#I should check up in him and see how he's doing...

[tw1sters]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ husband? never heard of him.

When Jake stumbles into your office attempting to flirt with you, all you can do is humor the fact that your husband seems to have forgotten you.

▸ PAIRING: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Wife!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: Pure fluff, slight amnesia, injured Jake, sexual jokes ▸ WORD COUNT: 1.6K ▸ A/N: wrote a quick small idea because i love a good secret relationship and a flirty hangman

The crash outside piques your curiosity. You abandon the latest report you’re working on and get up to swing open your door right on time for a certain blonde aviator to spill into the infirmary. Jake barging into your office is not news; he barges in probably more than he really should, particularly when you’re with patients.

“Boundaries” becomes the most used word in your relationship. 

Only thing is, this time, he’s looking at you with big, surprised eyes. The tinges of blue around his emerald eyes are even more prominent when they’re blown up. “Who allowed you to look this good, Doc,” he says with a swagger in his step, eyes droopy now as he leans against the doorframe. 

Before you can question him, Rooster walks through the door, a pitying look at Jake. “He’s on the good stuff. Maybe too much of it.” You quirk an eyebrow. “Sedatives.”

Your eyes dart briefly to Jake who is still eyeing you with interest but now he has taken over your chair, propping his chin up on his palm with his elbow on your desk. That smug smile, albeit a little sleepier, is still plastered across his face. 

“He crashed earlier–” The smile wipes off your face quickly and Rooster instantly adds, “Nothing big, managed to get out, but he landed wrong cause he ejected too close to the ground. We had to take him to the hospital. Most of it’s around his ribs, but he’s okay.” 

Drifting over to Jake, you cup his face and tilt him to look up at you. While he’s busy giving you dark, flirty glances, you are checking him for any signs of permanent damage. He has a few scratches on his face, you notice now the new band-aid he’s sporting on his cheek. 

You’re on your knees then and you’re slowly unbuttoning his uniform. If he’s really injured here, he should probably be wearing something more breathable. You remember he packed an extra short-sleeved shirt this morning. 

“Whoa, at least take me out to dinner first,” Jake teases, which earns a roll of your eyes. 

“Told his dumb ass he should be going straight home but he insisted on making a pit stop here. Something about getting a second look. He might’ve also said something along the lines of visiting the pretty doctor.” Your eyes snap up to Rooster, who holds his hands up in defense. “His words, not mine.”

Humored, you look at him playfully, accusingly. “So you don’t think I’m pretty?”

“That’s not what I said!” Rooster immediately replies, face flushing crimson. “Anyways, before I dig a deeper hole for myself, I’m going to leave him in your very capable hands. Whenever he’s done, one of the guys can drop him off at home.”

“I’m going to wrap up soon so I've got him, don’t worry.”

“You got his address?”

You fight to keep a straight face. “Yeah, it’s on his records.”

“Awesome, thanks, Doc. See you tomorrow.” With that, Rooster makes his exit, the door slamming shut behind him.

You wait a moment and thank the heavens that Jake has the false reputation of being an incorrigible flirt. That will hopefully throw off any suspicion of your relationship. 

When you know you’re in the clear, you inspect Jake a little more closely. There are bandages wrapped around his abdomen and you wonder how severe the accident was if they had to give him sedatives. Then again, it’s entirely possible that Jake was being a little bitch and they gave it to him just to shut his mouth.

Aside from the minor injuries, he seems to be in pretty good shape. Physically at least.

Mentally – you look up at him and he’s still smiling stupidly at you – he’s perhaps not quite there yet.

“Jake, honey, I’m going to need to move you to the bed.”

“So soon?” His eyes blow up comically before the expression falls away to a confident grin. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

A disgruntled sigh slips past your lips. Even when he’s drugged up, he still manages to be insufferable. You position his arm around your shoulders and slowly help him to his feet. Jake leans his weight on you, but more so because he really likes being this close to you. The man is heavy to say the least. All six feet of him. You lead him carefully towards the infirmary bed with him nuzzling into your hair the entire time. 

He hums thoughtfully and grins against the side of your head. His hot breath tickles your neck right as you plop him on top of the comforter. He avidly refuses to lie down, instead scooching his way in until he’s sat with his back against the wall. 

Jake turns to you, grinning smugly with teeth in full view.

“Damn, darlin’, you smell so good. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You’re just sitting down on the edge of the bed when you hear it and freeze. “Come again?”

“Sweetheart, we haven’t even come once,” Jake retorts, seeming all too pleased with his joke. The ‘we’ is cute, very considerate of him to include both of you in the conversation. However, you’re too distracted by his question. 

“You’re asking me if I have a boyfriend.” You repeat, incredulous. 

Jake nods aggressively, likely jumbling his head even worse. 

A smile tilts the corner of your lips. You raise your left hand, showing him the back of it. “I’m married actually.”

“Married?” He gasps, completely aghast. He looks crestfallen and then stares at the ring in annoyance. “I mean, of course, you’d be married. You’re so smart, and so pretty. You also embarrassed Rooster? God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. Who’s the lucky person? Do I know them? Are they on base?”

“You do know him, very well in fact. He is on base.”

A growl rises from his throat. “He better watch his back, I’ll get him if he even thinks about slipping once.”

“Really? How would you do that?”

“I could fight him.”

You chuckle. “Right, you’ll fight him. That might be a little hard.”

“Why is that?”

“He’s pretty tough. He’s tall. Very strong. Very handsome too.”

Jake scowls. “Alright, so he’s Mr. Perfect because you’re also perfect. Well, if I ever catch him not being perfect, I’m going to swoop in for the kill. Neither of you will ever see me coming.”

A grin stretches across his face at your laugh. “Good to know, Seresin. I’ll make sure to warn him.”

“Hm, so you’re really married,” Jake repeats again in a deep, disappointed sigh. He takes your left hand in both of his, looking down at the spectacular rock on your hand. He lets out a low whistle before he grimaces, realizing who he’s complimenting. 

Actually, not even realizing who he’s complimenting. 

“He did good, your husband.” Jake turns your hand, letting the diamond catch the sunlight. The facets sparkle, speckling the room with blinding polka dots. “Gorgeous ring for a gorgeous girl.”

Heat creeps up your cheeks. “Thank you.” You pause before dropping another bomb on him. “I should also probably tell you that you’re also married.”

Jake jerks back, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly he turns to look at you. “I am? To who? I think I’d know if I was married.”

“A very lucky woman.” 

“Well, shit.” Jake grunts. “Well, if I married her, then I’m sure she’s as perfect as you.”

“Probably more alike than you think,” you mutter under your breath. 

Jake is smiling at you softly and you see his eyes begin to close. His eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open. It’s as if he is striving to commit your face to memory. “I think I’m kinda sleepy, Doc.”

“Well, you best get your rest then.” 

“When I wake up, if you happen to be single, you let me know right away. Or even before I wake up, that might just do the trick.”

“You got it, Hangman.”

–

“I had the strangest dream,” Jake tells you on your drive home. 

He’s in the passenger seat, his head still spinning a little from the heavy slumber. He had woken up when everyone else was long gone and found you flipping through your novel, waiting for him. He didn’t seem to remember what happened just an hour prior, so you let it play out, told him he just slept the entire time. 

“Hm, what about?”

“I was flirting with this woman,” he says, sounding even more confused than you should be. “I promise, sweetheart, I’d never hit on anyone else. I haven’t hit on anyone else, not since that time I flirted with you when you first joined.” 

You hide your smile, focusing instead on the road. “Yeah, was she pretty?”

Clearly, a part of him does think so because he hesitates before responding. “Would you be upset if I said she was? I can’t even remember her face. I just remember thinking she was so fuckin’ stunning.” 

“Should I be concerned about this fictional woman?” 

“Definitely not,” Jake scoffs, crossing his arms over your chest. “Dream woman could never compare to you. The real deal.” 

You let out a little mm-hmm as you pull out something from your pocket. His dog tag dangles from your hand, glimmering right next to the wedding band he keeps around his neck. “Rooster gave it to me before he left. Said you dropped it in your landing.”

He gratefully accepts the necklace and clasps it around his neck. “Thank you, did he ask about the–you know.” 

“You mean your wedding ring? The one you’ve been wearing since you married me a year ago? The one you keep secret from your squadmates because no one knows you’re married and you let them believe you’re still a cocky, unbearable flirt?” 

Jake laughs. “That’s the one.”

“Yes.”

“And what did you say?”

You smirk, “Told him it was a purity ring.”

“Darlin’,” he groans, “I have a reputation to maintain.”

divider credit: @cursed-carmine

[ceramini]

✦ STRONG ENOUGH TO RUIN YOU

pairing 𐐪𐑂 gym instructor!sunghoon x afab!reader

word count 𐐪𐑂 approximately 1.2k words (dw im working on making my fics longer)

genre 𐐪𐑂 smut, slow burn, instructor/client tension, fluff, dom!sunghoon, MDNI 18+

synopsis ───── you sign up for personal training thinking it’ll be a harmless way to finally stay consistent. you didn’t expect sunghoon, your cocky, too-pretty, too-hands-on gym instructor who makes you forget how to breathe mid-stretch. what starts with harmless corrections and tension-filled check-ins quickly unravels into something you can’t control. or hide.

nini’s note 🗒️ this is like INCREDIBLY over due (in terms of posting for sunghoon despite him being my wrecker..), but I just saw those photos of sunghoon in the gym and my mind is running. im actually foaming at the mouth he is so fine and his arms are like so big I want him to choke me hard im not even lying also i like how all the enha writers are just going feral abt those pics, I’ve seen like 3 of these already 😭😭.. remember 2 enjoy responsibly + comments, likes & reblogs are very much appreciated <33

𓋜 if want to read something else, check out the ꕀ LIBRARY

You weren’t even supposed to pick him.

There were three trainers available when you signed up. All perfectly qualified, all recommended. You picked the one who didn’t have 40k followers on Instagram. The one who wasn’t always in the mirror with his shirt off. The one who didn’t look like a boyband idol who accidentally wandered into a squat rack.

So why the hell were you stuck with Park Sunghoon?

“Looks like you’re with me now,” he’d said that first day, smiling just a little too knowingly. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

You knew what that meant.

What you didn’t expect was how good he’d be at his job.

Firm, focused, never distracted, even when your breathing stuttered, even when his palm slid to your lower back and your brain short-circuited. He’d press your shoulders down, tap your thighs, adjust your grip with long, capable fingers. Always murmuring soft corrections like:

“Back straight, baby.”

“Stay with me.”

“Just like that. You’re getting better.”

He always said your name like it tasted sweet.

And now here you were, halfway through week five, sitting on the gym floor with your thighs trembling, heart in your throat, and his hand still on your waist.

“Need help stretching it out?” he says, voice low.

You should say no.

Instead, you nod.

You’re on your back. Hips tilted. One leg bent.

Sunghoon is kneeling beside you, gently moving your leg across your body as he leans over.

“Relax,” he murmurs, fingers firm on your outer thigh. “Let me guide you.”

You swear his voice gets lower every time he touches you. A slow, patient growl. You squeeze your eyes shut as the stretch deepens.

“Good girl,” he says suddenly. “Just breathe.”

Oh fuck.

You don’t know what part of your body clenches first.

“You always tense up when I say that,” he muses, amused.

You peek one eye open. He’s grinning. Smirking.

“I do not.”

“You do,” he says, stroking up your leg with his thumb. “But it’s okay. It’s cute.”

You shove his shoulder weakly. He doesn’t move an inch. You feel his grip tighten, just slightly.

