#[he can't keep getting away with these replies!!!!]

[aervera]

Only Yours Today

synopsis. when nanami unexpectedly calls in sick just to spend the day with you contents. sfw, tooth-rotting fluff, nanami being a gentleman and a sweetheart. notes. i want a day-off from college. but i can't since last semester and everything is hectic

MASTERLIST

you wake to the smell of coffee and the sound of your favorite kettle whistling.

your first instinct is to panic—because nanami never leaves for work without waking you first. he’s religious about routine, almost obnoxiously so. 7:00 a.m. sharp, every weekday. a kiss on your forehead, a brush of his knuckles down your jaw, then the sound of the front door closing softly behind him.

except he’s… here?

you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the sun is barely peeking through the gauzy curtains, painting the room in soft gold. there’s the familiar creak of floorboards, then the quiet click of your bedroom door opening.

nanami steps in with a tray balanced in one hand and that subtle smile that always manages to wreck you.

“good morning, y/n,” he says, voice warm, deep, and freshly brewed like the mug in his hand.

you blink at him, confused but already melting. “…are you working from home?”

he sets the tray on your lap—coffee, lightly sweetened just how you like it, and toast with the edges cut off.

“i called in sick,” he says casually, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. “so i’m all yours today.”

you stare at him.

then blink.

“wait, what?”

“i said—”

“you called in sick?”

he nods once, then takes off his glasses to wipe them with the edge of your blanket like he does when he’s pretending to be nonchalant.

“you never call in sick,” you say, still stunned. “you went to work the day you had the flu. you showed up to a meeting after a night mission with three broken ribs.”

“that was reckless,” he agrees simply.

“exactly—so why now?”

nanami finally meets your gaze, his expression gentling as he walks over to your side of the bed.

“because you looked tired last night,” he murmurs, “and i wanted to give you something soft to wake up to today. so… me.”

your breath catches.

because he says it without fanfare, without performance. just a truth he’s already accepted.

you shake your head slowly, dazed. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’m aware,” he replies smoothly. “but you’re the one who keeps me.”

breakfast happens slowly, in the warmth of rumpled sheets and half-lidded smiles. nanami sips his coffee while reading the news off his phone, one hand casually resting on your thigh under the blanket like it belongs there. (it does.)

afterward, you get up to brush your teeth, but he follows you into the bathroom like a shadow. you arch a brow when he wordlessly picks up your toothbrush, dabs on paste, and hands it to you.

“you’re hovering,” you mumble, toothpaste foaming slightly.

“i’m staying,” he corrects. “different.”

you snort.

but you don’t ask him to leave.

by 10 a.m., the two of you are on the couch, feet tangled, a fuzzy blanket over both your legs. there’s an old documentary playing—nanami’s choice, something about 19th-century trade policies—and you’re pretending to watch, but you’re really just watching him.

his hand rests on your ankle, thumb lazily drawing circles.

there’s no urgency in his touch. no demand. just quiet affection, like he has nowhere else to be—and more importantly, no one else he’d rather be with.

you sigh, nuzzling your cheek against the pillow. “i still can’t believe you called in sick. they’ll riot at the office.”

“they’ll survive.”

“you’re the backbone of the entire team.”

“i am.” he glances over at you. “but you are the backbone of me. and i happen to think today, i need my spine more than they do.”

you blink slowly.

“you’re weirdly poetic when you’re not sleep-deprived.”

“i am always poetic. you just don’t listen before your morning coffee.”

you both laugh.

it’s light and easy, the kind of laughter that only happens when the rest of the world is far away.

around noon, you both go for a walk. nanami holds your hand like it’s a habit, not a choice—thumb brushing over your knuckles as he listens to you ramble about the weird dream you had last night (something about a baby panda that spoke fluent french and asked you for tax advice).

he listens, fully and attentively, nodding like it’s the most important topic in the world.

at one point, he pauses near a small corner café. “would you like to go in?”

you grin. “only if we sit by the window and pretend we’re strangers falling in love for the first time.”

he hums, amused. “you want a day off and a meet-cute?”

“i want it all.”

nanami chuckles. “you always have.”

and you always will—especially when he looks at you like this, like your world is the one he’s happiest orbiting.

you return home in the early afternoon with croissants and coffee and a single tiny flower he plucked from the hedge when he thought you weren’t looking.

you catch him slipping it into your cup holder and he just shrugs, all deadpan. “i didn’t have a vase.”

you press your face into his coat, laughing.

back inside, he rolls up his sleeves again—domestic deity style—and makes you both lunch. it’s something warm and simple, but he plates it like a michelin-star chef because that’s who he is: always composed, always precise, even in love.

“i’ve noticed,” he says quietly as you eat beside him at the dining table, “that when i’m home with you, i feel less like a man dragging his feet through obligation. and more like someone who’s… content.”

you tilt your head. “you’re never obligated to stay.”

he looks at you, serious. “no. but i want to. which is rarer.”

later, you nap in his lap.

he’s seated on the armchair, legs stretched out, a book in one hand and you curled against his chest like you were carved to fit there. his free hand strokes through your hair in slow, absent motions.

he doesn’t say a word.

but you feel it in every quiet sigh, in every slight shift of his fingers against your scalp.

he chose this day. he chose you.

you wake up just as the sun begins to dip behind the skyline, golden-orange light painting his features.

“hey,” you whisper, voice still hoarse with sleep. “still here?”

his hand rests on your back, palm warm and grounding. “always.”

as evening settles in, you both lie on the bed, tangled beneath soft sheets, your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

you whisper, “do you ever regret days like this?”

“never,” he says instantly.

“even when you’re falling behind on emails and half your company probably hates me right now?”

nanami shifts slightly so he can look at you fully. “no one hates you.”

“i might’ve stolen their favorite employee.”

“they’ll manage.” his thumb brushes your cheek. “you need to understand, y/n—i didn’t call in sick because i was burnt out. i called in because i wanted to be here. with you. no spreadsheets. no deadlines. just… this.”

you don’t respond with words.

instead, you tilt your chin up and press your lips to his—softly, slowly, the kind of kiss that speaks of deep affection, quiet promises, and something warm blooming in the silence between breaths.

he kisses you back just as gently.

no rush.

no need to ask for more.

this is enough.

by nightfall, you’re brushing your teeth side by side again, and nanami’s reflection catches yours in the mirror. he watches you like you’re the sunrise at midnight—like you’re something rare and real that he never wants to miss.

you spit out your toothpaste. “you’re staring.”

“i’m allowed.”

“because you’re sick?”

“because i’m in love.”

you freeze, toothbrush halfway to the sink.

then slowly, you glance at him. “you love me?”

nanami places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you gently toward him until you’re standing face-to-face.

“i think i’ve loved you since the first time you made fun of my tie pattern,” he says softly. “but yes—i do.”

your chest tightens in the best way.

you whisper, “i love you too.”

he leans in, brushing his nose against yours. “good. because i plan to call in sick a little more often.”

you grin. “scandalous.”

“i prefer the term intentional.”

that night, he holds you close beneath the blankets, one arm wrapped around your waist, his breath slow and even against your neck.

and just before you fall asleep, you hear him murmur:

“being yours is the only thing that ever made me feel like i wasn’t wasting time.”

you smile into the dark, your heart full.

because today, time didn’t feel wasted.

it felt like love.

[simpforrooster]

i fucking knew it.

aaron hotchner x f!reader

summary: you and aaron have secretly been dating for a while—and the team is starting to suspect it.

t/w: 18+. MDNI. light smut (plz don’t come for me, it was my first time writing something like it), a mention of an age-gap, some cursing, mentions of criminals. i don’t think there is too much gender identifying language, but i did imagine a female while writing.

a/n: i had no idea where this one was gonna go. i hope you enjoy!!

aaron hotchner catches your gaze over the manila folder he’s holding. to the average person, they wouldn’t think twice about this action.

but, you know better.

his eyes hold yours for a few seconds longer, before he resumes reading the details of the case.

the lowlights of the jet’s interior mask the flush that’s appeared on your cheeks. hotch feigns a stretch, his shoe tapping yours slightly as he crosses his leg.

“sorry,” he mumbles, not taking his eyes off the folder.

you wave him off, knowing your voice would betray you.

i saw that, your phone buzzes with a text from jj.

it was an accident, you reply.

yeah right, emily shares.

what! what’s happening? gosh, i hate that i’m stuck in the lair, penelope adds.

hotch smirks at his folder, affirming he knows exactly why your phone is blowing up.

the two of you have managed to keep your relationship under wraps for the past couple of months, but the girls have started to suspect something. rossi too, but you can’t be certain.

aaron caught your eye as soon as you started at the bau. you’d learn that you’d caught his almost instantly. but he was your boss, and there was the age difference.

several late nights of him helping you with your reports and chinese takeout, you fell for one another.

oh, nothing. just hotch thinking he’s being subtle, jj tells penelope.

~

“three rooms?” hotch asks the tired man behind the desk.

“take it or leave it, man. it’s 2 am,” the clerk says on a yawn.

“i call reid and rossi!” derek sticks his hand in the air. emily reaches out to jj’s arm and pulls her into her side.

rossi shakes his head and exchanges a look with aaron. “which one of you boys are sleeping on the floor?”

hotch looks at you apologetically, but you see the underlying want behind those brown eyes.

“i guess that leaves us,” hotch murmurs to his bag, trying to remain unbothered. he grabs your duffle and starts toward the elevator.

your phone buzzes in your back pocket.

one bedroom trope! emily sends to the group.

epee! penelope replies.

he grabbed her bag, pen! jj shares.

aaron has never once carried anyone’s bag to a hotel room. his gaze catches yours over his shoulder telling you he realizes the implications. his stoic expression returns as you all enter the elevator.

~

the girls, reid, morgan, and rossi get off at the third floor, leaving you and aaron in the elevator alone. not before jj shoots you a wink. hotch visibly relaxes, and gives you one of those smiles he reserves only for you and jack.

"we're on another floor? that's really going to set the girls off," you comment. aaron shrugs like the duffle bag gave it all away and yall should just fuck the secrecy. he takes a step closer to you. back-to-back cases have kept the two of you from any quality time that wasn't outside of a police precinct and the tension radiates off him.

aaron leads you down the hall once the elevator doors open on the fourth floor. his giant hand engulfs yours, and you can't wait to get into the room.

"this is us," he gestures toward the door. dropping your hand, he pulls the keycard from his pocket. swiping y'all in, he pulls you into the room.

as soon as the door closes behind you, you're being pushed against it.

"god, I've been dying to get my hands on your for days," hotch groans against your mouth. you answer him with a small moan you tried to keep in.

you push his suit jacket off his shoulders, then grip his tie. using his tie, you pull him completely flush against you. his tall body is all over you. there is no spot where his body isn't touching yours.

“tell the criminals to take a break,” you breathe. “you almost blew it at the precinct in the last case.”

aaron moves his kisses along the side of your neck. “that officer was getting a little too friendly with you.”

“but a couple hair flips had him on our side, yeah?” you’re breathless with the work aaron is making of your neck. at the mention of your harmless flirting, his arms tighten possessively around you. his mouth moves lower along your collarbone, sucking lightly. he’s learned where most of your shirt collars lie so he can hide the marks he leaves on you.

aaron pulls you from the door, kissing you like you’re his lifeline. he walks you back until the back of your knees hit the bed. “no more work talk, baby,” he says against your mouth. heat pulls in your lower belly at the pet name and a sigh escapes.

the first time aaron called you anything but your last name, you could have climbed him right then. he still uses your last name, or just agent, in the field, but it’s softer than it used to be.

as aaron pushes you back on the bed, you make quick work removing his tie and dress shirt. the white shirt he wears underneath pulls across his chest. your arms move over his biceps reveling in just how nice they are.

“you like what you see?” aaron smirks, his hand slipping under your top.

you answer him with a hand on his chin, guiding him to your lips. “always,” you breathe.

he smiles against your lips. “why don’t we get you a little more comfortable,” he says, pulling your top off and throwing it to the other side of the room. you’re pretty sure it lands on the lamp. this earns a laugh. aaron checks over his shoulder and chuckles along with you.

“i told you, i need to get my hands on you.” he reaches behind you, unclasping your bra. which follows the same trajectory as your shirt.

“hmm, this isn’t quite fair,” you murmur. you push aaron back until you’re sitting up in his lap. your thighs settle on either side of his, and his hands fall to them, giving them a light squeeze.

“tell me.”

“you still have your shirt on,” you tell him, running your hands along his chest. aaron reaches back with one hand and pulls the undershirt from his body. it’s so insanely sexy, your mouth drops open. how is this guy real?

aaron chuckles again. “you never cease to amaze me.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re practically an adonis.”

he rolls his eyes and pulls you flush against him. “you’re talkative tonight.” he presses a kiss under your ear. you crane your neck to give him more access.

“i always talk a lot when i’m nervous,” you admit. truthfully, there is nothing to be nervous about. you and aaron have slept together plenty of times since you’ve gotten together. this is, however, the first time while you’re on a case.

aaron pulls back and studies your face. “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, baby.” his brown eyes search yours. the want in his is palpable. you’re certain the same is reflected in yours. your hands knot in his hair and you guide his mouth to yours.

“no, i want to. i need to,” you say, rolling your hips into his, his erection has your cheeks flushing. “i just still can’t believe it’s happening. you and me,” you admit.

aaron kisses you. it’s full of wanting and urgency, as if he’s afraid you’re going to disappear right beneath his fingertips.

“you and me were destined the moment i laid eyes on you,” he says, laying you back and settling between your legs.

~

the next morning, there is just enough time to grab some continental breakfast before meeting the local pd. normally, you don’t like to waste time on something as menial as breakfast, especially with a serial killer on the loose, but you and aaron had a lot of time to make up for and you’d built up quite the appetite.

you left aaron with a chaste kiss on his cheek in the room, before joining everyone in the lobby sans duffle.

“well, you’re glowing,” jj comments as you join her and emily at the table. derek turns from where he’s sitting with rossi and reid. “what’s that?”

emily points to you with her fork. “look at her. a literal ray of sunshine.”

“she looks normal to me,” reid comments. “if not a little worn down. are you feeling okay, y/l/n?” your eyes fall closed, trying to keep your emotions regulated.

