#//this is probably one of the best things

[flwrkid14]

Famous streamer Danny and his secret boyfriend:

Okay, but picture this: Danny Fenton is this massive streamer—like, he’s the guy everyone watches for chill vibes, chaotic gaming, and somehow getting sidetracked talking about conspiracy theories in the middle of a speedrun. His streams are a mess of ghost jokes, random facts about space, and way too much energy for someone running on three hours of sleep and coffee.

And then there’s his boyfriend—who the fans only know exists because Danny’s way too in love to not talk about him. Like, every stream, without fail, Danny’s casually dropping hints. “Oh yeah, my boyfriend brought me coffee, isn’t he the best?” or “I was playing this game with him last night, and he kept getting us killed, but he’s cute so I let it slide.”

The thing is, no one has ever seen this boyfriend. Not once. No name, no face, nothing. And at this point, it’s basically part of Danny’s brand. His fans are in the chat, spamming questions like, “Who is he?” “Is he another streamer?” “What’s his name?” and Danny’s just laughing it off every time, like, “Eh, maybe I’ll introduce you guys one day.”

The fan theories are wild. People have made entire reddit threads trying to piece together clues about who this mystery guy is. Some think Danny’s boyfriend is a celebrity. Others are convinced it’s someone famous in the gaming world, but no one has any proof. It’s like the internet’s biggest mystery, and Danny’s just sitting there, fully aware of it, leaning into the chaos without giving away a single detail.

Meanwhile, Tim Drake—yes, that Tim Drake, Gotham’s resident CEO of WE and vigilante—is just chilling in the background. He’s the boyfriend, obviously. The one who makes sure Danny actually eats between streams and sometimes joins him off-camera to play co-op games. But Tim’s got no intention of revealing himself. He likes the anonymity, the whole “mysterious boyfriend” thing. Plus, with his whole double life as a vigilante, staying out of the public eye (more than he already is) isn’t exactly a bad idea.

But the best part—Danny’s fans? They’re convinced his boyfriend is some kind of superhero or vigilante. The way Danny talks about him—like he’s always busy, never around during certain hours (because, you know, Tim’s out patrolling Gotham), and the fact that he’s never once shown up on camera? It’s practically begging for wild speculation. And Danny? He’s just letting them run with it, saying stuff like, “Oh yeah, he’s totally saving the world right now, can’t make it to stream today.”

So now Danny’s got this massive online following, all obsessed with his mystery boyfriend, while Tim’s just quietly in the background, living his double life and probably smirking every time Danny plays along with the fans’ theories. It’s lowkey hilarious, and neither of them is ever planning to set the record straight. They’re just having way too much fun with it.

[drdemonprince]

any advice for coping with being on the receiving end of a public callout ?

Oh yes:

Do not acknowledge the callout publicly. It will only further its spread, lend it legitimacy, cause you to be interpreted as guilty, and convey to anyone who bears you ill will that you are rattled and feeling socially threatened.

Do not act out of urgency. One of the ways that cancelled people get themselves in far worse trouble is by spiraling due to anxiety and rushing to issue a statement about what has happened, or to attempt to socially manage public impressions about what has happened. Do not do this. Anything that you say will be picked apart and used against you. The situation is truly not as urgent as it might feel. A lot of times, doing nothing and being quiet is the best way to proceed, and the dust will settle better if you do.

Do not issue a public apology. If you truly feel that you have wronged someone, that conflict should be worked out in private with the people you have directly affected. You do not owe the anonymous public audience a damn thing. Do not apologize for something you don't honestly believe that you have done wrong. Take time and really think about what happened, and seek the counsel of people whom you trust in PRIVATE.

Do not attempt to disprove the callout unless you have crystal clear, smoking gun evidence that the person who accused you is actually victimizing you. And even then, probably don't do it. I have only seen a disproof of a callout work ONCE, and that was when Juniper Abernathy revealed the person cancelling her had been abusing her. Even if the facts are on your side, acknowledging the accusations will only make more people aware of them, give your detractors ground to criticize your every word, and will muddy the waters and make people find the situation confusing and troubling rather than clear.

GET THE FUCK OFFLINE. Delete your social media apps for the time being. Turn off notifications. Turn off DMs requests. Change your settings so that you only ever hear from people you already follow (I do this, on the advice of Philosophy Tube). Get away from the computer.

Connect with IRL friends. When you're wrapped up in a cancellation, the negative opinions of a handful of foaming at the mouth freaks loom way larger than they actually are. And social media dramatically skews our sense of social priorities such that the approval rating of complete strangers starts to seem more important than people we actually know, and trust, and who actually know us. Go get a meal with a buddy. Watch a dumb movie. Talk to your grandma about her plans for her garden. Surround yourself with real people you care about and focus on their life and problems, to help put things in perspective.

Find distracting, active, rewarding activities that bring you out of the digital space and into physical reality. Not everyone is talking about you, not everybody hates you, most people have no fucking clue what has been said about you, and most people do not give a fuck about you (that's good). There are so many areas of life that are completely fucking untouched by what a bunch of social media power users have to say online. Go volunteer to clean up a park, run some errands, take an exercise class, foster a dog, regrout your bathroom, knit a hat. Even if the worst case scenario happens and a cancellation sticks, it's really only among a certain very vocal group of miserable fucking people. There is a whole world around you that will not ever care, and you will have a life outside of this.

Good luck!!

[ckret2]

I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!

🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.

🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.

🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.

🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.

🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.

🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.

🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.

🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it

🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)

🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.

🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!

(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)

🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!

🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.

(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)

🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.

🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.

And she only wants what's best for her golden child.

🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.

🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!

🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.

🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.

But back to Scalene!

🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.

🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.

🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.

🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."

There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!

(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)

[aurorawritestoescape]

WALLET PHOTO || DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel and you are in a secret relationship but one day Joel notices that you’re not very careful at keeping the secret.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, age gap (how big is up to you), soft!Joel, taking nudes, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv (wrap it up), squirting, creampie. Reader wears a skirt. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 4,3k

A/n: written for @justagalwhowrites ‘s Joel Miller Birthday celebration! I chose dbf Joel and secret relationship. Thank you for a wonderful challenge, Kit 💕and Happy Birthday to tloml, Joel Miller!❤️ Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 I’ve never written dbf and I hope y’all like it! Love you! Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more soft Joel - Good Girl || Sweet Cherry

After an afternoon movie date with Joel you’re sitting on your bed in your room with a shoe box on your lap. Joel’s leaning against the door frame, watching you with a soft smile. Your noisy roommate is not in so you two are enjoying each other’s company in the quiet apartment.

Joel knows about your big collection of movie tickets and doesn’t ask any questions when you take today's trophy out of your wallet with a content smile and place it in the box. You’re telling him how much you hate the introduction of electronic tickets when Joel interrupts you.

"Hey! Show me that.”

With his expression serious all of a sudden he steps up towards you, his arm stretched and waiting.

“What?"

"Your wallet. Give me.”

“Ehm... no.”

You're hurriedly trying to shove it back into your tiny handbag but Joel’s too fast. He bends down, yanks the wallet out of your fingers and opens it. You sigh deeply when he looks down at you with a heavy scowl that speaks volumes.

You don’t say anything and after a few moments of heavy silence he breaks it.

“Baby”.

You probably should feel concerned but the thunder in his voice sends shivers of excitement down your spine, your heartbeat increases and you gush into your panties.

"What?"

"Why do you have my photo in your wallet?"

You pout your lips and reply with defiance,

"To look at you."

He puts his hands on his hips, his usual stance when you behave like a brat, your wallet still clenched between his thick fingers, and his usually warm but now fiery eyes under the furrowed brows are boring into you.

“What if your dad sees it?”

"He won't."

"How can you be so sure? I’ve noticed it. He might as well."

"Well..,” you start and pause, looking everywhere but his piercing eyes.

"Well what?"

“I don't know, Joel! Stop grilling me!” you exclaim, finally breaking under pressure. Then you look up at the man with your best puppy eyes and explain, “I love this photo. I love looking at it when I miss you.”

Joel sighs and his arms fall in defeat. His softness washes away the displeasure off his handsome face as soon as he notices that you’re upset.

His voice is warm and comforting again when he argues,

"But you have a bunch of my photos on your phone.”

"Yeah, but… This is different. I love having it here. I open my wallet and BAM! You’re staring at me. So handsome and mine.” Your eyes downcast, you add, “My heart feels warm and shit when I see it.”

"Warm and shit. Jesus. You'll be the death of me, missy."

With a deep sigh he hands you the wallet back and when you are about to grab it, he clasps your wrist and gently pulls you off the bed and into his embrace. You press your nose to his warm chest, hidden behind the softest flannel, and take a deep breath of his scent. His big heart is beating steadily under your palms, his arms, muscular and strong, shield you from the outside world that is unfortunately not receptive to your relationship.

You feel a kiss planted on the top of your head and look up at Joel. Your eyes lock as you talk without speaking, confess the things that both of you have no guts to verbalize yet. Instead you connect by sharing the warmth of your bodies, letting your heartbeats harmonize with each other.

As always when you’re with Joel, the warmth quickly morphs into scorching fire and your body starts demanding him just as much as your heart. Your core ignites, sending flames of wet desire to your aching pussy and you lick your lower lip, inviting your secret lover to get a taste.

“My beautiful girl”, Joel whispers, as his pupils dilate, eyes slide over the curve of your mouth and he leans down. The kiss, gentle, slow and wet, soon overwhelms you, makes your whole body tremble with need and you cuddle into his arms as close as you can.

Joel seems impatient to have you too and when he slightly bucks his hips, you feel him stiff against your lower belly. You breathe out his name and take a step back, pulling him by the hand towards your bed. He sits down on the foot of it and you swiftly straddle his thighs.

“Damn, baby,” Joel growls as you plant a soft kiss on his cheek and your hips start rolling gently against his hard bulge. He throws your open wallet on the bed and you turn to look down at the photo.

Joel follows the direction of your eyes and says with a soft smile, “I remember that day.”

“Yeah, it was my birthday. You looked so hot in that blue shirt.”

“Really?” Joel beams at you like a cat sitting in the sun and his dark eyes are darting between yours while his hands are gripping your hips tighter.

“Yeah. We weren't together yet but I was already… I already liked you.”

“Oh,” Joel mumbles and then tilts his head, brows furrowed. “Didn’t ya have a boyfriend back then? I remember some guy being there with you.”

“Yeah, I did,” you smirk and then nuzzle his scruffy cheek, purring against it, “but the entire party I was wet because of my dad’s buddy.”

Joel growls and squeezes the softness of your hips as you sit straight and admit, locking eyes with him,

“ ‘s why I took that photo. Wanted to have something of you.”

Joel’s looking up at you as if you’re an angel fallen

from heaven. Not used to expressing his feelings, he pulls you closer, kisses your cheek and hugs you tightly.

“I… never thought I’d feel all this again. Never thought you’d be mine. ‘m lucky to have you.”

You hold your breath and freeze in his arms, scared to ruin this beautiful moment.

Joel pulls away from you and searches for your eyes.

"I want your photo too, sweetheart. Wanna feel warm and shit when I open my wallet," he quotes you with a wink and adds, "Your dad be damned."

You giggle, the sound ringing with excitement, and swiftly get off him.

“Let’s take it now!”

You hurry to your desk, open the first drawer and look for your Polaroid camera. Then you return to Joel, handing it to him.

“Where should I sit?”

You look about your bedroom, chewing on your lip, searching for the best place to pose at.

“Not the bed, baby. I should have at least the benefit of the doubt if someone sees it.”

You laugh and then take a seat in your chair at the desk, thighs pressed together, covered partially by your short skirt, hands clasped in your lap.

Joel gets up, and when you give him your most innocent smile, he pushes the button.

The picture slides out immediately and Joel pulls it out and starts shaking it, stepping up to you, waiting for it to develop.

“If I look bad, we’ll take another one, k?” you ask, your big eyes directed at Joel.

“You couldn’t look bad even if you tried, baby.”

Warmth fills your chest as he cups your cheek and you nuzzle his warm palm. Then you impatiently take the photo from his hand and look at it.

“It’ll do,” you comment with a happy grin.

You show it to Joel and he bends over and squints looking at it.

“Do you need your glasses?” You ask with a naughty smile and Joel throws you the look.

“I don’t,” he straightens up and takes the photo from you to inspect it closely.

“Huh. You look like such a good girl.”

You fake gasp, plant your hands on your knees and bat your lashes at him with exaggeration.

“Ain’t I a good girl, Joel?”

The man puts the photo on your desk and steps up so close that his jeans brush your naked knees. You squirm when he pinches your chin and tilts your head up to face him.

“We both know how bad this good girl can get.”

The way he says it, voice low and gruff, eyes blown out and full of fire, sends shivers down your spine and you feel a new surge of wetness spill into your already soaked panties.

“Yeah,” you agree and bite your lip when an idea lights up in your mind. “We can take one more photo. Of your bad girl.”

Joel’s chest expands, and he shifts his jaw while his hungry gaze is sliding down your body.

“You’ll let me?”

You nod, melting under his scorching look.

His expression is serious, almost dark, when he takes the camera off the desk. You try to contain your excitement, calm down the fire burning deep in your core, before you take a deep breath. Joel steps back and sits down on the bed, thighs spread, holding the camera in his big hands but not lifting it to his eyes.

“Show me what you wanna do, baby.”

“Ohh.” You raise your eyebrows playfully at the man. “You can be unhappy with my pose?”

“What if my bad girl gets too shy to come out?” He smiles and you bite your lower lip, giddy with the challenge presented to you.

After a few moments of contemplation you start by taking your top off. You give Joel a little show, sliding the clothing off your body slowly, gliding your hands over your exposed skin. Soon you’re left sitting in your lacy bra and a skirt and Joel seems to love it. He throws his thighs wider and adjusts his prominent bulge.

Wishing to show him your assets in the best way, you lean against the chair and arch your back, pushing your tits out. Your nipples are hard under the thin lace and Joel definitely sees them.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Joel praises you in a soft tone but then tilts his head to the side, a smirk twisting his lips. “Wish you showed me more.”

You narrow your eyes at the man.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s coming,” you say and seductively pull down your skirt. Joel’s eyes immediately dart to your lacy thong. Now you’re sitting only in your underwear in front of Joel, who’s still fully clothed. When you glide your palms over your body to entice the man, your arousal spikes and you desperately wish for it to be Joel’s big hands.

“Wanna take a pic now?” You know that Joel’s on the verge of getting up and ripping the last of the clothes off you but he surprises you with his reply, as he places the camera on the bed next to him.

“Not yet, sweetheart. You can do better.”

Your jaw drops at his audacity and you wriggle in the seat, trying to alleviate the ache between your legs, probably leaving a wet stain on the chair.

‘He wants to play? Let’s play,’ you think and purr,

“Careful what you wish for, Mr Miller.”

Joel’s nostrils flare and a low growl rises up from his chest when he hears what you called him.

Your mischievous smile indicates that you know exactly what you’re doing and you don’t plan on stopping. Joel is always gentle with you but sometimes it’s fun to wake the other side of him, a passionate man driven by desire, ready to grab, manhandle and fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.

So with a half sigh-half moan you hook your thumbs under the straps of your bra and slide them off your shoulders while Joel’s dark eyes are following your every move. His gaze glosses over when you pull your bra cups down and expose your breasts to his hungry eyes.

“Ohh, that’s my girl,” he croaks, moving closer to the edge of the bed, as if he’s ready to pounce on you any second.

“Still a good girl, Joel?” you purr, kneading the soft plush of your tits, and spreading your thighs a little wider.

Joel seems to be lost for words as you take the bra off and languidly move your hips back and forth, riding the chair, desperately wishing it to be Joel’s hips. Your sexy taunting backfires as the friction on your aching pussy spikes your need and you plead,

“Can you already take the pic?”

Not tearing his eyes off your body, Joel grabs the camera off the bed but still doesn’t direct it at you.

Your heart beats faster when you realize what he’s waiting for.

