#tried to get a good mix of silliness and angst

[randomnerd737]

kinda late, but the snake telepathy bit in Janus's grwm video makes me want to see what the other sides' thoughts look like

suggestions:

Logan: he just thinks about what Thomas needs to do and how to make Thomas' life better, but there is also this constant scream of rage and frustration that never stops in the background of his thoughts

Roman: at least a fourth of it is just thinking about Nico. he also thinks about what he can do to make people like him.

Patton: he's thinking about how awesome the other sides are and trying to figure out how to be a good friend and make everyone happy

Virgil: he just thinks of everything that could go wrong in any given scenario. he makes up scenarios where everything goes wrong.

Remus: it is exactly the same as what he says. the only difference is he occasionally thinks about how lonely he is.

[reiderwriter]

ACK I'm so excited that your requests are open again! Um okay, this one feels a bit silly but I'd love a fic where fem!bau!reader is really attracted to Spencer and the way that he smells? (I just KNOW that man smells like cinnamon and a Scholastic Book Fair.) Like, she's been doing a good job hiding her crush from the team, until Spencer catches her eyes dilating at him when he's standing close. And he's an oblivious king, so he's trying to figure out why they were dilated. If it could be race blind like my last request, and from Spencer's POV, that'd be great. (Or split POV, if you'd rather). I really see this as fluff, but if you want to include angst or smut go right on ahead! Thank you for reading my request! Your writing makes my day.

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: This was so fun and silly, and I love writing awkward, puppy love Spencer because sometimes you just have to let yourself become mildly infatuated with a coworker. For the plot. Or at least character development. I hope you like this one!!

Warnings: none.

Masterlist

You thought you'd settled into work well in your first few weeks as a member of the BAU. You thought you were up to speed about everything going on in the office. There was just one mystery left to solve.

“Where is that smell coming from?” You whispered to yourself, frustratedly sniffing the air for the second day in a row as you attempted to locate the warm, delightful smell that seemed to follow you whenever you were in the office.

“Could be one of Garcia's scented candles. They tend to linger,” JJ said from her corner of the bull pen.

“No, I checked earlier and she said they made her throw those out weeks ago.”

Honestly, it was not knowing that was driving you insane. If you knew what the smell was, you could bottle it, spray it all around yourself, and wrap yourself in it like a little blanket. It somehow reminded you of home and of the public library you'd spent much of your childhood in.

After another day of being able to figure out whoever had bought the scent version of the Scholastic Book Fair mixed with homemade cinnamon buns, you gave up. 12 hours of paperwork, and you were just as excited to get away from the sight of brown folders as ever, and as everyone else in the bureau, evidently.

Grabbing your bag, you got in the line for the elevators alongside your team.

“Ready for the crush?” Derek said, punching Spencer Reid on the arm as they waited ahead of you.

“Ow,” the younger man muttered and you tried to hold your giggles back, rolling your eyes as you watched them in amusement.

Derek’s words were true, though. Every day at home time, the elevators packed up quickly, and being on the middle floor meant that it could often take a while for the elevator to come back to you. You swore it was half the reason Hotch stayed late most nights, just to avoid the crush of the trip home.

“I've been taking the DC public transport since I got this job. You think the elevators are bad. Try 8 am subway on a Monday morning.”

The doors opened, and the three of you climbed into the barely there space of the elevator. With a quick side step, you found yourself against the left wall of the elevator. But to your shock, the scent you'd been searching for for three weeks didn't dissipate as it usually did when you got on the elevator.

It was here. The source of the scent was here.

You tried to stay calm as it grew more potent, tried not to frantically look around searching for whatever man or woman was perfumed in heaven. The doors opened again, and more people squeezed in, and suddenly, you found yourself buried nose-first in whatever sensory heaven existed here on earth.

“Sorry,” you heard a mumble in front of you as Spencer held his hand against the wall above your head, trying to keep a polite enough distance so as not to squish you any further. Your mismatching heights, however, led to your face being just about level with his neck.

You really weren't trying to smell him, but you had to inhale, and each time you did, it was a sensory overload.

It was him. Dear God, it was him.

The proximity and his scent really weren't helping your brain stop short circuiting in that moment, and you had to remind yourself after a minute or two or three that you were staring.

Though evidently Spencer had already noticed, and was looking at you with some concern.

“Are you okay? It's pretty tight in here, but I can try and move back if you're uncomfortable.”

“No! No, it's okay,” you did your best not to shout the words out, suddenly wanting his smell and his body close forever.

You hadn't been looking before, but like a freight train at maximum speed, the weight of his attractiveness hit you all at once. There was a slight stubble peppering his jaw, his hair hanging slightly loose, eyes big, and brown, and beautiful. He was tall, and you knew he was strong from watching him manhandle unsubs each week.

To put it blankly, you spiralled. Hard. Straight into infatuation and attraction, and you felt your head growing light with the tipsy feeling of a girlish crush.

You were fucked.

Spencer was concerned about you for the next week.

For starters, he knew that most new hires pushed themselves to the extreme over the first month and ended up quickly burnt out, mentally and physically. He may not have the best physical stamina, but he knew the lengths he had to go to to maintain his mental and physical wellness while working the job.

Which was why he started looking out for you a bit more. Every time he looked at you, you were staring off into space, somewhere just past him, or around him, face glazed over.

He wondered if you had a fever a few times, subtly touching your forehead - wiping away some sweat or a strand of hair - to feel you, and you did always feel hot.

You insisted you were fine though. But the nervous panic, and the constant insistence made him wary enough to pull you aside one day and ask you straight to your face.

“Do you need something?” He said, having unassumingly lured you off to the meeting room without arousing suspicions.

“What? What do you mean?” You said, instantly defensive. You'd hoped you hadn't been as creepy as you knew you had and that he hadn't caught on to your stolen glances and sudden close proximity.

You really couldn't help it. The man smelt too fucking good.

“If you're feeling sick, no one is going to think any less of you for taking a half day, you know.”

His voice was so gentle, you almost didn't die from sheer embarrassment. Almost.

“Oh! Oh, oh no, I'm fine, I'm totally healthy. As a cow!”

“A cow?”

“Yes, I'm as healthy as your average farm animal. Can I go back to work?”

You made to leave, but he grabbed your wrist gently as you brushed past him, and it was like sparks travelled up your arm and pierced your heart directly.

“Spencer!?” you squeaked.

“Your heart rate is elevated, and you feel hot and clammy,” he said, which was exactly the kind of compliment you were aiming to receive from men you were falling for. “You should go see a doctor and then get some rest.”

“No, Spencer, that's not-”

“Everyone pushes themselves in these first few weeks. I had to take a week off after two days in the field from the weight of holding a gun up for so long, which is more embarrassing than it sounds, and Derek-”

“What cologne do you use?” you snapped, desperately hoping to both shut him up and also detangle yourself from this situation with at least one win under your belt. If you found out whatever the smell was he used, you could buy it, grow accustomed to it, and grow out of whatever phase you were going through before you out your job in jeopardy.

“What?”

“You smell… really good. I was wondering what cologne it is.”

“I don't… I don't really use cologne.”

You baulked, unable to stop your face from dropping as your dreams of detaching yourself from your little crush on Spencer Reid faded before your very eyes.

“Shower gel? Shampoo maybe?”

“They're both unscented.”

“So you just… you just smell like that naturally?”

It was his turn to flush then, though the panic never left your head fully.

“Sorry, is it… distracting.”

“Yes,” you whispered, but with such an exhausted exhale, it sounded like a dreamt sigh. You wanted to kick yourself. You wanted to open his jacket, step inside, bury your face in his chest, and fall asleep.

“I see.”

“Mhmm.”

A minute passed in awkward silence, and you wanted to kick yourself for blurting everything out. Quickly turning to leave again, you wished so dearly to erase the last five minutes of your life, sending up enough hail mary’s to absolve you of any sin.

“Lavender. And sometimes patchouli,” he called from behind you as you took your first steps to the door.

“Hmm?” you said, turning back around against your better judgment.

“What?”

“That's what you smell like,” he explained, hands suddenly very preoccupied with his jacket buttons. “I'm not great with scents, but you also smell… nice. Sorry, that was weird.”

“No, not at-”

“You know, the major histocompatibility complex genes are important for the immune system and appear to play a role in sexual attraction via body odour. Studies have shown that body odour is strongly connected with attraction in heterosexual females.”

“Oh. I didn't know that…”

“Do you want to grab dinner with me?”

The words almost knocked you back into the door, as sudden as they were. Had he just asked you on a date? Or was it a friendly coworker thing? A friendly coworker thing where he acknowledged your attraction to his scent and then invited you out on a date.

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Yes, I would like to get dinner with you.”

He did his best to suppress the smile, and you tried hard as well, though neither of you succeeded.

“Great, perfect,” he said, circling you as he made his way to the door, his eyes always turned to you no matter what. He likely regretted that as he bumped into first the edge of a table, then a chair, and then hitting the door with his back, but in your state of puppy love, you didn't care.

“It's a date,” he said, opening the door and walking away, cheeks flushed with heat.

[jjenthusee]

Subtle Stitches

jason todd x reader

A/N: i had an idea then it kinda spiraled? idk if in a good or bad way but i kept adding more and more. i’m also so exhausted from day to day life so this is to comfort myself HAHAHA so ENJOY :D

Tags: fluff, domestic jason, silly jason, toxic jason if u squint but i’m blind to that 😌 and slight angst but all is well :)

You tiredly started putting clothes in the washer, throwing mixed pieces of clothing from your pile and Jason’s pile.

Colors were first, a mixture of fabrics placed in the machine.

After emptying the laundry basket, you remembered the shirt you threw on the floor from this morning. A bad habit you’ve started to pick up as you rushed to get to work on time.

Unsure of the precise outfit you wanted, multiple changes, then changing back into the original outfit, it gave you a pile of clothes thrown last minute.

You grabbed the shirt off the floor.

It wasn’t dirty necessarily, but now you wanted to wash it.

On your way back from the bathroom, you noticed a spare sock thrown sadly outside the door.

Then a completely different lone sock in your bedroom and a pair of pants you left to air-dry, but never bothered to put away still on the dining chair.

You gotta work on this bad habit you’ve developed, but after working all day and getting home late, you hadn’t been able to give yourself any down time, let alone complete any chores.

You hadn’t even seen Jason. Only giving him quick morning forehead kisses before work as he sleepily tried to cling onto your waist.

Wrapping a strong arm around you, locking you permanently to his side.

You had no idea how his sheer strength kept you in place as he lazily laid on the bed, but after much convincing that you had to fulfill your portion of the rent and several kisses to Jason’s face, did he finally let you go.

As much as it pained you to leave, you loved the wrinkled clothes left by his adamance to throw you back on the mattress next to him.

It felt like every weekday, he was getting closer to convincing you to drop everything, ditch the city, go off-grid and live deep in the woods surviving off berries and spring water, but alas you silently trudged yourself to the bus stop.

You left like a soldier going off to war, sworn to duty while their partner, like Jason, held their tears and waved a white handkerchief as the city bus wisped you away to 8+ hours of labor.

Both of your schedules, opposite of one another, never aligned. Jason swung the city in the peak of the night, under the stars and amongst the ongoing sirens, but you had the most torturous criminal in all of Gotham, a 9-5. It waited for you, forbade you from staying out too late.

You once joked to Jason over dinner that he should leave a small token of…warning to your boss, for a needed day off, but when Jason didn’t laugh and comfort you like you expected, you made sure to make him pinky promise he wouldn’t physically or mentally harm your boss.

When he wouldn’t wrap his pinky with yours, you refused to eat the warm meal he cooked. After dismissing every possible way he could make your boss beg, he reluctantly sworn the great promise of pinkies to not do any permanent harm in favor of you eating.

With a worrisome look, you took slow bites, watching Jason act like he didn’t create new torture tactics at a family dining table.

After another additional verbal reassurance from the man and an unconvincing sigh, he only agreed that if you promised to never miss a goodbye kiss before work, then he would follow any rule you set.

So far, no broken promises and no mass emails about a sudden company shut down due to threats, so it was a win?

Even then, they could force you to work remote, so unless Jason unrelentingly asks Tim to shut down all power and service in the area, you still had to be a working citizen.

The commute to and from work already took up most of your minimal free time, so it felt like you woke up to work, ate a quick meal, then fell asleep to wait for the next work day.

Luckily in the rare moments, Jason got to get a quick kiss on your shoulder before going out for patrol. Usually you were passed out on the couch, but with a beautifully handwritten note from your lover, you woke up on the bed thanks to Jason carrying you.

You needed a Jason recharge soon, but that had to be until the weekend and for work to even out before you got that luxury.

While the clothes were being washed, you started a small water to clean the dishes.

Soapy bubbles coating your hands as you washed the utensils that Jason used to make you daily lunches.

You almost cry at every lunch, adoring the beautiful meal that graced you, made with the scarred and gentle hands of Jason.

With the last pot placed on the drying rack, you sent one last text for the night.

You: clothes in the wash, was gonna put them in the dryer but i’m frog blinking and i need to sleep \(o-0)/

jay: ok, got the dishes when i get back :)

You: already washed them :(((

jay: how dare u be a responsible adult

You: i’ll repent 😔

jay: 12 years in the slammer, community service, and a lunch date with me on saturday

You: yes sir 🫡 i promise to reduce my sentence for good behavior

As you finished brushing your teeth, you noticed Jason’s jacket thrown on the couch.

You were surprised he didn’t take it out on patrol, but after the last stabbing incident there were relatively large holes in the sleeves and pocket.

You were grateful that most of the damage was in the jacket and not Jason, but he still kept it.

After looking at its sad state, you offered to shop for a new jacket together, but Jason was reluctant. Saying it could be fixed.

With a small smile, you grabbed the coat, grabbing your mending kit that you got for free from a hotel you stayed at a while back.

You messily stitched the first hole, but after finding the right pace, muscle memory kicked in and you finished up the stitching.

Not the best work, but you hoped the dark color would hide any mishaps and make it seamless.

When the handiwork was done, you left the jacket as you saw it and went to bed.

—

When work eased up, you almost got to see Jason for a full evening.

You cuddled on the couch, your legs over his, leaning on the pillows.

Engrossed in the movie, but time for patrol was near and Jason had to move your legs and get up to get his gear on.

When he reappeared from the bedroom, you saw the mended jacket back on his broad shoulders.

With a quick kiss goodbye, a quiet shut from the window, you finished the movie. Happy that you managed to save the jacket that Jason refused to let go.

After a couple nights, work was tougher on your body than usual and the jacket was back on the couch. A new tear on the sleeve that you closed up.

The several patchwork was starting to concern you.

You have to convince him that he needed a new jacket. One without tears preferably.

“Jay, I’m running out of thread. I think it’s time.” You tiredly held the worn out jacket in your lap. Poking the needle into the fabric, careful to not prick yourself.

“No, it’s still got some life. Since you’ve sewn it, it’s never looked better.” Jay washed the dishes.

“I’ve heard Roy ask if you tried to sew it yourself. I know it’s not the best work, but even you’re more meticulous than I am.” You knotted the end of the thread, cutting off the excess.

“Roy can’t even tie his shoes, so don’t listen to him.” Jason turned on the faucet, letting the water flow into the sink.

“I know we’re both busy, but I can run to the store after work to buy you one. I saw a really nice one that would look great, It’s not far and I can take the next bus—“ You tried to reason.

“Absolutely not, you already know how I feel about you taking that route so late.” Jason scrubbed the plate.

“I’ll go with a coworker, we do leave in groups anyway. It’s just once—“ You sighed, folding the jacket.

“No, this isn’t something you can convince me on.” Jason placed the glass plate down, a little more harshly than he wanted, but he grabbed a mug without stopping. “I have to meet Babs and Steph to talk about the recon tomorrow, I won’t be in the area.” Sternness filled Jason’s voice, unconvinced.

“Jason, we’ve talked about this, I can go—“

“I don’t want to risk it.” Jason held the cup, frustration in his eyes as he stared it down.

“But, I want to do this for you. We haven’t—“ You pushed, exhaustion making your patience thin.

“I said no!” Jason raised voice, shutting yours down.

The mug shattered in the sink. Jason flinched as if even he was shocked by his own reaction.