“that, reid, is post-coital bliss,” derek says.

“yall have no idea what you’re talking about,” you tell them, praying your cheeks haven’t turned pink, because they’re exactly right.

rossi jumps in to save you. ���come on boys and girls. let’s not make claims of our unit chief breaking fraternization rules on a case unless we’re sure,” he chides. he gives you a knowing look. aaron has definitely let rossi know what’s been going on. hell, if you didn’t know any better, rossi was probably the one who pushed aaron to finally make a move. you shoot him a grateful look.

“who’s breaking fraternization rules?” a deep voice sounds from behind you. just the sound of his voice has you wanting to drag him back up to the room. “baby, you’ve got to have more than that,” aaron comments on your lone piece of toast.

your face jerks towards him at baby. aaron curses lightly under his breath. a rare slip up from mr. professional himself. he stands there with both your duffels in his hands, his shoulder slumped in defeat.

derek smacks the table, cause the front desk workers to look over. “i fucking knew it!!”

your head falls into your hands. aaron’s laugh reverberates through the lobby. his real, earnest laugh. “well, i did good for a while there, huh, babe?” he says to you. leaning back in your chair, you tilt your head back to see him. the grin on his face could cause world peace. it’s not everyday the team gets to see aaron’s real emotions.

“you did,” you agree. he leans down and places a quick kiss on your lips before walking over to the desk to turn the room keys in.

as you reface the girls, their eyes are sparkling.

“i fucking knew it,” emily echos derek under her breath.

masterlist.

[kawaiigirly21]

Our Little Soda Pop: Chapter 2

“Baby please move your head. It's right under my tit.” Natasha mumbled with a groggy voice. It had been a week since she started managing the boy band and letting them invade her privacy every night. They had their own rooms in the penthouse but at that point, they only used them to keep their belongings. The boys had taken a shine to sleeping in Natasha's bed every night and made no effort to stop their behavior. To be fair, Natasha did try to ban them from her room multiple times.

But there was only so much an older demon woman could do against 5 younger demon men who claimed they were obsessed with her scent. “Mm no… comfy.” Baby mumbled back in an incredibly deep morning voice. “Well you gotta move anyway. I need to get up so I can make breakfast. You got a recording session today.” Groaning, Baby instead moved closer into Natasha's side while Mystery tightened his grip on her waist.

“Come on boys. You gotta let me go.” After some heavy convincing, Natasha managed to slip away from the bed that was crowded with all five Saja boys and went to brush her teeth. As she did, she sighed as Abby came up behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. “Come back to bed~ Miss you.” Using one hand, Natasha shoved the man back gently. “Go back to bed young one. I have things to do.” She smiled softly before leaving the bathroom and going to the kitchen. As she started cooking, Natasha began to hum an old song of hers very quietly.

She remembered her years in the spotlight fondly but she had no desire to return to those times. The money was good and she adored her fans. She reveled in her fame and fortune but she hated the paparazzi. The constant invasion of privacy and the fabricated lies they would spin like nosy little spiders angered her. She liked her years in the spotlight, yes but not enough to return. “Smells good. That for us?” Romance smiled as he and Jinu walked into the kitchen slowly.

Sleep still clinging to their bodies. “Yes it is. Good morning. Jinu? Can you go wake up the others? Romance, set the table please?” Natasha asked sweetly. As Jinu left to wake the others, Romance took the opportunity to walk up behind Natasha and grab a handful of her ass. “What the!? Romance!!” Angry and flustered by the action, Natasha turned to scold the man only for his lips to catch her own in a deep kiss while his hands rested on her hips.

His fingers slowly sliding into her fluffy pajama pants. He then pulled away, slowly licking his lips before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I'm hungry, but not for food. Won't you feed me properly lovely lady?~” He asked, almost whining before trying to slide one of his hands into Natasha's underwear. “No. I can't.” Natasha responded firmly by grabbing Romance's hand and moving from her body and pushing past him.

“I'm not going to sleep with you. Now please set the table.” She then replied trying to keep her cool as if she was not at all turned on by the man behind her. Instead of being upset with the rejection, Romance smirked. He knew he got to her. He could smell the arousal from her. He just wished Natasha wasn't so uptight and let herself enjoy the benefits that came with the fact 5 sexy young demon men took interest in her. “Why does it smell like pussy juice out here?” A loud voice interrupted the once peace and quiet Natasha was trying to enjoy.

“Watch your fucking mouth Abby.” Another voice added. “You watch your fucking mouth Baby.” “How about you both watch your fucking mouths?” Jinu groaned as Mystery made a beeline towards Natasha and wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug. “They're so loud…” He whispered into her neck. “Good morning to you too Mystery. Go sit down hun. Breakfast is about to be served.”

Moving from his embrace, Natasha watched as Mystery took his seat next to Baby who was eyeing the extra spicy hot sauce that was placed on the table specifically for him. After breakfast, the boys scattered to their rooms to get ready, save for Romance who decided to stay behind to help with the dishes. After drying the last one, he watched as Natasha retreated to her own room to get ready for the day.

Sneaking into her room and listening to the sound of the shower turning on, Romance smirked and undressed himself before teleporting behind a naked Natasha who, due to the sound of the shower, hadn't heard him appear behind her. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head the moment she felt hands on her hips. “Oh my!!-” “Shhh it's just me.~” Romance replied. “How is that supposed to make me feel any better!? Get out!! I told you no!!” Natasha shouted angrily.

“You said no, but your body said yes. Your scent practically screamed it. Why won't you give in to your instincts. Let me be the first to mate you.~” He whispered as he leaned down to kiss her neck. Natasha felt herself shiver despite the hot temperature of the water. “Can't you smell me? I smell you. Your arousal is like a drug I want to keep taking. It's intoxicating. I'm addicted. We all are. Please~” Romance bit his lip while pressing himself up against Natasha's back, making sure she could feel his erection.

“You just don't wanna listen do you?” She growled, causing the man behind her to tilt his head in confusion before he was shoved against the shower wall with Natasha's hand pressed against his chest and the other grasping his cock. “O-oh shit!!” He choked.

“Do you know how hard it is trying to keep my composer around you sluts? Your musk is constantly flooding my senses and it's driving me crazy. But I still have the sense to keep it professional. Something that seems like a foreign concept to you. So let my tell you something, I'll fuck you. Absolutely! But on my terms. My time. And when I feel like you deserve it. Whore. Now, be a good boy, cum on my hand and tell the others. Because I know they're listening at the door. Go on. Sing like the whore you are.~” Natasha smirked all the while she pumped Romance's cock and listened to his choked moans and begging sounds.

Her demon form allowing her to growl in his ear while he cried in pleasure. “Please! Oh fuck! Mistress! I'm yours! I'm your whore! I wanna be your good boy! Fuck! Fuck! Cumming! Cumming!! Mistress!!!” Natasha watched satisfied as thick ropes of semen shot from Romance's cock. “Good boy. Now get out. I need to wash myself.” She whispered as she pressed a long kiss to Romance's lips before shoving him out of her shower.

Outside of the room, the others watched in envy as Romance stumbled out of Natasha’s room with a dazed smile on his face. The only thing now on their minds was which of them was next.

Chapter 3

[stillalivebydemand893]

Mosh Pits & Real Bruises

18+(can't keep it pg13 even if i tried)

A chaotic weekend at Riot Fest becomes a battle of unresolved tension when you’re forced to share a tent with Erik

The moment you stepped out of Julia’s Jeep and into the chaos of Riot Fest, you knew this weekend was going to end in either sex, arson, or both.

Mud. Music. Mayhem.

And him.

Erik. Fucking. Campbell.

Shirtless. Covered in tattoos. Sunglasses on despite the fact it was cloudy as shit. Holding a six-pack of root beer like it was the Holy Grail and he was the sin-soaked Indiana Jones of your nightmares.

You froze. Eyeliner? Shaking.

“JULIA,” you hissed.

“What?” she replied, with the stone-cold cool of someone who definitely knew what she did. She popped her gum like a villain. “I thought you’d be happy. I put you in the same tent. Save on space. And, y’know…”

She raised an eyebrow.

“The friction.”

You blinked. “I’m going to end you.”

“Don’t dry hump too hard,” she added cheerfully, grabbing her duffel. “The zippers can’t handle that kind of tension. Trust me. I speak from deeply unfortunate experience.”

You spun on her, ready to either scream or cry or crawl into a garbage can.

“You what?! Jules, are you serious?Im going to faint, I need three packs of Marlboros and a gallon of tequila right fucking now.”

“It’ll be fine,” she shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Cue Erik walking up like he heard from God Himself.

“Peach,” he said, dragging the nickname out like a goddamn love song dipped in sarcasm. “Nice to see your eyeliner survived the car ride. Did you use paint thinner this time?”

“You’re one joke away from getting buried alive in a port-a-potty, Campbell.”

Still, you hugged him.. The worst part? He felt good. Warm. Familiar. Like the disaster you never quite outgrew.

This was the guy who made you fall in love with KISS when he showed you Detroit Rock City on DVD ages ago. He used to made fun of you every time you sobbed at the end like a widow.

“THEY MADE UP, ERIK. AT THE CONCERT. IT’S FUCKING BEAUTIFUL,” you’d wailed once, sobbing into his shirt.

He just laughed. “Get a grip, Jesus. You’re leaking.”

Now, standing here, shirtless and smug, he was the same annoying bastard. But hotter. More dangerous.

“By the way,” he added, casually, “don’t spray that crime-against-noses perfume inside the tent again. I swear I sneezed for five hours straight last year.”

You flipped him off. “I’ll just fart instead.”

He nearly tripped over the tent trying to chase you down.

And just like that, war was declared.

By 4 PM your Docs were murdering your feet, you were on your third vodka Red Bull, and Erik had already managed to:

• Flirt with both bartenders.

• Arm wrestle a guy in a fishnet bodysuit.

• Steal a joint from a group of hippies and pretend he “found it on the ground.”

And somehow still have enough energy to piss you off every 15 minutes.

You were mid-rant about your boots when Julia dropped a bomb from her festival chair like she was narrating a true crime documentary.

“So... tiny thing. Your ex is here.”

You stopped chewing your fry.

“WHAT?Don’t joke with things like that Jules!I almost choked.”

“Brad. Cargo shorts. Tank top. Emotional damage.”

You blinked. Hard. Calculating whether stabbing him with a corn dog stick was legally considered assault or performance art.

Erik plopped down beside you. “Why do you look like you’re planning a crime?”

“Her ex is here,” Julia replied, sipping a neon drink .

“Fucking Brad? Is he still pretending to care about climate change to get laid?”

“Worse,” Julia said. “He’s with that TikTok blonde. Looks like she filters her soul.”

You stood, rage bubbling. “Nope. I’m leaving. Give me the keys. I’ll walk to the next state.”

Julia grabbed your wrist. “No. Screw him. Let’s get drunk. Start a pit. Snap a few bones for fun!”

Then Erik stood too, voice low, smirk deadly.

“Or…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Or?”

He leaned in. “We pretend we’re together. You sit on my lap. We kiss. He combusts. I win. You win. Everyone else loses.”

“Why would you enjoy it?”

“I’ve been dying to shut you up with my mouth since sophomore year.”

Your brain said no. Your body? Already glitching.

Your knees? Compromised.

You glared. “That’s evil.”

He grinned, stepping closer. “And hot.”

You took a breath. “Fine. But if you do anything weird, I will kill you with a glow stick.”

He leaned into your ear, voice pure sin.

“Peach, I invented weird.”

Ten Minutes Later

You were in Erik’s lap.

His arms wrapped around your waist.

His hand? Under your skirt, just resting on your thigh. Just enough to drive you crazy without doing anything explicitly illegal.

“This is… disturbingly comfy,” you admitted.

“You’re welcome. I make a great emo couch.”

“You’re also warm. I might keep you.”

He tensed. Just barely. Then squeezed your hip.

“Careful, sweetheart. I might not let you go.”

Your heart betrayed you.

Then- here came Brad. Like a walking red flag and discount cologne.

He looked over.

You smiled.

Erik leaned in, lips brushing your neck.

“Smile for the cheaters,” he whispered.

You ground down just enough to make him hiss.

“You’re playing with fire, Peach.”

You looked back, eyes glowing with mischief.

“Then burn with me.”

Suddenly: “FOO FIGHTERS, BABY! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!” Julia screamed, sprinting toward the stage like her taxes depended on it.

Erik helped you down, and you laced your fingers through his.

Then, without thinking, you grabbed his hand and wrapped it around your waist as you walked.

“What’s this?” he murmured, smirking against your temple.

“Just wanted you to hold me,” you mumbled. Vodka was 80% of your blood. Truths were leaking.

Erik rubbed his jaw like it physically pained him. “Jesus, Peach. You’re drunk. And you’re killing me.”

You giggled. “I am drunk. But don’t die. I want to kiss you before you turn into a ghost.”

His grip on you tightened.

“Peach…”

You turned to him. “Yeah?”

He looked at you like he wanted to kiss you and start a fire at the same time.

“You better mean it. Because if I kiss you… it’s not fake anymore.”

You smiled.

Twenty minutes later, you were tipsy off vodka slushies and Erik’s smug hand on your waist.

The music was thunder. The crowd? Unhinged. You could feel the bass in your spine. Somewhere, someone was vomiting behind a speaker.

Romance was in the air.

You were pressed up against Erik, half-dancing, half-grinding, fully pretending you weren’t imagining what it would be like to climb him like a jungle gym and scream into his mouth.

“Peach,” he warned, voice in your ear, “if you keep looking at me like that, we are not making it to the end of this set.”

“Good,” you purred, letting your hand trail up under his shirt, just slightly. “Then let’s end it early.”

He visibly malfunctioned. You could practically hear the Windows XP shut-down sound in his brain.

“I hate you.”

“You wish.”

Then-

“BRING ME THE HORIZON’S STARTING, LET’S GO DIE IN A PIT!” Julia screamed, launching herself into the crowd like a goddamn Viking.

You whooped, grabbed Erik’s hand, and pulled him in after her.

Big mistake. Huge.

