#you are my favorite little person in my phone

[kateschi]

a language only you speak

synopsis: wife privileges with bakugou katsuki are very much real.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the agency is bustling with its usual chaos—sidekicks rushing from desk to desk, phones ringing nonstop, and the occasional explosion from the training hall shaking the walls.

in the center of it all, katsuki katsuki sits at his desk, arms crossed, scowling at the stack of paperwork he’s been putting off all morning.

his brows twitch in irritation, but before he can push the papers off his desk and call it quits, the door swings open with a force that makes a few nearby interns jump.

“katsuki!”

your voice slices through the noise, effortlessly commanding attention.

sidekicks freeze mid-step. pro heroes pause in their conversations. even kirishima, who’s used to your entrances by now, watches with barely contained amusement.

the only person who doesn’t seem at all surprised is katsuki himself.

he exhales through his nose, tipping his chair back just enough to get a good look at you as you stomp toward his desk. his scowl softens—just a little.

“the hell are you doing here?”

“you forgot your lunch,” you say, placing a neatly packed bento box in front of him with a pointed glare. “again.”

there’s a beat of silence.

katsuki clicks his tongue, eyes flicking from you to the box. his fingers tap against the desk like he’s debating whether to take it, but the hesitation is brief.

with a grumble, he snatches it up, pulling it toward him like it’s a classified mission briefing.

you cross your arms and watch him open it, waiting for his reaction. it’s all his favorites—seasoned rice, grilled fish, a few side dishes you made just the way he likes.

he doesn’t say thank you, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his eyes linger on the food, the almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

he’s pleased.

you reach over, brushing your fingers against his collar, smoothing out the slightly rumpled fabric.

the agency watches in stunned silence, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but it never comes. katsuki lets you fuss over him without so much as a grunt of complaint.

that’s when kirishima, ever the instigator, speaks up.

“hey, dynamight,” he calls from across the room, arms crossed with a grin. “how come you let her do that, but if I even breathe near you, you tell me to ‘fuck off’?”

kaminari jumps in immediately, pointing an accusatory finger. “yeah! I tried to fix your mask that one time, and you nearly murdered me.”

katsuki pauses mid-bite, eyes flicking up. the office is dead silent, waiting for his response. his expression is unreadable for a moment before he speaks, voice low and deliberate.

“is your name y/n?”

kirishima and kaminari exchange glances. “uh…no?” kirishima ventures.

“are you my wife?”

kaminari snorts. “pretty sure we’d know if we were.”

“then shut the fuck up.”

the office settles into a stunned silence after katsuki’s blunt response, eyes darting between him and you like they’re watching a rare phenomenon unfold.

kirishima leans back slightly, arms crossed, brows raised in something close to admiration. “huh.”

kaminari tilts his head. “so that’s just...how it is?”

katsuki doesn’t answer immediately.

he focuses on his food, chewing deliberately, as if debating whether this conversation is even worth his time. you know he hears them, though.

you can always tell when he’s listening, no matter how much he pretends not to.

kirishima rubs his chin thoughtfully. “that’s so manly, bakubro.”

katsuki scoffs, finally looking up, crimson eyes sharp.

kirishima waves him off, unfazed.

“nah, I mean it. I always thought you just had rules about personal space, but it’s not that. it’s just—you let her do whatever because she’s her.”

a pause.

katsuki clicks his tongue, shoving another bite of rice into his mouth, but his silence says more than words ever could.

you smile, resting a hand on his forearm. “he’s a little soft, but only for me.”

he glares at you. “I’ll kill you.”

“you won’t.”

his jaw ticks. you’ve won this argument before it even begins.

kaminari shakes his head like he’s watching something unfathomable. “man…you’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t ‘got’ anything,” katsuki grumbles, shoving his chopsticks into the rice with unnecessary force. “i just don’t see why you extras are actin’ so damn surprised.”

“you literally detest people touching you,” sero points out.

“yeah, people,” katsuki snaps. “she’s not ‘people.’ she’s my wife.”

and that’s the thing.

to them, it’s unusual. to them, it’s something to gawk at, something to be shocked by. but to katsuki, it’s just natural. it’s not about ‘privileges’ or exceptions—it’s just the way things are.

he’s never even thought to explain it, because there’s nothing to explain.

he doesn’t let anyone mess with his uniform, but you can straighten his collar.

he doesn’t let anyone borrow his things, but you can use his shampoo.

he doesn’t let anyone get too close, but you can curl up beside him and steal his warmth like you belong there.

because you do.

katsuki quirks an eyebrow, setting his chopsticks down. “you done interrogating me now?”

the others exchange glances, like they’re debating whether they’ve gotten enough material to fuel their endless teasing for the next month.

kirishima seems to understand there’s a line he shouldn’t cross—not because katsuki would explode (though, let’s be real, that’s still a possibility), but because this is something real.

kaminari, on the other hand, is kaminari.

“so, like…” he leans on the nearest desk, a slow grin spreading across his face. “if y/n asked you to wear, I dunno, a stupid matching sweater or something, you’d do it?”

katsuki barely spares him a glance. “no.”

kaminari looks at you. “he’s lying, right?”

you tilt your head, pretending to think. “hmm. well, he did wear that ridiculous apron I bought him last week.”

the entire office perks up.

katsuki’s expression darkens. “you said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone why you wore it.”

and the office rises in roars.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

mean!rafe slowly getting soft for reader but she realizes what sort of sick person he really is so she leaves him and now rafe is the desperate one (this would be really appreciated pretty!!!)

i loved, i loved, i loved you

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — talks of murder, stalking, manipulation

summary — after overhearing a conversation between your boyfriend and his best friend, you begin to rethink your decisions.

authors note — can be read as a standalone but is apart of the mean!rafe series. part 1 is “i just wanna be one of your girls” and part 2 is “but i’ll do anything for you.” part 3 is up! “even when you pushed me away” i’ll probably make a masterlist for this cause it’s probably going to end up turning into a series tbh so lmk if i should do that! please request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“baby?” you heard him call out from the living room as the front door shut. he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack then followed the smell of food into the kitchen where you stood all pretty. you had a cute little pink sundress on, a white apron with a ribbon adorning the middle, and your hair was perfectly curled. “you look like a fucking dream.”

he walked over to where you were standing and pulled you into him with his big hands lightly squeezing at your hips. “thank you, rafe. i made your favorite,” you replied with a smile on your glossed lips as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “how was work?”

a sigh left his lips and his body tensed. “same thing as usual. nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” he said with a kiss to your temple. “i missed you, angel.”

you frowned slightly and hugged him. “i missed you too, rafe.” you nuzzled into his chest deeper and he held you close, taking in the delightful scent of your shampoo. you pulled away a little sooner than he would’ve liked and pulled out his designated chair at the table. “why don’t you eat before the food gets cold?”

he nodded and sat down, laying the napkin over his lap and unraveling one pack of utensils you spent your afternoon packaging up to look professional. you sat across from him in your own seat and waited for him to take his first bite before beginning to eat your own.

he wrapped up some of the noodles on his fork and placed it carefully into his mouth while you sucked in a breath and waited for his validation. “it’s amazing, sweetheart,” he praised while getting more onto his fork. “you always prepare the best, you know that.”

you smiled to yourself and glanced down at your own plate, a red blush spreading across your cheeks. you began to eat as you two sat in a comfortable silence and enjoyed the pasta.

once he finished and was getting ready to get up and place his dish in the sink, you stood and beat him to it. “i’ve got it,” you said softly. you knew how long and draining his work days were and you’d do anything to make the rest of his day better.

“thank you, angel,” he replied gratefully while standing and brushing past you with a loving squeeze to your hip. “i’ve gotta finish up some stuff on my laptop. i’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

you nodded and began to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. once you were all finished, you neatly folded your apron and placed it in the closet in the living room before heading up the stairs and to the office to see if he needed anything. before you could even knock, you heard a loud bang, which you assumed was his fist against his desk.