“You know,” he says softly, “you’ve been a real good client. You always listen. Always do what I tell you.”

There’s a pause.

“Would you keep listening if I told you to spread your legs for me?”

Silence. Then—

You do.

Without a word. Breath shaking. Core throbbing.

Sunghoon’s eyes darken.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I thought so.”

You’re up against the mirror.

His fingers are inside you.

Your cheek is pressed to the glass, the fog of your breath smudging your reflection. His body is flush behind you, strong, firm, solid, guiding your hips back into his hand, where he’s curling his fingers in slow, purposeful strokes.

“See how pretty you look?” he whispers, biting your ear. “Can you see how wet you are?”

You whimper. He speeds up.

You try to close your legs but he clicks his tongue.

“Ah—uh uh. Don’t run. Let me stretch you, baby.”

He spreads his fingers. You gasp.

“Already so tight,” he groans. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock. You gonna take me like a good girl?”

You nod frantically.

“You want me that bad?”

“Sunghoon, please—”

He leans forward, lips against your jaw.

“Beg.”

You’re already halfway gone. Voice cracked. Mind empty.

“Please fuck me. Please—need it so bad—I’ll be good—”

You cry out as his palm lands against your ass, sharp and quick.

He groans behind you.

“Then get on the bench.”

The workout bench is cold on your skin.

You’re bent over it now, cheek pressed to the padding, thighs parted the way he told you. Your leggings are halfway down, soaked through, your body still trembling from his fingers.

Sunghoon stands behind you, breathing heavy, a flush spreading down his chest, biceps flexing as he strokes himself, slow and hard.

“God, look at this fucking ass,” he growls, palming the curve of your hip. “You really let me do this here?”

You nod, whimpering. “Wanted you— wanted this—”

He leans over, lips brushing your shoulder. “You’ve been teasing me for weeks. Every time you show up in those tiny shorts, acting shy—”

His cock presses between your folds and you gasp, arching.

He slides it through your slick, groaning.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. All for me?”

You can barely answer. He slaps your ass again— not hard, just enough to make you flinch.

“Answer me, baby.”

“All—fuck—all for you, Hoon.”

You don’t even recognize your own voice. It’s high, messy. You’re already unraveling, and he hasn’t even put it in yet.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Now take it.”

He sinks in slowly.

Not teasing, not fast, just… deep.

You both moan when he bottoms out. One hand grips your hip, the other slides under your stomach to press against your clit.

“You’re so tight,” he says against your spine, voice wrecked. “Fucking perfect.”

You cry out as he starts moving, steady thrusts, grinding into that spot that makes your knees buckle. His cock fills you completely, like it was made for you, and his abs brush your back every time he presses forward.

“Shit, you’re taking me so good—” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Let me ruin you, baby. Let me make you forget your own name.”

You do.

You can’t say anything but his name. Over and over again.

“Hoon—Hoon, please—please—”

He grabs your hair, pulling you back so you see your fucked-out reflection in the mirror.

“Look,” he growls. “That’s what I do to you. That’s what you look like when I fuck you dumb.”

You’re already crying a little, not from pain, but from the overwhelm. He notices, slows down just slightly.

“You okay?”

You nod frantically. “More—please don’t stop—need you—”

He wipes your tears with a shaky hand, eyes dark.

“Yeah? You want me to break you, baby?”

You say yes so fast he laughs, but it’s breathless, desperate, like he’s just as gone.

“Say it again.”

“Break me, Sunghoon.”

He grabs your wrists, pins them behind your back, and lets go.

You’re cock drunk by the time he starts whispering praise.

“Taking me so good—god, you were made for this.”

“Such a perfect little body—fuck, I’ve been dreaming of this.”

“Gonna cum for me? Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart.”

You’re gone. You can’t stop shaking.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

You do, hard. Loud. Full-body, leg-shaking, soul-leaving climax. You scream his name, you cry, your body locks up around his cock like it never wants to let go.

Sunghoon loses it.

“Fuck—fuckfuck—gonna fill you up, baby—shit—”

He buries himself to the hilt and cums hard, hips jerking, hands gripping you so tight you’ll probably bruise. You can feel him twitching inside you, groaning against your shoulder, dropping messy kisses onto your back as he rides out the wave.

He pulls out slow, hands still gentle, watching your cunt drip with his cum.

“Shit,” he says softly. “That was—fuck.”

You just lay there, legs spread, brain fried.

Sunghoon grabs a towel, wipes you clean, helps you sit up. He kisses your temple, holds your face in both hands.

“Was that okay?” he asks, genuinely.

You nod, tears still drying on your cheeks.

He kisses you again, soft this time. No smirk. No games.

“I’ll take care of you, okay?” he murmurs. “Even if this doesn’t mean anything. Even if it’s just once.”

You blink. “You think I’d let you hit raw and not mean it?”

He laughs, then kisses you again, and this one feels like a promise.

TAGLIST ───── @gxwesn @gyarumindd @somuchdard @ssanhwatto @jinxedly @seokjinthescientist @hoonprksung @eunvyue <3 you can join my taglist through this doc! —> here

[lov3notts]

okay be ready for some spamming, mora 😈so many many congrats on 1k !!! you deserve this and soooooo many more ahh.

now starting with cupid's arrow so i'm gonna go with mattheo riddle + "you stayed up…all night…for them. oh dude you're in love." from prompt 9 (12th prompt)

tysm i love youu ‹𝟹

1k celebration!!!; navigation

IM SO HAPPY WITH THIS ONEEE!!

The common room was quiet, the fireplace glowing low and golden. Most of the castle was asleep—should be asleep—but Mattheo hadn’t moved from the same worn armchair in nearly six hours.

His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, flicked toward the door again.

Still no sign of you.

Mattheo sat alone on the worn green sofa, elbow propped on the armrest, bouncing his knee. The fire cracked softly. His eyes, however, were locked on the door.

He wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore.

It was late. You’d gone out — a date, of all things. Some Ravenclaw boy with too-perfect posture and too-nice manners who definitely didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, in Mattheo’s very humble opinion.

Still, he didn’t ask questions when you told him you were going. Just shrugged and said, “Have fun.”

Like it didn’t twist something awful in his gut.

He hadn’t moved from the common room since.

He muttered something under his breath, fingers raking through his curls in frustration. He told himself he wasn’t worried, just… annoyed. Annoyed that you hadn’t sent an owl or a note or anything.

He wasn’t checking the time. That was stupid. He wasn’t keeping track of how late it had gotten.

He was just waiting. That was all. Waiting in the dark. For you.

The sound of steps broke his trance.

He looked up—fast, hopeful, like his spine reacted before his brain could pretend not to care. But to his disappointment it wasn’t you- it was theodore

“You’re joking,” Theo mumbled, stepping off the last stair. “You’re still here?”

Mattheo looked away. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Theo squinted. “Didn’t you say you were gonna crash right after dinner?”

Mattheo shrugged. “Changed my mind.”

“Right.” Theo crossed the room, grabbed a bottle of water from the low table, and flopped into the armchair across from him. He cracked the bottle open, took a sip, then narrowed his eyes.

Theo raised an eyebrow, following his gaze to the door. A beat. Then he grinned.

“Oh, no way.”

Mattheo blinked slowly. “Shut up.”

“You’re waiting for her.”

“I’m not.”

Theo leaned forward, elbow on his knee, watching him. “You do realise it’s two in the morning and you’ve been sitting there doing nothing except watch the door like a sad little puppy.”

Mattheo finally turned his head, but only to glare. “Piss off.”

Theo smirked. “Nah, see, I would — if this weren’t absolutely pathetic.”

Mattheo shot him a look. “You done?”

Theo took another slow sip of water, grin widened like a cat with cream. “You stayed up… all night… for her.”

Mattheo glared, but didn’t argue.

Theo laughed. “Oh dude, you’re in love.”

“I am not in love” Mattheo snapped, just a bit too fast.

“You’re scowling at a door, Mattheo.”

Mattheo looked away.

“It’s because of that date, isn’t it?”

“Drop it.”

“No, no, this is good. Jealousy suits you. Makes your hair extra floofy.” Theo leaned forward, eyes glinting. “You’re picturing her smiling at someone else. Laughing at someone else’s dumb jokes. Maybe even kissing—”

“Shut up, Theo.”

Theo raised his hands in surrender, but the smugness on his face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying… for someone who’s always so damn cool, you sure look like a kicked puppy right now.”

Mattheo didn’t respond. Just rubbed a hand over his face.

Theo sat back in his chair, a little quieter now. “You’re not just into her,” he said. “You care about her. Enough to sit here until your spine turns to dust waiting for them to come back. That’s not some random crush. That’s... it.”

Mattheo swallowed, something flickering in his expression. “She don’t feel the same.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Says who?”

“I don’t know. She’s never said anything.”

“Neither have you.”

Mattheo didn’t answer.

Theo leaned forward again, more serious this time. “Look, I’m not one for romantic declarations or any of that Gryffindor-level nonsense. But you should probably stop lying to yourself before it eats you alive.”

Mattheo stayed still. Quiet. But his eyes had softened — not scared, not stubborn — just… exposed.

“She make me feel normal,” he said quietly, surprising even himself. “Like… not a Riddle. Just me.”

Theo blinked. That was more honesty than he was used to from his best friend.

“Then maybe you should tell her.”

Mattheo shook his head. “It’s easier like this.”

Theo smirked. “Yeah? How’s that working out for you?”

Mattheo didn’t reply.

Then—

The door creaked open.

You stepped inside, cheeks pink from the cold, scarf loose around your neck, and a dreamy, faraway look in your eyes. You didn’t see them at first, too busy unwinding your scarf and brushing snowflakes from your shoulders.

Mattheo straightened instantly, trying and failing to look casual. Theo noticed and nearly burst into laughter.

You finally looked up and paused. “Oh hey, i didn’t know anyone would still be awake.”

Theo smirked. “Some of us couldn’t sleep.”

Mattheo shot him a warning glare.

You smiled, a little shy. “I didn’t think I’d be that long…”

Mattheo stood slowly. “Was it good?” he asked, and it came out rougher than he intended.

You blinked. “What?”

“The date.”

Your eyes widened, just slightly. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I guess.”

Theo chimed in, “Guess?”

You gave him a look. “He was nice. Polite. Smart.”

Mattheo’s jaw twitched.

Theo shot Mattheo a look, full of fake admiration. “What a guy. Truly. You hearing this, Matty? Wow Someone get that boy a medal. Don’t you want to congratulate him personally?”

Mattheo ignored him. “Are you seeing him again?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

Something in Mattheo’s eyes flickered. “Right.”

There was an awkward pause.

You shifted on your feet. “Anyway, I’m exhausted. Gonna head to bed—” You hesitated. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

Mattheo looked at you then, really looked, and quietly said, “I know.”

You gave a small smile. “Night, boys.”

As you walked past, Theo gave a long, dramatic sigh. Then under his breath—but just loud enough—he muttered:

“You’re so in love.”

Mattheo didn’t deny it.

But when he sat back down, still staring at the spot you’d stood, he felt it settle in his chest like thunder in a bottle.