The Mosh Pit

It was a war zone. Sweat. Boots. Elbows. You got hit in the ribs twice, and you loved it. Someone screamed, someone lost a shoe, someone proposed to their girlfriend mid-breakdown. You lived for it.

Until someone shoved you. Hard.

Your boot caught in the mud. Your body lurched. And before you could hit the ground-

Arms. Around you. Tight. Warm. Familiar.

Erik.

He caught you mid-fall, pulling you flush against his chest like you weighed nothing. The look on his face?

Absolute panic + raging murder boner.

“ARE YOU OKAY? WHO THE FUCK SHOVED YOU?”

“I’m fine,” you gasped, but your knees said liar, and your ribs weren’t vibing either.

Erik scanned the pit like he was about to start swinging. “I will punch someone into the sun.”

“Chill, Campbell.”

“No,” he snapped, grabbing your face in both hands, eyes dark. “You do not get to die in my arms because some punk jackass couldn’t handle the circle pit. You’re mine, got it? If anyone’s going to bruise you, it’s gonna be me. Consensually.”

You blinked. Slowly.

“…That was the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Fuck it,” he muttered, lifting you bridal-style like it was nothing. “You’re done. We’re going back.”

“Erik, I can walk-”

“You limped. I saw it. Don’t argue. I’m turned on and concerned and that’s a terrible combo.”

By the time you got back to the tent, you were buzzed, bruised, and completely feral.

Erik laid you down gently like you were made of glass, then immediately turned into a one-man emergency team. He yanked his hoodie off, shoved it under your head, grabbed a half-used first aid kit from his bag, and muttered to himself like he was about to perform surgery.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked.

“My soul. Also my ribs.”

He huffed out a laugh and lifted your shirt,carefully. You watched his face go from playful to holy shit as he caught sight of the forming bruise.

His fingers brushed it softly.

His jaw clenched.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he murmured, not looking up. “I thought-fuck. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“You’d miss me?” you teased, even though your heart was hammering like a war drum.

He finally met your gaze. And this time, there was no joke in his voice.

“Peach. I don’t think I’d recover.”

You swallowed.

The tension exploded like a firework at point blank.

One second you were staring at him.

The next?

Mouths. Colliding.

Tongues. Teeth. Desperation. Heat.

He kissed you like he was mad at you. Like he wanted to ruin you and hold you forever all at once.

You moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

He groaned against your lips. “You sure?”

You nodded, whispering: “Just don’t stop.”

That was all he needed.

He tugged your shirt off, eyes devouring every inch like you were a feast and he was starving.

“God, look at you,” he breathed. “All mine. Finally.”

“Less talking,” you panted. “More ruining me.”

He smirked.

“Brat.”

And then he did exactly that.

You were pinned to the floor of the tent, chest rising, breath ragged.

He hovered above you, hair falling into his eyes, skin flushed and glowing from the adrenaline of the pit and from you. His hands were everywhere. Up your thighs, along your waist, gripping, claiming.

“Say it,” he growled against your neck, voice low and wrecked. “Say you want this.”

You gasped, back arching into him as his mouth sucked just below your collarbone, hard enough to bruise.

“I want this.” You swallowed, voice shaking. “I want you.”

That did it.

He crushed his mouth to yours with the kind of heat that short-circuited your brain. Tongues tangled, teeth clashed. His hands slid under your shirt,greedy, like he couldn’t decide what to touch first. The feel of him pressed between your legs had you melting.

You rolled your hips up into him, and he growled.

“God, Peach…” His lips traced fire down your throat. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

“You first,” you breathed, dragging his shirt up and over his head. He helped, then dove right back in, hands skimming your sides like he was memorizing you by feel alone.

You were bare from the waist up in seconds, cool air hitting hot skin, and Erik froze. His eyes roamed every inch of you, jaw clenched like he was holding back a scream.

“You’re not real,” he muttered.

“Then keep touching me until I am.”

He did.

His mouth closed around your nipple and you cried out, fingers fisting in his hair, dragging him closer. His free hand slid between your thighs, over your underwear, pressing just enough to make your legs shake.

He kissed his way up your chest, lips swollen, voice wrecked. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You moaned, hips lifting.

He smirked. “All for me?”

“Only for you.”

And then,he moved his hand.

Slow. Firm. Torturous.

You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, but he just chuckled darkly.

“Don’t hold back now, baby.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear. “I wanna hear how badly you need me.”

You whimpered, nails dragging down his back as he leaned in, voice dark and delicious in your ear.

“I’ve waited years for this, Peach. I’m not stopping until you forget your name.”

He kissed you again, slower this time. Deeper. The kind of kiss that made your body melt, made your legs fall open, made you want to cry.

Your bodies ground together in a rhythm that felt filthy and perfect, a desperate.

Clothes disappeared. Hands roamed. Skin on skin, breathless and begging.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Erik, please-”

He pulled back, eyes black with want.

“Anything you want,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’m yours.”

“I’m never letting you into a mosh pit again,” he growled, dragging his fingers down your thigh where a scrape still stung.

“I’m never wearing a bra again.”

He blinked.“God bless.”

You smirked and pressed into his hand like the brat you were,already warm, already soaked from adrenaline and the way his voice rasped when he was pissed and turned on at the same time.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice full of danger. “All needy and whiny. My little brat.”

And then,zip.

Your eyes dropped.

Holy shit.

Pierced. Leaking. Ready to ruin you.

Your lips parted involuntarily.

“Someone’s excited to meet me,” you purred, with innocence while inching closer .

“Count your blessings, sweetheart.” He grinned darkly.

Before you could say anything back, he slid into you in one brutal, perfect thrust,no warning, no mercy. You bit down on a gasp, but he was already there, covering your mouth with his, swallowing every moan like it was his favorite song.

And it was. You could feel it. The way he moved. The way his hands gripped your waist like a lifeline. The way his tongue tangled with yours like it was personal.

“Fuck, Peach,” he groaned against your lips. “You feel like you were made for me.”

One hand found your breasts ,thumb brushing your nipple until your back arched like a string had snapped inside you.

“This tent is too damn small-” he grunted.

You barely got the words out: “Then let me ride you.”

That flipped a switch.

In one slick, filthy motion, he rolled and pulled you onto him, guiding your hips like he was building a symphony from chaos.

You settled over him, breath caught in your throat as his piercing brushed that sweet, unbearable spot deep inside you.

“Please guide me,” you whispered, already shaking.

His eyes were black with hunger as he took your hips in both hands and slammed you down, making you cry out.

“Always, baby. I got you.”

And he did. Every bounce. Every drag. Every time your thighs quivered and your moans turned breathless, he was right there, helping you fall apart and loving every second.

“You’re a fuckin’ angel, Peach,” he said through gritted teeth, voice rumbling against your ribs like thunder. “So pretty, so loud for me-keep goin’, I wanna feel you fall apart.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak.

You just moved.

Riding that high with his fingers digging in, his mouth back on your throat, his breath hot against your shoulder, whispering filth you didn’t have the brain cells left to process.

Until it hit.

That snap. That white-hot, stars-exploding, everything-blurring release.

You collapsed against him, shaking, babbling something like his name and a curse and maybe a love confession.

And Erik-sweaty, gorgeous, wrecked,wrapped his arms around you like you were made of glass and buried his face in your neck as he followed, cursing against your skin.

Silence.

Then:

“I think I saw God,” you mumbled.

Erik laughed,that deep, post-orgasmic wheeze of a man who knows he did that.

“If God’s in this tent, we’re both going to hell.”

You didn’t care.

You were in his lap. Still full of him. And the world could wait.

Because for once, you didn’t feel broken.

You just felt his.

You woke up to the smell of sweat, sex, and the faint scent of Julia’s anxiety coffee wafting in from outside the tent.

Your legs were jelly. Your throat was wrecked. Your body?

Fully used. Thoroughly destroyed. Proudly ruined.

You shifted slightly and winced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, flopping back onto the sleeping bag like your bones were made of mashed potatoes. “He actually broke me.”

A voice, dangerously smug, purred beside you:

“That’s what happens when you tell me to go crazy, sweetheart.”

You whipped your head toward Erik, who was lying on his side like a smug little slut .Bedhead. Hickey-covered chest. That damn piercing catching the light. Still naked.

And grinning like the devil just gave him a participation trophy .

“I should slap you.”

He reached over and trailed his fingers down your bare stomach. “You did. Repeatedly. Pretty sure you left claw marks on my back too.”

You flushed.

“…You deserved them.”

“You moaned my name like a prayer and then cried after the third—”

“ERIK.”

He smirked. “You started it, Peach.”

You groaned and shoved your face into the hoodie he’d thrown over you sometime during the night. It still smelled like him. Sin. Laundry soap. Regret. Lust. Possibly weed.

Then, the sound that could strike fear into your horny little heart:

“I KNOW YOU’RE AWAKE, SLUTS!”

Julia.

“IF THAT TENT SMELLS LIKE REGRET AND CUM, I’M BURNING IT.”

You choked on your own oxygen.

Erik grinned. “She’s so supportive.”

You shoved his face into a pillow.

Outside, Julia continued:

“I BOUGHT DONUTS AND THREE TYPES OF GATORADE. BUT NO ONE GETS ANY UNTIL I GET DETAILS. AND YES, I’M YELLING. BECAUSE YOU BUTT DIALED ME AGAIN AND I HEARD EVERYTHING.”

You buried yourself deeper in the hoodie. “I’m never showing my face again.”

Erik sat up and stretched,like a cat who just knocked everything off your emotional shelf.

“You sure you’re gonna be able to walk?”

You glared at him. “If I limp, I’m telling everyone you punched me.”

“You screamed my name loud enough, babe. No one’s gonna believe that.”

You threw a boot at his head.

You eventually emerged wearing his hoodie (because yours had mysteriously vanished), his hickeys, and the haunting realization that your knees were still shaking.

Julia handed you a donut and a coffee with a grin.

“You got railed so hard the rats left the campsite out of respect.”

Erik, unbothered and half-dressed, just sipped his Gatorade like a post-sex Olympic gold medalist.

Brad and TikTok Barbie walked past at the worst possible moment.

You locked eyes with your ex.

Erik stood, walked over, and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind like he had every right to. And he did.

“Morning, Brad,” he said cheerfully. “Peach couldn’t walk this morning. I take full responsibility.”

You blinked.

Barbie gasped.

Brad’s jaw clenched so hard it could’ve snapped.

Julia whispered, “Ten outta ten. Emmy-worthy.”

You turned, grabbed Erik by the shirt, and pulled him down for a kiss that was all tongue, bite, and I dare you to look away.

When you pulled back, Erik looked dazed.

“I’m keeping you,” he muttered.

“You better,” you whispered, voice low.

Brad stormed off.

Julia did a backflip emotionally.

And you? You leaned into Erik, bruised and aching and alive in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

“Same tent tonight?” he asked, voice in your ear, already smug again.

You grinned.

“Only if you promise to break me again.”

[taeyongdoyoung]

cherry

summary: you are looking for danger to distract you from your dark thoughts but you find something you weren't even hoping for... pairing: seungcheol x reader genre: strangers to lovers, smut warnings: stranger danger, mentions of alcohol, spiked drink (not by cheol !), lying, swearing, non-consensual touching, bar setting, morally grey characters, unsafe drinking practices, danger/risk kink, threatening, brat!reader/brat tamer!cheol, kissing, unprotected car sex, pet names, attachment/abandonment issues, lowkey angst with a happy ending, roleplaying as strangers author's note: okay so...my initial idea was a fun night out with cherry-flavoured kisses but i got carried away and delved more into the realm of troubled psychology, proceed with caution & please stay safe out there! 🍒 word count: 2.3k playlist

Seungcheol watches the situation from afar, somewhat concerned for a total stranger. You are staring at your third cocktail for the night, absent-mindedly playing with the maraschino cherry on top of it. The guy talking to you looks sketchy from a mile away but for some reason, you keep entertaining his advances. Or rather…you feel unsafe to outright reject him?

For now, Seungcheol decides to observe only. Maybe he's making an assumption based off the guy's looks, which isn't very nice of him. Then, he notices you excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. He wonders if the alcohol is starting to affect you. Seungcheol is about to go back to his own glass whiskey when he notices something even more suspicious. He swears he sees the creepy guy putting something white in your drink! Seungcheol's grip on his glass tightens.

Everyone seems to be lost in their own business. Should he intervene? Would things escalate? Should he attack the weird guy trying to drug you? But then again, he has no proof for what he saw other than his honest word. You come back from the bathroom and Seungcheol is on the verge of approaching, when he overhears your conversation.

"I don't wanna drink more," you mumble dizzily. "I've had enough."

"Come on, don't be such a party-pooper," the creep tries to convince you.

You shake your head in disagreement and that total shithead of a man has the audacity to bring the spiked glass towards your lips in an attempt to force you to drink.

Oh, hell nah! Seungcheol can't watch this any longer and dashes in, gripping the guy's wrist mid-air, causing the drink to spill.

"The lady said no," he hisses.

"Yah, why are you butting in our business? I know what my girlfriend wants," the beast grunts.

"I'm not your girlfriend," you say in a slightly louder, more confident voice.

"Pfft, babe, don't be like that," the guy loops an arm around your neck, but even in your drunken state, you attempt to get him off you.

"We literally met tonight. Leave me alone already," you reply, obviously emboldened by Seungcheol's presence.

"You heard what she said," Seungcheol insists. "Leave her the fuck alone."

His fiery gaze seems powerful enough to burn holes in the wicked guy's soul. Wanting to avoid a physical confrontation, the creep finally gives up and leaves the bar.

You breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for your help," you mumble nervously. "I was trying to get rid of him all night."

"He spiked your drink," Seungcheol informs you suddenly. "I probably wouldn't have intervened otherwise."

"Shit…" you drawl but you don't look particularly worried about that discovery.

"Why did you drink alone if you didn't want attention? And why did you leave your drink unsupervised?" Seungcheol can't resist asking all these questions.

"Apparently, it wasn't unsupervised, if you were watching," you respond only to the second inquiry.

"You shouldn't do that. It's…dangerous. What if I hadn't seen it? Do you have any idea what might have happened if I wasn't here on this particular night and if I hadn't decided to step in?" Seungcheol is starting to get angry.