You’ve started dating Joel recently so every time you show him THAT part of you, your pussy, your whole body still trembles with nerves and excitement. Joel never pushes you, never asks for more that you wish to give him but you can’t help but feel a little anxious.

Before you step over the edge, you take a deep breath and spread your thighs wider. You trace your seam under the panties with your middle finger and your skin erupts with chills at the light caress. You tilt your hips up to show him more and Joel leans slightly forward and wets his lips when his eyes land on the wet spot on the fabric.

“Shall I take my panties off, Mr Miller?” Your voice is shaky with lust, as you press your finger to your hardened clit over the soaked panties. A needy moan flies out of your parted lips and Joel echoes it with a groan.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Please, show me.”

His self control is crumbling, judging by the strain in his voice. You don’t make him wait for long. You lift your hips and in a second your panties fall on the floor.

“Ohh, baby.”

Joel’s soft moan at the sight of your naked pussy gives you the needed courage, drowns your shyness in a deep pit of desire, and you slowly lift and plant your feet on the edge of the chair, one and then the other.

Your pussy opens up, weeping hole clenching, calling for your lover, and your chest and belly heave when you caress your mound and then slide your middle finger between your wet folds.

“Joel,” you whimper and his will breaks.

He gets up, brings the camera to his eyes but then lowers it to ask,

“Can I take a few photos of you?”

You smile and whisper a sultry ‘ yeah’ and Joel pushes the button, taking a photo of you sitting on the chair, your nipples perked up, legs bent and spread, hand resting between your thighs as you look up at him with your gaze lustful and needy.

He’s inching towards you and every few seconds takes another photo. Click-click-click.

“Damn, I — you’re— fuck, so hot.”

You giggle and, wanting to give him more, run your hands over your naked body so he could capture your fingers pushing your breasts together, twitching your nipples, gliding through your puffy folds. The pictures are falling on the floor, one by one, blank yet, creating a path as he’s slowly walking towards you.

Your pussy is crying, clear desire trickling from your hole and onto the chair, and you whimper when he kneels in front of you and glances up, waiting for your approval. Your cheeks burn but you nod with a smile, letting him capture the most sacred part of you.

Joel’s breathing heavily as he brings the camera to his eyes and directs it at your glistening cunt.

When the photo appears, he doesn’t look at it. Instead he’s focused on your expression, pained and needy, and your desperate ‘Joel’ falling off your lips drives him crazy. He puts the camera on the floor and clasps his big hands around your ankles.

“Are you achin’, sweetie? Do you want me to kiss your sweet pussy?”

“Yes, Joel, please, ye—”, he doesn’t let you finish, his warm lips immediately press to your cold wet folds.

A string of your loud moans fill the room after he grabs your hips, throws your thighs on his shoulders and begins eating you out. He starts with open mouth kisses to your inner thighs, slowly moves to your sopping center and licks a path from your hole to your pulsating clit. He gently sucks it into his mouth and you clench your fist in his curly graying hair, your pussy gushing onto his chin. Joel feels your wetness on his skin and lowers his mouth to drink everything you're offering him, like it’s nectar of the gods itself.

“Sweet—sweet little pussy—mine—ya mine, baby,” he mumbles and his words vibrate against your cunt, making you writhe and whimper, as he’s bringing you higher to the peak.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you whine as his tongue begins a lascivious dance over your clit, his wet hot muscle swirling around it, rubbing it tirelessly and it’s not long until you cry out into your palm and shake, twitch, jerk against the chair, against Joel’s unyielding lips, still caressing you through the hard climax.

You sigh happily when your body relaxes, and completely drunk on endorphins, with half-lidded eyes, see Joel’s face looking up at you from between your thighs. His gaze is lustful, chin glistening with your slick, and you sit up to kiss the man who has just rocked your world.

Joel reaches up to you and you meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss lets you taste the tang of your juices on his tongue, and you hum at the delicious mixture of him and you.

“Need you, baby— need you now,” Joel murmurs against your lips. Eager as well you get up and lead him to the bed.

With impatient hands he starts unbuttoning his shirt, but you stop him.

“Let me, Joel, please,” you ask, your eyes pleading, and he grants your wish. You take his flannel off and then his undershirt. You know that he’s desperate to be inside you yet you can’t help but to glide your palms over the expense of his hairy chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength of his body, so big and broad and all yours. You unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down together with his boxers.

Joel’s chest is heaving as you both look down at his hard cock, standing proudly at attention.

You bite your lip and your eyes gloss over. It’s gorgeous. You wish you could kiss it all over, take it in your mouth, let him spill his hot cum on your waiting tongue. No, he needs your warm wet pussy.

You wrap your hand around his stiffness and Joel moans, hurriedly trying to hide the sound with a fake cough.

“No, please,” you whisper, placing your palm on his chest. “I love hearing how good you feel.”

Joel slithers his arm around you and cups your butt, pulling you closer to him, and his wet tip pokes your lower belly.

“YOU make me feel good. I can never get enough of you,” he whispers in your ear and you melt under the heat of his naked body against yours, his lips leaving kisses along your neck.

“Wanna ride you,” your murmur tells him.

Joel lies down on your bed and you straddle his thighs and take his cock in your hand before lifting your hips and hovering over it. He’s still training your pussy to take him and his big cock is still a challenge for you. You brace your hand on his chest, guide his tip to your entrance, take a deep breath before starting to sink on his member, inch by inch.

Joel shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, dipping it into the mattress.

“Oh—ohhhh—fuckin’—,” a string of pleasured sounds is leaving his open mouth and you follow him, reveling in the sensation of him pushing your walls apart, filling you nicely like no one has ever had.

Finally you’re fully sitting on his cock and he opens his eyes to look down at the place you’re joined, his length completely sheathed inside your cunt.

“Will never get used to it—warm and wet— and so fuckin’ tight. Sorry, baby,” he apologizes for cursing and you reassure him with a hazy smile,

“ ‘s ok. You’re so big inside me, Joel. It’s like I can feel you here.” You put your hand on your chest and he chuckles,

“I ain’t that big, sweetheart. But thank you for the compliment.”

You giggle but the smiles are quickly wiped off your faces when you finally move on his cock. You start riding him, rolling your hips back and forth, smearing your slick over his crotch, and then bounce up and down, alternating your movements.

Joel's hands are gripping your thighs but you need him so much that you take them and hold them up, feeling your connection brighter. Joel’s looking up at you with adoration and piety, taking in your ecstatic expression, your bouncing breasts, your skin, dewy with sweat, your glistening folds, spread around his girthy cock.

“Fuckin’ angel,” he mumbles and shuts his eyes.

“Joel, look at me. Please,” you murmur.

“Can’t, baby— can’t— I’ll come too soon—you’re too sexy.”

“I don’t care. Come. I want your eyes on me.”

He doesn’t deny you and soon he’s drinking the sight of you fucking him with full gulps.

You don’t give him any respite when you place his hands on your breasts and he begins kneading them, twitching your perky nipples. Yours meanwhile travel back, as you turn slightly and find his balls under your moving pussy. You caress them in your palm, one and then the other, then gently tug on the sack.

“Jesus, baby, want me to burst? Oh, yeah—“

You both are moaning, chasing your climaxes with increasing intensity. You tilt your hips a little to press your pulsating clit against the fluff of his pubic hair and grind, grind, grind your pussy over his lower belly. Joel’s cock moving deep inside you, your clit twitching in his coarse hair, all the sensations combined light up your body and when Joel lifts his torso on his elbow and unhinges his jaw to take as much of your breast into his hot mouth as he can, you explode with a loud cry.

He’s sucking and licking your tit as you bury your nose in his soft hair and your pussy starts clamping around his cock. A surge of wetness floods your core and you moan his name desperately, soaking his stiffness.

“I’m here, baby. I gotchu.”

Joel lies back down, plants his feet on the bed and starts thrusting his hips up, plunging his cock deeper into your squirting pussy.

“Take it—take it—,” he grunts through gritted teeth, fingers digging into your soft thighs as he’s fucking you, your walls squeezing him hard, until he roars and begins spurting his cum inside you, adding to the ocean of ecstasy already filling your core. The squelching of his and your cum mixes with your moans, the music of your unity.

As soon as he stops twitching inside you, you fall on his chest and you both relax, catching your breaths, his cock slowly softening inside you.

The sweat on your skin soon cools down and you shiver.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel coos and, still staying under you, covers your back with a bedspread.

You get warm and almost fall asleep, lulled by his steady breathing, but Joel squeezes you and whispers against your temple,

“Got something for ya.”

He moves you off him, and you shift on the bed, after feeling a wet spot under you. It’s not the first time you squirted with Joel but it still fascinates you what he can do to your body.

Meanwhile Joel gets off the bed, picks up his jeans off the floor and shoves his hand into a pocket.

He retrieves something and sits back down next to you.

You sit up, not bothering to cover your naked breasts, and crane your neck to see what he’s got in his hands. It turns out to be a long velvet box.

“Wanted to give it to you next week. For one month anniversary. But you said that you’d wanted to have something of me. So —ehm—here.”

You see a soft blush bloom on his cheeks as he speaks and butterflies dance in your belly at how cute and sweet he is. He opens the box and with two thick fingers pulls out a gold necklace. He holds the ends of it and you see a pendant hanging on it- a little heart.

You gasp at the surprise and then squeal, throwing your arms around his neck. Joel chuckles and asks you to turn around so he could put it on.

You look down at the beautiful gift, lift the heart and press it to your lips.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper and then hurry off the bed.

You grab your Polaroid camera where Joel has left it and direct it at yourself. You return to Joel with another photo in your hand - a close up of your neck and Joel’s present, resting on the top of your chest.

“Here. Your wallet photo,” you smile, handing it to your lover. “Only you know it’s me. We can keep our secret.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he croaks with his eyes sparkling and pulls you in for a kiss.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST || more soft Joel - Good Girl || Sweet Cherry

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye

[luveline]

hello might i ask for sassy badass reckless reader who is the #1 leading cause of aaron's gray hairs pls 🤞🏻 he is SO exasperated with her like he is TIRED™ but also tweaking bcs he's horrendously down bad for her he's gna throw up

Good morning. I hope you slept well, honey. Can you come to work early, say 6.10AM? I’d like to see you and talk about something in person. 

You squint at the text that’s just come through. Another follows as you’re finishing, lighting the dark of your room.

I love you. Sorry, I know you don’t like when I forget to tell you in the mornings. 

Your own response is sent without propriety. I love you too handsome. 6.10 is not gonna work.

Can you make an effort for me? he asks. 

You do your very best. 

“It’s almost seven,” Hotch says when you finally get there that morning, his frown audible and plain to see. 

You hold up the bag of sugar donuts you’d purchased from the truck on the square just outside of Quantico’s endless parking lots. “Necessary delay.” 

“Unnecessary. I asked you nicely to come early and you’re barely on time,” he grumbles. 

How adorable. You put the bag of donuts on the desk and ignore the paperwork laid out waiting for you in favour of his side of the desk. He smells like cedar, his suit sleeve starched under your hand. You lean back against the lip of his desk and pretend you hadn’t been thinking about climbing into his lap —he’s formidable and lovely and that’s the best combination for lounging about atop someone, especially when that someone is very good at pressing you backwards, and better at kissing your neck. 

He knows what you’re thinking. “You’ve woken up in a mood,” he murmurs. 

“A good one,” you promise. 

You take his coffee and steal a sip. Hotch, resigned, lays a hand on your thigh. “I have important things to talk about, you know? I thought I made that clear this morning.” 

“You made a couple of things clear.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I…” He tilts his head to the side. “Like I’ve been sending you dirty texts or photos.” 

“Is that an option? I don’t think I’ve subscribed to those emails.” 

“You make me out to be this salacious lark–”

“Aaron, I don’t do anything of the sort.” You can hardly hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry I implied you were sexting me, okay? I wish you had been.” He sighs a long-suffering sigh as you carry on. “But you were very formal. I’ll be sure to tell HR the same thing.” 

His hand slips between your thighs. Nowhere it shouldn’t be, just trapped between soft flesh. “Don’t tell HR anything.” 

His coffee is lukewarm and unsweetened on your tongue. Would it kill your uptight love to add just a dash of cream and sugar? Wrinkling your nose, you set aside the mug and press your mildly heated hand to his cheek. Just quickly, brushing a thumb up to the skin below his eye before you let it fall. “Tell me what you wanted me to come in early for. And, for the record, I’m sorry for not trying to get here before, just I didn’t sleep well, and my neck hurt too much to rush.” 

He looks like he wants to ignore your apology. He doesn’t ask you for much, and showing up when he’d wanted you to would’ve been the kinder thing to do —he can be annoyed as both boss or boyfriend. 

But he doesn’t have it in him. 

“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asks softly. 

“Thinking too much about my nice boyfriend.” 

“Really?” 

You slouch a little. Cover his hand where it rests between your legs. “I don’t know. It was really hot, and my mattress is getting old, probably.” 

He ushers you down for a sympathetic kiss. He’s always so sorry to hear about your minor ailments, he must like you too much. 

You attempt to crawl into his lap, curling an arm behind his head. He, disgruntled and yet far from reluctant, lets you take a seat. 

[suiana]

(yandere! zombie x gn! survivor reader) (im such a youtube shorts kid bruh this idea came to me because of a video i watched)

did you know that zombies retain their habits from when they were humans?

well you sure as hell do now, because why is your annoying neighbour still following you around?? he's literally fucking rotting???

"shoo! go away!"

you hiss at him, shooting a rubber band at him before quickly climbing up a tree. phew, you wouldn't be bothered by him from here. it's been like this for a few days now, your undead neighbour following you around as you did your best to survive in this ruined world.

you never really liked him, your neighbour that is. he's always been that one weird guy that keeps annoying you ever since he moved in. constantly knocking on your door and asking to have meals together, to getting to and from work at the same times as you... you're so sure that he was stalking you. how could it ever be a coincidence that he just somehow knew when you were going out and coming back from work?

but now you wouldn't ever know and it's not like you wanted to know anyway. ignorance is bliss after all. oh! he's also very stubborn and it's quite apparent in his zombie form.

"bweh."

"go away!"

the zombie hits at the tree you were sitting down on as he looks up at you with what seemed to be puppydog eyes. you could only grimace at the sight before checking through your supplies. shit, you're running out of stuff.

"ugh... i'll need to scavenge for food-"

"guh!"

you raise an eyebrow at your undead admirer before humming. right, you suppose it isn't that bad that you have him around... he gives you stuff that's useful and scares away other mobs (you think he eats them if they get too close to you). you would've actually coddled him like a dog if he wasn't trying to get into your pants or kiss you every second.

"thanks."

you lean forward and snatch the bad of chips from his rotting hands before stuffing it into your bag. mn, you could probably have that for your lunch and dinner tomorrow.

"let's see... i need to find a good place to sleep tonight."

"bwa! buh beh!"

your zombie immediately starts scratching at the tree bark before jutting his lower lip. huh...

"no, i'm not sleeping in your apartment."

"gah!"

you think you're starting to understand zombie language because why are you holding full on conversations with him??

"don't give me that face. you know our apartment complex is riddled with zombies. i don't want to be turned."

"kh... gur! rh..."

"you think i'm trusting you? i swear i saw our old neighbour lurking around there and he was an olympic sprinter."

you shake your finger at the zombie before sighing softly. why did this apocalypse have to happen? things were going great for you before this. you just had a raise and you were so close to landing a date with your hot boss!

if you didn't know any better you'd have thought that your little zombie admirer was the one who kickstarted this zombie apocalypse because of his jealousy. what did he work as before he turned? a scientist?

"tn... jhn... ngh..."

"don't act all sassy with me right now. it's not like i want to sleep in your place to begin with. you'd probably lock me in there with you and i'd be trapped."

"bah!"

rolling your eyes at the sassy undead man, you rest against the trunk of the tree and shut your eyes. might as well get some rest before setting off again.

"i'm going to rest now. help me keep an eye out."

"kah kah. jah?"

"no, i won't kiss you. and no, i most certainly won't reward you with myself. you're rotting, damnit! how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"ui..."

what in the sassy zombie apocalypse have you gotten yourself into?