“goddamnit barry! i fuckin’ told you that i had it handled,” he spat into his phone. “i took care of him, alright? they got rid of the body, the evidence, all of it and now you’re over here screwing it up.”

the body? you placed a hand over your mouth to cover the sob threatening to slip past your lips. you pressed your ear closer to the door and waited for him to speak again.

you heard him curse under his breath and laugh angrily. “it was all going to plan and then—“ he paused. “get rid of him. do whatever you have to do, just fuckin’ get rid of him. i’ll do it myself if i have to.”

a tear hit your hand and you quickly backed away from the door and quietly walked into your shared bedroom. you immediately began throwing clothes into a bag until you heard the office door open. you shoved it under your bed and sat at the edge of it.

he came in and immediately made his way over to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your hands in his. “hey. what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

you just shook your head and faked a sad smile. “i jus’ miss you, rafe,” you lied as convincingly as you could.

he sighed. “i know, baby. and i’m sorry,” he mumbled softly. “look. i gotta go handle something really quick but we can spend the whole night together the moment i get back, ok? i promise.”

a shaky breath left your lips as you nodded and allowed him to kiss you then your forehead as he stood and made his way out towards the front door. the moment you heard it shut, you packed everything you could and sprinted out towards your car. you didn’t know how much time you had until he got back.

you were quick to disable your location on everything and turn on do not disturb before speeding off towards your parents house an hour away. you hoped it would be far enough and undisclosed so he’d never find you.

and only 30 minutes into the drive, you had 72 missed calls and 101 texts from rafe.

[arxiwon]

Husband!Sunghoon, the cool yet secretly hopeless romantic˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Husband!Sunghoon The type to act cool but gets jealous so easily. You’re laughing at someone’s joke? He won’t say anything, just suddenly hold your waist a little tighter or kiss your cheek out of nowhere. If you tease him about it? “What? Can’t I kiss my wife?”

Husband!Sunghoon Loves when you play with his hair but pretends it’s no big deal. He’ll be sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone, but the second you start running your fingers through his hair? He melts instantly, eyes closing, completely relaxed.

Husband!Sunghoon Subtly checks up on you throughout the day. If you’re at home, he’ll pass by and ask, “You good?” before continuing whatever he was doing. If he’s away, you’ll get simple texts like, “How’s your day?” and “Did you eat?” (If you don’t respond fast enough, expect a call.)

Husband!Sunghoon Pouts when he wants attention but won’t ask for it. He’ll sit next to you, arms crossed, looking at you every few minutes, waiting for you to notice him. When you finally ask, “What’s wrong?” he’ll just mumble, “Nothing…” but then immediately pull you into a hug.

Husband!Sunghoon Always acts like he doesn’t care about couple traditions but secretly does. Anniversary? He’ll act like he forgot, only to surprise you with something incredibly thoughtful. Your birthday? He’ll act all casual, but you’ll wake up to a perfectly planned surprise.

Husband!Sunghoon Gets competitive when you compliment someone else. “That actor is so handsome.” He’ll immediately scoff and say, “I look better.” And if you tease him? He’ll sulk for at least 10 minutes.

Husband!Sunghoon Loves coming home to you. No matter how tired he is, the moment he steps inside and sees you, his entire demeanor softens. His first stop is always you—dropping his bags, pulling you into a hug, and sighing contently like he’s finally home.

Husband!Sunghoon Never lets you carry heavy things. Grocery bags? Your suitcase? Nope. He’ll take them from you, no questions asked. If you insist on carrying something, he’ll just say, “That’s my job.”

Husband!Sunghoon Steals your skincare products. But he’ll deny it every time. “Why does my moisturizer keep running out?” “No idea.” Meanwhile, his skin is looking flawless.

Husband!Sunghoon Loves listening to you talk. No matter how small or random, he genuinely enjoys hearing you ramble. Even if he’s tired, he’ll hum in response, letting you know he’s still listening.

Husband!Sunghoon Finds ways to stay close to you, even in public. He may not be overly clingy, but his hand will always be on your back, or he’ll pull you closer if he sees a crowd. If you’re in a long line, he’ll stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.

Husband!Sunghoon Stubborn but soft when it comes to you. If anyone else asks him to do something, he might complain. But if you ask? He’ll sigh dramatically but do it anyway. “You owe me for this.” (He just wants more hugs.)

Husband!Sunghoon Low-key a romantic. Will randomly take you on late-night drives just to spend quiet time together. Will buy your favorite snacks just because. Will pull you in for slow dances in the living room with no music.

Husband!Sunghoon Acts cool but melts when you initiate affection. You hold his hand first? He’ll pretend it’s nothing, but his grip tightens. You kiss his cheek? He clears his throat and looks away—but his ears are red.

Husband!Sunghoon Wants to be your comfort person. If you’re sad, he won’t always know what to say, but he’ll pull you into his arms and stay with you for as long as you need. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me stay like this.”

Husband!Sunghoon No matter what, he’s yours. His words might be minimal, but his actions say everything. He may not always be vocal, but the way he looks at you—like you’re the only person in the world—tells you exactly how much he loves you.

Sunghoon may act all cool, but when it comes to you, he’s just the biggest softie.

Husband!Sunghoon is the definition of cool on the outside, hopelessly in love on the inside. He acts unbothered but secretly adores all the little things about you—whether it's watching you wear his hoodies, playing with his hair, or rambling about your day. He won’t say much, but his actions speak louder than words: warming up your food if you're late, pulling you closer in public, and always making sure you're taken care of. Though he pretends to dislike cheesy couple traditions, he’s the first to plan thoughtful surprises and steal forehead kisses when you least expect it. He gets flustered when you compliment him, secretly loves cuddling (even though he’ll never admit it), and has a soft spot for lazy Sundays spent wrapped up in you. Protective, attentive, and low-key romantic—he might act cool, but at the end of the day, his heart is completely yours.

[be4chywritez]

loathing? | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

rec: so luke gives bfb vibes so hard for some reason please write something like best friend's brother or like enemies to lovers

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Jack’s apartment felt like a second home to you at this point. You were always here, whether Jack invited you over or you just let yourself in. It wasn’t your fault his couch was more comfortable than yours, and besides, his fridge was always stocked with your favorite snacks.

Unfortunately, Jack’s apartment came with an unwanted addition—Luke Hughes.

Luke was the embodiment of an annoying little brother, except he wasn’t your brother, which made it worse. Every time you were over, he was there, too, sulking, chirping, or generally making your life difficult.

It started with little things. He’d steal your snacks, change the channel when you were watching something, or conveniently take the last bottle of water from the fridge. Once, you caught him wearing one of your hoodies just to piss you off. The rivalry was childish, petty, and utterly exhausting.

Then came the pranks. You swapped his protein powder with flour. He replaced your chapstick with hot sauce. Jack refused to take sides, claiming you were both equally insufferable.

One afternoon, after Luke had hidden your shoes before you had to leave, you retaliated by locking him out on the balcony in the middle of winter. Jack had to let him back in after twenty minutes, and Luke had vowed revenge ever since.

And now, it had come to this.

“Move, you’re on my side of the couch.”

You looked up from your phone, arching a perfectly sculpted brow as Luke stood over you, arms crossed. His stupid, messy hair was damp from his post-practice shower, and he was still in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking as effortlessly good as ever—not that you’d ever admit it.

“Your side?” You scoffed, stretching out even further. Your legs, bare thanks to the tiny shorts you wore, draped over the cushions as you made yourself comfortable. “Last I checked, this couch belongs to Jack.”

Luke exhaled sharply, clearly already at his limit with you today. “Yeah, and Jack’s not here, which means I get priority seating.”

“That’s not how it works, Hughes.” You gave him a slow, taunting smile. “You snooze, you lose. Go sit in the chair like a good little rookie.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but instead of arguing further, he did the worst possible thing—he sat down. Right on top of you.

“Luke!” You shrieked, shoving at his solid frame, but he didn’t budge.

“You wouldn’t move, so now I’m sitting.” His smirk was infuriating.

