#B-Side Error

[mr-jack-letterman]

More B-Side Verse!

Next up is Error.

This is Trojan, the B-Side verse version of Error.

(click for better quality)

- Within B-Side, Trojan used to be a Science Sans instead of a Geno Sans like Error was.

- Since Trojan originated from a younger and overall nicer Sans variant, Trojan is much more pacifistic and less angry than Error.

- He still destroys Universes, but he's less likely to actually fight people. He does his job and tries to flee as fast as possible when Scribe shows up, only rarely giving in to fighting.

- A glitch is spreading throughout B-Side verse. It seems as though there is no cure, but destroying the infected universes seem to slow it down. So, Trojan does his best to kill off the infected universes using his power, only leaving the uninfected alive. This earns him the title of "God of Destruction" throughout the multiverse as rumor spreads. No one, except Trojan's trusted allies, know of his true motives.

- Scribe and his crew are trying to stop the same corruption, but Scribe believes Trojan is the root cause of it and seeks to annihilate him, thinking destroying "the source" will kill off the rest. He doesn't see Trojan's efforts as "damage control", all he sees is Trojan "spreading more corruption."

- Being alone for so long has made him more like Alphys, very nervous and anti-social, but undeniably brilliant. He has a habit of going on long rambling tangents about data, space, magic, and whatnot. Most people don't understand a thing he's talking about though. He doesn't care, he's just happy to infodump.

- Most people see him as this maniacal mad scientist who tortures people and experiments on souls. Many Sanses like to compare him to some of the abusive and horrible Gasters throughout the multiverse. When, in reality, Trojan has absolutely zero confidence in himself let alone his "mad science."

- Most of Trojan's time is actually spent researching and documenting the different magic and fighting styles all Sans and Papyri have. He finds all the variation extremely fascinating and just rly rly rly wants to learn about it all. (*Cough* undiagnosed autism *cough*/lh)

- Trojan really doesn't have many friends and doesn't get out much. But, unlike Error, he's pretty good friends with Nightmare and his gang of misfits, as well as Cyan, the B-Side variant of Underswap Sans.

- For a long while, Trojan couldn't remember he used to be a Science Sans. Once he did remember, Cyan gave him his necklace as a reminder to never forget.

The rest of these are not rly that important, they're just funky little design quirks I think are cool lmao.

- Trojan is named after a "Trojan Horse Virus" a type of computer virus that disguises itself as a normal program.

- His name is also a reference to the Trojan Horse in Greek mythology. Within the story, not only was the Trojan Horse a smart plan, the monument itself was an alleged tribute to Athena, goddess of wisdom. Trojan is a very smart cookie so using my tism powers I named him after something connected to the goddess of wisdom essentially NSNDNND.

- Trojan's "strings" are less like strings and more like thick ribbons of green binary. Within the Antivoid, similar to Error, Trojan has a bunch of these ribbons hanging from the "ceiling". But unlike Error, written on these ribbons are the names and serial numbers of all the universes he's destroyed. It's his way of remembering them and memorializing them.

- The binary code surrounding him can spell out various small phrases or words relating to what he's feeling. Normally, they just spell out "Trojan". But as seen above in my paper sketches, they change periodically. The translations for the binary can be found underneath each sketch.

- Trojan's eyelights can change as well. They turn into 1s when he's surprised, angry, excited etc, and change to 0s when he's embarrassed, sad, worried, etc.

- When he's overwhelmed or confused, strings of binary cover his eyes.

If you have any questions about B-Side verse or the world itself, don't hesitate to send me an ask or a message!

Original Error by @loverofpiggies

(I hope tagging is alright-)

Extra info about B-Side verse :D

[snowpointscribbles]

so the plan for Ephemera and Catalyst is to make Ephemera have 4 Acts, and Catalyst have 3. like

E A1 -> C A1 -> E A2 -> C A2 -> E A3 -> C A3 -> E A4

So that’s the basic bit of how the series will be structured. except it’s actually So Much more complicated than that. not in the way of “oh there are more than these 7 Acts/Books” but more in the way of “yeah there are 7 books, but each book has a lot more than 1 Act in it.”

so the basic structure of each book can be summed up with this, using Act 1 as an example.

Act 1 Act 1 -> A1 Intermission -> A1A2 -> Intermission 1 A-Side -> Intermission 1 Downtime -> Intermission 1 B-Side

now i know what you’re thinking? why would i put myself or my readers through this hell? the answer is because this story has A Lot to cover, so not only would telling a single story in each book make the books Really Short, but i don’t really want to make readers have to buy like 50 books to get the full story.

plus, doing it like this not only lets me play with how the story is structured, but also makes it less likely for readers to skip an Intermission and suddenly have no idea what the hell is happening

so, what actually makes Acts, Intermissions, and Downtime different? well Acts are the main stories the primary characters go through, developing the parts of the world they experience, and their own character growth. Intermissions mostly feature side-characters, developing the surrounding world and the bigger plot at play. simply put, Acts are largely episodic, while Intermissions are serialized to bridge the gaps.

Downtime is where things get messy, though. the easiest way i can put it is that Downtime is an intermission to an Intermission. it usually follows the primary characters in their time between Acts, and are mostly focused on furthering character growth, and more lighthearted chapters that allow the characters to shine outside of Big Important Moments.

one of the main things i’m trying to reach with this weird ass structure is making the story feel like a TTRPG campaign. like, one of my first concepts for Ephemera from back when i was still in high school was the idea of a story where, when they get out of high stress situations, the characters actually take time to talk about and process everything they went through. i was so tired of stories that had crazy shit happen, and then the characters who experienced it just move on to the next thing, not allowing themselves to think about what they’ve been through.

Ephemera, when i have it written more, will be a story primarily about trauma and healing from it. each of the main party members have intense traumatic memories, and they all cope with them in different, often unhealthy ways.

[waugh-bao]

Portugal: Week 1

[kamitv]

▷ Someone Else?

Sypnosis . What happens when they find out you have a friend that’s a little too comfortable with you. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami Kento x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Choso Kamo x f!reader. / Content . afab!reader, possessiveness, toxic men, rough sex, reader is oblivious to someone flirting with her, praise, overstim, degrading, non-curse au, dirty talk, filth, mention of squirting, spitting, etc. / wc . 7.8k

A/N: Nanami lovers are about to eat GOOD with this one & writing this cured my depression abt Choso. This is based on this anon req btw; JJK men finding out about a close male friend— not proofread, there may be a lot of errors… [MDNI]

★ Choso Kamo

“Mine, mine, mine, mine,” Is just about all Choso could grunt against your lips as he fucked you down into the mattress. “You understand that, no? You’re all mine, princess.”

Panting heavily, nails scraping at his back, pussy stuffed full of cum that was dripping out and down onto the bed so messily— Choso had you ruined all because he found out you had some guy friend who may have flirted with you today.

“Fuckin’ answer me,” Choso groans. His lips are right against yours, cock buried inches deep into your cunt as your legs remained sprawled out for him.

“Y-Yes, C-Choso-, fuck!” You moan into the air, eyes watering at how rough your husband was being with you.

His head tipped to the side, “Who the fuck did that guy think he was, huh? Flirting with you like you’re not my goddamn wife.”

“C-Choso, p-please-,”

“Please what?” He growls, voice just as rough as his thrusts were with you, “Told’ you I didn’t like that guy months ago.”

Your jaw simply hands open, eyes hardly on your lover above you, “M’sorry.”

Choso scoffs, “I know you are. You should be.” He huffs as his balls slap against your skin with each thrust.

Panting, you gasp out his name, “Choso…” You utter just as a big pout pulls at your lower lip, eyes doe-like as you gaze up at the man.

He cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow at him, his dick twitching wildly inside you, “Don’t fuckin’ pouttt,” He coos, “Y’let that guy hug you like that today ‘nd you thought I was gonna be okay with that?”

You shake your head and a whine slips out, “N-No, but-“

“Shut up. I wasn’t done talkin’.” Choso cuts off meanly, rolling his eyes afterward, “Months I’ve been tellin’ you to distance yourself from him and yet here we are...” His body presses into yours and you whimper, feeling his hands grip your thighs tight enough to leave marks.

“Choso.” You call out, as if that’ll give you a second to escape him.

He holds back a whine that nearly escapes his throat due to how pretty you looked beneath him. Even upset with you, his cock pulsed and throbbed inside you by the mere sight of you whimpering below him.

“Fuck, I love you baby but damn,” He almost smiles at you, “I thought we talked about this?”

You take a deep breath, “W-We did, I just-“

Choso’s cock hits in deep, pelvis smacking against you constantly, “If you make another excuse for him m’gonna stop,” He tells you, hips slowing for only a second.

“N-No. Don’t stop, please.” You beg before moving your arms to wrap tighter around his neck and tug him closer.

“Mmmh,” He pouts to mock you but can’t deny the fact that the way you tugged him closer to you has his mind growing hazy for a second, “Don’t stop?” Choso asks.

He continues to slow down anyway, not yet coming to a halt but thrusts turning languid and listening to how your pussy messily slicks up his skin.

“Please, Cho, m-m’close.” You whisper, eyes silently begging him.

“Are you?” Choso questions, voice deeper than ever as he smirks, “Y’gonna cum f’me again? Wet up my cock so I can send that asshole a picture ‘nd show him whose dick you’re beggin’ for every night? Huh?”

Your back arches up off the bed a bit and your legs begin to cage around Choso’s waist, “Hahh, mmgh, t-that’s so… mean, Cho,” You whine in response, pouting again as your eyes water.

His pace had picked back up and you were being fucked into the mattress, a filthy mess of cum dripping down onto the bed below where the two of you were connected.

“Mean?” Choso echoes, the coldness of the wedding ring he’s got on his finger pressing further into your legs and making you shudder, “Baby… I can show you mean.”

You slide a hand up into his hair and pull his face closer to yours, attempting to kiss him, “Choso…”

He avoids your little gesture and teases you with a smile as he pulls up a little, “I could send him a video.”

“Choso please,” You frown at your husband’s sudden suggestion.

His dripping tip knocks against the hilt of your cunt, stuffing you full over and over before he finally let out a sigh, “Tch, fine. I won’t,” Choso hums, leaning closer to your face just like you originally wanted him to before whispering, “But don’t let me catch you around him again, okay?”

You nod and your eyes drop to his lips, “Okay.”

“Mh,” Choso hums against you as he finally gives you a slight kiss, feeling how you whine at the loss of the gentle contact when he pulls away, “Now tell me you love me, baby.”

You’re saying it faster than you could even process, “I love you, Cho.”

Oh his entire body reacts to that— hips drawing back, tip teasing your folds for a moment as he taunts you, “Yeah?”

“Mhmmm,” You hum eagerly.

His head tips to the side and he smirks, angling himself so that his cockhead bumps up against your clit, “How much?”

“Love you s’much,” You mumble, a slight whines leaving your throat after.

“Aww, do you? Y’love me so much?” Choso coos. His voice was as deep as ever but soft with you nonetheless before he moves his lips to your ear and shifts his cock back down to your twitching hole. Easing himself back in, “Or do you jus’ love gettin fucked like this?” Choso whispers.

The delicious stretch his cock created as it pushed back inside you had you gasping, “B-Both.”

“Both, huh?” Choso scoffs and his lips press against the shell of your ear, “Fuckin’ slut.”

Then he’s dragging his hips back and rutting them down into you with haste, listening to how each thrust makes you gasp and moan. You were so cute when you couldn’t handle him.

Your nails scratched at his scalp and his upper back, leaving bright red marks on his skin and making him hiss. Bulging cock sinking in and out of you so hard that all you could do was hold onto him and moan.

“H-Hhgnn…” You cry out— cunt tightening around him and earning a deep groan.

“Fuuuck, almost forgot you love that,” Choso huffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk, “Y’like it when I’m mean t’you, huh?”

“Ah, mgh, y-yeah,” Your voice comes in a sultry whimper and Choso groans again with how tight your pussy was clinging onto his cock, sucking him in deeper than he could handle.

His breath grows hot against your ear, “S’that why you let him hug you? You wanted to piss me off?” Thrusting harder and harder with his questions, your eyes begin to roll back.

“M-Maybe,” You manage to respond with a fucked-out smile taking over your expression.

“Maybe? Fuck, you’re so cute, baby.” Choso purrs, “If you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you and call you a slut, all you had to do was ask.”

And then he’s doing just as he’s described— plump cockhead abusing your sweet spot by hitting it over and over, “H-Hahh, ah, nngh, t-that’s-, fuck, e-embarrassing Cho.”

Choso chuckles, “Askin’ for me to do somethin’ I’ve done before during sex isn’t embarrassing, baby. Y’know I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

You start pouting all over again, babbling an “M’sorry,” Without really understanding why you’re still apologizing.

“Mhm. Prove it by squirtin’ on me again,” Choso tells you before moving to sit up. He then tugs your thighs over his and fuck does the tip of his dick make you see stars for a second as he repositions himself slightly.

His hands grip onto your hips and he continues his rough pace like it’s nothing, hair disbelieved with a few dark stands sticking to his forehead.

“Cho,” You say in attempt to convince him to slow down for a moment.

Unfortunately for you, your voice only drives him crazier. You were so whiney, it caused blood to rush to the head of his cock and his balls to ache— everything about you was intoxicating.

“I’ll send your lil’ friend a picture of these messy ass sheets afterward, ‘kay?” Choso pants, lips parting as he releases a slight moan from your pussy dripping all over him. Such a messy girl you were, not that he’d prefer you any other way.

“Choso.” You manage almost sternly, sending him a pointed look.

He pouts and decides to play innocent as if his cock wasn’t currently tearing you apart, “Don’t scold me, I gotta do something, baby.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach a hand down and graze his pelvis— making a fail of an attempt at pushing him away, “S’not nice.”

Choso snaps his hips forward as if to make a point and fuck his frustrations right into you, “Good thing m’not tryin’ to be fuckin’ nice then, right?”

★ Nanami Kento

Who swears he was never a jealous man. He's seen the way people look at you time and time again and never has he batted an eye-- why would he? Nanami's confident in himself enough to know that no other man would come in and steal your heart the way he has.

And such confidence remained up until today.

After a long day of work, there's nothing more he wants to come home to than his lovely girlfriend who he's been infatuated with for years now. Yet, today was different.

Walking into the shared apartment, unlike normal, you didn't come running up to him with a hug and a million kisses. Odd, he thought to himself, followed by a call of your name that echoed throughout the home.

"In the kitchen, Ken," You replied back, the sweet sound of your voice making him smile as he puffed out a sigh.

He's not sure where the momentary worry came from but it subsided as he figured you may have been busy with something. As Nanami takes his jacket off, he moves a hand to losen his tie, soon raking a hand through his hair afterward.

The house was awfully quiet, void of sounds of cooking or your voice-- which was, again, odd. Stepping out of his shoes, Nanami steadily makes his way to the kitchen, soon spotting you and feeling a thousand pounds of stress lift off of his shoulders at the mere sight of you.

And in a sundress no less. You were on your phone, fingers tapping away at the screen with a slight smile on your face, your body bent forward against the kitchen counter with your back arched ever so slightly as you stood comfortably.

The sound of footsteps approaching you made you turn your head toward you boyfriend and flash him a loving smile. "Hi Kento, how was work?" You chirped sweetly.

"Fine, my love. How was home?" Nanami replied sweetly as he leaned down to you. A sudden buzz from your phone made you move your gaze and Nanami found himself giving you a slight peck on your lips but your eyes were elsewhere.

Whatever was on your phone must've been quite intriguing. "Home was wonderful. I did some cleaning today so..." You trail off and Nanami just gazes at you as your words fade away.

His brows begin to push together, "So...?"

You blink a few times, fingers tapping away at your screen yet again, "So uh," Trying to focus on both your boyfriend and the male you were texting at the same time was proving to be rather difficult for you.

Hence why Nanami sighs heavily and moves a hand to your back, caressing you gingerly, "Everything alright, love?"

You nod, "Mhm... Sorry about that, Ken. What was I saying again?" You ask as you turn to him with curious eyes.

He gazes at you, wondering how your attention could be so diverted. This was unusual coming from you but he shrugs it off, "You were telling me about how you cleaned up today?"

"Oh! Yes, I was gonna say I felt rather productive today," You finally get out before, again, turning away and to your phone.

Nanami nods his head, "I see. Is there something going on, sweetheart?"

You chuckle, "What? No, why?"

For a moment, your boyfriend does nothing more than watch how consumed you are by the conversation taking place through text on your phone. "You seem awfully distracted, is all," He sighs.

"Ohhh, no," You smile, "It's just this coworker of mine was wondering why I didn't show up today and then he and I-"

"He?" Nanami echoes aloud mistakenly. He hadn't meant to voice that, it was more of a thought.

Slowly, your head turns to your boyfriend yet again and despite the smile on your face, your brows push together and your expression is skeptical, "Yes, Kento, he. Is that an issue?"

"No, of course not," Nanami shakes his head before glancing off to the side with a shrug, "I just wasn't aware you were so close with any of your male coworkers."

You blink, "I'm really not, it's just him."

For some reason, his heart pangs a bit as you say that, "Just him, huh?" Nanami hums to himself.

"Mhm," You nod. Then, ignoring the clear attitude this has brought on, you turn to your phone and return to your texting.

Steadily, Nanami's eyes trail back over to you and he watches you type before rolling his eyes. He's not even sure why this is bothering him but he then moves to stand behind you, his crotch pressing into your ass as he begins to crave more of your attention.

He's truly not used to it being on anyone else that's not him.

"And what are you two discussing now that's so..." His words trail for a minute, eyes dragging along the slight curve in your back as you remained arched perfectly in such an effortless way, "...Important," Nanami soon finishes with a sharp narrow of his eyes.

"Well, he asked to come over for some reason and I'm not really sure how to respond," You reply honestly as you stare at the most recently received text.

Nanami's head cocks back a bit and he scoffs, "He's asked to come over?"

You nod, "Yes."

There's a pause but then your boyfriend leans forward and you can feel his muscular thighs press into the back of yours as his torso leans over. A hand is placed on the counter beside your waist and you look back over your shoulder to see Nanami nearing you.

His gentle eyes meet yours, "Can I see?"

You grin innocently, having nothing to hide from him whatsoever, "Sure," Handing him your phone, Nanami doesn't hesitate to read the messages exchanged from the past hour or so, seeing that this coworker of yours has be trying to flirt with you for some time now.

"Hm," He hums, "Does he always refer to you as uh," He clicks his tongue and scoffs, "Pretty girl?"

You shrug, "Well, yes and I've asked him to stop-"

"And yet you keep talking to him instead of blocking his number?" Nanami cuts off faster than he means to, eyes flipping up from the phone and to your face.

You flash a sheepish little smile, not exactly understanding the issue here, "I mean, he is my coworker."

For a moment, the two of you just stare at one another. Nanami seems to be bothered but not exactly upset just yet, his brown eyes boring into yours as you have this completely clueless look on your face.

Weighing his head to the side ever so slightly, "...That enjoys flirting with you despite knowing you have a boyfriend?" Nanami finishes your statement for you questionably.

You bat your eyes at him and your brows go up, "W-Well-"

"Y'know what," Nanami places your phone down, "Why don't you invite him over?" He suddenly suggests.

You’re taken all the way back by the sudden statement, giving your boyfriend nothing more than a blank stare before uttering a baffled, "Huh?"

"Tell him he can come over,” He repeats, sliding the phone toward your hands and then moving his own to his belt. There’s a slight shuffle as he unbuckles his belt, the simply clacks making your heart skip a steady beat as you realize where he’s going with this. “I'll should be done by the time he gets here,” Nanami says.

Again, you blink in a confused manner before taking your phone up and doing as he’s just suggested— telling your coworker he can make his way over to you.

After which, you turn off your phone and return your eyes back to your boyfriend whose hands were busy tossing his belt onto the nearby floor. Your eyes then dropped down to his crotch and you swayed your hips to the side a bit to get a better look— spotting the heavy tent in his pants and gulping at the sight.

