming its potential Thoughts: Staying strong together, even if people are trying to break them up. Having each others back. Loving the connection

October

king of coins reversed (corrupt, greedy, materialistic) sunglasses (watching, looking, stalking, gaslighting, perception, focusing out) make the effort (this love is worth taking risks, you are called to move forward) Thoughts: People trying to come between them, maybe false accusations, or blackmail, people stalking them. They have to stick together and it will pass

November

the sun (success, optimism, openness) twin flames (yin and yang, zen, balance, union, duality, coupling complement each other) nothing has gone wrong (trust the process, this connection is divinely timed) Thoughts They are stronger together. They are exactly where they should be. Divine connection, twin flames.

December

10 of swords (traumatic events, playing the victim, immense pain) love call (someone expresses love, a message of love, thinking of you and letting you know) have faith (the angels are working behind the scene to make this relationship flourish.) Thoughts: Someone is losing a family member, or this family member is very ill? Focus elsewhere but still staying strong

What could be potential blocks for them to freely love each other?

Trust issues both are suffering from this and they have to move on from it. Talk it out and tell each other where they come from and how they can move forward Low self esteem I think Armie has learned to forgive himself for his mistakes and also in therapy learned to love himself more. I think Timmy still has issues with that. He has to grow a bit, still, but he's getting there. Believing everyone leaves and feeling onlovable I would saty this is more Armie than Timmy, I think Armie has to convince himself he's worth loving. These are his old issues, but he's very lovable. He shouldn't be afraid Self blame I feel Timmy has to move on from blaming himself to not making the right choices, especially last year and especially in love. He has to forgive himself for his own mistakes Feeling incomplete They both don't feel complete without the other. They will be stronger together if they will fully have each other's backs.

Angel numbers 1010 It's up to you! (moderation, patience, flow, clarity, joy, movement, self-realization, taking action, unconditional love) 0 is the number of divine consciousness in numerology, and 11 is a notorious twin flame number because it represents the mirror work that twin flames experience during their healing journey. Together, 1010 is a sacred number representing divine union on the way. 0707 compromise (self-awareness, forgiveness, empathy, professionalism, tenacity and freedom) The number 707 in twin flame symbolism often represents spiritual awakening, introspection, and alignment with divine guidance. Seeing 707 may indicate that positive changes are underway in the twin flame journey, encouraging both to trust in their inner wisdom and spiritual growth. 0808 swift action (wealth, empathy, promises, commitment, affection, inner strength, auspicious outcomes) They are both healing! Seeing this repeated number means they both have completed a soul lesson as part of their healing journey and it's allowed them to reclaim their power. 1551 hold your vision (manifestation, abundance, money, dreams, vision and prosperity)  A sign it's time to take the next step in your relationship. If you've had a falling out with your twin flame, you may soon reunite. Continue to focus on your personal growth, and your reunion will be a success.

Light/shadow tarot

The hanged man ( I'm taking a break from everything so I can meditate and release my old ways of thinking. This process is not that easy) I feel like Armie is still struggling with the way he was brought up in a very traditional way. Being with Timmy would mean he has to let go of these thoughts. It will also mean some people will frown upon it (friends/family) six of wands (every time we get passed our arguments and get on the same page, I feel on top of the world and I succeed in all I do.) Armie was struggling to see why he would give up a traditional relationship to be with Timmy, but he knows now that when they do communicate properly and are honest to each other, he's happier than he ever was before. I simply can't let Timmy go. ace of pentacles (I feel so rich for knowing true love. I now see how easy it is to create wealth, when you know someone like you, to love.) I feel like Timmy now sees what it will cost him to give up Armie, to not have that true love anymore. For all his ambition, he's seeing now it also very lonely at the top. He needed this separation to come to that conclusion. knight of wands (the fact that you are so mysterious is very thrilling and it turns on my passion, cause I don't know what to expect.) I think both feel that about each other, the unusual and unexpected aspects of both their characters makes the other even more desirable. ace of swords (since I met you, my mind has expanded to so many new ideas and ways of thinking, enhancing my brain power like never before) Both have changed each others views and opinions of the world. Their thinking, their way of loving another being. This is the biggest lesson they have learned from each other and they know in their hearts how much it is worth. nine of cups (I feel grateful for everything in my life, especially you! I want to enjoy more happy times together and make love all night) Nothing to add here :)

Twin flame ascension

11:11 compassion (higher heart opening) They have to heal their heart by letting go of judgement of each other that created the separation between them. 1111 is believed to be a sign that your thoughts and intentions are manifesting rapidly. During twin flame separation, this can serve as a reminder to focus on positive thoughts and intentions.

4:4 transformation (battle of Head vs. Heart) The 44 angel number twin flame separation is a necessary step in the spiritual growth of both individuals, and it will ultimately lead to a stronger, more fulfilling relationship. Listen to your heart rather than your head, don't resist change and avoid taking necessary actions. Both have been listening more to their heads and the arguments they could come up with why to stay separated last year. They have to face their fears and it will lead to tremendous transformation.

8:8 Honor your agreement (mission in motion) Angel number 88 suggests that abundance and restoration are on the horizon for twin flame relationships. It signifies that love and respect will be restored if your relationship has faced difficulties. Release karmic patterns

Messages:

Both: I dream about you at night Dreams come to them both about the other I love you to the moon and back They know both that this is the strongest they have ever felt about someone else Timmy: you light up my world you have to be patient I need to sort things out first, before I can come to you Will you help me? Armie: Time will tell if he can trust Timmy fully again I want you It's not a matter of not wanting him, it's just a matter of not wanting to come last My beloved That's how he thinks about Timmy

*This reading is alleged/ for entertainment purposes only*

[hanta-seros-wifey]

something in the orange| fratboy!katsuki bakugo x f!softgirl!reader

summary: childhood competitive friends take a college cooking course together for fun. katsuki bakugo, our amazing frat boy, and y/n, our amazing soft hearted girl. katsuki has a soft spot for her, but because of his ego won't let it show. denki being denki, lets a secret spill out which can ultimately make or break your friendship with katsuki bakugo

chapter 8: katsuki bakugo & the look of love

warnings: suggestive!!