Because he was.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[rueclfer]

FOR THE JOB EVENT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BOUNCER AIZAWA WITH ABSOLUTE MENACE READER who definitely should be banned by now but aizawa cannot help how much fun he has seeing you come back…. Oh and mister bouncer aizawa rides a motorcycle EHEHEHEHEHEH

for the sake of this event i rlly could not make this as long as i wanted im sssooorrrrryyyyyy but ON GOD i will be making a part 2 after i finish all these submissions. bc i just. MEOW? -> aizawa putting the bike helmet on you.... taking you back to his apartment bc its closer.... helping u sober up..... please. PLEASE.

bouncer!aizawa // job fair

event m.list

you’re late. 

you’re late and rumi is in the front seat of your taxi with her torso turned all the way around to face you to make sure you know exactly what you had cost your friend group tonight.

“i hope you got enough cash in that tiny purse of yours to get our cover charges,” she huffs, an air of her boozy breath brushing past you in the middle seat.

you could only roll your eyes in response. you’d rather spend twenty dollars to get through the doors than seventy-five on drinks tonight. if that meant you’d have to spend the whole night a step behind black-out, then you’d just have to find a way to burn off some of the alcohol.

“if man-bun is working the front tonight, we’ll be fine,” keigo quips from your left.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you cock an eyebrow, your words almost slurring in an incoherent run.

“you know what i mean,” he scoffs out a laugh, “you guys know who i’m talking ‘bout?”

“i think we all know mister five-o’clock-shadow,” fuyumi chuckles from your right.

“stop it,” you whine, “no ganging up on me when i’m two sniffs of alcohol away from blacking out.”

“and whose fault is that?” rumi sings, “you’re the one who wanted to pre game so hard.”

you lean back into the middle seat with a huff. it wasn’t your fault that rumi decided at the last minute that you had to go out this friday instead of your usual saturdays. if you’re anything, you’re a supportive friend.

i had a shitty day at work and i need to get drunk. now.

and yet, somehow it felt like you were the only one who had been working on the handle of vodka passed around the four of you.

you don’t remember stumbling out of the uber until the clack of your boots hitting the pavement. now that you were standing upright, the alcohol had moved its way to your head.

“you okay?” rumi asks, placing a hand on your elbow.

“duh.” you shake off the nauseating feeling in your stomach.

once your group makes its way around the corner, shouta nearly misses you. this club rarely charges a cover fee on friday nights, so he lets hizashi check your ids without a second glance.

“what, you're not gonna check my bag?”

with a cigarette resting in between his lips, his attention turns to you with furrowed brows and a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“just when i thought i was going to have a good night," he chuckles a breath of smoke out, "the fuck are you doing here?"

you gesture for the others to go on once your eyes meet with theirs for you to follow them into the crowd of people filtered at the entrance 

go ahead. i’ll catch up later, you silently say with a nod.

rumi wiggles her brows at you as the others chuckle to themselves, pushing their way through the masses.

“gonna go inside and read a book,” you roll your eyes, “what does it look like i’m doing here?”

“you’re drunk.” he ashes off the cigarette on the wall behind him. “which means you’re trouble. which means more work for me. isn’t that right?”

“it’s a friday night, shouta, i’m on angel hours.” you smile up at him, "promise."

‘you know, i don’t usually work fridays. how lucky am i?” there was a lace of playful sarcasm in his tone, “because i’m assuming i won’t be seeing you tomorrow night.”

you hold your hand up to your chest, faking hurt, “you don’t think i can rally two nights in a row? who do you think i am?”

shouta leans down towards you, pushing the stray strands of hair behind the shell of your ear.

“i think your night’s gonna end early if you don’t go inside and grab a cup of water from oboro right now.”

"you have no faith in me," you pout.

he places a hand at the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and out of the way from the line of people entering the bar.

"prove me wrong then." he shrugs, "behave for one night."

shouta gives you a daring look. he knows how you are- it’ll be one accidental bump from the wrong person for you to get in their face or the right song for you to climb on top of the bar. you’re already swaying under his light touch hovering over the bare skin of your lower back. 

“well, shou,” you lean in, almost grazing his nose with your own, “you know i love being right.”

[97linelover]

Coming back to you - Jeon Jungkook

summary: you loved him while he was away, you loved him from far away. And now hes finally back.

Being in a secret relationship with Jungkook as his Make up Artist is not that easy, especially when you´re just waiting for his return.

pairing: idol jungkook x reader

genre: love, return from the military, cute, they´re just so in love

author's note: how can the time already be over? I´m so happy. I wrote this, this morning so don´t be to harsh on me :D

The BigHit building buzzed with quiet excitement, a kind of electricity in the air that only came when something huge was about to happen. Tomorrow wasn’t just another day—it was the day.

After what felt like an eternity, Jungkook and Jimin were finally being discharged from the military.

And you? You had the most important job of all.

Not only had you been BTS’s trusted makeup artist for the past few years—working with them through albums, concerts, and chaotic shoots—but you were also Jungkook’s secret.

Your secret relationship with him had started quietly, somewhere between powder brushes and soft eye contact in mirror reflections. Late-night texts turned into long walks. And before you knew it, he was yours, and you were his.

But today, there was no time to be sentimental.

“Y/N, do you have the list?” Namjoon called out from across the practice room, balancing a clipboard in one hand and holding a streamer in the other.

“Yeah, I’ve got it!” you answered, double-checking your notes. “And I picked up the cake this morning from that bakery Jungkook loves. Banana-flavored, right?”

Hoseok grinned, walking past with a handful of balloons. “You’re seriously amazing. He’s going to cry.”

“I hope not,” you laughed. “His contact lenses won’t survive that.”

Taehyung entered the room next, lugging a giant cardboard box full of decorations. “I got the banner! And the photo wall materials. Should we do it next to the window, or—?”

“Let’s set it up where the lighting’s better,” you said, already heading to help him. “You know how picky Jimin is about pictures.”

As the others moved around you, hanging garlands and preparing the playlist, you quietly checked off tasks in your head.

✅ Cake

✅ Drinks

✅ Decorations

✅ Playlist

✅ Gifts

Oh—and Jimin’s bag. You had picked it up for him, along with his uniform accessories. You made sure everything was perfectly folded, tucked into a duffel by the door, ready for tomorrow morning.

You paused, brushing a bit of glitter off your sleeve, glancing toward the small gift you hadn’t dared show the others. A small silver bracelet with Jungkook’s enlistment date engraved on it… and yours, next to his, in smaller print. You’d worn it every day since he left. Tomorrow, you’d finally give it to him.

You exhaled slowly, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

It didn’t feel real yet. But tomorrow, he’d walk through that door. The wait would finally be over.

And no one—not even the fans—knew the truth behind your excitement.

Tomorrow, the world would see BTS’s Golden Maknae return.

But only you would see the man you loved come home.

The HYBE building had never felt like this before.

There was always movement—staff hurrying, stylists adjusting lighting, choreographers shouting counts from practice rooms—but today was different. Today, it felt like a storm was brewing.

The Golden Maknae and the angel-voiced Park Jimin were coming home.

And you? You were right in the eye of the storm.

“Y/N, where are the black ribbons? They were in Box B!” someone shouted behind you.

“Box B is in Studio 3!” you called back, clutching two cups of coffee, a checklist, and a roll of tape in your other hand.

You hadn’t slept much last night. Honestly, you hadn’t really slept well in months.

Because even though Jimin was like a little brother to you, this wasn’t just about BTS returning to full strength.

It was him.

Jungkook.

You hadn’t seen him in person for months. Sure, you exchanged the occasional encrypted text. . A grainy selfie with his buzzed hair and sleepy eyes.

But nothing beat standing in front of him, close enough to hear the way he said your name like it meant more than just three letters.

Only the members knew. RM had found out first—he always did—and eventually, the others caught on. It had been unspoken between you all: protect this secret at all costs. Dating an idol as staff wasn’t just frowned upon. It was forbidden. A one-way ticket out the door.

But the moment Jungkook told you he was willing to wait, you knew you’d do the same.

And now… that wait was finally over.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s deep voice pulled you back. He was standing at the entrance of the practice room, holding up his phone. “They just arrived. They’re on their way here!”

A chorus of reactions erupted.

“Ten minutes?!”

“Did someone check the microphones?!”

“Where’s Jimin’s jacket?!”

You were already moving—handing over coffees, adjusting decorations, shoving Jungkook’s duffel bag just slightly to the left so it would be the first thing he saw. Your heart was racing in your chest, matching the rhythm of footsteps echoing through the building.

Only minutes now.

You felt Seokjin gently nudge your shoulder as he passed. “You okay?” he asked, voice low, careful.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will be. When I see him.”

Hoseok smiled knowingly. “You’re glowing. He’s going to lose his mind.”

Suddenly, the building’s atmosphere shifted.

The elevator dinged.

Silence fell like a heavy blanket.

And then: footsteps.

You stepped back, breath held, heart hammering, eyes locked on the hallway outside the studio.

The door opened.

Jimin entered first, smiling wide, dressed in his military uniform, looking tired but happy. He opened his arms, greeting everyone like the prince he was.

And then came him.

Jungkook.

Hair slightly longer now, military cap in hand, uniform perfect. His eyes scanned the room—and when they landed on you, the world stopped.

For a split second, the chaos faded. The balloons, the cake, the flash of cameras, the staff whispering—all of it disappeared.

You didn’t speak.

You didn’t have to.

His eyes softened, just a little. The corner of his mouth lifted. That tiny look only you ever saw.

He was home.

His scent hit you before anything else. That warm, clean smell mixed with something distinctly him—even after such a long time.

Jungkook made his way through the room, hugging each staff member, bowing deeply, thanking them one after one. His smile was beaming, but his eyes were tired.

You stood near the back, pretending to adjust a mic cable that absolutely didn’t need adjusting.

Don’t shake. Just breathe. Don’t look like a love-struck idiot.

He was two hugs away.

Then one.

And then—

“Y/N,” he said softly, and you turned just in time to see his arms open.

There was no time to think.

You stepped forward, and he pulled you in for a quick hug—shorter than the others, less obvious—but his hand lingered just a second longer on your lower back. His breath ghosted near your ear as he whispered, too quiet for anyone else to hear:

“I missed you.”

Your heart nearly stopped, but you smiled politely, nodded, and stepped back, eyes lowered. “Welcome back,” you said quietly, your voice way too calm for the storm inside you.

He gave nothing away, not even in his expression. Golden Maknae mode fully activated.

You tried to focus as Jimin waved everyone toward Studio A, where the livestream was set to begin in fifteen minutes.

“Let’s go!” Namjoon called. “We’ll run audio while they change jackets.”

Everyone moved in sync.

You stayed close, like always, clipboard in hand, headset in place, watching them through the control booth window as they sat down, fixing their collars and joking about how weird it felt to be out.

And Jungkook—he kept glancing at the glass. At you.

You stood behind the main camera now, pretending to go over notes with the lighting team.

But you weren’t fooling anyone—especially not yourself.

Your whole body buzzed. You were giddy, jittery, anxious, overwhelmed.

He’s here. He’s actually here.

The way he had looked at you—the softness, the heat, the unspoken history between you—none of it had faded. It was all still there, hiding in his glances, in the calm stillness of how he carried himself.

And god, you wanted to run to him. Just for five minutes. Just to say everything you weren’t allowed to say.

But now?

Now, he was BTS’s Jungkook again. And you were just the staff.

So, you did what you always did: you kept working.

Even if your fingers shook.

Even if your cheeks burned.

Even if your heart was screaming his name.

The studio lights were warm and bright, casting that perfect glow on Jimin and Jungkook as the livestream began.

They looked… different. Grown. Sharper. Stronger.

But their laughter was still the same—soft, contagious, filled with inside jokes and memories you could only imagine from the past 18 months.

Jimin leaned forward, eyes sparkling as he teased Jungkook about almost crying during their farewell ceremony.