“Kento…” You hush out, earning a hum from him, “Is everything alright?” Your tone was so very soft and sappy with him, the sound making his heart ache in emotions beyond comprehension.

“Of course, my love,” He replies gently, sending you a quick smile, “I just need you right now, is that okay?”

Your gaze lifts and you meet his pretty brown eyes, lashes fluttering at how handsome he looks standing behind you, “You know that’s okay Ken, I’m all yours.”

He just about forgets the idea of restraint after that statement of yours. Of course he knows you’re all his but hearing it come out of your mouth with zero hesitation even after having another man flirt with you was…

Well, it was reassurance. Reassurance Nanami didn’t realize he enjoyed hearing.

Which is why he has you repeating similar phrases like that within the next few minutes as he fucks you into the kitchen counter.

Hips bruising with the way they were pressed into the counter edge, panties tugged to the side and nearly ripped off of you, back arched like a goddamn slut for your boyfriend, and messy folds stretched open as Nanami pounded his heavy cock into your tight hole— you were soon on cloud nine.

“Repeat that for me love,” Nanami grunts, breath coming out in heavy pants as his hips clash into yours over and over and over again.

You could hardly breathe properly and your mind was all frazzled, nearly everything that came out of your mouth was a moan and yet he still expected you to speak to him.

“K-Kento,” You gasp his name in erotic breathes, “Fuuuck, hahh, I… I said m’all yours,”

A sharper thrust is given in response to you, one of his hands gripping onto the bundled part of your dress at your lower back and the other coming down hard on your ass, “Yeah? All mine to ruin, right?” Nanami huffs out.

All you could do was nod, “Uhuh.” His hips were to damn harsh against your ass, thick cock drilling into your hole despite how lovingly he was speaking to you not too long ago.

“All mine to fuck senseless,” Nanami continues, his aroused tone making your cunt tighten around him.

Your jaw falls open as he starts knocking into that sappy spot inside you, each thrust making your legs quake and the fat of your ass ripple against him, “Yes Ken-, f-fuck.” You stammer, eyes watering and your nails scraping against the counter.

“Oh darling,” He groans, tossing his head back and then moaning at how wet you were for him, how easy it was for his cock to slide in and out and in and out, “Do you have any idea what you to t’me? Huh?” Nanami huffs.

“Mhmm,” You barely whine in response, your body jerking forward with his every mean thrust.

Steadily, he rolls his head back into place, eyes glancing down at the obscene stretch of your pussy lips around the shaft of his cock, “Are you sure? Y’know it upsets me to see another man flirt with you,” He says, voice surprising sturdy despite how well you’re taking him.

“M’sorry Ken,” You’re quick to apologize as if you’ve done something wrong and your boyfriend frowns at you.

“Huh. No need to be sorry, sweetheart,” Nanami coos, and god you feel your legs drawing together at how gentle his tone is with you. “S’not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong,” He whispers.

Followed by which is the slight shift in his hips, angling his thrusts a little and causing your entire body to twitch below him. Nanami knows every inch of your body like the back of his hand.

How could he not? He’s studied you very closely— hence why the slight shift causes the curve of his cock to just drill into you so hard that you’re seeing stars.

“Mmgh, ahh, hahh, K-Kento,” You whine, your torso beginning to lift from the counter as if to try to escape his thrusts for a moment.

Jaw gone slack, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth, nails scraping for some kind of hold, and legs shaking as they drew together— you were losing your mind.

“Hm?” Nanami replies so simply, too simply, as if he wasn’t currently fucking the air out of your lungs.

You gasp and your voice grows airy, “Fuck-, oh fuck… m’gonna cum again.”

He tilts his head and smiles, “Again? Aw, you’re so messy for me today,” Nanami says before his hand shifts into the arch of your back and he presses you down onto the counter.

Pinned, you could no longer try and escape his mean thrusts for even a second. Nanami was relentless with you, cock fucking you full, pussy drooling against him, coating his veins— you couldn’t even formulate proper sentences anymore.

“Hhggnh, hahhh, ah, ah…” You moaned loudly with not a single care in the world, eyes rolling back as your cheek pressed into the cold kitchen counter.

“So loud too,” Nanami comments. Then he’s leaning closer to you, cock bottoming you out and making you gasp and whimper.

“Kenn,” Is all you could say for a moment, eyes watering and breath leaving you.

His voice is suddenly next to your ear as his muscular frame leans over yours, “Yes love? I’m right here.” He emphasizes that last word with a deep thrust, making your legs nearly give out for a second.

“I know, I know-,” You babble, trying to pull your head away from his to escape his deep tone in your ear. “Fuck, fuuck, I feel you s’deep.” You whimper again, pouting while trying to catch a moment to breathe.

“Mmhmm, feel me riiight there, huh?” Nanami asks. And god was he right where you wanted him, fat cockhead jerking into your sweet spot and turning your legs into utter mush beneath him.

“Y-Yes, yes, m-mhmm,” Your squeeze shut and a tear rolls down your cheek, heavy pants leaving your throat, “Shit.”

Nanami moves to kiss the crown of your ear lovingly, “Aw, look at you. You close, pretty?”

You’re quick to nod without second thought, “Yes.”

“C’mon then,” His lips move and press against your ear, “Give it to me.”

And then you’re coming undone, repeating his name over and over, “K-Kento, Kento fuck-, Ken.” He loves it too, smiling against your ear as he grunts at the way your cunt throbs and twitches as you cum on his cock.

“Hahh, you sound so pretty moaning my name like that,” He comments before pulling away from your ear, “Look at me while you do it this time,” He utters, earning a steady turn of your head as you angle it back to meet his gaze. Then he smiles at you, hips rolling into you and tip smearing against your gummy walls, “Mhm, thaaat’s it— good girl.”

“Mmh, mmgh!” Your eyes flicker as he slows down to you can really feel him. “Ahh… K-Ken,” You whisper.

His cock aches inside you, “Repeat that, what’s my name?”

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to maintain eye contact, “Kento.”

“Whose cock are you makin’ a mess on right now?” He questions, tone a but harsh with you as he drags his hips back.

Snapping them forward just as you answer him, you end up stuttering, “Y-Yours Ken.”

“Mhm,” His brows tense as he pulls back yet again. This time, he moves a hand around and grabs ahold of your jaw, tugging your body up off the counter a bit and your face closer to his, “Last question. Who do you belong to, hm?”

“Y-You Kento, m’all yours,” You pant, lips wet with drool and eyes glossy from tears.

All Nanami does is flash a slight smile before he’s rutting his cock right back into you, watching and listening to the way oxygen leaves your lungs, “That’s right. All fuckin’ mine.” Nanami groans, lips nearing yours with the way he pulls you closer to him. Then he’s whispering, “And your little coworkers gonna understand that after today.”

Just before his lips are on yours, you manage a staggered little, “W-What?” In question.

He chuckles, “Oh, you didn’t hear him? He knocked on the door a few minutes ago,” Nanami tells you, watching your entire face twist up as you’re too fucked out to really understand that. “I’m sure he heard you moaning my name…”

★ Toji Fushiguro

“So, you hate me, huh?” Toji dramatically huffs out as soon as the two of you enter your home again.

You groan and stomp off to your shared bedroom, trying to escape your annoyingly jealous husband due to what’s recently occurred. You’re apparently not allowed to be friends with his friends— or at least, not Shiu Kong allegedly.

Toji’s quick to stride into the bedroom behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets as he watches you storm around the room with a smirk on his face. You were so cute when you were annoyed with him.

Tipping his head to the left, his eyes narrow at you snatching your jacket off as you tried to give him the silent treatment, “Not sure why you’re so upset, y’know. I wasn’t the one pressin’ my tits into someone’s face,” He scoffs.

His hands lift out of his pockets and he crosses his arms over his beefy chest, eyes yet to leave your overly annoyed figure standing by the bed.

You send him a pointed glare before openly rolling your eyes at him, letting him know you’re upset.

Toji cocks his head back at the gesture and his brows raise, “Fucks’ your problem, huh? Mad at me ‘cause of somethin’ you did?”

“No, Fushiguro. Leave me alone,” You huff, frustrated frown etching its way across your lips.

“Ohh, now she decides to speak? And she uses our last name to address me too?” Toji’s baffled by your little attitude, a bit entertained, but baffled nonetheless.

You sigh loudly and move to grab your nearest sweatpants, “Leave me alone.”

“Why, huh?” Toji scoffs, “Y’mad about what I said to Shiu?”

Your eyes move to a slow blink before you click your tongue, “Well, seeing as you told him never to come around us again and that I’m, apparently, ‘not his fuckin’ friend’, maybe.”

Toji doesn’t react much to you mocking him and his expression stays relatively the same, “The hell is wrong with my statement?”

“I made a mistake and you took it out on him,” You explain as you tug your sweats on and move to take your shirt off.

“No, you both made a mistake ‘nd I’m takin’ it out on both of you.” Toji corrects. He was a bit more upset than he led on, “Your dumb ass leaned over him for some stupid fuckin’ water bottle and his eyes went to your tits as if it were second nature.”

You grit your teeth, “It was an accident Toji.”

“Nah, fuck that. Accident my goddamn ass, how many times has he looked at you like that, huh?” Your husband suddenly questions, sounding like he was implying something more as he took a step closer to the bed.

Your brows push together and you shrug, “I don’t know-“

“Oh and let’s not forget the way he grabbed your waist to, what?” He scoffs, “‘Help’ you? ‘Keep you steady’?” Toji continues, hardly giving you a second to even try and respond, “Not sure where ya’ brains at today doll, but Shiu is way too fuckin’ comfortable touchin’ you and I don’t like it.”

You shoot him nothing more than a blank yet frustrated stare, “Toji.”

His eyes are already on yours, giving you the same energy through his looks, “What?”

Sighing, “You’re being dramatic.” You tell him.

That ticks him off just right because then his face is twisting up into a scowl, “Dramatic? I’m being fuckin’ dramatic? Girl don’t piss me off,” Toji warns.

You find the nerve to laugh at him, “Don’t piss you off? Toji you’ve been whining about this all damn day. It’s over now, isn’t it?”

He decides to ignore your little jab at him and he steadily walks over to the side of the bed you’re standing at, “No, it’s not. You haven’t even apologized.”

You chuckle, “For what?”

He finds himself standing not too far from you, glaring at your confused facial expression, “Bein’ mad at me for no damn reason, that’s what.”

You roll your eyes at him again, “Toji you told me I can’t be friends with your friend.”

“Maybe because he wants to fuck you?” Toji fires back.

Another scoff leaves you and you start shaking your head at your husband's ridiculous claims, “He doesn’t.”

“Soo, he just looked at your tits for no reason?" Toji asks, leaning toward you a bit and tilting is head as if to intimidate you, "He grabs your waist ‘nd says, 'I got you sweetheart' for no fuckin’ reason, right?”

Your throat runs dry at that. You may have forgotten Shiu said that to you, having not really paid much attention to it when he did, “I-“

“Do you not know what the fuck flirting looks like?” Toji lectures, taking one last step toward you so that his body was hardly an inch away from yours.

Your head tips back a bit so that you could look up at him, swallowing hard at how upset your husband seems to be and all your confidence on the matter nearly fading. “I do, but-“

“There is no but. He wants to fuck my wife," He interrupts, "Why the hell would I let you two be friends knowing that?”

That's when you sigh again, “Toji, you don’t know that he wants to fuck me, you’re assuming things-“

One of his hands flies up to his face and he starts rubbing his temples out of pure frustration, “Woman, he checks you out at every chance he gets when he thinks I’m not payin’ attention.”

“He-“

“He touched you all too inappropriately, right in front of me," Toji reminds you.

You try to take up for Shiu's actions, still not seeing what the issue behind it was, “He was making sure I didn’t fall over.”

A little pissed of smirk tugs at the corner of Toji's scared lips and he turns his head to the side as he looks away from you, scoffing, “Riiiiight.”

“I’m serious!” You utter pleadingly.

“So..." Toji slowly returns his gaze to you and his voice gets stern, "You don’t see anything sexual behind a man holding your waist and saying 'I got you sweetheart'?”

“No.” You reply confidently.

“Hm. Alright, then." Your husband nods before he's moving to pull his shirt up and over his head, your eyes widening at the man as one of his hands then go to your waist and he tugs your body to his, "Lemme show you somethin’ if that’s the case...”

And then you’re on the bed with your husband moments later— bouncing up and down on his hard cock as Toji fucked up into you, your tits jumping in his face, jaw hanging open, and his hands holding right onto your waist.

“See what I mean now?” Toji huffs, “See how fuckin’ sexual this shit is?”

“T-Toji-, hahhh, fuck, t-this is so much different," You moan at the constant stretch of his fat cock rutting up into your swollen folds, one of his thumbs at your clit as rolling circles over the twitching bud.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m doin’ what he fantasizes about," Toji tells you, smiling a bit as he watches your face twist up.

Your brows tensed and your jaw fell as his leaky cockhead drilled deep into you, “M-Mmgh, s-so… big.” You whine with your hands at his shoulders and nails scraping him as his harsh thrusts made your body jerk upward.

Toji's steel grip on your waist was the only thing keeping you from falling off of you, his fingers digging into your skin. Every time he thrusted his hips up, he'd use his grip to tug you back down-- forcing your cunt to spread open over his aching cock over and over, “Aww, don’t worry sweetheart, I gotchu’."

You gasp at his words, core throbbing due to his heavy tone, “Fuck-“

“Yeahh, see how fuckin’ wet that shit made you? Knew’ you weren’t fuckin’ stupid," Toji grunts out. He was so mean to you, taking out his frustrations from earlier on your pussy by soon spitting down on the, already, filthy mess below, adding to the slickness of it all and making you twitch.

Your hips try their best to keep up with him, rutting and rocking forward to keep his cock sucked deep inside you, “S-Shut up,” You tell your husband only to earn a scoff.

“Nahh," Toji begins to move his hands and your heart jumps. He tugs your torso near his before he's wrapping his big arms around your waist, locking you into place above him with your chest sandwiched against his, "Apologize t’me."

Your brows furrow and your eyes gloss over as his hips begin to pound his swollen cock up into you, obscene squelches of your cunt following as he does so. Your words come out in a whiney stammer, “F-For what-“

“Playin’ fuckin’ dumb, that’s what," Toji cuts off, eyes staring right into yours as he watched your face sink into that pretty fucked out state.

“Shiit," You gasp at how you couldn't move an inch, couldn't pull away or slow his thrusts down for a moment, forced to take every thick inch of his cock, "O-Okay, m’sorry-,”

Toji smiles, “Again.”

“M’sorry Toji," You whine. His arms were wrapped around you so tightly that you couldn’t even look away from him. You were both embarrassed and being fucked to tears simultaneously.

“Mmmh, without the mumblin’ this time," Toji instructs, gaze dropping to your wet lips so he can watch how you struggle, "Talk proper to me, girl.”

And of course, right after he he says that to you, he decides to then flip you both over so he's on top. “I-, hahh," You pant at the way his hands move to your legs and press them down against your chest, folding you up just how he wants to. "I’m… s-sorry Toji," You cry out.

With the way he's bucking his hips down into you, suddely calculated with his thrusts and making your eyes go wide. You were on the verge of screaming his name with how good his cock felt splitting you open.

“Close, but y’still stuttered," Toji tells you. His breathing was growing just as heavy as yours but that didn't stop him from teasing you for even a second.

“Fuck you-," You breathe out, earning a smile from him, "...I’m sorry.” You end up saying anyway because how could you disobey your husband when he's got you folded up like this, his veins throbbing against your gummy walls as you squeezed the life out of his cock.

Toji tilts his head a little, “Sorry what?”

“I-I’m sorry Toji," You correct yourself before he's leaning his weight onto you and god his cock pushes impossibly deeper. You were so full of him that air was getting hard to come by.

“Oneee more time f’me, baby," Toji whispers all of a sudden, his face close to yours and your legs practically over his shoulders. "C’mon, you can do it.”

“Hhgnnn… oh-, mmgh… I…" Your jaw falls open again and you struggle. His cockhead was hitting your insides right where you needed him, you could feel your core tensing and your legs going numb, "...I’m sorry Toji.”

Your husband smiles at you, “There ya’ gooo, atta’ girllll.” He praises, feeling the way your pussy narrows tightly around his cock just as you start cumming on him.

“Fuck.” Is the most you could get out of your mouth that wasn't an incoherent moan.

Then Toji notices you trying to move your hands to push him away a little and he softens his tone, “Hey, stop thaat, don’t give out on me," Toji coos, the sudden softness making your stomach churn before he moves a thumb to your clit again, "I gotchu’, pretty girl.”

“F-Fuck. Ohmygod-“ Your back arches up off the bed a bit and you whimper.

Toji just gawks at you, “Uhuh, now… y’won’t talk to Shiu again after this, right?” He questions, juuust to be sure you got the message after all this.

You nod in agreement, “N-No, I-, mmh, I won't t-talk t'him again…”

Fat cock rolling down into your pussy, your slick making his cock slid in so easily, “Y'sure?”

You nod, “Yes.”

Toji pouts a little just to mock the face you were making, “Yes who?”

Your eyes just barely meet his and his thumb presses against your clit, making your voice come out in a moan, “Yes Toji.”

“Mh," He hums, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, "Good girl.”

★ Gojo Satoru

He doesn’t even let you explain yourself.

One ninety-second hug with some guy you claim you’ve known since college, his arms around your waist and yours wrapped around his neck— was just about all it took for Gojo to get the picture.

Then there was the way the guy whispered into your ear and you laughed-, no, giggled at whatever was said.

What else does Gojo need to know after that? Clearly you forgot who you’ve been dating for the past few years…

Which is why Gojo reminds you through rough backshots in the backseat of your car as soon as you return to him. He hand a heavy hand on the back of your head, pressing your face down against the carseat as his toned hips clashed into your ass.

Swollen cockhead pushing past your twitching folds for the nth time while he bullies into your pussy. The loud smack of his balls against you fills the entirety of the vehicle, Gojo’s free hand pressing down into your arch and furthering it for him so he could angle his dick into that spot that makes you utterly weak.

“Wonder what the hell was so funny,” He huffs. He’s breathless by this point, having been dirty talking your ear off and giving you no time to respond— telling you how pretty your pussy looks taking every inch of him and how cute you sound crying his name into the seat.

“M-Mmgh, hnngh… ahh, S-Satoru,” Your voice was muffled against the carseat but neither of you cared, he heard you clear enough.

“Hm? What was so funny, baby? Tell me,” Gojo requests, not slowing his thrusts down for even a moment.

Merciless, he was. Fucking you like you were a goddamn slut off the street and he was a sex-deprived man, his pelvis was so angry against you, leaving marks with how harshly it met your ass, a hand moving every now and then just to palm the fat of the slight curve.

You were too busy drooling onto the carseat, cockdrunk out of your mind and fucked out beyond belief. You don’t think Gojo’s ever fucked you this hard before— the car was rocking with his every thrust and you’re pretty sure your muffled moans could be heard from outside the vehicle.

Sure, your windows had tint on them but it still wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what was going in within the car.

“What was he sayin’ t’you? Huh? Was he tellin’ you how badly he wants to fuck you? S’that why you laughed?” Gojo scoffs, still giving you no time to respond whatsoever, “I’d laugh too, shit… No one gets to fuck you aside from me, after all.” He finishes off with a cheeky little shrug.

You hated how much he was rambling right now but your brain was too consumed in pleasure to really care, “Toruu, fuuck-, oh, mmh…”

“No one else gets to feel this pussy suck the soul outta’ their cock, right?” Gojo groans, tossing his head back and drilling himself into the hilt, almost as if he were trying to reach deeper, “Jus’ me?”

All you can do is hum messily, “Mhmmm.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle and his hand lands across your ass again, head moving yo look down at the marks he’s left thus far before he cracks a smile, “Say it.”