"Do you want a reward or something?" you scoff sarcastically. "You don't know me. Maybe I was looking for danger."

Oh, you were like that. Self-destructive tendencies. A bit of a brat. Nothing he hasn't seen before. And yet…

"There are better ways to feel an adrenaline rush," Seungcheol explains patiently.

"Do you want me to buy you a drink?" you ask out of nowhere. "Will that get you to stop fucking lecturing me?"

Ouch. Nobody speaks to him that way. Ever. Nobody who knows him anyway…

"I can afford my own drink, thank you very much," Seungcheol rolls his eyes. "But no more drinks for you."

He doesn't know what possesses him to do that but he grabs your wrist and leads the way towards the door. He usually isn't like that but your ungrateful behaviour is so frustrating he feels the overpowering urge to teach you a lesson.

"What are you doing?" you whisper in a small voice, as he opens the door to his car and pushes you inside, locking the door. What the fuck?!

"Showing you what happens when you drink alone and leave your drink out of sight," Seungcheol growls.

"W-what?" you mumble and the actual fear in your eyes stuns him.

"Are you scared?" he laughs maniacally and leans in, facing you from up close. "Imagine what might have happened if you actually got drugged by that guy. Imagine if-"

"P-please, s-stop, I g-get it," you cry out, eyes tearing up in terror.

Seungcheol realizes his point was driven home and lets go of you, unlocking the car door.

"Get out of here," he orders.

You blink in shock and drunkenly stumble out of his car. No goodbyes are exchanged. The encounter so unusual, intense and emotionally charged that a goodbye would only mar it with its trifling nature.

A couple of nights pass and Seungcheol can't bring himself to go to his favourite bar. What was once a relaxing activity after a long day at work now seems like it would be a stressful ordeal. What if he sees you again? Drinking alone, purposefully putting yourself in danger?

He tries to convince himself that it doesn't matter. You're just a stranger he'd probably never cross paths with again. And yet…his curiosity gets the better of him.

Seungcheol returns to his favourite bar. Dreading (or perhaps hoping) that he'd find you there. And just like that, as if his thoughts manifested your appearance, he sees you.

Only this time, you are not alone, but with a girl friend who seems very happy to be spending time with you. Another major change is that you are gripping your drink tightly, not letting it out of sight. Good. Even though you're with a friend, it looks as if you learned your lesson from that bittersweet night.

Seungcheol wonders if he should approach you. Despite the fact that his intentions were noble, his behaviour back in his car was near abominable. He decides against ruining your fun night with your friend and tries to focus on his own drink, slowly sipping from it.

However, you seem to have a different plan.

"Long time no see," you greet him, as if he's an old friend and not a complete stranger. "You haven't been here recently."

"I didn't want to catch you getting yourself into trouble again," Seungcheol reminds you.

"I've been good," you promise, but for some reason he can't fully believe you. "And besides, what does it matter to you? We don't even know each other's names."

Are you asking for his name, then?

"Seungcheol," he introduces himself calmly. "I would say it's nice to meet you but I don't lie."

"Harsh," you chuckle. "I'm Y/N. I love lying, so…nice to meet you."

"Where did your friend go?" Seungcheol suddenly notices, not paying attention to your little jab.

"She went home to her boyfriend."

"So, you're drinking alone again?" he points out.

"I'm here with you, aren't I? So, I'm not alone," you explain logically.

"You don't even know me," Seungcheol shakes his head, as if to convince you that he's not trustworthy enough.

"I know your name, though. Doesn't that count for something?" you tilt your head to the side, taking a bold sip of your cherry-flavoured cocktail.

"You haven't changed," he groans bitterly. "You're just pretending to be more responsible to grab my attention."

"I thought I already had your attention," you grin flirtatiously.

"You do," Seungcheol admits reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean I'll act on it."

"What if I want you to?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"You're insane, you know that?" he laughs.

"Aren't we all?"

And Seungcheol loses every last ounce of self-control he prided himself in usually possessing. He kisses you savagely, conquering your mouth with his own. The need to have you, to wipe that bratty smile off your face is overpowering.

You kiss him back just as eagerly, ravaging his lips.

"Let's get out of here," he suggests. Only this time, the words carry a different meaning from when he kicked you out.

Seungcheol leads you to his car again, too impatient to bother with finding hotels. It's so dark outside and he's parked at a place so empty and hidden that it gives you goosebumps. Not a soul in sight.

Perhaps, he is right. Perhaps, you are acting up, no self-preservation instinct in your body. But who cares? You've spent too long not feeling anything. This is the first time in a long while you've felt something so real.

There is no tenderness in the way he fucks you on the backseat of his car. It's as if Seungcheol makes it his mission to corrupt you even further, satisfying your reckless need for adrenaline.

"You're so sick, letting a stranger do this to you," Seungcheol grunts in your ear, as he rubs your pussy.

"You're not a stranger," you stand your ground, fully convinced this is normal behaviour.

"Knowing my name doesn't make this any better," his words are drowning in anger, but his actions are overflowing with the desire to pleasure you.

"What does this say about you, though?" you fight back verbally. "You're just as irresponsible as me."

"I. Need. To. Teach. You. A. Lesson," he punctuates with each thrust.

"Too bad I'm terrible at learning," you confess, scratching his back with your sharp nails.

"Say my name," Seungcheol demands.

"Seungcheol," you mumble obediently.

"Again."

"Seungcheol. Cheol. Seungcheol-ah," you repeat mindlessly.

"Good girl," he whispers.

"No, I'm not," you argue, biting his neck, while he's still fucking you viciously.

"I'll make you," Seungcheol promises and you are stunned by the assuredness in his deep voice.

"I'd like to see you t-" you fall apart beneath him before you can finish the word "try".

He truly ruins you so deliciously, making you forget everything that ever bothered you.

The only thing that remains in your mouth is the taste of whiskey mixed with the flavour of cherries.

Your first instinct is to run away. Every time you meet someone decent, you do that. Because if you don't, they'll leave you first. And you'd never let that happen again.

You start to put on your clothes hurriedly, attempting to flee the scene.

"Chérie..." Seungcheol pleads tenderly.

Fingers on the car handle, you hesitate upon hearing the gentle French endearment.

"What?" you ask despite yourself.

"Where are you going?"

"Doesn't matter. Did you think I'd stay?" at this point, being mean is a defense mechanism. Looking for danger, finding it and then running away.

Only Seungcheol is more dangerous than danger itself. Because you can see in his eyes that he cares.

A total stranger, you don't even know if you have anything in common. And yet...he cared enough to intervene that night. He cared enough to discipline you. He cared enough to give you just what you need.

But you are so afraid. That he'll start to care too much. And one day, he'll stop.

"I'm not done with you," Seungcheol stands firm, gripping your wrist. "I told you I'll make a good girl out of you, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," you confirm weakly. Too weak to fight him on it. Too weak to escape...

"Well, I'm a man of my word."

"And if I want to go?" you still try.

"You don't," Seungcheol pronounces with certainty.

"How do you know what I want?"

"Because we want the same thing."

He doesn't say what that is. But he's right.

You bury your head in his chest, allowing him to hold you tightly.

Somehow, this turns out to be not just what you wanted. But what you needed.

"I'll take care of you," Seungcheol vows. "I'll be so good to you."

And for some reason, you believe him.

You let him consume your darkness with his own. And bring your shared light to the surface.

Bonus:

~ A year later ~

That same bar where you met. A cocktail in hand. Your red dress. The dim lights.

"What's a bad girl like you doing in a nice place like this?" Seungcheol teases you, pretending to be a stranger.

Oh, how times change.

"Looking for love," you joke, as you slide the maraschino cherry into your mouth.

"You seem like the kind of woman who already has that," Seungcheol reminds you of the reality of your relationship.

"And how would you know what kind of woman I am?" you play along, enjoying this game far too much.

"Because of the ring on your finger," he points out.

Oh, right! You never take it off. You completely forgot how about you'd explain it in such a scenario.

"Careful, there. My fiancé is a very jealous man," you poke fun at Seungcheol.

"Is he, now?" your fiancé leans in. "What would he do if I did that?"

Seungcheol kisses you warmly but possessively. What starts as innocent turns more heated and passionate. Never before have you felt so safe and wanted.

"He'd probably kill you," you shake your head, gasping for air. "Lucky for you, you're him."

"I must be the luckiest man in the world," Seungcheol announces proudly.

"Not really," you jest. "Your fiancée is a bit of a brat."

"A bit?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe a lot. But she loves you very much," you admit honestly.

"Then, it's a good thing I love her, too," Seungcheol hugs you strongly.

You don't get the urge to run away anymore. Because this? This is better than any adrenaline rush.

"Watch me dance," you request mischievously.

"Oh, I will," he promises.

Seungcheol watches you at a close distance. Always concerned. Only this time, you're not a stranger. You're dancing freely, feeling protected from danger. Not keeping an eye on your drink. It's okay. He's here now to keep you out of harm's way. You allowed him to use his darkness to devour yours. But there is light, in this world, too. And light will always prevail.

The End

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Third Party

Fandom: The Pitt - Undeserving Universe

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x F!Reader

As requested by @ahopelessromanticwritersworld : I would love every word of the pregnancy journey with Jack being there for her every single step of the way!!!!!

Warning: brief description of labor

Undeserving | Star A New (Final) | The Pitt Masterlist

You were fast tracked into the ER when Cassie saw you in the waiting room. Jack came out and collected you himself when Cassie told him you were out there.

He pulled you into a room, shutting the door behind him, "What's going on? Why didn't you call me?" concern and worry was written all over his face.

You point at him, "That's why. You always look at me like that and I hate it. Like I'm gonna break or something."

Jack sighs and runs a hand down his face, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be...overbearing. I promised I'd look out for you. So what's going on?"

You shrug, "I've just been feeling sick and nauseous for the past few days. Can't keep a meal down. Keep throwing up. Think it's a stomach bug."

"Maybe, but, um" he clears his throat, "...don't get upset when I ask this...when was your last period?"

You freeze and try to think back if you've had your period this month, "Fuck."

Jack holds his hands out, "Hey, don't worry. It's okay. I'm gonna send you up stairs to the OB/GYN. They'll take care of you."

Panic and anxiety settles in you and you look at Jack with wide eyes, "What if-What if I am-Jack, I don't know how I'm gonna do this-"

He pulls you into his arms and holds you against his chest, "Ssshh. Ssshh. It's okay. I got you. I got you."

___________________________

You sat in a room in the OBGYN department. Your leg is bouncing and Jack is pacing the room.

Doctor Carmichael enters the room, "Congratulations. You're indeed pregnant."

You break out into a sob and Jack immediately rushes to your side. He gives Doctor Carmichael a nod, "Thanks, Lucy."

She nods, "Of course. Let me know if there's anything else I can do." She sees herself out, giving you and Jack some space.

You pull away, eyes red and watery, "What am I going to do?"

"Do you want to keep it?"

You nod, "I do. This baby is part Andrew. I can't-I won't lose more of him...but I don't know how to be a parent. Let alone a single one. I'll be alone."

Jack shakes his head, "No, you won't. You have me, remember? I'll be there. Every appointment, when your sickness is bad, even if you get weird late night cravings. I'll be there. I'm not letting you deal with this alone, Y/N."

You sob into his chest even more, "Thank you, Jack. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're going to be okay."

_________________________________

You break down when you see them and hear the heartbeat. Your little blob of a baby on the screen. Seeing them now, it's become more real. You're pregnant. You're going to be a mom and...Andrew won't be there for them.

You stay at Jack's that night, staring at the picture.

He knocks on the threshold of his guest room, "Hey, food's done."

You sniffle and wipe at your nose and eyes, "I'll eat in a bit."

You hear him sigh and enter the room. He sits beside you on the bed, "You need to make sure you eat and drink lots of water. You gotta stay healthy for your baby."

"i know," you mumble and look at him, "What's for dinner? Chicken alfredo." He stands and offers his hand out to you. You take it with a stand and let him guide you to the dining room.

The table's already set, so all you have to do is sit down. Jack pulls out the chair for you and pushes it back in when you lower yourself. He sits across from you and waits as you take your first bite.

You softly smile at him, "It's good."

He nods in appreciation, "Good," and simply replies before digging into his own plate.

_________________________

You're laying on the bed with gel spread all over your stomach. Jack is sitting at your side, his back is straight and hands on his thighs. His demeanor is intimidating but his presence brings you comfort.

"Heartbeat is still strong and...you want to know the sex, correct?"

"Yes, please," you say with a nod.

Dr. Carmichael smiles, "A baby girl."

You break out into a smile, "A girl?"

"Yup. A girl. Would you like print outs?"

"Please."

"Alright. Let me clean you up here," she takes a towel and wipes off the gel and the ultrasound wand, "Okay. I'll get you those prints and then we'll schedule your next appointment."

"Thank you, Doctor," you grin at her and sit up when she exits the room.

You gently rub your belly, "A girl. Andrew wanted a girl."

"Did you guys ever go over names?" he stands and holds out his hand, helping you off the bed.

"He really liked the name Evelyn, mostly because the nickname Evie, was like the pokemon."

Jack snorts, "God, he was such a nerd."

You chuckle sadly, "Yeah, he was." You hug your stomach and a solemn look appears on your face.

"He'd be overjoyed that you're having a girl. He always seemed like he'd be a girl dad."

"Yeah. He said it was because he grew up with brothers."

Jack opens his mouth to reply but Dr. Carmichael steps back in, "Here you go. I printed out three copies for you." She hands you the papers and you smile at them, "Thank you." You take one of the pictures and hand them to Jack, "For your collection."

"Thanks," he replies with a twitch of a smile. He tunes you and Dr. Carmichael out as you schedule your next appointment with her.

His fingers graze over the ultrasound and he makes a silent promise, 'I got them, Drew. Don't worry. I got them.'

____________________________

Jack is working when you go into labor. You managed to drive yourself to the hospital and get to the OBGYN floor.

"Get Jack! Please! He's working downstairs!" You grit through the pain of another contraction. Dr. Myers, the OB doctor on your case, nods and sends down a nurse to get Jack.

"Doctor Abbot!" The nurse runs up to him, "Your wife's in labor!"