“Ya! I didn’t cry,” Jungkook argued, his voice deep, playful. “It was allergies.”

“Sure it was,” Jimin smirked, nudging him. “Military dust, right?”

The staff chuckled behind the cameras. You stood to the side, arms crossed tightly over your chest, pretending to check your phone. But really, you were just watching him.

Every smile.

Every gesture.

Every time his tongue peeked out as he laughed, or when he tucked his hair behind his ear—things you used to see up close, in quiet hotel rooms and stolen moments.

It was torture and comfort all at once.

And you didn’t even notice you were staring until someone cleared their throat beside you.

Namjoon.

He didn’t say anything—just raised his brows with a knowing smirk. His arms were crossed too, and his eyes flicked between you and Jungkook before returning to you.

You blinked, flustered. “What?”

Namjoon leaned a little closer, lowering his voice so no one else would hear. “Your face is giving you away.”

You felt your cheeks heat instantly. “I’m just—monitoring. You know. Makeup, lighting…”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Very professional.”

You elbowed him gently, half-laughing, half-dying inside. “Shut up.”

Namjoon smiled wider but backed off with a small shrug, as if to say, I won’t tell… this time.

You needed to breathe.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, already stepping away. “Bathroom.”

Namjoon didn’t stop you—he just nodded knowingly as you slipped out of the room, your heart pounding in your ears.

Once in the hallway, you leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes.

You had handled months of separation. You had handled secrets and silence and waiting.

But handling him, in the same building again, so close and yet so untouchable?

That was something else entirely.

The hallway was quiet.

Too quiet compared to the buzz of the studio. Your heart was still racing, your skin still warm from the way Namjoon had looked at you like he knew. Like they all knew. Like he was just waiting for you to break.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out here. A few minutes? Maybe more. The voices and laughter from the livestream had faded behind closed doors, and your own thoughts had taken over.

He’s here.

He’s safe.

He’s right there.

And yet—you couldn’t touch him.

Not really. Not yet.

You exhaled slowly, about to head back inside when—

Footsteps.

Heavy boots, confident steps. You knew them instantly.

You didn’t have to look to know it was him.

Jungkook.

The moment your eyes met, the air shifted. The hallway suddenly felt too small. Too quiet. Too full.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you like he was making sure you were real. His uniform jacket hung open now, and his hair was slightly tousled from pulling off his mic.

And then—he smiled.

Not the public smile. Not the one from the livestream.

This one was just for you.

“You ran away,” he said softly, voice rough from laughter and emotion.

You smiled back, heart thudding so hard it hurt. “Maybe.”

He took a few steps closer, then stopped—checking the hallway quickly, like old habits kicking in. Still cautious, still hiding.

But when he was sure no one was around, he reached for you.

You didn’t hesitate.

You crossed the last step between you and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as he held you tight—so tight like he was afraid to let go.

God, he felt solid. Warm. Real. Like every second of waiting had finally led here.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered against his shirt, your voice barely holding steady.

His hand slid up your back, resting gently at the nape of your neck. “I thought about you every damn day,” he said, low and rough. “Every day, Y/N.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes searched yours, and you knew—he wanted to kiss you.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

Not here.

So instead, he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m home now,” he breathed. “We made it.”

You nodded, tears pricking behind your eyes. “Yeah. We did.”

And in that quiet, stolen moment—hidden between the walls of the company that wouldn’t approve of any of this—you finally breathed again.

Together.

The livestream had ended with cheers and laughter. Staff clapped, cameras powered down, and the room buzzed with post-shoot energy.

Jungkook and Jimin were surrounded by staff, all offering congratulations, handshakes, pats on the back. They took it all with grace, but their eyes were tired—especially Jungkook’s.

You stood off to the side again, pretending to review the footage on a monitor while your heart pulled in two different directions.

He was right there.

But you couldn’t go with him.

“Let’s go eat!” Taehyung called suddenly, grinning and throwing an arm around Jimin. “Gopchang and soju, my treat!”

“Ya, your treat?” Seokjin scoffed. “We’ll be waiting until next payday.”

Jimin laughed, tossing his cap onto a table. “I’m in. I want fried chicken and kimchi stew.”

Namjoon turned to Jungkook. “You coming?”

Jungkook looked up, glancing instinctively in your direction.

He didn’t say anything out loud. He didn’t have to.

The way his eyes softened, the tiniest flicker of disappointment flashing behind his expression—it was enough.

You gave him a small smile, one you hoped said I’m okay. Don’t worry.

Then you turned to the others, keeping your voice light.

“I’ll stay behind and help with cleanup. You guys go ahead.”

Jungkook opened his mouth like he wanted to say something. Maybe to argue. Maybe to ask you to come anyway. But he didn’t.

He just nodded slowly and picked up his jacket.

That moment burned a little. You wanted to go. God, you wanted to sit beside him at the table, hear him laugh, feel his knee brush yours under the table like before. But that wasn’t your place. Not publicly.

Then—

“Wait,” Jimin said, suddenly pausing at the doorway. He turned to Jungkook, then to you, then back to the group. “You all go. Jungkook and I will meet you later.”

Taehyung blinked. “Huh? Why?”

Jimin just shrugged with a sly little smile. “I forgot my bag. And I need to stop by Y/N’s place to grab some stuff.”

He looked at you. “You’re going home, right?”

You caught the look in his eyes. The message behind the casual tone.

He was giving you a way out. A cover.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m heading back now.”

“Perfect,” Jimin said, already nudging Jungkook. “We’ll meet at her place first. I’ll bring chicken. And beer.”

There was a moment of pause before Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “You two are suspicious.”

“We’re tired,” Jimin said dramatically, already ushering Jungkook away. “Let us rest first. Then we party.”

Namjoon laughed. “Fine, fine. But don’t take too long. And don’t fall asleep!”

As the others disappeared down the hallway, you and Jungkook fell into step behind Jimin.

Your fingers brushed for just a second.

And for the first time in forever, you didn’t have to pull away

Jimin was true to his word.

He showed up at your apartment 30 minutes later, arms full of takeout bags and a six-pack of cold beer. Jungkook trailed behind him, freshly showered, in a hoodie and sweats—but he may as well have walked in wearing a crown for how your heart reacted.

The apartment filled with warmth and laughter. You ate on the floor around your coffee table, beer cans opening one by one as Jimin told story after story from their time in the military.

Jungkook didn’t say much—he was too busy watching you. Every glance. Every smile. Every time you laughed a little too loud at Jimin’s jokes, his eyes flicked over to you like he was memorizing it.

And you felt it too.

That magnetic pull between you. The silent countdown behind every look. The we’re not alone yet tension curling in your stomach.

Jimin leaned back eventually, yawning loudly. “Alright,” he groaned, stretching. “My social battery’s gone. I’m heading out before I pass out on your floor.”

“You sure?” you asked, even though your heart was racing.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Jimin said with a knowing look. “You two probably need some… catching up time.”

Jungkook threw a pillow at him, laughing. “Hyung!”

Jimin dodged it, grinning as he grabbed his jacket. “Just lock the door behind me. And don’t be loud.” He winked. “Your neighbors probably like their sleep.”

You flushed. Jungkook groaned.

And then the door clicked shut.

Silence.

Just you and him.

The second the lock slid into place, you turned—and Jungkook was already there, closing the distance between you in two long strides. His hands were on your waist, pulling you in, and then—

You kissed him.

Hard. Desperate. Months of distance crashing into one kiss that felt like breathing again after being underwater too long.

He groaned against your mouth, his hands slipping under your shirt, warm and searching. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, and he pressed you back until your spine hit the wall.

“I thought I’d go insane without you,” he murmured, lips brushing against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

“You did,” you whispered back, tugging his hoodie off, breathless. “We both did.”

His mouth was on yours again in a second, hungrier now, like he couldn’t get enough. And you didn’t care. Not about the job. Not about the rules. Not about tomorrow.

Just this.

Just him.

Home.

The moment your back hit the wall, it was like a dam broke.

All those months apart — every aching night, every word unsaid, every kiss only imagined — crashed down in the space between heartbeats. Jungkook kissed you like he was starved, like he couldn’t decide where to touch first because he wanted all of you at once.

His hands were everywhere — your waist, your back, the slope of your neck. You pulled him closer, needing him closer, clinging to him like the last thread of something sacred.

“Bedroom,” you breathed between kisses.

He nodded once, jaw clenched, eyes dark with need.

You barely made it.

Clothes disappeared in a rush — hoodie over his head, your shirt peeled off, jeans undone with fumbling hands and impatient mouths. He paused only once, looking down at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

“God,” he whispered, fingers brushing over your bare skin like he was afraid you’d vanish. “You’re real. You’re here.”

You nodded, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your throat. “I waited for you.”

“I know.” His voice cracked, just a little. “I’ll make up for it.”

And he did.

Jungkook took his time — worshipped every inch of you like a man trying to memorize a dream. His mouth left a trail of fire down your neck, your chest, the dip of your waist. He moved like he knew your body — where to touch, where to kiss, how to pull that soft gasp from your lips that drove him crazy.

His skin was warm against yours, hard muscle meeting soft curves, and every second was filled with whispered confessions between tangled sheets:

“I missed this.”

“I missed you.”

“You’re mine.”

“You always have been.”

And when he finally sank into you, it wasn’t just physical — it was everything. A reunion. A release. A promise.

Your bodies moved in sync, slow at first, deep, unhurried. Like time had stopped just for you two. Like the whole world had faded except this one room, this one night, this one love.

“Say my name,” he murmured against your skin, breath hot and ragged.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Please—don’t stop.”

“Never,” he growled, moving faster now, lips capturing yours again. “I’m not letting you go again. Not now. Not ever.”

And when you both finally shattered — together, breathless and trembling, your bodies slick with sweat and love and months of longing — he held you.

Tight. Close. Like he still didn’t fully believe it was real.

And in that silence after, the only sound was his heartbeat beneath your ear, fast and steady.

“Mine,” he whispered again, kissing your temple. “All mine.”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t need to

You woke to warmth.

Not just the kind that came from sunlight pouring through the thin curtains — but the kind that came from him. Skin against skin, tangled limbs beneath your blanket, the slow, steady rhythm of his breath against the back of your neck.

Jungkook.

His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, bare chest pressed to your back, his leg hooked lazily over yours. You could feel the slight rise and fall of his body, his heart beating softly behind you.

For a moment, you just lay there. Eyes closed, lips parted in a sleepy smile, memorizing the feeling of his body against yours again. It was quiet. Still. Like the world had pressed pause.

And then you felt him shift — just slightly — and his lips brushed the top of your shoulder.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, voice low and raspy from sleep.

“Mmm,” you hummed, turning your face toward him. “Barely.”

He smiled into your skin, nosing gently against your neck. “Good. I didn’t want to wake up alone.”

You rolled over slowly to face him. His hair was a mess, falling into his eyes. His face was soft, eyes still heavy with sleep. And god, he looked so good like this — vulnerable, real, yours.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” you said softly, brushing your fingers along his jaw.

He caught your hand and kissed your knuckles. “I’ve never slept so well in my life.”

You laughed a little, pulling the blanket higher. “Probably because you’re not being yelled at by a sergeant anymore.”

“True,” he said, grinning. “Also helps that I’ve got the best pillow now.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours.”

The words hit you straight in the chest.

And then he leaned in and kissed you — slow, sleepy, warm — the kind of kiss that tasted like comfort and home and everything you’d missed. His fingers brushed along your thigh, but there was no urgency now, no rush.