The faucet continuously ran water as all noise surrounding you stopped. Like it was inconsiderate to the tension that built in your apartment.

You sat for a moment before walking over to shut the water off.

“I’m—I’m so—“ Jason fumbled.

You looked into the sink, at the aftermath of the pieces of the mug that had snipped his fingers.

You calmly grabbed the sponge soaking up Jason’s blood as he stood there, letting you maneuver his body like a puppet.

You can rinse and sanitize the dishes later, but you grabbed a kitchen towel. Letting Jason sit at the dining table as you patched him up.

“I’m not mad, Jay. I was just surprised.” You disinfected his cuts, no reaction from Jason, probably from years of experienced pain. Years of trying to patch himself up.

It saddened you.

You didn’t realize the privilege of hating the pain of paper cuts and not stab wounds. Hating the sting of alcohol, not digging out bullets out of your skin.

“I know we haven’t seen each other and I’ve been missing you.” You cleaned up the miscellaneous bandage wrappers and sat in front of Jason. “But, you’re more stubborn than usual about this new jacket.”

You looked at Jason who was avoiding your eyes, rubbing at the bandages covering his skin.

With a sigh, he reached for your hand. A silent reassurance as he found the words.

“I’ve missed you too. That jacket—it’s been with me since I’ve met you. I’ve had it too long to just get rid of it.” He admitted, fluffy hair drooping the more he talked.

He continued.

“It’s just…hard to part with it. When I saw the new stitches, it felt good that a part of you was with me on patrol. We’ve also been so busy, I can only see you for a split second before one of us leaves. I know you wanna replace it, but…I need it.” Jason rubbed at your knuckles.

You put your hands on top of Jason’s, reciprocating the rubs as you listened.

“I didn’t know.” You gazed up to Jason, who hung his head down.

Vulnerability was a step that both of you had to learn. You focused too much on Jason, constantly forgetting about your own feelings and Jason still needed help in rightfully expressing his emotions.

You had barely made time to enjoy each other and despite living with one another, you weren’t updated in each other’s lives.

“I’m sorry.” You pecked Jason’s hands.

“Why are you apologizing? I raised my voice and broke a cup.” Jason leaned forward, hesitantly bringing his face and body closer to yours.

You stayed still, not to frighten his advances, to tell him it was okay.

“I would’ve known about this if I had made time for us. I’ve been so focused on work that I haven’t been able to even do simple chores.” You touched your forehead to Jason’s. “I’m so tired. I just want to sleep in next to you and go for a lunch date. But even that’s asking for too much, I guess.”

The vulnerability covered the two of you in a single blanket. Protecting and helping both of you finally be honest.

“No, no, don’t apologize for that. I was ready to help you in any way I could.” Jason kissed your eyelids as you closed them, the exhaustion slowly easing from your bones as you kept contact with him.

He held your face, hands wrapped in bandages.

“All I ask is you take care of yourself.” Jason whispered. Watching your lips, watching your eyes.

“All I need is my Jason recharge. I’m on empty.” You lightly chuckled, sleepiness apparent in your voice.

“I think I could spare some time.” Jason teased, kissing the corner of your lips.

You nudged his shoulder playfully.

“Shut up and kiss—.” You breathlessly pulled at Jason’s shirt.

Before you could even finish your request, Jason leaned in, using his thumb to rest on your chin, opening your mouth for him.

The rhythm was slow.

Jason always started like that, letting you control how far and how soon you wanted him.

Your face heated, letting feeling take over.

Your grip on his shirt got tighter.

Jason pulled your chair closer.

When it wasn’t close enough, he grabbed you to sit on his lap.

Effortlessly, you rested yourself on his thighs, making your body flush with his.

Grabbing at the roots of his hair, you tried to inhale his hums.

Your imaginary battery was slowly filling, maybe you would need to take this a step further for a full recharge.

As Jason’s grip got stronger on your skin, your breaths louder, and the more you pulled at his hair, he got more restless.

In one lift, Jason got you off his lap, laying you onto the dining table.

He leaned his body between your legs.

You watched his beautiful flush face as he lifted your shirt, his hands just as flushed as he kissed down your abdomen.

“Jay, I think I’m too tired to help you.” You breath hitched.

“Relax, this is my recharge too.” Jason leaned his cheek on the inside of your thighs, kissing the sensitive skin before a call rung from his phone.

It vibrated repeatedly as Jason continued to keep his attention on you.

When the ringing stopped, you could focus again.

Then the same ringtone started again as Jason’s face scrunched.

“Dammit, I’m gonna kill whoever—“ Jason reluctantly walked away from the table you laid on.

“You better be on the verge of dying, so I can go over there and finish the job, Dickwad.” Jason watched you sit up.

Another huff came out of his mouth as he was not pleased that he wasn’t getting his alone time with you.

Then your phone rung from the chair you were previously on.

Your stupid boss had decided to call about some other task he thought was too important for him.

With reluctance, you answered.

Both of you were disappointedly looking at each other as you were both occupied.

When both calls ended, you silently stared at each other.

You sat on the edge of the table and Jason stood in front of you.

He offered you a hand and you slowly fell into Jason. Burying your face into his chest.

“Sadly, we’re both needed somewhere. I think we need to take a rain check.”

“Can’t believe I have to set up an appointment to get laid.” Jason sighed into you.

You laughed out loud.

“Maybe if a miracle happened tomorrow, but we have the weekend.” You kissed Jason one last time.

—

The next morning, you woke up passed your alarm. Jason’s muscular arms and his even breaths were too soothing that it blocked out the repeated ringing.

The bus was arriving in 15 minutes.

You rushed outta bed, grabbing your keys, putting on mismatching socks on the floor.

Jason lazily perched his head up at all your movement, absently watching you run around.

“Sweethe—“ He called out.

“Shit, did I finish the report?” You ran to grab your laptop.

“My lo—“

“My watch! Crap, I didn’t iron my shirt for the meeting today.” You grabbed your bag.

“What about—“ Jason tried to interrupt.

“I gotta go, but let’s eat out tonight? I’ll call you when I get off.” You ran out the door, blowing air kisses to Jason.

You barely managed to get on the bus before the doors shut and you were scrambling to get yourself in a seat.

After a deep breath, you were gonna make it to work.

A late start, but you made it. You stepped off the bus, walking to the large building that made your jaw drop the first time you laid eyes on it, but it didn’t seem all that spectacular after a couple years of seeing it.

As you were walking, several people were rushing out the building.

Crowds walking out in large strides, taking what they could as papers fumbled out the doors.

You watched in confusion.

What sick villain was wreaking havoc on your building at eight in the morning?

You were about to turn around when your coworker bumped into you.

“Thank goodness you’re out. I was worried when I couldn’t find you.” They grabbed your arm, giving you a once over as you stood there.

“What happened?” You looked up at the building. It seemed fine.

“We gotta go, they got the boss and I don’t wanna be next.” Your coworker pushed you across the street, trying to get you farther from the sea of people shoving you outta the way.

“What?”

“I don’t know, but it all happened so fast, then all the alarms started and ya know when shit starts happening you gotta get outta there. One moment I was making scans, then the boss’ computer flew right by head and his glass walls were shattering. I saw the back of a big red guy and I just got this job, so I ran. I only need to see the back of Nightwing, if you know what I mean—“ You coworker rambled.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes widening at the realization.

“That son of a—“ You raised your voice before your phone rung from your pocket.

You angrily tapped the accept button before you were yelling at the invisible person, yanking your arm out of your coworkers.

“You crazy motherfucker—“ You swerved your body back toward the building, tension built up in your bones that you could only angrily walk back to the building in chaos.

Tons of employees dodging you.

“You forgot your lunch, so I decided to deliver it myself. I hope I got the right floor—“ Jason sung into the phone, walking past a suited man kneeling on the floor, glass digging into his knees.

“What are you doing?!” You marched to the front entrance, gripping your phone as you shoved the doors open.

Jason walked over to sit in the swivel chair, pushing himself to spin once and throw his boots on the overpriced desk. Not caring about dirtying the papers on it.

“Don’t worry, my love. We all make mistakes. We can all be forgetful.”

“What?!” You pushed the elevator button, waiting for the doors to open, but the wait only made you angrier.

“You broke a promise, sweetheart.” Jason spun a pen on his finger, letting gravity and motion balance the pen perfectly.

“What are you talking about.” You entered the elevator and pushed the button for your floor.

“You can’t even remember.” Jason glanced over to your boss still on the floor, motioning with his hands dramatically pointing to the phone. “What am I going to do? This is ridiculous, right?”

Despite your boss not being able to hear the conversation, he fearfully nodded his head quickly, not quite understanding why the Red Hood made a visit in broad daylight. Sweat beating on his forehead.

As Jason counted the elevator rings for every floor you passed, he smiled while on you stayed on the line.

Covering the bottom half of the phone, Jason looked at your boss, his helmet staring down the man.

“Beat it.” Jason commanded, not an ounce of the sweet playfulness he spoke with before.

Your boss was frozen, scared and confused as he looked back at the vigilante sitting in his chair.

In one motion, Jason nodded at the door, never saying another word as your boss ran out the door, throwing his body into the emergency exit stairwell, hopping down the steps.

Now with the man gone, Jason strolled to the elevator.

“You better be gone when I get there Jason Peter Todd—“ As soon as the elevator doors opened, Jason grabbed you, swinging you into his arms as he lifted his helmet and passionately kissed you in the aftermath he created.

In one woozy turn, you were back on your feet as you tried to process everything.

“Now that you fulfilled your promise, I would tell you to have a nice day at work, but, well…” Jason glanced around the office floor. Some lights burnt out and others flickered. You watched as glass littered the floor and chairs were thrown as everyone fled their way out. “You might be out for a couple days. The food is probably cold anyway, so let’s go out for lunch instead.” Jason grabbed you by your waist as he led you to a window he smashed open.

He smugly took your hand and swung your arms as he spoke, overjoyed.

“Watch your step, please.”

“You’re so dead when we get home.” You grabbed onto his arm, afraid to look out the edge of the building.

“What’s another death?” Jason held you tightly to his side. “If it’s by your hands, I’d face death any day.” He looked at you through the red helmet, his words modulated. It would’ve been swoon worthy if he didn’t just evacuate your entire work building, probably humiliated your boss, and costed you your job.

“I’m for sure fired.” You hit your head against Jason’s chest plate.

“Tim wiped all the service and power a mile out. Cameras stopped working before I even stepped in here. I tampered with the security myself, a personal touch. It’s like you weren’t even here, besides your boss isn’t so innocent, but Dick’s got him, he owes me for last night.” Jason’s gloves rested on your sides.

“How did you even convince him?” You couldn’t believe Jason would even ask for the help.

“Blackmail.”

You didn’t believe a second of anything that came out of Jason’s mouth.

After you gave a blank face to Jason, his helmet was looking back at you until he finally broke.

“Fine, it was a humiliating picture of Bruce I’ve kept for the perfect opportunity.”

“You risked all that because I forgot a goodbye kiss?” You raised an eyebrow.

“That you promised.” Jason emphasized.

You could only laugh out of disbelief.

“Fair enough.” You looked out toward the blue sky, wind picking up against your face at this height. “Your banned from any kisses for a week for this.”

“Sorry, wind is picking up!” Jason fell out the window with you in his arms. Grappling hook dragging your bodies across the city.

[alesandraelin]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍 - 𝙰𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝙵𝙲 𝚡 𝚃𝚎𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Description: reader's parents kicked her out and she is struggling. The team is always there for her.

awfc x teen!reader Kim Little x teen!reader

*Homophobic parents, self worth issues, angst with a happy ending

Kim was the first to notice. Kim is always the first to notice if something is wrong, especially when it is something to do with her protégé.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Y/n trudged onto the football field, her heart heavy with the weight of the previous night's events. Her parents' harsh words still echoed in her mind, each syllable a reminder of the home she no longer had. The field, usually a place of solace and escape, felt foreign and unwelcoming today. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it clung to her like a second skin.

As the team gathered for their morning warm-up, Y/n forced a smile, hoping it would mask the turmoil inside. Her teammates chatted animatedly, their laughter ringing out in the crisp morning air. Y/n moved through her stretches mechanically, her mind elsewhere. She was grateful for the routine, something familiar to hold onto amidst the chaos.

Jonas blew the whistle, signaling the start of a new drill. This one involved quick footwork and passing accuracy, requiring each player to move swiftly between cones while maintaining control of the ball. Y/n took her position, determined to push through the haze of her thoughts. She moved with the group, her feet dancing around the cones, but her usual grace was missing. The ball slipped away from her, rolling out of bounds.

"Come on, Y/n! Keep your head in the game!" Jonas called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/n nodded, forcing herself to concentrate. She retrieved the ball, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. As she resumed the drill, she caught sight of Viv and Beth, her teammates and a couple, working together seamlessly. Their movements were in sync, a testament to their understanding of each other both on and off the field. Y/n felt a pang of envy mixed with admiration. The ease with which they expressed their love was something she had always longed for, yet it was the very thing that had driven a wedge between her and her family.

Nearby, Katie and Caitlin, another couple on the team, were laughing as they practiced passing the ball back and forth. Their joy was infectious, and Y/n couldn't help but smile despite herself. Yet, the sight also served as a stark reminder of her own situation. While her teammates were embraced for who they were, she had been shunned by her own family for loving women. The injustice of it all gnawed at her, threatening to overwhelm her composure.

Jonas called for a water break, and Y/n gratefully took the opportunity to catch her breath. She sat on the grass, sipping from her water bottle, trying to steady her racing heart. Kyra and Vic had both attempted to talk to the girl only to be met with annoyed mumbles and blank stares. Teyah got the same treatment when she tried.

Kim watched on with a frown on her face, Jen coming to check on what she was so worried about.

"Just look at her, it like every bit of light has been sucked out of her. I can't bear it." Kim sighed as she watched you zone out, kicking at the ground aimlessly.

"You know her better than anyone Kimmy, go talk to her after practice." Jen encourages before they are all called back onto the pitch.

Training didn't get any better for the remainder of the day. Poor passes, sloppy in possession and way off target when shooting. It just wasn't good enough and Y/n knew that. The words of her parents from the previous night going through her head with every failed attempt on goal, every time she lost possession by making a silly mistake.

All the girls saw it, they noticed how sloppy her play had become. A stark contrast to her normal 110% effort every time she trained. It worried them all. They all made an effort to try and boost her up with pats on the back and words of encouragement but they were met with silence and no improvement.

Training ended as the afternoon air came in. The girl made their way off the pitch and back into the locker room. Y/n lingered back as she watched them all converse. Beth & Viv walked hand in hand into the locker room in front of y/n. This made her chest pang, it was jealousy, it was longing, it was sadness.

All the girls chatted as they got changed and packed up their stuff whilst y/n sat in her cubby trying her best not to cry. She was approached by Leah who knelt down to her height in her cubby.

"You alright chick?" The blonde asked, her brows furrowed in worry.

Y/n looked up at Leah, putting a small smile on. "I'm alright, I slept really rough last night thats all, I'm sorry for not being at by best today Lee."

"Don't apologise y/n, we all have off days. Try and get some sleep so we can get our happy girl back yeah?" Leah patted the girls shoulder as she stood up to go home.

With Leah gone, y/n looked around the locker room spotting no one there, she let her guard down and broke. Tears streamed down her face as she replayed the harsh words of the night before. Her parents' anger and disappointment had cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She hugged her knees to her chest, seeking comfort in the small, enclosed space she had created for herself.

What y/n didn't know was Kim hung around to talk to Jonas about something and had just reentered the change rooms as y/n was crying. Kim quickly made her way over to the small girl, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her close.

"Y/n?" Kim's voice was gentle, filled with concern. "What's going on sweetheart?"

Y/n quickly sat up, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "I'm fine, just tired." She tried so reason as her voice cracked and tears continued to well in her eyes.

Kim shook her head, squeezing her a little tighter. "You don't have to pretend with me. I can tell something's wrong. Do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n hesitated, the words lodged in her throat. But the kindness in Kim's eyes coaxed them out. "My parents... they kicked me out last night. I finally worked up the courage to come out. They don't love me anymore Kim." The last sentence broke her as she cried again.

Kim's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/n's voice. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Y/n's back. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. That must be incredibly painful."