“okay kats just follow me” you said softly standing in front of the mirror and watching him through the reflection. you did basic dance moves, easy enough for a beginner so katsuki can get the hang of it, but he ultimately fails, again.

“okay sweets we all know i dont have the proper balance that you do” he says putting his hands on his hips and sighing out in frustration. “wanna take a break?” you ask him sweetly and he nods.

he walks towards you and places his hands gently on your shoulders. he stares at you and a slight smile creeps onto his face. he pulls you into a hug and you wrap your arms around his neck to hug him back.

“whats this for kats?” you asked closing your eyes and relishing the hug. “cant hug my girlfriend?” he says and you laugh softly. you pull away and look up at him.

he looks down at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen him with. he sighs out softly and reaches to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. he doesnt directly say the words but in this moment, just by the way he’s looking at you, you know what he’s trying to say.

“wanna go get food?” you ask him and he nods his head. you clean up and change, immediately walking out and heading down to the on campus cafe. “hey denks, eiji!” you said waving at them with a big smile on your face.

“y/n!” they said together pulling you into a hug. “and katsuki” katsuki grumbles out and you laugh softly. “we got a booth, sero, shoto, jiro, and mina should be coming in soon” denki says leaving his bag in the booth as a placeholder.

“cool do you want us to stay while you both get food?” you asked them and they nod their heads. “thanks y/n” eijiro said and got in line with denki. you and katsuki sit next to each other waiting for them to come back.

“i didnt agree to this” he mumbled out looking at you. “i wanted my food” he says and you smile at him. “youre funny” you said kissing his cheek.

katsuki pulls out his phone and opens his camera app. “say cheese” he says holding the phone out to take a picture of the both of you. “cheese” you say smiling and katsuki snaps it.

you kiss his cheek and he snaps another picture. he turns to look at you and plants a kiss on your lips, snapping another picture. he puts his phone down without pulling away and you giggle into the kiss.

“woah are we interrupting something” hanta says as he, shoto, and mina join you guys at the table. katsuki pulls away and gives you a look and narrows his eyes at his friends. “nope!” you said cheeks heating up.

“im absolutely dreading finals” sero whines and removes his scarf and coat. “you gotta pass if youre the one designing our future buildings” denki says as he and eijiro come back. denki gives jiro a forehead kiss and eiji gives mina a sweet small kiss.

“you all go get food were here to watch the table” eijiro says to you all. “here babe” he says and gives his ID card to mina. denki hands his over to jiro and she takes it, following after all of you.

you and katsuki order your food, him paying with his meal swipes how generous. you stand with katsuki waiting for your names to be called. your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out to see what it is.

katsukibakugo mentioned you in their story

you looked up at him as he stares ahead, one arm draped around your waist and he’s fighting off a smile. you open it to see and its the photo you both just took. the kissing one.

you look up and see he’s added it to a highlight and added a song. no. 1 party anthem. he wrote something and you almost missed it completely.

my girl for life

you liked it and turned your phone off, looking up at katsuki. “youre adorable” you said smiling up at him. he looks down at you and maintains eye contact. he leans down to plant a small kiss on your lips.

“katsuki!” a worker yells out and you both move to grab both dishes and return back to the booth. “awww bakubro” eijiro says sliding his phone over the table.

he doesnt say anything, his faint smile present. “aww he’s in love” sero teased as he came back with his food sliding into the booth, next to you. everyone comes back to the table and sits happily, chatting.

“we need to find you a girl man” kirishima says pointing his fork at sero. he shakes his head taking a sip of his drink. “as much as that sounds awesome, i cannot take the responsibility of a boyfriend role at the moment” he shakes his head.

“aw look at that being responsible” you teased and he gave you a deadpanned look. “i think its cause he’s probably too stupid to hold a relationship on top of school” jiro smirked and everyone starts laughing.

“you guys are mean” sero says crossing his arms, offended. after eating dinner with your friends, you all went back to the dorms for a movie night.

you skipped along with mina and jiro, giggling about everything.

●~*

you lay in katsuki’s dorm room watching him play video games with kirishima, denki, and sero. you wear katsuki’s big track and field sweatshirt he bought at the beginning of the school year.

you got up and moved to sit in his lap as he continues shooting while sero yells at denki through the headphones. he puts a hand on your waist and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“almost done kats?” you asked him and he doesnt respond. “alright im off” he announces and immediately gets off the game. he turns to you and sighs softly.

he looks at you with tired eyes, but always remains that look he has when he stares at you. the look of love. he leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. you return it back, softly holding onto the back of his head. your nails raked his scalp and he groans.

you pull away and get up, pulling him with you. “wanna see some choreography i have figured out?” you asked him as he takes a seat on his bed. “go crazy sweets” he smiles at you, eyes remained on your figure to let you know he’s watching with intent.

you danced around in his room and his eyes lit up everytime you did something impressive. you stood there huffinf for air as you looked at katsuki. “hey sweets a question” he says with a smirk.

“shoot” you said tilting your head to the side. “youre wearing this big sweatshirt, a nice one at that, with no shorts on?” he says leaning his arms on his knees and tilting his head to the side with the biggest smirk ever.

your face immediately heats up and you cover your face while turning away from him. “no dont get all shy with me” he says grabbing your hands and pulling you closer to him.

you stand in between his legs and he smiles up at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “its okay just teasing” he whispers to you and you smile. he positions you to straddle him and you smile down at him.

“im tired” you breathed out and he nodded his head. he grabbed you tightly and positioned the both of you to finally get some rest. you cuddled into his chest and he wrapped his arm around you.