Jack doesn't even bother to correct her before he's throwing off his gloves and rushing out of the ER.

When he arrives, you're already pushing. He speeds to your side, your hand gripping his.

"You got this, Y/N. You got this."

You shake your head with a cry, "I can't. I can't."

"Yes, you can. You hear me? You can do this! You're gonna be a great mom, okay? First, you gotta push, okay?"

You groan in pain as you push as much as you can. You breathe and you push. Breathe and push. Again and again until you hear your little girl give out her first cry.

You collapse into the bed, a sheen of sweat on your face. You tiredly peer up at Jack and he's a little teary eyed, "She's beautiful."

The nurses clean her up before handing her to you. Wrapped in a pink blanket, you're given your daughter.

"Oh my...hey, sweetheart. I'm your mommy," you press a kiss to her little head, "My sweet, Evelyn."

You look up at Jack again, his eyes red and watery, "You did good, Y/N."

You grab a hold of his hand, "Thank you, Jack."

He sniffles and wipes his eyes, "I'll give you two some space."

Your brows furrow, "You're leaving?"

"I'll be back. I left so abruptly. Need to let everyone downstairs know that my niece arrived."

You nod, "Okay. Tell everyone I said 'hi'."

Jack takes one more look at you and Evelyn then exits the room to head back to the pitt.

[rinsnumber1fan]

Sae itoshi x reader

[Reader is sae's manager][nsfw content ahead!]

he can't control himself but he has to.

When you two get into a stupid fight and haven't been talking but one particular night he takes things rather personally.

You and Sae were closer than just manager and player, you were like friends. You'd tease him constantly and he'd pretend not to see you. Still he was better than most men you'd been friends with before.

Today was.. however a bit different. You and Sae got into a stupid childish fight about how you threw a pillow over his face to get his attention when he was ignoring you and then he crashed out on you.

You knew you shouldn't have!! But ugh, its not like he hasn't hit you with a pillow before!

Glancing at the time which hit 12:45AM You arrange your stuff in your office which ego designed specifically for you to do your work properly. The door that was closed had a familiar knock placed over it the sound echoing in a distance.

"You can come in!!"

You said as you tried to arrange the things on the top shelve and tried to get out a certain file.

The man had entered your room and placed some thing you considered to be a register down on your table without saying anything. You hummed in acknowledgement, "jus' keep it right there! I'll keep it in a min-"

the file you so desperately tried to reach at the top of the shelve was now being accompanied by saes hand, slowly drifting the file down the shelf was when you realized just how close he was to you.

Your back pressed against his chest, his hand right above your head like he was pinning you.

You quickly look back only to regret how close he was to you, "your file." He said in a voice which would be his usual voice but it wasn't. It was deeper, raspier.

His eyes were locked onto you like he was trying to focus on something else but he kept being drifted back on you.

You froze for a moment, "..thanks.." you replied shortly, but he didn't move.

Just stayed there not moving an inch.

His eyes half lidded as he looked down at you, unable to stop himself from leaning his head lower and lower. He wasn't even doing it himself it was like a.. magnetic pull.

"You know," sae started, breaking the silence.

You looked back up at him, he seemed to be,

Undressing you with his eyes.

Half-lidded trailing over and under your body, your lips, just thinking about how how you'd look if he could do all sorts of things to you in this office right here over the desk.

But he had to stop himself...

He tried to.

He gulped lowly, "you're too naive."

You blinked twice at his words, you expected 'can I kiss you?' Or something romantic after all that tension but he just insults you?!

"Naive? Please, you're still mad at me for-" the words caught in your throat are lost as thoughts only when he pushes you back against the shelf and pins your hand over your head making you feel unbearably exposed.

"You'd just let any guy in your office after midnight, hm?" He asked like he was mocking you.

"You really are naive." He fought back a smirk.

You scoffed, not making any effort to push his hand away from your wrist because you liked how it felt and shot back, "but I know you're not that kind of guy!"

You sounded so sure of yourself.

"Really?" He stepped closer and closer and suddenly friend didn't seem to good of a title to describe whatever this was. "You trust me, that much?"

He asked leaning closer and closer. Your heart races, you want this its all over your face and body. The way you look up at him so longingly and then he pulls back

He pulls back.

Putting his hands away, "im sorry." He said before turning around and going to rhe door to avoid you for the rest of his life but you grab his wrist, "dont be sorry!" You frowned but a rosy pink blush appeared on your cheeks as he turned back to see you. "....huh?" He deadpannned.

"I'm...I.. uhh.." you stammered having nothing to back it up.

"Nevermind! g-good-bye!!" And you slammed the door shut after throwing him out.

He might not avoid you after all.

I wrote this half asleep pls send help if anything seems stupid or wrong and also pls don't be mad there's no real smut because we'll he's supposed to control his urges and I thought it's hot when he's kinda holding back and shiii type shi 🤑🤑🤑🤑

[brownblob]

He's A Monster

Jim Walters x GN!Reader

Summary: There's nothing wrong with you, you know it. No, you're not crazy. Then why does it seem like it? You're just paranoid, too distrustful of him who only has generosity in his heart and your best interest in mind. Even when his icy eyes linger where they shouldn't.

TW: Suggestive, creepy Jim, yandere, paranoia, angst(ish), mentions of blood, swearing

You swear there's nothing wrong with you. You're not going crazy, no, you're perfectly sane. You just keep having nightmares where something lurks in the void, wanting you as it's sacrifice. You tell Jim, you're not safe. Something's not right. He needs to listen at the warning, he said it himself beforehand "Sometimes though...I think dreams are doors" "You oughta be careful...what you invite in". So why doesn't he just agree and do the same as before, does he enjoy this? Your panic-stricken expression as you try and convince him that you're not safe. There's something out to get you, you even feel it on your skin at night as if you're not only being watched but devoured. You reassure him, you're not crazy. In hindsight you seem as anything but. "But dreams can just be dreams. Not real. You're safe here. It's safe here. He replies back, the southern drawl in his voice stretching, brow arched in frustration at your constant rebuttal. He sighs before bringing you breakfast, body leaning down behind you - caging you in. The scent of pinewood and musk engulfing you whole. Just as quickly the scent of iron hits your nose as you spot the blackberry preserve on your plate. It's completely normal, nothing wrong with it. But why does it taste metallic in your mouth then? The red seeping through the black hues of the jam. It's almost crimson and thick, as if...no. No that would be sick.

It's odd how he never takes any, heaping more onto your plate - feeling your pulse right after. There's something so wrong and you can feel it in the way he stares at you. Icy eyes stripping you down to nothing but the shell of yourself - predator and prey, like a game of cat and mouse. Biting his lips when he gets anxious, scared that he's going to get caught staring. He always does. At least, that's what you think - that you'll catch him in time. The sticky sweet stays on your plate making you rethink but you eat it anyways. The fork in your hand gently scooping up the portions one by one and into your mouth, on your tongue. He stares at it, not so subtly. Never subtly. His face heats up and his knee bounces up and down, up and down, again and again. His hand, now off your pulse, moving upwards to hold your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours. He shifts closer too, his eyes settled on you as if daring you to move, convinced you wouldn't anymore. And move you do. His mood visibly sours after that, brows furrowing as he looks at you like a kicked puppy. Fucking manipulator, making you feel so bad for being mean. Making feel so horrible for just wanting your space, to not be looked at like a piece of meat. He gets up after a while, taking away your dishes to the sink, eyes still on the fork that was just in your mouth as he grins softly. Repulsive.

"Here...hope you like it." He brings you a warm beverage afterwords, pushing it towards you gently as if ushering you to drink. His own mug sitting in front of him untouched. You don't wanna drink what he's put in front of you, the steaming beverage making you nauseous. You swear theres something in the drink, there can't not be. It's either here or in the food. Last time you complained he'd angrily gulped the contents down, proving you wrong and shutting you up. Seeing your discomfort he takes a sip of his own drink, his eyes shifting down as if to ease you. It works. You slowly pick the mug up before sipping the drink; the heat burning your tongue as you yelp. "Too hot?" He asks with a gentle smile before you nod as he looks away into the distance. And he suddenly seems so beautiful, a blush betraying you as you continue to look at him. Fuck. Blonde hair pooling around him in silky strands and tired eyes that droop downwards in a beautiful shade of blue. Pale skin too, that stands out against his rosy cheeks and his lips chapped yet so inviting. They must be warm too. Why do you feel this way for someone so vile. Yeah, you're delusional, he wouldn't mix something in your drink. Why would he? The pounding in your head must be a coincidence. And then you're second guessing yourself again and again. Is he really that bad? When he's been nothing but sweet to you? When he's done nothing wrong and for all you know, everything is just your overactive imagination. But the fear within you only grows, the distrust visible in your eyes.

The worst part is that you can't even accuse him of anything. He's been all gracious and welcoming after all, albeit in his own awkward manner. Letting you stay in his home, eating his food, sleeping in his extra room, warming up next to his fireplace. His. You're indebted to him and yet you still don't trust him. He who's protecting you from what's out there; the snow of course.

The weather so terrifying that could drive you off-course and injure you so badly that you'll bleed to death in the numbing cold. The freezing temperature, something your fragile body isn't accustomed to. Still it's hard to trust him, especially when his gaze lingers in places you know he shouldn't be staring at. When his hands brush yours just a little too long and when his breath hits the back of your nape as you shudder at the looming stranger behind you. But then again, you're judging him based off how he comes off - how shallow of you. It's not his fault that he isn't used to social cues and that he's a little shy. No, you're just being unappreciative. Maybe he doesn't know what he's doing. But he does, he a grown fucking man.

And if you dislike it so much then you should just leave. Why haven't you? You tried, really you did. Run away and discard yourself off this place and go as far as you could.

The first day he came in, knocking on hsi own door and dressed in black. The snow gear that obscured your vision alongside the way his eyes kept you in place. You didn't know him and nor did you want to. Not wanting to be indebt to him, and you should have done so in the beginning, you were about to leave. Stupid of you to come back inside on the first day, listening to his ragged words that persuaded you to come back into the warmth of his home when you got inside your car. "It's dangerous...you won't survive a minute" You stepped back inside, shivering. Easy. You shouldn't have. You should've drove off in your car, no matter the weather, when you had the chance. Now you can't even do that. The snow's piled up so high that you can't even see your car and you're damn sure the battery life had deteriorated by a mile. You're stuck with him, right where he wants you.

It's silly how he doesn't even have to actively entrap you, no, the climate does it for him. Not that he's completely clean, he'd do exactly that if he had to. Thankfully for him, the weather itself It cages you with him, trapping you like he does those rabbits in spring. Though he really doesn't want to scare you, unfortunately he doesn't know how to act. Not when you sit there so pretty and quiet, saccharine and sweet, skittish and scampering. He can't help but fumble his words then come off as deadpan to shut off any thoughts you may have about him as a creep. No, he doesn't care at all, let's keep you thinking that.

And then there you are, only seeing him as a threat when his mask slips, not even in the manner you should. The worst you think he'll do is poison you like some crazy lunatic or kill you, no he'd never. Not when he's so entranced with you. Not when the worse he can do is so much more revolting. Disgusting.

The necklace a reminder that you're in his domain. It's a beautiful delicate thing. Carved thinly with would that would splinter at the slightest pressure. A small rabbit tied to a leather chain. But then again, it's more similar to a leash than a necklace. It's a collar really. Makes you feel domesticated. It feels wrong. Yet the shy smile he had as he tied it to your neck, the blush on his cheeks. He was just so lovable and the gift around your neck so thoughtful. You should just stop being so pessimistic.

.

.

. You're going crazy aren't you? First the beast in your dreams, calling out to you and demanding you present yourself on an altar, and now icy eyes? No, he's a good person, Jim is the host who kindly took you in. He could've kicked you out - for all he knew, you were the threat as you showed up in his home with who knows what in mind. Or he could've been pure evil, letting you freeze to death. Yet he didn't. He gave you a warm bed and food too and everything else, merely asking for a little company in return.

Then why does it make you so uneasy? The fear that he's the one peeking through that door at night, heavy breathing as he watches you toss and turn in bed. No, you're going crazy. Insane. You must've left the door ajar, and those eyes must be a trick of the light. Then what about the hot breath on your collar? It's those dreams. The beast appearing again and again, making you believe that there's someone in your bed. Someone on top of you, pinning you down like a butterfly as they take you in with their eyes. If only you knew that the beast wasn't an illusion but the reality of Jim.

He's a monster, a motherfucking monster.

Note: I just had to write more about this GORGEOUS AMAZING BEAUTIFUL MAN RAHHHH. Ugh he's been on my mind 24/7 and I'm literally working on like 3 more fics about him. He deserves so much love and I love the complexity he has ughghghghgh. Again THANK YOU to the WONDERFUL author/creator @hereisremina of this game for giving us THIS MASTERPIECE to leech off (I'M SORRY I'M WRITING SO MUCH ABOUT HIM I JUST HAVE TOOOOOOOOO).

Note 2: So like I said before, I definitely am moving on from my usual content into more darker(?) content. And even if it's not "darker" it's certainly has heavy implications and is much different to what I usually write.

Note 3: Inspo from the song "Monster" by Dev.

Note 4: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

[gayzegras]

well. god. imagine you actually decided okay. well it's been some time since the trade and maybe we were a little codependent and he's got a girlfriend now so maybe i should try to move forward. for real this time. and so you text him less and less, or maybe just as much because he doesn't let you pull away that easy, but your answers get more shallow. you don't tell him what's real and raw in your life anymore. and maybe you get a girlfriend and you post about her even though you don't post much at all. you want people to know you're moving forward. you're past confessing quiet truths in spotify playlists, you're bigger than that now. and then, right when you feel like you're finally past. whatever that was. when you feel like you're your own person, independent from him, he's thrust back in your life. it's your territory, you have the upper hand for once, but you can't help but feel knocked off balance. because soon, he will be here, worming his way into your own relationships with the team, flashing white teeth and winning them over. and you know some of the guys, hell, most of the guys are going to be hard asses about it. get annoyed, try to fight it, then melt suddenly and without warning. just like you did. and you know he is going to feel the rejection in his bones, fight it tooth and nail until it lets up. and you brace yourself for the night you know he will let himself into your home, and sit on your couch, and roll his head along the cushions until he's looking up at you. you're going to have to be strong. keep your hands interlaced in your own lap. keep your eyes straight forward, watching the tv. and you also know he's going to whisper "jimmy...hey" into the space between you, get you to flicker your eyes down to his. you know they will be sparkling, even in the low light, and you know you will throw everything you've built here right out the window, and you will lean down and kiss him and ignore the twist in your gut and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. and in the morning, when he makes you coffee just the way you like it (of course he remembers) and speaks to you gently, with no expectation for you to reply this early (of course he remembers,) you will remember how much it hurt to lose him. and you will sink back into his orbit, willingly.