“You’re crushing me, you absolute menace.” You wriggled under him, but it only made him press down more, laughing at your struggle.

“Not my fault you take up the whole couch.”

“Not my fault you have no concept of personal space.”

“Oh, please. You love the attention.”

That made you pause, and Luke must have noticed the slight falter in your expression because his grin widened. You shoved at his chest, hard enough that he finally moved off you, but the damage was done. You were flustered, and he knew it.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” you muttered, sitting up and crossing your arms.

“Right back at you, princess.”

The nickname, as condescending as it was, sent a jolt through you. Maybe it was the way his voice dropped slightly when he said it, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you now—like he was daring you to snap back.

And snap, you did.

One second, you were shoving at his shoulder. The next, his hands were on your waist, and your lips crashed together. It was messy, desperate, all of the pent-up frustration spilling over into something way hotter than either of you had planned. His hands gripped your hips like he’d been waiting for this, and when you bit down on his lower lip, he groaned against your mouth.

Your fingers curled in his hoodie, tugging him closer, and he gladly followed, pressing you back against the couch as his mouth moved against yours, demanding and hungry. The fire between you had finally found its outlet, and there was no stopping it now.

The air between you was thick with something unspoken when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing heavily. Luke’s forehead rested against yours for a fleeting moment before he pulled back, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” he teased, his voice lower now, rougher.

You rolled your eyes, even as your pulse hammered. “Shut up.”

He grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with a confidence that sent another shiver down your spine.

“C’mon,” he murmured, tugging you up from the couch. “Before Jack gets back.”

A thrill shot through you as you followed him down the hallway, your stomach twisting in anticipation. This was dangerous, reckless—but you weren’t stopping now.

Not when sneaking off with Luke Hughes had suddenly become the most exciting thing you’d done all night.

The near-misses started piling up after that night. A stolen kiss in the kitchen while Jack was in the other room. Luke slipping his hand under the table at dinner, brushing against your thigh as you tried to keep a straight face. One night, Jack almost walked in on you tangled up in Luke’s bed, forcing you to dive under the covers while Luke casually pretended to be scrolling on his phone.

It was thrilling. Addictive. But eventually, the excitement started to wear thin, especially for Luke.

One night, after slipping out of Jack’s apartment and into Luke’s room again, he hesitated before pulling you close. There was something different in his touch, something hesitant.

“This isn’t just—physical for you, is it?” he finally asked, voice low but vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

You blinked at him, thrown off by the sudden shift. “What?”

Luke exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just—sometimes it feels like that’s all we are. And I don’t want that.”

You studied him, heart clenching at the uncertainty in his eyes. “Luke, I wouldn’t be sneaking around for just anyone. This is more. I want more. I thought you knew that.”

His jaw tensed. “I want more too. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You reached out, threading your fingers through his. “You’re not just a hookup to me, Luke. You never were.”

His shoulders sagged in relief, and he pulled you in, pressing his forehead to yours. “Good. Because I think I’m falling for you.”

You swallowed, emotions thick in your throat. “Then fall, Hughes. I’ve already fallen.”

Jack found out in the most Jack way possible—by walking in on you and Luke curled up together on the couch.

He froze in the doorway, blinking as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are you—kidding me?”

Luke groaned, dropping his head back. “Well, that could’ve gone better.”

Jack pointed a finger between the two of you. “How long?”

You hesitated. “Uh… a while?”

Jack groaned. “You two are the worst.”

But there was no real anger in his voice—just exasperation. And when Luke laced his fingers through yours, squeezing lightly, you knew it was all worth it.

[xaviesstarlight]

Finding Your Fanfics

Warnings: SFW fluff, slightly suggestive at end

Saturday night, Tara and Simone stop by your apartment for drinks to unwind from a long week of work. Xavier was already at your place when they arrived, but the two hunters didn’t mind. You and Xavier might as well be married at this point, so they were used to him being part of your little gatherings. He busies himself with preparing you finger foods and mixing cocktails, doing his best to stay out of the way while you all chat. Simone is sharing the plot of a recent fanfic she found of your favorite drama when Tara drunkenly spills your secret for the whole apartment to hear.

“That plot sounds like the one you wrote not long ago,” Tara says to you. “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if Simone was reading your fanfiction?”

“SHUT UP!” Simone yells as she excitedly bangs on the table. Xavier pokes his head into the living room, curious as to what could’ve gotten Simone so riled up. “You write fanfiction!? I have to find it.” Simone grabs her phone and begins tapping away at her screen with the investigation skills of a bureau agent.

“No!” Panicking, you try to grab her phone. A blush rises to your ears as you attempt to stop her, but you’re too dizzy from the alcohol. “It’s really not much worth looking at, so please don’t. Just let me die right here from embarrassment.”

Tara pulls up the fanfiction on her phone. “Stop worrying. You’re a great writer,” she says. “Here it is.” Giggling, she hands her phone to Simone.

At this point, Xavier mindlessly wanders over to the girls without you noticing. You are curled into a ball with your face hidden in your hands, halfheartedly begging them to stop reading but also laughing. You don’t notice Xavier reading the screen over Simone’s shoulder until his head snaps up, eyes narrowing in your direction.

“You write about Lumiere?” Goosebumps prickle your skin at Xavier’s question. You glance up to see Xavier towering over you with crossed arms. Yep, you’re sober now. Xavier hates Lumiere, even though they’re the same person. “And this isn’t exactly family-appropriate. What is the plot here?”

Tara and Simone immediately feel the tension in the room. They quickly excuse themselves, practically running out the door to escape your boyfriend’s wrath. Unable to look Xavier in the eye, you whisper, “I can explain.”

Xavier tilts your chin up, so you are forced to meet his steady gaze. “You’re writing ‘romantic’ stories about Lumiere and posting them for everyone to see. From what little I read, you are a talented writer, and I would love to read more of your work. But Lumiere? And why keep it a secret? Do you not trust me?” Xavier pouts. “Do you still like him more than me?”

You poke Xavier’s cheek. “Of course not, silly bunny. I love you the most. You know that. I only wrote one story about him, because a reader asked me to for her birthday.” You cradle Xavier’s face in your hands. “I wasn’t keeping my writing a secret from you. I haven’t written since college. Tara saw me jotting down ideas when I first started back a few weeks ago, and I’m not used to sharing this with anyone. It just didn’t cross my mind. I’m sorry.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you are the only man I think about, Xavie. I love you, and you are more than welcome to read more of what I write.” Xavier begins to glow. He picks you up from off the floor, carrying you to the bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“Your writing is so good and descriptive, but there was one passage in the love scene that I couldn’t quite picture. I was hoping you could show me.” Xavier smirks, and your heart flutters in response. You don’t know whether to curse or thank that reader for her commission.

[nickgurl4life]

ྀི Period Comfort ྀི

All Fluff!!

Chris knew something was wrong the second he walked through the door. Normally, you’d at least mumble a sleepy “hi” from the couch or peek up at him from your phone, but tonight? Nothing. Just a sad little lump buried under a pile of blankets, barely moving. He kicked off his sneakers, tossing his keys onto the counter before making a beeline for you.

"Sweetheart?” His voice was soft as he crouched beside the couch, brushing his fingers over your forehead. Your eyes fluttered open just a little, and when he saw how tired, puffy, and downright miserable they looked, his heart clenched.

Chris had been out all day, filming with his brothers, running around town for content. It had been a good time—loud, chaotic, filled with way too much caffeine—but the second he saw you like this, none of that mattered anymore. He frowned, pressing the back of his hand to your cheek. “Babe, you feeling bad?” You let out a weak groan. “My uterus is trying to kill me.”

Chris gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “How dare it. I’ll fight it. No, seriously. Let me at it.” He raised his fists in an exaggerated boxing stance, making you snort despite the pain. “Nah, ‘cause for real, this is unacceptable behavior. Who gave it permission to betray you like this?”