“i love you kats” you whispered out into the quiet dark room. “i love you sweets” he whispered back and placed a loving kiss on your forehead.

●~*

“what is sex like?” you asked as you stormed into the on campus cafe and spotted your girls at a booth. “woah” momo said and turned the other way. toru moved over to make some space for you to sit.

“why you askin’?” mina smirked and you looked at the girls with urgency written on your face. sero and todoroki being in the booth over, listened intently.

“i wanna jump to the next step with kats” you said shyly and all the girls squealed with happiness. “our make out sessions have been getting steamier by the minute and i cant take it anymore” you sighed frustrated.

“yea girl you need some action” jiro says and the girls nod. momo looks flustered as she drinks her tea and looks down at her human anatomy textbook.

“okay miss textbook dont act like you and iida havent done anything” mina points her fork accusingly at momo. momo only looks away as the girls giggle.

“just talk to bakugo about it, im sure he’s been waiting patiently about this too” ochaco says softly and the girls agree.

“okay” you smiled and got up. “wait now?” toru asks and you shook your head no. “im getting coffee. need to hype myself up a bit” you breathed out and got in line for coffee.

●~*

later that day, you were in your room, doing your research. a knock on your door dragged you out of your thoughts as you closed your computer and moved to open the door.

katsuki was on the other side and you immediately let him in. “whatcha doin princess?” he asks you placing a kiss on your lips, letting it linger. “hm? doing homework” you said pointing at your laptop and grabbing it putting it on your desk.

“and what brings you here handsome?” you asked him, hands on your hips. “cant spend time with my pretty girlfriend?” he asks getting closer to you.

he puts his hands on your hips and you smile up at him. “here for a makeout session?” you asked him getting on your tip toes to kiss him. he kisses back and your hands tangle in his hair.

you pull away to look at him and you decide to just go for it. you grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, discarding it on your floor. you stare at his bare chest, breathing heavily and you smile.

“that okay?” you ask him and he gets closer smirking down at you. “is the door locked?” he asks you and you glance over his shoulder. “no” you said and he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he moves to lock it.

“where were we” he says before locking lips with you again. he tugs on your sweatshirt and you pull away to help him remove it. “we really doing this?” he asks you with reassuring eyes. “fuck yes finally” you giggle out kissing him again as he leads you towards your bed, dropping you softly as he climbs over you.

●~*

you lay in your bed together, pastel yellow sheets covering your naked bodies. youre in katsuki’s arms as he brushed your hair softly away from your face. “how was it?” he asks you quietly as he traced circles on your bare waist.

“it was great” you said looking up at him. he smiles down at you and cups your face gently. “im happy you are my firsts for everything” he says sighing contently. “im happy you are my firsts for everything too kats” you said pressing a kiss to his lips.

“and it has to stay that way got it?” he tells you and you nod your head. “was planning on it silly” you giggle pulling him in. “i love you kats” you said with a huge smile on your face as you pressed a kiss to his neck (where you left a mark).

“i love you more sweets” he said kissing your neck as he pulled you in closer. “having a sex conversation in public is crazy no?” he says in a teasing tone and you whip your head to look at him.

“what?!” you exclaimed sitting up slightly and resting your head against your hand. in this position your right boob pops out from under your comforter, katsuki looks down at it and back up to your eyes.

“sero and todoroki overheard and reported back to me. honestly you could’ve talked to me about it from the beginning, i wanted you to say something or make the first move to know it was okay to do it” he said sincerely rubbing your shoulder comfortably.

“put that away” he mutters tucking your boob into the comforter. you burst out laughing as katsuki does too. he stops laughing and stares at you.

katsuki bakugo and the look of love.

AHH I FINISHED IT YAYY. thank you so much for the love & support this series got. im sorry if it was a shitty ending but ahh i dont care i love how it ended!!

taglist:

@akuixe @arc6021 @jellysupremacy @defnotriri @babylambdietcoke

[putschki1969]

hi puts!

First of all congrats to you and all the kalafans that have made it to the Anni concert! I just couldn't find a way to fly there thanks to the silly leave policies in my company ( i was at work sobbing while the girls were singing probably their last kala live😭😭)

So, what do you think about the possibility of WKH singing live together in the future? I saw a lot of tweets saying there is slim chance... even the girls themselves didn't seem optimistic about it, and the “一夜限り” slogans seemed like they're trying to deliver a long overdue farewell to the fans by this concert for the past 7 years 😭 it's giving me a feeling that they're striving to respond to the love they received from the kalafans, while risking almost recklessly of losing tremendous support from YK sensei's side. I also saw a tweet about the fact that YK unfollowed K&H, this made me so sad although I knew it was totally rational since they previously broke up in such notorious way🥹

But all in all seeing WKH loving each other is the best new year gift to me, i hope them don't lose this precious connection ♥️

Thanks for reading my message!

Hello there!

Awww, thank you! It truly was the experience of a lifetime and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.🥰 Whether it was their "best" concert is probably up to personal preference (the setlist wasn't my cup of tea to be honest) but it definitely felt like their most important concert to me. I think it gave everyone involved a certain peace of mind after everything that had happened in the past seven years.

I am really sorry that you weren't able to make it. Thankfully, we will be getting a TV broadcast so that's a tiny consolation at least.

Hmmmn, as I mentioned in my live report, the girls didn’t even hint at any possible future activities. There was just an endless amount of appreciation/gratitude for the past and present. And as you say, it was more about treasuring a special night together, this miraculous opportunity to sing together one more time. The entire concert had somewhat of a final feel to it, like it was giving us a sense of closure (which we had previously been denied).