Just closeness.

You pulled back, barely, your noses still touching. “Do we have to get up?”

“Eventually,” he said. “But not yet.”

You nestled back into his chest, eyes fluttering shut again. “Okay. Just a few more minutes.”

He tightened his arms around you, voice barely audible as he kissed your hair. “Take all the time you want, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

So our babys are nearly 7 again, it´s unreal how fast the time had passed.

[jarofstyles]

okay so idk how to articulate it but the trope is crime boss/mafia harry x nurse y/n and the emotions would be guilt, passion and angst. Y/n somehow got mixed up in Harry’s world and now he feels bad for getting her involved unintentionally

YES! Give it to me right now (I say as I am the one who has to write it) I loved writing this actually. Perhaps future full length! We will see

Check out our Patreon!

Warnings- injury, violence, all the organized crime stuff, angsty, ‘I’ll kill anyone who touches you’, mention of murder, blood, guns, etc

Harry had never felt more sick over seeing an injury in his life.

He’d seen brain matter splattered against walls from bullets he’d shot, fingers he’d cut off of people himself- an ear once-, he’d stabbed someone and twisted the knife, or gone for the throat with the spray of blood. None of them had enraged him more than the one he was looking at.

“And which one of you dumb fucks let her out of your sight?” He asked, level but angry. Cold. Dangerous. Killing calm, for the people who knew him. Seeing the girl he’d recruited to help with injuries sitting in the back of one of his warehouses, pressure applied to her arm with gauze, he could barely look at her without feeling that beginning of a spiral. He should have known better than to bring her anywhere close to this, but he was greedy. Selfish. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind.

Bringing her into the fold was meant to be all benefit. He’d have a nurse on call, and he’d be able to be close to her. It would make sense. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Is no one going to answer me?” Tilting his head, he looked around to try and read the room. See who looked the guiltiest.

“Harry-“ Y/N attempted, her sweet voice cutting through the evil running rampant through his brain. He didn’t deserve her in the slightest, he shouldn’t have any access to her at all, but he still couldn’t let her go.

“It’s okay.” He looked at her. “They’ll tell me. Because they know what will happen if they don’t.” It was a little unsettling, feeling bloodthirsty in this way. “I know who was supposed to be back here. My question is, how did anyone get far enough into this warehouse to get at her? How would they even know where her office was?”

Harry knew he hadn’t been subtle about his affections for the nurse, but he hadn’t expected a rat. Hadn’t ever fathomed that one of his own would leave a window for this. “Still no talkers?” He shook his head, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Fine.” It was a shame that he’d need to get rid of all of the team he’d left here. It would be a bitch to replace them. But no one speaking up meant there was loyalty to the rat, and he wasn’t going to deal with it. “Mitchell, Adam, Greg- escort the team that was here to the back. We’ll talk more later.”

He couldn’t let her see him like that. He had half a mind to put bullets between each one of their eyes in this current moment, but he had to settle for later. His concern was the girl sitting on the worn in couch in the back. Weakness showing be damned.

Trying to level himself out, he made his way towards her as he heard the team arguing with his main group to try and get out of it but he blocked it out for her. A single tear slipped down her cheek and he had temptation flaring in his stomach to go and do as he had impulsively chosen to do, but instead he leveled his temper to care for her.

“Hi, darling.” He mumbled, a sad strained smile gracing his lips. “Let’s clean you up, hm?” It was ironic and he knew that, being the one to guide her to the sink to rinse her own injury, but he wasn’t going to make her tend to her own wound. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

It was an understatement. He’d promised she would be safe, out of the crossfire- she should have been- but this was unforeseen circumstances. It did his control issues little good.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N mumbled, wincing a tiny bit as he patted the tender injury dry. It wouldn’t need stitches, he didn’t think- but he would think it would do her well to glue it. That’s what she had said about his injury when it had looked about the same. His stomach twisted at the look of it, but even more so that it had happened under his watch.

“You don’t have a singular fucking thing to apologize for.” He grunted, shaking his head at her. “You didn’t harm yourself. You were supposed to be protected. That’s my fault. I didn’t have as good of a handle on this group and that is an oversight that will be taken care of swiftly.”

“You’re going to kill them?” Her question was calm, though her face looked slightly green at the idea of it. She was too good for this world and Harry was too selfish to let her out of it. In fact, he wanted to pull her deeper in it. So deep that she was firmly wrapped up in him and unable to wriggle away so she wouldn’t get hurt again.

But he doubted she would take well to being akin to Rapunzel in her golden tower. His tower would be opulent, sure, but suffocating. Harry was known for being possessive over the things he held dear, and she had quickly become one.

He could lie to her and ease her mind, but that would do her no good. Harry lied to the feds, he lied to his enemies, he lied so well that people wouldn’t be able to tell even if they were highly trained- but he didn’t want to lie to her. “Yes.” The reply was simple as he caught her eyes. “And I won’t regret it, because they betrayed me- and you. They let you get hurt because they knew it would upset me.”

“But why?” She asked, voice small and confused. It stung a little bit, the little shards of skin left of his heart that hadn’t hardened bringing doused in alcohol. It made sense considering she didn’t know how much she took up of his mind, but still.

“Because I’ve grown quite fond of you, Y/N.” A wry smile hurt his lips as he squeezed ever so tenderly over her wound to apply pressure. “So they allowed you to get hurt.”

[thebubblesareevil]

Getting to know You

Dc x dp prompt soulmate body swap au

So you can use your character of choice but I’m gonna do Danny x Duke for this au for the sun and stars parallel.

So at any point in your life you will swap bodies with your soulmate for one hour.

When Danny turned 17 his entire world shifted and he was no longer listening to Mr Lancer drone on about the Scottish play, but instead he was sitting at an entirely different desk with a science test in front of him.

“Is everything all right Mr. Thomas?” Asked the annoyed teacher from the front of the class, several students snickering at him.

Danny glanced down at the name on the test and read the name Duke Thomas with a smile.

“Yes ma’am, just remembered something.” Danny answered, deciding to help his soulmate out a bit. He realized a few of his questions were wrong and quickly corrected them (this totally didn’t count as cheating, shut up Clockwork).

Danny did his best to make sure his swap wasn’t noticed for the next hour as he picked up little bits and pieces about his soulmate, certain his core would be purring if he was in his own body.

As he fought back a headache as he slowly figured out how to adjust the amount of light he was seeing, he couldn’t help but be in awe of his soulmate’s abilities, lamenting that he wouldn’t get to see what the stars looked like through Duke’s eyes as he watched the time tick by.

Luckily science seemed to be Duke’s last class of the day, and he apparently had friends? Family? That picked him up each day, though Danny hadn’t been expecting the limo.

He wouldn’t have even known the limo was for him if the Butler hadn’t approached him to ask if he was alright.

“Oh, sorry!” Danny said in a low whisper as he looked around “I’m actually not Duke right now,” Danny said with a sheepish grin. “I’m Danny, his soulmate. Don’t worry though, if my watch is right, you should have Duke back in about 5 minutes.”

The Butler gave him a fatherly smile, “Lovely to meet you Master Daniel, I hope I need not warn you of the consequences should any harm come to Master Duke.”

Danny gave the butler a huge grin, “not at all, do you mind hi in me his number though? I wanna call him after we swap back.”

Danny swiftly memorized the number right as the watch hit 1 hour and Danny braced himself for the reality shift that came with the swap…

A shift that never came…

Danny blinked down at the watch on Duke’s wrist, tapping it a bit before he looked at the butler with concern.

“I think…we may have a problem.”

—-

The first thing Danny did after he arrived at Wayne manor was take a nap. He had done his best to ignore the bone deep exhaustion he was feeling but after a the car ride with Alfred’s soothing choice of music…

Well, he learned it was best to heed Nocturne’s call a long time ago.

Besides, his soulmate clearly needed the sleep.

Meanwhile the Batfam are absolutely panicking over the fact that Danny and Duke didn’t swap back.

—-

Meanwhile…

“So…you are not Phantom?” Asked the… ‘Box ghost’ for the third time.

Duke groaned in annoyance before he felt something in his ribs start to vibrate…almost like a purr?

“No, I’m his soulmate.” Duke grumbled as he rubbed at his chest. The feeling was oddly comforting.

The floating blue man finally seemed to understand as he gasped before flying away in panic.

Duke sighed in relief as a hand fell on his shoulder.

He looked back to see a smirking goth girl and a boy with a red beret. “Nice going, half the realms will know by dinner.” She said as the boy snickered.

“Don’t worry dude, you’ll be fine.” Said the boy when he saw Duke’s worried face. “Besides, that’s a Danny problem, you should be swapping back soon, right?”

Duke nodded, “Any minute now.” He said as he checked the time on Danny’s phone. He had already put his phone number in the notes app as well as a message for Danny to reach out if he felt comfortable.

“I gotta ask, what’s it feel like being Danny? He’s terrible at describing it and I’m curious.” Asked the girl.

Duke smiled as he rubbed his chest right over that comforting feeling. “Cold, but also warm? Kinda like someone’s wrapped their arms around me and I just feel safe.”

The duo looked at each other in confusion. “That…isn’t at all how Danny described being…well…” the boy cleared his throat as the girl elbowed him.

“I think THAT is a conversation for Danny to have with him, don’t you think?” She asked with an arched brow.

“Uh, right..” the boy said, rubbing at his hurt arm. Duke wanted to question them, but his time was up. The minute changed and…. Nothing….

He still felt wrapped up in that safe embrace looking at Danny’s bickering friends.

“I think…something went wrong.” Duke said, trying to hide his Panic.

——

The Fenton household was chaos unleashed and Duke loved it. As soon as Danny’s parents found out who he was they wrapped him up in a big hug and welcomed him to the family.

They all seemed pretty shifty about something though…Duke couldn’t quite put his finger on it though-

Suddenly the basement door burst open as a massive black knight with flaming purple hair yell

“MY KING! CONGRATULATIONS ON FINDING YOUR QUEEN!!”

Yeah…it probably had something to do with that…

Basically a body swap au where a part of their souls swap places for 1 hour, but Danny’s core doesn’t want to let go because it recognizes its soulmate so they get stuck, so they spend the time getting to know each other and end up falling more and more in love with each other.

Bonus: all the ghosts treat Duke like actual royalty because they know Danny will destroy them if Duke gets even a scratch on him.

The Gotham rouges…are not having a good time.

Some goons kidnapped Danny thinking they were getting a payday, but Duke’s body is sturdy and Danny had dealt with more than a few of his rouges with his powers sealed, the rumors that followed would haunt the Gotham underground for years.

[leonw4nter]

୨ৎ ︎˚｡⋆ Sweet Boy

─ ♡ RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

⋆˚࿔ summary - a stubborn crush, plenty of self-indulgent scenarios, and countless excuses to the clinic yet not a single brave word that Leon can say to you. he's not decided on which aim is more accurate: his when he handles a gun or Cupid's arrow when he laid eyes on you, the newly-stationed nurse.

⋆˚࿔ word count - 2.1k words

He’s gazing lovingly at the newly furnished nurse’s office again, chin propped up on his left hand whilst his right fidgets with a click-type Mr. Raccoon ballpen. Just a week ago he couldn’t care less about that room, not bothered to lay an eye on the door whenever he passed it by to refill his paper cup with cheap coffee but now? He can’t bring himself to part his gaze with the direction of that door, baby blues always seen peeking over his cubicle by his co-workers. Well, how can he not when there’s a gorgeous nurse breathing the same air as Leon is right now? What’s not to love about that gentle smile that’s brighter than the fluorescent lights overhead? That gentle voice that’s definitely the balm to all aches and pains? Her twinkling laughter that he overheard while she joked with Officer Elliot (and definitely imagines while he tries to drift to sleep)? The jingle and soft clicking of her bag charms when she passes by the officers’ desks when she clocks in to work?