Y/n nodded, her tears flowing freely now. "I just don't understand why they can't accept me. Seeing everyone else so happy and accepted... it just makes it hurt more."

Kim nodded, understanding the depth of Y/n's pain. "You deserve to be loved and accepted for who you are. And you are, Y/n. By all of us."

Y/n looked up, her eyes searching Kim's face for reassurance. "But where do I go now? I don't have anywhere else, I'm 17 I just want my parents."

Kim's expression softened further, her resolve clear. "You can stay with me, as long as you need. You're not alone. The team loves you and I love you. You are so incredibly brave and strong."

The offer hung in the air, a lifeline extended in Y/n's darkest moment. Gratitude surged through her, mingling with the sadness. "Thank you, Kim. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kim smiled, her own eyes misty with emotion. "We're a team, Y/n. We look out for each other. Arsenal is a family. You're part of our family."

Y/n leaned into Kim's side, drawing comfort from the warmth and solidarity. The locker room, once a place of routine, had become a sanctuary—a space where she could be herself without fear of judgment.

"You're so strong, Y/n," Kim continued, her voice steady. "And we'll get through this together. You've got a whole team behind you, ready to support you every step of the way."

[targaryen-dynasty]

SHADOWS PLAY ON IDLE HANDS.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x (ex-)wife!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; oral (fem receiving), p in v, missionary position, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, tiddy sucking, making up sex, angst (?)

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Based on this request. Thank you so much, @multyfangirl! 🥰 This is not beta read!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Was it silly of you to think that they’d assign a cabin to all the female supervisors to share back when you signed up to supervise your daughter’s summer camp? Most definitely, because otherwise you wouldn’t be sharing it with your ex-husband right now.

Technically, he’s your soon-to-be ex-husband, considering the divorce hasn’t yet been finalized, but still, he’s the last person you want to share a cabin with. 

It’s night four, and you two haven’t done much talking up until now. With it being a summer camp for children in the kindergarten age, your days are quite busy which allows you to stay away from him as much as possible. 

Unless it’s time for you to go to sleep. 

Walking through the cabin, you go to fetch your pajamas, ready to retire for the night. Aemond lies in his bed, a book in his hand. So far, he’s pretending to not hear you to not acknowledge you, and you’re kind of grateful for it, because it means you don’t have to watch your every move around him. 

Although you’ve been together and married for quite a few years, it does feel like you’re living around a stranger ever since you both came to the conclusion to separate five months ago, him moving out of the house quite early probably playing a big part in it. 

The divorce certainly would settle sooner, if it wasn’t for your daughter, and you both don’t want to make it more traumatizing for her like it already is. 

His voice is somewhat soft when it cuts through the silence, speaking your name and making you flinch and stop on your way to a little nook to get changed in private. 

You can’t deny the warmth that spreads through your body at the sound of it. “Mh?” you raise your brow, looking at him from over your shoulder. 

Despite his lingering eye secretly watching you, he turns his gaze back to the book in his hand. “I need to ask you a question,” he says almost nonchalantly, trying to keep his voice quieter so as to not disturb the silence that surrounds you. 

The mixed signals make you frown, and you shrug your shoulders before disappearing in the little nook. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” you state rather matter-of-factly than asking. There comes no reply from him, obviously waiting until you're back in view. 

As you emerge from the cranny, you’re dressed in one of his older band shirts that reach your mid-thighs, covering the short, pink shorts you wear. You still sleep in his clothes, despite you separating quite a few months ago, a habit you had picked up pretty early into your relationship. The memories you connect with his old t-shirts always manage to lift up your spirits, remembering the good old days. 

It’s obvious he tries to keep himself occupied with the book, the slight struggle always drawing his eye back towards you. There’s some nostalgia seeing you dressed in his old stuff as well as the shorts only you can get away with wearing. 

Heat spreads on your cheeks as you walk towards your bed, slipping under the covers so his eye would finally stop devouring you. You’re not one to start arguments, especially with the summer camp having barely started, but you know there are some unresolved issues between you two that he’s dying to talk about.  “Your question, Aemond?” 

And then he finally closes his book, placing it on the nightstand table next to his bed to focus all of his attention on you. A shiver runs down your spine at that, and you subconsciously straighten your back. 

“Do you miss me?”

The question surprises you as you don’t expect your ex-husband to ask you such an open question. You’re used to him being a bit more closed off and dismissive when it comes to your relationship, but on the other hand he was never one to beat about the bush. 

You’re left speechless for a moment, until you find the courage to answer in all honesty. “Yes, I do.” There’s no denying it. Not when you’re still wearing his clothes to bed. 

What you don’t expect is the simple “hm” that rumbles in his throat, clearly pleased at your hesitance, before he moves to turn away from you. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line at his reaction, you rub your hands against each other. Taking in a deep breath, you sit up straighter. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right? If anything, our marriage failed because of us, not because of one person alone.”

With the light of the moon shining through the windows of your cabin, highlighting the outline of Aemond, you can spot his body tense slightly at your words, but he does not turn around to face you again. 

He doesn’t speak as he takes in a breath, lying there motionless. The silence seems to stretch on for some time until it’s broken by him. “So, you don’t blame me?”

The urge to scoff at his words is hard to resist, but you manage, wanting to keep the air surrounding you as vulnerable and soft as it is right now. You shake your head, despite him not seeing it at all. “Of course not, Aemond,” you say. “Your father’s death hit us both quite hard, and with the winter fever depression on both sides we just couldn’t support each other through that period of time, I think. Maybe if we would have figured something needed to change, we wouldn’t have called it quits.”

Aemond is quickly reminded of how comfortable he’s always felt around you when you were younger and still together. He has expected that you would simply grow to despise one another completely, and not that you would take the matter into an empathic approach. 

“I should have been more attentive to you,” he says as he remains facing away from you. 

You’re pleasantly surprised about his answer, despite how short it is. The conversation you two are having heads down a more personal route, and it’s something you’re rather enjoying. You’re impressed by the new sense of maturity that he seems to have acquired ever since you parted ways. 

“Bullshit. We should have been more attentive to each other,” you retort, your tone as empathetic as you can make it without seeming over-soft.

“That’s true,” he says. He finally turns around, his eye finding yours. “We weren’t good for each other, were we?”

“And that’s not true,” you counter. “We had our flaws, yes, but if we hadn't been good for each other, our little girl wouldn’t have turned out the way she did. She’s amazing, and that’s to our credit.”

It’s a wonder to the both of you how your daughter turned out so well in spite of all the chaos that goes on between you and your divorce, and truly shows that you two must have done something right in your relationship. 

You sigh, thinking back to fond memories that make you chuckle. “Oh God, I was so cross with you during the birth. The audacity of you holding my hand and asking if I'm okay while I screamed and moaned for my life.”

The story makes him laugh. “Fuck, that was an experience. I’ll never forget you screaming ‘Do you THINK I’m okay?’ as you really squeezed the life out of me. I don’t know who was in more pain at that moment.”

Only with his narrative of the moment do you notice how amusing the memory truly is, painting the perfect picture of a couple in love in the midst of chaos. 

“You scared the wits out of me,” he adds, chuckling. 

Bending your legs at the knees, you make yourself more comfortable, not yet ready to fall asleep. Aemond watches you as you lick your lips. "To be fair, I really thought I’d go through it all alone, because you looked like you were going to faint when they gave me the epidural.”

You recall the sheer terror that was written all over his face as he watched you give birth to your daughter. Something you hadn’t seen before. 

“To this day, I don’t think that I have ever known so many feelings at once as I did when I saw you give birth,” he says, letting his gaze wander off to the side for a moment. “But I’ve pulled myself together, because you know I would have never lived that moment down. You would have made a whole show of it.”

“Oh, most definitely. It would have been my go-to story for so many family gatherings, because no one would believe me you’d faint. Aegon? Maybe, but you? Never,” you scoff. 

Aemond lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I was a real wuss during that moment. Perhaps you should have taken out your phone after the birth to record my reaction.”

You raise your brow, shooting him a glare. “That would have been an idea, because then we’d at least have some first photos of her during the check-up that don’t have me in the background naked, sweating and delivering the placenta.”

He smirks at the glare, not minding as it’s actually quite amusing to see you angry at him again for something not too serious. “That would have been a memory to remember. You, all sweaty after giving birth, and then there’s me, unconscious from seeing you give birth.”

The image makes you chuckle. “To be fair, we were quite young when that happened.”

“Too young, but we’ve worked out well enough in dealing with it, haven't we?”

You find yourself nodding in response to his words of confirmation. “Yes, in spite of all the hardships that surrounded us, we have managed quite well with her. We’ve been the best parents that we both have been able to be… together or not.” There’s a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “How’s Vhagar faring with it? Meraxes does miss her sometimes.”

Aemond smiles fondly as he hears your words, more so that you inquire of his precious girl. “She misses him dearly,” he says, but he can’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to your words than just the wellbeing of your dogs. He smiles softly, and turns his head to look at you. “Just like I miss you.”

Your body feels as if it’s on fire with his confession, and you can’t keep your gazes locked. It’s all too much and not enough at once. And when Aemond lifts his blanket, gesturing for you to crawl over to him, you know he feels the same. 

“This bed is big enough for two,” he whispers. 

You’ve been rather stunned at the invitation, yet, you accept it without hesitation. Climbing out of your bed and into his feels all too natural for you, and his body next to yours is a feeling you’ve come to know quite well in your past but has been missing for some time. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but there’s no discomfort or tension between you.

Keeping a fair distance from him isn’t something you master, failing the moment his scent fills your nostrils and urges you to bury your head in the crook of his neck. Snuggling up against him, you’re sure to never leave the bed the moment his arms wrap around you. 

He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent he’s clearly missed just as much as you missed his. The way you feel with your head resting against his jaw makes it hard for him to suppress the urge to pull you even closer to him for fear of pushing you away. 

It’s just both of your breathing filling the otherwise silent room, broken as he speaks. “I missed this.”

It certainly was dangerous to get so close to him, apparent in your half-lidded eyes as you pulled back to look at him. Your gaze flickers between his and his lips, your faces but mere inches apart. “I missed this, too.”

Encouraged by your words, Aemond brings his hand to your cheek, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheekbone, his own breathing becoming heavy as he watches you. 

The way you look back at him nearly causes him to lose the last bit of control he clings to as he desires you with a fire he hasn’t felt in a very long time. When his other hand comes to the back of your head and he leans in, you lick your lips which is more than enough to send him over the edge. 

His hand begins to slide down your back as his thumb traces your bottom lip, heat following in its wake. And then he dips his head forward enough to capture your lips, melting against each other.

Coaxed by his hand slipping beneath the oversized t-shirt you wear, you grip the collar of his t-shirt and pull him closer to you, not daring to break the kiss. His hands are impatient to tug on the flimsy shorts you wear, and you shimmy your way out of them as he pulls them down your legs. 

Your heavy breath fans over his kiss-swollen lips as you pull back from him to speak. Aemond doesn’t wait to hear your words, diving in to press his lips to your jaw and neck. “We… We should not… the divorce…” you trail off, panting heavily and suddenly well aware of how tightly you’re pressed against him. 

Bringing his hands to your belly, the hem of your shirt is riled up and pooling around your waist. “It doesn’t matter,” he rasps against your skin. “Just this one night…”

You nod, letting out a soft moan as he cups your breast. “One little night of bliss…” you mewl. 

It’s clear that the proximity to him gets you just as hot as he is, no longer trying to resist and giving into the feeling you’ve been fighting back for so long. There’s no resistance left in you, clearly forgetting all the bad things that have happened before. You don’t know what will happen between you two tomorrow morning or the day after that, but you can’t bring yourself to care about it at this moment. 

With your hands still fisting his shirt, you pull his body between your legs, the weight of his tall frame heavy on top of you now. He ruts against you as your lips meet again, moving roughly against yours as his hard cock strains against the boxer briefs he wears. You instinctively grind against him, desperate for any kind of friction against your needy pussy. 

The kiss is hardly broken as you pull the shirt over his head, exposing his alabaster skin and well toned torso, only for you to not admire it as he starts to nibble on your bottom lip. 

You trace your fingers across his torso, trailing lower until they hook beneath the waistband of his briefs. “I need you,” you whine, tugging at the elastic to encourage him to slip out of it. But Aemond merely tsks at that. 

“Easy there,” he drawls, mimicking your gesture with his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He shifts to the side and pulls them down your legs, prompting you to shimmy your way out of them to help him. 

The blankets have long found their way down the bed, laying in a pile right next to it, and therefore you gasp when the cold air hits your soaked core. 

Aemond gets back between your legs again, scooting back and crouching down to kiss his way up your inner thighs, draping them over his shoulders. The moan you release brings heat to your cheeks, more so when his tongue makes contact with your cunt and coaxes another one to slip past your lips.

“You’re drenched,” he remarks smugly, dark blown eye gazing up at you from between your legs. 

Rolling your eyes at that, you entangle a hand into his hair and push his face down between your legs. “Don’t be such a tease now.”

Clearly not minding this bossy side at all, Aemond gets straight to the point. His lips wrap around your little bundle of nerves, and one suck of him already has you arching your back and rolling your hips like a bitch in heat. He alternates between gentle sucking and tracing it with his tongue, driving you insane  

Less than half a year apart and you’ve already forgotten just how good he is at putting his mouth to work. 

Two of his fingers slowly ease inside of you, expertly brushing your sweet spot in a come hither motion that has you tightly locking your legs around his head, not caring if it would crush or suffocate him. With one hand still in his hair, you tug on it not-so-gently which has Aemond groaning against your folds. 

The knot in your belly tightens all too quickly with the pace he sets up, lapping and sucking at your clit in tandem with his fingers scissoring in and out of you. But it doesn’t seem like that’s what Aemond wants. Being able to read all the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he stops his ministrations without missing a beat. 

You’re baffled, the pleasure disappearing at once. When you look down at him, you spot his chin, lips and cheeks coated in your arousal, glistening in the dim light the moon casts through the windows. “W-What?” you whimper with a pout, trying to force his head back down again. But Aemond is stronger, making it clear he’s just played with you before. 

Watching him lick the remnants of your arousal from his swollen lips, you can’t help but moan, liquid fire coursing through your veins and making your longing for him even more apparent. 

“You don’t think I’m going to savor your first orgasm with my tongue, do you?” he asks matter-of-factly, peeling your legs off of him and sitting back on his haunches.

The breath hitches in your throat not only at his words, but also at the tip of his cock peeking from beneath the waistband of his briefs. He’s rock hard and aching, wanting to be buried inside of you. 

“Five months I had to live without this sweet pussy of yours, and I won’t spend any longer not being buried inside of it.”

Staring at his throbbing cock, you bite your bottom lip and nod almost in a sheepish manner. You pulling the shirt over your head and spreading your legs is all it takes for Aemond to rid himself of his briefs, one hand curling around his shaft as the other grabs you by your hip, pulling you towards him. 

He drags the bulbous tip of his cock through your drenched folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, your arousal making it easy for his thick cock to breach your tightness with little resistance.

The feeling of your pussy desperately sucking him inside until he’s buried to the hilt is a feeling of indescribable bliss that has you releasing a shaky breath in unison. Your hands fly to his shoulders for leverage, holding onto him as he towers over you, tall frame completely shielding your significantly smaller one. 

“Gods, I… forgot how big you are,” you breathe, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes. 

He brings a hand to your waist, and places the other next to your head, keeping himself supported as he begins to grind his hips against yours. “Hm, fuck, we’ll get you used to it again tonight, princess,” he rasps, heavy panting audible in between the words. The pet name makes you clench around him. Oh, how your body has longed for him. 

You unravel beneath Aemond, arching your back and tipping your head back into the cheap pillows, the sight not making it easier for him to stay composed enough to not come on spot. 

And that’s when he moves to press his chest flush against yours, holding your cheek with one hand, whilst the other grabs the side of the headboard. His lips find the side of your face, kissing along your jaw, earlobe and down the side of your neck. You have your head tilted to the side, granting him even more access as the weight of his body stops you from squirming beneath him and rolling your hips. 

“Fuck, missed you so, so much,” he murmurs against your skin, drunk on your pussy. “All mine… won’t let you leave again.” 

You cross your arms behind his neck, one hand entangling into his silken, silver strands. Every time you try to arch against him, your hard nipples press against his chest. 