While there don't seem to be any concrete plans for the future, the girls are clearly not without hope. They didn't dare (or weren't able) to say anything specific but Keiko didn't miss the chance to utter a few hopeful words, more like a prayer actually, "叶うならまた~/If my wish would come true, maybe [we can do this/sing together] again~"

There's a clear desire to be together again and they evidently have so much love for each other (💙🖤🤍) so that's really all I need to know to remain hopeful. Will it take time? Sure! Will sacrifices have to be made? Absolutely! This concert has strengthened my conviction, my love for Kalafina is as strong as ever, if not stronger. I will wait as long as it takes but I think it's also valid to interpret this concert as a solid send-off for everyone who has previously struggled to let go due to the abrupt way things ended back in the day.

As for Yuki Kajiura and losing her support, I currently don't know what's true and what's not. How does she really feel about all of this? Her initial statement was harsh and immature if you ask me. Was it her prerogative to be upset about the situation, of course! Should she have taken a step back to reflect on what was happening in order to release a more professional statement, I personally think so. But hey, what's done is done and for what it's worth, I think that first tweet was probably the most honest reflection of her feelings. Everything that followed felt a little disingenuous to me, like empty platitudes, her way of providing some much needed damage control. Hikaru and Keiko seem to have talked things through with Yuki but it was probably on a surface level. They apparently had no big issues working together during the YKL Asia Tour but really, what other choice could they have had seeing as their participation was decided long before the whole Kalafina debacle. I wonder though, how all of this will affect future activities. I believe Yuki when she says she still respects the girls as singers but that doesn't mean she is willing to work with them as much as she used to. For the time being, I am optimistic though and feel like nothing much will change on that front. So Keiko will most likely remain a regular member of FJ and Hikaru may appear as guest vocalist from time to time. Although Yuki might refrain from doing Kalafina covers for a while. Or she'll double down and focus even more on Kalafina covers out of spite. We'll know more by March when details for YKL Vol.#21 are announced.

I was not aware of the Twitter thing. Can't say I keep track of who Yuki is following so I wouldn't even be able to confirm that she ever followed the girls in the first place. But if she really unfollowed them over this, I would find it more than petty of her. But I guess it would track with the usual M.O. of ignoring each other's online presence in the ever-lasting feud between Team Yuki and Team Space Craft. Maybe now that Hikaru and Keiko are "aligning themselves with the enemy" (i.e. participating in the Kalafina live and following Wakana on social media) they have fallen out of favour and are being considered as "Space Craft adjacent". Who knows...

I am honestly curious what sort of arrangement Keiko and Hikaru have going on with Space Craft. They obviously did not sign a proper management contract since Keiko is presumably still with Tristone and Hikaru is still a freelancer but there must be some contractual obligations that may or may not affect some of their current and future activities. Keiko has pretty much stopped doing Instagram Lives and mainly shares insights through her Yodel app so I cannot help but wonder if that has anything to do with certain Space Craft restrictions. According to Keiko's messages in Yodel, it is more of a personal choice but meh, the timing is a bit suspicious.

Either way, I hope to see them do more promotional stuff for the upcoming TV broadcast and share a few more pictures/thoughts regarding the concert. Ideally, I want to see them do casual stuff together and post about it on social media 💙🖤🤍but I'm not sure that's gonna happen. I also wonder if we'll get anything special for tomorrow (their actual anniversary). It's probably best not to get my hopes up.🙃

I don't need Kalafina to release any new music and they don't even have to go back to regular live activities but I'd be more than happy to see them hold an annual concert or so. Let's keep our fingers crossed!

Additionally, I hope the girls can continue to focus on their solo careers. Hikaru hinted at already having some plans for further activities once her tour is over (hope to get an announcement soon) and Wakana has her spring live line up. Nothing special in store for Keiko yet (except for that Tristone event) so I am eager for some updates.🙏

[gottencents]

011: suddenly, I have a valentine

synopsis. SM Entertainment would’ve loved for FALLEN ANGELS and aespa to never share a stage — especially with Chanel possibly "corrupting" their prized “it girl,” Karina.

____________ ____________ ________ ____________

Karina sighed, setting her phone down. She wasn’t mad—well, maybe a little frustrated. It wasn’t like Chanel didn’t care. If anything, Chanel had gone above and beyond to show how much she liked her. But sometimes, Karina wished Chanel would just… say it outright.

Still, she had to admit it was part of Chanel’s charm. Her awkwardness. Her nervous rambling. The way she tried so hard to make Karina smile, even when she didn’t need to.

“I just have to be patient,” Karina whispered to herself. “She’ll come around.”

Chanel threw her phone onto the couch, groaning loudly. How could she be so oblivious? She’d been so caught up in just enjoying her time with Karina—FaceTime calls that lasted until sunrise, casual dates that made her heart race, and the way Karina’s smile seemed to light up her whole world—that she’d completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day.

She paced her living room, muttering to herself. “Okay, Chanel. You need a plan. Something special. Something romantic. Something that doesn’t scream I’m a clueless lesbian who forgot Valentine’s exists.”

Her eyes landed on the kitchen. Home-cooked dinner? Candles? Fairy lights? She could make this work.

Chanel stood by the stove, nervously stirring the pot of sauce for the third time. She had never been this fidgety in her life. Usually, she’d laugh off nerves, masking them with jokes or charm. But tonight felt different. Tonight was important.

The sound of the doorbell made her jump. She wiped her hands on her apron and quickly glanced at her reflection in the microwave. Her hair was… acceptable. Her shirt didn’t have any accidental food stains. She was as ready as she’d ever be.

When she opened the door, Karina stood there, effortlessly beautiful, dressed in a soft pink sweater and jeans. Her smile was warm but curious, her head tilting slightly as she took in Chanel’s flustered expression.

“Hey,” Karina greeted softly.

“Hey,” Chanel replied, stepping aside to let her in. She closed the door behind her, suddenly hyperaware of how intimate her apartment felt with the low lighting and soft music playing in the background.

Karina looked around, her eyes landing on the table set for two, the candles flickering warmly. “This is… wow. You did all this?”

“Yeah,” Chanel said, scratching the back of her neck. “I, uh, kinda went into overdrive. I just… I wanted to make tonight special for you.”