“J-Jus’ you, ‘Toru.” Your voice was small, hardly audible but Gojo didn’t much care, he’d heard enough anyway.

So, he smiles at your struggle in speech, finding you nothing but adorable in this state, “Yeahh, that’s my girll.”

Then he’s moving his hands, feeling every inch of your body like he always does. There’s never a single part of you that goes untouched by Gojo Satoru when he fucks you. And as of right now, his large hands were taking place on your ass, spreading you apart to get a better look at your wet parted folds sucking in his cock.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ pretty takin’ my dick like this too. I mean damn,” Gojo lets out a moan in between his sentence, unable to help himself at the sight before him, “Look at her drip all over me. She’s nasty, baby.”

Then he’s slowing his thrusts, but not stopping. Instead he gets calculated, fucking his cock in slow but pointed, top poking at your gummy spot and making your legs quake.

Drool smears across your cheek and your face was a goddamn mess but, you’d worry about all that later, “S-S’toru…”

“Mhm, I know, you’re about t’cum again, huh?” Gojo hums sweetly, the wet sounds of your cunt taking him in making his brows tense.

You were in complete disarray— debauched and filthy just how he liked. Shooting a glop of spit down onto his cock, he watched with a smile as he eases forward before there’s nothing more than an inch left out of you, only to thrust the last bit in and watch your fingers curl as you scrape against the seat.

“Uhuhh,” You breathe helplessly.

Gojo cocks his head to the side, “Gonna make another mess on me, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yeahh.”

“Mhm, good,” Gojo praises lightly before pulling out. He takes his cock into one of his hands and taps it against your pussy folds, listening to the light and wet smack his cock made against you and biting his lower lip, “But y’know… I wonder what had you so wet, baby.” He teases.

That was the only chance you got to catch your recently lost breath and you angle your head back a little to look at him, “Hm?”

Gojo’s eyes were down as he watched himself play with your pussy, smearing his leaky his tip in between your folds, “Was it him? Did he tell you how pretty you looked today? Hm?” Gojo wonders, “S’that why your cunt was droolin’ before I could even get your panties off?”

Your brows tense and you try wiggling your hips back a little, “N-No…”

“No? Aw, so what was it then?” Your boyfriend questions curiously. He’s now pushing an inch in and out of your cunt, watching how your pussy twitches everytime he pulls out and chuckling at you, “Surely it wasn’t the way I was rubbin’ my fingers against you… Nah, you were too busy thinkin’ about that other guy, right?”

You groan, “No, ‘Toru.”

He snickers, “No? Buut, you guys looked like you had a great convo.”

“W-We did but that’s only cause… hahh… mmmh, I-,” Gojo starts inching more of his cock into you and you struggle to finish explaining. After taking a deep breath, “I spent the whole time talkin’ a-about you.”

“Aww, really?” His hips snap forward after you say that, “Fuck, you bragged about me?” Gojo moans out, face growing hot with arousal.

Nodding, you hum in response, “Mhmm.”

“Shiit, that almost makes me feel bad,” Gojo pouts a little before shifting his palm over your ass, caressing your skin tenderly.

He’s still rutting his dick in and out of you but his voice and his touch is much softer.

“W-Why?” You ask.

“Cause’…. I’m fuckin’ you like you did somethin’ wrong for no reason…” Gojo whispers, seeming to be disappointed in himself for a second.

Then, he sees the way your eyes go back as his cock hits that one spot again, “Mmgh.. S-Satoru, r-right theree…”

And with that, he’s no longer disappointed and shrugs off all his doubts, going on to fuck you like he’s mad at you, “S’okay tho’, you like me like this anyway…”

p.s. ty guys for 1k followers here :3

[osachiyo]

“ B-BODY SEARCH? ”

# pairing: mean!colonel caleb x fem!reader

# tws: n/sfw content, 0.7k+ wc, dub-con, pussy inspection (?), rough s.ex, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, mean!caleb, body search, his mechanical arm vibrates bc why tf not, degradation, might be ooc 😭 + not proofread so i apologize for any errors/mistakes.

# note: can you guys tell I love mean!caleb… wrote this almost being half asleep at 3 am so this might suck ass idk ✌🏽

Caleb's eyes are hard and unyielding as he pins you with a stern glare, his jaw clenched tight. He's done playing nice. Done with your constant defiance and reckless disregard for your own safety. If you won't take this seriously, then he'll just have to get serious for you.

"Strip," he commands, his voice brooking no argument. "Now."

He stands over you, arms crossed over his broad chest as he waits for you to comply. When you hesitate, his patience snaps like a frayed rope. In a flash, he's on you, gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head.

"Don't test me, pipsqueak," he growls, eyes flashing with warning. "I'm not in the mood for games."

His hands make short work of your clothes, practically tearing them from your body in his haste. Button by button, zipper by zipper, he strips you bare until you're left with nothing but the chill of the air and the heat of his gaze.

His eyes rake over your naked form, searching for any sign of contraband. They linger on your tits, your stomach, your hips... pausing for a long moment as they reach the apex of your thighs. A cruel smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Spread these pretty legs f’me, baby" he orders, voice dripping with condescension. "Let's see if you're hiding anything... down there."

He punctuates his command with a harsh squeeze to your inner thigh, fingers digging into your soft flesh. When you don't move fast enough to suit him, he grips your knee and wrenches your leg to the side, exposing you completely.

"Fuckin' hell," he mutters, eyes glinting with a wicked light as he takes in the sight of your exposed pussy. "You're dripping already, aren't you? Dirty girl, getting turned on by a search. I should've known you'd be a little slut."

He reaches out, fingers brushing against your folds with a feather-light touch. A shudder wracks your body at the contact, a gasp escaping your lips. Caleb just grins, a wicked curve to his mouth as he parts your lower lips with his gloved fingers.

"Let's see what we have here," he taunts, voice low and mocking. "Just a messy little cunt, so wet and ready for my attention. Is this really turning you on right now?"

Caleb's smirk grows wider, crueler, as he takes in the debauched sight of your dripping pussy. He can't resist reaching out, running a single finger along your slit, feeling the slick heat that coats his skin. A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest at the sensation.

"Just look at you—so fuckin’ desperate," he taunts, circling your clit with a maddeningly slow rhythm. "Desperate for attention, for release. Buuuut—you've been a bad girl, haven’t you, sweetheart? So you don't get to cum until I say so."

His eyes glint with a wicked promise as he raises his mechanical hand, the metal fingers glinting under the harsh light. Your eyes widened in half shock—half horror as his fingers started vibrating. A sadistic grin spreads across his face as he positions the buzzing fingertips at your entrance.

"Let's see how long you last, slut," he growls, pressing the vibrations against your aching core.

He starts slow, teasing, the buzzing sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction, but he holds you down, pinning you in place.

"Thaaaat’s it—fuckin’ grind on it," he snarls, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Fuckin’ take it like the desperate little whore you are."

He increases the intensity, the vibrations growing stronger, more insistent. Your walls clench around the buzzing tip, your body coiled tight as a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment.

"C-caleb, ohh—fuck!" you cry out, back arching off the bed as you teeter on the brink of ecstasy.

"That's right, scream for me," he egged, voice dripping with cruel amusement. "Let everyone know what a dirty slut you are."

He can feel you tightening, gooey walls fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm builds to a crescendo. He knows you're right on the edge, ready to fall over into sweet oblivion.

But at the last possible second, he rips his hand away—leaving you empty and aching, teetering on the razor's edge of climax. A frustrated sob tears from your throat at the sudden loss of stimulation, “nonono please—I was s’close—wanna cum s’bad!”

"Well that’s too damn bad, isn’t it, sweet girl?" Caleb taunts, a wicked grin on his face as he watches you squirm and beg, wiping the slick-soaked metal on your thigh. "Brats don't get to cum—you only cum when I allow it. We’re just getting started and let’s just say… you’re not cumming anytime soon.”

++ LADS M.LIST

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSTURNIOLO TRIPLETS GO TO EUROPE * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N, Matt's girlfriend, participates in the 'STURNIOLO TRIPLETS GO TO EUROPE VLOG' video.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The first-class cabin was nothing short of a dream. The softly lit hallway stretched ahead of them, lined with elegant partitions that gave each seat its own private cabin. Y/N walked just behind Matt, his hand warm and firm around hers as they walked the narrow aisle. Nick was leading the way, already peeking into his assigned space, while Chris trailed behind them.

When they finally stopped at their row, Y/N’s jaw dropped. She took a tentative step into her cabin, her eyes wide as she looked around at the plush leather seat that reclined into a bed, the medium lit up screen in front of it, and the small touches of luxury like the pillow and blanket tucked neatly on the side.

"This is amazing." She breathed, turning back to the boys with a grin so bright it could’ve lit up the plane.

Chris, peering into his own cabin a few steps away, nodded enthusiastically.

"This is insane. It feels like a movie."

Matt sent the softest gaze at Y/N's way after watching her reaction, his expression gentle and boyish as he nodded, his eyes sparkling. He felt like a proud boyfriend for being able to give that experience for his girlfriend.

"It really is, huh?" He muttered, receiving a soft laugh from Y/N, who took her backpack off her back and handed it to him.

"Here, baby." She said, motioning to the space above them. "Can you put this up there for me? Please."

Matt took the bag, glancing up at the overhead compartment with a slight frown. It wasn’t immediately obvious how to open it, and he hesitated, looking around for guidance. Nick, already settled into his cabin beside Matt’s and recording the entire interaction on his phone, tilted his head toward the compartment.

"Matt, up." Nick said as he pointed.

Matt squinted, his confusion deepening.

"Where?"

Nick let out an exaggerated sigh, still recording.

"In the thing! Hold the handle and lift it, Matt."

Matt gave him a glare before following his directions. He tugged the compartment open and slid Y/N’s bag inside, muttering something about Nick always being a know-it-all, earning a quiet laugh from Y/N.

Finally, with everything in place, Matt stepped into his own cabin. It didn't take long before the hum of the plane filled the air, preparing to take off soon.

Y/N - who had been watching TikTok while it was still up - threw her phone inside her purse and looked around while trying to get comfortable on her seat, but sighing in frustation when she was unsuccessful.

She returned her feet to the ground and curved her upper body so she could see the hallway, biting her lip as she peeked at Matt's cabin. He had already settled in, reclining in the single "bed" with his hoodie draped loosely over his shoulders.

He felt eyes on him and was quick to look up, catching her hesitant gaze, a soft smile growing on his face, already knowing what she wanted, gently patting the small space beside him.

"Come here, sweetheart." He murmured, scooting closer to the window to make room.

Without hesitation, Y/N got up and crossed the small hall that put a distance between them, climbing in his bed, squeezing into the limited space. It was a tight fit, but neither of them minded.

Matt pulled the blanket over them, wrapping it snugly around her before slipping an arm around her waist, holding her close. Her head nestled against his shoulder, her breath warm and comforting against the skin of his neck.

Reaching for his headphones, Matt placed them back around his head, music already filling his ears. He stretched his free arm, fingers hovering over several titles across the small TV screen before settling on one of Y/N’s favorites, a light, cozy movie he knew she adored.

He pressed play and felt her shift slightly, her gaze flickering toward the screen as the opening scene began. She hummed in approval, though her eyelids were already drooping. Within minutes, she succumbed to the exhaustion of their long day, her arm draped around his chest as she snuggled closer. Matt rested his cheek against the top of her head, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles over her arm, his hoodie’s soft fabric gliding against her skin.

For the first time since their frenetic day began, he felt himself relax.

He glanced toward the small window beside him, catching a glimpse of the night sky dotted with stars and the lights of the airport shining in the darkness. He hummed faintly, the moment feeling both surreal and comforting.

Suddenly, Matt caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly, he saw Nick approaching their cabin with his phone out, clearly recording. Matt shot him a glare, silently warning him to keep quiet.

Nick stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at his brother’s protectiveness. He panned the phone camera toward them briefly, whispering something to the device while capturing Y/N tucked into Matt’s side and the faint glow of the screen in front of them before backing away with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Matt let out a breath of relief, tightening his hold on Y/N just a fraction as she shifted in her sleep, her fingers curling into his hoodie.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the quiet luxury of the hotel hallway. Y/N trailed by Matt's side, while Nick and Chris followed, their rolling suitcases rattling faintly on the polished floor. The flight from Boston had been long, and exhaustion clung to all of them, but the excitement of finally arriving at their destination had them buzzing with energy.

"Alright, room 111." Matt said confidently, stopping in front of the door. He placed the card against the magnetic circle above the handle, and the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked. With a grin, he grabbed the handle and gave it a sharp pull.

Nothing happened.

He frowned, pulling again, harder this time, but the door didn’t budge.

Nick’s laughter echoed down the hall.

"It’s a push door, genius."

"Is it?" Matt muttered, frowning harder as he pulled once more, just to make sure.

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping forward.

"Move, Matt." She said with a teasing sigh, nudging Matt gently to the side. She took the card from his hand, placing it again against the magnetic circle, and waited for the soft beep. With one fluid motion, she pushed the door open, revealing their room. Turning back, she shot Matt an amused, bored look. "It's not because we're in a different country that the way to open doors changed, honey."

Matt opened his mouth to reply, but Chris cut in with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder.

"That’s tough, bro."

Y/N stepped inside first, and her breath hitched as she took in the sight before her. The room was a perfect blend of elegance and comfort, screaming Italian luxury.

To her front was a small white round table paired with two armchairs, a bouquet of vibrant green and white flowers arranged in a glass vase on top. Two letters sat neatly against it, each embossed with the Prada logo and addressed to both her and Matt. The sweet, rich aroma of the flowers filled the air, mingling with a faint hint of fresh linen and polished wood.

Directly to her left was an oval center table in marble, elegantly decorated with fancy chocolates, juicy fruits, and another small floral arrangement, the delicate blooms adding a pop of color to the space. Behind it sat a medium terracotta couch with two tall shelves on each side and a painting that seemed to be worth a lot.

Beyond that was the plush king-sized bed that seemed to be the most comfortable bed in the world, dressed in crisp white linens and framed by soft, warm lighting.

The tall windows occupying the whole largest wall were framed by heavy creamy curtains, slightly parted to reveal a hint of the garden below.

Y/N moved further into the room, running her fingers lightly along the wall as she absorbed every detail.

"This is..." She paused, unable to find the right word.

"Insane? Yeah." Chris finished for her, stepping in behind her with his backpack in his hands. "This is like... next-level fancy."

Nick whistled low, setting his backpack near the round table.

"This room smells expensive." He said, sniffing the air exaggeratedly.

Matt closed the door behind him, his earlier mishap forgotten as he put his backpack on the short hallway floor, meeting Y/N in the way and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"You like it?" He asked, his voice soft in her ear. She turned to look at him, her lips curving into a warm smile.

"I love it. Prada did amazing with this choice."

As the triplets wandered around, taking in the luxurious details and pointing out things to the phone Chris had whipped out, Y/N let herself enter the bathroom, pulling her skincare bag out of her purse to start organizing the main products across the sink.

Meanwhile, Matt was quick to throw himself on the plush king-sized bed, making sure to take out his shoes first - Y/N would kill him if he didn't, closing his eyes and feeling like he could fall asleep right away.

But he was quickly disturbed by a body crashing against his, his legs quickly pressing to his own chest in a way of protecting it while Nick jabbed his sides with fake punches, so soft that felt like he was tickling his skin.

"What the- get off me, Nick!" Matt yelled between fits of uncontrollable laughter, his voice muffled by his position.

Chris stood at the foot of the bed, phone in hand, recording the chaotic scene.

"This is gold." He said, laughing as Matt tried to wriggle free, his giggling echoing throughout the room.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom holding her, now, empty purse. She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of the boys acting like overgrown kids. Rolling her eyes, she let out a small laugh and shook her head.

She was away for only 10 minutes.

"Boys." She said in a mock-scolding tone, her voice soft and affectionate. "Be careful, please." She walked past Chris, her lips quirking into a smile as she gave his phone camera a pointed glance.

The youngest triplet chuckled.

"Don't worry, they will survive."

Y/N moved to the small couch at the back of the room where Matt put her backpack, leaving the chaos to happen behind her back. She retrieved her phone and then turned to the center table, spotting the tray of fancy chocolates Prada had left for them.

Picking one up, she inhaled deeply, savoring the rich aroma of high-quality chocolate before taking a small bite of it, feeling the unique taste explode against her tongue.

"Good?" Chris called over, turning away from Nick and Matt after they finally stopped.

"Delicious." Y/N replied, her words muffled as she chewed.

She walked towards him while chewing, watching Nick and Matt get off the bed, her steps muffled by the carpet.

"Nick, get the real camera so I don't have to vlog on my phone anymore." Chris asked as soon as Nick got closer, lowering the device slightly.

Nick was quick to go to his backpack, taking the professional camera out of it. It didn't take long for him to turn it on, quickly spinning it around to make sure it was capturing the right angle.

Matt, who looked disheveled with his hoodie slightly wrinkled and his hair a chaotic mess after Nick's earlier wrestling match, stopped by Y/N's side, standing between her and Chris.

"Alright, this is Matt's and Y/N's room. They're in a different room than the one me and Chris are staying-"

"Cause' we’re special." Matt quipped, his tone dripping with mock superiority as he glanced at Chris with a playful smirk.

Chris rolled his eyes, leaning away from Matt slightly.

"Can you fix your hair?" He gestured at Matt’s wild hair, a grin tugging at his lips.

Matt immediately raised a hand to his head, running his fingers through the messy strands.

"My hair’s all messed up ‘cause I had a hood on during the plane, and then Nick decided to fucking kill me as soon as we got here." He shot a pointed look at Nick, who was laughing behind the camera. "I'm not trying to-"

"Okay, let me show you guys all the things in the room." Nick was quick to interrupt them, turning the camera toward the room to defuse the situation. "First of all, gorgeous..."

Meanwhile, Y/N was silent by their side, phone in hand, finishing up a text to both her and the triplets' parents to let them know they’d arrived at the hotel safely. With a small smile growing on her face after listening to the small fight starting between the brothers, she slid her phone into her back pocket.

"... and I'm so fucking hungry now." Chris kept talking, his tone sounding frustrated as Y/N walked closer to them, the sound of Nick's voice showing the details of the room to the camera echoing like background noise to her ears.

Without saying a word, she stood in front of Matt, her hands reaching up to his hair. Matt didn’t miss a beat, continuing his conversation with Chris about where they should eat later.

"We can maybe go somewhere close. I don’t feel like walking too far tonight." Matt said as Y/N gently smoothed down the mess on his head, her fingers combing through his hair with practiced ease.

"There. Now you don’t look like a trainwreck." Y/N smiled, stepping back to admire her work before patting Matt’s shoulder, stepping away to return to the back of the room, planning on getting another one of those wonderful chocolates.

"Thanks, babe." Matt said nonchalantly, flashing her a soft smile before turning back to Chris. "Okay, so what are the options?"

With another piece of chocolate in her hands, she wandered toward one of the tall windows at the far end of the room.

The elegant window door opened with a soft creak, and a gust of crisp winter air swept through the room, sending a slight chill up her spine. Y/N leaned against the frame, her gaze falling to the breathtaking garden below.

The perfectly trimmed hedges, circular topiary trees, and an array of greenery gave it a serene ambiance. Umbrella-covered tables and chairs were scattered around, surrounded by other buildings of the hotel.

"Wow." She murmured to herself, finishing the chocolate as she took in the sight. She turned her head slightly, calling out to the boys behind her. "Hey, guys, come look at this!"

Chris was the first to respond, bouncing across the room like an excited puppy, followed by Nick and Matt.

"What is it?" Nick asked as he reached her side, peering out over her shoulder.

"Look." Y/N said, gesturing to the garden below. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Chris opened the other half of the window, copying Y/N's position and looking below it.

"Can we go down there?" He asked as he squinted at the view.