“Don’t want to,” you reply. 

Whimpering and whining beneath him, Aemond’s heavy grunts and groans fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on even more. There’s no rush to his movements, the both of you clearly savoring the moment of peace and making up for all the time you’ve lost, and yet it’s enough to build the pressure within your belly again.

The sparse, coarse hairs splayed around the base of his cock and over his pubic bone drag over your sensitive clit with the ruts of his hips, sending a shiver up your spine each time. His thrusts are gentle but determined, reaching deep and expertly brushing your sweet spot, and he fucks sweet, little mewls and moans out of your throat, filling the cabin.  

His thumb presses into your cheek to turn your face towards him, and you’re eagerly welcomed by his lips, capturing yours in a fervent and heated kiss. His lips move sensually against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth and alternating with his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. 

As he withdraws his lips from yours, a dark blown eye watching your blissed out expression, you try to chase them for yet another kiss, but he keeps your head in place. His lips are puckered slightly, and the thought of what’s to come makes your insides churn in a good way, becoming limp in your reverie. 

“Show me your tongue,” he commands, and you do as he says.  

Parting your lips and sticking out your tongue, you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes. As the warm puddle of his saliva hits it, you’re all too eager to swallow it down, moaning softly as the taste of him spreads on your tongue. 

“You’re gonna come for me now?” he drawls, pressing his chest against yours and dipping his head forwards to capture your earlobe between his teeth. It’s a grazing touch, but still has goosebumps prickling on your skin.

The coil inside of you tightens quickly with all sensations hitting you at once and the deep desire to please him, and you’re once again surprised by how well Aemond knows your body, strumming it like a fiddle and always getting what he wants. 

You convulse all over him with a whine, your hips grinding against his as the white, hot pleasure courses through your veins. But his thrusts don’t stutter, keeping the sensual intensity to the point you’re losing your mind. 

“That’s it,” he coos through gritted teeth. “Fuck, missed the pretty face you make when you’re coming all over my cock, hm.” You’re not sure whether it’s his pubic bone still dragging over your clit, his cock still sliding in and out of you, or if his praise alone is enough to prolong your orgasm, but you feel yourself keening at his words. 

It takes him a couple more thrusts that slowly bring you to the point of overstimulation, until his own orgasm washes over him. His cock is twitching and throbbing as your walls squeeze him for every drop of his seed, spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. 

Aemond fucks you both through the aftershocks, a white ring of your mixed juices forming around the base of his thick shaft. But as his jaw slackens and he moves to pull out of you, you’re quick to lock your legs around his hips and flip him onto his back, giving neither of you time to get to grips with the events that transpire between you. 

The quizzical look he flashes you as you sit astride him encourages you to roll your hips against his, riding him through the overstimulation. “Maybe… maybe it would be a good idea to see someone about this,” you breathe, grabbing his hands and planting them at your waist. “A couple therapist perhaps, so we can talk through some of the issues that have come up between us, to resolve the root of all our issues…”

He sits up straight, snaking one arm around your waist to keep your body against his as his mouth finds your hard nipple, suckling and nibbling on it. The other hand fondles and gropes at your breast, squeezing it rather roughly. “Maybe that isn’t such a bad idea,” he groans against your skin, licking a flat stripe along the curve of your breast. “We…” his voice catches in this throat with you starting to ride him more fervently. “We should do that, yes.”

Neither of you is certain if the other’s words are genuine or just spoken in the heat of the moment, but it feels as though you’re seeing eye to eye in this moment. Something your relationship has been missing for a very long time. For the remainder of the night, you both seek to get what you still crave from each other, sharing countless orgasms and an unusually passionate embrace. 

However, as the night comes to an end with the light of the next day breaking through the windows of the cabin, and you wake up in Aemond’s arms, you figure that there was truth to your words and that you both strive to save and improve your marriage again. 

[pickingupmymercedes]

It sounds silly - Lewis Hamilton

Request: "Also if you have time or want to could you write something where the reader is struggling with a self image issue and where Lewis gives words of encouragement?" -@chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: bit of angst, self image problems, body image discussions.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Tooth rooting fluff coming right up. I mean it, you guys are not ready for the levels of softness in this. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the request. My mind went wild with this one.

a/n.2: BTW a good friend of mine proof read it and we tried something different with the writting, so please give me a heads up on what you guys feel and how it compares to the previous fics

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The reason you gave for canceling your dinner date with Lewis seemed trivial, even childish. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, confronting your reflection—a vulnerable woman who felt the sting of her insecurities more acutely than she'd like to admit. The muted light from the overhead fixture highlighted the lines of worry on your face, adding to the ambiance of tension that filled the room.

You had told Lewis that a migraine was to blame, but there you were, with smudged makeup and half-curled hair, staring at an Instagram post that had reignited old insecurities. The post was a fan-made video showcasing all of Lewis's past girlfriends, and while he seemed content with each of them, his smile was undeniably brightest with you. But you couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy when comparing yourself to his past, seemingly flawless partners.

The doorbell interrupted your thoughts. Hoping Lewis would get the hint and leave, you chose not to answer, however, when the familiar jingle of keys met your ears, you realized he was using the spare key you’d given him.

"Hey, love, where are you?" Lewis's voice resonated through the apartment. The ambient lighting in your living room painted a warm glow around him, accentuating his concerned expression. The soft, muted tones of the decor and the comforting scent of your favorite candle filled the space, an atmosphere of intimacy and familiarity to a place he was around often.

He found you in the bathroom, a vision of distress with red, swollen eyes. "What happened? Why didn't you answer the door?" he asked softly, taking in your disheveled appearance.

You hesitated, reluctant to admit the true reason for your emotional turmoil. "I told you I had a migraine," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Sensing there was more to your distress, Lewis gently tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Look at me, please," he requested softly.

Reluctantly, you met his gaze, feeling the weight of his concern. "I know it's silly, Lewis," you began, already apologizing in advance, your voice quivering. "I'm a grown woman who’s achieved success in life, yet… I find myself comparing to those other women."

His expression softened, but there was a hint of persistence in his eyes. "I sense there's more you're not telling me,” he said gently. "Love, talk to me."

Swallowing hard, you admitted, "I... I saw something on Instagram." Tears welled up again as you continued, "A fan-made video of all your past girlfriends. They were all so... beautiful and skinny. And then there’s me."

Understanding dawned on Lewis's face as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. "Oh, love," he murmured, his voice filled with an empathetic thone that only made things worse.

You buried your face in his chest, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability wash over you. "I'm sorry," you whispered, ashamed of how your insecurities got the best of you.

"Don't be," Lewis reassured you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm committed to us, to what we have. You're the one I've chosen and it’s not because of comparisons."

As you clung to each other, the weight of your insecurities began to lift, replaced by the comforting and understanding presence of the man who loved you deeply. His hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles as he whispered words of reassurance.

Wanting to shift the atmosphere and distract from the emotional weight of the conversation, Lewis suggested, "How about we make dinner together tonight?"

You nodded, grateful for the idea of focusing on something else. "Sounds good."

"How about pasta? It's quick, and I think you’ll have the ingredients," Lewis replied, already heading towards the kitchen.

As Lewis began to gather the necessary ingredients, he felt a strong urge to show you just how beautiful he found your body. Wanting to uplift your spirits and reaffirm his admiration for you, he started to become more affectionate.

While stirring the sauce on the stove, Lewis wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close to him. He pressed soft kisses along the side of your neck, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your hips and sides.

"You know," he whispered, his voice husky, "I've always found you incredibly sexy, just the way you are."

A warmth spread through you, not just from the heat of the stove but from the genuine affection and desire in Lewis's touch and words. It was moments like these that made you feel cherished and desired, erasing the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you earlier.

"I love you," you whispered, turning in his arms to press a lingering kiss on his lips.

"I love you too," Lewis replied, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. "And I'll keep reminding you every day until you believe it."

Feeling the weight of the emotional conversation lifting, you decided to show Lewis the video that had triggered your insecurities. Taking a deep breath, you handed him your phone, pointing to the Instagram post.

Lewis took the phone from your outstretched hand, unlocking it to search for the video you mentioned. He watched it in silence, his expression thoughtful as he took in each frame. When the video ended, he set his phone down and looked at you with a soft smile.

"I've had my fair share of relationships in the past, but with you, it's different. I want you to know that," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.

You looked into his eyes, hesitating for a moment before opening up. "It feels so childish. You're a superstar, and I can't help but compare myself to your past. I know it sounds silly.”

Understanding filled Lewis's eyes as he took a step closer, gently cupping your face. "I understand why you’d feel that way, but you have to know, that to me, you are more than enough. I chose you for who you are, not for how you compare to anyone else."

His words, though simple, held a depth of sincerity that touched your heart, easing the sting of your insecurities. You nodded slowly, taking in his reassuring presence.

"Thank you for being so understanding," you finally said, your voice filled with gratitude and relief.

"I'm always here for you." Lewis said, squeezing your hand gently.

As the evening wore on and dinner was ready, Lewis took a step back, extending his hand towards you. "May I have this dance?" he asked with a playful grin.

You chuckled at the unexpected request. "But there's no music."

"Who needs music?" Lewis replied, a tender smile on his face. "I just want to hold you close and dance with you."

Gratefully accepting his hand, you allowed Lewis to pull you close, placing one hand on his shoulder while he held you securely around the waist. As you began to move slowly together, you felt the gentle rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

There was no need for music. The silence between you was filled with the unspoken words of love, understanding, and acceptance. As you held each other in a tender embrace, the warmth and closeness spoke volumes, conveying love, reassurance, and unwavering support without the need for words.

In the quiet intimacy of your living room, swaying gently together, you found solace in Lewis's presence. With him by your side, you felt not just loved, but truly cherished. You knew that with him, you could open up without fear of judgment, feeling understood and supported in every moment.

As the night deepened, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the comforting cocoon of your home and him. With each passing moment, you felt more connected, more understood, and more cherished. The insecurities that once plagued you were now distant, replaced by the undeniable truth of Lewis's unwavering support.

He pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes with a mischievous grin. "We should make our own video." playfully winking at you, trying to lighten the mood further.

You laughed, swatting him lightly on the arm. The playful banter was exactly what you needed to dispel the last of your insecurities and bring a genuine smile to your face. With a chuckle, Lewis pulled you close once more, relishing in the sound of your laughter. "I mean it, though," he whispered, his voice filled with love and a hint of mischief. "I want to capture all our beautiful moments together."

Blushing at his boldness, you shook your head, your heart swelling with love for the man who always knew how to lift you up. "Maybe one day," you teased, "but for now, let's just enjoy this, yeah?!"

Lewis nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "Sounds perfect," he whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, sealing your love and the promise of many more cherished moments to come.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[jeonitopia]

BABY TIME

🪐 bts x f! pregnant! reader (separate)

🪐 headcanons // fluff+angst

☆ warnings: none except maybe no beta read !

a/n: potential part 2 for when the baby is born? depends on if people like this.. also just short hcs bcuz well.. i overdid myself and did all 7 in one post... sigh (i made tis longer than it was supposed to be wtf)

☆KIM SEOKJIN

"Aishh! you already had chocolate earlier!"

constantly watching your diet, making sure all your vitamin and certain intakes are proper

"Jin I'm craving ramyeon with milk mixed in.." "WHAT"

catching him ask his mom what she needed and what she wouldve done if she got pregnant again (he has no shame)

he's an absolute prince in your child's eyes

when he has to leave, he calls you at least every 2 hours and if he can't, he messages you!! (asking for pics of you and the baby)

in love with role-playing with the child, wether it be king and princess, or knights and bandits (you're the damsel in distress)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆MIN YOONGI

honestly, he was terrified of being a father because of his experience with his own father

once he realized the whole weight of the situation, he understood that he WILL be a good (and supportive) father because you are with him

learning that your child also has a thing for music

absolutely bringing your baby to the studio and letting him have his own crib next to his producing set-up

has noise cancelling headphones for the baby if he has to record something or when he's going to fully focus on producing

(of course has the volume on his headphones a medium volume so he can hear if the baby wakes up)

made a joke about how in daechwita, you'd be his empress and the baby is the heir

cue him posting a photo of the three of you in traditional hanbok (yoongi in daechwita outfit, without the long hair because baby will be upset)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JUNG HOSEOK

always taking photos of your progress

"look here!"

he always tries to keep you active

massages all day everydayyy

you got him to chill with the dance practices so that he both doesnt overwork himself AND you get to spend more time with him

absolutely doing the silliest things to entertain the baby

it's obvious who the favorite is 😐

showing dance moves to the baby and doing silly faces

has a picture of the three of you in hope world, he loves staring at it and just being grateful for his family

he's j-hope, you're bae-hope, baby is mini/baby-hope

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM NAMJOON

songs containing references and metaphors that relate to you and the baby (not that he DIDNT do this before)

maybe even a whole mini-album dedicated to your journey into parenthood, each song created throughout your progress till your due date

he did his thorough research on pregnancy and things related to it and constantly gives you advice

when the baby is old enough for long distance rides, family trips are a common thing

loves cradling the baby and blabbering about an art piece they're standing in front of

you're so in love? help???

he has 3 lil plants, the 3rd plant being a new sprout that he likes to say is the baby (it sprouted the day the baby was born?? omg???)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆PARK JIMIN

you became an absolute princess the moment he found out you were pregnant

wonders if the baby would grow up to have the same fingers as his papa mochi

already planning to convince the baby to try a martial art or a type of dancing so he and his papa can have multiple ways of bonding

dropping hints about the baby mochi on some of his lives

one time he asked if he can try your breastmilk

😐😑😐

teasing him about how when the baby holds his fingers, they look the same

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM TAEHYUNG

honestly you'd have around 2-3 kids

but this is your first one, taehyung is honestly nervous

absolutely SURE he wants to be a father but more worried on if he'd be a good one

at this point, he'd also be another baby

"Ack, my feet hurt quite a bit.." "AREYOUALRIGHT?DOYOUNEEDTOGOTOTHEHOSPITAL??ILLCALLDOCTORPARK"

you personally think he might be the one more stressed even when he isnt the one carrying the baby

2nd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

yeontan and the baby being bestfriends

yeontan has super instincts and starts going wild when he feels the baby is about to start crying

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JEON JUNGKOOK

he watched the movie Up with taehyung and they googled why the old couple had a miscarriage, he learned it was from lead exposure

so now he keeps you away from drying walls and dusty areas and even has a small baggy filled with masks and cleansing tissue

he calls it "baby protection protocal"

surprisingly very calm and responsible! (hes trying to win your trust so that he can spoil your child rotten)

absolutely DROPS the fact that he is having a child and dragged you into the view of the live

3rd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

baby plays with daddy's lip ring because he finds it really cool

baby also thinks daddy's sleeve tattoo is cool and always wants to slobber his saliva on it

baby wants to ride on bam's back??? 😭😭😭😭

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 10 - Hair

Content includes: Jade x reader, established relationship, soft Jade (probably OOC), hair as a lowkey metaphor (you figure it out), maybe some very light angst if you squint really hard, no dialogue

In the morning, Jade Leech’s hair is always a mess. 

It sticks up in every direction and it’s impossible to get down without using product. His morning hair is something he’s always been a bit insecure about, even if he never outwardly admits it, but you absolutely adore it. 

Seeing his hair so messy makes you feel all warm and fuzzy every time. For one, he just looks absolutely adorable with his hair all messed up, but that’s only a small part of it. You get to see his hair like this anytime you sleep over with him. He trusts you enough to see him in such a vulnerable state, which you appreciate a lot, not that you tell him that outwardly. 

During the day, Jade’s hair changes a lot. 

Most of the time it's down in its natural style. It is as neat as the rest of him, and you think he looks perfect like this. He’s presenting exactly how he wants to, and you can tell how much confidence he has when he has his hair like this. 

On rare occasions, his hair is sometimes pinned back with hair clips. This is usually when he’s doing something for alchemy or working in the kitchen of the Monstro Lounge. It’s not neat or perfect most of the time, but it’s practical, and that has its own kind of beauty. 

You like his hair pinned back. It’s not long enough to put in a ponytail, so all he can do is pin it up. As a joke, you once bought him these adorable clips with a star on the end. Each one was a different color, forming a rainbow in the packaging. You didn’t think he’d actually use them, but you thought it’d be a silly joke. 