You let out a tired laugh, but it quickly faded into a wince as another cramp rolled through your body. Instantly, Chris’s playful expression softened. “Okay, okay, no more jokes. C’mere.” Without hesitation, he slid his arms beneath you, lifting you up—blankets and all—and settling you in his lap as he sat back on the couch. You groaned in protest. “Chris, I’m literally a furnace right now.”

“And I’m your personal ice pack,” he countered, tucking you closer against his chest. He was cool from being outside, his hoodie soft and familiar, smelling like fresh air, vanilla-scented detergent, and him. His arms wrapped securely around you, and despite the dull ache still gnawing at your stomach, you felt yourself relax.

Chris grabbed the heating pad he’d already prepped—because of course he had—and gently pressed it against your lower belly. “Better?” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against your temple. You sighed, melting against him. “Yeah.”

He smiled, proud of himself, then reached for the bag on the coffee table. “Alright, listen. I come bearing gifts.” He rattled it for dramatic effect. “I got your favorite snacks, a big bottle of water—‘cause hydration is key, duh—and boom.” He whipped out your comfiest hoodie, fresh out of the dryer. “Warm and ready, just for you.”

Your eyes widened. “You did laundry for me?” Chris smirked. “I mean, I just threw it in the dryer, but yeah, let’s pretend I’m a domestic god.” You giggled, and he beamed like he’d just won an award. He kissed your forehead before grabbing the remote. “Okay, comfort movie time. Do we go classic Disney, a rom-com, or absolute chaos?”

You grinned sleepily. “You already know.” Chris gasped in mock horror. “Shrek it is.” As the opening scene played, Chris wrapped you up tighter, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. The cramps still sucked, but with him holding you, whispering the dumbest jokes in your ear, and making sure you had everything you needed, it didn’t feel so unbearable.

He pressed another soft kiss to your temple. “I got you, sweetheart. Always.” And as the sounds of the movie filled the room, you knew—no matter how bad the cramps got, with Chris by your side, you’d always be okay.

[caesariawritesstuff]

I WOULD LIKE A SINGLE ROSE 🌹 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE RIDDLER GETTING PEGGED 🛐🛐🛐FOR THE FIRST TIME 💋 and mayhaps a whiny side?👀

but yeah him getting pegged by the detective💕💕

Also you're my favorite author💕💕😊 keep slaying in your work💅✨️

And i hope you'll have a wonderful valentines 💕💕💐✨️🍓⭐️🍷‼️‼️❗️‼️❗️

Role Reversal

Summary: Edward and you decide to try something new.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warning: Pegging, fucking, cock sucking, NSFW

A/N: Ahh anon, I really hope you enjoy this and thank you for your kind words! I've ever written a pegging scene before, so this is a little out of my comfort zone, but I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?” you asked.

Edward stared at you for a long moment. The question was one you’d been asking consistently for weeks now – ever since the idea passed between you two one night while lying in bed together. You’d been scrolling through your phone, looking up ways to spice things up in the bedroom (not that there was anything lacking, Edward knew, but it never hurt to try new things to add variety to one’s life) when you came across the idea of pegging.

At first, Edward hadn’t thought much about it when you read it off the list of ways to spice things up in the bedroom, but something about the concept had made him…curious. He soon found himself looking into the sexual act on his own time, doing research, where he soon discovered that it could be a highly pleasurable act for the male participant, as well as a way to be quite vulnerable with one’s partner. Not that Edward particualry liked being vulnerable, but with you, well…he had found himself letting his walls down more often than not. Especially since you had allowed him the honor of having anal sex with you, Edward couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like for him – which lead to him spiraling into watching several porn videos featuring the subject, which he, surprisingly, found himself quite turned on about. The very idea of surrendering control to another person, to allowing himself to be so open…it was a highly terrifying concept to him, but with you…well, he supposed there would be no other person he would allow such an intimate and vulnerable act with him.

And so, Edward had approached you with the idea one night over dinner. You’d stared at him like a deer in the headlights for a long moment, as if uncertain of what he was asking, before you shrugged and said, “I’ve never done it to someone before. But if you want to try, we can.”

He’d smirked at that, and soon found himself buying all the necessary equipment: lube, a harness for you, a strap on which he picked out: one that was beginner friendly and made of a silicone green color (because of course he had to go for green). He found a harness which would provide clitoral stimulation for you, as well, as he wanted to make sure this was just as pleasurable for you as it would be him. Edward wasn’t particularly worried; after all, his attraction for both men and women was there, even if he hadn’t leaned either way until he met you. But he’d made sure to pick out a strap on that was aesthetically pleasing to both your eyes, and you’d helped pick out one you thought the both of you would like. Edward couldn’t help but notice that you seemed particularly nervous about the whole thing, your eyes going downcast and a flush appearing on your cheeks whenever the two of you discussed how this would go. He knew you were quite open with your sexuality, but seeing you act so shy around doing this was fascinating to him – even if it meant he asked you the same question just as often.

“Are you sure, my dear?” he asked, staring at you from across the bed.

You looked down at the bed: at the array of new equipment that had arrived in the mail yesterday, laid out and on display for the both of you to inspect. Edward knew you’d done your own research, but still, he wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to.

Finally, you met his gaze again. “Yes, I’m sure. Are you?”

He nodded, smirking. “Quite sure, my dear.” His cock twitched, standing at attention in front of him, already leaking precum from the tip. His balls tightened against his skin, warm, veins throbbing along his shaft.

You glanced down at his hard on and smirked. The heavy swell of your breasts swayed as you moved around the bed, your nipples pert and at attention. Edward took in every inch of you: the dips and curves, the gentle sway to your hips as you walked towards him, the seductive look in your heavy-lidded eyes. The breath caught in his throat; he’d seen you naked a million times already, the image burned into his corneas, and yet it seemed he could never get enough of you. Every time he saw you naked, it was like the first time all over again. Excitement rumbled in his belly, his cock twitching again, as you neared him. Your hands snaked out, gently brushing against his forearms. He leaned down, capturing your lips in his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You tasted sweet, and a shiver ran down his spine. His cock pressed against your thigh, and his hands settled themselves on your waist, gripping tightly, digging his nails in as if he would never let you go again.

You sighed into his mouth as you tilted your head back, letting him continuing to glide his tongue against your own. He shuddered and ran his hands from your hips down to the slope of your ass, feeling the smooth skin on his fingertips. You shuddered against him, and Edward smirked, a delicious tingle creeping up his spine. His other hand came back around to tweak at your left nipple, pinching and pulling it, testing the heavy weight of you breast in his hand. You moaned lightly, arching your back further into him, before your own hands ran down his shoulders – down, down, down, until they reached his own hips. Edward held his breath as your long fingernails grazed against his sensitive skin, but soon, your hands were trailing along his backside, gently raking against his ass, and he shuddered at the sensation.

His smirk grew, his heart hammering against his ribcage, beating in time with your own as he kissed you deeper. His cock continued to pulsate with a furious need – but it wasn’t long before you dropped to your knees in front of him, taking his cock into your mouth. He groaned at the sensation of your smooth lips wrapping around his shaft, your tongue massaging along the head and glands of his penis. He tilted his head back, a soft gasp escaping his lips. Heat prickled along his skin and excitement pooled in his belly. Edward’s hands tangled themselves in your hair, twisting and pulling on the strands, as you swallowed him from base to tip; his cockhead hit the back of your throat and he groaned louder, a deep rumbling in his chest. But as you did, continuing to massage him with your tongue and mouth – he felt one of your hands snake behind him to his ass again, gently probing between his ass cheeks to probe at his tight entrance. Edward gasped at the sensation, at how sensitive his tight sphincter was, the sudden pleasurable sensation that traveled through his backside and down his thighs. You pulled away, saliva dripping from your mouth, as you snatched some lube off the side of the bed, opened it, and squirted some onto your finger. The clear substance coated your first few fingers, before you glanced up at him again, smirking, as your mouth swallowed him once more.