[pt2change]

landing softly — kim taehyung

pairing: singledad!taehyung x reader

genre: takes place months after, nari loves y/n, tae being vulnerable for a sec, they’re already a family without knowing it :’)

word count: 1,914

a/n: the long awaited part 2 hahah i’m sorry it took so long!!!! i hope it does it justice i woke up in the middle of the night to finish this instead of going back to bed and letting it collect even more dust

↣ bts masterlist

or read part 1 here

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

it had been a couple of months since you met taehyung and nari on the flight.

you and taehyung had exchanged phone numbers at the airport once the flight reached its destination.

you thought nothing of it really, at first the whole situation was just a funny story you would tell your friends.

but then he texted you one day, it was a picture of nari with the plushie she had tried giving to you on that flight, she wants to let you borrow it again, the text read

from that moment, it turned into weekly texts, spontaneous park meetups, and exchanged voice memos about awful work days. then there were “nari wants to see you and say hi” facetime calls that turned into long conversations that would continue deep into the night after nari would run away after about 3 minutes.

somewhere in between, there was having dinner together, the 3 of you. it had become its own tradition.

tonight was dinner at taehyung’s place. sometimes you cooked, and sometimes taehyung did. sometimes it was just “i accidentally ordered too much take out, why don't you come over?”

you knocked on the door three times, and from the other side you hear rapid tiny footsteps running across the hardwood floor, “nari! slow down” you could hear taehyung call out to his daughter from the other side of the door.

the door swings wide up, and nari smiles up at you, already wearing her pink pajama set that you had given to her the last time you saw her.

the smell of cleaning products hits your nose suddenly. it makes sense, after all taehyung had spent the entire day cleaning, he scrubbed every inch down, the counters on the kitchen, the bathroom shined bright, and taehyung vacuumed as much as he could.

nari was only tasked with picking up her toys (which did not get done)

“y/n!” nari exclaims, wrapping her arms around your legs. . “hey, nari,” you place your hands on her tiny back to keep her steady, “oh, i brought that chocolate cake you guys like”

nari yells in excitement, “you need to have dinner first, nari” taehyung says, walking over, and he gives you a quick hug, before taking the cake out of your hands.

you walk in further into taehyung's all too familiar apartment, and start removing your purse and shoes, putting them in their designated places. nari stays close to you, talking about a new show she has started watching.

as you remove your shoes, her little hands grab them and place them onto the shoe rack.

back when you all first started sharing meals, there was a moment of concern from nari because there was no space for your shoes on the shoe rack or that there wasn't a place for you to put your purse. so taehyung and nari spent one afternoon together clearing out the rack, making enough space for your belongings.

“come on, i want you to play with me!” nari says, holding onto your hand, tugging you towards her small bedroom. as you let nari drag you to her bedroom, you pass taehyung and mouth to him a quick “sorry”

when time passes by, taehyung begins to set the table, plates and silverware clinking together, filling the apartment with noise. taehyung hears nari talking and your funny responses get closer to the kitchen as your footsteps fill the small hallway.

“let’s help your dad set up, huh?” he hears you say, to which nari replies a quick “okay”

“ooo, it smells good in here” you think out loud, taehyung faces you to see you holding nari’s hand in one and a pink bunny plushie, one of nari’s favorites, in the other. taehyung can't help but notice how you grab it with such delicacy, both nari’s small hand and her bunny. it’s a sight that makes him smile.

nari then makes her way over to the table, sitting in the chair, placing her doll on the table. “it’s spaghetti,” taehyung says, beginning to serve in a small hello kitty bowl, “i also made garlic bread.”

you grab the served bowl from taehyung, placing a small fork in it, and place it in front of nari.

it’s a routine, taehyung finishes serving your plates and you place them both on the table, both of you at nari’s sides. taehyung grabs the basket of garlic bread and places it in the middle. you grab 2 wine glasses and a green cup with frogs on it, taehyung grab the wine and apple juice from the fridge.

you both sit down, and the 3 of you start eating. the conversation flows great, it’s easy and full of laughter, as it always does. you talked about the different things you have done since the last time you saw each other, work, nari’s current obsession with her barbie playhouse, what she’s learned at school. after dinner, you bring out the chocolate cake, watching nari’s eyes sparkle. you cut each of them, and yourself, a slice.

the conversation continues, and you stay at the table, enjoying each others company.

eventually, nari starts to nod off in her chair. everytime taehyung says something, she sits right back up, saying she’s not sleepy at all. after about the 5th time, taehyung goes around and lifts her out of the chair, lifting her into his arms.

“it’s time for bed” he says, rubbing her back softly. “i don’t want to” she mumbles into his shoulder, yawning seconds later. taehyung pats her back softly, “you can see y/n another day”

you get up from your chair, placing your hand on the small of nari’s back, “let’s get you to bed nari” you whisper.

taehyung turns his head slightly over his shoulder, “you want to help?”

you nod in response, in a way that says “of course i want to help,” and you follow him down the hallway into nari’s bedroom. she’s already half asleep when he lays her down, her small body falling against the sheets and pillows.

you move quickly to her side, pulling her blanket and tucking her in gently. “i’ll come see you again soon, okay nari?” you whisper, and her eyes open just slightly, she nods. just before you walk away, you hear her voice, “y/n?”

you get down to her eye level, “yeah?” you feel her tiny hand reach out to yours, she squeezes it slightly. “i wish you could stay” her voice is soft and serious.

your heart flutters, “s-stay?”

nari nods softly, “like stay forever” she responds, just barely above a whisper, “i wish you lived her…. or we lived with you” her words slowed as her eyes fluttered “i like you alot, y/n” she mumbles.

you brush her hair back, “i like you alot too nari” you whisper. and nari falls back into her sleep, her soft breathing fills the room.

all the while taehyung watched stood at the door, watching in silence. his stomach fills with anxiety.

it’s been him and nari for so long, and now you’re here. you stole nari’s heart, and in a way you stole his too. but he knows you, he knows you have a future full of opportunities. you don't need someone like him infiltrating your life and taking it all away.

you leave nari’s bedside, and walk over to taehyung, placing your hand on his bicep, giving it a light squeeze before walking back over to the kitchen. taehyung takes a deep breath, before shutting nari’s door.

taehyung walks towards kitchen, seeing you stack the plates together and walking over to place them in the sink. “don’t worry about it, y/n”

“it’s okay, i’ll help”

“y/n,” taehyung follows you helplessly, “it’s okay really.”

you start the water, “it’s the least i can do since you cooked for us tonight.”

he stands next to you, your shoulders bumping slightly, “you wash, i’ll dry them”

taehyung grabs a washcloth and waits as you scrub the first bowl. there’s a comfortable silence that fills the air as you wash the dishes. you finish the dishes, and taehyung dries them, putting them all away where they belong.

you lean against the counter. after putting away the last dish, taehyung clears his throat, “she’s comfortable with you” he says softly.

you hand him a bowl, “i’m comfortable with her too” you reply, your voice just as soft. and there’s a silence, “and you taehyung”

you look over at him, handing him the last fork. and he’s smiling. you tilt your head slightly, “what?” you chuckle

taehyung walks closer to you, “i just never expected any of this you know?” you nod in response before he continues, “that day at the airport, i was just so tired, and i thought all i need to do is get on this flight and go home. that was gonna be it”

you nod, “but then nari tried to climb over the airplane seat” you tease

he laughed in response. his eyes lingered on you for a moment, before he looked away. “nari’s mom isn’t around” he says quietly. “she left not long after nari was born. it’s been hard, for the both of us”

you don't say anything, letting the silence sit between the two of you. “nari doesn't ask much about her.” he says, “but when she does, i don't know if im saying the right thing. i don't want her to feel like she's missing something.”

you reach your hand out to grab his, rubbing your thumb so delicately over his knuckles. “i don't think she does. she is so full of joy and curiosity. and she is so deeply loved, taehyung. that’s all you”

his eyes meet yours again, and he takes a deep breath. “she’s so lucky to have you”

in an even quieter voice, “i think i’m lucky too, to have you both in my life” you add.

taehyung’s eyes linger on you, and tension fills the air. you pull taehyung closer by dragging him by his belt loops until your noses are touching. taehyung closes the distance between you two.

you kiss him open-mouthed, the dragging of your tongues slow. your hands slip under the hem of taehyung’s shirt, training his soft skin. taehyung kisses you with more desperation, his hands cupping your face

when you break apart, you're both panting. you rest your forehead against taehyungs, as you try to catch your breath, running your hand down his back

“thanks for tonight,” you whisper, your noses brushing against each other, “it was nice”

taehyung kisses your cheek softly, “i’m glad you came”

you pull away from taehyung, regret visible on your face, “i should probably go, i have work early tomorrow” taehyung nods, and leads you to the door, grabbing your purse as you slip your shoes back on. taehyung places the bag on your shoulder, enjoying the way your cheeks blush.

“I’ll stay” you whisper, and taehyung blinks slowly. “I’ll stay if you ask me to,” you say, bolder this time, “forever, like nari said.” there’s a pause, “or for as long as you’ll have me”

he lets out a quiet breath, “i’m asking”

you can barely holding in the smile that looms across your face, “okay, then i’ll stay”

taehyung doesn’t say anything after that. he didn't have to.

he steps closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

and down the hall is a small girl who is completely unaware that her wish was coming true.

[flwrfields]

DISTANT • Y.SE

summary: si-eun started becoming distant, you started becoming confused. you confronted him one day and he couldn't hide his feelings anymore.

a/n: trying to be active on tumblr!! i'm currently making a new smau series that has some good progress. soooo, while i'm working on it, i decided to make a fic that i thought of. I'M ALSO NOT SURE ABOUT THE ENDING💔💔 BUT STILL ENJOY!!!!

warnings: fluff, kinda angst, lowercase intended, distant si-eun, mutual feelings

wc: 1013

you and si-eun are inseparable, attached by the hip ever since you two were kids. well, were inseparable. si-eun started distancing himself from you, he didn't even try to hide it.

whenever you passed him by, he'd continue walking even if you wave at him with a smile. he would keep his head down, walk as quickly as he could to avoid you from stopping him. if you approached him while he was studying at his desk, he'd stand up and act like he needed to go to the restroom.

text him? no reply.

call him? straight to voicemail.

walk up to his desk? he walks away.

you couldn't get any chance to talk to him, no matter how much you tried. all of your efforts are never answered. it felt like there was a brick wall between you and him. an unbreakable one. it only felt like it, though.

these next few days are quiet, colder... lonely. there wasn't anyone you could ramble your day to, there wasn't anyone you could bother. there wasn't anyone to keep you company. you had to admit, you missed si-eun, a lot more than you should. you know it isn't like him to distance himself. you needed answers.

you find yourself standing outside of si-eun's cram school, arms crossed as you look over the crowd of students exiting the building, looking for a specific someone. eventually, you see him — yeon si-eun. you start to move, your legs instantly taking you towards him like it's the most natural thing. he sees you, eyes widening slightly when he realizes he can't walk out of this. you stand in front of him, staring right into his eyes.

god, those pathetic eyes. the eyes that you just adore. the eyes that you can just stare at forever without getting bored. his eyes are like a void, a good void. a void that you'll gladly drown in without hesitation.

you snap out of your trance when you realize how long silence you're being. you let out a long breath, preparing yourself for the conversation.

"why are you ignoring me?" you question, tilting your head while your eyebrows furrow. you can see how si-eun's shoulders tense, as if he's been expecting this question but isn't ready to actually hear it. "i just have some things going on." he replies.

"are you sure?" "yes."

you huff, the huff being a half-laugh and half-scoff. you shake your head as you look down at the ground. "why are you lying to me?" si-eun's breath hitches, hearing the sharp tone in your voice. he knows you want to hear the truth, but he doesn't know if he should say it or not. he didn't want to ruin anything, even though he knows he might be ruining it because of the distancing. but, this is a slower process... he's afraid that he'll lose everything after you find out the truth. he's afraid he'll lose you.

"i'm sorry." si-eun suddenly states, his voice barely above a whisper. it's crazy how soft his voice went, it's unusual, it's new. still, it isn't unwelcomed. you look up at him, seeing that he's staring right at you. "i'm sorry for distancing myself." he repeats, his voice trembling from the nerves. "i'm not trying to hurt you, and i never will. but, it's for my sake, our sake. i don't wanna ruin our friendship. i... i don't wanna lose what we have."

you could've sworn time stopped, like everyone disappeared. your heart skipped a few beats, your stomach started filling up with those familiar butterflies. you never wanted to deny your feelings, but you never wanted to accept it. you didn't want to accept it because you thought si-eun would never feel the same way — but, here you are, standing in front of him, watching as he admits everything he's been bottling up for weeks.

and then, you hear it. the words you've been wanting to hear for years.

"i like you."

you couldn't believe it. you waited all these years, 12 whole years. it was worth it, so worth it. you were silent for a while, processing if everything is real or not. you wondered if this was just a dream. but, you don't remember falling asleep, so you know it's real life. seconds go by, si-eun is still waiting for you to respond. he isn't rushing you, he's patiently waiting.

then, you moved. you moved closer to him, all of your problems slowly fading away. the world slowly faded away. you didn't care. right now, si-eun is your world. you hesitantly interlace your hands together, your touch as light as a feather. you build up the courage to say the words you've been holding to yourself, and it came out of your mouth easier than expected. "i like you too, si-eun."

you could see the corners of his smile shift, curling into a faint smile. you haven't see him smile for a long time, and it felt even better since you're the reason why he's smiling. he squeezes your hands, his smile turning into something warmer.

si-eun lets out a small breath, feeling the huge weight on his shoulders lift. he cups your cheeks in his hands, tilting your head up slightly to look at him properly. "i didn't mean to distance myself from you for this long. i only distanced myself because i thought these feelings were just something else, and i realized it isn't. i was scared to reach out to you again because i thought you were mad at me—" "i'd never be mad at you, never in a million years." you cut him off, reassuring him.

you two stood there for a beat, slowly leaning into each other. once you were inches away, he stops. "you sure you're okay with this?" you nod. "absolutely." your lips meet, a bit of hesitance in it. but, cautiously, you both melted into the kiss, safe in each other's presence.

in that moment, you thought that, maybe, love isn't so bad after all...