"We have to figure it out." Nick affirmed, making sure the camera was recording the details.

Matt slid his arm around Y/N's waist, leaning over the window frame to get a better look. His cheek brushed against hers briefly as he turned his head, her hair tickling his skin.

"I'd love to go down there." He chimed in softly, his voice warm.

Y/N glanced at him, her smile widening at the way his eyes lit up as he looked down at all the green. He was living his dream, and she felt purely joy from it.

Her hand met his on her waist, intertwining their fingers against her covered skin, squeezing his hand lovingly.

"Can we go eat now?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was tucked away down a cobblestone street, just a short walk from the magnificent Duomo. The golden light spilling from the windows reflected off the polished wooden tables and pristine white tablecloths. The tantalizing scent of fresh pasta, basil, and garlic wafted through the air as waiters bustled around, balancing plates piled high with creamy sauces and twirling spaghetti.

At a corner table by the window, the four of them sat, barely holding it together after being awake for more than 24 hours. Nick slouched in his chair, lazily twirling his fork in a bowl of spaghetti, his eyelids drooping every few seconds. Chris leaned against the backrest with his elbows on the table, his mouth occasionally opening in a massive yawn between bites of fettuccine Alfredo. Matt, seated beside Y/N, kept absently running a hand through his messy hair, trying to stay awake while cutting into his lasagna.

Y/N, however, was the first to cave. The warm pasta in front of her - ravioli, creamy and rich - was absolutely delicious, but exhaustion was screaming inside her far more than hunger. She managed to eat only half before resting her fork on her plate with a soft sigh.

Matt glanced over at her, his brows pulling together in concern.

"You’re not eating more?" He asked, his voice soft but tinged with worry. "We barely ate today, honey."

Y/N shook her head wordlessly, too tired to explain that she simply couldn’t eat another bite. Instead, she shifted closer to him, tucking herself above his right biceps and resting her head on his shoulder. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, squeezing him in a sleepy hug as she snuggled into his warmth.

Matt froze for a moment, holding his fork mid-air.

"Careful, sweetheart." He murmured, glancing down at her arms as they brushed the edge of his plate. "Don’t burn yourself on the lasagna." His voice was tender, and his free hand came up to lightly guide her arm away from danger.

"Hmm." Y/N hummed softly in acknowledgment, but her eyes were already closed. She didn’t seem to care much about the logistics of arm placement as she burrowed further into his side, her body practically melting against his.

The faint chuckle that escaped Matt’s lips was filled with affection as he returned to his food, though his movements were slower now, not wanting to disturb her.

"Wow." Nick muttered, his voice barely audible through his drowsiness. He leaned his chin on his palm and smirked at the sight of Y/N clinging to Matt like a koala. "She’s really comfortable, huh?"

"Looks like it." Chris added with a teasing grin, his hand subtly moving to grab his phone from the table. He couldn’t resist recording the scene in front of him; his brother’s flushed face, Y/N’s sleepy frame wrapped around Matt like he was her personal pillow, and Matt’s barely-there attempts to keep a straight face.

"Shut up." Matt muttered, rolling his eyes at his brothers while trying to keep his voice quiet enough. His head lowered slightly to press a soft, awkward kiss to the top of Y/N’s head, the angle slightly off because of her position, but the sweetness in the gesture made up for it.

Chris snickered quietly, his phone still recording as he whispered.

"Two years, and you’re still whipped, dude."

Matt didn’t even bother denying it. Instead, he simply adjusted his arm to hold her a little closer, his hand resting lightly on the right side of her thighs, bringing her legs closer. The movement was protective and tender.

"At least I’m not about to fall asleep in my pasta." He shot back softly, motioning toward Nick’s plate, where his fork was dangerously close to slipping from his fingers as he nodded off.

They continued eating in hushed tones, with Chris occasionally pausing to stifle his laughter at Nick falling asleep while chewing. Meanwhile, Y/N remained blissfully unaware of all of it, her breathing slowing as the sound of the boys’ voices blended into a soothing hum. She was vaguely aware of Matt’s hand moving to eat, but she trusted him to be careful enough not to burn or drop it on her.

When the waiter eventually came by to clear the plates, Matt stopped him, pointing to Y/N’s unfinished plate.

"Can we get this to go?" He asked softly, his voice still gentle as if not to wake her. The waiter nodded, and Matt gave him a thankful smile before returning his attention to her.

Chris finally pocketed his phone and leaned back in his chair, a grin plastered on his face.

"Well." He said quietly, looking between the three of them. "I guess this counts as a successful first dinner in Milan."

Matt hummed in agreement, pressing his cheek against Y/N’s hair, turning his focus back to his brothers.

"Are you going to meet Laura, Nick?" He asked, looking at the oldest triplet, who nodded while pressing his fingers to his eyes. "Okay, we can go wait for you at the Du... Duo... that bright building."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The patio in front of the Duomo was vast and bustling, even late at night. The trio stood at the edge of the square, far enough from the chaos of tourists to have a quiet moment while they waited for Nick.

The cold nipped at their faces, the chill of the Milanese night seeping through their jackets. Y/N was wrapped snugly in Matt’s arms, her cheek pressed against his chest as she tried to stay warm - or at least that’s what it looked like. In truth, she was barely awake, her head lolling slightly every now and then. Matt’s oversized jacket was draped over her shoulders on top of her own, cocooning her as she clung to him.

Matt squinted at Chris’s camera, his breath visible in the cold as he began.

"Alright, I’m not going to embarrass myself by trying to say the name of this building again, but me, Chris, and Y/N are enjoying it from afar."

Chris snorted from behind the camera, tilting it slightly to frame the scene better.

"Well, me and you." He corrected, his voice dripping with humor. "Because Y/N is sleeping standing up."

Matt couldn’t hold back his laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against Y/N’s cheek. He looked down at her, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face, his fingers gentle.

"She really is." He said with a grin, glancing at the camera again.

"I’m not!" Y/N protested weakly, her voice muffled as she buried herself further into Matt’s chest. She tried to lift her head to prove them wrong but only managed to half-open her eyes, her words slurring slightly. "I’m... I’m seeing the church. It’s beautiful."

Her attempt at defiance only made Matt and Chris laugh harder.

"Yeah, sure." Chris teased, zooming in slightly on her face before panning back to Matt.

"Guys, we just went out to eat." Matt started to the camera, still chuckling. "And we were literally all falling asleep at the table."

Chris spun the device to face himself, nodding vigorously.

"We were all so tired because we’ve been up for over 24 hours. Like, we were just fading away."

"The only thing that kept me alive..." Matt added as Chris turned the camera back to him. "Was the ice cream."

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms, her voice a soft mutter.

"And me."

Both brothers froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Oh my God." Chris shook his head, barely keeping the camera steady. "Did you hear that? She said 'and me'."

Matt grinned down at her, his heart melting at the sight of her sleepy pout.

"You’re not wrong, tho." He said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You do keep me alive."

Chris groaned jokingly, pretending to gag as he zoomed in on Matt’s face.

"Alright, let’s tone down the mushy stuff for the camera, you two. This is a vlog, you know?"

Matt rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. He tightened his grip on Y/N, letting her lean on him fully as her body relaxed even more against his. She was barely conscious at this point, her breaths slow and steady, but he didn’t mind. If anything, he was glad she felt comfortable enough to rest in his arms like this.

"Where’s Nick?" Chris asked after a moment, turning the camera to capture the Duomo behind them. "He’s been gone forever."

"He probably fell asleep somewhere." Matt joked, adjusting the jacket on Y/N’s shoulders.

They continued talking nonsense as the cold air swirled around them, Chris pointing out every biker that crossed their path, but Y/N didn’t stir again. She was too far gone, her exhaustion outweighing the chill of the night or the noise of the square. Matt kept her close, shielding her from the worst of the cold as they waited, his heart full despite the fatigue pulling at him.

When Nick finally returned, his steps hurried, and his face red from the chill, he found the trio exactly as he’d expected, glancing at Y/N with a small smile.

"Ready to go?" Nick asked after explanation about the guy who tried to make him buy roses for Laura.

"More than ready." Matt replied, his voice soft. He looked down at Y/N, brushing his fingers across her cheek to rouse her gently. "C’mon, sleepyhead. Time to get back to the hotel."

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, but her arms tightened around Matt’s waist as if to say she wasn’t ready to move. He laughed quietly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced at his brothers.

"Sweetheart, you have to wake up so we can go to our warm room and sleep in our bed, yeah?"

The camera was already trained on them as Matt talked Y/N out of her sleep softly.

"And this..." Chris said with a dramatic tone. "Is why Matt gets the boyfriend of the year award."

The screen cut off with the sound of their laughter echoing into the night, the cathedral standing tall behind them.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"... Goodnight Italy, goodnight moon, goodnight Prada-"

Nick, already giggling, interrupted with a laugh.

"Goodnight Prada is crazy." He said, shaking his head and pulling the covers up to his chin.

Chris, ignoring him, continued, his voice dripping with sleep as his words got a bit mixed up.

"Goodnight pasta, airport-"

Matt cut him off, too, straightening from his relaxed stance.

"Alright, I’m out. Say goodnight me, 'cause I’m leaving."

Chris stopped abruptly whatever he was trying to say, throwing an arm out from beneath the duvet as if reaching for him.

"No, no, no!" He protested, his voice filled with fake distress.

Nick rolled his eyes, his laughter subsiding into a fond grin.

"Let him go back to Y/N before she falls asleep in the shower or something." He teased, adjusting his pillow and settling more comfortably.

Chris groaned in defeat, sinking deeper into his blankets.

"Fine. But say goodnight to her." He said, pouting as Matt smirked and nodded.

"Will do." Matt replied, switching off the camera and leaving it at the marble oval table before slipping out the door. The hallway was quiet as Matt made his way to his room, his steps soft against the carpeted floor.

He pushed the door open softly, careful not to let it creak, stepping inside before closing it behind him, and was immediately greeted by the faint scent of Y/N’s lotion lingering in the air.

After walking through the short hallway that separated the entrance from the room itself, he paused in his tracks, the sight before him pulling a soft laugh from his lips.

Y/N was already tucked in bed, the duvet pulled up to her chin, leaving only her head peeking out. Her hair, still slightly damp from her shower, clung to her pillow in messy strands. Her eyes were closed, but her face twitched slightly, her brows furrowing at the sound of his laugh, as if she was caught between sleep and awake.

He shook his head fondly, leaning against the wall.

"You’re trying so hard, aren’t you?" He murmured quietly, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

The sound of his voice seemed to stir her. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing her sleepy gaze, eyes slightly red from the tiredness. It took her a moment to focus on him, and when she did, a small, drowsy smile curved her lips.

"Hi, baby." She murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "You’re back."

Matt chuckled softly, stepping closer to the bed.

"Yeah." He said, crouching by her side. His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Chris said goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chris." She mumbled, her words slurred and barely audible, and her eyes began to drift closed again.

Matt’s chest ached with affection at the sight of her so vulnerable.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart." He whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "I’ll be there in a second. Just need to change."

She hummed in response, barely acknowledging his words as she nestled further into the duvet, her breathing evening out.

Matt moved quickly, changing into a pair of sweatpants and a soft shirt, all the while keeping his movements quiet. When he finally slid into bed beside her, the warmth of her body immediately drew him in. She stirred slightly, instinctively shifting closer to him, her head finding its place on his chest as her arm draped over his waist.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her snugly against him and adjusting the duvet to create a cocoon of warmth around them both. His lips found the top of her head, and he kissed it softly, lingering for a moment.

"I love you." He whispered against her hair, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room, exhaling the comforting scent of fresh shampoo.

Y/N, her eyes still closed, raised her head slightly, her face tilting toward his. Her lips were pursed in a sleepy pout, and Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at how endearing she looked. He leaned down, meeting her lips in a lazy, intimate kiss. It was slow and messy, the sleep messing with their minds, but it was full of love.

Her head dropped back to his chest after pulling away, sighing softly.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Matt’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at her.

"For what?"

Her voice was soft and muffled against his shirt.

"For this. I’m only here because of you."

He shook his head, pressing another kiss to her hair.

"Even if Prada hadn’t invited us, I’d take you on a trip around all of Europe if you wanted to. Just say the word, baby."

Her lips curved into a small smile against his chest.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you more." He replied, his voice filled with certainty.

She hummed softly in response, her body relaxing completely against his as sleep overtook her. Matt stayed awake a little longer, his hand gently stroking her back as he watched her sleep, feeling like the luckiest man alive.

© vanteguccir

[gloomyluvr]

NEEDY

in which rafe just wants to nap

fem!reader x rafe cameron

fluff

warnings!: bit of sarah shade. cameron siblings getting along (iktr 🙂‍↕️), reader is from the cut and kind of a pogue idk,

a/n: hiii ! first rafe fic ever and first fic since 2023 (oops...) to my spiderverse readers i will write when they give us content and when the fandom is alive. hope this fic is good and people like it. it's not the best but i'm working on other fics so give me a chance please 😣. this ones pretty short. pls let me know if you enjoyed this or if there are any spelling errors. requests are open !

masterlist

summer in the outer banks was nothing short of fun. spending most days at the beach taking in the warm sun, relaxing and cooling down in the cold water, all while hanging out with the people you love most. but fuck, did it get so hot sometimes. unbearably hot. it wasn’t enough to cool down in the water, the intense sun on skin overpowering the coolness of the ocean. it was worse at the chateau, or anywhere on the cut. only a lucky few could afford the luxury of air conditioning. fortunately, you had a super awesome hot rich boyfriend with a mansion with air conditioning that ran 24/7. 

you laid in bed with the youngest cameron sibling, helping her with online shopping for the upcoming school year. having been with rafe for just a couple months, you had become close with his sisters. you saw sarah at the chateau with john b more than you had ever really seen her at tannyhill. therefore, when you spent time at the mansion, you typically spent time with wheezie when you got bored with rafe. 

“wait, that one’s cute,” you pointed to a crop top on wheezie’s laptop which rested on her knees.

“i think i already have that one though.” she looked around her room to see if the top was among the clothes on the floor before giving up and continued scrolling through the catalogue, “i feel like these clothes are too revealing.”

“cmon wheeze! this is nothing, you just gotta get out of your shell. it’s just clothes, try something new and i don’t know, maybe you’ll like it.” you tried convincing the younger girl. over the past few months you had become like an older sister to her, as sarah spent more time with john b and the other pogues.

“my dad would never let me buy these,” she turned her head to look at you. 

“just put it on rafe’s card,” you whispered, “i won’t tell.” you stuck your pinky out and wheezie quickly wrapped her pinky around yours, giggling. 

as wheezie finalized her cart a familiar voice began to call out for you, “babeee! babeee where are you!”

wheezie rolled her eyes, “speak of the devil,” she muttered. 

“summon him and he shall come,” you smiled at her which she returned, “i’m in wheezie’s room!” you called back. on queue, you heard obnoxiously loud stomps coming up the stairs. “he is so dramatic and for what?”

rafe stood in the doorway looking at you and his younger sister, “why’d you steal my girlfriend, wheeze?” 

 it was your turn to roll your eyes, “she didn’t steal me, dipshit. you were too busy ignoring me for topper and kelce and your stupid game so i came up here where i am truly loved.” you sighed, wrapping yourself around wheezie who stuck her tongue out at her older brother. in return, rafe picked up one of the shirts laying on the floor and chucked it at wheezie. 

“douchebag!” she yelled.

“cmon y/n, i wanna go take a nap.” 

“but i’m so comfy here!” you whined cuddling wheezie tighter. 

rafe walked over to your side and quickly got on the bed, spooning you and throwing one of his long legs over your body, reaching wheezie. rafe wasn’t an affectionate brother by any means, but when he was with you he definitely softened up with everyone around you guys. 

wheezie kicked her brother’s calf, “ew get your nasty dogs away from me!” but rafe didn’t budge.

“what’re you guys doing?” he mumbled looking at the laptop screen. 

“y/n’s helping me shop for school.” 

“why? you have enough clothes. you don’t need none of those crop tops. no boyfriends till you’re 30.” rafe stated as he viewed the clothes on the screen.

you gently smacked the leg that was on top of your own, “don’t be rude! wheezie’s not little anymore.”

 “hm, whatever.” he grumbled, nuzzling his face against your neck, eyes shut as he fully enveloped you leaving no space between your bodies. his hands found yours, wasting no time to intertwine your fingers. 

“get off me, fatty!” you feigned disgust, as if you weren’t enjoying every second of rafe’s neediness to cuddle.

rafe grumbled, “only if you come take a nap with me in my room.” 

“fineeee, get up then,” you reached behind to gently smack his butt and he quickly got up, no effort to hide his big smile, “sorry wheeze, duty calls.” you sighed, getting up following rafe as he walked to wheezie’s door.

before walking out he turned back to wheezie and stuck his tongue out as she had done earlier. with no hesitation, wheezie returned the gesture as you smacked rafe’s head and shoved him out the door. 

[c0ffeejelly1]

I know where the hole is!..I think.

-Bros the type to let you take control during his first time

Cw: smut smut smut um smut (virgins, like both of y’all soo) fem dom, thats all. (ALL CHARACTERS ARE TIMESKIPPED VERSIONS 🙏🙏 so basically of age.)

* “A-are you sure about this, babe?..”

* He felt like his heart was sinking to the deepest depths of his stomach with each passing moment.

* Is this a heart attack? Is this how it feels? Is he having one right now??!

* He was panicking. How the hell did he get himself into this position??

* “I mean, I don’t want to force you to do anything you might not like..”

* Who was he kidding? He knew damn well you wanted this! But he’d just never...

* “..we could always just..reschedule?”

* Reschedule? Seriously?

* Who the hell says, 'reschedule’ in this type of situation???

* What had he gotten himself into...

* He could practically feel his brain going into overdrive, the stupid word ‘error’ repeating in his mind.

* Why was his heart trying to wrestle its way out of his body?? Did it want him to die?!

* Is this organ failure? He doesn’t want to die!!..

* And the drips—no gallons of cold sweat running down his face like a marathon...

* Is this normal?!? Sweating this much??

* Could you see this? Was his face clammy looking??

* God, he hoped you were blind to his nervousness...

* This was such a stupid idea.

* And all because of his big ass, egotistical, lying, good-for-nothing mouth.

* If only he’d just said the truth to you...

* The truth that he’d never done something like..this.

* Something so intimate..something so deep..something like having-

* “Are you nervous?..”

* His eyes immediately open wide.

* Why were his eyes even closed to begin with?!

* This was so embarrassing..he could feel the blush on his cheeks rise even more as he avoided eye contact with you.

* “M-me?! Noo…not I’m nervous! I-I mean-..nervous I’m not! Ha..so let’s just um..”

* He gulped loudly.

* Are gulps supposed to hurt your throat?

* He’d have to look that up later...

* ..but back to the problem at hand!

* You were getting suspicious, which wasn’t good!

* And his arms remained laying either side of your head—not because he was experienced and knew what he was doing. No.

* only because he needed something to stop himself from collapsing down onto you like a nervous wreck.

* He was shitting himself.

* How was he supposed to do something like this to someone as gorgeous as you?

* And to think you were willing on your back presenting yourself to him in just your underwear...

* The way your bra would cup the two fruitful breasts he had no shame burying his face in, hiding the sinful buds he’d never seen in his life—actually, there was the one time he caught you in the shower, so maybe this wasn’t going to be his first time seeing you so- fuck. He’s getting distracted...

* But then there were your undies that shielded away your most vulnerable parts..and to think, you were giving that to him?.. Him????

* He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, y’know?

* You should know by now that he’s all talk, no action! He can’t touch you!

* The thing is..he’s never actually had sex! Okay?! He admits it!

* It was a lie!

* But you were just talking about how you want your first time to be amazing. He just-…

* He just didn’t want to seem lame to you! I mean, look at you!

* You were so beautiful..and he was just..there?

* And to think you wanted him to- to-..put his D in your P?? He’d probably finish on the spot!