Edward groaned, his eyes fluttering closed, as he lost himself to the feeling of you working his cock with your mouth like magic. Your hand circled back around to his ass, and with one lubed-up finger, you probed at his back entrance. In the last few weeks, you’d done this a few times to help prepare him for this moment – and Edward sucked in a breath, helping himself relax, as you pushed one finger inside him. He hissed between his teeth at the pressure as your finger slowly slid in with ease. Within seconds, the pain began to subside, making room for the pleasure as you slowly slid your finger in and out of him. Pleasure surged through him as you stimulated his sensitive glands, and he groaned, his breath coming out in shallower pants. The combined pleasure of your mouth on his cock and finger in his ass was overwhelming, making him tremble, and his fingers tightened in your hair.

“…fuck,” he whispered, as stars danced behind his eyes.

Slowly, he felt a second finger at his tight entrance, and he gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw tight as you worked a second finger into him. He groaned at the sensation of his ass being stretched and filled – but the way your fingers moved inside of him quickly helped some of the tense, searing pain subside within moments. With two of your fingers inside of him now, he only felt another wave of intense pleasure bundle inside of him, different from the way your mouth sucked him off or how it felt when he was inside of you, but good, nonetheless.

Finally, after several minutes of working him with your mouth and fingers, you pulled away, gazing up at him with glistening eyes. Your cheeks were flushed, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth. He whined slightly as you pulled your fingers from his ass, and at the absence of your wonderfully pretty mouth sucking him off.

“Are you ready?” you asked him.

Edward hesitated; the question held so many implications. He trusted you, yes, of course he did – but this level of intimacy and vulnerability was one so far out of his own territory, that he found himself just a tad worried about how this was going to go. But he refused to show weakness, to back down from the challenge he had presented to you, and he smirked as he nodded, brushing his thumb along you mouth to wipe away a bit of the spittle on your lips.

“Of course, my dear,” he said.

You nodded and stood up, turning back to the bed. You snatched up the harness and quickly slipped into it, fastening it around yourself tightly in a way that was comfortable for you, and then secured the strap on to the base. Edward’s eyes dropped to the green dildo, a few inches long in length, with veins running throughout the shaft. His cock twitched at the sight, and excitement and nerves melded together in his belly. Seeing you standing there with a strap on hooked around yourself was quite a sight to behold, but he couldn’t help but notice the flush to your cheeks, the shyness in your gaze as you studied yourself with curiosity. Edward smirked, reaching down to give his cock a few strokes in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

“Well?” you said, turning to face him, gesturing to the bed.

Edward nodded, carefully laying down onto his stomach, on his hands and knees. He heard the squirting of lube again as you prepared yourself – but instead, he felt your fingers once more probing at his tight entrance. The first finger slid in with more ease this time, before you inserted a second finger. Edward hissed slightly at the pressure, gritting his teeth. But within seconds, pleasure replaced the pain. He arched his back slightly, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He grunted in response, his forehead falling onto the mattress. You inserted a second finger into his ass, curling them inside of him, and he groaned at the sensation. His cock brushed against the bed, but he refrained from touching himself. A moment later, he you probe his tight sphincter with a third finger, and he hissed again as he felt his asshole stretch open. The combined pressure and pleasure of your three fingers in his ass made him tense, made his insides bundle with pleasure and excitement. His cock throbbed, leaking precum, and he grinded his hips into the bed for some sense of relief.

“Ah-ah,” you said, and he could practically hear the smile in your voice. “Can’t control yourself, can you, Mr. Nigma?”’

“Be quiet,” he muttered, a rush of anger surging through his veins. Here he was, ass up, your fingers massaging his sensitive prostate, curling inside of him and making him squirm.

You laughed lightly, but after several more minutes, you pulled your fingers from him. “What’s wrong, Edward? Does it feel better than you expected?”

He was quiet for a moment while he considered your question. “Of course I knew it would feel good. You should be thrilled that I’m allowing you this honor.”

“Uh-huh,” you laughed again, but he glanced over his shoulder at you as he watched you grab the bottle of lube again. You squirted some onto your hand and rubbed it along the strap on until it was dripping. Using a little more, you slid your fingers back in between his ass cheeks and lubed him up. Edward shuddered, sucking in a breath, nerves tightening in his belly – until he felt the head of the strap on pressing against his ass.

“Are you ready?” you asked him.

“Just do it,” he muttered, unable to help the flush crawling up his throat.

And then, you pushed in. Edward clenched his jaw tight, his hands fisting around the bed sheets, the breath catching in his throat. The cockhead of the strap on was smooth and silken, and as you pushed, he felt his tight sphincter open slightly, enough to begin accepting the head – but it was bigger than your fingers, and a slight, searing pain trickled along his opening. He gritted his teeth and whined slightly at the intrusion.

You stopped your movements. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” he muttered again, refusing to back down. “I can take it.”

“I don’t think you can,” you said, and he swore he pictured your sneaky smile.

He scoffed out a laugh. “I think you’re treading on treacherous water, my dear.”

“Am I?” you asked – and you pushed in a little more.

He gasped again, feeling the head push farther into him. His knuckles turned white as he gripped tighter onto the bedsheets. “Fuck,” he whispered as another low whine escaped his lips.

You laughed again, one of your hands stroking his ass, fingernails raking against his skin. “Something wrong, Mr. Nigma? Or is this too much for you?”

Edward ground down on his teeth. “Nothing is ever “too much” for me. I can—”

You pushed in a little more, cutting him off. Edward gasped. His head slumped forward as sweat beaded on his brow, his insides aching at the continued intrusion, yet somehow giving way to a pleasure he’d never experienced before.

“You were saying?” you asked, your voice laced with a strange, authoritative tone.

Edward quirked a brow, sucking in a breath at the way your voice changed. “Are you enjoying this, my dear?” he asked.

“Are you?” you asked, pushing in even more, this time a little harder.

That elicited a low, strangle whine from his lips. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and he cursed under his breath. The pressure was intense, and yet pleasurable, in a strange way he hadn’t predicted. He felt his tight sphincter open, stretching around the smooth, silken strap on. Your hands placed themselves on his waist, digging your nails in.

“…you little minx,” he whispered, a low laugh escaping his lips. “I think you are enjoying this. Enjoying that a man like me, the Riddler, is surrendering control to you—”

At that, you pushed in more, a little harder this time, cutting him off as another whine, a cry of surprise, escaped his lips. There was something about being in this position, so vulnerable and open and letting you have the control, was completely foreign to him. Sweat beaded across his skin, shimmering in the light, and he swallowed down another whine.

“…I think you like letting me have the control,” you whispered.

That made him laugh again. “As if,” he muttered. “You should be grateful you’re getting this honor of fucking me like this.”

“Oh, like this? you asked, and pushed even farther in.

Edward gasped, jerking back slightly at the even further intrusion, as the cockhead of the dildo hit a particualry sensitive spot inside of him. He shuddered at the sensation and his sweaty forehead fell onto the bed, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

“What was that?” you asked, thrusting your hips slightly.

He whined again. The pain and pleasure melded into a delicious sensation he’d never experienced before. The stretch of his asshole, combined with the way the fake cock stroked against his walls, made him see stars. The way it slicked in and out of his tight hole made another low groan escape his lips.

“You know exactly how this feels,” he whispered.

“Feel good, Mr. Nigma?” you asked.

“Y – yes,” he whispered, lower and more needy than he intended.

“You’re going to have to be louder than that, sir,” you said again – as you pushed in even more, a little harder this time, and he swore his eyes rolled back in his head. It was taking all his effort to keep himself propped up on his trembling hands and knees.

“…you should keep that pretty mouth of yours shut,” he whispered.

You laughed again, and he felt you the cock slide out of him – before sliding back in again, a little harder this time. The cockhead hit another spot, one that made his back arch further and he whined even louder. His cheeks flushed as an embarrassed heat crawled across his skin. Here you were, impaling his ass with a fake cock, laughing at him – and he was not only embarrassed but beyond aroused, too. His cock throbbed harder, desperate for relief.