Karina turned to her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, you know.”

“I know,” Chanel said quickly. “But I wanted to. And also…” She hesitated, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”

Karina blinked, confused. “For what?”

“For being so oblivious,” Chanel admitted, her voice soft. “I mean, it took me forever to realize Valentine’s Day was even a thing, and I didn’t realize how important it might be to you. You’ve probably been dropping hints for weeks, and I just—”

“ baby ,” Karina interrupted, stepping closer.

Chanel stopped rambling, looking down at Karina with a mix of nervousness and guilt.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Karina said, her tone firm but gentle. “I know relationships are new territory for you, and honestly… you’ve already done more than enough to make me feel special.”

Chanel let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I just don’t want you to think I’m not serious about this. About us.”

Karina’s expression softened even more. “I don’t think that at all. You’re trying, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Chanel nodded, her lips curving into a small, relieved smile. “Okay. But just so you know, I’m still going to spoil you tonight.”

Karina laughed, her eyes sparkling. “I’m not complaining.”

They moved to the table, where Chanel served the dinner she’d been stressing over for hours. Karina’s face lit up at the first bite.

“This is amazing,” Karina said, her voice full of genuine appreciation.

Chanel grinned, her confidence slowly returning. “Yeah? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Nope. You’re officially a better cook than me.”

“Good to know,” Chanel teased. “I’ll add that to my list of skills.”

After dinner, they settled on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket. Chanel had queued up Karina’s favorite romantic movie, but her attention kept drifting to the girl beside her. The way Karina’s head rested against her shoulder, her soft laughter at the cheesy dialogue—it all felt surreal.

How did I get so lucky? Chanel thought.

“Why are you staring at me?” Karina asked, her voice amused.

Chanel blinked, realizing she’d been caught. “I wasn’t staring.”

Karina raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I was staring a little,” Chanel admitted. “But can you blame me? You’re kind of… perfect.”

Karina’s cheeks flushed, and she nudged Chanel playfully. “You’re such a dork.”

“Your dork,” Chanel shot back without thinking.

Karina froze for a moment, her gaze meeting Chanel’s. The air between them grew heavier, more charged.

“Say that again,” Karina whispered.

Chanel swallowed, her voice quieter but steadier this time. “Your dork.”

Karina smiled, leaning closer until their faces were inches apart. “Good. Because I like the sound of that.”

Chanel’s heart raced as Karina closed the gap, their lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow and gentle, as if neither of them wanted to rush the moment. Karina’s hand rested on Chanel’s cheek, her thumb brushing against her skin, while Chanel’s fingers found their way to Karina’s waist.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together.

“So,” Chanel murmured, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Does this mean I get to call you my Valentine?”

Karina laughed softly, her eyes shining. “I thought that was obvious.”

Chanel grinned, her confidence returning. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Dork,” Karina said again, but this time, her tone was filled with nothing but affection.

“Your dork,” Chanel repeated, kissing her again.

____________ ____________ ________ ____________

A/N: texts made to all be incoming on purpose for u to know who talking better <333

Taglist ( closed ) : @saysirhc @awkwardtoafault @yjiminswallet @gtfoiydlyj @1luvkarina @womanl0ver @hazel-tanthamore22 @deuxae @arihiu @spidrgamer

[kirain]

Do I dare ask for Rook and Manfred mourning Emmrich's death together?

Well, that hurts.

Manfred perched on the windowsill, his skeletal form listless as the cool breeze whistled through the house. Outside, beneath the sprawling oak tree, Vae sat alone on a bench—a marble loveseat that Emmrich had commissioned for her long ago. The crisp air tugged at the hem of her shawl, and her head hung low, the odd strand of grey framing her face like echoes of time passed. She'd always loved autumn; her favourite season, but she didn't seem to notice the beauty surrounding her.

She hadn't for months.

Manfred's gemstone eyes reeled as they caught the glint of silver in her hair. Emmrich. The name whirled in his mind, a storm of longing and warmth. He missed him—his patience, his steady presence, his irreverent charm—but he knew Vae missed him more. They shared a type of love he hadn't yet experienced. Yet, he understood it.

With a reverent chirp, he dropped to the ground, his joints clacking faintly as he hurried into the house—the place where the three of them had lived, loved, and built something whole. It had been decades since the Veilguard disbanded, yet the evidence of their happiness lingered in every corner.

Vae and Emmrich, huddled together at the first snowfall, dancing in the lounge after a victorious battle, sharing stolen kisses under the moonlight—and through it all their friends had come to visit as often as they could, supplementing their joy. He wanted to see her like that again. He wanted to see her smile. Truly smile. Not the strained rictus she wore now, pretending she was fine for his sake.

He knew it wasn't real. It was painful.

As he moved through the parlour, his gaze drifted to the corner of the rug, its edges forever singed from his days as an apprentice.

"Go on, Manfred," Emmrich's voice cheered, vibrant as ever. "You're progressing marvellously. Let's try a small flame this time."

From the kitchen, Vae's familiar admonishment rang out. "Not in the house, Emmrich!"

"It'll be fine!" he insisted, leaning forward with an encouraging grin. "Let's show her how capable you've become, yes?"

Manfred remembered the surge of pride as he hissed playfully and conjured a spark. But the spark had grown—too fast, too wild. Flames caught the bottom of his coat, leaping to the edge of the rug.

"Concentrate, Manfred. Pull it back," Emmrich said, his calm tone masking his rising concern.

Manfred flailed in panic, the fire refusing his control.

"Oh, dear..."

Emmrich darted for a bucket of water, shouting reassurances, just as Vae rushed in, rattled by the sound. Her eyes widened at the sight of flames and chaos, but when the fire was finally doused and the two looked up at her, soaked and sheepish, she only laughed.

"It's a good thing Manfred doesn't have skin!" she teased.

Manfred sighed, his bony chest fluttering as if he could breathe. The memory faded, but its emotion lingered, urging him forward.