“Earth to Kennedy, you still with us?” Scott says with a smirk, waving a hand in front of his face. Leon is promptly dragged back down to Earth, dismissing his indulgent thoughts swiftly.

“Y-yes?” He says, a sheepish smile on his lips. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was asking about the reports,” he eyes the papers Leon’s arms are resting on. “Are you done with them? I’m going to send them to Chief’s office along with mine.”

“Uh,” Leon shuffles his papers and checks his progress. “I’ve got, like, a few more things to do then I swear I’m done. Will sending them after lunch be okay with you? I-I promise I’ll get them done.”

Scott chuckles, nodding and leaning on the rookie’s desk. “I’ll take that. But, uh, if you don’t mind me asking: who were you starin’ at?”

Leon can tell that Scott knows but wants to hear the blond admit it out loud.

“Nothing,” he responds a little too hurriedly for his liking. “I was just zoning out.”

His senior coworker glances at the nurse’s office before bending down to speak to the rookie.

“Y’know, you should go talk to her. Get her a cup of coffee that’s better than the one they serve in here,” he suggests, “or buy her a keychain to add into her bag. Girls love trinkets and little shiny knick-knacks.”

From a small gap in her office’s blinds, Leon can see you tuck your hair behind an ear, sticking a tongue out as you wrote something down and he felt his heart do an embarrassing stutter.

“I don’t know,” Leon says. “What if she’s taken? It’s impossible for such a drop-dead beauty like her to be single. And besides, I’m probably out of her league.”

Scott laughs, patting the blond on his shoulder as Leon runs a hand through his sun-spun strands.

“Did she tell you she’s single? You’ll never know until you try, son. Everyone’s talked to her at the station but you, that’s gonna make it look like you hate her or something.”

His words got Leon thinking; he definitely does avoid you out of fear that his awkwardness will disinterest you but he definitely, totally doesn’t dislike you– the opposite, in fact.

“Scott, I’m awkward. I don’t know how to talk to girls and look macho.”

You talk to everyone with the same kindness, but Leon catches himself hoping you save just a little extra of it for him especially.

“Just be yourself. If she likes you then that’s awesome but if she doesn’t then you either do your best to woo her and convince her you’re worth the risk or move on.”

Before he can say anything, Scott leaves his side to head out with a few other senior officers for patrol; his buddies are waiting just outside the door to the west office, engaging in idle talk.

“One more thing,” Scott adds before he finally leaves the space. “You’re really damn obvious with your little crush, rookie. But it’s cute– puppy love, as they call it.”

Warmth blooms in his cheeks, followed by a spread of pink. He takes his jacket and groans loudly, hoping the material muffles him. He hopes that the report yet to be finished can take his mind off of you for a moment.

───────────────────────────────────────────

For several weeks, Leon doesn’t do anything about his feelings and opts to suffer under the crushing weight of his affections in silence. He’s clinging on to tidbits of his interactions with you, if they could even be called that; all he did was stare some more, help you with the fax machine (your finger accidentally brushed against his and he stumbled over his words like a hooligan), and make accidental eye contact that lasted less than 3 seconds. Leon has been promising himself that he would finally man up and make a move, to no avail.

“It’s Scott #1 and Scott #2!”

He looks up from his computer embarrassingly fast, a little dizzy from the way he whipped his head up to face you.

“Sorry, corny joke.” You say with a sheepish smile. It’s embarrassing how Leon felt himself become overridden with adoration and some kind of cuteness aggression.

“Which one of us is Scott #1?” Scott responds, throwing Leon a knowing look. Leon prayed that his coworker wouldn’t make a joke about his crush.

“Leon.” You say. “Scott in his name goes first before yours, since yours is your surname.”

“Is he Scott#1 because he’s the ‘1’ for you?” Scott says with a smirk, much to Leon’s embarrassment. He mumbles a stifled ‘shut up!’ as he clears his throat trying to fight off the wild flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Leon, despite his efforts to hide his pink face, doesn’t miss yours; the way you bashfully looked away before responding with a quip of your own, masking the flustered feeling that arose.

As soon as you retreat back to your office to help Marvin with his migraine, Scott shoots Leon a wink. “Just trying to help out a lost cause.”

The rookie knew that he would definitely have to take matters into his own hands soon if it means cutting these cornball quips short.

Leon’s done with work for the day, washing his mug at the breakroom; it’s moments like these that he secretly likes, him left with the stillness and peace of an empty police department. He smiles softly at the feeling, watching the water wash away the bubbles that once clung to the side of the smooth porcelain. Deep in basking in the feeling of comfortable solitude, he forgets that his head is directly above a part of the cabinet that juts out a little bit. He hits the crown of his head with a thud, a went hand quickly flying up to rub the spot that he hit.

“Ouch,” he hisses as he sets down the wet mug on the counter. “What the hell?”

“Careful,” a soft voice comes from behind him. He turns around, meeting your warm eyes and tender smile. “That sounded like it hurt. You alright, Leon?”

He removes his hand from where it hurts, trying to downplay the pain he felt moments ago.

“Yeah, just caught me off-guard.” He says with a chuckle. “Someone’s gotta do something about these cabinets, they’re not– uh– safe. Haha.”

“Yup,” you agree. “This is the third time someone’s bumped their head on the cabinet. I can bring this up to Chief Irons if you want, as a possible hazard around the station.”

Leon shakes his head, a hand coming up to dismiss the offer.

“I can do it instead. Plus, I’ve got proof right here,” he points to his head. “But thanks for offering.”

Leon realizes that this is the longest he’s gone talking to you one-on-one and you’re actually really into talking to him; you’re laughing at his jokes and offered to hold an ice pack to his head for ten minutes. The rookie finds it hard not to imagine a future where he wakes up with you by his side on sunny mornings and regular date nights filled with laughter; the whole scene seems like a cheesy romance movie with the chemistry that you both seem to have. He swears the air changes when you walk in—lighter, sweeter, like something just bloomed; you have this calm way of moving and Leon thinks you probably have no idea what you’re doing to his heart, or maybe you do—and you’re just that graceful about it. Leon damn near gets on his knees and proposes when you brought up his favorite movies and quoted the lines perfectly, capturing his heart even more and causing him to fall deeper into his pathetic admiration.

Eventually, you both have to go home and Leon swears that you telling him to be careful just turned him into the most situationally-aware and cautious person in the world. He probably said ‘thank you’ three times too many throughout the first aid ordeal so the only logical thing to do next is to spend all night cringing about it.

───────────────────────────────────────────

It’s gotten from bad to worse: he writes your name in print, all caps, cursive, bubble, and doodle text in the corner of his notepad. If he decides to indulge in his lovey-dovey side a little more, he would’ve written you three haikus in one sitting. He’s still doing his staring but he’s also getting caught by you more often; a day ago, you shot him a smile when you caught his glance whilst you worked on health reports, and he folded right, forgetting what he was doing in the first place and pretended to organize files that didn’t need organizing. David shot him a weird look but he ignored it. He caught you humming along to ‘The Promise’ by When In Rome and he swears that he’ll forever remember your heavenly face whenever he hears this song play. Leon’s started taking more reports now, selecting lengthier ones at the cost of his hands’ relief; it’s embarrassing how much time he spends trying to perfect his handwriting just to impress you whenever you swing by and look at his work. Even worse, he’s only using pens that you borrowed from him as a little ‘good luck’ token. Inventory slips and reports? He’s offered to be in charge of them just so he can visit your office more often and talk to you. Paper cuts are a common nuisance now with all the papers dropped off at his desk but not when he has to take a clinic trip and listen to you tell him to be careful while you wrap a band-aid around his finger. He’s developed a taste for homemade honey-nut cheerio granola bars with blueberries after you gave him one when he had to work during his breaks, he damn near confessed his undying and unyielding love for you.

“You sure you’re not just writing up excuses to skip work?” You ask, giving him a cotton swab with eucalyptus ointment for his ‘headache’. “This is your third visit this week and it’s only Tuesday.”

Paper cuts, stomach ache, headache– excuses he’s used just to see you. He’s worried that other officers are going to catch on but love makes him slip up sometimes (all the time).

“C’mon, nurse, don’t you want to see your friend though?” He jokingly asks.

“I’d love to see you after you’re done with your reports and forms. Your table doesn't look cleared out to me,” you say in a stern yet not unkind voice. “I know Marvin’s scary when he’s mad and it’s only going to be a matter of time until they notice. I'd hate to see you get chewed out.”

“Then why don’t you come see me after work so I won't have to keep making excuses to see you?” he blurts out. He didn’t mean for it to come out that soon but alas, it’s too late to take it back. He also sounds reckless, which he totally isn't. Most of the time anyway.

“Let’s have dinner together– my treat. Let’s have it at that restaurant you were telling me about– only if you want to, of course, no pressure, it’s not required or anything. Or- or the vintage trinkets shop a few blocks from the restaurant if you want something less... serious, if you get what I mean.”

He wanted to kick himself for stuttering and sounding so desperate.

“Dinner sounds nice but dinner with you?” You say, eyes glittering. “I think it’s going to be amazing. I’d love to go later.”

The blond lights up like a kid seeing presents under the tree on Christmas morning, a smile replacing the tense frown from moments earlier.

“O-Okay, I’ll drive us there unless y-you want to walk. So, that’s a plan then?”

You nod, smiling at him.

Suddenly, that headache (that was never really there) disappears and he’s back to full energy. Just before he can fully get up, you tug on his collar and bring his cheek to your lips and give him a feather-light kiss. Leon isn’t sure he can focus on anything but your little gift upon his cheek now that he knows the pillowy-soft feel of your lips.

a/n - this fic is born out of listening to Malcolm Todd's "Sweet Boy" on repeat :33 also pls don't mind how the last image in the banner doesn't match to the rest of the story, i just wanna conk out after posting this dawg :'| and y'all playing RE before bed is seriously influencing my dreams because it's so video game-y and gory now (like that's gonna stop me from playing >:>) coz I had a dream last night where me and my friends worked at a morgue that Shein operated because we had to make molds out of the noses and feet of dead people whose bodies turn up during winter so they're preserved... erm </3 this ain't the first wild ass dream i've had coz i've had plenty even without the influence of zombie video games. anyways, that's all and thanks for reading my stuff!!!!! love u lots <333

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐔𝐋

💞 — heartslabyul as some campus romance tropes!!

💞 — featuring!! riddle rosehearts, trey clover, cater diamond, deuce spade, ace trappola!!

💞 — warnings: none!! fluff and shenanigans.

💞 — each one is a little over 130 words! this is an old series from my old account that im rewriting!!

heartslabyul, savanaclaw, octavinelle, scarabia, pomefiore, ignihyde, diasmonia, others.

🩷 — RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

Riddle is totally the student council president gunning to graduate summa cum laude. You see him at practically every campus event giving another speech, and he is usually the culprit reporting things like vandalism and misuse of the institution's amenities. You despise him at first, and then you catch him when he has his guard down, in the twenty-four hour study-room of the library, pouring over some books. There he was, the same guy who lectured you for not sleeping to cram was doing the same. He looked so soft then, so instead of getting your revenge, you placed your books down across from him and offered to study together, “Misery loves company,” you say.