“I’m all the way in,” you said after a moment. “Do you want me to fuck you, Edward?”

Your question made his skin tingle and a shiver creep down his spine. “Y-yes,” he whispered again, his voice low and needy.

“What was that?” you asked. As you spoke, you rocked your hips slightly. The fake cock brushed once more against his most sensitive spot, and he groaned.

“Yes!” he grumbled, whining. “Yes, please…”

“Please what?” you whispered now, your voice taking on a husky tone.

“Please…please fuck me, detective,” he gasped out, pressing his hips backwards.

“Good boy,” you said – and those two little words almost made him cum instantly. Your praise sent lighting through his skin. You’d never praised him like this before, and something about it ignited something deep and hidden within him.

He shuddered as you pulled back – and then entered him again. The sensation of the fake cock brushing against his move sensitive spot made another low, quiet whine escape his lips. White spots danced between his eyes, his hands tightening around the bedsheets – but you pulled back and thrust into him once again. First with shallow thrusts, each one making a soft gasp escape his lips. The pleasure was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, nothing he’d felt, and heat prickled along his skin. Soft gasps left his mouth with each thrust as you pulled back and entered him, over and over again. He gritted his teeth and grunted each time you entered him, your hands digging into his hips, nails biting into his flesh.

“Fuck…fuck,” he whispered, unable to stop the curses from slipping from his mouth. His cock continued to pulse with furious need, desperate for stimulation. It brushed against the blankets, and the combined sensation of you fucking his ass and the rubbing made him groan.

Your thrusts were shallow at first, more gentle, and he could hear your own steadied breaths with each time you thrust into him. Edward’s head tilted backwards as his eyes squeezed shut, and stars danced behind his eyelids. Pleasure continued to flicker and burst inside of him, each stroke of yours growing bolder, more desperate, as if you were enjoying this just as much. Being this vulnerable, letting you have such control over him…he couldn’t describe it, couldn’t explain how it felt to just let go and lose himself to the sensations.

“…fuck, detective,” he whispered again.

“You like this, Edward?” you asked, thrusting a little harder and deeper into him – eliciting a strangled cry of pleasure from him.

His cock pulsed again. Each thrust only made more whines and curses spill from his lips. His knuckles fisted tighter into the bed, turning white – but he couldn’t control himself anymore. The bundle of nerves continued inside of him, each time the fake cock stroked against his prostate, another low whine escaped him, trembling as he shook and sweat rolled down his back. The pleasure was intense and yet overwhelming, and it continued to grow inside of him, like a balloon swelling with water.

“Gonna cum, Edward?” you asked.

“Uh-huh…” he moaned, low and whiny, deep in his throat.

“Touch yourself,” you whispered. “Cum for me, Edward.”

That was just the permission he needed. He reached in between his legs and grabbed his cock, wrapping his long fingers around the shaft, and he stroked rapidly, desperately – but all he needed was just a few strokes before that balloon of pleasure inside of him popped – and he came with a strangled cry. His cock pulsed as cum burst from the tip, soaking the bed sheets underneath him, his whole body quaking as you thrust even faster into him, helping him ride out his orgasm. His entire body tensed as he saw fireworks, and another curse escaped his lips – before his body collapsed onto the bed, sticky cum coating his stomach, pooled underneath him.

Your thrusts slowed, before coming to a stop entirely. Edward remained quiet as his body continued to pulse with pleasurable warmth, before you pulled out of him. The sudden emptiness of his asshole made him shudder, even though he felt the slick lube in between his ass cheeks. He sucked in breaths, trying to control himself, but he felt your hands on his back, nails stroking against him as you leaned over his body, your lips grazing the back of his neck.

“Good boy, Edward,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “You did so well.”

“You be quiet,” he muttered again. “It’s an honor you get to see me like this.”

“Like what?” you laughed lightly. “Thoroughly fucked?”

He smirked, staring at you with heavy lidded eyes. “You know I’m going to pay you back for this, don’t you, my dear?”

You smirked back. “I’m counting on it.” And you pressed your lips to his.

[melodyreads]

Only threw this party for you

Hamzah x (fem)reader

Description: It's the reader's birthday and she decided to host a "rager". Her friends are skeptical as she's never been interested in hosting parties. Little do they know, it was all planned with the hope that one person in particular would make an appearance.

a/n: I'm sure you can tell from my profile pic that I'm a huge Charli fan lol. This idea came to me as I was playing this album on repeat. Hope y'all enjoy <3

---

The bass thumped against the walls, the thick air overbearing with the smell of spilled drinks and hot bodies. You had never been one for house parties—especially not the kind filled with strangers you barely knew. But this made the party all that much more appealing right? Tonight was different.

Tonight was a gamble.

Your friends had raised their eyebrows when you’d proposed the idea. "Since when do you throw parties?" Taylor had asked, skepticism lacing her tone. You’d only shrugged, feigning nonchalance, while anticipation clawed at your ribs. You have just recently moved into a new apartment with lots of space, so this could be your chance to show it off. While everyone else thought this was just a random burst of spontaneity, you knew better.

You’d planned every detail of this night with one hope in mind:

that Hamzah would show up.

Hamzah had been your friend for years— at least, that was how you would describe him. You weren't even sure if he felt the same way anymore. Your friendship teetering on the edge of something more but never quite crossing that line. That was until one night you had said a few more words then you should have.

---

It had been late, just the two of you lingering in the glow of streetlights after the rest of your friends had gone home. He always walked you home.

His arms rested in his pockets as he looked down at you smiling while you recited a story you found hilarious.

"Can you believe that? She went that far all for some guy. I can't even imagine."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, people do crazy things for the people they like."

You laughed, a little breathless, but his smile made your heart skip. It was like there was a quiet understanding between the two of you, a connection that lingered in the spaces between your words.

As we arrived at my apartment, something in the city air made me feel a bit too confident. Suddenly, words tumbled from your lips before you could stop it. "Honestly, I can only imagine going that far if he was someone like you."

Too much.

Hamzah stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape with wide eyes.

You had let your guard slip.

He hadn’t responded right away. His gaze had flickered, searching yours, his lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing came. The silence stretched too long, thick and suffocating, until finally, he had only managed a quiet, "I should go."

___

That was the last you had heard from him in weeks. You were too embarrassed to phone him or go by his house and apologize for making the situation so weird.

You tried not to scan the crowd too obviously, though your heart shot up each time the front door creaked open. Friends mingled, and people you barely knew were making out in corners. Almost everyone was enjoying themselves, dancing in dim lighting without a care in the world. Someone had taken control of the playlist, swapping your mix of what you liked to call, "gay club music" with Nettspend.

Still, no Hamzah.

You were starting to lose hope.

You went outside in an attempt to cool off. The view was the highlight of your new place. The city lights shined brightly as you looked down imagining what the rest of the world was doing tonight.

What he was doing.

Your head turned to see the steam rolling off the newly integrated pool on your balcony. Beside the view, it was your favorite part of the apartment, and one of the main reasons you fought so hard to secure this place. You looked back through the door you came from.

No one seemed to notice you were even gone.

You slowly removed the short dress you were wearing. As you kicked it to the side, you plunged into the warm water.

The warmth of the water wrapped around you, contrasting against the crisp night air. You let yourself float, eyes closed, taking in the sacred peacefulness. You felt your heart start to ache. You weren’t sure if it was the remnants of disappointment or the burn of anticipation that you couldn’t quite shake.

When you finally broke the surface, slicking your hair back and blinking against the city lights, your breath caught in your throat.

Hamzah was there.

Sitting by the edge of the pool, laying back on his arms, watching you with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes bore into yours with an expression almost unreadable The golden glow of the city cast soft shadows across his face, making the moment feel almost unreal.

You suddenly became acutely aware of your lack of clothes.

Your stomach twisted as embarrassment crept up your spine. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to maybe make a joke and defuse the tension, but nothing came out. He beat you to it.

“You always do this,” he said in a deep but quiet voice.