One day you decided to visit the Monstro Lounge. Normally, Jade works at the bar section mixing drinks for customers, but Floyd has decided to ditch kitchen duty, so Jade was stuck in the back. When he heard you had come to visit, he went on break so he could sit with you. 

He came out, and the first thing you noticed were the brightly colored star clips holding his hair out of his face. You smiled but elected not to say anything, just silently appreciating that he actually used your gift. 

At night, Jade’s hair is your favorite. 

It’s messy, but not as messy as it is in the morning. After a hard day of school and work, it’s a bit messed up and sweaty, but overall as neat as it can be. At the end of the day, he loves resting in our lap as you run your hands through his hair, untangling the knots. You love it too. 

He’s calm like this. He doesn’t try to put up a front, instead just relaxing in the comfortable silence between you. Your hands occasionally scratch at his scalp, and he can’t help but lean into your touch when you do. Sometimes, you can’t help but mentally compare him to a cat. 

Regardless of the time of day, you love Jade’s hair. 

It’s an expression of who he is, and it’s a good indicator of what he’s been doing. Even though he tries to keep it neat and perfect at all times, it sometimes comes undone, and that’s okay. 

It’s not always going to be perfect, but he knows you won’t mind. He knows you’ll always be there to support him and love him, even when it’s something as simple as helping him fix his messy hair.

[its-avalon-08]

can i request a logan x reader: reader sees his ex at the paddock one day and gets insecure thinking he invited her and leaves but it turns out the ex is now dating a mechanic from another team or something like that…

just a silly idea i had and it’s totally ok if u don’t feel 100% comfortable doing it! and btw i love your writing sm

my ride or die (ls2)

✦ pairing - logan sargeant x female!reader

✦ genre - comfort, tears, angst

The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-race excitement as Y/N made her way toward Logan's garage. She spotted Logan talking with his team, a confident smile on his face. Just as she was about to call out to him, her eyes landed on a familiar figure – Emily, Logan's ex, standing a few feet away, chatting and laughing with some team members.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Why is she here?" she muttered under her breath, feeling a surge of confusion and anxiety. She approached Logan, her voice slightly shaky. "Logan, look who's here," she said, pointing discreetly toward Emily.

Logan, engrossed in a conversation with his engineer, glanced in the direction she pointed and, without really paying attention, smiled and nodded. "Yeah, great," he said absentmindedly, turning back to his discussion.

Y/N's stomach dropped. His casual reaction felt like a confirmation. She took a step back, her mind racing with thoughts. "He invited her," she whispered to herself, feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal. She turned on her heel and started walking quickly toward the exit, her emotions swirling.

Logan finished his conversation and turned to look for Y/N, but she was already gone. His heart rate quickened as he realized something was wrong. He began to search the paddock, asking people if they had seen her.

"Hey, have you seen Y/N?" Logan asked one of the engineers.

"No, man, not for a while," the engineer replied, shaking his head.

Logan's worry deepened. He pulled out his phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. He ran towards the parking area, hoping to catch her before she drove off.

Y/N stormed out of the paddock, muttering to herself as she headed toward her car. "Of course she'd show up… flaunting herself around… why did he have to invite her?" She tried to keep her tears at bay, but her eyes were already glossy with emotion.

As she reached for her car door, she felt a hand grab her wrist. She turned around to see Logan, his face etched with concern. "Y/N, what's going on? Why are you leaving?"

Y/N pulled her hand away, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. "Logan, did you invite her? Did you invite Emily here?"

Logan's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, I didn't invite her. Why would you think that?"

Tears finally spilled over as Y/N looked at him, her voice breaking. "Because she's here, Logan! And she's a model, she's perfect, and she always flirted with you even after you two broke up. How am I supposed to feel?"

Logan stepped closer, reaching out to hold her shoulders gently. "Y/N, listen to me. Emily is not here for me. She's here because she's dating a mechanic from Haas. I swear, I didn't even know she was coming."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt and insecurity. "But she's so… perfect. How can I compete with that? She's glamorous and confident, and I'm just… me."

Logan's expression softened, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Y/N, you don't have to compete with anyone. You are more than enough for me. I love you for who you are, not because of what you look like or what you do."

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. "It's just hard, Logan. She made me feel so small, like I wasn't good enough for you."

Logan held her even tighter, his voice gentle but firm. "You are more than good enough, Y/N. Emily is in the past. She doesn't matter to me. You do. I love you, and I want to be with you. Not her, not anyone else. You."

Y/N sniffled, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "You really mean that?"

Logan nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I really mean that. You are the one I want to be with. Forever."

She let out a shaky breath, a small smile forming on her lips. "I'm sorry I doubted you. It's just… seeing her brought back all those old insecurities."

"I understand baby," Logan said softly. "But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. You're the only one for me."

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Logan. I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now, let's go back and enjoy the rest of the weekend together, okay?"

"Alrighty american boy, lead the way." she agreed, feeling the warmth of his love and reassurance.

time skip

Logan had an incredible qualifying session, securing a spot on the front row. The team was ecstatic, and he was feeling on top of the world as he made his way back to the garage. As he walked in, he saw Y/N waiting for him, a mixture of pride and guilt written all over her face.

"Logan!" Y/N called out, running towards him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "You did amazing!"

Logan hugged her back, smiling. "Thanks, Y/N. I'm really happy with how it went."

Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Logan, I need to apologize again. I feel so ridiculously guilty about earlier. I shouldn't have doubted you. I'm so sorry."

Logan's expression softened as he cupped her face in his hands. "Y/N, it's okay. You don't have to keep apologizing. I understand why you felt the way you did."

"But I overreacted," Y/N insisted, her voice trembling. "I should have trusted you. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I hurt you in the process. I'm really, really sorry."

Logan shook his head, feeling a pang of sadness for how upset she was. "Hey, don't do this to yourself. I love you, and I understand why you felt insecure. It was a tough situation, but we worked through it together. That's what matters."

Y/N sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just hate that I made you worry and feel bad before such an important session. You deserve to be happy and focused, not dealing with my doubts."

Logan pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "Y/N, your feelings are important to me. We dealt with it, and I still had a great qualifying. Please, don't beat yourself up over this. We're stronger together."

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Thank you for being so understanding. I promise I'll work on my insecurities. I don't want to make you feel like this again."

Logan kissed her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "We all have insecurities, Y/N. What's important is that we talk about them and support each other. I love you, and nothing's going to change that."

"I love you too, Logan," Y/N whispered, finally allowing herself to smile. "And I'm so proud of you. You're going to do great tomorrow."

Logan grinned, feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude. "With you by my side, I know I will. Now, let's go celebrate this qualifying session and enjoy the rest of the day together, okay?"

"Okay," Y/N agreed, feeling a sense of relief and happiness. "Let's do that."

As the evening settled in and the celebration for his successful qualifying session began to wind down, Logan found himself quietly observing Y/N. She was laughing with some of the team members, her eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. Her smile was radiant, and the way she effortlessly brought joy to those around her made Logan's heart swell with love.

He took a moment to step back, leaning against the wall, and simply watched her. Every gesture, every laugh, every glance – it all reminded him of how lucky he was to have her in his life. She was his rock, his support, the person who believed in him even when he had doubts about himself. Her vulnerability, her strength, her love – it all made him fall deeper in love with her every day.

Logan felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over him. Despite the challenges, despite the moments of insecurity and doubt, they had come out stronger. He realized that her presence in his life was a blessing he never wanted to take for granted. She was more than just his girlfriend; she was his partner, his confidante, his everything.

In that quiet moment, Logan made a silent promise to himself – to always cherish her, to always support her, and to always remind her just how much she meant to him. As he watched Y/N continue to light up the room with her presence, Logan knew that he had found something truly special. And he was determined to hold onto it with all his heart.

[cozzzynook]

TFA idea

Bumblebee returns to base holding one large sparkling of course he quickly explains to both Ratchet and Optimus that it's not his but he found them abandoned in a old building while on patrol. After a quick check up the bittie is given a clean bit of health and Bee decides since he found them he has to take care of them, much to Optimus being worried that Bee might not be ready for the responsibility.

However a couple of weeks later the large sparkling is thriving as they let out cheerful giggles when ever Bumblebee pulls a silly face or tickles their pedes and tanks, it makes everyone smile and Optimus can't be anymore proud.

:>

Bee making everyone proud by being able to take care of a sparkling he found and he’s happy to do this since it feels so natural and familiar to him. But not for the reasons the others might guess.

I like to headcanon tfa bee with angst and make him older. It adds ✨ flavor✨ to his character.

- Bee is so good with sparkling’s because he used to live in a sparkling center on the ruined sides of cybertron.

- bee came from the low class of bots who roamed the wreckage of Cybertron because they were not allowed among the populated cities due to being a mix of sub cybertronians.

- autobots do not take kindly to decepticons, seekers, jets, those with outliers, insecticons and beastformers.

- bee is half insecticon but he keeps his wings hidden. He’s able to keep Ratchet from going anywhere near them during private medical exams since the doc bot is not an expert on insecticon cna and therefore would cause more damage than good should he take a look at them.

- really, its just against insecticon culture to have a non-flying mech take a look at ones wings so closely, even if they were a medic.

- Bee is so good with sparklings because he helped raise so many during his sparklinghood to the days he became a young mech and left the sparkling center.

- bee’s creators were long offline and he couldn’t remember what they looked or sounded like. All he knew was that he inherited his carriers wings and insecticon traits and his sires ability to transform into a car.

- bee lets his wings free during this very patrol and thats how he was able to find the little sparkling.

- they were left in the high tops in hopes of a flier spotting them.

- he flew towards the bitty and the sound of his wings humming was able to lull them to recharge after calming them down.

- he knows what its like to have no creators and he knows what its like to take care of a bitty and focus all his attention on their needs instead of his own.

- he acted childish because he wanted to enjoy the childhood he never had. He just didn’t tell the others any of this since he’s actually very private. The only one who knows is Bulkhead and Bee knows his best friend won’t say anything.

- bee is excellent at taking care of the sparkling. Having a recharge and fueling schedule that impresses everyone along with being able to wake up a few nano-kliks before the sparkling does late at night so he can keep the night cries to a minimum.

- bee can already smell and see the signs the bitty is a seeker and he looks in the first places where color comes in to see if the bitty is one of the cons on Earth but to his findings they aren’t.

- to make sure he’s right he does a thorough scent test and shows the bitty freeze frame video clips of the cons stationed here and gets no reaction.

- bee wonders what a stray seeker was doing here so far out from cybertron or one of their other colonies but he soon gets his answer when Sentinel shows up bragging about shooting down two seekers who tried to flee.

- bee figures out pretty quickly what happened and just snaps.

- sentinel is left on the floor leaking energon with his chin broken off and his frame twitching by the time Bee is done with him.

- none of the others can say anything and they just stand there in shock as Ultra Magnus just gives bee a warning on learning to control his anger while Ratchet grimaces because he doesn’t want to help Sentinel but he has to.

- Ultra Magnus understands very well that Bee is by old law still in his rights to do such a thing since Ultra Magnus knows Bee is older than perceived. He also knows Bee came from the harsher outsides and that both outlanders and the cons held endangering sparklings as one of the worst sins a bot could make.

- Personally, Ultra Magnus feels the same and is not happy with his subordinate not following protocol and detaining the seekers so all this could be avoided.

- Bee meanwhile just carefully picks up his fussing sparkling and goes off to his room where he stays for the rest of the evening.

- Optimus tries to talk with him but Ratchet stops him telling the prime to give him a few joors of alone time with his bitty.

“Its not just you whose the carrier hen around here now Prime.”

“If I’m the carrier hen, doesn’t that make you the grand carrier, Ratchet?”

“Slaggin kids and there smart dermas,” Ratchet grouses as they both walk away.

Prowl doesn’t take the hint, he was listening in from the ceiling, and goes inside to talk to Bee.

Its not really talked about but Bee and Prowl are close. Bulkhead is Bee’s best friend but Prowl is his brother and the feeling is mutual.

—

I want to incorporate the decepticons and blitzwing specifically but i’m not thinking that hard right now lol

[storydays]

A silly little request from anon.

What if while in Gristles and Bridgets wedding, John Dory’s daughter (y/n) was found by Branch, thinking that she was lost and shocked that his older brother had a kid. (actually JD just lost her in the woods while hunting for food. Branch knew that Y/n is jd’s kid cuz of the looks) JD AND Y/N, FATHER-DAUGHTER REUNION. But also angst, since y/n didn’t know anything about her father

sorry my english is bad

When Will I See You Again?

John Dory X Daughter!Reader

Branch X Niece! Reader

BROPPY

(15 years ago)

“Yeah, yeah! Baby girl, wait until you try Big Daddy’s gumbo!” a 30 year old John Dory laughed loudly as he mixed some vegetables and yak burger meat in a pan, making faces at his 8 month old daughter who giggled from her playpen.

It’d been the two of them since Kyomi, John’s wife of 15 years, passed during labor. It still hurt but John still had a reason to smile everyday:  you. 

You were a perfect combination of himself and your mother; although you took his smile and hair color, you took your mother’s calming personality and you both had that cute little gap between your front teeth. Your mother was an R&B Troll, one of the subgenres of Pop and Funk Trolls, who lived on a small island between Pop Village and Vibe City.

John Dory came across her during his journey of self discovery and Kyomi helped him break out of the role of oldest brother and the leader role, and helped him to understand why his brothers’ reacted the way they did. Together they then traveled around the world, looking for his siblings. But once John had seen how happy his brothers were, he’d decided to keep his distance, they didn’t need him anymore. 

John snapped out of his thoughts when he smelled something burning. “Ah sugar!” He yelled as he moved you further away from the campfire and hurriedly put the water out. 

Once the fire was out, he turned to check you over, but you were fine, and not even paying attention to him anymore, instead you were facing away from him, playing with the necklace around your neck and babbling to yourself. John sighed softly and walked over to your crib and watched you play for a few minutes.

“Well, that gumbo is going to have to be made another day, darlin’. How about a breakfast dinner?” He asked, before grabbing you up, making you squeal in surprise, and put you in the baby carrier before heading out into the forest for more wood.

*timeskip*

You babbled along as John Dory sang softly under his breath, as he gathered wood, when a loud screech startled you both. 

John cursed under his breath before rushing off, trying to get you both to safety when a claw scratched against him, making him trip, and hiss as he pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the deep scratches, before he felt his blood run cold when he realized you were no longer attached to him. 

“Nonononono!” He yelled, chasing after the bird before he tripped over a tree branch and face planted in the dirt, rushing to get up, yelling your name, hoping something could help him.

But the bird was far from his reach and so were you.

John Dory fell to his knees before an harsh sob escaped him as he started to wail in despair, calling for you desperately:

“(Y/N)!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

*Fastforward to present day*

“GOOD MORNING, UNCLE BRANCH!” You squealed, as you saw your uncle yawning. He chuckled softly, accepting the cup of coffee you were offering him.. “Hey, firefly. You ready for a royal wedding?” “You mean the one where Aunt Poppy and Aunt Bridget tried to dress me up as an actual flower?” 

Branch snorted in his coffee. “Oh yeah, Poppy showed me the pictures.” “It’s not funny, traitor!” You huffed, pouting and crossed your arms. Branch chuckled again making you smile before turning back to your journal, which was filled with different Troll fashion designs for each tribe. Branch started to make breakfast before peeking over your shoulder.

“Wow, (Y/N)! These are amazing!” You smiled brightly, you always did when people complimented your work. “Thanks! I was so excited for the wedding today, I got so inspired! Can you guess what the theme is?”

“Hmm,” Branch hummed, as he got the ingredients ready for breakfast. He smirked to himself seeing all the hearts and swirls in your designs. “Chesseburgers?” He guessed playfully.

“No!” You giggled, “It’s love. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, Uncle Branch. Sometimes, you just need a little bit of help to find it.” You said softly, fidgeting with the necklace around your neck, and looking over your designs with a thoughtful look. 

Branch studied you carefully, something was bothering you, you wore the same look he distinctly remembers his oldest brother having when he thinking hard. He cleared his throat before asking, “Wanna help me cook?” 

*Timeskip* 

Now dressed in your wedding outfit,( you were the flower girl with Tiny being the flower boy), you stood next to your Uncle, dancing on the balls of your feet excitedly, stars shining in your eyes.