Soon, he padded into Emmrich's study, the air heavy with the scent of parchment and pleasant traces of cologne. Of all the rooms in the house, this one was unmistakably his—an embodiment Vae hadn't seen fit to empty. As he moved deeper, Manfred's bony fingers skimmed the spines of books and tomes that Emmrich had once cherished, but never finished.

He ran out of time.

When Manfred reached the desk, still buried under endless papers on necromancy and the complexities of reanimation, he opened a drawer and pulled out a small handheld mirror, which Emmrich kept hidden inside.

"A gentleman must always look his best," he used to say. "If you can't disarm your enemy with weapons, do so with poise." He would then place a hand on Manfred's shoulder. "And to those who aren't your enemy, it shows that you care."

Slowly, the solemn skeleton reached for a feathered quill, dipped it into the ink well, and, staring at his reflection, drew two lines under his absent nose. When he was finished, he tilted his head, admiring his work.

Perfect.

He headed for the door, but as he reached for the handle, he caught sight of Emmrich's lilac coat—another memento Vae clung to, even though he'd stopped wearing it long before he passed, his body too frail to bear it. It hung loosely on its hook, pale and tattered, yet alluring. Almost beckoning. With a nostalgic hum, Manfred slipped it on, the fabric swallowing his wiry frame, but it was enough.

Enough to feel the presence of his father.

-----

Vae hadn't moved, her fingers idly tracing the veins of a fallen leaf in her lap. The sharp scent of autumn filled her lungs, mingling with the ache in her heart. A tear rolled down her cheek, unbidden, as she whispered to the wind, "I promised I wouldn't mourn you like this... but I miss you so much, my love. I now understand what you were so afraid of."

A faint rustle made her glance up. Manfred emerged from the house, stumbling slightly as the coat trailed behind him, dragging across the grass. Vae blinked, her sorrow briefly forgotten as she took in the sight. Emmrich's refined mannerisms mimicked with uncanny precision, the hastily drawn moustache, the determined tilt of his skull—it was adorable.

"Manfred," she said, half-laughing despite herself. "What in the world are you doing?"

Without a word, he raised his hands, the oversized sleeves flopping comically. With a flick of his wrist, green sparkles erupted into the air, swirling around them like fireflies.

Vae's breath hitched, a fond but distant memory rekindled.

The Lighthouse. Emmrich's confession. The way the glow of his magic illuminated his face as he fumbled over his words, his cheeks burning. "If your attentions go beyond charming flattery... that would interest me, indeed."

Where it all started.

The lights danced around her, the same as they had that day. Bliss and despair warred within her, tears welling in her eyes even as a smile broke through. Slowly, she stood, her hand reaching out to touch the shimmering glow. And for a moment, she could have sworn she felt Emmrich reaching back.

Then, the lights faded.

Manfred stepped closer, taking her hand in his own and pressing it to his chest. His voice, usually a hollow rasp, came smooth and tender. "Emmrich is here."

Vae's lip quivered, her fingers trembling against his ribs. "I know," she wept, her voice breaking.

She wrapped her arms around him, the weight of her grief lifting as they held each other under the setting sun.

[starwarskawaii]

Annoyance and Empanadas Pt. 2

A Miguel O'Hara fic

A/N: In which I make yet another self-insert fic. This will probably be a series. If I make a couple other disabled folks and Miguel-actually-has-a-personality-not-just-a-hot-body understanders happy, it's all worth it.

edit: Just a warning, this one is longer

CW: Reader is implied again to be autistic, or just awkward as hell, 2099 cursing, more mentions of chronic pain, mentions of past hurt due to disability for reader, reader has a brother, reader has a niece, brief suggestive content, still pretty PG, one use of damn, pretty much same content as last one, tone is a little more serious than pt 1

Miguel stepped into your apartment with you. Your messy apartment. Shock, how did you live like this?! There were blankets everywhere, you never made your bed (a complete waste of time, you had no one to impress), your laundry was permanently overflowing (how did you own this much clothing?!), there were figures and dolls and knick knacks absolutely everywhere, books stacked haphazardly on shelves in an attempt to make them all fit, comics tucked in between, fan art on the walls... There was so much sensory input he almost felt dizzy.

You flopped down on the couch, somehow hitting your leg with a forearm crutch on the way down. Only you. You tossed the aids aside and Miguel picked them up off of the ground and leaned them against the doorway. You almost never used aids inside your apartment unless it was a bad day. Better to fall at home than in front of a bunch of strangers, was your reasoning. Miguel did not agree with your reasoning. Miguel kind of wondered how you had managed to stay alive before him.

As you cozied up on the couch, Miguel began to make your empanadas. Beef and cheese, your favorite. You never had a taste for the chicken. Admittedly, neither had he, so this suited him just fine. You two had fallen into a sort of routine. Monday through Friday you worked your normal job, and he would come by after you got home to cook with you and help with all the things you would never ask him to go out of his way for but needed, and Saturday you would spend the day at the Spider Society, helping Miguel map out Spider's lives. He used to work extremely long hours, since most other Spiders would have to go home, and he technically already was home. But since you came into his life, he had finally learned to delegate more.

Today was Saturday. You loved Saturdays, and so did Miguel, though neither of you had ever actually told the other. Maybe, Miguel thought, maybe it was time to tell you. He knew you were attracted to him, physically at least. He knew you cared about him. He just wasn't sure if you loved him like he loved you. But something in him as he made those empanadas and reflected on your routines together made him realize that those feelings, the ones he wasn't sure whether they were gratitude or love, were absolutely love.