Your brows knitted together. “Do what?”

“Run away.”

You swallowed hard, shifting in the water as you hugged your arms around yourself. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Hamzah let out a breath, shaking his head. “I wasn’t. I just… I needed to think.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. The air between you buzzed with an unspoken weight, the memory of your last encounter hanging between you like a feeling you couldn't shake.

Then, in the silence, he said it.

“I like you.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” he continued, his voice softer now, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to say it. “And I freaked out when you got close because I didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too quickly. The warmth of the pool did nothing to ease the chill spreading through your veins—not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of his words.

You started to move towards him.

Reaching for the ledge, you pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to get the bottom half of his clothes wet.

The space between you dissolves into nothing. Your fingers found his jaw, your fingers finally meeting at the side of his mouth before leaning in.

The moment his lips met yours, it was like everything clicked into place.

Your mouths moved against each other in fever as if you were both making up for lost time. Which you definitley were.

In one swift movement, he pulled you out of the water completely so that your drenched body was straddling his. The tension that had been lingering for weeks melted in the heat of the kiss. He tasted like the city night and something inherently him—something you had been wanting for longer than you cared to admit. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the slick fabric of your bra, grounding you in the reality of it all.

When you finally pulled away, foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

"So..." Hamzah said out of breath, "Who’s the lucky guest of honor?”

You shrugged, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you. “Dunno. Just… felt like celebrating.”

He chuckled at this, something dark in his eyes shined as he leaned in close enough for only me to hear.

“Happy birthday, then,” he murmured, voice softer now.

Maybe—just maybe—the gamble had paid off.

---

a/n: Just wrote this in my 365 partygirl shirt hope I channeled the vibes. Thank u for reading <3333333333333333

[fuck1ng-queen]

Under the stars

Nick Folio x Reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: none, just some fluuuuuuufy things today!

Author comments: hi, besties! today is the day to celebrate valentine's with our baby drum boy Folio 💕 thank you so much for all the love you're giving me these days with all the notes, i'm so happy for it! i hope you like it and i'll see you tomorrow! (i didn't had time to make a header for today's fic, on sunday i'll make one and put in here)

It was a clear, cold morning, with the rays of the winter sun lighting up the streets still covered in the night's dew. You woke up to the soft sound of a notification on your phone, a message that brought an instant smile to your face:

Drum Boyyy: “Good morning! Ready for the best Valentine's Day ever?”

Folio was the kind of person who made small moments seem big. You had met by chance, a meeting that began with shy glances in an instrument store and evolved into long conversations about everything from music to the meaning of life's little coincidences. Today was special, and he had insisted that you leave everything in his hands.

After replying with a heart emoji, you got up and started getting ready. He had only told you to wear something comfortable and be ready by 10am. Your curiosity grew each minute, but you trusted him and knew he loved to surprise.

At 10 a.m., Folio stood at your door, carrying a large backpack and a mysterious expression. He was wearing a flannel shirt that looked like it was made for hugging, and his smile was contagious.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he said, extending his hand to you. “Are you ready?”

“Depends. Shall we climb a mountain or something?” you joked.

He laughed, the warm sound filling the cold air. “Nothing too extreme, I promise. But I need you to trust me.”

You drove on for about 30 minutes, until you reached a park you had never visited before. The place was a quiet haven, with tall trees and winding trails. Folio took a blanket out of his backpack and some bags full of food.

“A picnic?” you asked, watching as he began to organize everything precisely.

“Well, it's more than that,” he replied, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “But let's start here.”

You sat on the blanket, and he revealed hot coffee in a small thermos, carefully wrapped sandwiches and a bowl of fresh fruit. You talked about recent memories, laughed at inside jokes and shared a bar of chocolate that he had bought just because it was your favorite.

“You really pay attention to everything, don't you?” you commented, smiling as you unwrapped the chocolate.

“Always,” he replied without hesitation. “Especially when it comes to you.”

Time seemed to slow down, and everything around you seemed wrapped in a bubble of tranquillity. After you had eaten, Folio asked you to close your eyes.

“Trust me, it'll be worth it,” he assured you with a mysterious tone.

“Nick, if I open my eyes and find a strange bug, you're in trouble,” you said with a laugh, but you obeyed.

With your eyes closed, you heard the sound of rustling paper and smelled the faint scent of flowers. When he finally told you to open your eyes, you saw a notebook in his hands and a wreath of flowers that he carefully placed on your head.

“I know you love to write,” he began, a little hesitantly, ”so I thought I'd create a space just for us. I want this notebook to be a place for us to put our moments together. We can start right now.”

It was such a simple gesture, but so meaningful. With a lump in your throat and a sincere smile, you accepted the notebook and wrote the first entry:

“Today, in the park, Nick gave me one of the most beautiful presents I've ever received. It wasn't just the notebook or the bouquet of flowers, but the feeling that he really understands me.”

Folio read what you had written and smiled, picking up the pen to add something. “My handwriting isn't as nice as yours, but here we go,” he said before writing:

“Making you smile is my favorite thing on earth. I hope we never stop writing this story together.”

You laughed when you saw his handwriting, slightly slanted and with some letters too big. “It's perfect,” you said. “Just like today.”

The day continued with more surprises. A short trail took you to a lookout point with an incredible view, where he took a guitar out of his backpack. You looked at him in surprise.

“Since when do you carry a guitar? In fact, how much stuff can you fit in there?”

“Ever since I found out that you love live music,” he replied, sitting down on a tree trunk. “This one's for you.”

He began to play a soft melody, and although he wasn't a professional guitarist, every note seemed to be charged with feeling. The song was one of your favorites, and you felt your eyes fill with tears as he sang softly.

“That was amazing,” you said when he had finished, clapping your hands jokingly. “I think you just got extra points.”

“Good to know,” he replied with a shy smile, putting the guitar away. “But it's not over yet.”

You took photos together, laughed about how none of them were “perfect,” and talked about your plans for the future. Folio mentioned places he wanted to visit with you, stories he wanted to create and even recipes he wanted to test, as long as you act like his “official guinea pig.”

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in orange and pink, Folio looked at you with a more serious expression.

“I planned all this because I wanted you to know how important you are to me,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. “But more than that, I want you to know that every moment with you makes every other day worth it.”

You felt your heart racing as he held your hand. “I know I’m not perfect, but I want to keep trying to be, for you.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, smiling. “Nick, you’re already more than enough. Thank you for today… for everything.”

The sun was already disappearing on the horizon when Folio stood up and reached out his hand for you one more time.

“C’mon, there’s one more thing I want to show you,” he said with a smile.

Curious, you followed him to a small clearing where there was a makeshift campfire. He skillfully lit the flames, and you sat around the fire.

"Remember that night we talked about our favorite things?" Folio asked, his face lit up by the flames.

"Of course, it was one of our first conversations," you replied wistfully.

“So, I bought marshmallows,” he said, pulling a bag out of his backpack. “I thought it would be a good way to end the day.”

You spent what felt like hours roasting marshmallows, sharing stories, and laughing together. Every minute was filled with a genuine connection, a reminder of how much you cared for each other.

As the stars began to shine in the sky, Folio approached and put his arm around you. “I wanted this day to be unforgettable, and I hope it was.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his presence. “It was more than unforgettable. It was perfect, Nick.”

He turned his face gently, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart soar. “Can I do one last thing to make the day truly perfect?” he asked, his voice low and soft.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your face. “What would that be?”

Folio didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned in slowly, his lips meeting yours in a tender, meaningful kiss. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth of the fire and the rapid beating of your hearts.

When you finally parted, he whispered: “Now, yes, perfect.”

You smiled, your eyes shining with emotion. “I agree. Perfect.”

And in that instant, under the starry sky and with the soft sound of the fire crackling, you knew that Valentine's Day would forever be a precious memory. Not just for the surprises or gestures, but for the sincere love you shared.

.