“Now, if there is anyone who objects to this—” “STOP THE WEDDING!” A loud voice screamed, making everyone turn to watch the mysterious Troll parkour their way down to the front of the crowd. Branch pushed you and Poppy behind him, eyeing the new Troll suspiciously. 

“Sorry, sorry, is this a bad time? I’m just looking for a Troll named–” asked the Troll as he pushed his goggles up, before gasping seeing Branch.

“Baby Branch!” The weird man then came up and started rambling about nothing of interest to you, as you could see how much this Troll looked like you and was strangely familiar. But seeing your Uncle uncomfortably trying to get out of the man’s grip.

“Hey! You put my Uncle down right now!” “And tell us who you are!” demanded Poppy, standing tall besides you. Branch groaned as he jumped down. “Oh right, right, sorry. I’m Branch’s brother.” You gasp as Poppy took the lead. 

You studied the new Troll, ignoring the argument between Branch and Poppy, and approached him. “Have we met before?” You asked, ceasing all conversation, not noting Branch bit his lip nervously.

“Now that I think about it……” John trailed off, seeing the necklace around your neck and gasping softly, before pushing your bangs from your face. “(Y/N)?” He asked softly, eyes tearing up. “Um.. yep that’s my name, heh. Says it on my necklace.”

“Oh my God….oh my God! You-you’re alive! “ John Dory laughed in disbelief before hugging you tightly. “I’m alive! I’m alive?” You giggle, hugging him back instinctively before backing away nervously. 

“Of course you wouldn’t remember me…you were just a baby when we got seperated.” John huffed softly, before looking at you with sad fondness. 

“(Y/N).....I’m your dad.”

There's no such thing as silly request :)

PART 2???????

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 2: SPARKS IN THE AIR

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 1 HERE | READ CH 3 HERE

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: strong language, sexual tension, eventual smut (I SWEAR IT'S COMING) genre: fluff, angst, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~3.7k

a/n: getting this out now so i can post ch 3 faster.. its my fav 🤭

A soft chime from the door at Les Notes d'Amour signalled another customer had just left, leaving the cozy boutique quiet again. The warm, spicy scent of cardamom wafted through the air as you stood behind the counter absentmindedly swirling a small vial of essential oil between your fingers. Your mind was drifting far from the new perfume you were supposed to be working on. 

The fragrance you were creating was in front of you, it was meant to capture those small and unexpected encounters that leave lasting impressions. The idea was brewing since the odd train ride from a few days ago. You decided bergamot was the perfect top note. It was fresh, bright, and fleeting just like the guy in the oversized hoodie and sunglasses that had a beautiful smile and made good conversation.

Ugh. You hadn't even asked for his name. You were cursing yourself for not asking him for his name.

It felt so silly, really. People cross paths all the time, especially in big cities. You tried to tell yourself it was nothing more than a random moment, just a brief interaction with a stranger you’d never see again. But something about him felt different. There was an easy connection, an undeniable spark that left you curious and wondering if it was all just a coincidence. You could still picture his ridiculous outfit, his playful grin, his casual banter about the ‘eclipse’, and the way he seemed genuinely interested in your work. 

You sighed, setting the vial of cardamom back down on the counter. The scent of the spice filled the boutique, mixing with the other perfumes lingering in the air. It reminded you of how unsettled your thoughts had been since that day.  Fleeting moments was supposed to be the inspiration for the new fragrance you were working on. Something bright like bergamot could be used to capture the spark of chance encounters, while cardamom could be used to reflect the way the moments linger long after they’ve passed. 

Every time you tried to focus, your mind wandered back to him. The memory of his hoodie pulled low and his sunglasses hiding his eyes. Something about him was familiar, even though you were one hundred percent sure you’d never met him before. Maybe it was just the casual way he spoke, or the fact that you had been wrapped up in the conversation so quickly.

Still, you tried to brush it off. You had a boutique to run, customers to attend to, and a fragrance to finish. But the more you tried to ignore it, the more the memory seemed to tug at you. What were the odds of running into someone like that? A stranger who left such a lasting impression in just a few minutes?

You inhaled deeply as you took in the warmth of the cardamom around you. The scent was rich, comforting, but with an edge of spice that kept you on your toes. Just like the idea of fleeting moments—the way life could surprise you when you least expected it.

No matter how much you told yourself it was just a coincidence, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if your paths would cross again. The thought of it left excitement simmering just beneath the surface no matter how hard you tried to push it away.

The door chimed again, interrupting your thoughts, and you snapped back to the present, focusing once more on the work in front of you. You needed a break, somewhere to clear your head. After the last customer left, you decided to take a brisk walk to one of your favorite cafés.

A soft hiss from the espresso machine filled the air as you quietly settled into a corner of a local café. The space was a welcome change from the perfumed haze of Les Notes d'Amour, where you spent hours unsuccessfully trying to perfect your latest fragrance venture. A change of scenery could definitely help spark some inspiration, or so you thought. Your lavender notebook was open in front of you, with blank pages waiting for ideas, but your mind was elsewhere and kept drifting back to the moment on the train. 

The café usually had a warm atmosphere that put you at ease. The smell of freshly ground coffee mingled with the scent of baked goods wafting from the counter. You took a sip of your latte hoping the caffeine would jolt you back into focus. But you continued to sit there, staring at the blank page as your thoughts kept circling back to the stranger from the train that you hadn't seen since that day. What little of his face you saw beneath the hoodie and sunglasses lingered in your mind.

You knew the odds of running into him were slim, but the encounter felt like some strange twist of fate that brought you together in a brief and unexpected way. You sighed, tapping your pen against the page as you tried to push your thoughts aside. You were here to work, not daydream about some weirdo who looked like he was dressed as Damian from the Mean Girls movie. 

Still, the inspiration wouldn't come. You were about to close your notebook in frustration when you felt it—a presence that was familiar yet unexpected. The kind of awareness that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You glanced up, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes landed on the figure that stood near the counter.

It was him.

The guy from the train. Oh my god.

He looked almost exactly the same as before. Hoodie, baseball cap pulled low, and sunglasses perched on his face despite the dim lighting in the café. It was one thing to wear this fit on the train, but now he looked completely out of place in the intimate setting of the café. You blinked a few times, not quite believing what you were seeing. 

He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you could feel the recognition building, sort of like the tension in the air right before lightning strikes. As if sensing your gaze, he turned around. His eyes—well you assumed he had eyes behind those sunglasses—locked onto yours. For a second it felt like a freeze frame, neither of you moving. All you could focus on was the flicker of surprise and recognition that passed between the two of you.

A smile started to tug at the corner of his lips and you began smiling too, feeling the same pull that you felt on the train. There was no hesitation in his stride. Within seconds, he made his way over to your table with the same casual demeanour and confidence he had during your first encounter.

"We gotta stop meeting like this" he said with a playful smirk as he slid into the seat across from you like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

The tension in your chest eased a little and you laughed, "Same to you. What are the odds?"

"Honestly?" he shrugged as he pulled the hoodie tighter to him. "The universe is probably messing with us."

It was so absurd to think about that you couldn’t help but laugh. Really? Twice now. First the train and now here. "Do you always wear sunglasses indoors?" you teased as you nodded toward his now-signature look.

He lowered his head slightly as if he was hiding behind the lenses, "Trying to keep a low profile."

"Low profile? I'm not sure a hoodie and sunglasses are 'low profile'. Might need to update that look."

"Well it worked the first time, huh?"

You raised your eyebrow slightly as you leaned in, amused by the conversation you were having. "Did it?"

His grin widened but he didn’t answer you. He leaned back in his chair, very clearly enjoying the banter between the two of you. There was something so easy about it, you’d never been able to slip into a conversation as if you’d done it a thousand times before with anyone, especially a man. Beneath the lightheartedness there was still that sense of curiosity. Who the fuck was this guy and why did you keep running into him? 

"Never caught your name," you said, breaking the brief silence. Once was a coincidence, but twice?? You weren’t letting this man slip away this time. He hesitated for a split second, almost as if he didn’t want to tell you. But then he offered his hand and shrugged, "Trent."

As you took his hand into yours, you felt the warmth of his palm against yours. Trent. It felt familiar, but you still couldn’t put two and two together. The name suited him though.

"I'm y/n" you replied a bit more formally than you planned. He was making you nervous for some reason despite the casual vibe of the conversation. "So y/n..come here a lot?" Trent asked in a light tone.

You nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. "Yeah, to clear my head. Work has been...too much lately." He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand, "Lemme guess. Perfume?"

"How did y–"

"The train. You mentioned it there" he said, his voice a bit softer now.

Oh my god. He remembered.

Warmth spread through your body; the way he said it felt so intimate. "Yeah" you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Been working on a new fragrance but I just can't get it right. It's supposed to be about chance encounters that stay with you, but it's been a lot harder to capture than I thought."

"Chance encounters, huh?" Trent mused as his smile spread into something more thoughtful. "You've got plenty inspiration."

"Wait, what?" you tilted your head, intrigued.

He shrugged, "Look at us. The universe keeps throwing us together"

You laughed but his words struck a chord within you. He was right. Something about this felt serendipitous. Your paths crossed twice now in the most unexpected ways. Was there something more? You decided to go for it. What’s the worst that could happen?

"Well…if the universe keeps bringing us together.. I guess I’ll have to get used to seeing you around."

Trent smirked as he adjusted his glasses and shifted in his chair, "Sounds like a plan."

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself intrigued by Trent more than ever. There was still a lot you didn't know about him, but you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him. It was like a moth to a flame. The warmth and mystery felt so unexpected, yet so right.

The coziness of the café wrapped around you both. Trent settled more comfortably in the seat across from you as you continued talking. "Tell me about your work." Trent said, his eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses but his tone still genuine. "Perfume sounds like a specific craft. Must be more to it than just mixing stuff, yeah?"

You smiled, pleased that he was still so curious. Most people thought the art of perfumery was too niche for them to care about. Trent's question sparked a sense of pride in you. You rarely had a chance to share with people outside of your career, and it was exciting. "It's more than mixing smells. I like to capture emotion or memories." You leaned in closer to him as you continued to go on a long, rambling tangent about perfume, "There's the top note that you smell first, like a first impression. But then there's the heart notes that last longer and give it character. The base notes linger and stay with you."

He nodded, clearly interested "So you tell stories through scents?" 

"Exactly" you said, a bit more excited than you wanted to admit. "The one I'm working on is inspired by moments that seem small but stick with you. Like when you meet someone and it feels like nothing at first, but then you can't stop thinking about it. I want that in a fragrance."

"That’s deep. Never really thought much about it. Guess you got lots of stories in those little bottles, huh?" he said with a small smile. 

"Yeah, you could say that…" you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear feeling extremely shy all of a sudden. The conversation lulled for a while and you started to feel a subtle shift in the air between you. The scent of the cardamom from your perfume kit was mingling with the aroma of the coffee from the café. The spice of the cardamom matched the depth of the moment, a warm feeling that wasn't overwhelming but definitely there and simmering below the surface. 

"What about you?" you asked, turning the conversation back to him. "You probably have an interesting job too, right? You said you were keeping a low profile." There was a hint of hesitation in his body language. He was really good at being vague and never giving away too much. It made you so curious, and you wanted to know more. "Uh..yeah. I guess it’s interesting. Got a pretty busy schedule. It gets intense..."

"Intense how?" your nosiness now getting the best of you. 

He gave you the kind of smile that let you know he wasn't going to answer your question directly. "It's just not the typical nine to five." You were so intrigued but also frustrated. He had a wall around him. "Soo mysteriousss" you said with a teasing grin. "What's so intense that requires sunglasses indoors?"

"Just like to keep a low profile when I can. Makes things easier." You wanted to dig a little deeper into what he was so clearly hiding, but you also didn't want to push it too far. You barely knew him, but you wanted to understand him. The mysteriousness was part of what made him so intriguing, but it also made you feel like you were on uneven ground.

"Oh...fairs," you said finally not wanting to press him too hard. "Guess we all have secrets." Trent's smile softened and you wondered what he was thinking about behind his sunglasses. It was so frustrating not knowing, but it was oddly comforting too. It didn't seem like he was being secretive about it for the sake of it. Maybe he was protecting something.

Or someone.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics. You talked about the city, about your favorite place to unwind, and about the joys of working for yourself. Your hands would brush with Trent's every now and then when you both reached for your cups. The touch felt exhilarating but neither of you acknowledged it. The chemistry was undeniable. He leaned forward to pay attention every time you spoke, like he didn't want to miss a single word you said. He finally took his sunglasses off and your eyes kept meeting, holding gazes a little longer than necessary. You were so caught up in the moment that you still didn't realize who he was. The scent of cardamom surrounded you in a warm and spicy blend that perfectly matched the tension in the air. It honestly felt a little symbolic, like the fragrance was mirroring the growing connection between you and Trent. It had depth to it, complexity that made you want to stay in the moment longer and peel back all the layers to understand more. 

There was also the mystery. He dodged certain questions and avoided talking about his life too openly. It was charming, you definitely wanted to know more about him and why he kept such a low profile, but you didn't want to push him away. It wasn't every day you bumped into a stranger–twice–who left this kind of lasting impression. "You’ve got a unique perspective on life" he said, suddenly breaking the silence and bringing you back to earth. "It's refreshing."

"Huh? What do you mean?" you asked curiously. 

"Dunno" he shrugged, "you're different in a good way. Don't meet people who think the way you do." You felt your cheeks warm up, completely caught off guard by his words. 

"Thanks..I think?"

"Definitely a compliment," he laughed. 

You could tell there was more he wanted to say but he wasn't sure how to. There was unspoken curiosity between you two, questions that hadn't been asked yet. The longer you sat there, the more comfortable you felt in this whimsical mystery. Maybe you didn't need to know everything right away. Part of the allure was in not knowing and gradually unfolding whatever this was. You wanted to keep talking to him, but you knew the conversation would end eventually. He obviously had a life outside of the café just like you did. Even if you didn't know the full story, his life was probably a lot more complicated than he let on. 

A subtle tug of conflict started pulling at you. The chemistry was there but he remained just out of reach. There was something he wasn't telling you that seemed important. But then again you barely knew the guy, was it even in your place to pry? You tried to convince yourself of that, but your curiosity just kept growing. Just as you were about to ask him more about his life, Trent's phone buzzed on the table and broke the comfortable silence between you. As he glanced down at the screen his expression shifted from relaxed to frustration. He let out a frustrated sigh as if he was weighing his options before he looked back up at you. "Sorry, got to take a look at this." You nodded to try to keep your disappointment from showing, "No worries."

Trent hesitated for a bit before checking his phone as his frustration deepened. "Gotta run," he said as he stood up from the table rather quickly. He looked at you with intensity and it made your heart skip a few beats, "But..can I see you again y/n?"

You were practically squealing on the inside but you kept your composure on the outside.

The question caught you off guard but in a good way. You didn't know him well but you wanted to take a chance. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Trent's lips curved into a relieved grin as he handed you his phone, you quickly entered your number into his phone. You'd done this a bunch of times before with other people, but this time it felt more significant than it should have.

"Great. I'll text you." he said as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Before you could say anything else his phone buzzed again and he winced slightly. "I'll be in touch. Soon." Internally, you were still squealing like a teenage girl at a k-pop concert. You nodded as he headed out the door with his ridiculous 'low profile' outfit, disappearing into the bustle of the city.

You found yourself staring at the empty seat across from you much like before on the train ride. It felt like unfinished business. Would you even hear from him again or was this the start of something more? You glanced down at your phone, half expecting a message from him already but the screen was still dark. You sipped your now-cold latte as the warmth from before faded away. Trent had definitely left an impression. Whether it was fleeting or not, only time could tell. You gathered your things and stepped out into the street as you began walking back to the boutique, your mind still racing with thoughts of him, unanswered questions and the possibility of something more.

Back at Les Notes d'Amour, a mix of different scents greeted you. The comforting aroma couldn't fully put you back into the present as you sat at your desk and tried to focus on work. Your thoughts kept drifting.

Trent. 

You started to replay the entire conversation from the café in your mind, picking apart every word and small detail. He was so easy to talk to, yet still mysterious at the same time. Not knowing much about him was unsettling and conflicting. You wanted to know more, but you felt like you were letting yourself get swept up in an idea of someone you didn't really know.