You sat on the couch, holding a plush and willing yourself to get out of your uncomfortable day clothes and into something that didn't make you want to scream. Miguel had seemed so uncomfortable with you being in your pajamas the first time he saw it. You weren't really sure why, bodies are just bodies, right? Maybe because he was such an awkward nerd? He couldn't be attracted to you, could he? Not back then, anyways. He called you "hermosa" now. Seemingly platonically? You really weren't sure. You're not exactly great with social cues, even after years of practice. Plus, you're a disabled woman. What man wants that? Who signs up for a lifetime of their partner never being able to give them what a normal woman can? You weren't even sure if you could have kids with all the unknowns with your health. Not to mention that Miguel and you were from different universes. You were pretty sure he wanted to have kids again. How would that even work? How would any of it work?

Back in the kitchen, Miguel wondered many of the same things you did. How would it work? How could it work? Did you even want him? Your parents were long past too far gone to help you, having disabilities of their own, and no one else around you had even tried to. If he made this awkward, you might feel like you had to part ways with the one person who was caring for you. He didn't want that. Still. You were always so mature. You were friends with people who you had crushed on who had rejected you. Why wouldn't you do the same for him? And he was a genius who invented multiversal travel, who said he couldn't figure out how to make an interdimensional relationship work? In some ways, you two already did. That settled it. He had resolved to tell you.

You changed into an oversized nightgown, with soft seams. You had cleaned up some of the blankets you left out along your way to your room. You knew Miguel hated messes. The blankets were still out from having your niece over a few days ago for a sleepover. You pondered whether you should tell Miguel how you felt, more explicitly than the hints you had been dropping. He was so dense... You hated pursuing, it gave the other person too much power. And you were already permanently stuck in a power imbalance with any and every man you meet. Disability put you at a permanent disadvantage in relationships. You had a very pesky genuine need for a partner. You thought about your family, your brother, your niece, your parents... How would they feel about all this? How could you even tell them about it all?

You entered the kitchen and Miguel turned around to tell you the food was almost ready. His heart stopped. Somehow you looked even more beautiful than usual, wearing the same ratty nightgown that you refused to get rid of, believing that you were doing your part for the environment by wearing it until it was scraps. Something about knowing that he loved you made him love looking at you even more.

"Miguel?" you questioned, seeing the strange look on his face. "You alright there, love?"

"Do you call everyone love?" Miguel blurted it out before he even realized what he was saying. Shock. Shockity shocking shock.

"I mean, only people I care about, but I suppose I call a lot of people love, why do you ask?" you raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was going to lecture you on proper coworker etiquette (as if you two weren't past that point), make some smart mouth comment, or finally address your flirting. The possibility of the last one made your heart nearly stop. Half the reason you flirted was because Miguel would never pick up on it.

"I think I love you"

"What?"

"I mean I know I do. I mean... We've been close friends all this time, and you're the only person I have ever been able to just be open with and... Shock, this is coming out all wrong."

"Migs," you said tenderly, as if you were approaching a wounded animal (which you basically were, he is half spider). "I love you too"

"You do?"

"Well duh, your smart mouth and endless brooding isn't easy to put up with without rose colored glasses." Love did not dull your sharp tongue. Not even a little. Poor Miguel. You were still very annoying. No matter how much he loved you. "Can you handle being a relationship with me, though?"

"What do you mean, cariño?"

"I mean I have a broken brain and body. The stuff you do for me after work will become a full-time job. I am a full-time job. I am so much work... And I haven't been worth it for anyone yet." You hated saying it out loud. You believed Miguel loved you. But you also believed that loving someone didn't mean you could love them well. You had to be sure Miguel knew what he was signing up for, because you loved him. You wanted him to be happy with you. The real you. The 24/7 broken brain and body having you.

Miguel leaned over and kissed you gently on the forehead. Somehow, you knew exactly what the gesture meant. You knew your Miguel. You knew all his buttons, you knew his story, you knew his heart. You knew you had it, in spite of whatever was broken with you. He knew he was signing up for a life of doctor's appointments and medication issues and flare ups and wheelchairs and fighting your insurance company. And he didn't care. He did it all already, and he loved it, because it was for you.

"I can handle you amor" Miguel spoke after what felt like a perfect, peaceful lifetime of just staying close to you after the kiss. "You are so worth it. Worth every single trial that comes our way"

"I'm surprised you told me. I'm surprised you didn't catastrophize the idea of being with me in your head until you were convinced that being within the same universe as you would kill me. Which, to be clear, it won't. Any bad things that happen are just a part of life." You reassured him. You felt a little bad for teasing him at a time like this. But he did catastrophize everything. "What about kids? I always assumed you would want more, now that you don't force yourself to carry the weight of the entire multiverse on your back and stopped blaming yourself for what happened. How would that even work, for us?"

"You want a baby with me already? Dang, looking to live out some of your fan fictions?" Miguel grinned. You glared. He stopped, and spoke "I'm honestly not sure, mi amor. I would need to run some tests, and there's your health to consider... Maybe we would adopt from your universe? We probably don't need to figure it all out now though, mi corazón."

He raised his brows at you and smiled. Just then, the timer went off for the last of the food. He made all your favorites. Whether he consciously knew or not, he was always going to tell you tonight.

"I do have one question though, on that topic. Can you... Are you even able to... Would it hurt you if we..." His voice kept trailing off. Weird. What is he- Oh. OH.

"Yes, I can do that, I'm just more limited in how. I know we're in love and all, but I strongly prefer to wait for that until much farther into the relationship. Like wedding night farther." You were bright red. Miguel had thought about that? With you? You were slightly under the impression, given the way he worked so tirelessly, that this Miguel variant was a sexless being. So much for that theory. You regained your composure a little. "Sorry, I realize that probably isn't what you were hoping I would say."

"Don't apologize, you were just honest. Besides, it's been ages since I..." His voice trailed off again. "I will be completely fine waiting for you. Anyways, we have much more important things to figure out, like how to have a cross dimensional relationship"

"And how to eat all this food you made." You added, salivating at the spread in front of you.