* Just imagine how embarrassing that’d be...

* “Baby..”

* His head perks up at the pet name, his eyes meeting yours.

* “You’ve..never done this before, have you.”

* Fuck.

* Well

* It was good while it lasted, boys.

* He tried his best.

* Now he can finally crawl into a hole and die.

* He can’t lie to you when you look like this! You're practically naked, for Christ's sake! And he was in his boxers and- shit.

* Had a raging hard boner...

* He didn’t know a thing when it came to making women feel good...

* He’d watched sex videos before. Yes, he wasn’t a prude, but still.

* Did he know where exactly the hole was?

* …

* No.

* So how was he supposed to-

* “Lay on your back.”

* “..What.”

* “I said lay on your back.”

* “But then how am I gonna..“

* “I’ll do it.”

* “..y-you’ll wha-“

* How did he get himself into this mess?

* How did the only piece of clothing covering his most precious area end up on the floor?

* How did he find himself covering his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to stop the sinful sounds from escaping his lips..

* How did your mouth feel so good?

* “Ah..f-fuck baby..slow down a little..”

* His chest only moved up and down frantically, his breathing becoming heavier as his hand found a place in your hair. He was falling apart and was so close already...

* The way your tongue would flick at his tip, teasing it as you looked at him for a reaction.

* The way you would suddenly take him whole, causing his back to arch slightly and his head to fall back into the pillow behind him, a stuttery whine leaving his mouth.

* And then there were your hands..the way they would wrap around his cock so nicely, quick strokes being made, and the occasional massage of his balls.

* Fuck it was 'so good..’ as he would say it.

* you sure you were a virgin?

* This doesn’t seem like virgin behaviour to him...

* He was so deep in thought, so dazed that the only thing he could think of was coming undone.

* He felt good..way too good, so good that-

* “Baby!- w-wait..mhf!..ah-..I’m gonna cum..”

* “Y-Your mouth-..fuck..so good..sogoodd..”

* Then you stopped.

* ..why did you stop?

* Did he do something wrong? Why did you just...

* He felt his thoughts come to a halt as he watched you pull off your undies, his eyes wandering down to your..oh wow. You really were going to do this.

* You gently place a hand on his chest, using your other to grip his cock, causing him to suck in a breath at the sudden contact.

* He was sensitive and on the verge of finishing just from a slight touch..it was adorable.

* Your hips ride up above his pelvis just right enough for the lips of your pussy to wet his cock with your juices.

* Were you trying to kill him here?

* All he could do was watch and whine softly as he hoisted himself up with his elbows.

* He wanted to be inside you.

* Wanted you to take him

* Be his first, just as he was about to be yours.

* He needed it badly, and so you gave it to him.

* Sweaty, hot, messily.

* You were so beautiful...

* The way you held your tits from bouncing up and down while riding him, a hand still placed on his chest as your head slightly tilted back from the pleasure you were receiving.

* He was making you feel this good..him.

* He felt so embarrassed with the sounds that were falling from his lips—the whimpers, whines, and moans of your name—all just for you.

*Fuck he loved you.

* He was so in love...

* He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He could feel the coil in his stomach begin to tighten as his cock twitched inside of you.

*He was gonna cum

* And you knew that.

* You both did

* “Y-you’re so..t-tight..fuck.”

* “How do you f-feel this good?”

* “So beautiful..h-how did I ever deserve you?..”

* “Fuck d-dont clench around me like that baby..”

* “I wanna cum for you baby..please..”

* “I’m so glad you were my first time..”

* “D-don’t..say things like that..it’s so dirty..”

* “I-i can’t baby..i-I’m gonna-“

* A wonderful first time for both of you, if you ask me.

Characters I had in mind while writing this

REIGEN (mob psycho 100)

All might, present mic, DENKI, sero (my hero academia)

Hinata, NISHINOYA, KAGEYAMA, yamiguchi, bokuto (haikyuu)

ITTO (genshin impact)

POLNAREFF, mista (JOJO’S bizarre adventures)

Kagami, MIDORIMA (kuroko’s basketball)

Sanemi, HAGANEZUKA (demon slayer)

METAL BAT, king (one punch man)

GOJO (jujustu kaisen)

JEAN, Connie (attack on titan)

LEORIO, kite (hunterxhunter)

ONIZUKA (Great teacher onizuka)

Any character you would like

[brucedefender4eva]

<1>. <2>. <3>.

——

Dick: Have you ever doubted that I love you?

Bruce: …

——

It wasn’t a fight. At least it didn’t really feel like all those usual fights, and Bruce was pretty sure it wasn’t a fight. But then again, he’s always been wrong in guessing about his children.

Dick seems… distant. Distant but still close. Usually when Dick wants to be distant, he leaves. His children are very good at leaving and not telling him where they are. He always knows, though, he’s Batman.

Bruce doesn’t remember any scathing words being exchanged between them. No heated glares, heavy air, stilted conversations. Nothing that usually promises an argument is to come or has passed without Bruce realizing it.

But for some reason, Dick was still lingering around the hallways. If Bruce turned around, he would see his eldest child standing around the edges, his body tense, and a perturbed expression on his face. Just watching him, waiting for a moment that Bruce was honestly scared to come.

It was starting to worry Bruce. His baby has always been a bright and shining star, even when he doesn’t want to be.

But Bruce also knew that if he tried to pry, he would only push Dick away. After many years of trail and errors, Bruce decided the best course of action would be to let Dick figure it out himself or come to Bruce on his own.

Strangely enough, it didn’t take very long for Dick to come into his study, his face trying and failing to adopt a calm and nonchalant expression as he sat in the edge of his desk.

“Hey B…” Dick said lowly, fiddling with one of the snow globes he had on his desk. Bruce had gotten that specific one from Dick when they first visited Zitka at the zoo when he was nine and Dick had begged to get something from the gift shop.

“Dick.” Bruce nodded, setting down his pen and giving his son his full attention.

Dick let out a shuddering sigh and set down the snow globe. Bruce’s hands twitched with the urge to fix it and set it straight, but then Dick turned the globe and moved it to the exact position that he liked.

Bruce couldn’t help the small twitch of his lips. He was probably being too obvious, Dick most likely remembers the several panic attacks he had when Dick was a child, unable to process and handle when his prized possessions were askew. He worked on it. He's fine now.

“I heard something pretty interesting… from Jay.” Dick started haltingly, his eyes staring deeply into Bruce’s. “You guys had a pretty… deep convo recently… right?”

Bruce felt stupid. A deep conversation? He’s assuming that Dick means an emotionally charged conversation but he truly doesn’t remember anything like that happening recently.

“Okay, okay, I can see you racking your brain, so I’ll just tell you,” Dick said, grabbing his Dad’s hands and holding them in his own. Bruce hadn’t even noticed when he started digging his fingernails into the flesh of his arm, close to drawing blood.

Shit. He always fucking does this. Making Dick worry and take care of him like he was an invalid incompetent manchild.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.” Dick murmured causing Bruce to purse his lips together silently. “Seriously, it’s okay B. I know why you are the way you are. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Bruce nodded silently because it was easier to do so than argue why he should’ve already grown out of his childish habits. You’d think having the media point out his self inflected scars when he was 12 would’ve kicked him out of the habit already…

“What was it that you wanted to talk to me about? I don’t remember any particularly deep conversation with Jason.” Bruce rumbled, tilting his head to the side when Dick’s nose scrunched in annoyance.

“Of course you don’t, just like Jay said…” Dick huffed under his breath. “Okay, let’s just… blurt it out. Get it over with.”

Dick seemed to try and hype himself up, squeezing Bruce’s hands tightly before releasing and continuing the action a few more times.

“Jason said that you think that we hate you, but like, I really don’t know where that came from, and I’m just super confused because I don’t think I’ve said it that often, and yeah I’ve said it, I probably shouldn’t have, really shouldn’t have since you think that I hate you, well you think that all of us-“

“Chum.” Bruce stopped his son’s rapid word vomit with one word, his eyes crinkled with fondness and amusement as he squeezed Dick’s hands back. “Sweetheart, I didn’t understand a single word you just said. Slow down for me, okay?”

Dick took large gulps of air, his face burning with embarrassment as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Right! Right duh, I just- ugh…”

Bruce absentmindedly trailed his eyes over Dick’s face, so much older than when he had last seen him. Maybe a little gaunt… he’ll make Dick some brownies, the ones he used to make when Dick was smaller. Maybe they could watch a movie later, anything that would get DIck to fall asleep.

“Dad…” Dick breathed softy, making Bruce’s heart race. Uh oh, why was this a Dad moment? Did Dick want something?

“Jason came to me and he told me that… you think that I… we hate you. Do you?”

Bruce let out a confused hum. Was that the important conversation he had? Bruce didn’t feel like it was an important conversation; it had been mostly resolved by the time Jason decided to leave. Well, Bruce felt as though it had been resolved.

“… you said it,” Bruce said slowly. The last time he said that, Jason had gone silent and stared at Bruce with a horrified expression before hugging him. It was a nice hug, so Bruce guessed he had read his second son’s expression wrong, and it was all okay in the end.

“No, B, I could… I could never…” Dick’s throat dried up. Why couldn’t he just force the full sentence out? 'No, I don't hate you.' Why does his tongue feel like it's a million pounds? Why do his lips refuse to move?

Bruce hummed sympathetically and nodded his head, like he understood, like he could sort through the mess in Dick’s mind. Bruce had always had an uncanny way of peering into all of their minds when it was the most jumbled, and yet, he was getting it completely wrong this time.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. It makes perfect sense.” Bruce nodded, having the fucking audacity to pretend that it did make sense. Like Dick hating him was perfectly normal, like living in a house and caring for people who he thinks hate him is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Wha-? No, Bruce, it’s not supposed to make sense!” Dick ran a hand through his hair, carelessly ripping through the knots and tangles, barely feeling the pain radiating from his scalp. The one in his chest hurt a fuckton more.

Bruce chewed on his lower lip, unable to dig his fingernails into the palm of his hand, he settled for digging the heel of his foot against the dorsum of his other, still bruised painfully from a rough night of crime fighting alone.

“What did I do wrong this time?” Bruce asked, wanting to know why Dick was here and why he seemed so… distraught. Not even angry, which was somehow worse.

He had to have done something wrong, after all, both DIck and Jason had come to him separately to rehash this same old conversation. Something must have happened.

That, for some reason, seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

“Dad, you know we love you… right…?” Dick whispered quietly. “You know that I love you, right?” Dick tried to grin, hoping that he would see his father’s face transform into a smile, to hear his deep chuckle of amusement, to listen to his Dad say ‘yes, of course I know that you love me, that you all love me.’

But it never came.

Bruce was quiet. No he was completely silent, staring at his son with a truly baffled expression that Dick has only seen very few times in his life. Like the words coming out of his son’s mouth were such an obvious lie, and he was trying to figure out why he was lying right to his face. Like Dick's love was such an unreachable object for him that there was no way he could already have it.

No no no no no no-

“Dad-!” Dick choked on a sudden sob, forcefully tearing its way out of his throat without his permission. “Please! Tati please! You have to know that I love you!”

Bruce swallowed and slowly extracted his hands from Dick’s grip, well, he tried to. Dick held on tight, steadfastly refusing to let go. “Dick, sweetheart, let me get you a cup of water. I don’t know why you’re crying, but I promise we can figure it out together. I’ll be right back, I swear.” Bruce said, his voice giving away how stressed he was in this situation.

Dick desperately clawed at his Dad’s hands, trying to stop him from leaving, but somehow Bruce escaped his hold. He always escapes his grasp.

As Bruce quickly fled the room, Dick slid down off Bruce’s desk and onto the floor, curling up into hisself. Trying to hide away from the shame and horror that was threatening to explode from his body.

How could this have happened? When had he stopped telling his Dad that he loved him? When had Bruce stopped believing him?

Dick tugged harshly on his hair and wailed, waiting for Bruce to come back.

[draxula]

oh, how i'd kill... | b. barnes

'...To see you again."

pairing: bucky barnes x blackwidow!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: mentions of torture and distress. canon typical violence. possible timeline errors with ca:tws. possible thunderbolts* spoiler at end if you haven’t seen it yet.

summary: a stolen widow tasked with accompanying the soldier, the two of you were together more than not. soft memories of a softer widow haunt his dreams. would he ever see you again?

author’s note: past memories in italics. another one thank u.

There were things that haunted him.

Anyone in his position would be followed down by their wrong doings. His actions and choices, even if not his own, would chase him to the ends of the Earth, not relenting until they had him by the throat. Or until the end of time. Till he took his very last breath.

One simply didn’t forget all the atrocities one committed - not in this lifetime and maybe not even in the next. At least not the extent of the ones he was guilty of. Blood soaked his hands. Even years after the mantle of the Winter Soldier had been striped, he felt he could never quite clean himself of it.

He could scrub and scrub until his hand went raw and his skin broke open. He would pick and clean between the plating of his replacement arm, searching for blood that once got caught between the divots. The action is rough and violent, the sturdy material of the plates being the only thing stopping him from ripping it to pieces.

He could never get clean enough. 

In the after hours of their latest mission, he can only find himself feeling disgusted.His metal digits flex once and then twice as if checking to see if it is still real. It feels heavy on the left side of his body, weighing him down both figuratively and literally.

Somewhere from down the hall, Walker calls for him. “Come on, man. We gotta debrief and I want to go to bed. You’re keeping us all up.”

-

“You’re going to break something if you keep doing it that way.” There’s a voice from his left. It continues to talk at him as it sits besides him. “And if you do, we’re both going to be in trouble.”

He pauses in the middle of what he had been doing, removing the knife from in between the platings of his arm. The weapon remains tightly locked between his fingers for a moment or two longer than it should before lowering it. Not a threat. At least not one to him.

And he can at least recognize that you are not one in some regards.

With an outstretched hand, you wait as patiently as you can for him to place his in your own. After a moment of staring, he relents, gently resting his left wrist in the palm of your hand. He’s mindful of the pressure and of the weight behind it. The metal limb was more than enough to throw his own center of gravity off. It would be more than enough to cause some discomfort to your hand, even with him simply resting on you.

“You should be more careful.” Your voice is heavy in his ear. Your accent doesn’t quite fit your face - almost as if even that has been indoctrinated into you as well. 

He’s not particularly listening to you. Even if he was, he does a decent enough job of looking uninterested. 

Careful wasn’t a word in his dictionary. He could be discreet. He could be stealthy. But he couldn’t afraid to be careful at times. As long as the job got done, it didn’t really matter how it came to be. A few bumps and bruises were going to little to deter him - besides he has been through far worse over his lifetime.

You fish through your pockets, bringing up a rag to begin wiping at the metal, carefully running the fabric between the grooves in his arm. The smell is a rotten one, a mixture of both dried blood and oil to keep his arm lubed. You try your best not to let your upper lip curl up in disgust, choking back a cough as you do so.

“Does that mask of yours have scent blockers?”

“No.”

That causes you to lift your gaze up, watching him with careful intent. It wasn’t like him to have a conversation with you - let alone acknowledge anything you had said. There were far and few time in between the two of you even shared words. It was always short and two the point. For some reason, one this day, he has chosen to humor your rather useless question.

“I know that they wouldn’t.” You say, continuing your work. “I don’t think they would spend that kind of money on you or me.”

The Winter Soldier isn’t sure what you expect from him. Do you want him to laugh and chuckle at your joke or just brush it off like you had said nothing to him. Not that he even thought himself capable of those emotions anymore. So instead, he opts to sit in silence, watching as you tend to your work.

The movements of your hands are uncharacteristically gentle for someone like you. He has seen those very hands break bones without much effort. He has seen them choke the life out of several people without much of a second thought. He has witness them drip with blood, only to be wiped clean as if nothing happened in the first place. 

The duality of your touch is not lost on him.

“There - all better.” You have cleaned him as well as you feel like you can. The cloth in your hand is practically drenched in both fresh and dried blood. There’s still a small crinkle to your nose, looking slightly disgusted by it, but you don’t have much else to say on the matter. 

None of this was his fault.

-

Yelena only brings back those bitter memories.

Her suit is different. Not the same stark black that he can vaguely make out in his more pleasant dreams. More of a merc than a true widow, there are still some differences and similarities. 

In those first few days of working together, he tried not to stare too much or too hard. Not that he really cared if anyone caught him. It would be far too easy to brush it off as him just being his usual grumpy self.

There are brief thoughts of if she knew you oe nor. Thought of if he brought you up, would she be able to confidently say she had any recollection of you. Then again you were a war prize for H.Y.D.R.A. Taken from a mission gone sour, you never returned to the Red Room. Their trackers were replaced with new ones. You were as effectively hidden as you could be.

Then there was the fact he could never bring himself to ask. Widows didn’t exactly live the most pleasant of lives. At least, he knew yours hadn’t been so the same had to go for everyone else.

Underneath it all are also the fears that you might not be alive after all. After that last mission had go horribly wrong, after his defection, he could only imagine that had not been kind to you. You would have been severely punished for your failure.

He knew what his own captors were capable of. He had vivid flashbacks to being held down, force to withstand torture. Forced to have his memory manipulated and replaced. 

It kept him up late into the night that he never went looking for you. Now when he thought back on it, he knew he should have. The one person who showed him the smallest shred of kindness in those dark times had been so easily forgotten and tossed to the side. 

He didn’t particularly enjoy lingering on those thoughts.

-

“Bucky.” His voice comes from somewhere to your side. 

Your head whips to face him, brows pinching down together in thought. “What?”

There’s a brief look of confusion, his eyes going misty as they flicker around. It’s clear he’s searching for something. Maybe not something tangible but something looked far away in the back of his mind. The look disappears just as quickly as it had appeared, shaking his head from side to side as if to rid himself of the thought.

You chew quietly on the inside of your cheek, trying to piece together the meaning behind his sudden outburst. Bucky was a name - that much you knew. A rather unique one you could say you had never heard before.

“Is that someone you know?”

The Winter Soldier doesn’t response, frozen in place. His attention is back forwards, watching the highway with his usual intensity. There’s a subtle twitch of his brows downward, unconsciously reacting to your questioning.

“Is that your name?” Is your next question.

Despite what little information you did have on him, you knew no one would be named Winter or Soldier. It was almost tacky to put those two together. As cruel as life had been to you, you expected no one in their right mind would name their child that. Or maybe they would. H.Y.D.R.A. hadn’t been setting high standards for your perception of others.

This time his head turns to face you again. There’s a look of recognition that crosses his face. Even with his mask on, you can tell his expression as shifted underneath it, looking at you expectantly.

“That’s your name.” You say it a bit more firmly this time.

His brows jump up in what can only be described as surprise. The recognition turns into something more. Familiarity is what you eventually settle on. The confirmation seems to do something for him. As if he has been doubting why that name has been stuck in his head for so long. Ever since his run in with the Captain.

“Bucky.” You say, trying the name out for yourself. As odd as it feels on your tongue, it sounds so much better than the other thins you have been stuck with calling him. It feels softer. Gentler. Not all that befitting of the man armed to the teeth beside you.

“You know I’ve never really liked calling you Soldier.” You say, shifting a bit so you’re lying a little more comfortable on your stomach.

He doesn’t make any signs that he’s acknowledge your comment. He merely shifts himself around as well, adjusting the butt of the rifle on his shoulders. He does take the smallest of moments to look at you out from the corner of his eye. You aren’t paying him attention anymore either, merely focusing your gaze through your binoculars. There’s a soft upturn to your smile. It’s a soft expression that fits so naturally on your face. 

“Bucky suits you.”

-

“Bucky.”

It takes him a moment before he’ll lift his head up from what he was reading. Mission reports of their last outing. Going over things helped keep his mind clear and his hands busy. “Yelena.”

“You’re going to owe me the favor of a lifetime.”

He feels his brows pinch together, unsure of what exactly she means by that. He couldn’t quite think of anything she could do that result in him owing her such a massive favor. If anything, it was more like she owed him one. 