[heart-eyed-love]

Your Stupid Little Fucker

Summary | Eddie teases you about a said stuffed animals that turns out you don't have anymore and he takes that to heart.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to- Lovers (eventually), Cursing…

Word Count | 1.3k

An | Soooo, I kinda want to make series of oneshots and drabbles and what not for a bestfriend!eddie and bestfriend!reader, so i think this will be my first installment of that… and i’ll write stuff for the timeline that will be put out, out of order but i’ll make a masterlist so everything can be ordered correctly @_@ (which is also heavily inspired by the way wheels-of-despair sets up her amazing evil woman series)

“And you still sleep with it?” Jeff laughs as he questions Gareth, whose face only seems to be getting redder. But you’re not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or building anger.

“No, I don’t sleep with it, Asshole.” Gareth glares over at the boy, “Just because I still have it doesn’t mean I sleep with it.” 

“Then why do you still have it?” Grant questions with a grin. As he lifted the stuffed animal off of Gareth's bed as he seemed to inspect it.

Gareth was 100% not enjoying the interrogation on the stuffed rabbit that he had had since he was a baby. If he had known that everyone would have ended up in his room after band practice he would’ve hidden the ratty old thing.

“My mom is making me keep it.” It was a lie, and obvious one at that, but just in time Eddie cut in. Ultimately it wasn’t to benefit Gareth, but rather to put you on the spot.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man. (Y/n) still sleeps with one too!” He looks over to you with a smirk, teasing tone he knows will piss you off. And he’s proud to be met with a glare already staring back at him.

“No, I don’t.” The other boys giggle, but Gareth feels your pain so he stays quiet.

“So, you don’t still sleep with that stuffed bat?” He eggs you on.

Ah. The stuffed bat. One that Eddie himself had so proudly won for you back in your freshman year. He was pleasantly surprised with himself that night at the fair, an “athletic” game that involved him throwing? And actually successfully knocking down all the pins? Yeah, he was pretty stoked, he was able to pull that off on the first try. If he had missed those with you standing next to him that experience would have been all too humbling.

But no, he had successfully won you a prize. A stuffed bat he picked, and he turned to you with an overly cocky smile for a guy who had gotten lucky with his shots.

But the bat seemed fitting, something he’d selfishly hoped you would see and immediately think of him.

“For me?” You ask with a smirk as he hands the plush over to you.

“Yeah, well I don’t have much use for it…” He’s trying to act all cool about it, but he knows he only even purchased tickets to play that game for you.

“Well, thank you, kind sir.” You smile up at him.

“Yeah, whatever, dork.” He shoves your head playfully and turns away before the slight redness of his cheeks can be noticed by you.

To say the least, that night was a night both of you remembered fondly. One of your favorite memories is Eddie gifting you that stuffed bat, and now he’s using it to try to embarrass you?

“No, I actually don’t, Eddie. I got rid of that thing.” Lie, big lie. It currently sat smack dap next to the pillow you slept on but you weren’t going to admit that. It probably wasn’t the best thing to lie about but right now, you didn’t care, he was trying to embarrass you and you weren’t going to let him get the satisfaction.

But why should you be embarrassed? Is it weird that you kept it after all this time? Is it weird that you feel so attached to it because Eddie gave it to you?

But in the slight blinded anger you felt, the fall of Eddie’s cheeky, teasing attitude had gone unnoticed by you. 

“You got rid of it?”

“Yeah, kinda just outgrew it I guess.” He watches you shrug like it’s nothing, like he had won that thing especially for you.

And truthfully, as Eddie thought back to it he couldn’t actually recall if it had been in your room the last time he went in there, he really just couldn’t remember. 

Thankfully for you though, cause yeah, it was still in there then too.

The boys have already moved on to another subject, and Jeff and Grant recklessly went through Gareth's comics as he screeched at them to be careful snatching it away from Grant. You walk past Eddie and over to the boys, taking your own time to look through the piles, trying to forget lying directly to Eddie’s face.

He stood moderately frozen at the news you just broke to him, but he pulled himself out of it and rejoins the groups, staying rather quiet as he went through the comics.

Staying way quieter than Eddie normally would all the way until pulling back up to your house that evening. And you finally crack…

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a brow raised in confusion as you looked over at the boy. 

“Nothing, wrong. Why would something be wrong?”

“Cause you’re barely talking… and while I do love this peace and quiet…” you tease but to no avail, “it’s not like you…”

“Did you actually get rid of it?” He turns to you suddenly, and you’re partially surprised by the harsh tone.

“What?” You know exactly what but you don’t know how to get into this right now.

“Did you actually get rid of it? Like did you give it away or did you just throw it in the garage or something?” His tone becomes more annoyed by the second, and you actually fear you might have made him mad. Which wasn't what you had even wanted in the first place, you just wanted him off your back.

“I never said-“ But he’s quick to cut you off.

“Because honestly it’s kinda shitty if you did either way.”

Now you’re rolling your eyes and he’s widening his. Why don’t you care about this?

Why isn’t he letting you speak? Instead of even trying to explain you just slide out of the van as Eddie watches with furrowed brows. 

Were you actually walking away from him right now?

“Are you coming?” You ask over your shoulder as you approach your front door, and you stand there as you watch Eddie scrambling to turn his van off and hop out to meet you at the door.

You both walk to your bedroom silently, and Eddie trails behind you kind of confused but ultimately letting this play out. And as you open your bedroom door you walk a few feet in and you point to the soft plush sitting next to your pillow.

“Where it literally sits every single time you come over, where it sits every single day. I don’t know how you actually believed me.”

“Why did you lie…?” He asks softly.

“Cause you were obviously trying to embarrass me for still having it.”

“What? No! I was just messing around, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad about it, (Y/n)…” He tries to defend, “Sorry… I’m glad you still have it, relieved actually.”

“Yeah, Well no shit, I thought you were about to start crying in the van…” You tease, lightening the moment.

“I was not about to cry.” He glares, “It’d just be pretty rude, considering I almost threw my back out trying to win that stupid thing for you.”

“Almost threw your back out?!” You cackle out at his dramatics, “Eddie, the pins weren’t even 10 feet away from you.”

“Yeah, I put my athletic abilities to the test for you and this is the thanks I get?” You pull fingers into quotes as he mentions his athletic abilities, and he rolls his eyes at you.

“You did all that just for me?” You tease with a smirk, “You really won that for me?” 

“Yeah, whatever. Thought it would be nice.” He rolls his eyes again and plops onto your bed, purposely knocking the stuffed bat off your bed, causing you to let out an audible gasp.

“Oh my Gosh, you did not just do that!” You screech as you dramatically pick him up and cradle him to your chest with faux shock.

“What? That stupid fuckers causing a lot of drama.” He smiles playfully.

“Yeah, well, he’s my stupid fucker.” You say setting the bat back down in its rightful spot. Smiling down at Eddie as you do.

And he can’t help but smile back. 

God, he hopes he can be your stupid fucker too.

[darknight3904]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘐𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.1𝘬

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 / 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The next two weeks following your rooftop conversation with Logan were odd ones. The apartment is calmer than normal as the two of you fall into a rhythm with each other. Usually, that rhythm was in silence, but it was still a rhythm.

Logan, like the freak of nature he was, always got up before anyone else and would start a pot of coffee. Eventually, you'd show up, still groggy and clad in pajamas for him to hand you a piping hot mug with just the right amount of sugar and milk. It had taken him two days to figure out exactly how you liked your coffee.

The two of you would usually then eat breakfast, and then depending on the day, you'd go off to work, or on your days off, you'd eat breakfast with him while the TV ran in the background.

During this time, you learned a few things about this new version of Logan the universe has gifted you. For example, if he was reading a book, every few pages, he'd lick the tip of his finger to turn a page. Another would be how he tapped his foot to the beat of a song if he liked it. You presumed Logan was also picking up on the little ticks that you performed as you lived your life. Of course, you didn't ask him if he was.

Sure, these weeks had been peaceful, but at the same time wildly aggravating. It was as though nearly all of your anger for the man that was currently loudly slurping cereal from his bowl, had disappeared in a puff of smoke. You had stolen so many glances at him over the past few days, hoping you might find some anger lingering in your soul for the bearded hunk of muscle yet, you always came up empty.

It was Wade who first pointed out to you that you were running low on hatred.

"You two are totally best buds, or should I say best bubs now?"

"We are not." You rolled your eyes as you handed him his lunch that he had forgotten at the apartment.

"Sure ya are. Let me know when the wedding bells chime, and I'll dust off my flower girl dress.

Wade was so full of shit it was practically leaking out of his ears.

Logan was a mystery to you. To outsiders (Wade) he was like a mean old barn cat. Quick to give a rebuttal and swat whatever kind words the annoying man had to say. Then, as if his brain was surgically removed and recalibrated, he'd turn into the biggest softie and start flirting with you.

You weren't dumb. You could see that he was into you from a million miles away. It made sense, considering the positive relationship he had with you in his universe. Well, before he fucked it up that is. What you didn't get is why he was so invested after all these months. You had been so cold and rude to him, hell, you had blown off his leg once in an argument. Yet, the past two weeks had been a whirlwind of boyish charm and little glances he probably thought you didn't notice. It was downright annoying how deep he was under your skin.

The worst part of it all was the fear that was eating you alive. Sure, the daylight chased it away and you rarely thought about it when you were actually with him. But late at night, when Laura was fast asleep, fear was all you felt. You were terrified of it, falling in love with him again. You couldn't do it again. And yet, here you sat, staring at that handsome face again like none of it had even happened in the first place.

"What're you doing today?" Logan asks

"I was thinking about starting Gilmore Girls. Or maybe Gossip Girl..." You say, "I need a new show to watch."

"Gossip Girl for sure." Wade says, standing at the microwave, watching his breakfast burrito heat up, "That Serena is the hottest person I've ever seen."

"Aren't you and Vanessa back together?" You ask

"Am I not allowed to appreciate other hot people in this world? Don't worry about it, I'll tell Blake about this later. Clearly, you don't find her attractive."

You scoff, only a moron would think Blake Lively wasn't attractive.

"Anyway, you two are not allowed to camp in the living room and binge-watch whatever show you had your eyes set on." Wade declares

"And why is that?" Logan asks, "Thought this was a free country?"

"Oh, it is. And that's why we are taking a trip to Coney Island today. Vanessa got free tickets from her work and we are all invited." Wade grins

You glance at Logan who already is looking at you, his eyes practically asking what your opinions were on this.

"Alright, fine. But you're not allowed to peer pressure me into any rides I don't want to go on." You point at Wade

"Deal." He grins, "Now go wake up Laura. I'd do it, but last time I woke her she stabbed both my eyeballs in and took that little foot knife of hers to my balls."

"Sounds like someone I know." You tease, gently kicking Logan's shin under the table

"I've never done that to you." He says looking at you confused.

"Um hello, what about me? Do I not have feelings? Did the night in the Honda Oddessy mean nothing to you?" Wade gasps dramatically

"No, It didn't."

"You insensitive bastard! I'm telling my therapist about you!"

Coney Island's boardwalk is crowded despite the cooler fall weather. You walk along in between Laura and Logan, observing the many different kinds of people that flock to the tourist trap. In front of you, Wade's toupee is shiner than normal as he walks hand in hand with Vanessa.

"Do you think he shampooed that thing before seeing her today?" Laura asked on your left

"Oh definitely." You reply

"Probably deep conditioned too. A hair mask or two." Logan chimed in from your right

"How do you know what a deep condition is? Or a hair mask?" You ask, bewildered

"When you've been alive for two hundred years, you pick up on things, bub." He says

"You've done a hair mask before, haven't you?" Laura eyed him suspiciously

"No," Logan said sheepishly

"You're so full of shit." She laughed

You lean over to whisper in her ear, "Bet he's gotten a blowout before too."

"You two know I can hear you, right?" Logan scowls

"You're too easy to pick on." You point out, patting his back

"Can you two stop eye fucking and hurry it up? I want to get in line for the Cyclone before it gets too long!" Wade groans

"Do you think we're being rude by leaving Al at home?" You ask as you stand next to Logan in line

"I'm pretty sure Wade left some cocaine out and put Jeopardy on for her. Besides, what would she even do here?" Logan says looking around at the games and rides.

"True. She's probably eating chips on the couch getting crumbs all over the cushions again." You sigh, thinking of all the times you've vacuumed the couch.

The line goes by surprisingly quick and before you know it, the loud clicking of the coaster's tracks fills your ears as you glance over the side of the cart at the people that looked like ants from so high up. Beside you, you're surprised to see Logan looking rather light-headed.

"Are you okay?" You ask, surprised at his obvious fear.

"Fine." He says, in a short tone you're not used to hearing.

You glance down at the lap bar, which he seems to be holding onto like it's going to unlatch at any second.

"You seem tense." You say

"I'm fine." He growls

"Peanut, don't tell me you're scared back there!" Wade calls over his shoulder from the cart in front of you, "This coaster is a piece of history! I bet Cap rode this when he was still skinny!"

"Shut up." Logan commands

The loud click, signifying you have reached the top of the drop has Logan silent. The loud screams of strangers reach your ears as the coaster drops. You can hear Wade and Vanessa, laughing and yelling in joy as the 85 foot drop commences.

"Holy shit!"

Logan's loud curse beside you has you looking over at him. He truly looked terrified. The ride continues and you try to keep yourself from laughing at Logan, whose knuckles are turning white as he grips the restraint.

A fast turn has you lifting slightly out of your seat, and the sound of screeching metal reaches your ears. On your right, Logan's claws have come out, his eyes still squeezed shut.

The ride begins to slow and you slowly reach out, placing your hand over Logan's

"It's over." You say to him

His eyes blink open and he looks over at you and then down to your hand that rests carefully ontop of his. As you roll back into the loading dock, his claws retract, out of sight before someone can point and stare.

"You survived." You joke as you unbuckle yourself

"Barely." He huffs as he steps out of the cart

"See? It wasn't that bad." Wade smiles, hooking Vanessa's arm in his. "Fun right?"

"That's not the word I'm thinking of," Logan says as he sticks close to you

"We should go again," Laura says as you exit the ride

You can't help but notice that Logan looks a bit green as you walk the boardwalk so when Wade suggests the next high-thrill coaster, you decide to stay on the ground with him.

"You don't have to sit with me," Logan says as the two of you get comfortable on a wooden bench

"Just between you and me, that ride Wade is waiting for is insane. I'd never step foot on it." You admit with a smile

"If he goes flying out of the restraints, I hope someone gets it on camera," Logan says

You nod in agreement, deciding it would indeed be a funny image.

Logan still seems rather distant so You glance around your surroundings wondering if there's any way to distract from his recent "near death" experience. Your eyes land on a soft pretzel cart.

"Wait here." You say, gently tapping his thigh with your hand

Two soft pretzels and a couple of overpriced sodas later. you're doing your best to cheer up The Wolverine, who apparently hates thrill rides.

"Want to walk around some more? They're gonna be waiting for at least another hour." He asks

"How'd you eat so quickly?" You ask, men it was like they inhaled their food. Who was he? Kirby?

"Not my fault you're slow." He shrugs

You polish off your food and suggest a walk along the beach, tired of hearing screaming children and the loud noise of rides.

The sun is beginning to set as you kick off your shoes and let the cold water of the Atlantic wash over your feet.

"Kind of cold," Logan comments as he watches the water lap over his feet

"Don't be a baby." You brush him off as the two of you walk along where the waves meet the sand.

Pale orange paints the sky beautifully as you walk in silence, listening to the waves crash and the seagulls squawk. Cool wind messes with your hair as you steal glances at Logan. At one point, you catch him doing the same and you feel your face heat up, turning your gaze to your sandy feet.

You can't say it, or rather won't, but he's pretty like this. Dark blue jeans, paired with a flannel and black leather jacket. You can even see a bit of his chest hair peaking out from the top button of the flannel being undone.

"This is the longest you've gone without insulting me." He points out

"You want me to insult you?" You ask

"No." He says, "Just pointing it out."