You reached for a vial of cardamom and held it to your nose. It smelled warm and complex, sort of grounding. It reminded you of Trent—layered, but with a spice that made you want to figure out what was underneath all the mystery. You felt insane for romanticizing a stranger for something more than what he was. But was that the problem? You only met him twice in two brief encounters. Was that even enough to warrant all the curiosity about him? Or were you just letting your imagination run wild? You felt foolish for reading into it too much. Maybe Trent was just a regular guy that liked to keep to himself and you would never see him again, or maybe there was something more to him. You tried to push your thoughts of Trent aside as you leaned back into your chair and reached for your phone. A quick scroll through social media would definitely distract you, or so you thought. 

You absentmindedly flicked through your feed until something caught your eye. It was a post from a news outlet about a high profile football event in Liverpool. There was the usual crowd of featured athletes, flashing smiles across the camera. 

Your heart stopped. 

One of the photos was of him.

TRENT.

It wasn't just the guy you met on the train and in the café. No. This was Trent Alexander-Arnold, one of the most famous footballers. The Trent everyone in Liverpool knew. 

Why the hell was he on the train that day anyway?

You stared at his photo, your heart racing and mind scrambling trying to piece together all the clues. The hoodie, cap, sunglasses, the vagueness about his life. It all clicked into place. How did you not realize this sooner? 

A strange rush of emotions hit you all at once. You were shocked, confused, and a little embarrassed. All this time you were casually talking to one of the most well known athletes and you didn't even recognize him. You thought he was just some intriguing stranger, but he was that Trent. 

As you tried to process the revelation, your phone dinged in your hand which jolted you back to reality. There was a text from an unknown number that popped up on your now-lit screen. You opened it up and your pulse quickened.

Coffee again sometime? – T

You stared at the message, your heart pounding and head dizzy. You weren’t sure what to think or feel. One thing was for sure though..

Your world was a lot more complicated now.

| READ CH 3 HERE |

is this making sense to anyone yet or....? share any thoughts! i dont have the energy to make an official header so pls be kind lol thanks for reading!

[thomine]

say it, love : arataki itto

dating itto is always fun and sunshine. you enjoy every moment together with him. surely he will want to save the relationship too, right?

pair: arataki itto / reader info: general audiences, angst, canon universe, established relationship, dysfunctional relationship word count: 1.5k words series: day 3 of angstpril / prompt: heartbreak links: read on ao3 / work tag

Itto has been avoiding you—sort of. You can't reason why it feels that way when you have an arm looped with his while checking out the menu for Uyuu Restaurant. You can, however, be certain that Itto is avoiding a conversation that needs to be had. In fact, you're queuing at the restaurant in hopes the fancy meal will put him in a mood to talk about it.

But you need to first find a cure for your sullenness brought by the long queue. You've anticipated this chance for a whole week, and every minute teases your patience.

Must the sky also be a beautiful blend of purple and yellow? It pulls you into your memories, resurrecting feelings of the past that salt your tongue with a bitter aftertaste.

The sky mimics the night you accepted Itto's confession. Since then, you've been the happiest person to exist. He involved you in his adventures—no matter how silly—and your name is an appendage to his endless sobriquets. Itto and you: an inseparable pair, further proven by your seamless integration as a proud member of his gang.

With little money for fanciful fun, both of you mixed meals from popup carts and had a picnic at the outskirts of the city for a first date. It was a humble arrangement with everlasting memories like Itto nervously holding your hand. That night, he hollered about his love, but his green eyes on you were the loudest declarations.

Now, he's invested in the menu. His eyes juggle between a picture of assorted vegetables and another of corn.

"Do you think Ushi will eat corn?" he thinks out loud, eyebrows scrunching as he taps his chin. "This option is… It's just too colourful."

You do not agree with the price of the choice he's leaning for, but neither do you have the strength to raise your tongue. You'll play it safe than add a petty disagreement, one that might drag till the dining table. You only want to talk about the topic. There is no luxury of time since you can't afford much and Itto shreds through every meal.

When should you start addressing it then? You can bring it up at the end, while eating desserts. Melting ice cream parallels your current situation hence a great opener, but since it's at the end of the dinner, Itto can gobble his food and leave like the other times you've tried to bring it up. Maybe fate will be nice and offer a couple seated nearby that you can comment on, although it should be plan B since you don't want to rely on miracles. You're risking a month's pay for this. In the end, you decide to bring it up when both of you get your main dishes.

While he continues browsing, you hear him mutter the names of the other gang members. "They're going to love this so much! We haven't had unagi in years!"

You frown. Will this queue go any faster?

Just in time, a server pops his head into view. He holds a warm smile, facing your boyfriend.

"If it isn't The One and Oni Arataki Itto and his beloved. Welcome!"

"Ah, bro! Long time no see!" Itto wants to give a hug, but your arm around his might have caused him to rethink his offer, so he gives an apologetic look to his "brother". Considering how the server doesn't know your name, he was probably an unfortunate stranger trapped as the audience when Itto professed the good news of his reciprocated feelings on the city streets years back.

"Help me out here," Itto says as he shows the side dishes on the menu. "I'm looking at these two for my cow pal. At first I thought corns would be nice, but—" and he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth before his voice lowers to a whisper "—are corns poisonous for cows? Not that I don't know that, but I just wanted to check."

"This is not a place to share recommendations. Let's head in and I'll bring you to your table first. You're just in luck as the table available has a lovely view. It's is great for a date."

You politely smile.

The server then side-steps to reveal a bright and warm interior. Patrons fill every table and laughter mingles with the aroma of freshly cooked meals. It influences your stomach to twist yet rumble. You were confident that you could get this issue settled by tonight, but seeing the good atmosphere, you aren't so sure if you're willing to ruin such a rare moment.

However, you're dragged from your thoughts as Itto barges into the restaurant, and your linked hand forces you forward as well. You nearly trip over the step at the entrance if not for Itto's sturdy arm. He does cast a glance of worry at you and asks if you are okay, but you answer with guilt knowing you will return that question to him in a few minutes. Hopefully he will be truthful, not like you, lying through a smile that you're fine when there is annoyance climbing your throat.

The server leads you to a nice table by the window. Through the glass, you get a perfect view of Inazuma City accompanied by the mystic sky, now darker. And yet feelings of your first date with Itto linger in your heart like a festering wound that prevents you to feel the present.

"I would like this colourful plate," Itto says, breaking you out of your daze. "And I would like this—to take away—as well as this, and this, and—oh! Definitely this."

Your wallet trembles, but you stay quiet and wait for your turn before you get a meal cheaper than your usual. No desserts. Around you, tables are filled with families or large gathering of friends.

When the server leaves, an awkward silence sprawls itself across the distance between you and Itto. He's busy playing with cutleries while you look around, envious of the chatter. Perhaps you should have ordered appetizers, but you never expected things to turn awkward.

"How was your day?" You ask him.

"It was great," he says, rolling his 'r' while placing a plate, spoon and a fork on your side of the table. "The boys must be really hungry though since we worked a total of 10 jobs today. Probably cleaned like hundreds of windows and reared thousands of foxes. Wouldn't you believe that?"

You hum, unsure what to say. Ever since you had a full-time job, you couldn't spend time with Itto as you'd like, but you believed—no, believe—it was for the better.

"It's not much on my end," you reply to his non-existing question. "Work has been stale for me. Your jobs sound way more fun, but I like the stability of what I do."

"You should have been there. The boys kept mentioning you. Nothing is impossible for Arataki the Great and I make everything fun, but it would have been, you know, cooler if you were around."

"I know," you sigh, "but I'm saving up my off-days so we can travel. Remember how we wanted to go to Mondstadt?"

"Oh! We can totally do an Onikabuto Competition like what I did when I went to Liyue."

"The beetle battles can happen, but wouldn't you want to sight-see? I hear there is an area where it never stops snowing. We'll need to get warm gear. They're costly though…"

"Ah, don't sweat it. If we can't go, we won't go. Simple as that."

I want to see it still, you think, but swallow your protest.

Before your thoughts can wilt from anger, the food arrives. Your mood to talk drops more than your appetite. You take a bite regardless and try to savour its rich flavour without the bland meals from the pop up cart haunting your taste buds.

Say it. You think.

The restaurant is loud and bustling, laughter sprinkling the ambience. You miss the chirp of crickets and the gentle singing of birds mixed with Itto's booming voice.

This date is the fanciest, most beautiful moment you've ever gotten thanks to your efforts and you're miserable.

Say it.

You really should talk to Itto—as planned—yet your throat is dry and you raise your hand to call a server for a glass of water.

Say it.

After taking a large gulp, you know it's hopeless for you to open your mouth. You've been trying. It's not you that isn't doing anything.

You look at your boyfriend who is happily munching on his meal with no care in the world. His smile is the largest you've seen since you've decided to pursue a lone journey for a future with him.

Say it, love. You plead.

He can't be content with this, can he?

Say it, Itto.

How long can someone pretend like nothing is wrong?

author’s note: how does mixing itto and angst taste like? tastes like a silently dysfunctional relationship. you know how those childhood trauma books are all like "it's not about what happened but what didn't happen?" yeah. itto and angst, to me, would be the things that didn't happen, which is honestly more unsettling than your typical angsty plots, so expect another angsty itto piece if i'm in the mood for it.

work is inspired by say so, by the same willows.

[fallingforfelix]

❛❛out of touch❞

모래시계를 통해 미끄러지는 모래처럼, 단절은 우리 손끝으로 스며듭니다.

disconnection seeps through our fingertips, like sand slipping through the hourglass.

.° ༘🎍⋆🍾₊˚ෆ

synopsis: kinktober day #4 — hand fetish (cheirophilia)

pairing: felix x minho

content: 18+/explicit (mature audiences only), tad bit of angst but not too much, smut, college au, second person view, pwp (porn with plot), emotional distress, lgbtq+ content, mature relationships, skinship, profanities, potential triggers for anxiety or low self-esteem

warnings: voyeurism, masturbation, physical affection (hugging, hand holding), orgasm, erotic fantasies, pet names (jagi)

word count: 3.2k (3200) + 3 photos (text messages)

note: are half of felix’s emotions overreactions in this? absolutely!! but i haven’t been feeling the best lately so what better way to get my anger out than by writing angst in my works. so i rly liked this one, until it got to the smut. definitely not my best!! there’s a typo in one of the messages so pls ignore that. this was supposed to be a triple post…but i’ll just post the other two when i wake up in the morning.

inspired by: like me better by @cattolino

song reference: touch by katseye

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the way minho played the guitar so flawlessly was astonishing, no doubt. and felix would’ve admitted that the tune was beautiful, had he not been distracted.

the way minho’s veins protruded like they were trying to escape his skin, made felix’s brain spin. he couldn’t help but feel almost…insecure? his gaze kept flickering between his hyung and his own hands that were clasped together on his lap. his miniature, feminine-like hands. no wonder minho hyung has girls all over him.

and mixed with the insecurity was something else. something felix couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it gnawed at his heartstrings and made him feel giddy. felix chewed on his inner cheek and twiddled his fingers, his gaze following minho’s hands, now completely blocking out the music.

a while seemed to have passed, but never long enough, because minho spoke up, resting his hands on odd ends of the guitar, his veins remaining inanimate.

“so, did you like it? i know i’m not that good. but i think i’m getting the hang of it. jisung has been teaching me and he’s amazing. you know that emo music kid? you must, he’s in your year.”

oh, so you let other boys see your hands like that? 

felix hadn’t even had time to grasp the thought before it passed, replaced by the urge to reply.

“wow, you learn quickly,” felix mentally cursed himself for the way his voice sounded so breathy, and he coughed to clear his throat. “uhm, yeah, it’s really nice actually. good tune. the kind that’ll get stuck in your head. i don’t recall ever hearing it, did you compose it?”

“jisung and i did,” and minho’s face broke into a wide grin, highlighting his feline features. “i slept over in his dorm around a week ago and we pulled an all-nighter just writing a bunch of silly songs. he’s actually a composer, did you know that? signed with a label and everything, writing songs for some big names. you’d be surprised when you recognise all the ones he’s credited for, trust me. anyways, these chords happened to be the only ones we wrote down.

“that sounds nice and all, but hey, just remember you’re a dance major. don’t let the music students fuck your brain up or anything like that, okay?” as much as he tried to, felix just couldn’t suppress the layer of jealousy that seeped through his tone, hoping minho didn’t notice it.

minho chuckled. “it seems like you’re talking from experience.”

“oh, you know, hyunjin and his boyfriend changbin. i don’t reckon hyune’s been the same since.”

“well i best keep an eye out, then,” minho expressed a little wink, and felix felt a wave of dread wash over him as he came to terms with the blush warming his face.

there was a pause, a beat of silence. for a moment no one spoke.

minho clapped his hands together, and that was all that it took for felix’s attention to be drawn to the sight of them once again.

“we’ve been here for a while and it’s getting late, shall we head back to the dorms?” he enquired.

“sure,” felix blatantly responded, before standing up.

minho stood too, fixing the guitar back into the case, and felix observed the routine of his veins, watching as minho moved specific fingers to trigger certain vessels unconsciously.

felix hadn’t even realised the older had propped the guitar back onto the rack and was staring intently at him.

“sorry,” felix snapped out of his trance.

“are you all good?” minho asked.

“yeah, yeah. i’m just…i don’t know,” felix figured ‘tired’ was too much of an overused, lame excuse to justify his spacing out.

and with that, minho made his way out of the practice room, felix following suit.

the walk back to their dorms was peaceful, neither of the boys spoke much, only when minho pointed out how the weather was getting noticeably colder did felix converse.

felix, although the extrovert, found content in the silence. it gave him an opportunity to dwell on the conflicting emotions encircling inside him, like an eagle circling its prey.

minho was the type of person that anyone could easily envy. minho’s hands were large and veiny, a stark contrast to felix’s. heck, if they were to hold hands, minho would probably feel like he was holding a child’s.

but there was something else about minho’s hands. something that made felix want to be held by them and never let go. something that ached inside him and caused him to wish for his hyung’s hands to roam over every contour of his body. something…no, i won’t dare let my thoughts roam that far.

felix had always regarded minho as sexy, so why was he only experiencing these perceptions now? fuck that damned guitar.

the sound of loud voices and laughter drew felix out of his mind, coming to face the door within which he resided. turning the handle with minho behind him, he came face to face with three college boys.

hyunjin was lazing on the couch, with his back supported by the arm rest and his legs thrown over changbin’s lap. the couple seemed to be laughing with a third, unknown boy, who had a gummy smile and chubby, rounded cheeks, quite resemblant of a squirrel. he was adorned in a sweater with a red and black horizontal stripe pattern, paired with black jeans which had slits in the knees, black platform boots that would most definitely hurt if he stood on you, and he was almost decorated in a range of silver jewellery.

the boys seemed not to notice felix and minho’s entry, or if they did then they just didn’t care.

“having a little party without me i see, hyune,” felix says as he lays eyes on the scene. he doesn’t comprehend hyunjin’s response, however, for that squirrel-faced stranger brushed past him into minho’s arms.

in that moment, felix’s tender, possessive heart fractured, shattered even, leaving a jagged edge that refused to heal. numbness enveloped him, yet his eyes betrayed him, burning with the temptation to hold back tears. his sorrow weighed down the muscles that he required to smile, preventing him from doing that very thing, stealing the grin that once defined him. the boy who everyone described as a walking sunshine, the epitome of optimism, now felt his inner light dwindle to darkness.

minho hyung doesn’t like skinship.

it wasn’t the fact that minho was hugging other guys, no, he was an adult and allowed to hug whoever he wanted to. it was the fact that everyone knew he despised physical affection.

“minho hyung,” that boy’s words were muffled as he had his head buried in minho’s chest.