Was it not him that drug her out from the last situation she was in? If it wasn’t for him, she would have been stuck crushed under fallen rubble, left to die from the pressure of it on her lungs.

“I’m not sure what there is I could owe you for.” He mutters, turning his attention back to the tablet in hand.

Not that he really wanted to owe anyone anything. It wasn’t a feeling he particularly enjoyed. He had spent the majority of his life having to answer to the whims of another. The Void had brought back those thoughts in full force (as much as he denied having any trauma rooms to wade through.) 

“You’ll see.”

-

“You’ll see.”

The Soldier lifts his head up, gaze flickering from the knife in his hand. He’s been quietly whittling away at a stick in his other, biding his time as the two of you wait. It’s always a grueling process. If the task had been given to anyone else, they might have split and left long ago.

The two of you had unfortunately been trained for things like this. Molded and formed into the definition of weapons. Patience wasn’t lost on neither you or him. Long days and nights could be spent hiding in the shadows and neither of you would have it in you to complain. Not that you had much of a choice. Biding your time was the better option, forced into keeping your opinions and thoughts to yourself.

He doesn’t make a move to acknowledge whatever it is you’re getting on about. For a widow, you were more talkative than he would have first imagined one to be. Whatever self thinking you have has yet to be beaten out of you. No matter how many times they tied you down, broke your fingers or ripped nails from their fleshy beds, you remind just as uncharacteristically vibrant as ever.

Compared to you, his own will felt weak at times. Like a caged dog beaten back into its corner, he found it baffling that you could stay so optimistic given your situation. Maybe you felt you couldn’t afford to completely bend the knee to the powers that be. They couldn’t strip you of everything you were worth. That would be giving them too much power over you.

Your gaze eventually meets his, giving him the softest of smiles. Your nose is a little more crooked then what he remembers. There’s signs of a healing bruises across the bridge of it, a scar following a jagged pattern across your flesh. Despite it, you still manage to give him the softest of looks, wincing ever so slightly as your skin stretches and pulls against itself.

The fingers on your one hand look a little more twisted as well. Two are bandaged tightly together in a makeshift splint, attempting to keep whatever inflammation there is down. Unsurprisingly, your dominant hand remains relatively untouched, mindful of the face it would be needed in order to complete the job placed at your feet.

“You sure do stare a lot.”

He quickly looks away, now staring down at his feet.

He does find himself curious to what it is your getting at. Though he doesn’t vocalize that in the slightest. A man of few words ever since the day the two of you had been paired together. You were less of a handler and more of a companion. Less of a companion and more of a failsafe if things ever got too out of hand. Someone to put the rapid dog down if he ever managed to tug too hard at his leash.

You recognize the look on his face to be wonder. There’s something almost childlike about him. A genuine curiosity for the world around him and specifically you.

“I just have this gut feeling is all.” You say. There wasn’t any need for you to explain it anymore. Not that you felt he was going to press you for any more.

Things did seem to be taking a rather interesting turn for him. 

That Captain America seemed to have woken up something long since dormant in the Soldier and that felt like nothing short of a step in the right direction for him. There were brief flashes of the man you liked to imagine he was before all of this. Before the wrong people got their hands on him. 

And if that meant you had to suffer in his place, you would opt for that. What did you have waiting out there for you?

-

“Bucky.” His name comes out so sweetly. It sounds like honey dripping.

He can feel his muscles tense up beneath his shirt, his legs freezing midstep. That voice. It would whisper to him softly in the middle of the night, between all the nightmares and horrid thought. A soft reminder that there had been some sort of light in all that darkness. Whatever that meant for someone like him

At first, he can’t bring himself to turn around. He’s sure he has to be imaging things. His head would do that too him every so often. It would bring up less than fond thoughts in the middle of the day, reminding him of things at the lowest point of his life. As much as he continued to heal and improve, there were still some things he couldn’t quite shake.

He felt it was just his imagination playing tricks on him again.

He’s put it off for as long as he can. After a baited breath, he finally manages to bring himself to turn on his heels. His gaze remains down at the floor for a moment before finally lifting up. And when he does? He feels as if his breath has been sucked right out of his lungs.

There you are, smiling at him.

It’s that same damn smile you flashed him time and time again. It looks gentler than it ever has before. You look as if you have finally found some sort of peace in your own life. Your shoulders don’t look nearly as heavy and your posture isn’t as tense as he remembers.

The widow jumpsuit is now replaced with every day clothing. You look comfortable. Relaxed even. It’s a look he can confidently say is deserving. Peace looked good on you.

The emotions he feels deep within his gut isn’t something he can find a word for at first. He eventually settles on relief. You are alive and well. No broken bones. No visible bruises. No major limbs are missing. You look to be in one piece. His gaze does eventually find the small scar across the bridge of your nose, crinkling his own up in a small subconscious response.

“Hey.”

It’s so stupid that a simple ‘hey’ is all he can bring himself to say. He wants to say how he’s happy to see you. That he’s thought about you almost every day since the last time he saw you. A widow that was far too soft and kind to him and for her own good. A widow who got herself in trouble for not keeping him on a tighter leash.

And then? You laugh at him. You laugh at him. It leaves him even more speechless than before. “That’s all you have to say to me?”

It’s around now that Bucky realizes the two of you have been surprisingly left alone. Yelena has opted to give the two of you some privacy. She has successfully manage to corral everyone else out of the room.

These sort of reunions were better to be done without the prying eyes of others. Especially the likes of John and Alexei. As much as she wanted to see how this all plated out, she could also recognize the importance of it. Later, she would give him hell for how his jaw partially dropped open at the sight of you. The way his shoulders visibly relaced. The soft breath of relief that left him at the time was laughable.

“You look…Good.”

You laugh even harder at him this time. The sound is enough to shake your body. “You’ve never been good at talking.”

He knew that was nothing short of the truth. In what memories he held of you, he had never done much of the talking. The mask prevented him for it at times. The muffled sounds he made didn’t make for much conversation and you opted to fill the silence with your own voice in his stead. Now that he has the free will to say whatever it is that he wants, he can’t quite find the words he’s searching for.

“You look good too, Bucky. You look healthy. Happy.” You say it with such sincerity. Like you are truly glad to see that he is in one piece and in as much peace as he could possibly be.

He takes a small step towards you and then takes one more. It’s a timid action. The movements are almost scarily unlike him in the way he approaches you. He treats it as if you are some fragile animal backed into a corner. Like you might tuck tail and run from him whenever the chance is presented to you.

Not that you had ever truly flinched away from him.

There had been a time or two where he lashed out at you, metal hand reaching for whatever clothing or hand it could get ahold of. There were far and few times you ever believed he would truly hurt you. Even in those moments as he held you down, as you fought back against him with every ounce of strength, you knew it wasn’t him talking. The Winter Soldier would win on some days.

Now you knew that you had little to fear from him. 

In what communication you had with Yelena, Bucky was as well rounded of a person as he could be. Even with all his trauma and his pain, he was functioning as best as he possibly could. Not that the standards were set very high. What sort of standard could be held for a former assassin.

“Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that.”

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He realizes he has been staring at you a little too long. But who could blame him? For all intents and purposes, it was easier for him to believe that he was just seeing things. That his mind was simply making up that you were truly standing in front of him.

He would never admit it to the others but those rooms in the Void, one of them held vivid memories of you. Your gentle smile suddenly turning sour. They way your eyes went wide as you forced yourself between him and your handlers. It was your fault, you would plead. There was no reason for him to take the blame - not this time.

In those days, it didn’t matter who’s shoulder the blame fell on as long as someone answered to it. 

That day, played over and over again by the Void, it had been you. You were snatched up under the arms, legs limp beneath you as you were dragged only but a few feet away from him. This would be a reminder. The first hit against you landed in the dead center of your face. It had been loud, the sound of cartilage snapping rang in his ears even days later. Despite the way blood ran down your face, you would nor waver or budge. You would take hit after hit without complaint.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am too.” You say back to him.

He can’t find what ever reason you would have to be apologizing to him. He should be the one begging for forgiveness. He didn’t go looking for you. Not that he was sure where to even begin looking for you. The one person that held some other type of control over him, other than his captors, was you. You would have been tucked somewhere far faraway from him. Had he gone looking, what would they have done. 

Perhaps you wouldn’t be standing in front of him.

“Yelena tells me you’re an Avenger now.” You say, this time taking a step towards him. “That’s a big promotion.”

He gives you a nervous smile. His best attempt at one anyway. “Someone has to do it.”

“And that job falls to you?”

“I’ve had worse.”

You let out another chuckle. “It’s definitely a step up. The pay has got to be better too.”

Bucky thinks to himself for a moment or two, tapping his food against the ground in quite contemplation. It’s an anxious action, trying to self soothe as he debates his choices. Yelena couldn’t have brought you all this way for nothing. Hell, he wasn’t even sure where you called home. There was not telling how far you had traveled just for him to stammer over his words.

“Are you hungry?” He asks. It’s a clumsy question. After the words leave his lips, he feels as if he has just asked something rhetorical.

“I could eat.”

“Want to go get dinner?”

“With you?”

“Yeah…Yeah, with me.”

You smile once more, your head lazily tilting to the side. The expression you wear is almost unsettling. That look shouldn’t be reserved for someone like him. Not for someone who has committed the crimes that he has. Not for someone that once pulled your hair and busted your lip out of an anger that was not his own. How could you afford to continue being so soft with him. 

“Yeah, I would love to.” You hold a hand out to him. “It would be nice to get to know this Bucky.”

And he, despite it all, despite all his failures and feelings, places his hand in your own.

[invincibledc]

MORE JACK X BATBRO PLEASEEEE AAAA

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻’𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑴𝒀 𝑵𝑨𝑴𝑬.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

── .✦ Synopsis: when calling/texting the wrong name, he seems to act cool about it, but he isn’t.

── .✦ Genre: drabble(?)/oneshot/yanderish

── .✦ Info: this OC is an OC I’m written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. I got bored. Reader is the twin brother of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Reader and Jack are in their mid teens, 15-17. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome.

── .✦ Word count: 1,313

TEXTING.

Making the worst mistake of your life was addressing Jack by the wrong name in a text. You know how unpredictable he can be, and that unpredictability can tip into craziness.

It was just a typical day; you were exhausted after school. Your butler picked you and your twin brother, Damian, up, and you rested your head on your hand with a long yawn. Damian stared out the window, clearly bored, while you checked your phone to see Jack blowing up your messages.

“Hey babe,” “What you doin'??”—his texts flashed on the screen, and you let out a sigh of annoyance before responding.

“Hey Jake,” you typed back, oblivious to the glaring error you’d just made. It was a simple slip, but it would send Jack spiraling into overthinking as he stared at his blue and red phone case with those striking dark blue eyes and a crooked smile.

“Seriously? It’s just a harmless mistake. He knows my name is Jack, not Jake,” he chuckled to himself, but a certain scheme began brewing in the back of his mind.

Jack turned off his phone, jaw clenched, and stormed upstairs to his condo. He went straight to his room, rummaging under his bed until he found his computer. With a devious grin, he powered it on and started searching for everyone named “Jake”—everyone but him from your school.

♦︎

Time has passed, you were in your bed with your pajamas. Snoring peacefully, that was until you felt a huge hand grab onto your mouth. Your eyes snap wide, you see a figure with a hand that's slightly tanned, dark, and glistening blue eyes.

You slide your hand slickly under your pillow and pull out a curved dagger. Now your eyes are dark as you pull the arm from you, swiftly raising the arm that held the dagger.

The figure moves back as you stabbed where they were supposedly at. You leaped up, eyes dark and now written with killer instinct as you cursed in Arabic. You gave the intruder a swift kick to the head, they quickly and luckily blocked it with their arm.

Thinking it was over, they tried to stop you only for you to almost stab their side when they were focused on your leg.

The figure then also, grabbed your arm and pinned you down to the floor. Ready to scream, the intruder kisses you.

Eyes widen, and you try to push back when you smell that significant cologne of a certain male that's your boyfriend.

Jack hums into the kiss as he lets you go, but does not let go of your lips interlocking with his. He backs from you, breathing a bit heavy as he stares at your face, the moonlight reflecting off of your handsome features.

“Hello puddin’,” he says lowly, mostly talking low so as to not alert anyone. “I have a question.” you glared at the blonde-haired boy as now his hoarse voice irritated you due to the break-in. “I got a better question. Why the hell are you in my room, and why did you sneak me In my sleep.” Jack moves from you, staring at you with oddly emotionless eyes.

“You answer my question first Y/N,” he says dangerously low. It made a shiver run through your back and arms.

You can now smell something else than his cologne. Its blood.

It's blood you smell.

Your eyes widen as you turn on the light to see the crazed boy covered in blood, mostly fresh and dried due to some on his denim jeans and cheek.

Not his blood.

“Jack.. What did you do?” Jack stood up tall, towering over you as you moved back, eyes widening as he gave you a crazed grin.

“Who’s Jake? Answer correctly.” you raised a brow as you fell onto your bed when trying to move from your crazy boyfriend.

“Jake? Who the hell is Jake??” you harshly said low to not wake up anyone. Jack pulled his phone out and tossed it towards you who effortlessly caught it. “Read,” he demands with his raspy voice.

You gave him a stank face before reading the text message you sent him. Scrunching your face up, you soon realized what this was about. You looked up from the phone to see cold blue eyes, he had a smile that didn't reach his eyes as his head was tilted. Ready to blow up.

Sighing, you handed him his phone to which he just tossed it to the ground.

“Answer,” he says again, his patient is running low. And yours is too as you grabbed his hair, pulling him close to your face. He doesn't even bother to even acknowledge the pain of the grip you have on him.

“Listen to me. It was a clear misspell okay? Possibly an autocorrect, I've been tired of school. And now, I'm tired of you.” you said sternly.

You watch Jack’s cold eyes shift to warmness as he smiles to his eyes.

“Oh, is that so?” he says as he pulls from your grip, taking your hand from his hair as he kisses the hand that can just kill him.

“I see... So maybe killing all those guys was worthless,” he says with a purr, kissing your head. Your eyes widen at what he said, watching as he opened your window and leaped out.

“Bye sweetheart!” you rushed over to see him run off Scott free while you yelled for him.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY!!!??”

CALLING.

Calling him out of his name, anything than; Jack, Jacklyn, Jackie, Beloved, Idiot, Crazed bastard. Anything than that, and he’s all over you, like a damn dog that smells fear off of you.

You simply called him—on accident of course, a random boy’s name that had no certain business coming out of your mouth.

But look where you are now, as Jack has his arms strongly around your waist. “Baby..” he says. Kissing your neck with small little pecks, you felt nervous as you felt him tug you tighter to his chest.

“Who’s this? “Dylan” guy you’re talking about?” he questions as if you don't know the dark thoughts in his head, which are filled with on top with blonde hair.

“I meant to call your name.”

“Didn't seem like it,” he growled into your ear. You go to turn towards him to see how he is just insanely staring you down.

“Tell me. Who is this guy?” he demands with a low voice. His small pecks onto your neck started to turn into bites.

Wincing, you try to pull from his tight grip, but it only gets tighter as he growls.

“Answer, and I’ll be easy on you.” having enough, you headbutt him with the back of your head against his head.

There, Jack finally let you go, shaking away the shock from the hit as he stared at you down.

Glaring, you pointed down to the ground. “Down boy!” immediately after that command, Jack gets down on all fours with dark eyes as he still holds possessiveness to his eyes.

“Listen here, mister. You overthink so damn, it's certainly infuriating how much you lose your simple insanity over a simple miscalling of your name.”

As you keep chastising him, he frowns like a stupid dog and stands up. “Baby..” he whined as he went to hug you, you narrowed your sharp eyes, making them look sharper as Jack groaned annoyed.

“I'm sorry! I’ll get my act together next time. Promise.” crossing your arms after hearing his words. You huff, “you better. I don't have time to try and control you when you get like this.”

After that, you walked out of the room you and him were in. Jack waits before trying to follow you, that was before you yelled.

“NO! On your knees, arms up!” Jack obeys with a pout.

“This is bullshit!!!” he yells after you.

Jack Quinn tag: @xxxryukifukuxxx @lockofspades @sramoonlight @darkfaethedestroyer @gayartisticandlonely @sleeping-l0s3rs @itsmossy @dead-ry-walking @fanaticf1fan @cxcilla @wolffrankie @jellystar-star @nayykura @nickithearticorn @deadwillow240 @nightblanc @winter-world @valyntime @luxylucylou @timeastronomerdrawer @piratedelusion @existingtoreadfanfics @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[mayanneaa]

hits different - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x ex!reader

SUMMARY : jj broke up with you two months ago, but this one party makes him truly realize what he’s done.

WARNING(S) : swearing, jealous and super drunk jj, a little angst, fluff, minimal use of y/n (like once), might have some grammar errors, english is not my first language

A/N : first fic on here heheh obv inspired by 'hits different' by taylor swift. i recommend listening to it while reading :) dividers by @roseraris !! not proofread dont kill me

WC : 1.7k

masterlist.

After a fourth beer, the party got too loud and the lights too bright. Normally, in a moment like this, he would run to you, wrap his arms around you, and inhale your sweet, calming scent. Just as he’s about to do it, the realization hits him like one of the waves nearby.

You aren’t together anymore.

He sharply inhales and looks around. His vision is softly spinning, but it’s no problem for him. JJ spots you in a second. With another boy.

You two are just talking. You don’t even know this guy, he came up to you to ask about something so random it got lost in your chat long ago. You give him one of those kind smiles, and JJ feels his fists clench. “Fuck.”

The music changes. As if he wasn’t already miserable, the speakers let out the first notes of your song. The one he first kissed you to. The one you two always played, alone at the chateau dancing on the back porch.

The memories flood his mind, and he can’t take it anymore. Jj feels his heartbeat loud in his ears, and he wants to leave. To go to any of the pogues, or, even better, drive away in the Twinkie. But his eyes cannot move from your face, and his legs just don’t work.

It baffles him. Not once in his life, he couldn’t move on. But this time, with you, it's different. It hits different.

You finally catch him. The guy is still talking to you, but your attention is on the other side of the beach. Before you can interrupt, you see John B. coming up to JJ. He tells him something, grabs his arm, and leads his best friend somewhere. You feel your heart sink. “Are you okay?” you hear the guy ask, making you turn your head.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you quickly say, leaving him alone. You have to find JJ.

“Dude, stop this shit right now,” John B.’s holding the steering wheel, making his way to the Chateau. JJ's taken the passenger seat, shoulders slumped, and he runs his hand through the blonde strands.

"Yeah, easy for you to talk." he snarls, "You and Sarah are all happy together, you don't know how it's like-"

"I don't know because I don't just randomly break up with my girl over a bad day I had." John B. cuts him off and lets out a deep sigh. "JJ, you should talk to her. Everyone's done. You are constantly miserable."

JJ doesn't say anything. The words hit him like a slap, unnecessarily hurtful. Outside the window he sees the familiar place - they are at the Chateau.

"Get some rest, okay?" John B opens the door and helps JJ get in the house. "Call me in case something happens."

The blonde nods his head and plops on the couch, legs stretched out. Minutes pass, and he finds himself whispering your name, over and over again, as if he's scared he'll forget it.

His mind still replays that cold May night.

You two agreed to meet at the dock. The wind softly overflowed your face as you were waiting for him. When he finally came, you felt something was wrong. His usual smile was gone, and he didn't even look at you. You hugged yourself in your hoodie, "JJ? Is everything alright?"

He let out a shaky breath, leaning over the railings. "I think we should break up."

You blinked in surprise, your heart feeling heavy. "What?"

Your voice sounded smaller than you intended. You reached out for his hand, your own shaking.

"It will be better for both of us." JJ dismissively said, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down his body, and his throat tightened, but he brushed it off.

You felt so much hitting you. Tears burned under your eyelids, and anger started to bubble up. Did you do something? Or maybe he just decided you weren't good enough for him anymore?