You roll your eyes but can't help finding it a bit endearing that he picked up on that.

"You like the beach?" He asks, surveying the picturesque scenery.

"I do." You sigh, "I think I like the forest more though. A rainy day in a house with the woods in my backyard? The way the snow lines the trees in the winter? Those are my favorite."

Logan nods and his hand brushes yours. You pretend not to notice it, the way his skin sends tingles up your spine as the two of you walk along.

"What about you? You like the beach?" You ask

"It's alright. I don't like all the flying rats that steal your food." He says, motioning to the orange sky.

"You mean seagulls?" You ask

"Isn't that what I just said?"

You snort an unladylike laugh and slap your hand over your mouth, fully mortified that just happened.

Logan gives you a mischievous look as you open your mouth to apologize.

"Ever play tag?" He grins

You're not sure if he's two hundred or two as he taps your arm and dashes off, declaring that you're "it". You follow him with a groan, forcing your legs to run after him.

"Logan!" You yell as he puts distance between the two of you, the orange from the last bits of today's sun illuminating him.

There was no way you were catching him like this so, you focus your mind on him. Your brain easily becomes in tune he way his heart quickly beat to pump blood to his legs and arms as he ran. Got him.

Logan lets out a groan of frustration as you approach him, frozen to the sand under your command.

"Looks like you're it now." You say, tapping his shoulder

"This is cheating." He says, "You can't use your powers for this."

"No one is stopping you from using yours." You say

"What would I do? Cut you in half?" He asks

He never gets his answer as you jog off, putting some distance between the two of you before letting him move again. You think you might have a bit of a chance to run further as you move along. Perhaps he isn't as fast as you thought he was,

Big arms startle you when they wrap around your waist, lifting you up. Ocean water splashes onto your pants as you shriek in fear while Logan laughs.

"Looks like you're it again, hon." He says into your ear, spinning you around

"Put me down." You laugh

"I think we should go further into the water, actually." Logan declares

You push at his arms which are like steel as he takes a few steps forward so the water is up to his shins.

"Logan these are new jeans!" You gasp, lying to see if he'll let you go That ocean water was freezing, no way was he going to dunk you in there.

"We have a washer."

His deep voice sends a shot of electricity down your spine as his beard tickles your neck from behind.

"Yeah! Drown her!"

Wade's loud voice carries across the beach as Logan's grip loosens. You push yourself away from him, breathless and dizzy with excitement. The cold water comes up and splashes onto your pants anyway and you grumble a bit, thinking of how cold they'll be on the trip home.

Your foul mood is chased away as Logan leans down to your ear and whispers, "We should drown him, get some peace and quiet back home."

"I'll hold him down." You joke

"Don't give me ideas." Logan grins

As the two of you walk up the beach, you don't miss the way Laura is whispering to Vanessa, no doubt about you and Logan.

The rest of the night is spent with laughter and some of the unhealthiest food you've had in a while. You drag Logan onto the Tilt-a-Whirl, and then the Scrambler, and somehow pull him onto the Teacups, spinning the cup until both of you are dizzy beyond compare. Despite his negative attitude about it all, you can tell he enjoyed the rides, he was just too proud to admit it in front of Wade.

As for Wade, in his words, he was ascending to God level, and someone needed to call Thor and Loki because Asgard needed him. The source of his new ego? He had somehow managed to win three prizes from one of those usually rigged games and now he, Vanessa, and Laura all had matching stuffed dinosaurs.

Unfortunately for Logan, tonight was not his night for the games and he had just lost another five bucks to some rigged ring toss.

"You should probably forget it, Peanut. I'm on a whole different level than you."

Wade's words were certainly under the gruff man's skin as he slapped another five onto the counter, clearly not interested in being outdone.

"Is this their version of comparing dick sizes?" Vanessa asked, tossing an arm around your shoulders as Laura snickered at her joke.

"I'm pretty sure they've already done that." You laugh

You watch as Wade dances around Logan, saying things to him to get him to screw up. If this was your living room, Wade would've been missing a few limbs by now.

One loud shut the fuck up from Logan and a few lucky tosses as well, the worker is unenthusiastically proclaiming his win. Before you know it, a stuffed dolphin is being handed to you by Logan who seems overly smug about his win.

You don't want to admit that he probably spent triple what the toy was worth, so instead you thank him earnestly and ask him for an idea for a name.

"I dunno...what about...Frank?" He says

"You just spent like 30 bucks and you want to name him Frank?" You laugh

"I'm not good at naming shit," Logan grumbles, staring at his feet

"I'm joking." You smile, nudging him with your elbow so he looks at you again," Frank is perfect."

"Frank Howlett." Wade sighs shoving himself in the middle of you and Logan and tossing his arms around both of you, "What a cute family you are! Call me when the baptism planning starts! I want to be the Godfather."

Logan shrugs Wade's arm off his shoulders and pushes him away from the both of you.

"You're an annoying prick."

"Keep degrading me, it's my favorite form of foreplay."

"Ignore him, let's go on the bumper cars." You advise, pointing at the ride that's a few yards away.

You swallow back that fear that often plagues your mind and heart and daringly link your arm around Logan's. He quickly looks down at you and smiles a bit as you pull him off in the direction of the ride.

"Don't take it personally, buddy." Vanessa says, rubbing a hand up and down Wade's back, "You're just not his type."

"First of all, I'm everyone's type," Wade said, turning to catch Laura off guard with a boop to the nose,

"Secondly, when are these two motherfuckers going to kiss? Seriously it's been like five chapters and they're still dancing around like it's the fucking homecoming dance in freshman year!"

"C'mon, let's go ride the bumper cars," Vanessa says, pulling him along, Laura close behind.

"I'm serious! This slow burn can't slow burn much longer, I'll light my toupee on fire and toss it at this writer's fucking cat if something doesn't happen soon!"

Chapter Six

I've never been to Coney Island. So no one is allowed to clock me if I got stuff wrong.

here are some pics of my cat. Don't worry I'm going to keep her safe from Wade and his flaming toupee:

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[genshin-scenarios]

spiderverse —!

Summary: Spider-verse AUs with the genshin guys! Each features a reader in a different role. There will be references to ‘Into the Spiderverse’ and other renditions of spiderman (vaguely).

Characters: Kinich, Heizou, Tighnari-Cyno, Venti, Wriothesley, Lyney

Kinich

By day, Kinich is a recluse who spends the better half of his free time volunteering at the local animal reserve. It’s also where he got bitten by a radioactive spider, and you can probably guess what happened next.

Ajaw is a unique phenomenon — a ‘Venom-like’ symbiote who latches specifically to technology. After Kinich managed to seal him away in a random cell phone, Ajaw has made a deal with the hero to become an assistant of sorts. If you listen carefully, you almost always hear a second voice coming out of Spiderman’s mask — Ajaw, trying to get Kinich to choose violence, while Kinich kicks him off the server for being a distraction.

However, times when they do work together are one of the most terrifying things anyone can see. Kinich’s spidersuit is engulfed in Ajaw’s power, and every lunge and strike is more destructive than the last. Often, Ajaw tries to overpower Kinich and take over his vessel, but Kinich has more than a few safety precautions to prevent the symbiote from possessing him fully. 

You’re a spiderhero from another universe, much like the situation in ITSV (except it’s only the two of you)! Some sort of interdimensional portal has stranded you in Kinich’s world, and you were quick to track him down when he was on shift at the animal reserve one day, appearing out of nowhere and gaining his suspicion. The night ended swiftly, with you escaping and leaving a thousand questions in his head, while the building’s alarms blared deafeningly, trying and failing to locate the intruder that has since disappeared into the shadows.

It’s a shortlived game of cat and mouse, considering how you wanted to get Kinich’s help in figuring out how to get home. One thing leads to another, and your secretive interactions admittedly become a large part of Kinich’s daily life. When he realises that you’re destined to leave his world to protect your own one day, Kinich is left with a feeling that’s foreign to him: gaping loneliness, sitting next to an empty spot on the rooftop that used to be yours. 

It’s not just the fact that you understand him on a level that most others never would — but having something to look forward to when he was Spiderman was such a saving grace. Swooping past skyscrapers alongside you, going on impromptu missions (dates), and revelling at how normal you look without your mask on. He recognises the lilt in your voice, the scrunch of your brow, and knows deep down that there's no way to undo how your existence has been engraved into him. 

…And deep down, he already feels the stab of how hollow it will feel, when those who’ve seen you two hanging out together inevitably ask where you’ve gone. And all he can say is that you’ve moved back to your city with your family, knowing there was no way for any of them to find you. 

Heizou

Shikanoin Heizou is a talented detective in Inazuma’s capital city, while Spiderman is a local hero. One works with the law while the other is sometimes considered a vigilante, but as far as Heizou is concerned, there was nothing wrong with using different methods to solve a case. So long as the outcome was the ideal, or best possible, he didn’t have the luxury of beating himself up over other ‘what ifs’ and ‘what can I do better’s.

Besides, Shikanoin Heizou was a genius detective, and with that came a high amount of success rates in his civilian profile. Spiderman, on the other hand, represents the parts of justice that sometimes can never be controlled — a criminal who was about to surrender, only to have been attacked by a third-party cop. A villain who realised the error of his ways and ended his life to spare the city, and the family Heizou reminded him still lived within it. 

…A friend who was stealing for the wrong reasons, and reached a tragic end. There are many ugly conclusions to the cases Heizou tackles, but all he can do is push on. While being Spiderman places more responsibility in his hands, it was better than not being able to do anything.

And even at times where Heizou’s morale is at an all time low, he can at least rely on your presence to make his days brighter. You’re a reporter who likes to visit him for psychological support and gossip — and while he’d never say it aloud, everyone with eyes can tell that you’re his favourite media staff. He gives you more intel and hints to your own cases than he does with anyone else, and even assists you as Spiderman from time to time.

Heizou isn’t one to place his trust in others easily, but when you defended ‘the detective Heizou’ during a run-in with ‘Spiderman’, who’d criticised the police’s slow progress on a large case, it was a little hard not to feel endeared. Heizou still remembers the frown etched into your face as you told him that the detectives were doing all they could. And to cooperate with them himself if he was so confident.

It’s an odd situation for sure, to see you acting wary with his hero-persona yet so warm and caring towards his civilian self. Regardless, Heizou’s main worry now is keeping you safe within a climate of risky investigations and volatile third-parties. So long as you place your faith in him, he’ll do everything he can to defend you in turn.

Tighnari-Cyno

Yes, this is a Tighnari x Reader x Cyno situation! 

Tighnari and Cyno are the two spidermen of Sumeru — they work together on a reluctant basis, since they are unaware of each other’s real identities. Not to mention that Tighnari (Vulpes) is more outspoken and sharp-tongued in his hero persona, while Cyno (Lupus) is endlessly talkative and fond of bad science jokes even at really bad times. 

It’s a little similar to their regular selves, but dialed up within the drama of their hero work. While they get along well enough, Tighnari is endlessly exasperated about Lupus, while Cyno thinks that Vulpes needs to lighten up. (You could say that they aggravate one-another).

It does kill Cyno to not tell his best friends about his secret identity, but he is more than aware of the danger it’ll bring to them all. Besides, it’s not like he’s working alone against these villains, so it’s fine! In fact, this would be a very cool thing to reveal decades into the future, once the danger has passed onto other heroes who adopt the mantel 

This is where you come in as their best friend in school! You can generally be found as a trio, and while everyone’s been ‘busier’ since the year started, you still make time to catch up with one-another about things going on in your lives.

…But, seeing as both Cyno and Tighnari are keeping their spider-selves a secret, they’ve developed different systems to make convincing stories about how they spend their weekend. Tighnari rambles something about collecting new plants to add to his collection, and then has to rush to the florist after he agrees to let you see them after this (he had to jump in through his room window to put everything into place.)

Meanwhile, Cyno keeps droning about some Dungeon and Dragon’s campaign he’s developing for your larger friendgroup to try, when in reality he has nothing written down. It’s mostly just inspired from his daydreaming during patrols as Lupus, which Vulpes always snaps him out of with a whack to the head. 

The kicker, however, is when you become a bystander to a large villain attack one day, and upon the conclusion of it, Tighnari may have accepted a thank-you kiss from you (on the cheek) as Vulpes. It was a stupid decision, seeing as you didn’t even know it was him. But Tighnari was too busy trying to hide his own flushing ears when you were retelling this, to notice the way Cyno’s expression blanked out (he is planning a confrontation with Vulpes as you speak). 

Said confrontation will be one of the few times he sees Vulpes looking uncertain, or embarrassed, which immediately throws Cyno off his initial anger. It makes Cyno question if Vulpes knew who you were in real life, but Cyno forces himself to stamp that curiosity away in favour of their secret identities.

Venti

You and Venti were close friends in Mondstadt, before you had to move to Liyue for family reasons. In reality, you were getting dragged into a different sort of superhero business, within a universe where many other heroes exist (like the MCU with the Avengers and etc).

As such, this AU takes on a more casual route! You’re thankfully not too far away, so Venti can visit you via a train or bus ride. But it’s never the same as when he’d knock on your window after a rough day, not able to tell you it was because of a mission as Barbatos (Spiderman), but you always accepted him with open arms anyways. Him visiting you like that was nothing new, even before he’d become a superhero. And Venti never intended to cut off that connection with you.

But, you never told him about your hero-business either. Which is why when Venti tries to visit your apartment on a whim (just to see how you were doing, and then leaving back to Mondstadt immediately since he was in the area after chasing a villain) — he can’t resist the urge to enter through the window when he sees that no one is there. 

He just wanted to see how different things might be, compared to your old place. He’s getting hit by a web-block of all things at this time, and god, he can’t bring himself to call you up just to listen to his woes, but he misses you.

After what only felt like a few seconds, he hears footsteps at the door. Venti panics, praying to all radioactive spiders in the world that his web-block is not active now and sticks to the ceiling as your parents come in to look for you, only to leave after realising you aren’t there.

He lets out a sigh of relief, soundlessly steps back onto the floor. Only to hear the sound of something charging up to shoot behind his back.

‘Hands on your head. Turn around.’ 

The last thing you thought you’d see as the suited-infiltrator followed your instructions, was to see your best friend’s face. Eyes widened in just as much surprise as you were feeling, before he breaks into a sheepish smile.

‘Venti?’ ‘...Can I put my hands down now?’ ‘What are you doing here?’

And so, Venti ends up staying the night. He hides while you grab two portions of dinner and set it on the desk. Explanations float into the air. You tell him that your family only moved because of a project from Morax Companies. One employing your parents, while another recruited you for a certain task force. 

Lore exchanges were quick to follow. Venti tries to defend his honour when you snort, asking him to reiterate that he was bitten by a radioactive spider. ‘So you can, like—stick to the wall and stuff? Like what I saw in the news?’ 

To make a point, Venti shoots a web to wrap around your wrist, using it to tug you forward towards him. You lose your balance and end up closer than he intended, forcing the room to fall into embarrassed silence. 

This was certainly going to be a long night.

Wriothesley

As the owner of an underground boxing ring, it was safe to say that Wriothesley’s origins as Spiderman was an incredibly tragic, and dramatic one. Forced into a corner as thugs attempted to take over his underground settlement, Wriothesley almost thought he wasn’t going to make it out alive when a stinging pain bit into the back of his neck.

Minutes later, the floor was cleared of hostiles, and order was restored. No one knows who Spiderman is until this day, other than you — the detective who’s always worked with Wriothesley for tough cases and invited him to casual teatime chats.

In his defence, working with you was a matter of course. You helped cover his tracks as Spiderman and the owner of an illegal business. …And you also came from the same orphanage as him. If there’s anyone who understands the need for an anchor within this world of muddled morals and false promises, it was you.

What he doesn’t appreciate, however, is the way you always find yourself in the middle of trouble. It comes with the territory of being the city’s best detective, but sometimes Wriothesley swears you have more enemies than him. More than a few times, he finds himself carrying you in his arms after a rather precarious mission, and you have the cheek to thank him and place a kiss on his lips, blocked by his mask. 