He sighs, but nods, “We will review and then it is paramount that we rest.”

🩷 — TREY CLOVER.

Trey is that unassuming guy at your campus. You see him at the campus bake sale each week selling his goods, and from what you could gather, he was quite well-liked. And yet... you still felt there was something off about him. One day during your lab, you asked if he could help you out with the baked goods for your club meeting, and he accepted—only if you did him a favor in return. That was how you caught yourself at the university garden taking care of some of Trey’s community service hours. You definitely got the short stick from the bunch. When he approaches you, you are glaring at him, but he just smiles and tilts his head to the side, “Oh, come on. I stayed up making those muffins for your club,” he teases. You mutter curses, but keep picking carrots.

🩷 — CATER DIAMOND.

Cater is the campus influencer. He attends all the school events and posts about it on his Magicam page. Dinners? Check. Department galas? Check. The theatre performances? Check. Ultimately, you end up seeing him quite a bit and he is quite nice. Honestly, you did not think too much of him and just tried to avoid him if he was pointing his phone around. One day, you passed him staring at himself through the mirror at the Student Wellness Building, and you approached him curiously. It was like he was picking his features apart, boxing them away, and replacing them with new parts, “Hey,” you said, tilting your head to the side, “I like your earrings.” “Hmm?” he turned to face you and then smiled. Your eyes never felt quite like the ones on his phone, “I’ll send you the link for them.”

🩷 — DEUCE SPADE.

Oh, sweet summer darling, Deuce. He is the guy in your class doing his best to please the professors, even if it means participating in class when he does not particularly understand the topic. When you are put into groups to discuss some poem or other, he appears flushed but tries his best to sound as eloquent as you do. There was something awfully endearing about it, and it made you glad to have chosen a seat beside him at the beginning of the semester. His brows are softly knitted as he clears his throat, "So… I think the, uhh, persona? Yeah, the persona wants to compare how difficult work is with the monot—monoot…? Ah…”

“Monotony?” you corrected him, sweetly. He blushes and nods, “Yes, the monotony of picking apples.”

🩷 — ACE TRAPPOLA.

Ace is your asshole friend who drags you to parties when you really should be studying since you did miserably last exam season for the same reasons. Ace ‘we’ll only be there for a few minutes’ Trappola is not good for someone like you, who fully wants to be an academic powerhouse this year since, new year new you, or whatever it was that you said. You are not any better, caving much too quickly to his guilt-tripping and the prospect of maybe accidentally drunkenly kissing him again.

That was why when you were nearly going to cry over this next essay you were working on, you welcomed his presence in your dorm. He leaned his hip against your desk and gave you that smirk you had grown used to, “Aww, you shouldn’t ugly cry about this,” he jokes, gently grabbing your arm to pull you away from the laptop, “I heard Kalim is throwing another party.”

©rooksamoris 2025. do not steal or translate my work!

support me on ko-fi!

[gatorbites-imagines]

I NEED a pregnant omega Homelander!reader post so bad 🙏

Mark Grayson x Omega Homelander!reader 

I don't normally write pregnancy with the reader being the one carrying, but since its omegaverse ill accept it. Also, cuz its funny. 

Homelander!reader is such a broody omega. Have you guys ever seen those videos of broody hens? Yeah, he's like that. I remember seeing a tiktok with a hen that had stolen all the eggs in the coop, and was brooding on them, and throwing a fit when moved. Thats him. Expect this guy can shoot eye lasers and isn't afraid to kill. 

Hes pretty much always rumbling, downright growling and snarling when something isn't right, and he's not easy to keep pleased. Only time he's at least somewhat comfy is when he's got his alpha dragged into his (very sadly built) nest. He lays on top of Mark, for dominance. 

All these pregnancy hormones make Homelander!reader run more rapid then before, if that's even possible. But hey, at least this time he's running on babyfever and not murderous intent. Not more than usual, anyways. 

Hilarious mental image of Homelander!reader being so baby brained, because we know his hormones are so shot after all these years, that he sees Rudy, in his young human body, and readers brain immediately goes “that's a baby”. 

Rudy has no choice but to put up with Homelander!reader crowding around him, growling into his hair and scenting him. Rudy doesn't smell like pup or anything, but like... Readers not the most mentally present right now. And, it keeps him from sniffing down Cecil to rip his guts out because reader remembered something the guy did years ago. 

I dont think that Homelander!reader shows for a good long while, even in his scent. Its too bloody and overly sweet, an uncomfortable smell, to start smelling like pregnant omega. Only Mark, with his heightened viltrumite senses and biological attraction to the bloody scent, pick it up. 

Imagine Mark being so embaressed when he catches himself in barring his teeth and growling in Rexs direction, when he play flirts with Homelander!reader. Mark has to sit with that for a while, because he's never done that before. Rex will never let him live it down. 

You both become ticking time bombs when the pregnancy advances when Homelander!reader starts finally showing. Marks filled with so many different hormones and instincts, both human and viltrumite, and Reader is just a mess in general. 

Lord have mercy if its during this era that the variants or Conquest pull up. I cant imagine they will even get anywhere near close to doing the same damage as in the show and comics. Because Mark? Hes running on 200% right now, his mate his pregnant, needs back rubs and his favorite food, and these fools are pulling up trying to cause trouble? 

Lmao, imagine Conquest easily picks up the scent on Mark and can tell “hey, he's got a pregnant mate, so... that's good?”. I think all viltrumites are haywired to like Homelander!readers bloody scent, so it's just even more delicious than usual, especially for Conquest and alike. 

But, anyways. Mark becomes so protective its almost embarrassing. When Homelander!reader is a this most vulnerable, Mark starts pacing and patrolling like some kinda obsessed guard dog. He checks on his mate regularly of course. 

Mark even snarls at Oliver and Debbie, but his mom is quick to put him in his place, and Mark feels so embarrassed and apologizes.  

I imagine Nolan wasn't any better when Debbie was pregnant, so she gets it, she wont be disrespected by her son like that though. 

Speaking of Oliver. He gets the same treatment as Rudy, if not worse. Because he smells like viltrumite pup, like Mark, and looks like Mark, even if he's purple. Oliver gets pulled into the nest with Homelander!Reader cooing at him and grooming his hair, as he's all instincts rn. 

Mark has to step in when his mate starts mumbling about how he should start producing milk for the pup though, as that's enough for now. Reader can feed Mark instead, if he really wants to do that. 

In the end, the only ones Reader allows around is Mark, Debbie, Oliver, and MAYBE, a few trusted friends with Eve or his own personal friends. None are allowed in the nest, aside from Mark and Oliver, and perhaps Debbie. And he's growling like a cat the entire time they are in the room.  

He appreciates their presence though, even if he can't show it. 

[inc0mple]

A Rant on How S1 Buddy Acts Like Violet: And How It Is Reflected In The Color of Buddy's Outfits

This is a long post, but I'm very excited about it! Spoilers for up until episode 3 of season 2, which should have been released earlier tonight if I can finish this in time.

In wake of Episode 3, I've been thinking about how much of Buddy as Chase knows him is obviously a direct product of how Buddy sees Violet. Through his behavior it is very clear he internalizes and tries to embody many of her traits, and I think in a way, a lot of the Buddy we've seen so far has actually been a little-brother's impersonation of Violet.

Which is just weird to think about. It's weird to think about how little we know Buddy. The guy has been masking hard; now that we've seen him with Violet, when he isn't repeating back the lines he's being fed (as a key in a story) or acting like the Big Scary Villain, he seems much more gentle, and... more awkward. Still Buddy, but we as the readers should* also acknowledge, the Buddy we are used to in books is in part a very curated personality, and surely has not been entirely genuine.

*I had trouble wording that, I don't think there's one right way to observe a piece of media, but hopefully you get what I mean.

He's such a neurodivergent allegory to me, sigh. But that's a dissection for a different day. Lmk if you want me to yap about that lol

I think a lot of Buddy's forged display personality comes from Violet. I think he looks up to her (even if we've mostly seen him pouting and being conflicted around her, and them foiling each other), and I imagine she's a sort of guide to him. I think many of her ideals and behaviors have rubbed off on him, to the point where a lot of the Buddy we got to know in Season One was actually how Buddy saw Violet---or the value he saw in how she acted.

Here's some more direct parallels between how they act:

As well as some values that Nox seems to hold:

Nox is guarded and careful with his words when he is around Chase and Deacon.

Even thinking about his clothes; Buddy wears purple, and that is the color most of the fanbase associates with him. But in the Season One Q&A, when asked, Punko said his favorite color was grey---something that surprised me, and initially felt weird: 'he's purple, he's always been purple.' But he hasn't been. Buddy wears purple because that is Violet's color, not his.

I wonder even if the use of color in Buddy's outfits is intentional, to show how much he's currently taking inspiration from Violet.

...As that thought has occured to me, I need to go check something.

Arcs where Buddy is mostly PURPLE, like Violet:

Outfits where Buddy is between purple and another color:

Outfits where Buddy is mostly GREY or another color:

Okay, now admittedly many of Buddy's purples are very neutral tones, close to grey themselves. But I'm still categorizing them as purple---just noting that, and also, it's worth acknowledging that Violet is still dressing him in his colors or adding parts of himself into his fits.

Guys... this post wasn't supposed to be about the outfits at all but OH MY GOD.

Okay, many things of note with this, but first and foremost: Buddy gets less purple as time goes on.

He becomes more comfortable with Chase and Deacon, and as such, his true colors start to come through more with Time.

I would like to go arc by arc with this, actually, because I am sitting here with my JAW ON THE FLOOR chat.

Before Toffee Break: Buddy is at his most purple at the beginning of the story; it is the most saturated purple that he wears, and it's all over. If we are to equivocate purple with Buddy acting a role, and hiding himself, this makes sense; at the beginning of the story Buddy doesn't know Chase or Deacon at all, so there is no reason to, more or less, emotionally undress around them. At this point there is not that external factor of actually socializing with Chase and Deacon; Buddy and Violet have a job, and Buddy is there to do that job. Nothing more.

This isn't a color thing but it's worth saying while I'm here, I've also always thought the stripes were an interesting choice because of how they look like bars; maybe implying that Buddy feels trapped in the situation he starts the story in.

Toffee Break: The first unique outfit!! He's still VERY purple. And he isn't vulnerable in this arc; he trashes Deacon, acts all snooty, and makes it very clear that he's still here for a job. A little less saturated of a purple now that he knows Chase---we don't see that saturated purple again---but still purple.

Beach Boys: At the time of this arc, it was the most extreme we had seen Buddy. We did see him at his best, hanging out with Chase as the sun set and trying to make amends---we can see him wearing the hero-y gold and silver in his jewelry (which incidentally he takes off right before he attacks Chase with the spear, but I'm surely reading too much into it at that point)---but we also see him at his worst, as he fights to uphold that villain-y persona. As such: still quite a bit of purple.

Sick Day: He's still in purple but it isn't wearing the primary color anymore. His purple shirt (if you can call it that, LOL) even fades into grey, his color, as I have designated it for this rant. Idk if the black has symbollism but you know what lets give it symbollism anyways; perhaps the black could symbolize confliction? Buddy being unsure of who he is or what he means. After Beach Boys, Buddy and Chase's relationship is transforming, and I'm sure Buddy is largely uncertain by it.

Sick Day has a lot of confliction, then, and a lot of that murkiness between grey and purple---but Buddy helps Chase and Deacon, and is more or less tender to Chase while he is recovering. As such, he has shifted towards something more genuine; less guarded, and less of a goal-orientated mask.