© flwrfields

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi! could i please get a funnel cake with a sweet tea and a ticket to the tilt a whirl? thank you! this is such a cute concept!!

Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!

You and Simon sit on the couch as the tv casts a glow in your face with the movie you’re watching. It’s one you’ve seen a million times and neither of you are watching it. You’re both trying to figure out who’s going to make the first move but neither of you seem to be the one to do it.

Your hands slowly inch closer on the cushion that’s between you, scooting closer and closer until your thighs are touching. Your fingers lace through his and something about being this close, holding hands, just feels right. Like you were meant to do this.

Simon turns to look at you, letting you take up all of his attention. He doesn’t care if it’s weird-he just likes to look at you and admire how pretty he thinks you are. His eyes roam over your face-settling on your lips that he so desperately wants to kiss. If only he had the guts.

He knows you like him too, but he can’t get himself to tell you the truth. He’s scared of what it will do to your friendship as much as he wants to be more. He doesn’t want it to turn out badly and lose you altogether so he stays silent and turns back to the screen as the credits roll.

Your hand slips from his and he’s snapped back into reality. God, he can’t keep doing this. Maybe he should just get it over with-to lift the weight that’s been on his shoulders for years. He follows you into the kitchen, hot on your heels, progressively getting more angry with himself.

You both set the bowls of snacks from your movie night on the island, your arms brushing because of your close proximity. You know Simon like the back of your hand so you know something’s wrong. He’s quiet-but not the usual quiet. He seems…off. Angry. And you want to know what’s wrong so you can fix it.

“Simon-”

“I have something to say.” You both speak at the same time and you immediately stop talking, wanting to hear what’s so important. You turn towards each other, almost chest to chest and you watch his rise and fall rapidly. He almost seems nervous and you have no idea why.

“What’s going on?” You ask and he’s progressively getting more frustrated, trying to figure out how to put his feelings into words without scaring you off. And as he stares at your lips, he’s got the perfect idea.

“Fuck it,” he says before taking your face in his hands. His lips find yours and you let out a gasp before melting into him, your hands pressing against his chest. You can’t help but let out a sigh because it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

You both pour everything you’ve been feeling for the past few years into this kiss and his arms move to your waist. He pulls you closer to him and turns you so your back is pressed against the island, pulling away before it gets too heated.

“I love you,” he says through a breath and you can’t help but smile at that. This is everything you’ve wanted and more. You’ve been dreaming of this for so long and you almost can't believe that this is actually happening.

“I love you too,” you reply with another kiss and you both smile into it which makes the whole thing difficult but you manage even though you can’t seem to stop the giggles.

“Do you want to watch another movie? Maybe in my room?” You nod and let him lead you to his room where you definitely don’t watch the movie.

[darlingxs-blog]

YOUU . will write about daemon uhh idk hc idkk uhhh how would it feel like to kiss him . he clearly seems to enjoy „scaring” the player and not acting completely subservient towards you, so I like to think giving him more freedom or egging him on to do his own choices would be a . Way to bond w him

(I wonder how the others would react to him, if theyre able to comprehend him at all)

UHH besides that . maybe possibly perchance teasing Daemon? Finding some way to make him feel all tingly physically and seeing his form get all staticy and fuzzy? i need to kiss him and his . blue mouth UHHUDNFFHGGGHGHHHH

HEHSHSB OHDHHE WHY ARE YOU SO SMART OHDHEB GOOD LAWD YESSSEEHDHD

We kissing Daemon right on his static ass lips trust 😼���

Unfortunately I've never flirted with nor teased anyone ever in my life (I have no dating experience leave me alone) so the teasing is definitely going to be some very erm low tier shiz nit okay thank you byebye

A bug...

He's a love bug. Shhh keep it to yourself.

The bugged out dresser freaked you out a little bit, it started glitching when you tried to talk to Deenah but were met with a corrupted voice and a messed up text box and no show of Deenah, at all.

But you know what they say right, third times a charm. You walk up to the glitching dresser and shoot the little 'love beams' as Skylar Specs likes to call them at that dresser that freaks you out a little if your being honest.

"I don't bite." A glitched out figure of what you can't even describe appears in your view and you can't lie. He's...kinda hot. "I think. Did I?"

Feeling oh so confident with yourself and your abilities to tug at your household object's hearts you decide to work a little charm- no, let's be honest here. The words slipped out before you could even register what you wanted to say "you can if you want" seriously, what the hell was going on in your brain sometimes. "I don't think I want to" his distorted voice snaps you out of your self depreciating thoughts and makes you feel a little upset...he could have been at least a little nicer.

"And why not?" You reply back to the glitched out figure, if you started digging your own grave, why not make it deeper?

The silent buzz of static fills the air around you two before "chomp chomp" again with his distorted voice "munch munch" how serious he sounds and since you can't really tell his emotions by his expression all you can do is try to force down a laughter that threatens to spill from your lips.

Though, before you can say anything in reply. He's gone.

__________time skip cause I fucking can_______

You wake up the next day, before even getting out of bed you slide the rose tinted glasses onto your face and the warmth of Betty and her soft body snuggled up with you sweeps your stress away. You gotta thank Skylar for showing you this absolutely fabulous woman the first day you got these damn dateviators.

"Mornin' honey." Betty's arms tighten around you while bringing you in closer and you laugh sweetly idc if your a man, your a femboy now at her antics. You know just how much she doesn't like the mornings. "C'mon darlin' you gotta let me go." And she does, with a lot of reluctance before sitting up and grabbing your wrist with a much softer grip than she had on you before.

"You're not gonna kiss me before you go?" A pretty pout is on her lips and you just can't resist giving them a quick peck- just so she'll feel better...and you just really wanted to kiss her.

She hums and falls back against the plush pillows on your mattress holding one of the many throw pillows to her chest before shutting her eyes softly to squeeze in just a couple more minutes of rest.

After a quick stretch that pops your arms you turn your head only to remember the glitchy dresser, Daemon likes when you suddenly remember he is there even if you can't see him physically or at least that's what you think.

You walk up to the dresser and without even having to think about it for too long Daemon appears in front of you in a blitz. He looks...angrier than usual. That's none of your business though.

One dateable by one you've slowly been 'realizing' them as the Kind yet Anonymous hacker but it and today was the day you wanted to see what Daemon would look like if he was well complete.

"Daemon, something on your mind?" Sympathy etches on your features and he has to force himself not to jab at you for getting way too soft way too quickly. Someone could take advantage of that. "'Fine. Just do it." His layered voice is sharp, he doesn't want to waste time it seems.

You've busted your ass off getting your specs points to the max and now it finally pays off with your large harem of lovers becoming human right in front of your very eyes, like you did with the ones before the process of Daemon becoming human is much more...anticlimactic really, but you can't lie. Even with the features that would seem odd for just an ordinary human he still is quite fine- "can I kiss you" "What?" You blink once, twice, thrice before he says it again "I want to kiss you" bitch YES PLEASE DHHEBD

"Well, If you want too..." suddenly feeling very bashful you turn your head away, out of all the things you thought he would have said when he finally became human you have not conjured up a single scenario where that was the very first thing he said.

A hand that seems to generate a buzz of static across your skin and deep into your blood stream turns your head back to face forward and lips are pressed against yours. Daemon's lips are flat and almost freezing yet you've never felt anything that made you melt so quickly.

A hum of static fills your mouth and dances on your tounge like pop rocks and yet you don't feel anything at all, all the while you feel his desperation he has with every nip at your skin with the mouths that don't exist.

With every second that passes with his lips locked with yours the buzzing gets more intense, it feels like a straight shock of electricity and yet you don't feel enough pain to pull away in fact it only brings you closer.

Unfortunately, with your mortal body comes with mortal lungs that do need air to survive so you pull away with a huff that you regret. You really didn't want to let him go.

He looks down at you and your flushed face, chuckling like he isn't just as red.

___________________________________________

I had to stop it right there cause it was getting cringey, unfortunately I don't know how to write Romance 😔 IM SORRY but like I'm happy with this lowkey, kinda, a little.

On everybody's soul we YES WE are cracking Daemon.

[emthephantom]

She Needs Him- G.S

You and Geto are two peas in a pod, acting like the cutest of couples to any outsider. Gojo can't stomach the feeling of his best friend and the girl he loves being so close, so what does he do?

Warnings: None Words: 1.4K A/N: Honestly ooc but we need yearner Gojo and I'm here to deliver- hopefully. And yes, THAT mission doesn't happen and Geto never leaves.- Part 2 already in the works :p

Satoru Gojo was the strongest, everyone knew that. Nothing could faze him, so why does his heart feel so broken at the sight before him. He’s seen it many times, but it never gets any easier. It should be his shoulder you're lying on, not Geto’s. 

Deep down, Gojo was jealous of his best friend and his effortless connection with you. Sure, you and he were friends, but it was different, you didn’t drift to him in a room, you didn’t whisper and giggle with him and you certainly weren’t as touchy. Gojo wanted to ask, if there was something between you and Geto, but even he knew he couldn’t handle the truth.  

It didn’t bother him at first. Didn’t bother him that you always held onto Geto’s arm when you walked, or that you smiled so sweetly when he handed you your favourite ice cream. It totally didn't drive him crazy that it was Geto making you grin like that. Okay, he lied, it irked him from the moment he realised his feelings. After all, he saw you first, he spoke to you that first night on the stairs, the starts bringing you together. Gojo wonders if that memory is as important to you as it is to him; do you consider it special? 

Gojo couldn’t count how many nights it had been where he laid in his bed, tossing and turning, his thoughts full of you. The side he left vacant was cold, it was a habit he had developed, keeping to the left side of the bed, imagining you beside him. In his half-asleep state he’d reach out, hoping to feel the warmth of your body, but alas, you weren’t there. He’d continue the fantasy in his head, wishing to feel your hands around him as you whispered sweet nothings. On some nights he’d let himself cry, the tears staining his grey pillow. Gojo’s doubts rolled in then, voices telling him ‘She doesn’t deserve you, you’re nothing like him; why would she choose you, she needs him more.’ 

The mornings after were torture. Exhaustion filled his body, his black glasses covering the growing bags under his eyes.  

‘Satoru, are you okay? Did you sleep at all?’ a sweet voice calls to him; in his sleep deprived brain, he thinks it's an angel, but he sees you and knows you’re better than that.  

‘The strongest never sleeps Y/N, don’t you know that?’ Gojo replies, putting on his charismatic facade; being vulnerable in front of you was never an option. 

‘Toru... You can te-’ 

‘Y/N!’ Geto shouts, ‘There you are, come on we have training.’ Gojo sees your face falter but thinks nothing of it, ready to turn away. But then he feels your hand on his wrist, the warmth seeping through his sleeve, 

‘Take care of yourself.’ you smile softly. He watches you skip to his best friend, immediately hooking your arm with his, jealousy pooling in his stomach again. 

°•. ✿ .•°

It had been months, if not a year by now, and it was only getting worse. Gojo couldn’t handle the small interactions with you, he wanted needed more. He rarely slept, instead laying on top of his covers, the ceiling more interesting than the dreams that await him. The bin in the corner and his desk full of crumpled papers, words alone could never be enough to profess the adoration he held for you. He days began to blur, and repeat; wake up, look at you, watch you with Geto, stay awake wondering what was wrong with him. Just last week Gojo watched as you brushed away Geto’s bangs, smiling up at him with that toothy grin. He was losing you, and he despised it. The next day wasn’t easier.  

Geto slid into the seat next to him as he watched you spar with Haibara.  

‘She’s great, isn’t she?’ Geto spoke, the softness in his voice is another punch to the gut, but Gojo bites back the envy, 

‘Yeah, she is...’ 

A singular mission changed everything. A special grade appeared, one that shouldn’t have been there. Gojo doesn't remember much except for fighting tirelessly, only seeing the curse head towards you. You were beaten and bloody when it was done, your cursed energy drained. He ran. He ran as fast as he could towards you, but he couldn’t be the hero. 

Shoko could fix his injuries but not his broken heart, Geto got to you first, cradling your weak body. 

‘She’s still breathing, I’ll take her back, can you handle this Satoru?’ Geto calls out. 

Gojo regains his composure, placing the cocky persona back on, ‘I’m the strongest, aren’t I?’  

He ignores the soft coos that fall from Geto’s mouth as he's scooping you up and taking you away. It should be him next to you instead. He casts aside the thoughts and focuses on ending this fight; for you. 

°•. ✿ .•°

A few days pass and Gojo makes his way to your dorm, wanting to check up on you, but stops short of the door when he hears muffled voices. 

‘I’m glad you’re okay Y/N/N.’ Shoko’s in your dorm, a normal occurrence, so he steps closer, about to knock. 

‘So, are you and Geto a thing?’ she asks. He wants to leave, not wanting to worsen the ache he feels, but he’s intrigued.  

‘Shoko, you know what the answer is.’ Geto. He’s in there too? Gojo turns and leaves, sweat pooling on his back. It’s over, no longer could he think of you, you weren’t his, you weren’t even anything close to that. He enters his dorm, the silence deafening, why does he have everything except the thing he really wanted? 

°•. ✿ .•°

‘Hey Satoru, wanna come get ramen with Geto and I?’ Gojo can hear your voice through his door, he wants so desperately to reach out and say yes, be close with you, but he can’t. He made himself a promise and he must stick to it. 

‘Nah, I’m good.’ 