Masterlist | Valentine's One Shots

Send me an ask to join my taglist

taglist: @lacy1986 @kenjipepsi1 @chey-h @concretejunglefm @blade-dressed-in-red @xxkittenkissesxx @bloody-spades

[jumpingjoltiks]

Here’s another idea for a bit of a comically anarchist reader who doesn’t believe in rules; Imagine Emmet and Ingo getting together with a person who loves to break into restricted places(such as their office or… Well… I can’t think of many other place they wouldn’t mind *too* much for their s/o to break in, but I’m sure you’ll have ideas of your own! ( >౪<)ﾟ) only to leave sweet gifts like hot chocolates or coffees for their beloved or objects Ingo and Emmet might have forgotten when going into work or needed once at work? Like, if one day it suddenly starts suddenly raining, umbrellas or, if it starts snowing, scarves and snow gloves? Wouldn’t that be just the sweetest??? (灬º ᗢूº灬)

How mischievous! 🤭

At first, they don’t really notice. The twins are kept so busy with work – the minding and upkeep of the subway trains, writing up and checking over incident reports, and, of course, the battle subway – that it’s easy to lose track of things.

A pack of Emmet’s favorite energy drink, the one he keeps in the mini-fridge by his desk, mysteriously replenishes over the weekend.

It rains, and suddenly, a pair of umbrellas appear on either side of their office door. Had those always been there?

How considerate it was, for the depot agents to drop off a pair of coffee orders, done up just the way they liked them.

They’re a little surprised at first when they realize that none of these things are coincidence.

It’s the day they’ve forgotten their lunches at home. The brothers had bemoaned the mistake, but they’d been in a rush that morning. The two had slept in a little too late after a long night of movies with you. They would have to resort to the quick service sandwich shop in the lobby instead of the homemade meals they preferred.

So when a pair of perfect lunches, packed neatly and placed on the center of each of their desks, appear, they’re naturally a little surprised.

Chandelure had sometimes done things like this. It used to be, on particularly late nights, the ghost pokemon would silently vanish out of the room and return with a box of leftovers, or better – warm takeout.

But she’d been battling with Ingo all morning. She’d had no time to go all the way home and back again.

Ingo and Emmet puzzle over it, trying to determine where the mystery food had come from.

Ingo steps into the hall to grab a depot agent and ask them some questions.

Emmet has a different suspicion. He texts you.

Honey Bunneary, did you reallllly come all the way to the station to drop off lunches for Ingo and I?

The text he receives only a moment later is proof of his suspicions

Hehehe Guilty! I couldn’t stand the thought of my favorite guys going hungry <3

Emmet narrows his eyes at the phone

and you didn’t wait to say hello while you were here! Verrrrrry mean! we would have liked to see you! :(

I wanted it to be a surprise! Don’t worry, I’ll give you a warm hello when you get home tonight Hope you enjoy baby xoxo

Ingo returns from asking the depot agents if they’d seen you (or anyone unauthorized) enter the employee-only area. They hadn’t, but your texts confirmed what the depot agents had overlooked.

So how had you managed it?

Back home, you neatly tuck your stolen gear station uniform away into its storage box under the bed. There it will stay until the next time your boys needed something.

[blaire-windsor]

February 14, 2019

Blaire had never spent Valentine’s Day alone before. It wasn’t something she had ever planned on doing because love, after all, had always been a constant in her life. This year? Atticus was gone. Or, at least, he was distant in a way that made it clear they were over, even if neither of them had said the words out loud. She should have been heartbroken. Should have felt the absence of him like a missing limb.

But she didn’t.

What she missed wasn’t him, not really. She missed the feeling of being tethered to someone, of knowing there was one person in the world who thought of her first. She missed the assurance that, on a night like tonight, she would have someone’s hand to hold, a shoulder to rest her head against.

She tried to distract herself, flipping through her textbooks, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. No matter what she did, her mind kept drifting, slipping away from the past and into something, or rather, someone else.

Jeremy.

Had he ever spent Valentine’s Day alone? Or was he out right now, charming some girl, making her feel like the center of the universe with that lazy smile of his?

The thought sent a sharp twist through Blaire’s stomach, the ache settling deep in her chest. It was pathetic, really, how effortlessly he consumed her thoughts, how she yearned for something that was never hers to claim. She tried to fight it, to push him from her mind, but it was useless. It was always him. It had only ever been him.

So she did the only thing she could think of to feel close to him. She opened her laptop and created an anonymous Spotify account.

For hours, she combed through songs, each one a quiet confession, a whisper of everything she couldn’t say. You’re In My Dreams. Yearning. One Day. How I Feel. Each playlist became a love letter, a secret she could only speak in melodies.

She lingered the longest on one playlist in particular.

I Can’t Have You.

She filled it with aching, heart-wrenching songs - ones that felt like crying into a pillow at midnight, like staring at someone from across the room and knowing they’d never be yours. Waiting Room. Lover, You Should’ve Come Over. Every lyric was a piece of her, every note a quiet prayer that, somehow, he might hear the music the way she did.

Then, finally, she bought the card.

It was simple but cute, the paper red with a little mixtape on the front, the words You make my heart sing scrawled across it. Inside, she spilled her soul.

Jeremy,

From the moment I first saw you… those curls, those deep brown eyes, that sly, knowing smile with the tiny dimple in your right cheek… I felt something shift inside me. A quiet symphony began to play, a melody only I could hear, one that grows louder every time you’re near.

You are close enough to touch, yet impossibly out of reach. Still, I ache for you in a way I can’t quiet, in a way that lingers in the silence of the night, in the spaces between stolen glances and fleeting moments.

So I will stay here, yearning in the shadows, loving you from afar. If the universe is kind, maybe one day, my dreams won’t just be dreams.

Yours, always,  Your secret admirer

She hesitated only for a moment before scribbling the link to the playlist at the bottom. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she slipped out of her dorm, the cold air biting at her skin as she hurried across campus.

Jeremy’s dormitory was quiet when she reached his door. She let out a slow breath, staring at the envelope in her hands. Then, with a racing heart and trembling fingers, she slid it under the door.

As she walked back through the empty halls, a strange warmth bloomed in her chest. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t know it was from her. It didn’t matter that tonight was spent alone, that she wouldn’t wake up to flowers or chocolates or whispered “I love you’s.”

For the first time in a long time, Blaire had put her heart into the world; and somehow, despite the solitude, this was her favorite Valentine’s Day of all.

[be-an-echo]

Happy birthday Vane! @seethesunny

To the one of the most talented people out there! I'm so thankful these two brought us together. You're the best and you deserve all the happiness in this world 🥳 ILY 💕

[hihopelessromantics]

Open letter of love to the queer and LGBTQIA community in America and abroad in these dark times. Please know that out there in the world there is at least [1], likely many more, people who witnessed your existence and are fundamentally better for it. Someone who took courage from your expression of self. Someone was genuinely able to smile in a dark place because they saw you, or something you made to express yourself. Someone who saw something you and your community shared with the world and felt so lucky to witness it. Someone who took comfort knowing you are out there somewhere and hopes you will thrive. Maybe you will never know the exact measure of joy you brought to some people, and get to understand the gratitude and love they have for you, which is a damn shame. To the queer people in my life and those I’ve had the pleasure of crossing paths with, through art or dialogue or writing or silly posting, thank you. And thank you for sharing your thoughts and creations with us. I hope you will continue to do so, and that many more people than you anticipated will step forward and fight like hell for you. You deserve it.

[protect-namine]

I actually have a fic idea but lc is a show that's like. you will never ever have all the information and context until the end. and I am a writer who writes best and more confidently when I have all the info and context at my fingertips. so now I'm just like 🧍‍♂️

anyway. ramble in the tags

[groovytimes]

We live in a world where the bare minimum is too much to ask. Always be thankful to those who still value kindness.

[icewindandboringhorror]

me everytime I am preparing a meal with multiple elements I have to balance so they all finish cooking at the same time: Wow this is just like the 2009 hit Nintendo Wii game 'Food Network: Cook Or Be Cooked'