His fighting style does leave him with more injuries than not. Despite how most spiderheroes tend to use agility over strength, Wriothesley never shook off the habit of using punches and brute strength, in order to physically reorient his opponents. It’s less city damage, but the result is more strain on his body, and a silver lining of you exasperatedly scolding him as you treat his wounds. 

‘At this rate, I’m going to have to replace you as Spiderman if you ever get so injured you can’t continue.’

As if he’d ever let that happen. The last thing that’ll ever happen is him leaving your side, after all the hell you’ve been through together. If there was ever a world where you were separated, he knows that every version of himself would cross the multiverse for you.

Lyney

As a reverse, you are the Spiderman while Lyney, Lynette and Freminet are part of the Fatui — not necessarily just a villain organisation, but an antagonistic force with a dangerous set of special agents nevertheless.

You first meet when you’re fighting Lyney and Lynette, in an attempt to put a stop to the Fatui’s nefarious plans. They’re known as the Phantom Twins but are otherwise unnamed — but it's clear from that one interaction that one of said twins were incredibly talkative and taunting, aggravatingly so, whilst the other was a silent blade.

Next, you meet as your civilian selves in school. Neither party suspects anything of the other, but the main attraction comes in the form of Lyney developing a hopeless crush on you. He admires you from afar, and all you know about him is that he’s a friendly, charming classmate. 

Then, by night: chasing the twins across the city’s rooftops, attempting to get back an artefact they stole from the museum. If you don’t get it back soon, that one reporter that hates Spiderman’s guts is going to imply that you were in on the heist too, for sure.

In that moment of distracted thought, Lyney sneaks up from behind you and holds a weapon to your neck. Silently threatening to use it if you muse, and it takes all the self control in your body to not act out when you hear the smirk in his voice. 

‘A little distracted today, are we? While I can empathise with having something on one’s mind, it really shouldn’t interrupt our dance. Unless you were thinking of another partner?’

It’s clear from his tone that his words were meant to purely taunt you. His false sympathy dripped like honey, making you see red.

If you ever got a chance to unmask these two, you already know who you’re going to get revenge on first. (Let’s just hope that this dance of double-lives doesn't interrupt each other too much, at the end of this saga. Perhaps Lyney will find out your secret identity first, and begin to sympathise with you — between his loyalty to the Fatui and his love for you, he surely will be put into a tough spot. And if he doesn’t play his cards right, he might just have to sacrifice himself to the fire to preserve your light.)

[orimuraa]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Gotta make that money make purse - OT7

(synopsis) ✰⋆⁺ when enhypen loves spoiling their girlfriend ༯

ot7 enhypen x fem!reader ✰⋆⁺ fluff ✰⋆⁺ enha is richhh ✰⋆⁺ headcannon ✰⋆⁺ wc 762

✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

he would probably take you on weekly shopping sprees at the very high end stores

wouldn’t let you buy anything with your own money

gets sulky when you do :(

he would give you his card whenever he was away so you could still spend

since he’s a prada ambassador, you have everything prada

he loves smothering you with gifts because this big baby loves you so much !! (pls never leave him)

he gives off penthouse vibes, not mansion idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

overall, he just loves spoiling you so much <3

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

okay here me out

he’s the type to surprise you with a luxury brand gift pretty much everyday

like, this man would be like

“surprise! i got you a chanel bag!”

my man is nawt here to play

he needs to make sure his princess is well taken care of !!!

he has a very very very fancy car that’s probably worth more than my life

and he loves to just take you out on little driving dates to random places to see the view

he’s just so romantic and loves you so so so much

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

my little jakey over here will never be caught not spoiling you

this man absolutely will go broke for you if it means you’re happy

you’ll be like, looking at something for a second longer than usual things and he’ll buy it for you

he saw that you liked a post of a golden retriever on social media, and bam! next day, you’re now owners to a baby golden retriever

he just loves spoiling you because you’re so beautiful and perfect and sweet to him that he wants to be able to pay you back somehow (even tho you told him you don’t need all these gifts)

gifts galore!!

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

he gives off the richest of the richest vibes

he’ll probably be the type to take you out to really expensive dinners and just spoil you so much

you would have an entire closet dedicated to the dresses and clothes he gifts you

he knows your exact style by now so whenever he sees something that reminds him of you, it’s bought

he would make sure to remind you not to spend your own money because why would you do that when you have his money? so silly

he loves you very much and he likes to show that through his gifts sometimes

and the result of that is your room being full of expensive items that have been gifted to you <3

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

he seems like the type to be a very rich person who doesn’t like to show it off too much idk

he would spend his money on super expensive skin care products so you two can have luxury skincare dates

he is superrrrr rich but he likes to spend it on more meaningful items rather then luxury brand stuff

he would make sure the item meant something to you and him but also make sure it was the best one, even if it meant it was hella expensive

he will though occasionally spoil you rotten with a luxury brand item

he cares for you so so so much <333

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

kinda like, sunoo, i feel like he would be more about spending lots of money on more meaningful things then just straight up expensive things

he likes to make things have meaning to it and so whenever you see it, it’s a happy thought

because his girl always deserves to be happy and loved

you two would share a really nice and expensive apartment together and it’s just super cozy

you wouldn’t expect a millionaire to be living there i guess is what i’m saying

but he will not allow you to pay for your own things because why would you when he’s around?

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

okay, unlike the other maknaes, nishimura riki is going full out

he will make sure everyone knows how much he spoils you

he LOVES to shower you in gifts from gucci, prada, chanel, etc. because his favorite hobby is spending money on you <3

in his eyes, you deserve anything and everything <3 he just loves you so so much

he would definitely make sure to spend lots on your hobbies too

even if it’s something small like, for example, collecting sonny angels! he would buy out the entire stock just for you

alllll the furniture in the house is above $1000

have y’all see his $6000 couch in his room??? yeah, that’s what’s in your guy’s shared apartment

he wants you to be appreciated the way you deserve <3

✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡

sooo, new style today! please lmk if you like this style of writing or the other one better cause then it can help me and give me good feedback! tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!!

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory

[luna-azzurra]

do you have any advice for writing a love confession without making it grossly cheesy or awkward?

im writing one between long time childhood best friends that are EXTREMELY close and im so stuck

Since these two characters have been best friends for a long time, the confession should feel like it’s built off their history together. Maybe start with a memory that’s meaningful to both of them. It doesn’t have to be a huge, dramatic moment, something small but personal, like a time they supported each other or a running joke they’ve had forever.

For example, one of them could say something like

“Remember that time we got caught in the rain walking home from school, and you made up that ridiculous song to keep me from freaking out? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately… and I realized that’s when I first started seeing you differently.”

When people confess their feelings, especially in a real and vulnerable way, it’s usually not in flowery language. If you try to make it too poetic or dramatic, it might feel forced. Instead, keep it honest and straightforward. They don’t need to say “I’ve loved you all along” in some grand, movie-like way. Let the confession come out more naturally, almost like they’ve been fighting it for a while and finally just have to get it off their chest.

You could have them say

“I don’t really know how to say this, and it might sound weird… but somewhere along the way, I started seeing you as more than just my best friend.”

There’s no way for this kind of confession to be totally smooth, and honestly, that’s what makes it feel more authentic. They’ve been best friends forever, so there’s going to be nerves, maybe some hesitation or stumbling over words. Lean into that awkwardness, it actually makes the moment more relatable and shows how important it is to them.

Maybe one of them starts talking, realizes they’re rambling, and tries to correct themselves. Like

“Okay, wait, that sounded dumb, let me start over. What I’m trying to say is… you mean a lot to me, more than I’ve probably ever said out loud, and it’s kind of terrifying because I don’t want to mess things up between us. But I’ve gotta be honest, this is how I feel.” The vulnerability in admitting they’re scared to ruin the friendship makes it more heartfelt and real.

This is probably the most important part! These two aren’t just falling for each other out of nowhere, they’ve built this strong, deep friendship over the years. So the confession should acknowledge how much that means to them. Make it clear that the romantic feelings don’t take away from their friendship but add to it.

You could have one of them say something like

“You’ve always been the person I turn to for everything, and that’s not gonna change, no matter what. But lately, I’ve been feeling something more, and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I just hope it doesn’t mess things up between us.” This way, they’re emphasizing that the friendship is still the foundation of everything, but they can’t ignore the fact that it’s evolving into something deeper.

Overall, just make sure it feels true to the characters and their relationship. Don’t feel like you have to tie it up neatly with a perfect line or a romantic kiss right away. The beauty of this kind of love confession is that it’s messy and emotional, and it should reflect the complexity of their relationship. They don’t need to have all the answers right away. Let the moment be about the honesty and the fact that they’re finally admitting something that’s been building for a while.

Maybe end with something like

“I don’t know where this goes from here, but I had to tell you. You’re too important to me to keep pretending like I don’t feel this way.” This leaves room for both characters to process what’s happening without forcing a big romantic resolution right away. It’s more about them taking that first step into new territory, which feels more genuine and in line with the close friendship they’ve had for so long.

[changetyre]

Broken ⒾⓈⓌ

SUMMARY: You and Max are having trouble trying to grow your family and your daughters are affected by it. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: Angst, miscommunication, pregnancy issues, a smidge of smut at the end.

A/N: This was requested over on Wattpad. Despite the angst, this is one of my favorite parts of this series.

Max stretched out, his back feeling painful after carrying all the presents he'd bought up from the parking lot before stashing them in a high cupboard in the house where he was sure nobody would look. It was late and he'd spent most of the day out looking for gifts, although truly it was also an excuse to get some space since the environment at home wasn't the best right now. 

The house was quiet when he arrived, a good indicator the girls were already asleep in their room and you as well probably. Although only a few months ago there wouldn't be a day you wouldn't wait for Max before going to bed, physically unable to go to sleep without hearing his voice but lately things had changed and you and Max often went to bed without exchanging any words at all. 

Once he finally made his way to your bedroom he wasn't surprised to find you were in fact asleep, clothes scattered around the room which you also hadn't bothered to clean up. Max sighed, he was tired having not really had a day of relaxation since the season ended despite imagining he'd spend his winter holidays differently, that things would somehow get better. 

He proceeded to pick up the room a little bit making it a little more presentable before taking a quick shower and joining you in bed. While his skin screamed to feel yours Max didn't feel comfortable enough to do so anymore, not knowing how you'd react to him placing an arm around you like he had done every night since you'd gotten together..until a few months ago. 

The next morning Max woke up to find you'd woken up but stayed laying there simply staring up at the ceiling, he knew your mind was spiraling but truly didn't want to ask anymore knowing you'd shut him out.  

"Hey," Max asked. His voice almost felt too loud for the silence. 

"Hi." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound almost strange to him not used to hearing it often anymore. 

"How d'you sleep?" Max asked. 

"I'm gonna go make breakfast for the girls." you ignored his question avoiding eye contact as you left the room leaving no more space for conversation. 

Once Max got himself ready for the day he went out to join you for breakfast finding you'd already eaten and were in the process of washing the dishes. He'd be lying if he said this didn't hurt him but held back from saying anything not wanting to start an argument. 

The rest of the day was mostly spent in silence apart from the laughter and ruckus from your children there were no words exchanged between you and Max. At some point, Max left the house once more wanting space. 

"Mama," Ivy called you as you played with both your daughters in the balcony. 

"Yeah, baby." Your daughters naturally made you smile, probably the only time you showed any sort of emotion lately. 

"Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?" She asked. 

Your heart skipped a beat, the immediate urge to cry reaching your throat and you only hoped your eyes gave no indication to the sudden burst of emotion. You noticed the way Lea's smile also dropped at the question, her attention ready to hear your answer. 

"Uhm, of course we do baby why would you think that?" You asked hoping your shaky voice didn't worry your daughters. 

"Papa doesn't blink at you anymore...like dis mama." Ivy showed you by blinking her eyes hard three times just like her father used to do to you almost daily before. 

The reminder of this almost broke you, you began picking up the girl's toys making sure they weren't able to see your face properly as you began crying. "You don't have to worry girls, everythings okay with Papa and me." You lied to your daughters, and it was evident by the weakness of your voice but you weren't sure what else to say. 

"Mama, are you okay?" Lea asked this time, her voice filled with concern, she was growing up, she of course noticed things, possibly understood things a little more than her sister and you knew you were hurting her, hurting them both and thought of this killed you inside. 

"I'm fine Lea, why don't you take your sister to your room and watch a movie, I'm gonna shower." You tried your best to force a smile wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before facing your older daughter. 

Lea simply nodded not wanting to cause you more distress before taking Ivy's hand and guiding her away. Once they were gone you let yourself cry it out. 

Trying and failing to conceive another child had been more emotionally draining than you had ever imagined it would be. You and Max had tried, tried, and tired to the point making love to him wasn't exciting anymore, it was frustrating, full of desperation, and so eventually, you stopped. You stopped trying, stopped connecting, stopped loving.  

Silence seemed like the easiest solution, not willing to face the reality of it all. Drowning in your own thoughts was exhausting but it seemed like the better option since potentially hearing the way you let down your partner, your family was worse. 

But it was obvious now, it was obvious how much this was already hurting your family so you had to toughen up now, muster enough strength to talk to Max, talk to your husband, and face whatever was next for you, whether good or bad it had to better than letting your daughters see the way things were falling apart between you. 

___________

Max once again came home to silence, he could hear the TV on in the girl's room and he didn't want to go to his room so instead decided to try to wrap up the presents in secret while he had the time. 

Max was semi-successful, his daughters had walked out of their room and been insistent on wanting to know what Max was doing despite him telling them several times to go back to their rooms and his patience was wearing thin. 

He was only able to get them to stay in their rooms after promising them a play date with their uncle Lando on the weekend if they behaved. Finally knowing they would stay in their rooms Max took the time to try to hide the gifts again so he could put them under the tree by the end of the month. 

He'd headed to the bathroom and when he came back anger and frustration flooded him at seeing Lea helping Ivy up to the counter to try to open the cupboard where he'd stashed the gifts. 

"LEA!" Max yelled letting his emotions control him for the first time with his daughters. 

Lea and Ivy both gasped and Max ran to catch Ivy who almost slipped off the counter trying to get down quickly. 

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING!? YOUR SISTER COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!" Max yelled at his older daughter. 

You heard the commotion from the room running out to check on the situation. "I WANT YOU BOTH IN YOUR ROOMS, NO TV, NO GAMES, GO STRAIGHT TO BED!" Max continued yelling. 

Both Ivy and Lea were in tears at seeing their dad so angry for the first time in their lives, running straight to their rooms. 

"Max calm down." Your heart broke, you knew Max was never like this with your daughters and it scared you to see this side of him come out, feeling partly guilty for it. 

"Oh wow...so now you decide to talk to me." Max scoffed pushing past you and into your room. 

Your heart broke at the action, but he was right. You knew he needed time to cool off so you headed to your daughter's room to check on them. 

Opening the door you had to try to hold back your own tears at the sight. Lea held Ivy in her arms as they both sobbed. You couldn't say anything to afraid to burst into tears so instead sat by your daughter's bed and hugged them both. 

"I-I-I'm so-so-sorry-ma-ma." Lea hiccuped not being able to catch her own breath at how much she cried. 

This time you felt a few tears run down your cheeks. "Hey baby it's okay." You took her face in your hands trying to soothe her. "Lea honey it's okay." You blew gently on your daughter's face trying to calm her down. 

"Pa-pa's- ang-angr-angry." she continued hiccuping. 

"I know darling he shouldn't have yelled like that baby. He loves you so much, we both do." You reminded her kissing her forehead. 

Eventually, Ivy had fallen asleep crying on her sister's lap so you picked her up and moved her to her bed tucking her in. You then went back to your older daughter who was having a little bit of a harder time settling down. 

"Lea listen sometimes people get angry at other things and they feel so angry for a long time that when something else happens they just blow up and scream." You tried your best to explain to your daughter. 

"Like papa?" She asked. 

"Yeah like Papa Baby, Papa's feeling a lot of things because of something else and unfortunately he just took it out on you." You revealed. 