‘Oh... well see you later.’ He hates hearing you so sad, but he can’t falter. The avoidance tactic had been working, his room becoming a sanctuary for him. The letters to you continued but remained crumpled, ready to discard. A different letter lay in front of him as he listens to your retreating footsteps, ‘Kyoto Jujutsu High Transfer Form’ 

°•. ✿ .•°

It had been two weeks since he signed the letter and two weeks since he last saw you. When Yaga asked why the sudden move, Gojo could only say one thing, love. 

As he packed away the last remaining items, his thoughts drifted, maybe in another life it was you and him, but why not this one? He clears his throat and looks around the now empty room. He glances at the clock and pushes his glasses further up his nose, deciding he can spare a few minutes. It was for the best he kept repeating, he needed to do this. Regrets started to piece together and Gojo buried his head in his hands, wishing he had just made a move. 

He leaves in the dead of the night, avoiding the goodbyes that would have kept him here. His suitcase rolls behind him and the bag on his shoulder weighs him down. Gojo stops just short of the entrance, taking everything in. The stars tonight were bright, lighting up the sky like a stage. He smiles softly, remembering that night again. He remembers wanting to give you his jacket when you said you were going back inside, wanting to stay with you longer. But he didn’t, he let you turn and head back into the school, ‘Maybe that would have changed things.’ he mutters. 

Gojo, too absorbed in his mind, failed to realise you on the steps behind him. You hug your arms around yourself and stand.  

‘Toru where are you going?’ He’s missed your voice so much, he wants to reach out and confess, but he doesn't, only tilting his head.  

He notices your shivering and decides to redeem his lost chance, ‘You’re cold, here.’ he says shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you.  

Accepting the jacket, you press further, ‘Are you leaving the school.’ 

‘You deserve him Y/N/N, you need him more than you need me, take care.’ 

[thecowboyfiles]

piss kink w Bob please???? maybe him accidentally pissing himself either in public or when he wasn't supposed to, anything to get him all nervous and panicky so dom reader gets to tease comfort him and clean him up

Yes, of course 😏 Also, if you guys don't specify, I'm just gonna assume that all requests for Bob are Bob Floyd because I don't know how many times I can make a post asking for people to call Robert Reynolds anything but "Bob" in my askbox.

Bob's desperate. You know he is, the way that he keeps shifting from side to side in his chair, but you talked about this before, and he hasn't said the one word he knows could stop all this, so you know he's okay.

The restaurant is fancy, black tie fancy, and here was your naval leuienant boyfriend squirming in his seat and occasionally squeezing his dick under the table. "I have to go," He says quietly.

"Hands above the table." Is all you reply, voice hard, while you bring your wine glass to your lips.

Obediently, Bob brings both his hands above the table. "I have to go," He repeats, a little edge to his voice now.

"I heard you," you reply flatly. "That's not what you agreed to, Bobby. You agreed to hold your bladder for me all throughout dinner. We're not even finished the starter salads, and you're already squirming like a little boy." You work to keep your face neutral, but your eyes are shining brightly. The red liquid in your glass shakes, and so does Bob's water; he's shaking his leg under the table.

Bob's eyelids flutter, and a small whine leaves his lips. "I know what I agreed to, Master, I just don't think I can." His fist is clenched on the table and you know he's aching to squeeze his dick again.

"Finish your water," You command, nodding toward his half-empty glass on the table. "Then ask me again."

Foolishly thinking that you will let him go after he does what you say, Bob gulps down the water in record time, and you watch his Adam's apple go down and up and down again. He's breathing a little heavier when he sets his glass down again. "Can I go now?"

You can't help but smirk. "If you can make it to dessert, I'll let you go."

To Bob's credit, he really, really tries. Such a good boy, just as he always is, trying to keep his squirming and his soft whines to a minimum. You've both finished your mains, and the waiter has just taken your dessert order, when Bob lets out a gasp and his entire body goes rigid. You know there's bound to be a dime-sized wet spot on his nice suit. "Fuck, oh fuck, I have to go, I can't hold it, I..."

You're about to ask him if he remembers the safe word, if he wants to use it, but the waiter is back and Bob is tense and still in his seat. "Actually, we'll take these desserts to go." You smile politely at the waiter. You were playing, but you weren't about to make Bob sit through a dessert when you could get him home and reward him for being such a good boy.

Without thinking of it, Bob instinctively relaxes when the waiter nods and walks away. Panic etches its way into the features on his face, and if you listen closely, you can hear the soft hiss of urine escaping his dick and soaking into the fabric of his pants.

"I-I-I-I'm so sorry, I tried to hold it, I really did, I just... I had to go so bad and..." Tears and stinging in his eyes, and his cheeks flushed a bright red while you watch.

"Aw, baby, I know you tried so hard, you always try for me, don't you? You just... You can never get it quite right." You sigh softly and shake your head. "C'mon, let's get up and go to the bathroom."

Bob looks around wildly. "What? Here?"

"Well, unless you wanna walk home with wet pants..." You start, standing up and rounding the table to lean down and whisper in his ear. "Besides... if you want me to get my mouth on you, you'll get up and walk back to those bathrooms like nothing changed since you walked in here. Like you didn't just wet your pants like the baby we both know you are,"

[reginaphalangelobster]

My Handsome Hero

Dean WInchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet a certain hunter when he walks into your diner. He turns out to be just the person you need, especially when it comes to your creepy boss.

Warnings: creepy boss, alcohol consumption, violence.

Word Count: 2k

You hadn't been working at Rosie's Roadhouse for long, only a couple of months at most but it was close to home, the work wasn't all that bad and the pay was okay. Not many people came through, just random travellers here and there and a few local bar flies. Since there weren't all that many people around you often worked as the bartender and waitress, if you did both it paid a little better and there were never enough customers to make it an issue. The only real issue was your creepy boss, Clem. He always looked a little too long, stood a little too close and hit on you relentlessly. You nearly lost it one night when you came in for your shift and he gave you your new uniform. New uniform, it was barely clothing. A tight, low cut white tank top and a black pencil skirt that barely went a few inches down your thigh. If you were to so much as think of bending over you'd be exposed at every angle. You talked to him about it but he said it was what the owner wanted, this mysterious "Rosie" that no one in town had ever seen. You put up with it because you needed the money, and to be fair, you did get bigger tips so you tried looking on the bright side. You were only staying in the dingy bar until you had enough money saved up to go anywhere else.

One day you walked in for your shift and everything was as it usually was, Frank in the corner, passed out, Joanna sitting at the bar talking the ear off anyone who would listen, Ron throwing them back as fast as he could before his wife found out where he was, his wife, Joanna, they were both always so out of it that they didn't recognise each other after twenty years of marriage, and Clem, letching around as per usual. The one thing that did change was the old door creaking and two men walking through. One tall with longish brown hair and the other, shorter but still tall with lighter short hair. They walked over to a table and collapsed into the booth, they were a little dirty and looked absolutely wrecked. They could barely keep their eyes open long enough to scan the menu before you walked over. You made your way from the bar to their table in the stupidly tight uniform and heels.

"What can I get you boys?" You asked with your brightest fake smile and sweet tone.

"I'll just have a salad, thanks" The taller one said.

"Well sweetheart, whaddya recommend?" The other grinned, a not so innocent look in his eyes.

"The cheeseburgers here are good, don't get the fish" Your tone turned into a mock whisper "It's not really fish"

"I don't even wanna know what it is" The first man mumbled whilst pulling a laptop out of his bag.

"Cheeseburger sounds great, and a couple of beers, thanks" The sly one replied, still grinning.

You started to walk away when they began to talk, you didn't mean to overhear but it was near silent in there.

"Seriously Dean?"

"What?"

"Don't what me, you know what"

"The waitress?"

"More like every waitress. I'm getting kinda sick of you hitting on everyone everywhere we go when we're meant to be working a case"

"What about that last case in Detroit? All I had to do was eye up the shopkeeper and she told us everything we needed to know about that Wendigo"

"Just, cool it for tonight, please. I want to get a decent night's sleep and I can't do that if you're screwing some waitress in our room"

"You could always get another room Sammy"

He looked at Dean with a warning in his eye, a "don't test me" glare and they both shut up until you brought out their food. You placed the beer and plates in front of them with a smile on your face.

"Thanks sweetheart" Dean said with that damn smug grin and you were done.

"First of all, I'm not your sweetheart. Second of all you can forget about screwing me in your motel room, you'd be better off turning to Jolly Green here" You barked as you pointed at Sam.

You weren't sure what came over you, maybe it was pent up resentment towards your boss but either way you were glad to get some of it out. Although you did feel a little bad. You walked back to the bar and served your regulars. The boys left after a while and you continued your shift.

You didn't think much of them after that until they came back a few months later. You barely recognised them but after you took their same order again it clicked. You didn't bring it up but Dean did.

"Hey, aren't you that waitress we had a couple months ago? You called my brother Jolly Green"

"That's what you remember?"' You replied.

"I always remember when people make fun of Sammy, that was a good one"

"Gee thank Dean" Sam said in an ingenuine tone.

"Yeah, sorry about that I guess. My boss is a dick and I think I took it out on you, how 'bout a free beer to make up for it?"

"If that's what'll cure your soul I guess I can accept it" Dean said, overacting in his sincerity.

You laughed a little before walking off to get them their same order.

"Again?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up"

Sam and Dean stopped in every now and then for the next year. You didn't know it but whenever they were anywhere near the area Dean would insist they stop by.

"Come on, Sammy"

"Their salads are terrible"

"Then get something that isn't rabbit food, the cheeseburgers are great"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you wanna go there for the cheeseburgers"

"I do, they wrap the patty in bacon, bacon Sammy"

"And you're only going for the bacon? Nothing else?"

"The wonderful atmosphere, what else would I go there for?"

"You know what"

"Enlighten me"

"The waitress, you know, the one woman who doesn't want to sleep with you"

"Her? You really think I'd drive forty miles out of my way for her?"

"So you wouldn't for her but you would for a cheeseburger?"

"Bacon. Wrapped Samuel. Bacon wrapped!"

"Okay, okay, I got it. Bacon wrapped, jeez. You'll have a heart attack by the time you're fifty"

"Bitch"

"Jerk"

You didn't realise it but when Dean walked through the door you smiled, some might say your face lit up whenever he was around. Over time his terrible jokes started to become hilarious, you weren't really sure why but any bad day you were having could be turned around if he walked through the door.

The second you saw them you put their order in and cracked a couple of beers.

"Hey sweetheart" Dean said as you walked up to them. The once annoying nickname now warmed your heart.

"Hey boys, busy workin'?"

"Yeah, yeah, monsters ain't gonna kill themselves" Dean replied.

"Except that teddy bear" Sam commented.

"Do I wanna know about that one?"

"It was actually pretty funny" Dean said, laughing slightly at the memory.

"Do tell"

You sat down beside Dean as he told you the story. You weren't busy so you had the time. You reacted loudly, laughing at the whole thing. Sometimes you couldn't believe the stories they told. The only reason you did, was because on one of their trips a werewolf was in town and ripped Frank's heart out, you were the one that found him and that's when Sam and Dean explained everything.

"Nice to know its not all just doom and gloom out there"

"Yeah, occasionally we have a funny case, y'know, apart from the deaths"

You got up to take their plates away, just as you were about to walk into the kitchen you heard a light flapping sound behind the doors, so quiet it didn't even register. When you opened them you saw Castiel and let out a small gasp at the surprise.

"Cas, next time you come by remind me to teach you how to knock"

"I understand the concept of knocking"

"But not the application I see"

"Where's Dean?"

"In his booth with Sam, how come you didn't just zap there? Superpowers on the fritz?"

"No, my grace is fine. Last time I appeared in the middle of a public place a few people, as Dean would say, freaked out and they told me to "knock it off"" He answered, actually putting air quotes around the words "knock it off".

"Ah, I see. Well they're just out there. Go, kick evil's ass? I'm not entirely sure what you do besides live in Dean's ass"

"I don't-" Cas stopped, realising that telling you what had happened would be as pointless as when he asked Dean to stop saying that "Thank you"

You got back to work as Cas talked to the boys, you saw them leave together and you felt like saying something to Dean, anything. You didn't want him to leave, for some reason. Just as you were about to talk to him you felt a hand curl around your wrist.

"Where do you thing you're going, baby girl?"

You sighed, heavily, it was Clem. Of course it was Clem.

"I have to talk to someone Clem, my shift is over in five minutes anyways" You said as you pulled away, only for his grip to tighten.

"You're not done yet, there's something I need your help with, out back"

You rolled your eyes and with a huff of your chest you followed him.

"What do you need help with? I can't see anything" You said, examining the area.

"Everything I need is right here" He said with a disturbing look in his eye.

Before you knew it he shoved you against the wall. You felt the rusty steel pressed to your back, your tiny uniform barely giving you any protection from the cold. And you felt Clem, you felt his slimy hands all over you, trying to get under your shirt.

"Clem!" You screamed at him "Get the hell off me" You tried to squirm free but he was stronger than you though.

"That's it baby, be as loud as you want, no one's gonna hear you, and if they do? They won't care"

"That right?" Dean's voice came from behind Clem.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you when you saw Dean. He was just about to get into Baby when he heard you. Your loud cries stirred a fiery rage inside him and he followed the sound immediately. When he saw that creep shoving you into the wall he felt like he could explode. He ripped him off of you and slammed his fist into Clem's face. You both heard bones crack as he screamed with pain. Dean's knuckles were painted in Clem's blood when he turned to you.

"Are you okay? I swear, if that bastard did anything to y-" Dean was cut off abruptly by your lips latching onto his. An overwhelming wave of affection washed over you as you saw Dean protecting you. You couldn't hold it in, you couldn't help yourself anymore.

He was a little stunned for a second, then he fell into the kiss. His mouth moved with yours like a symphony of love and lust. You could taste the beer on his breath and he could taste your devastatingly delicious lips, so soft. You finally pulled away, breathless.

"Dean" You said softly between lung fulls of air "Thank you"

"I'd do anything for you sweetheart. Want me to hit him again? I'd love to"

You laughed lightly "No" You looked over Dean's shoulder to see Clem, running away muttering curses in-between sobs "I think he got the point"

"Good, but seriously, are you okay?"

"I am, I'm fine, my handsome hero"

Dean laughed, blushing slightly when he caught your lips in another kiss, one of many to come.

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