"No," you whispered at first, but your voice was growing louder, "You don't get to just... just decide on my behalf!"

The moonlight fell on his face, and you tried to find any answers in his eyes. He stiffened, shaking his head before he repeated, "It will be better if we end it now."

You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. The tears threatening to fall finally flooded your face, a quiet scoff escaping your lips. "I can't believe this. This is how much it meant for you?"

You were met with silence. The atmosphere on the dock could be cut with a knife, and you couldn't just stand here. Before you registered it, your legs led you down, far from your boy- well... ex-boyfriend. JJ's eyes followed your every step. He wanted to run after you, to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But he didn't.

It wasn't just a one-day whim he had. It stuck with him ever since you two decided to make it official. It grew with every late night you spent not on something you like, but on cleaning him up after another fight. You didn’t say anything—but he knew. He knew that sooner or later, it will be too much. He will be too much to handle.

The sweetest girl walking on the earth, a literal angel and him. A failure, a Pogue whose fate it was to end up just like his father—always drunk, always angry.

His heart ached at this thought. You had so many opportunities, and if you decided to let it go because of him, he would never forgive himself.

Breaking up before he got even more attached was for the better. It had to be. Right?

JJ doesn’t know how long he’s been lying like this. His breathing is now steady and slow, and he has to remind himself to breath in again.

He closes his eyes, but can’t escape you. The memories come fast—not giving him much time for defense.

Your face. Always in the sun, glowing as if you were a goddess. The lips glossed from the cherries you’ve been eating. Your eyes, the creases forming in the corners almost constantly from smiling.

Your touch. All these quick brushes, the way you traced your soft fingertips over his forearm every time you sat nearby. The long, tight hugs during which JJ’s hands wrapped your waist, him hungrily inhaling your perfume.

His breath hitches. Is it truly the best this way?

Before he can answer, the quiet crack of a key opens the door. He darts up and immediately regrets it, as the whole room starts spinning.

“JJ?” he hears a soft whisper, and his heart skips a beat.

The warm lights of the Chateau reveal your face. He feels the heat rising to his cheeks, “What are you doing here?”

His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. You step closer, with a cautiousness that kills something inside him. He avoids your gaze, staring at the suddenly interesting floor.

“You’re not doing great, huh?” you say, but there’s no mockery or anger in your voice. There’s just… worry.

JJ turns around on his heels and sits down on couch, fearing that if he stands for a minute longer, he might just fall. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit that intensified over the two months.

“Stop it, Y/N.” he finally replies looking at you for the first time. The light reflects of his watery eyes, and his voice breaks when he continues, “Go back to the party and your new stupid little boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you fussing over me talking to a guy after you broke up with me?”

JJ shakes his head, looking at the floor again, “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore, I guess. You really should go—”

“Why did you end this?”

The question feels like an arrow through his heart. You’re standing with your hands crossed, not planning on going anywhere. “Why, J? We were happy. Did I do something…?”

“It wasn’t you.” In the response, he hears a snort.

Your gaze is heavy, with your eyebrows arched up. “Classic. Then what was it, JJ?” The tone of your voice is pushing, and you don’t even try to control it, “What happened that you decided to just leave me?”

“I was scared!” he snaps before he can think of anything better to say. “How do you imagine it? You… you can’t suffer with me forever. It’ll break you one day and—”

“JJ.”

The way you say his name pulls him out of the spiral. It slips off your tongue smoothly, just like it used to. You grip his arm, and JJ forgets what he was even talking about.

“You don’t get to make this decision without talking to me. Did you ever asked me how I feel about this?”

A blush creeps up on his cheeks, and whether you want it or not, the corners of your lips rise.

He tries to make any sense, the tears dangerously close to falling. “I mean— You deserve someone better. Someone who will keep you safe and… I’m not that person. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

You sigh. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone better, baby. I want you. That’s my decision.”

With these words, with what you called him, his walls crash. You pull him closer, your bodies touching and he can’t take it anymore. JJ lets out a muffled sob into the crook of your neck, gripping you like he’s never letting you go.

Your fingers find their way up to his hair, running through the golden strands as he’s shaking.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. So sorry—”

“Shhh,” You draw small circles on his back, and his breath slows down after some time. “We will talk about it tomorrow, ’kay? You’re super drunk right now.”

“Promise you won’t leave.” JJ sniffles, the tip of his nose pink. You giggle, but he pulls away to look at you, a serious expression on his face. “I’m not joking! Promise me you’ll still be here in the morning. Please.”

You gently squeeze his shaking hand and can’t help but smile. “I promise.”

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SUIT JACKET

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader ↳ part 2 here

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner seems to love his suit jacket on you. WARNING: nothing besides a few curses (I think) A/N: not my gif, ctto! This was also sitting on my drafts for almost a year and barely proofread, so I apologize for the errors.

Sunday, March 11, 2:04 AM

"Thanks, unibrow." You grinned drunkenly, smiling at your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, as you collapsed in the cab's backseat. His suit jacket kept you cozy and covered like a cocoon while you comfortably giggled at the applied inside joke of his new nickname.

With Penelope's constant peer pressure, your inhibition has reached rock bottom eleven shots, five cocktails, and two whiskey glasses ago. You downed liquor like water, easing your stiff shoulders.

Aaron only stared at you with the same impassive face he had and shut the door before the cold caught you. He hunched in front of the driver's window, "This woman is a federal agent, and if something happens to her, I'll hunt you down. Please, drive her home safely." He straightened back up, casually tapping the vehicle's roof.

The cab took you away only after Aaron snapped a picture of the cab's plate number. He sighed as the vehicle slowly disappeared from his line of sight. He twisted on the balls of his feet, met by his other children, agents drunkenly calling his name.

Tuesday, March 27, 10:14 AM

You scurried out of the elevator, weaving through the sea of agents in the bullpen and then to the conference room where everybody was already settled in.

"So sorry! There was this son of a b—" You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, clenching your fists. Then, you exhaled profoundly with a calm smile at the end. "I got in a car accident. Go on, Pen. Sorry for interrupting." You took a seat between Aaron and JJ.

JJ turned to you, "Are you okay?" Her hand gently landed on one of yours, giving you a worried squeeze.

You gathered a smile and raised a thumb, "Thick skull and strong bones. Nothing can break me, not even this unsub... whoa—" Your eyes widened a bit.

How ironic for your case to be about an unsub who performed a craniotomy on the victims. You smiled awkwardly, the similar tight-lipped smile that Spencer would always plaster on his face.

The other agents coughed a chuckle at your reaction while Penelope continued the debrief with the same horrified look.

Upon listening to the case details, you slowly felt colder, subtly rubbing the sides of your shoulders. You were so caught up in your anger towards the guy that rear-ended you you could've sworn your body was overheating. You left your blazer somewhere and were sure it wasn't in your wrecked car.

"Alright, wheels up in 30," Aaron announced, sending everyone to get out of their seats and grab their go bags and snapping you off your trance in the process.

You rushed to collect your file copy and headed for the door but halted when Aaron called you. You pivoted on your heels, "Yes?"

He was taking off his jacket, handing it to you as soon as it peeled off his body.

"I don't think dry cleaning your suit is part of my job description, Sir." You kidded as you stared at his black jacket.

Aaron rolled his eyes. It was so rare that you had to blink twice to ensure you didn't have a concussion from your minor car accident. "You're cold." He wasn't asking, plainly stating your slight predicament.

Your eyebrows knitted, mouth slightly opened. And as if the universe was mocking you, a sudden draft slapped you in a shiver. You snatched his jacket and mumbled a small thank you.

As you walked out of the conference room, teasing eyes bore holes into your being. Each BAU team member's narrowed brows held you captive, and their loud thoughts rang in your ears. You ignored all of it, though, taming your anxiety with the warmth of Aaron's jacket.

Wednesday, April 13, 1:37 PM

"Garcia, look for old cases with one young boy as a survivor." Aaron started, listing each task that everyone was to complete.

You were so focused on the case that your next movement caught you off guard.

Your back snapped straight from the slap of Minnesota air. It was brief. An officer merely opened and closed the door, but your body was nowhere near as warm as it was a few seconds ago.

The warmth of cotton fabric soon hugged your shoulders, along with the momentary weight of Aaron's hands, before he fully let go of his suit jacket.

He continued talking as if what he had just done was normal or anything close to casualty, "Morgan and Reid, try speaking with the victim's family one more time."

Emily exchanged looks with JJ, conversing silently while you obliviously sipped your coffee.

Friday, May 2, 5:04PM

"Capital O-M-G!" Penelope squealed, drumming on your shoulders as soon as she came close.

"Garcia, breathe," JJ gently placed her hands on Penelope's shoulders, modeling a regular breathing pattern.

Emily gave you a look as she sipped her coffee, which you returned with a shrug. Penelope was ever so eccentric. You've gotten used to it over the years you've been with the team.

"Okay, okay, okay. I'm good. Just that— I was— Ugh! Look!" Penelope shoved her phone in your face.

You saw a blinding blur, forcing out a sarcastic, "Wow! I can definitely see."

Luckily, JJ took it to herself to pull Penelope's phone away from messing up your eyesight and looked at the image plastered on the screen. A smirk immediately covered her lips, "Oh."

"What is it? Let me see—" Emily walked behind JJ. Her jaw dropped not long after. "Anything you want to tell us?" She cooed as she gave you the widest grin she had ever flashed, at least for that morning.

Your eyebrows clashed, and your forehead creased, "Whatever are you on about?"

"You're telling us nothing's happening between you and a guy?" Emily's grin only widened. You wondered how wide it could get, terrifying you in the process.

JJ flipped the phone to your end. The brightness of the screen stung your eyes a bit. "Want to explain this?"

Photo: It looked like the picture was cropped because you saw Derek's arm around you, but he was nowhere to be found in the image. Aaron's jacket was around your shoulders while he was behind you, glaring at Derek's arm.

"What about it?" The confusion was solid in your voice. However, you had a bit of an idea of what the three of them were insinuating.

Penelope stepped closer to you, "Uhuh, sure," she started as she zoomed in on the picture. "You're telling me you can't see Hotch's jacket on your shoulders, let alone Hotch glaring at my chocolate thunder?"

"He let me borrow his jacket because I was cold. Doesn't he always do that with everyone?" You innocently asked, looking at each one of them.

"Still doesn't explain him glaring at Derek." Emily chimed in a teasing tone, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your eyes widened, "You think Hotch was mad at me because I took it? He offered it to me, and I was cold. You think he was just being polite or?"

Penelope rolled her eyes and aimed her fluffy pen at you, "You oblivious profiler! He's jealous!"

"Uh-no," You chuckled.

"You don't believe me? Look at this."

Photo: This photo was older than the first one and might've been your third or fourth year with the BAU team. It seemed like all of you had just ended a case. You were snuggled on the couch on the jet. Aaron was draping his jacket over you.

"Who took that picture?" You queried.

Penelope raised her hand, "I was going to check in on everyone, then the camera spotted it, and I took a screenshot because I couldn't help myself. I was going to tease you about it but forgot for a very, very, very, very long time until I saw that picture from our last team night out." She wiggled her eyebrows, a playful smile on her lips.

"Looks like our boss has a favorite," JJ sang softly, looking at you with a knowing smile.

Emily nudged you, noticing the blush on your face. "You've gotta admit that's very sweet of Hotch. I think he likes you wearing his jacket." She teased, poking your sides.

"He does that to everyone, though," You reasoned. If you recall, he had offered his jacket to many people before.

"Nope, no!" Penelope shook her head vigorously with a tight lip. "He offers it to some but gives it to you."

"We had a case where it was biting cold outside. Hotch offered to help me if I needed a jacket. I said no because of politeness and shit, but he didn't insist. He didn't even offer his jacket. He offered to give me time to return to my room and grab my jacket." Emily grimaced, obviously still holding a grudge regarding the incident.

"I've known Hotch for years. Giving out his jacket was only for emergencies. If it's the only choice he had. We've had cases where a victim was a little too exposed, and his solution was to wrap them with the newspaper he conveniently found." JJ exclaimed, sorting the manila folders on her chest.

You gave it some thought and considered every possibility, but you shook your head. "He's just being nice because he's my boss. Plus, I'm still a bit tense around the team." You straightened yourself, fixing your top.

Emily cackled, "Getting flat-out drunk with us is definitely you still a bit tense around us."

"You know what I mean," You defended, blushing.

The three exchanged looks and shrugged. If you wanted to turn a blind eye, then it was your choice. But they had a perfect theory and tried to test it out.

Aaron was heading to the elevator as you exited the bullpen. The three of them grinned.

"Going for girls night?" Aaron quipped, raising his eyebrows.

JJ frowned, "We were, but she's feeling sick. I think the cold's getting to her." She gave you a pitiful hug.

Your eyes blew wide, jerking your head behind you where the other two stood with maniac grins. You knew what JJ was doing. It didn't take a second for you to figure it out. And as if luck was on their side, the elevator dinged.

You followed their figures as they piled in in the lift. You glared at them, but Emily focused on the man beside you.

You gazed at Aaron and were met with his jacket stretched out to you. Your mouth fell open, unable to breathe.

"It's cold outside this time of night. You'll feel worse if you don't layer up." Aaron cleared his throat, "Take it."

You reached for his jacket so slowly that he took it in himself to wrap it around your shoulders. "Thank you," Your voice quivered, hesitantly stepping inside the elevator.

He followed, standing beside you. You could feel the three devils behind you, preparing yourself for their constant teasing.

Unbeknownst to any of you, Aaron was holding his breath in the hopes that none of you would notice his blushing ears.

Monday, May 16, 8:12PM

The entire day has been a drag. Besides the unsub being disgustingly great at hiding his tracks in the safety of your local area, your stomach had been giving you the worst time of your life.

Later in the evening, in Aaron's orders, everyone was sent home to get some rest and start fresh the next day.

You were thankful. You needed to rest from all the stomach-emptying vomit you did in the restroom. Your acid reflux was having a field day and didn't let you get a breath. You practically lived in the toilet. You even had to call Derek and ask him to put you on speaker so you could contribute to finding the unsub. Luckily, they didn't question it.

Emily retracted away as she exited your hug, "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home? We practically live in this building. I don't think they'd mind you leaving your car here for a night."

A warm smile brightened your drained face, "Yes, I'm sure. Thanks for the offer." You bid her one last goodbye before heading to your own car.

Your head was down as the day's exhaustion finally caught up. Your senses were off. You walked as if time stopped. You wondered if you should've taken advantage of Emily's offer.

With your loud thoughts and vulnerable senses, a heart attack almost killed you when a sudden cage of warmth engulfed your body. For a moment, your body wanted to fight, but it didn't take long for you to remember the familiarity of this warmth.

"What took you so long?" His voice was gentle and comforting enough to put you to sleep immediately.

You looked up at Aaron, who refused to unwrap his arms around you, "I didn't know you were waiting. I thought you went home already. Isn't Jack waiting for you? It's movie night."

Aaron smiled, "I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked. Captain Jack's orders."

You couldn't help but smile as well. He held the door for the passenger seat before jumping to the driver's seat. As you watched him go around, you noticed his scent lingered on your shoulders.

Aaron placed his jacket on yours.

"You ought to be careful," A chuckle passed your lips, "The gals are onto you."

"Why?" Aaron looked at you with a confused expression. His face made you giggle. The genuineness of his expression made you wonder his reaction if you had said the same thing two years ago.

A grin glistened on your face, "They say Agent Hotchner has a crush on me." Your voice danced with playfulness.

Aaron copied your grin and shrugged, "I'm surprised they haven't figured it out after all these years." He turned his body to face you, "So? Do you like him back?"

If only the BAU team knew how their unit chief, the SSA Aaron Hotchner, was a lot friskier than they perceived him to be, Aaron wouldn't last a day from all the teasing.

Then you wondered how the BAU team would react if they found out you and Aaron have been dating for the past two years and successfully kept it a secret from everyone except Strauss and Rossi.

Or the number of questions you'd be bombarded with when they learn that you recently moved in together with Aaron and Jack. You knew well enough that the ladies would be interrogating you like a serial killer.

You shrugged, "I heard he's got a fiancée." You fished the necklace well hidden under your shirt. A golden ring band shaped like vines with an oval-cut blue moon diamond dangled on the chain.

"Yeah..." Aaron held your hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it, "You wouldn't want to be in the way of that." He smiled widely, an ever-loving expression you indulged yourself with for the past two years and soon... for a lifetime.

[opt1mistic]

TAKE A BITE OUT OF ME

❦ vampire!caitlyn x reader .𓏲 cw: accidental cannibalism, smut, blood, oral(r!receiving), pain kink, orgasm denial, caitlyn is a little crazy... tis is some nasty i am not gonna lie. this was proofred at 3 am so if there’s any errors pardon any and all. wc: 0.8k. viewers discretion is advised.

note: testing the waters…. masterlist | caitlyn masterlist

𖥻 ───── dim lit room, shadows of the moon over your bare torso. fresh darkened blood leaking from wounds of fangs, as lips slips away, in silence it hangs. her tongue drags over your pussy, eating you like a starved beast.

one arm warped around your hip, the other traveling up your shivered thigh, over the hip, to your stomach. her bloodied palm leaving a print that may stain.

caitlyn's lips, cold, sucked your clit, bruising. it felt good, the pain of sweet torment. her nails digging into the skin over your left rib cage; drawing silver. caitlyn's palm is moving down your body again, hooking her arm around you other hip.

blood leaping from the cavity of your chest, the feeling of pain traveling down your veins, sending more shivers over your body, a body aching in misery. her touch hurt, it's pain is agonizing on your skin. it claws at your insides, twisting like a serpent, tightening with every breath.

a tight knot in the very pit of your abdomen, on the verge of release. the feeling of that knot untying getting oh so close, and it all stops. the knot disappearing, perishing into thin air. chin of slick moving up your body, kissing every inch in sight.

the freshly created wound by her hand, blood still flowing out. caitlyn's lips latch onto it, smothering blood over her lower face. your blood was like cruel kiss on her tongue, iron heavy, spilling into the soul and coating every thought with it's unholy sweetness.

"mhhaa-" you feel her sharpened fangs dig into the already torn skin of your chest. punctuating the holes she made with her nails even deeper. and she's giggling. psychopathic laughter, caitlyn is enjoying the fact that you're in pain. that her pleasure is your pain.

she completely pussy whipped, high off you. the saccharine flavour of your blood and juices mixing, swirling around in her mouth. your fists are clenching the bed sheets, your knuckles are white.

the abused vessel you call a body, attempting to withstand pain is a form of torture. pain you endure because it makes her feel good. the more blood she take from you the more empty you feel. the tension slowly leaving your limbs and your lids feel heavy.

tears pick up in your eyes, salty droplets of water seeping down the sides of your face. it hurts so much, but it feels too good to stop. caitlyn wasn’t some evil monster, if you didn't want this she’d stop. but you've never wanted the pain to stop. you favoured it. you wanted— needed, longed, for more of it.