Little did you know Max was listening from outside, after cooling off a little he felt bad and meant to go apologize to his daughters but stopped once he heard you inside with them. 

"But why?" Lea asked. "Why is papa angry mama?" Lea was almost 6, you knew she was starting to get a better grasp of things and you also knew being honest with her would be the best thing for her right now so after thinking about it for a few seconds you decided to just be honest with her. 

"Do you remember on Ivy's 2nd birthday when she wished for a brother?" You asked your daughter. 

"Yeah," Lea replied moving her head to look up at you. 

"Well your Papa and I after that, after talking a lot tried to make another baby..."Your voice broke. 

Max's heart broke at hearing you struggle to speak. 

"Well, we tried for a long time and Mama just couldn't get another baby in her tummy which made both Mama and Papa really really sad." You revealed. 

"Why won't the baby go in your tummy mama?" Lea asked innocently, reaching for her little hand to wipe some tears off your cheek. 

"I don't know baby, maybe mommy's broken." You were full-on crying but you could see your daughter's understanding eyes at the situation. 

"Is that why Papa doesn't say I love you with his eyes anymore?" Lea asked again, oblivious to the impact her question had on her parents. Max fell to his knees outside the room distraught at the guilt he could hear in your voice, and about the fact that his daughters and possibly you thought he didn't love you anymore. 

"I don't know honey...maybe. It's not easy when you want something really really bad and you just can't get it so it can make you feel a lot of things, mommy feels like it's her fault that the baby doesn't want to go in her tummy." You tried to finish explaining. 

"I'm sorry Mama." Lea apologized once more. "But even if you are broken mama I'll still love you the same, I'll even say it with my eyes if you want." Lea smiled imitating her dad by blinking her eyes I love you just like her dad used to do. 

This time your tears were of gratitude at feeling the love your daughter had for you, the simplicity with which her mind understood the situation and tried to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby." You hugged your daughter placing kisses on her cheek. 

Lea settled enough, feeling a little better at understanding why things had been a little weird at home lately. You watched her fall asleep. You took a deep breath ready to have a difficult conversation with your husband praying it might go a little similar to the conversation you had with your daughter. 

You walked out of their room and were surprised to find Max sitting outside, his back to the wall with his face in his hands. You could tell he'd been crying from the wet spots on his shirt and trousers. 

"Maxy." You fell to your knees beside him. 

Max pulled his hands away as you both wrapped your arms around each other at the same time. You both started crying in each other's arms, Max holding you tightly against him. 

"You're not broken, I never thought so either I just wanted you to talk to me." He whispered. "I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever let you doubt it, and I'm sorry for screaming at Ivy and Lea, I'm just- I'm so sorry for everything" Max cried tucking his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I felt so useless and frustrated I couldn't get pregnant. I know how long you've been trying to hold it together for us, for all of us and I shouldn't have ever let you carry all of it on your own. I'm sorry too for everything."  You also apologized. "I love you, Max, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you I just wanted to give us another baby." 

"I know." Max sighed pulling back and wiping tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "Look I would love to have another baby with you, I'd have a 100 if it was with you but I'm so enamored by the family you've given me already, our girls...they're the best thing that have ever happened to me and if trying to have another baby is gonna cost us...us...than I don't want it." Max was honest. 

You nodded agreeing with his words. 

"It doesn't mean we stop trying, we can if that's what you want but I just want you back first, I need us to be okay before trying again okay?" He asked you. 

"Yeah." You agreed once more. 

Max rested his forehead against yours. You heard him take a deep breath. "God I missed you." he sighed before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 

You kissed him back harshly almost desperate to taste him again mentally questioning yourself how you were able to survive without this for as long as you did. "I love you," you whispered as you momentarily pulled away to catch your breath. 

But Max kept kissing you not wanting for this to stop, as if his body was trying to catch up on all the time he spent without your touch. "I love you." He whispered back scooping you into his lap, your legs wrapping around him as he stood up with you in his arms before taking you to your bedroom. 

Laying you down on your shared bed it once again felt right, being shared with him. Max was quick to get you naked, teasing you as he prepared you for him.

"I adore you." He whispered as he slipped into you. You'd be okay.

[kiwriteswords]

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, "I love you."

AN: Since you guys seem to like the Shy!Reader drabbles!

Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: Everyone

TW: shy!reader, alcohol mention

Five times you were shy around Aaron Hotchner because of your underlying feelings for him + one time, Aaron Hotchner was shy around you because of his underlying feelings for you.

one.

The office was unusually quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and the soft hum of computers. The rest of the team was out in the field, leaving just you and Aaron Hotchner behind to finish reviewing the case files for the next briefing.

You glanced at the clock. It was just after 6 p.m. Most people would be winding down their day, but for the BAU, the hours always seemed to blend together. Of course, you didn’t mind—working with the best agents in the FBI was an honor, but working directly under Aaron Hotchner, your team leader and a respected figure in the bureau? That was something else entirely.

And today, you were supposed to help him with the case files for the recent kidnapping case. Alone.

“Ready?” His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you nearly jumped. You didn’t have the time to dissect why this man--your boss, made you feel this way. As if every time he looked at you, it felt like he could see things differently--more than anyone else. You felt a level of exposure you were not quite used to. It wasn’t bad, no. Just made you feel sort of funny inside. 

“Uh, yes, yes, sir. Just—just a second.” You scrambled to gather your papers, your hands suddenly clammy as you fumbled with the file in front of you. Great start, you mentally scolded yourself.

You could feel his eyes on you, calm and patient, as you tried to compose yourself. Hotch, with his sharp features and intense gaze, sat down beside you at the long conference table, his presence commanding even though he said nothing. As usual, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, tie still impeccably knotted despite the long day.

He always looked so put together, so composed, and here you were, barely able to keep from dropping the entire file on the floor.

And that was the thing about Aaron Hotchner’s microscope; it was never him purposefully looking at you--through you with judgment. Just through a different lens, you could feel it. 

“Okay,” you breathed out, finally opening the folder and staring at the first page, willing yourself to focus. But of course, all you could focus on was him sitting beside you, his arm brushing ever so slightly against yours as he leaned in to review the documents.

Hotch’s voice broke the silence again. “I noticed some inconsistencies in the witness statements,” he said, pointing at a section in the report. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the proximity making your heartbeat quicken.

“Right, um, inconsistencies. Yes, I—I saw those too,” you stammered, your voice just a little higher than usual. You could feel your cheeks burning. Pull it together.

As you reached to turn the page, your fingers trembled slightly, and the edges of the papers crinkled under your grip. You cursed yourself internally. He’s going to think I don’t know what I’m doing.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hotch glance at you. His brow furrowed, not in frustration, but in something softer—concern, maybe? Before you could stop yourself, you began speaking too fast, trying to fill the silence.

“I mean, the statements are definitely off, like you said. I was just thinking, you know, we could um, cross-check them against the surveillance footage from the convenience store and maybe, uh, match the timestamps, because—well, um, obviously, you’ve probably already thought of that, but I just thought…”

You trailed off when you realized Hotch wasn’t looking at the file anymore. He was looking at you. And oh god, that made things so much worse. You felt the tips of your ears burning now, and you quickly looked down at the paper in front of you, pretending to reread the same line over and over just to avoid his gaze.

“You’re doing fine,” Hotch said softly, his voice cutting through your spiraling thoughts.

You looked up, blinking in surprise. His expression was calm, reassuring even, as though he could sense how flustered you were. For a moment, you thought you saw the tiniest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I—thanks,” you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. This was Aaron Hotchner—your boss, your colleague. And yet, here you were, acting like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush.

Well, because you did have a crush. A big one. A ridiculous, all-consuming crush that you had been battling for months now. And being this close to him, feeling his presence so close—it was like your brain short-circuited every time. His cologne, his energy--everything that surrounded your senses was just like a drug making your brain work in ways it really shouldn’t be when you have a job to do.

Hotch nodded, his attention returning to the file in front of you, but the moment didn’t pass unnoticed. The air between you felt different now--lighter. As if he understood, on some level, that your nerves weren’t because of the case, but because of him. 

You worked in silence after that, the tension slowly ebbing away. But every now and then, you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as if he was still watching, still noticing.

And for the first time, you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, Aaron Hotchner noticed you too.

two.

It had already been a morning and a half. The team had gathered for a debrief, with everyone scattered around their desks reviewing the latest case notes. You felt the weight of exhaustion after the last long night, and from the looks of it, so did everyone else. It was natural for these long hours to catch up to you all eventually. 

“Coffee run?” you asked, glancing around at the others. JJ and Spencer immediately nodded, followed by Morgan flashing you a grateful smile.

“I could use about three cups,” Emily quipped, massaging her temples.

You smiled back and quickly made your way to the break room. As you stood by the machine, the familiar hum of it brewing filled the room. You glanced at the lineup of mugs in your arms, including the one you had specifically set aside for Hotch. His was easy to pick out—simple, just like the man himself.

For some reason, even the simple act of grabbing coffee for him made you feel jittery. Maybe it was because of the way he always carried himself—calm, collected, completely in control. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you, like he was always assessing, always paying attention.

Or maybe it was because you had the world’s most inconvenient crush on your boss.

You sighed and shook your head. It's just coffee. Be normal.

When the machine finally finished, you loaded the cups and returned to the bullpen. As you handed the team their drinks, your nerves started to build as you approached Hotch’s office. His door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, you could see him typing away on his computer, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You knocked softly, pushing the door open a little wider. “Coffee?”

Hotch glanced up, his eyes softening for a brief moment as he saw you standing there, juggling the last two mugs. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm but as professional as always.

You stepped forward, holding out his cup. “Uh, here,” you said, your voice coming out a little I quickly. As he reached for it, your fingers accidentally brushed against his.

The contact was fleeting but sent a jolt through your whole body. Your breath hitched, and suddenly, you were hyper-aware of how close he was. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, and you swore he must have heard it. You tried to ignore how your hand trembled slightly, but it was impossible with Hotch standing right there.

For a second, he didn’t move. His gaze flickered down to your hand, then back up to meet your eyes, and you could have sworn there was a flicker of amusement in his expression as if he was beginning to catch on to the hold he had over you. He took the cup from you carefully, his touch deliberate and slow. 

“Thank you,” he repeated, but this time, there was something softer in his tone. His lips curved ever so slightly—a small smile, barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. You always were.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Why am I such a mess around him?

“Oh—uh, no problem,” you managed to stammer, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. You took a step back, desperate to escape before you embarrassed yourself further. “Enjoy your coffee, Hotch.”

You turned to leave, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly—a rare sound, one that sent another rush of heat through you. You could only hope he didn’t notice how flustered you were. But then again, judging by that tiny smile, he already had.

three.

A grueling case with long hours and high tension called for alcohol and camaraderie. When Rossi suggested they all unwind at a nearby bar after wrapping things up, no one argued. The idea of a drink and a few hours of normalcy was too tempting to pass up--and much needed.

You found yourself sitting at a long table with the rest of the team, squeezed between JJ and Hotch. Normally, that would have sent your nerves into overdrive, but after the first glass of wine—and then the second—you felt your anxiety loosen just a bit. Just enough to breathe without overthinking every little move you made next to him.

The conversation flowed easily around you, with Morgan and Garcia trading playful banter while Spencer tried to argue some statistic about criminal behavior. You laughed along, but every time Hotch spoke, your focus snapped to him. You couldn’t help it. It was like your mind was on high alert every time he addressed the group, or worse—you directly.

“Good work on the case,” he said at one point, turning to you with that intense gaze of his. “You managed the witness interviews really well. I think it made a difference.”

Your heart lurched. He was complimenting you—praising your work in front of the whole team. The sudden attention made your pulse quicken, and you could feel your face heating up despite the buzz from the drinks.

Before you could stop yourself, the words just spilled out.

With a slightly bolder tone than you usually used around him, you turned to face him fully, giving him a playful smile. “Well, maybe I just wanted to impress you, Hotch.”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how bold they sounded. You raised your glass slightly, locking eyes with him for a moment longer than necessary. You’d just flirted with your boss. There was no going back now.

Hotch blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but then a slow smile—rare but devastating—appeared on his face. “Is that right?” he replied, his voice low and most definitely amused. 

Your heart practically stopped, but before you could spiral too much, JJ leaned over with a laugh. “Well, someone’s confident tonight.” 

You hadn’t even realized that not only did you flirt with Hotch, but you happened to do it in front of your coworkers--your profiling coworkers. Ones that were well-trained and versed in all sorts of fucked up psychology that “having an apparent crush on your older boss” would fall under. 

The moment passed quickly, and the conversation shifted again, but your head was spinning. The buzz from the drinks had officially worn off, leaving you hyper-aware of everything. You spent the rest of the night trying to avoid looking directly at Hotch, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t taken your words too seriously.

By the time you walked into work the next morning, the weight of what happened at the dinner hit you full force. I flirted with Hotch. The realization felt like a brick sinking in your stomach.

You avoided his office all morning, burying yourself in paperwork and case files. Every time someone walked past your desk, you jumped, paranoid that it would be him coming to say something—anything—about last night.

Why did I have to say that? What was I thinking?

By midday, you were a ball of nerves. Every interaction with Hotch now felt loaded, as if you were walking on a tightrope. When he passed by your desk and gave you a small nod of acknowledgment, you nearly knocked your coffee over, your hands trembling as you tried to act casual.

You could still feel the burn of embarrassment every time you remembered how easy the words had slipped out. And the worst part? He hadn’t seemed uncomfortable at all. If anything, he had smiled. That tiny, knowing smile that you couldn’t get out of your head.

Later, when you were both in the conference room, going over case files, the tension felt unbearable. You barely managed to string together coherent answers every time he asked you a question, your brain too busy screaming Don’t be awkward.

But even in your shyness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered what you said. If maybe, somewhere behind that calm, professional exterior, Aaron Hotchner had actually been flustered, too?

four. 

Everyone else had left hours ago, but you were still there, finishing up some paperwork that seemed never-ending. The only sound was the soft clicking of your keyboard and the occasional creak of your chair as you shifted positions. Being the newest member on the team, you often double- or even triple-check everything, afraid it would be wrong. This cost you a lot of your spare time, but in fairness, what else did you have going on? 

You weren’t surprised that Aaron Hotchner was still there, too. He was always the last to leave, always pushing himself past his limits. It was one of the things you admired about him—and maybe one of the reasons you found it so hard to concentrate whenever you were alone with him.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past 9 p.m., and the fatigue from the long day was starting to settle into your bones. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes when you heard footsteps approaching. Before you could turn around, Hotch’s calm, steady voice cut through the silence.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” he said softly, standing just behind your desk. “Maybe it’s time for a break.”

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment. You hadn’t realized how quiet it was until his voice filled the space. His tone almost vibrating against your ears. 

You quickly straightened up, trying to act casual, though you could already feel your pulse quickening.

“Oh, uh, yeah… probably a good idea,” you said, a bit too quickly. You glanced up at him, and for a split second, you wished you hadn’t. He was standing close—too close—and the sight of him with his tie slightly loosened, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sent a fresh wave of nervousness through you. Why did he always have to look so effortlessly composed?

Hotch tilted his head slightly, as if considering something. “I was about to make some tea,” he said, his voice low and calming. “Would you like some?”

Tea. Something about the simplicity of the offer made your heart flutter. “Sure,” you replied, smiling faintly. “Tea sounds nice.”

A few minutes later, Hotch returned with two steaming mugs. He set one down beside your stack of papers and took a seat in the chair next to yours. 

You quickly pulled your hand back, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your breath caught in your throat. But of course, he noticed everything. That’s who he was.

“Long day,” he said quietly, sipping his tea and glancing over at you.

You nodded, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling. “Yeah. Feels like the days are getting longer.”

Hotch smiled softly, a rare but welcome sight. “I’d say you handled it well.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Compliments from Aaron Hotchner were few and far between, and when they came, they always seemed to hit harder than you expected. You swallowed nervously, feeling the familiar heat rising to your cheeks.