In front of you was elote, some cut up fresh fruit (when did he get that? You really ought to see what he's doing in your kitchen more often...), and, of course, those empanadas. You could kiss him. You should kiss him. He was yours now, wasn't he? As much as you did your best to not oversexualize him and to see him as a person when you were a fan, he still looked like THAT. You had still wanted this for so long. Gosh, you should kiss him.

You leaned over to him as he set down the food, attempting to find the best angle to meet his lips. Why did you have to fall for this damn tree? He was over a foot taller than you. A freaking tree, a very hot tree, very kissable tree, that loved you... What were you mad at again? You finally decided there was only one way to get what you wanted: asking.

"Kiss me?"

You weren't sure how this was all going to work. Probably pretty similarly to how it was now. You weren't sure how you were going to tell your family you were dating a cartoon character. But it would probably be fine. You weren't sure how life with Miguel would end up, what your family would look like. Would your family be the two of you and a cat? A kid? Just you two? In spite of all the unknowns, as he pulled you in for that kiss, you were somehow sure it would be fine.

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in this series!

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 7

Prompts: Gen / Team Fics! (IIIIITS THE GRAND FINALEEEEEE)

lloyd garmadon makes kai smith cry on his birthday- Has been recc'ed a couple times but *I* just read it and now *I* have to rec it too! The brotherly dynamic between the two already has me by the throat, but then both of their perspectives on birthdays just really helps drive the point home!! So pleased to have this fic shown to me!

Aftermaths: Lloyd and Kai post-MotO and oof they both go through it emotionally

Visionary- A fic jam-PACKED with introspective and dynamics with the main six, consisting of Lloyd getting a glimpse of what the other's went through prior to becoming ninja (and other hardships), while the other five use their experiences to help Lloyd move forward with his own troubles. That's...literally the barest I can break this fic down into, but there's soooo many emotions and moments and perspective and AAAAAA

An Endless Light: Made ME weep, man. WEEP I SAY. An immortal Lloyd just loves his family, man. AND GODDD THE ENDINGGGGG

the L-word: FIVE TIMES THE NINJA TELL LLOYD THEY LOVE HIM (and the one time he says it back) THE FOUND FAMILY VIBES ARE STRONG WITH THIS ONE!!! PLATONIC USAGES OF I LOVE YOU *throws flowers petals* LET THE PEOPLE LOVE OUT LOUD!!

The Sun Rises Every Single Night: TIME TRAVEL FIC of Lloyd contending with holy crap how much things have CHANGED but also, despite everything, he is still himself. Kind of a character study, but all entertaining and wholesome ;w;

Time Marches On: A fic that is lamentably not finished, but the chapter that IS there is a wonderful reflection by Wu on how his students have changed (I like time-reflective fics, I suppose) punctuated with a heart-wrenching conversation with Lloyd, which is something I will always love to see~ (but pls if for nothing else the Wu+Lloyd convo is so GOOD *rolls around*)

Thank You, For Giving Me Wings: Or, Five Times the Ninja accidentally called Wu 'Dad' (and the one time one of them didn't on purpose). Oh look, another time-reflective piece about Wu and the Ninja, but this time by me! And could be finished if the Nya chapter didn't give me such a writer's block on how to phrase what I want to saaaay *wails* Anywaaaay, lot of Wu and lots of family emotions and lots of the ninja being vulnerable and soft in their "father's" presence ;w;)/

Some Burn Hot, Some Burn Cold: A story about Lloyd, Elemental Powers, and the effects both those things can have on the ninja's emotions. Everyone's got a role to play in this one, though the parts with Cole and Lloyd hit me the hardest, man. Also may or may not have been my inspiration for Elemental Outbursts ;P

All I Want For Christmas is You: If I had a nickel for every time I recc'ed a Christmas fic in the middle of July, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's (about to) happen twice (aka Lloyd experiences Christmas for the first time and attempts to hide that fact and the ninja simply love him very very very much in the process).

All I'm Asking For- And last but most certainly not least, my other very favorite Ninjago fic ever, the masterpiece that inspired me to get back into writing to begin with ;w;

Kind of a (Christmas-y) AU the diverts from MotO but doesn't necessarily contradict it either, my mere meager description just cannot do it the justice it deserves! Everyone gets some form of closure after all these years of fighting to just be okay, even if for a little while, all sprinkled with marvelous character moments and interactions and holiday shenanigans that are guaranteed to warm your heart at one point or another. A great pick me up to dive back into year round regardless (as I do)

(this fic is technically and obviously about everyone, but the way it starts and ends with Cole's perspective on his team............ *bursts into tears* something about it just feels so perfectly right in a way I still can't manage to explain. But know I hold this fic so very near and dear to my heart and you should too <3)

And that is it! Woot, didn't think I'd make it every day, but turns out I read a lot more than I think! Shoutout to @21st-century-ninja for putting this all together!!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good morning, Sleepyhead.

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[triglycercule]

thanks to amazing mutual's most recent fic,,,, i've had an epiphany ✨✨✨ i'm a fake mttpoly fan i dont think they'd ever love each other ✨✨ OK WELL MAYBE NOT FAKE i just dont think they'd ever fall in love

maybe its tooootally just me being unaware but i see no way how they could ever come to LOVE eachother. in anyway shape or form. is it too early for me to properly string together my thoughts perhaps but EVEN AFTER YEARS OF BEING TOGETHER i dont see how they could find something to truly LOVE in the other 2. like,,,, killer's got his whole. uhhh. emotionally repressed thing. and dust and horror have their own prejudices against the other 2. even if theyre given time to settle their differences and come to terms (somewhat) with their own issues and the other two's personalities/history that bother them i still just dont think theres any potential for....... love?????? am i understandable

the closest thing i could see is maybe care?? attachment??? maybe these are the same words some would use to describe love itself but in the context of the trio i feel like its different. i cant explain myself that well here but i could see them finding rational reasons to appreciate the others and then eventually that turns into genuine care. but not love,,,,, never love for them,,,,,