“jisungie…” minho’s smile was evident even through his voice.

oh, so that’s jisung. right.

someone had stabbed him in the heart, twisted the knife, and the scar seemed as if it would take an eternity to heal. an overreaction? perhaps. but felix was like that. he cared for his friends, even if that resulted in being possessive at times. as long as he didn’t have an outburst, everything would be okay.

felix turned into the kitchenette to pour himself a glass from the tap. maybe water would help drown out the emotions bubbling in his throat, threatening to consume him in a fit of tears if he didn’t take care of them soon enough.

he sat himself on the top of the counter, legs crossed and cup in hand. his gaze wandered over to changbin and hyunjin, to the picture-perfect couple, that were all over each other, not a single thought to anything else going on in their vicinity. oh, to have a relationship like theirs. felix’s sight shifted from one side of the room to the other, subconsciously eyeing minho and jisung.

they were now facing each other, minho’s hands resting on jisung’s arms, just above the crook of his elbow. the pair were conversing about something felix would’ve liked to have eavesdropped on, but once again, his glare was drawn to minho. the boy was doing that stupid thing he does with his eyes, his beautiful, dark brown, almond-shaped eyes that gave him the illusion of a cat. he was staring deep into jisung’s eyes almost as if he could see through them, past them. funny how someone regarded as intimidating due to their “mean, cold” stare, could hold so much love in their eyes.

felix didn’t know why he did it, but he coughed a fake cough, reminding the couples that he was in the room with them.

“sorry, uhm,” although felix wasn’t really sorry. “hyune do y’know where wooya is?”

“dunno, probably with san or something,” hyunjin responded.

“right. i’m gonna go call him.”

and without another word, felix disappeared into his room, seeking the safety of a relationship-free zone.

he pulled out his phone, but didn’t call wooyoung. he didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he didn’t want to be in the atmosphere of the shared living space.

he just sat there on his bed, merely thinking, trying to process everything. fuck having feelings. and maybe a silent tear or two ran down his cheek. he kept trying to tell himself that it wasn’t jealousy that caused him to act this way. but if it wasn’t jealousy, then what could it be? it wasn’t insecurity, he had already been over that.

he came to the conclusion that he’d let his emotions subside and figure them out later when they weren’t as intense. he stood up and made a beeline for the door, planning to grab some of the brownies he made early and return to his room to rewatch deadpool and wolverine.

stepping outside, he quickly wiped away any remaining tears, gently though, so as to not smear any of his makeup.

a figure appeared in the hallway as felix lifted his head, almost scaring him.

“felix! i was just about to come and get you,” jisung gasped.

he had barely even known this kid existed 10 minutes ago, and his friends were already expecting him to be able to usher felix out of his room. and for some reason felix took offence to that.

“oh, it’s just my third eye,” felix retorded, not voicing anything he just thought.

“we’re all just about to head off, actually. thought we’d let you know,” jisung told.

making plans without him? okay, ouch.

“ah, no worries.”

“lixie, did you hear from wooyoung?” hyunjin asked as felix stepped into the light of the room with jisung by his side.

“no, he didn’t pick up,” and felix was ashamed he could lie so easily to one of his best friends. that’ll come in handy. for what? he didn’t know. his brain seemed to be doing most of the thinking, yet not feeding him the information.

“that’s odd. i hope he’s not having too much fun with san,” hyunjin joked.

felix would’ve found it amusing if he was in a better mood, instead he just gave a dry laugh that no one seemed to notice.

minho spoke up as felix was grabbing the brownies from the fridge and heating them up in the microwave.

“hyunjins spending the night at changbin’s, and jisungs roommates with him so their just gonna drop me off at my dorm.”

don’t even bother to invite me? don’t bother, it’s not like i want to be around jisung anyways.

“sound all good? wooyoung will be back soon, i’m sure,” minho asked.

“yeah, that’s fine,” felix responded, almost absent mindedly, seeming all too focused on the way the plate rotated in the microwave.

the ding sound that the machine made when the brownies finished brought felix back to life, and he stared in minho’s direction as soon as he felt the older’s eyes on him.

“want one?” he offered, already stuffing his face but trying to soften the atmosphere.

minho didn’t respond with words, but rather walked himself over to felix, claiming his brownie. felix noticed that the jumper he was wearing before was discarded across one of the chairs that sat on the other side of the kitchen bench. probably because the temperature inside contrasted drastically compared to the weather outside as hyunjin had turned up the heater to an inhumane temperature.

“thanks, jagi,” minho mumbled before biting down on the treat.

jagi?

oh, felix was definitely blushing. he probably just combusted, if that.

purposefully positioning his head so that his hair would cover majority of the redness, he tried to respond with a nonchalant “no problem” but his voice just had to crack.

—

felix eventually had offer the three other boys brownies, and he had to admit that jisung was pretty damn cute when he begged, but felix wouldn’t let him get to his head.

minho calling him ‘jagi’ definitely fucked him up. so much so that felix was now propped up in his bed, scrolling through their chats to find the picture of minho’s hand that he sent when he asked felix which ring he preferred better.

to be honest, felix’s own hand now ached; he didn’t realise how much he and his hyung interacted over text. but his hand ached from something else, something that felix would rather not confront, but his boxers were growing tighter with every thought he had of minho. and his fingers were itching with need and hunger to touch himself, but he needed to wait, the mere concept of minho’s hand wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing.

jisung had made a joke of some sort before they all left, earning a laugh from everyone, even felix had to chuckle along, minho had backhandedly hit felix on his bicep, nothing violent, just a typical reaction that you get from some people when they laugh. and felix wasn’t in pain, but where minho had placed his hand left a mark, a mental mark, one that was burned into felix’s memory forever.

felix finally came across the texts, relishing the tone of their conversation. he didn’t think he’d ever be able to look minho in the eye again soon enough.

minho’s veins in the picture were not nearly as prominent compared to how felix saw them when he was playing the guitar, but he reckoned it was the best he was going to get.

felix and minho had worn the rings everyday since purchase — around a month and a half ago. felix had been wearing his today, only taking it off just then so as to not damage the expensive silver. and he vividly remembered minho adorned in his half of the set, recalling how he felt the cold metal touch his skin when minho had hit him.

felix had slipped off his shirt, leaving him in boxers only. he was positioned on the bed with his elbow supporting his weight, phone in the corresponding hand, with his legs spread open but not outstretched.

his spare hand was resting just above the waistband of his boxers, moving up and down in synchronisation with his breathing. felix took another glance at the photo in his palm, and all control he previously had was thrown out of the window.

he placed his hand on his bulge and slowly began dragging his digits across his clothed length. he sucked in through his teeth, body quivering already. felix stayed like that for a moment, savouring the feeling, easily picturing his hyung’s hands taking charge of his dick.

“fuck, minho,” he gasped, palming his increasingly tight boxers.

felix bit his lip, unaware if he was suppressing the noises or the pain the thought of minho was giving him. a wet patch formed over his crotch, signifying he was dripping with precum.

noting that he had already gone too far to be uneasy, he bucked subconsciously into his hand and let a little whine slip again. felix pictured minho’s pretty face above him, staring into his eyes and stroking his cock almost nonchalantly as the blonde boy beneath him writhed in pleasure. felix could imagine the signature smirk that would dawn minho’s face at the guttural moan felix would make if he swiped his thumb across his leaking tip, pushing him closer to the edge.

but even though it seemed as if minho was there on top of him, the voice in the back of felix’s mind knew that his own hands could never compare to his hyung’s. his lip was bleeding from the pressure of his teeth, but no matter how much friction or weight he applied, his efforts weren’t satisfactory.

felix lifted his hips up, sliding off his boxers with ease, exposing his extremely sensitive cock. he breathed in shakily, body tensing at the sudden exposure to air. he wrapped his fingers around his length, sucking in his cheeks as if he had just tasted something quite sour.

he moaned again as his hand dragged along the freshly-shaven skin, rutting into his palm. he began to pant, eyes watering in desperation. felix’s bed began to creak, but his senses were so overwhelmed he barely payed any attention to being quiet.

“ngh, minho hyung—” felix whimpered like a little slut.

his eyes were closed, forcing the movie in his head to appear clearer, almost realistic. he satisfied his delusions, letting his thumb come intact with the tip of his dick. felix had to grip the side of his bed for support, his movements never halting. his head lolled from the pillow on which it was propped upon, to the wooden headboard, exposing his defined adam’s apple.

minho’s face swam into his vision again, this time jerking felix off at an inhumane pace, whilst prying the boy’s legs open wider. felix mocked the minho in his mind, surprised how fast he could stroke himself and forcing his legs further apart. he internally praised his minho, because felix was now completely zoned out in a state of bliss. obviously with hands like his, minho would be an expert at handjobs. but it brought felix’s brain back to earth for a second, how many people get to experience the very thing i’m dreaming of, lee minho’s holy hands presenting me with pleasure and the best handjob known to mankind. and felix felt a twinge of jealousy, but that only fuelled his desire for more.

“shi-it, minho ah,” felix could feel the brick wall that had slowly constructed itself inside of him begin to crumble and he became a moaning mess.

“minho, minho…please i-i’ve been so good mm, let me c-cum, please…” and felix was tipped over the edge completely, painting his abs in strips of white, not caring about the mess he was making.

he was panting, tongue hanging out, and mouth dry. quite resemblant of a dog. he looked at the picture of minho’s hands laying limply on the bed, as felix had discarded his phone when he went to steady himself. he groaned again at the sight and began to feel that wall being built again.

he pushed himself up on the bed, turning around to grind into the pillow in an attempt to find a more comfortable position for round two.

“do that again.”

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©fallingforfelix, 2024 tag if inspired

[faeriekit]

🥭 Rank from most enjoyable/fun to write to least: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Crack.

I can't remember which fic got me into your writing but I am really enjoying health and hybrids I think the attention to detail with language barriers is neat 😊 I feel like these options can be mixed a lot in writing would the ranking change depending on the combos?

I need you to know before anything that I had half this post penned and my computer randomly refreshed my post and burnt all of it. 💀

So. I can't. Uh. I can't do all of my fics on a scale, because of, um,

that. So. I'm just going to do a straight best to worst. Sound good? Great because I have no other idea how to tackle any of this.

Fluff:

Best: Snowdrift Sanctuary. Although even my best fluff has a little bit of angst in it, this is a sweet, warm story of inter-species fostering and the care it provides. What's not to love? It was even a Phic Phight fill, so I got to surprise someone with it.

Worst: Rituals and Rites. There's nothing wrong with this one; it's a cute ask fill, it's got some great silliness in it and a little irreverence, and I'm always happy to archive my stuff on ao3 lest tumblr finally pull the plug, but I always dislike uploading individual lil' things onto ao3 when there isn't much to them. It's not bad, I just...don't have a lot of fluff to pad out this binary lol

Smut:

Best: Lazy Sunday. By the time I got to this one I'd largely already hit my stride writing smut stuff, I liked how this couple gelled (and even have a few as-yet-unwritten scenes of their relationship I may never get around to!) and I like the couple as they are: weird and complicated and persevering into a yet-unseen realm of intimacy! I'm also not super into the kink in question, so it was super nice to see the piece well received by people who are into it and thought it worked well lol. How sad would it be if you tried to write a niche kink and it ended up completely flopping lmao T_T I'd never show my face in this town again.

Worst: A Visitation. Do not get me wrong, I love this fic, but you gotta remember that I wrote the first chapter completely exhausted and out of my gourd with fucking cauvid. 😭 I'm shocked it came out coherent at all! And everyone helped me workshop the last chapter, and it took forever to the point where I was writing like thousands of words a day and it was eating up my whole life...and sometimes I still go back in to reread it and I find MORE errors! 😭😭 This fic had all the birthing pains! Worth it, but OW!

Angst:

Best: Dig Three Graves In Apartment 31C. I rreeeeeeally almost put Hybrids here, but in the end, Hybrids is a hopeful recovery fic. This fic is all grief and loss and the stench of the aftermath of acute trauma in the air. It is sad— sometimes I still get comments shocked at how well it worked lol— and although the excruciatingly tough epilogue yon author had to write lifts it a little, it's not... There's no cure for this. Everyone in this picture is dead. That's just the way it is.

Worst: Feet on the Ground. A similar deal: I really like this fic but there wasn't a great ending line to close on so it's just...mediocre. I probably should have just waited to see if time would fix it, but it was a Phic Phight fill and we're kind of on a timer during the event, and I wanted to get it out so I could start working on other people's asks, so... 6/10. Fascinating concept, mid execution.

Crack:

Best: Infection versus Infestation. It was either this or one of the MPreg fills lmao, and I just. There's just so much going on here. The support network. The mental health. The powerpoint presentations. Bees. Medical pamphlets. Aliens. QPRs. Maybe the real fic is in the groupchats you made along the way. No notes hands down my one true rec for weird fics; all the way up and all the way down, it's inherently GenderFucked and surreal and young idiot adult bullshit. I love them your honor.

Worst: Percy Jackson, God of the Shrimps. A discord in-joke never makes sense as a discord out-joke. I am astounded people read this to this very day. I make it worse every time I even mention it in a post, but hey, that's showbiz. If you read this and actually found something there, more power to you. If you read this and were like "???"...yeah lmao

I'm glad you're liking health and hybrids so far! It's so funny to think that Hybrids used to be my downtime fic to recover from my other fics lmao...now it's beating Blister Pack to the tune of an additional 100,000 hits. I genuinely can't even conceptualize that number in my head. It's a such a bonkers concept that so many people could be glancing at a medical trauma fic from lil' ol' me. High school Faer who took anatomy classes for fun would be ecstatic. In the end, I tried to get a couple of unique fics to fill each category just because I like them so much. Sue me. It's my fic and sometimes I wanna talk about them with people lol.

Thanks for asking! 🧡🧡🧡🧡 This was fun!

[sleepingdeath-light]

realising he might be gay after falling for trans masc reader hcs ; ford

requested by ; a common simp (28/07/23)

fandom(s) ; gravity falls

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; ford pines

outline ; “Ford Pines realizing he may be gay after he falls in love with a transmasc reader?

-A Common Simp”

warning(s) ; self discovery related angst, mostly fluff!

something important to recognise about ford is that he grew up in a very different time — he was never bigoted, nothing of the sort, but he didn’t really know all that much about non cishet people, identities and communities (he was much too focused on his research to even consider dating anyone himself, let alone who anyone else dates) — so him meeting you may very well have been his first experience getting to know someone who wasn’t, well, cis or het

all of those factors (never dating/exploring his sexuality, never being exposed to non cishet people, etc) meant that when he started to fall for you, ford started to have a mild panic — he’d never felt this way about anyone else before and didn’t even realise it was ‘love’ and ‘attraction’ until stan started bullying him for his crush, and the first person he’s ever fallen for is another man which would be especially confusing for him as he’d just assumed he was straight his whole life

(which, naturally, was quite a long time to be blatantly incorrect about something — which further adds to the mess he’s gotten himself into)

so then ford does what ford does best in a time of personal crisis and locks himself away from everyone in his lab, using his research to distract him from his confusing feelings and shooing everyone away using a half dozen excuses about ‘dangerous materials’ and ‘hazardous experiments’ — which stan knows is complete bs so he tells you the truth the moment you ask (after all, you and ford had become quite good friends at this point and it was only natural you’d worry about him in a situation like this)

and that leads to the brothers getting into an argument because ford was very much so not ready for you to know about his feelings, he’s just been outed by his brother to his crush, and he’s still trying to process everything whilst a new stressor has been thrown into the mix — and you’re trying to calm him down whilst stan is rolling his eyes and telling ford to ‘thank me later’ before walking away to continue watching whatever was on the television

which leaves the two of you alone just outside of his lab — no stan to fight, no great grand niece or nephew to use as an excuse, just you and him and the silence between you as he refuses to look you in the eye and tries to find any excuse to leave (mind drawing a blank every time — for once the brilliant scientist/stubborn old man is out of his element and he just doesn’t know what to do)

what happens next depends on if you return his feelings or not.

if you don’t then he’ll accept your answer and back off (honestly he never had any intention of confessing in the first place) — withdrawing for a while to sort out his feelings so that you can go back to being close friends again

if you do then you get a grumpy, awkward, old scientist of a boyfriend who is both incredibly protective over you and so unsure of himself that even the slightest bit of physical affection or verbal reassurance can leave him looking visibly more relaxed and calm — even if he struggles to call you his ‘boyfriend’ and instead refers to you as his ‘life partner’ (he just feels it’s a bit silly for someone his age to be using that term)

you’ll catch him staring at you sometimes because he’ll end up stuck in his own head about how much he’s attracted to you and how much he loves you — don’t bring it up because he’ll withdraw again to get over himself