“T-Thanks,” you stammered, looking down at your tea and willing yourself not to blush. But it was no use. You were hyper-aware of how close he was, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Every word you could have said stuck in your throat, as if your mind had gone blank.

There was a brief silence, the kind that felt charged with something unspoken. Hotch leaned back in his chair slightly, his gaze steady on you. You could feel it—his calm presence, his quiet strength—and it only made your nerves worse. How did he manage to make small talk feel so intense?

“You don’t have to push yourself so hard, you know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “You’re already doing more than enough. There’s nothing you need to prove--you deserve to be here.”

Your breath caught again. Was he worried about you? The thought made your heart race even faster. You tried to find the right words, but they felt stuck. All you could manage was a small, awkward laugh. “I guess I’m just trying to keep up with you.”

Hotch’s expression softened further, and for a moment, you swore there was something in his eyes—something warmer, more personal. He didn’t respond right away, just held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire now, and you quickly took a sip of your tea, hoping it would calm your racing heart. But the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like a quiet understanding had passed between the two of you, something unspoken but undeniably there.

Maybe he put together all of the pieces and realized you were hopelessly crushing on him, so he had pity and let you be. Maybe he thought men made you nervous--but then again, he’d seen you all buddy-buddy with Reid or even Morgan.

As the minutes passed, the tension slowly ebbed away, but the closeness remained. Hotch’s presence beside you felt reassuring, yet it kept your pulse thrumming in a way that made you wish you could stay like this just a little longer. Even if it meant fumbling over your words, you wouldn’t mind.

five.

The overhead lights buzzed softly, and the air was thick with the smell of coffee. You were sitting at the round table in the conference room, papers spread out in front of you, piecing together a presentation for the case debrief tomorrow. Your focus was sharp, and for once, you weren’t thinking about how close Hotch was sitting. Well, almost.

Aaron Hotchner was seated at the head of the table, reviewing files and notes from his section of the case, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence between you felt comfortable—until it wasn’t.

Out of nowhere, Hotch spoke up, breaking the quiet. “Your organizational skills are impressive,” he said, his tone casual but sincere. “I don’t know how you keep all of this together so efficiently.”

You froze, your pen hovering above the notebook in front of you. He complimented you--again. The words sunk in slowly, and you could feel your face start to burn. Why did he always catch you off guard like this?

“I—uh, thanks,” you stammered, suddenly feeling the need to escape. Your heart raced as you realized how flustered you must look, your cheeks burning under his calm gaze. You barely managed to glance up at him, but his expression wasn’t teasing. It was soft, warm even.

“I just try to stay on top of things,” you mumbled, pushing your chair back too quickly. The sound echoed through the room, making you cringe. You could feel your face turning crimson as you gathered up your papers in a rush, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Why did he have to say something so nice? Why did you have to react like this every time?

You gave him a brief, awkward smile and practically bolted for the door. “I-I need to get this to JJ,” you blurted out, even though you had no intention of doing so.

As you reached the doorway, your hand on the handle, you heard him call your name—soft but unmistakable. You froze in place, half-turned, not daring to look back fully.

“By the way,” he said, his voice still calm but a touch more serious. “You don’t need to rush out every time I give you a compliment.”

Your breath caught, and for a split second, you weren’t sure if you could move. There was no teasing in his tone, no sharpness—just a quiet, sincere warmth. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Hotch noticed more than you thought.

You finally turned slightly toward him, meeting his gaze briefly. “I… I’ll try not to,” you whispered, your voice shaky but honest. Without waiting for a response, you slipped out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest.

And as you left the room, you heard Hotch chuckle softly to himself. It wasn’t cruel; it was amused, affectionate even. That only made things worse.

As you walked down the hall, the sound of his words still echoed in your mind, replaying over and over. You didn’t need to rush out every time he complimented you. And for the first time, you wondered what might happen if you didn’t.

+one

It had been weeks since the last case that left you fleeing the conference room after Aaron Hotchner’s casual compliment about your organizational skills. You’d spent every day since trying to keep your interactions with him as short and as professional as possible, but avoiding him entirely wasn’t exactly an option. You were part of the team, and your role often required working closely with him. That only made your constant nervousness more exhausting.

Every time he passed by your desk, every time he said your name in that calm, authoritative tone, your heart would skip a beat. The nerves were always there, simmering just under the surface. You weren’t sure if he noticed how flustered you got around him or if he simply chalked it up to work stress. Either way, it made every interaction with him feel like walking on a tightrope.

And today was no different after another intense case had finally been closed. You were finishing paperwork at your desk when you saw Hotch step out of his office, his eyes scanning the bullpen. The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted.

He started walking over, his strides purposeful. You tried to keep your face neutral, even as the heat rushed to your cheeks. Stay calm. It’s just work.

You looked up at him when he stopped before your desk, forcing a smile. “Do you need something?”

Hotch’s expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes seemed different today. Less intense, more… hesitant? “Can I see you in my office for a moment?”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you quickly nodded, not trusting your voice. You grabbed your notepad, assuming it was something case-related, and followed him back into his office.

As you stepped inside, he closed the door behind you. The click of the latch made the room feel suddenly smaller--more intimate. You turned to face him, clutching your notepad like a shield.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

Hotch didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he walked over to his desk, leaning against it, his arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was something in the way he looked at you—something that made your pulse quicken.

“I’ve noticed,” he began, his voice measured but quieter than usual, “that you’ve been avoiding me.”

Your stomach dropped. He noticed. You hadn’t thought it was that obvious, but of course, this was Aaron Hotchner. He noticed everything.

“I… I h-haven’t been avoiding you,” you stammered, though you knew it was a lie. “I’ve just been busy. Lots of cases lately, you know.”

Hotch’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not what it feels like.”

You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to overwhelm you. He wasn’t angry; his tone wasn’t harsh or accusatory, but there was a weight to his words that made your throat go dry. He uncrossed his arms and took a small step toward you, closing the gap between you just enough to make your breath hitch.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he continued, his voice softer now. “But I’ve noticed how you’ve been acting around me. And I have to admit, it’s been difficult to ignore.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing. Was he going to reprimand you for being unprofessional? Did he think you couldn’t handle your job because of the way you acted around him? Would he send you off to report to someone different? You felt the familiar heat rising in your cheeks and wished you could disappear.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been… awkward,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. At this moment, you felt like a small child, “It’s just—”

Before you could finish, Hotch interrupted, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. “You don’t have to explain. I think I know why.”

His words hung in the air between you, and suddenly, everything felt different. You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “You do?”

Hotch took another small step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. He was so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. For the first time, you noticed the way his usually composed features seemed more vulnerable—like he was grappling with something inside himself.

“I’ve noticed because I’ve been feeling the same way,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stopped. He feels the same way? Your mind struggled to process what he was saying. Aaron Hotchner, your boss—the man who was always in control, always so composed—was confessing that he had feelings for you?

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, and all you could do was stare at him in stunned silence.

Hotch ran a hand through his hair, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture that sent a ripple of shock through you. He seemed just as uneasy as you were, as though he wasn’t used to being in this position—being vulnerable. “I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reaction. “But…but I can’t anymore.”

The silence between you felt thick with unspoken words, with all the tension and longing that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. And now it was all out in the open.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Hotch smiled—just a small, almost shy smile that you’d never seen from him before. He let out a soft chuckle, “Neither do I. This is… new for me.”

Your mind was still racing, but somewhere amidst the chaos, you realized that he wasn’t just confessing to you. He was just as nervous, just as unsure. For the first time, Aaron Hotchner—the man who always seemed unshakable—was standing in front of you, vulnerable and open.

You felt a surge of courage then, maybe fueled by the realization that this wasn’t one-sided. He was just as affected by you as you were by him. Slowly, you took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you.

“I didn’t think you’d ever notice,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly, though steadier than before. You took a breath, forcing yourself to keep eye contact, despite the fluttering nerves in your stomach. “I thought I was just… making a fool of myself. That you’d think I was unprofessional.”

Hotch’s expression softened, his gaze never leaving yours. He shook his head gently, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name, something more tender than you’d ever seen from him before. “You haven’t,” he said softly. “Believe me… I’ve noticed everything.”

The weight of his words hit you, and for the first time, you realized how closely he’d been watching, how much attention he’d been paying to all the little moments you thought were only one-sided. A warmth spread through you, melting away some of the nervous tension that had been building for months.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward anymore—it was charged, yes, but it was also full of something else. Understanding. Relief. The unspoken truth you’d both been dancing around finally laid bare.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, just stood there, the distance between you feeling impossibly small. You took a deep breath, your heart still pounding but lighter now, and offered him a small, hesitant smile. “So… what happens now?” you asked, your voice quieter, as if you weren’t sure you wanted the spell to break.

Hotch’s smile was subtle, but it reached his eyes this time, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “But I do know this… whatever we decide, we don’t need to rush.”

His words were steady and reassuring, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could breathe. The uncertainty was still there, yes, but so was the certainty that you weren’t alone in this anymore. That the feelings you’d been so afraid of had been mirrored all along.

You nodded slowly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Together, then?”

“Together,” he echoed, his voice quiet but firm.

And just as you turned to leave, feeling the tension melt away, Hotch called your name again. This time, his tone was softer, almost hesitant. You turned back to face him, your breath catching in your throat.

“One more thing,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve spent a lot of time noticing you. Maybe now… we don’t have to hide it anymore?”

His words lingered in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You swallowed hard, your heart racing again, but it wasn’t from nerves this time. It was from the hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

You smiled a genuine smile this time. “I’d like that.”

With that, you left his office feeling lighter than you had in months. And for the first time, the uncertainty ahead didn’t feel so daunting.

tag list:

@zaddyhotchzaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

[asunflowerana]

will you go to prom with me?

summary: prom is near, and your sweet, popular friend will do anything to have you as his date.

with: Gojo Satoru.

warnings: yandere behavior, blackmailing (not from satoru), slight blood mentions.

words: 1448.

a/n: i'm just gonna sit back and pretend this didn't give me chills. thinking of turning this into a series, but i'll hold myself from now haha

"Go to prom with me." It's not what you'd expect to hear on a Tuesday morning, right after a wearing History class. Even more so coming from the mouth of no other than Gojo Satoru, the coolest, most desired boy in school.

Yes, you've been friends with him for almost a year. And yes, you get on very well together, crack some side-jokes at classes, sometimes go out to grab some food, do homework at the library, and even stay up at night until sunrise on the phone, freaking out while studying for a math exam that none of you knew about it — or not paying attention, to be more honest. 

So yeah, you're friends. But it's Gojo Satoru we're talking about. And Gojo Satoru is just way out of anyone's league.

You're simply dumbfounded.

"I—" You swallow hard, feeling like you just lost your memory and no longer know how to complete sentences. You're feeling a lot of things, honestly, the guy you've had so many daydreams with saying he wants to have you as his partner, and there you are, a pile of nerves trying to hide the hard, loud way your heart beats inside.

And it's not that you don't want to accept it. Heck, you want to say yes so badly, how many times did you catch yourself watching those sappy rom coms and wondering if you and the white-haired boy would make a fine couple like that. He's the whole package, and if those gorgeous blue eyes and jaw-dropping looks weren't enough, he's also so kind to you, that you can't help but develop a crush.

But as expected, he didn't catch only your attention, but the whole school as well. Kaya Nami, one of the troublemaker cheerleaders, is in the line and does everything she can to make sure nothing gets in her way.

"If I were you, I'd stay away from Satoru Gojo. You won't like having me as an enemy, believe me." She threatened you last Friday, right during PE class. Confused wasn't enough to describe how you felt, but you didn't say anything back to not cause drama, only nodding and watching her head off like nothing happened.

"...I'm sorry, Satoru, but I can't." And unfortunately, that warning was enough to hinder you from making the choice you wanted.

It goes without saying how astounded Gojo was by your answer, that probably being his first time ever being rejected. "What do you mean 'you can't'?" And then his tone dropped an octave, changing to something more seething. "Did someone ask you? You said yesterday to me that you didn't get invited."

"And you're right, I didn't get it." You try to reason, not liking the way he's bothered by your rejection. " it's just... I didn't think you wanted to go with me!" And you didn't lie, even though you said it more as an excuse.

"Well, now you know." He gets closer, almost making you hit your back at the locker behind you. His eyes say he didn't buy any of your excuses. "So, why can't you go? I mean, I know how overwhelming my beauty can be, but you're just as pretty, sweetheart."

His mood suddenly changes to the usual Gojo Satoru, the cheeky guy who enjoys flustering you for fun. Grazing your chin between his index and thumb, he looks deep at you. "I'll give you the best time you ever had. Just be my date."

It takes everything on you to not jump in his arms and let yourself get swept off your feet. Why does he have to make this so difficult? Taking a deep breath, you remember the headache you're gonna get if you don't make the right choice. "Satoru, I'd love to be your date, really. It's just, I think there's someone else that would make a better date than me."

He stares at you with an unreadable expression. You don't know if he got angrier or had enough of your pitiful answers, but you wish you could be able to read only a fraction of Satoru's mind, cause he's staring for too long at you, and you don't know what else to say other than stare back at him.

Finally, he steps back, diverting his gaze to a random spot for a moment before moving to look at you again. Sliding his hands inside his pants pockets, he seems to accept the situation, but you're still not sure of what you see. "I guess you're not changing your mind, huh? Then tell me, who's this 'perfect match'  that you think would be better for me?" He questions with a hint of disdain, but he tries to hide it with a small side smile.

The girl appears in the scene before you can mention her name as if she was waiting for the right opportunity to pounce and make her move on him. By the way your shoulders slump and your eyes lower to the ground, he quickly assumes that she's the person you were talking about earlier and that for some reason, she's making you very uncomfortable. Not you nor Nami noticed the way Gojo glares at a blank spot. Thinking, he mindlessly accepts the blond girl's invitation to lunch, giving you a brief hug before going away. "If that's what you want." He whispers unexpectedly in your ear, offering you a final smile before letting himself be guided to the cafeteria.

You spend the rest of the day wanting to beat yourself for wasting the chance you had to go out with Satoru. You don't talk to him as much during the week, since Nami was making sure to grab every second of his free time at break. It didn't take too long to figure out that both of them would go to prom together, and even though you were the one who made that happen, it still stings to imagine them having a good time.

Prom day arrives, and in the end, no one invites you. It wasn't something completely unexpected, but to be honest, you were hoping that at least one of your friends would be kind enough to want you as a company just so you could all enjoy the "night to remember". Honestly, you didn't want to miss such an important event, and even though there was a chance that you'd make a fool of yourself, it's still your prom, and you have the right to make the most of it, with or without someone.

Kicking away the self-pity, you dressed up and got ready for the special night, wearing that beautiful gown that you remember once showing on Pinterest to Satoru, months before the event. Checking your purse one more time, you catch your phone to ask for a cab, when you hear three familiar knocks on your front door.

Opening your house, you come face to face with someone you never would've imagined seeing at that moment. There stood Gojo Satoru, with a black tuxedo that perfectly accentuates his body, a bouquet of pink camellias in his left hand, glasses off, and a beautiful lopsided smile.

"...Wow." The combo of his honest compliment, his lingering, fond gaze in your direction, and the fact that you made him momentarily speechless, makes your whole self overwhelmed with endearing sensations, especially your warm cheeks.

But that passes too quickly since you don't understand the sudden visit.

"S-Satoru? What are you doing here?" You didn't want this to be the first thing to say to him, but you're so confused, that you don't know what else to say. "I thought you were going out with Nami. Where is she?"

Awakening from the brief trance you provoked in him, the white-haired boy only increases his smile in a rather strange way. " Didn't you know? Mina got in an accident yesterday, she fell from the stairs and ended up breaking her leg."

One more time, you were taken by surprise. As for your friend, he doesn't sound as worried as you imagined he would be after giving this message, but he still makes a respectful pause after saying it.

Satoru also notices your reaction, observing the way you empathetic self got sad for that girl's situation. Little did you know that she got exactly what deserved. And if you looked more closely at your gift, instead of worrying yourself, you'd notice the blood stains around the wrapping paper, the remains of what your future partner did to prove his love.