"b-biahhhte...bite. me...." you yelped, as a new wave of pain filled your body.

your words hung in the thick clouds in that dark filled room. bite me... caitlyn has done it many times, but she knew what you meant, what you really wanted. you wanted her to take a bite out of you. to eat you.

you wanted her to taste your skin. the muscle that layed over your bones. the meat around you, to devote yourself to her, tell her that you loved her.

so, her teeth pierce, let your flesh give way, for in the taking, you believed love would stay. a devotion carved in blood, in pain, in skin, a vow that began where fangs sunk in.

to be consumed was to belong,— belong her, to feel her cold touch was to be strong. if surrender was love, then you'd bare your soul, your body the offering to make you whole.

your skin rips, the stretch of it as she rips, rips and rips. the small flesh she's taking is forever to be hers. her small piece of you that she would remember forevermore, a scar you'd carry till always.

caitlyn lifts up from you, straddling your exposed hips. she's smiling, happy. blood falling from her lips, and the cluck of skin she just swallowed filled her up like a feast.

chopper, laced with poison, your poison, you feed it to her. bloodied limbs, you're too weak to move, to say 'thank you', you stare at her satisfied expressions. caitlyn is joyed, in bliss.

swiping over her lip, blood filled lips, shoving her bloodied finger into your mouth. making you taste the silver poison. caitlyn is pressing her chest against yours, her lips find yours and she kisses you.

the burning pain of her bite forced more tears from your eyes. blood gushing out from your chest, excessive amounts of blood. you try to grasp onto thoughts but it's too much, then your hand reaches to cover your wound, as you feel the sensation of your fingers on the hole, you go limp.

closed eyes, with one final thought you grasped onto: will i wake up? or will she eat me?

you wished to see the light tomorrow, to wake and find her by your side. but deeper still was the quiet yearning — to be taken, loved, and lost to her hands, a tender end you couldn't deny.

taglist: @r3starttt @sapphicides @halle5s @child-of-plut0

[orangesaek]

i don't want to be an idol

"As much as I love you, music is so important to me too, I can’t help it. After some time passes, after I become a bit more famous, I will reveal you to the world – I love you."

pairings: (ex-bf) idol!Mark x fem reader genre: mainly angst with a liiiiitle fluff wc: 2.1k

summary: you look back at the once-loving relationship you had with your ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee of NCT.

warnings: aside from angst, I honestly don't think there's anything else... but if you find something that needs a warning, please let me know!

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. do not copy, translate, or plagiarize any of my works! not proofread btw, so sorry for any misspellings/errors in grammar (but I will try to edit whatever I find that needs changing)

a/n: IT'S BEEN A LOOONG WHILE omg I've had this writer's block for so long, aside from dealing with life :') I hope everyone's doing well <3 anw, I wonder if anyone here knows VIXX's b-side "I Don't Want To Be An Idol"? lemme know <3 this story is (loosely) based on that song :')

-

You were mindlessly browsing through videos on Youtube to watch on TV one, lazy Monday, when you came across a suggested live video that made you feel things you thought you have long forgotten.

With some hesitation, you pressed on your remote to watch the said live video. 

It was Mark Lee’s showcase for his first ever album, The Firstfruit. 

You shifted carefully in your seat on the couch, trying to settle in a more comfortable position, as you watched Mark smile shyly on camera. ‘He must be really nervous’, you thought, noticing how he was sitting so still, unlike when he was with his members.

“So, Mark,” the host started. “Would you be willing to show us your ‘On Repeat’ playlist right now?”

“O-oh, yeah,” Mark laughed awkwardly before fishing out his phone from his pocket and tapping on it. The host smiled excitedly as he waited for Mark to show his phone to the camera. 

“Okay… uhm, should I…? Just?” Mark asked the host, gesturing between his phone and the camera. 

“Yes, if you’re ready to show your playlist to us.” The host chuckled, most probably because of how nervous Mark looked to him. Mark was looking down at his phone, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck before finally showing his screen to the camera. The cameraman zoomed in, and Mark looked up to check the big LED screens of the venue. It was the first time he ever showed his screen to the public, and he kinda regrets having said ‘yes’ to this.

The host turned in his seat to check the LED screen behind him. He expressed amusement at the list.

“As expected, you listen to many Western artists,” the host remarked. “Oh, and I think this one’s a worship song… wow.”

“Yeah, uhm, most of them are artists I look up to, while some are just songs that I deeply resonated with,” Mark explained, chuckling quite nervously. “But yeah, my ‘On Repeat’ playlist is honestly just random...”

The host hummed, nodding his head lightly, before tilting his head to the side seemingly in wonder. Mark noticed that, and he suddenly felt his hands get sweaty. The host turned back to look at Mark, who had now become slightly fidgety.

“Mark, would you mind showing us the upper half, too? If you don’t mind at all,” the host asked. 

Fans watching his live showcase online noticed how Mark looked visibly uncomfortable and started flooding the comment section about it, hoping that whoever was in charge of the show would notice and ask the host to move on to another topic.

Fortunately, the production team read the comments and instructed the host through his in-ear to redirect the conversation. However, before the host could even think of a way to change the topic, Mark had already revealed his screen again to the camera.

“These are my top 10.” He said quietly into the microphone.

Various reactions were seen and heard from the fans at the venue after his screen was shown. A few excited screams were heard, but most of the reactions picked up on audio were gasps and whispers.

‘Is this real?’

‘It can’t be… what is this?’

‘Daebak…’

The host observed the fans’ reactions before looking at Mark, feeling unsure about what was happening. He hesitantly turned back in his seat to look at the LED screen and finally understood why there were mixed reactions in the crowd.

Before the host could turn back to look at Mark again, he heard one of the producers instruct him again through his in-ear to ask Mark one last question about the playlist and move on quickly to the next topic.

The host laughed quite awkwardly before turning back to Mark, clearing his throat in the process.

“So, uh, Mark,” he started, feeling quite unsure what to even ask him that wouldn’t cost him his job that day.

“Uh, we can definitely see how random your playlist is… we know that your mood and your music preferences change as time goes by, and there’s a high chance that you will have a new batch of songs on repeat,” the host paused, obviously trying to find the right words.

He briefly scanned the crowd before looking back at Mark in confusion. The host couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Mark suddenly looked quite relaxed… relieved, even.

“But is there a song in this playlist you know would always be there?” He finally asked.

Mark was quite taken aback by the question but still smiled, albeit shyly. He put his phone back in his pocket and let out a sigh that was picked up by his microphone.

“A song that would always be there, huh?” He whispered into the microphone as he stared at the floor, looking like he was in deep thought.

“I think—no, actually,” he paused. Mark looked at the camera and showed a small smile. 

“I choose VIXX-subaenim’s ‘I Don’t Want To Be An Idol’ as the song that would always be on this playlist.”

The host looked visibly confused; he wasn’t sure how he should approach this situation, which was evident in his voice when he asked Mark ‘why’.

Mark brought the microphone back up to his lips.

“Um…” he started, but paused for a moment, his mouth slightly open, like he already had an answer but decided against saying whatever it was, and was now thinking of the right words to say.

“It just resonated so much with me, as an idol in this fast-paced industry,” he answered, voice soft and sounding like he was in deep thought.

“When I first listened to this song, I wasn’t even an idol yet, so the lyrics didn’t even make sense to me… but when I officially entered this industry, I finally understood how deep the lyrics were…” he paused again before continuing, “I obviously can’t speak for every public figure on this planet, but for me, this song perfectly describes the reality of what dating can be like for a celebrity.”

The host’s expressions turned soft, seeing Mark in a new light. Sure, he may not be as popular as Mark, and he may not know what exactly Mark went through, but the host fully understood what he meant. 

The host briefly looked at the fans, trying to gauge their reactions. As expected, there were some who looked quite upset, but the majority, based on what the host briefly saw, looked as if they also understood Mark’s words and sympathized. The host felt that it was the right time to move on from the topic and smoothly opened up a new discussion about his album.

Meanwhile, you were crying in front of the TV. You could barely hear what they were even talking about now as you tried to wipe away the tears that just never seemed to stop flowing down your cheeks.

You were confused, not really sure why you were crying in the first place.

Was it because you were happy for Mark to have finally had the chance to release an album he always dreamed of? To have finally had the chance to release the drafts that were long sitting in his laptop?

Or was it because you were reminded of your memories with him? The ones you forcibly kept hidden in the farthest back of your mind?

You were reminded of the day you first met him, and how your unexpected friendship turned into a relationship. A secret one, which you readily accepted.

You were reminded of how his warm hand fit yours perfectly like a puzzle piece, and how he’d always look at you lovingly when he kissed the back of your hand.

You were reminded of those times he would come over to your apartment and insist on cooking something for you. Most of the time, you would both end up having to order food instead because Mark can do anything but cook. But it’s the thought that counts, right?

You were reminded of how he would sigh in content whenever you would run your fingers through his hair when you’re cuddling, and how he actually loved being the small spoon.

You were reminded of how soft his lips were, and how gentle he touched you, like you were going to break if he was any less gentle.

He brought so much happiness to your life. 

But you were also reminded of how he would send you flowers and gifts as an apology for not being with you on your birthdays and anniversaries.

How you never had a proper date outside of your apartment, in fear of being seen. Even a quick date at the cafe near your apartment would be too risky.

You were reminded of how you couldn’t rely on him during the times you needed him the most because he’s almost always working. One day, you’re breathing the same air. The next, he’s already overseas. You couldn’t even reach out to him anytime and had to always wait for him to do it first.

You realized how difficult it was for you to keep up with him. He’s Mark Lee afterall, one of the idols with the craziest schedules in the industry for years now. 

And that’s why you broke up with him. 

You saw how he begged for you to stay, and you could see how deeply hurt he was. He did things he didn’t usually do when you were still together. 

He called you daily for weeks. Calls you never answered. 

He texted you daily for months, asking how you were, how your day was, and if he could see you even for just 5 minutes. Texts you answered with a few words, but mostly ignored. 

You would see random gifts on your doorstep that always came with heartfelt love letters from him.

There were even times when you would receive emails from him with attachments; they were songs he recorded for you, saying that he meant each and every word.

You can’t lie—the thought of getting back with him did cross your mind before. How could you not? His idol status aside, Mark was genuinely a good person. There was not a single bad bone in his body. And you did feel that his love for you was sincere.

But you solidified your resolve to let him go forever after you decided to meet up with him one last time. He got down on his knees and begged for you to take him back. He said that things are looking up for him, and that he would be able to treat you so much better. He said that he was willing to do anything and everything to make you happy, even if that means he will have to give up his career for you. 

That was it.

You couldn’t let Mark give up on his career just for you. He worked so hard to get to where he is now, and giving it all up for you was just not worth it. Mark was obviously meant for the stage, and he was meant to inspire and give hope to everyone who looked up to him.

You wanted only the best for him. He deserved all the good things in life, you wanted him to be happy. 

And so, with tears brimming your eyes, you told him to forget about you and move on. You left him without turning back, afraid that if you did, your resolve would crumble and you’d take him back right then and there.

It had already been quite some time since your relationship ended, and seeing him on the news, interviews, print ads, TV commercials, magazine features, LED ads in the city, or hearing one of their songs playing in stores while out shopping didn’t affect you that much anymore.

“Honey, I never thought I’d see you cry because of some guy on TV.” a voice behind you asks, chuckling lightheartedly. You sniffled as you hurriedly wiped your tears away.

It was your husband. 

“It must be little peanut over here causing all this.” you said as you pointed to your belly. Your husband then plops himself beside you on the couch, gently rubbing circles on your baby bump.

“Aigoo~ is it really because of you, our little peanut?” he coos affectionately before his attention was taken away by the TV as he watched Mark perform one of the songs in his album.

“Who is he?” he asks.

“Mark Lee...” you answered quietly. It has been a while since you said his name out loud, and it felt strange but familiar to you at the same time.

“Mark Lee, huh? He’s pretty good, gotta give him that!” your husband commented, “That must be why you like him?”

‘Actually… I loved him with all my heart’, you thought, but you just nodded quietly. You looked at your husband, who was bobbing his head lightly to the music, and smiled to yourself before engulfing him in a hug. You looked at Mark on the TV.

‘I’m proud of you, Mark Lee. Always.’ you thought, as a final tear for him rolled down your cheek.

[thepinkpanther83]

Reader (person A) and Eddie (person B) are hanging out in eddies trailer and the following below happens but they don't talk about it until reader thinks of the chapstick challenge which leads to them confessing and making out? You can choose the flavors.

Please? Thank you 😊

The Cherry on Top

One-Shot Request: “The Cherry on Top”

Eddie Munson x Reader

💌 Author’s Note: Huge thank you to the wonderful @meankenna for inspiring this one-shot with such a fun, and flirty prompt! This story was an absolute blast to write- equal parts sweet and shameless, and I hope it gives you all the butterflies it gave me while working on it. You’ve got great taste (in fic ideas and chapstick). 💋

If you enjoyed this story, consider leaving a comment or reblog- it helps more than you know! Stay soft, stay curious, and never underestimate a well-timed kiss. ~Pinkie 🍒

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Summary:

A lazy afternoon at Eddie Munson’s trailer takes a turn when one little question about cherry chapstick leads to a moment neither of you can pretend didn’t happen. Suddenly, there’s tension where there used to be teasing, and silence where there used to be laughter. But when a certain “challenge” comes to mind, you decide it’s time to settle the score… with lips, not logic. What started as a joke, might just be the cherry on top of something real.

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

The Cherry on Top

One-Shot Request: “The Cherry on Top”

The hum of the cassette player fills the trailer with the low, raspy growl of Dio’s vocals, humming like a heartbeat beneath your easy chatter. You’re sprawled on Eddie’s old couch, one leg tucked underneath you, the other stretched out dangerously close to where his thigh is angled across the cushion.

Neither of you are really talking about anything important. You’re just… there. Comfortable. Close. Too close, if you stopped to think about it- which you absolutely refuse to do.

Eddie’s sitting sideways, arm thrown over the back of the couch, rings tapping absent patterns into the upholstery behind your neck. He’s grinning, eyes half-lidded, face soft from the lazy rhythm of the day. There’s an open bag of pretzels on the table, forgotten. One of your hoodies is balled up at your side, still holding your body heat from earlier.

You’d watched a movie hours ago. Or at least started one. Now it's just staticy music and half-finished conversations, the kind that drift off when they get too honest.

And in a moment of autopilot, you fish out your cherry chapstick. Twist the cap. Swipe it across your lips.

That’s when everything shifts.

You don’t notice him freeze- not at first. But he does. Like someone hit pause on his whole body. His eyes flick to your mouth and stay there, lips parting the tiniest bit, as if caught in the middle of a thought he forgot to say out loud.

“…What flavor is that?” he asks, like it physically hurts him not to know.

You blink at him. “Uh. Cherry.” You roll the cap back on and toss the stick into your hoodie pocket. “It’s really good, too.”

Eddie nods once, slowly. Then leans in just a fraction. “Can I try it?”

You’re already reaching for your hoodie, digging out the chapstick again. “Sure,” you say, holding it out between two fingers.

He doesn't take it.

Instead, Eddie leans in, slow but certain, like gravity’s finally had enough of your mutual pretending. His hand brushes your wrist, lowers the chapstick gently. Then- without giving you a second to react… he kisses you.

It’s not rough. Not frantic. Just deliberate. Lips warm and firm against yours, tasting faintly of cherry and Eddie and a hundred things you’ve never had the courage to name.

He pulls back just a breath, close enough that you can feel the smirk forming on his mouth before he even speaks.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “You’re right. It does taste good.”

You stare at him, brain officially fried. Function: unavailable. Thoughts: error 404. All you can do is sit there, lips tingling, mouth open just a little, totally wrecked by one kiss and a comment about chapstick.

You’re still staring at him.

He’s still staring at you.

The trailer is quiet. Like, you can hear the hum of the refrigerator and the flick of his thumb as he nervously picks at a loose string on the couch.

Then Eddie clears his throat. Loud. Awkward. Dramatic. “So,” he says, voice about an octave higher than normal, “you, uh… think Dio would survive in a bare-knuckle cage match against Ozzy?”

What.

Your lips are still tingling, and this man is asking about metal frontmen hypothetical brawls like he didn’t just bypass years of friendship rules and press his mouth to yours like it was nothing.

“…Are we seriously not gonna talk about what just happened?” you ask, before you can stop yourself.

He glances at you. Smiles. Shrugs.

“Dunno what you mean,” he says coolly, casually, the picture of someone who is not currently imploding on the inside. “I asked for chapstick. You gave it to me. I tried it. It’s good. Mission accomplished.”

You blink. “You kissed me, Eddie.”

He fake gasps. “I did? Oh no. Must’ve slipped. Could’ve sworn I was reaching for the stick.”

“Eddie-”

“Hey, d’you wanna throw on another tape?” he interrupts, already getting up, not looking at you. “I think I’ve got that W.A.S.P. live album somewhere in the crate. Or- wait, no- Queen! We need to appreciate the artistry of Brian May more.”

He’s practically scrambling toward the tape shelf, muttering nonsense, hair falling in his face, while you sit there in complete disbelief.

You don’t push. You don’t chase him down or beg for clarity. You’re too scared of what it might do to the delicate thread tying the two of you together- so you let him keep pretending. You help. You joke. You nod along when he makes some stupid remark about Freddie Mercury’s god-tier vocal range.

But neither of you laughs the same.

The air’s different now- tight, humming, like a storm you both agreed not to name. You make it through the rest of the afternoon with polite smiles and long, loaded silences where your knees accidentally touch and neither of you breathes.

Eventually, you say you’ve gotta head home. Something about chores, or helping your mom, or feeding your cat. It doesn’t matter. You just need to get out.

He walks you to the door, as always. He tells you to page him when you get home, as always.

He doesn’t mention the kiss. At all.

And you don’t either.

Not until you’re in your room later that night, lights off, fingers brushing your bottom lip like you’re checking to see if the feeling’s still there.

You try journaling. You write “HE KISSED ME” in all caps three times before ripping the page out and stuffing it under your bed like a confession. Then you pace. Then you lay down. Then you sit back up. Then you wonder what would’ve happened if you kissed him back just a little harder, or said something like, “Do it again.”

But you didn’t.

And now you’re spiraling, tangled in your sheets, a cherry flavored ghost still dancing across your lips, trying to figure out if he meant it- or if he was just being Eddie.

It’s been days.

Days since “The Incident.”

Days since the kiss he never explained. Days since you half-lost your mind and wrote a fake letter to him you’ll never send titled, Dear Eddie, please do that again, I beg of you.

Now you’re back at his trailer, like nothing happened- except everything did. You’re both pretending to be normal. Again. You’re on the couch. Again. He’s doing that dumb thing where he pokes your knee with his toe like a child seeking attention. Again.

But tonight, you’re ready. Tonight, you brought props.

You wait until the timing’s perfect- he’s mid-rant about how Ace of Spades was robbed at the Grammys' when you interrupt with:

“Hey, so… remember when you totally stole my chapstick with your mouth and then never brought it up again?”

He chokes on a handful of Doritos. “I mean, stole is a strong word-”

You raise an eyebrow. “Pretty sure there’s a federal charge for grand larceny of flavored lip balm.”

He snorts, a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright, maybe I panicked. Maybe I got carried away.”

You lean forward on your elbows, casual but not really. “You know there’s an actual Chapstick Challenge, right? Where you’re supposed to guess the flavor by kissing someone?”

He freezes. “…That’s real?”

“Yup.” You pull a little zippered pouch from your bag and spill a rainbow army of chapsticks onto the table. “I brought options.”

His eyes go huge. “You’re kidding.”

You smirk. “Nope. Wanna try the official version this time?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

He launches himself across the couch, lips crashing into yours with so much enthusiasm you laugh into the kiss. His hands find your waist like they’ve been waiting for clearance, and yours tangle in that ridiculous mop of curls. It’s messy and a little clumsy, both of you grinning like idiots between breaths.

You taste like strawberry first. He gets it right. Then vanilla mint. Right again.

“Okay,” he gasps between kisses, “I’m kind of a prodigy at this.”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

He does. Over and over between applications. With gusto. With reverence. With the sort of soft desperation that only comes from finally getting the thing you thought you’d never have.

“Wait- what flavor is this?” he mumbles against your mouth.

You blink, confused. “I didn’t put anything on-”

He grins. “Hmm. Must just be ‘You.’ That one’s my favorite.”

You shove his shoulder. He kisses you harder.

Eventually, you’re a giggling, half-dazed mess on the couch, limbs tangled and chapstick containers strewn around like colorful evidence of the war you just won.

He pulls back only slightly, forehead pressed to yours, and whispers:

“So… you wanna, I dunno… maybe be my cherry-flavored girlfriend or something?”

You smile and kiss him again.

Translation: Yes.

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