To his luck, you're just too pure to realize what you don't need to. And for that, Satoru smiles, gazing at you with sparks again.

"So now, will you go to prom with me?"

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated 🦋

© asunflowerana 2024

[itneverendshere]

maybe wheezie or even sarah needing rafe to pick them up from school or attend a back to school night. like the school calls rafe to pick up sarah after getting in a fight. or the teacher calls him in to discuss that wheezie struggling in math

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 i think rafe's always had a soft spot for wheezie so i did this one for her cause i personally can see their dynamic being really cute.

 we're both older now - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. His hands were on the wheel, jaw clenched just enough for you to notice, but not enough to freak out.

It’s been months since rehab, and you swear, you’ve never seen him like this before—so focused, so... responsible. It’s kinda hot.

But that’s not what you’re here for. Not right now.

You’re headed to Wheezie’s school because, apparently, she’s been struggling with math. She didn’t want to tell Rafe because Ward’s rarely at home these days and she didn’t want to bother him. When you found out, you could’ve smacked her. You get it—Rafe’s been under a lot of pressure lately—but you don’t think she realizes how much he cares about her. That’s why you two are heading to a parent-teacher meeting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s not. 

“I should’ve known something was off,” Rafe mutters, breaking the silence.

You look over at him. “You couldn’t have. Wheezie’s good at keeping stuff to herself.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel just a little. “I’m her brother. I should’ve noticed.”

You reach over, resting your hand on his arm. “You’re doing your best, baby. That matters.”

He lets out a breath, his tension easing under your touch. God, sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who used to pick fights at every chance he got just a few years ago. It’s been almost a year since his last relapse, but every day you see him fighting to be better—for himself, for you, for his sisters. And honestly? It does something to you, seeing him like this. 

You pull into the school parking lot, and he parks the truck, turning off the engine. For a second, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. You know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering if he’s good enough to handle this, to handle all of it.

“You got this,” You say softly.

Together, you walk into the school, and after a quick conversation with the receptionist, you’re led to Wheezie’s teacher’s classroom. The room smells like dry-erase markers and stress, the kind you remember from my own high school days.

Except, this is a private school, completely different from what you were used to, and back then, you loved school. You were good at it too—really good, actually. Straight A’s, honors, full ride to a decent college…but life had other plans.

You look at Rafe as you wait for the teacher to start the meeting. He’s sitting up straight, listening intently, and your chest tightens a little.

The same guy who used to blow off any responsibility now sitting here, laser-focused, ready to step up for his little sister. The teacher starts talking about Wheezie’s grades, how she’s been falling behind in math, and you can see the guilt in his face. You squeeze his knee under the table, trying to ground him, but honestly? This was hitting a little too close to home for you, too.

“I can help her,” You hear yourself say before you’ve even really thought about it. Rafe turns to look at you, surprised, and you shrug like it’s no big deal.

The teacher blinks, probably not expecting the girlfriend to jump in with a solution. “What did you score on your final exams?”

You move in your seat, not expecting the question but not exactly shy about your answer either. "I got a 1600 on my SATs," You said, trying to sound casual about it, even though you could see Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up next to you. 

The teacher’s eyes widen slightly. "That’s impressive," she says, "You must’ve had a lot of options for college."

You shrug again feeling that familiar feeling of bittersweet regret. "Yeah, I had a full ride to a few places.”

“And you didn’t go?”

The way she says says it—like she can’t imagine why you wouldn’t go—hurts a little. 

"Yeah, well... life happened." You try to brush it off like it doesn’t bother you.

Rafe’s hand slides over to yours under the table, interlocking your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for you. To remind you that you made the right choices, even if they weren’t easy ones.

The meeting wraps up pretty quickly after that.

The teacher gives Rafe some advice on how to help Wheezie stay on track, and you both thank her before heading out of the classroom. As you walk down the hallway, he stays quiet for a bit, and you can’t really read what’s going through his head.

By the time you get back to the truck, he turns to you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he’s still processing everything. "You got a perfect score on your SATs?"

Three years into the relationship and he’s still learning things about you every day.

You let out a small laugh, brushing some hair behind your ear. "Yeah. It’s not a big deal."

"That’s kinda insane," he says, looking at you like he’s seeing a whole new side of you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

You shrug for the millionth time today, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I don’t know. It just never came up. It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”

"It does matter." His voice is firm, and when you glance over, you can see how serious he looks. "You gave up a lot to help your sister. That’s not nothing."

Your throat tightens, and you have to swallow down the emotion rising inside you. The way Rafe says it, like he actually gets it, means more than he probably knows. "I just did what I had to do."

He nods slowly, like he understands that feeling all too well. "You didn’t have to offer to help Wheezie today. But you did.”

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it. "I want to help her. She deserves it."

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with this soft, almost disbelieving expression. Like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re still here, beside him, helping his family without a second thought.

"You’re amzing, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice low and warm in that way that makes your stomach flip.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Stop."

"I mean it." He reaches over, cupping your face gently with his hand, thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. His eyes soften as they meet yours, filled with so much adoration it makes you want to hide. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really fucking grateful."

You bite your lip, glancing down at his other hand on your knee before looking back up at him.

"You’ve been working hard. For yourself, for us. I see that."

His jaw tightens just slightly, and he looks down, almost like he’s not sure how to take the compliment. But when his eyes meet yours again,

"I’m trying," he says quietly. "I’m trying to be better."

"And you are," you whisper. "Every day."

The months of hard work, the late nights when you’ve held him through his doubts, the mornings when he’s shown up for his family even when it was hard. It’s all there, between you, unspoken but understood.

Rafe leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispers. "For everything."

You close your eyes, letting the moment settle around you. "I’ll always be here," you whisper back. "We’ve got this."

“I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let it hit you too deep. But it does. Because for all the mess you’ve been through—his ups and downs, his relapse, his constant fight to be better—it always comes back to you. To this.

“I’ll always have your back,” You remind him quietly. “You know that, right?”

He nods, like there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind. “I know. You’re really good with her," he says after a beat. "With Wheezie. And with Milo."

You smile, leaning back in your seat. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta look after the kids, right? Might as well be me."

Rafe’s lips twitch into another smile as he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For sticking around,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at you. “Even when I didn’t make it easy.”

 “You make it worth it, Rafe. You always have.”

Because seeing him like this—happy, strong, responsible, and healthy—it’s more than just him trying. It’s him becoming the person you always believed he could be, from day one on that stupid country club. And that? That’s something you’d stick around for any day.

When you and Rafe pull up to Tannyhill, the sun’s already setting. You grab your bag from the backseat, and he takes a deep breath, his hand hovering near yours like he needs to hold onto you just for a second longer. When you step into the house, you’re greeted by the usual stillness that fills the place. It’s huge, but it always feels too quiet.

Wheezie’s sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over her phone, clearly trying to distract herself. Her leg’s bouncing nervously under the stool, and you don’t even have to say anything to know that she’s been dreading this moment.

As soon as she sees the two of you, she freezes, eyes wide, "Hey," she greets, her voice shaky.

Rafe glances at you, and you give him a small nod. You know he’s trying to figure out how to handle this—he’s never really had to play the role of ‘responsible older brother’ before. But he’s doing it. He’s trying. And that’s what matters.

"Wheeze," Rafe starts, as he walks over to her, and you can see the panic rising in her eyes as she sits up straighter like she’s preparing for the worst. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

She bites her lip, glancing between the two of you. "I-I didn’t want to bother you," she mumbles, her voice small. "You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I thought— I don’t know. I thought I could handle it on my own."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s quiet for a second, and you can feel Wheezie’s anxiety practically buzzing out of her. She’s probably expecting him to yell, to go off on her, but instead, he takes a step forward and pulls her into a hug.

"You ever keep something like that from me again," he mutters into her hair, his tone firm but warm, "and you’re grounded."

Wheezie’s eyes go wide in shock, like she wasn’t expecting that at all. Her arms wrap around him a little awkwardly, but you can tell she’s relieved. She pulls back after a second, staring up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. "You’re not mad?"

Rafe shakes his head, but his expression is serious. "I’m not mad. I’m worried, Wheeze. I’m here, okay? I got you."

"I’m sorry," she whispers.

He sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her. "Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again."

She nods quickly, and you step closer, offering her a small smile. "You’re not in trouble, Wheezie. I’m gonna help you with the math stuff, okay? I promise."

Wheezie looks over at you, clearly surprised, and then back at Rafe. "You’re… really not mad?"

Rafe rolls his eyes but in that big-brother way that’s full of affection.

"No, Wheeze, I’m not mad. But next time you’re struggling with something, tell me. That’s what I’m here for."

She nods, relief washing over her features. "Okay. I will."

Rafe reaches out and ruffles her hair, something so casual and brotherly it makes your heart swell.

"Good. Now go do whatever you do, and remember—grounded if you pull that shit again."

You slap his arm, “Will stop cursing in front of her?”

He shoots you a half-smirk, looking completely unbothered. "Please baby, she’s sixteen. You think she doesn’t curse?"

Wheezie lets out a small laugh, covering her mouth as if she’s trying to keep it together, but you can tell she’s relieved. 

"Yeah, but maybe not in front of her big brother," you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Rafe shrugs, looking like he couldn’t care less. "If she’s smart enough to hide it from me, more power to her."

Wheezie giggles again, and you can’t help but smile. "Yeah, yeah," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him playfully. "You’re a great role model, Rafe Cameron."

He groans, “Please don’t use the full name.” The corners of his mouth tug up in a grin that makes your heart skip. “Alright, no more big brother lectures tonight. We’re good, yeah, Wheeze?”

Wheezie nods, still smiling. “Yeah, we’re good.”

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

MTL 18+

Who in atz do you think could be a mean dom? Full on mocking and teasing maybe maybe even some degradation (doesn’t have to include degradation)

In my opinion↓

I think woo, hwa, yeo, joong would be towards the top. gi imo would definitely be last he’s a big softy. Im not so confident about yun, gho, or san but id like to say they’re more towards the bottom.

•More•

Woo (what can I say🤷)

Hwa (he’ll be so sweet while ‘bullying’ you. prepping soft kisses while being so so mean ☹️)

Joong (again what can I say😗)

Yeo (ik ik he’s a sweetheart but hear me out. he thinks of himself as a doberman instead of a maltese is all I’m saying. think he has a lot more bite than he lets on)

Yun (I feel neutral about him idk.)

San (possibly can switch spots with gho)

Gho (possibly can switch spots with san)

Gi (I don’t think he’d enjoy degrading his s/o in any way shape or form. even without degradation I don’t think he’d be mean possibly afraid of hurting them or himself lol. meanest I could picture him being is him teasing you. calling you mean dirty things, mocking you etc nahhh I don’t see it tbh 🤷😗)

•Least•

How would you place them instead ?

This is the next ask to answer and omg what a doozy, what an absolute fkn (horny) doozy.

It's taken me weeks to complete this post because I keep thinking and changing my answers lol.

Disclaimer: This is all speculation and not to be taken for reality.

Who in Ateez Could Be a Mean Dom?

Most!

Jeong Yunho No 1!!!

Of course I'm going to put Yunho as the meanest dom in Ateez because firstly, he's the ONLY member of Ateez that's a 100% 'suit-wearing, lamorghini driving dilfy-ass' DOM!- all the rest of the members are switches.

Whilst he doesn't have the biggest degrading kink, he's still a mean dom in my mind because he'd be the type to love to mock, edge, tease and humiliate yourself in front of him.

His natal chart also indicates he could be a downright sadist and enjoy objectifying whoever his submissive partner, like downright depersonalising you and treating you like property.

Yunho's dominant presence reminds me of James Spader's character from the movie 'Secretary' and in the movie, he has a bdsm relationship with his secretary (duhh) and he's a mean/hard dom.

In the movie, they're roleplaying a scene where he tells the secretary to place her hands on the table and she cannot move her hands until he comes back to her and he's gone for HOURS and he doesn't come back until she's fallen asleep (and peed herself).

Then he comes back and completes the scene and there's a beautiful aftercare segment where it shows him giving her water, he picks her up and carries her to the bathtub where he cleans her and washes her hair. The bathing scene then cuts to him gently placing her on his bed where he proceeds to absolutely worship her and treat her like a princess.

And yeah- that's how I imagine Yunho as a dom.

Also, Secretary is a great film in general that shows how a dominant should take care of their submissive PROPERLY and it also highlights how he enhances the life of the secretary/submissive for the better.

In another scene, there's a moment where they are having a conversation and he encourages her to be more independent and tells her to go take a walk because it's sunny and it'll be good for her mental health.

And Maggie Gyllenhaal is sexy in it and James Spader is SEXY in it!

James Spader is a Capricorn Venus and Mars so he was perfect for the role honestly and I know he's unconventionally attractive for the girlies who get it- you get it.

Park Seonghwa!!

He's the second because he's not a dom, he's a switch with a heavy dominant preference...probably 90% dominant to 10% submissive but as a dom- he'd be a mean one indeed.

His Aries Mars indicates he doesn't have the best stamina and *finishes* quickly so think 10-15 minute rounds but A LOT of them.

He's a mean dom because this Mars sign have the type to be a bit selfish, so for example, you have 4 rounds with Seonghwa and he'll expect you to prioritise his needs in the first two and then he'll satisfy you in the last two.

Would be the type to almost bring you to orgasm and make you wander around frustrated from a ruined orgasm for hours before giving you the euphoria you desire.

Jung Wooyoung!!!

Wooyoung is one of the three true switches of the group and I'm including him under Wooyoung because he would be a mean dom but also a bratty dom and enjoy mocking you in social settings.

He's got a bit of voyeurism kink most likely and so I can imagine him being mean to you by allowing you to go out the girls at the club but he'll leave a huge bite mark on your neck and expect you to leave it uncovered for everyone to see.

Definitely an edger, like I can imagine him running his fingers up your thighs while you're chatting with someone at the dinner table, going so close to where you need it but just never close enough so you're all red-faced and antsy whilst talking to others.

Kim Hongjoong!!!

Hongjoong is smack in the middle because I always mention how he's the most flexible with his kinks and interests.

He's one of the more switchiest members of the group and it doesn't matter if you're a brat or obedient, he'll tailor his personal interests to what you like and enjoy.

In terms of meanness, he is a Sagittarius Mercury so he could enjoy a little bit of degradation but I think he'd be more 'mean' in his love for edging, overstimulation, teasing etc.

He's also more into the psychological aspect of being mean so instead of calling you degrading words, he might be mean by making you crawl on your hands or knees etc.

Choi Jongho!!!

I'm placing Jongho here for the same reason as Hongjoong even though I think he's more dominant than Hongjoong, I don't think he'd be as into degradation as Hongjoong.

I feel he'd more show his mean/hard dom energy by restraining you with his size or with shoving your underwear in your mouth so you struggle with the audacity of teasing Jongho as he edges or overstimulates you.

Choi San!!!

Choi San is one of the true 'switchy' members of the group and could easily adapt to your desires and preferences so whilst I think he could be into being mean- I'm not sure he would pursue that unless you initiate.

He's a Leo Venus and they're extremely words of affirmation oriented and his fancalls consistently highlight his love of praise and being complimented- so I'm just not feeling it with him.

He'd love to spank your arse and manhandle you in multiple positions before degrading you verbally.

Kang Yeosang!!!

It's not that he could be a hard dom I just reckon he'd be bad at it and you couldn't take him seriously if he stuttered.

'are you being a b-bad girl for me?'

Let's be real, most would laugh if his voice broke during dirty talk.

Least

Mingi is least because (imo) he is the subbiest member of Ateez and I legit think he would actually feel bad if he was degrading towards you.

I think he would try if you asked him but I think he'd feel guilty about it or he would overthink about it and worry if you thought he'd actually meant those things?

I feel it would cause more harm to his health emotionally being the giver than if he would the receiver.

Not that I think Mingi would enjoy receiving the degradation but I think he could handle receiving it more knowing you'll praise him afterwards.

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