All That Glitters: Don't have too much to say with this, kind of the same thing as Sick Day. He looks like he's backpedaling a little bit though, which makes complete sense for this absolute closeted loser.

Sick Day: Now this arc is interesting because Buddy has two outfits here; one of which is mostly purple and gold, and one of which incorporates Chase's red. He starts the story in red, and he seems comfortable---he's messing with Chase, acting like a little bit of the loser I believe he is inside, etcetera. He's less guarded. He takes the red off and goes full purple when he performs, which is interesting, this relationship between purple and performance, even if it's a different kind of performance. Then it's back on until he gives it to Chase later.

Also want to point out the gold, I'm sure this is something I made up but you know; we could say that Buddy wearing gold symbollizing heroism, and Buddy is hero-esque in this arc, what with the jailkeeper.

Requiem of Blood and Moonlight: AND HERE. HERE IS THE MOST MONUMENTAL SHIFT BECAUSE BUDDY IS ESSENTIALLY IN ALL GREY ONLY DOTTED WITH PURPLE. And it reflects the arc, because Buddy is extremely vulnerable in RoBaM. He loses Chase's attention to Dracifer and becomes jealous, then, later, he is vulnerable and also emotionally intimate with Chase after the coffin scene. He has lost a lot of the "rahhh I'm big and scary fear me" persona he had earlier in the story; and as such, his fit is grey.

Still Waters: Our final arc of the season, and this time, there is no purple at all. Grey and black; he is very conflicted, but he ends this arc heroically, and very close to Chase (cough).

All of this is to say... Violet's influence on Buddy is very great. And as Buddy grows more comfortable with Chase, he is going to mask less, and show his true colors more. And I am very excited to watch it happen :)

[monicaalexandraaa]

OH MY GOSH I WANT TO SQUEEZE HIM !!!!!!!!!!! This is the sweetest !!!!!!! I think I said “awwww” at least 17 times throughout this whole part. He is just so freaking cute. I can already tell he’s getting warmed up to her a tiny bit and I’m excited to see the progression. She’s so kind, confident and funny and is exactly what he needs. She’ll help him loosen up and feel more comfortable not just with her but with himself too😌

Every interaction they had in this was perfect! And when he finally laughs that is such a precious moment🥺I’m already so obsessed with them. Truly cannot express enough how much I love this story already🩷🩷

Fine Print: Chemistry

Masterlist: Here

CW: shyness, brief moments of insecurities, smut (masturbation), Harry is a nervous baby.

A/N: I am so excited to get this story going and I hope yall like it, I’ve never done shy Harry so this was fun!✨

Word Count: 6.5K

Tag List: @vikiii07 @pearlybows @sweetmoonlove0214 @mads3502 @somewiseguy @matildasatellite @lizsogolden @spinninc @prettygurl-2009 @onrsie @silastylesswift @umadirectioner @littlemomentsofbeauty @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777

Summary: Harry’s mom sets up a meeting, you make Harry nervous but are determined to have him feel comfortable around you✨

“But who is she?” Harry asks for the third time as he follows his mom around her garden, adjusting his glasses as she kneels down to cut a few stems of her rose bush. Anne doesn’t look over at her son as she hands him the stems so he can place them in the basket he has his soft cardigan covered arm looped through.

“I told you Harry she’s a lovely girl that I think will do splendidly as your significant other.” Harry feels his tummy do flips at the idea of this girl he doesn’t even know being his significant other. “I know this isn’t ideal and you’re a romantic but it’s just temporary okay? Just until you settle in and get your footing in your new role.” She goes on to add as she spots a few more good looking roses to cut off and hand to Harry to place in the basket.

“This is all just-just a lot and and what if she doesn’t even like me?” Harry feels his chest tighten as he pictures sitting down across from a woman who ends up leaving as soon as Harry opens his mouth and stutters over his hello because he’s nervous and ends up saying something ridiculous. “She’ll probably think I’m-I’m weird or not her type because-”

“Now Harry that’s just ridiculous you’re everyone’s type.” Anne says gently interrupting his nervous rant, not trying to downplay his worries but not letting him talk poorly about himself in the process. “You’re not weird so that’s enough of that and I happen to know for a fact she thinks you’re quite charming.” Harry’s face gets five shades redder as his mother lets him in on a little secret she’s been carrying around ever since she approached you with the idea of marrying her son so he can take his father’s place as head of the family business.

“R-really? She-she said I’m charming?” He stutters as he reaches up and adjusts his glasses, Anne turns her head to look over at him and nods with a soft smile.

“She did.”

“So we’ve met before? Her and I?”

“Once or twice yes.”

“When?” He wonders as he follows his mother as she moves to another rose bush with pink flowers. She waves her hand and lets out a hum as if she’s trying to shoo away his questions.

“I don’t remember.” She answers not looking at him, focusing on finding the prettiest flowers to add to the basket so she can make a few arrangements to place around the house. “Just don’t be late tonight okay? That’s not a good first impression.”

“Mother we’ve already met so this isn’t going to be a first impression.” He states making Anne shoot him a glare that has him swallowing down his sudden braveness, not wanting to get on his mother’s bad side when she seems to be in a very cheerful mood.

“This is important Harry I need you to just be on time and show her how truly lovely you are.” He lets out a sigh as his mother turns so she’s facing him. “Think you can manage that?” She asks as she raises her hand that’s glove free and rests it on the side of Harry’s face, giving his cheek a gentle pat.

“Yes ma’am I can manage that.” He answers with a small smile, trying his hardest to not let his nerves show. And it clearly works as his mom just returns his smile before turning back around to cut a few more roses from the bush. Harry watches from a few steps away as his tummy twists itself into knots and his heart begins to beat a mile a minute when he looks down at his wrist and sees that in a little over four hours he’ll be meeting someone who will potentially be his wife for an undisclosed amount of time, and all he can think or more so worry about is if you’ll like him.

Harry feels as if the entire weight of his family business is resting on his shoulders as he sits in the plush leather seat in the middle of a cafe near his house. He looks around as he nervously fidgets with the ring on his index finger, spinning it around while trying to seem like nothing is troubling him and act like it doesn’t bother him in the slightest that whoever is about to take the seat across from him is going to eventually have the same last name as him. His knee is bouncing up and down as he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, regretting the choice to wear a long sleeve cream colored jumper knowing that he tends to run a little warm when he’s nervous. He is halfway through debating on if he should order a coffee or if it’ll make his heart that already feels on the verge of bursting with how wildly it’s beating, actually do just that with the addition of caffeine when he feels a presence behind him.

“Is it normal for you to sit in a cafe and not order anything?” Your voice startles him as you lean down and fold your arms on the back of his chair so you’re lips are right next to his ear, Harry immediately jolts forward so he can turn his upper body and look at you just as you stand up with a smile on your face that has him struggling to form complete sentences in his mind.

You watch his cheeks turn a deep pink as he reaches up and fixes his glasses that slid down his nose a bit with how quickly he scooted forward in his seat. You can’t help the way your smile spreads into a full blown grin at how utterly adorable the man sitting in front of you is, with his khaki colored slacks and soft knitted jumper and his glasses that bring your attention to his soft jade colored eyes that can’t seem to stare into yours longer than a few seconds before they look elsewhere. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around his chair until you’re standing in front of him with your hand out.

“Allow me to introduce myself.” Harry takes your hand as you tell him your name and it’s one that for some reason sounds vaguely familiar. “I’m going to be your wife in,” you take your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the date on your lock screen. “Two and a half weeks.” You state with a smile as you give his hand a firm shake.

“Oh uhm uh hi I’m-I’m Harry St-Styles.” He fumbles his way through his greeting and it makes him internally cringe at how dumb he sounds just trying to tell you his name, a name that he knows you already know.

“I like your last name.” You tell him as he lets go of your hand, you turn and walk over to the seat across from him. “I like it so much I think I’ll make it mine as well is that okay with you?” You ask as you plop down into the seat, letting your bag fall to the floor by your feet. Harry blinks a few times before clearing his throat and running a hand through his curly brown hair.

“You’re uhm really okay with all of uh-this?” He gestures between the two of you with his hand that’s not white knuckle griping the armrest of his chair.

“Yeah I’m fine with it-I mean don’t get me wrong it’s a little old school to need the person running your family business to be married and a man but it’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” Your answer has Harry’s mind reeling with possibilities of what could be the craziest thing you’ve ever heard, his eyes glance down to your shoes when you catch him staring at you for a beat too long. “I’m going to need you to do something for me okay?” Your voice is soft and sweet but still gives off a sense of confidence that has Harry already mentally agreeing to whatever it is you’re about to ask him to do. You lean over and rest your forearms on your knees, your hands clasp together and your eyes stare into his once he swallows down his nerves and dares to meet your gaze.

“Wh-what is it?”

“I need you to look me in the eye for a full two minutes.”

“I-I uhm why?” He asks as he adjusts his glasses and feels his face get hot as you continue to stare directly at him making him have to look away.

“Because it’ll make it easier for you to not get so-blushy around me if we just stare at each other for a few minutes and then maybe it’ll also help you listen better because I hit you with two jokes about us getting married and you didn’t even chuckle so yeah we have to get this out of the way before it becomes a thing.” Harry sits there in awe of how well you managed to get through your whole little spiel without fumbling over your words, looking away from him and all without your cheeks even gaining the tiniest hint of a blush. Your words came out smoothly and your voice never lost its gentleness, not even when explaining how he failed to laugh at your two little attempts at jokes that clearly went right over his head.

“Why-why two minutes? Why not just uh just one?” He rubs at the back of his neck as his eyes glance over your shoulder to the back of the small cafe, needing a break from the eye contact.

“It’s been scientifically proven that the longer you can maintain eye contact with someone the less likely they are to make you nervous and as your soon to be wife I’d like to make you a little nervous.” This time Harry doesn’t miss the small change your voice does when you lightly tease him, how the softness has a playful edge to it. “But not enough to make you uncomfortable.” You explain with a calming smile that makes a swarm of butterflies go off in his tummy.

“Okay.”

“Great.” You pull out your phone and scroll to the timer app and set it for two minutes before placing it on the armrest of your chair. “Ready?” He gives you a nod in response as he fixes his glasses and runs his palms over the tops of his thighs. “Two minutes starts now.” His eyes slowly find yours and he has to fight the urge to immediately look away, his hands grip his pants as he feels his cheeks get warmer and warmer as the seconds tick by.

“Is there anything you want to ask me?” Your voice almost makes Harry look away but he just clears his throat and maintains his eye contact.

“Uhm uh-have we met before? My mom said-”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Five or six years ago I think? It was very brief at a convention my dad dragged me to. Your dad was talking to my dad about golf clubs and I dropped my badge on the floor and you picked it up for me.” The wheels in Harry’s mind begin to turn and you smile as if you can actually see him beginning to figure it out.

“Your dad knows my dad?” You just nod and then the lightbulb goes off in Harry’s mind. “Oh-I knew- knew your name sounded familiar. Your dad used to-”

“Own one of your biggest competitors? Yeah. Well before he sold it two years ago.”

“Oh.” He says as he sits back in his chair, his eyes a little wide but still locked onto yours. “Is that-that why my mom picked you? Because of your family?”

“Picked me? Harry do you think she selected me out of some applicant pool as if she posted about this on some job site?” You ask with a laugh making him shrug, the timer goes off and you silence it and much to your surprise Harry stays looking directly at you.

“I don’t know how she did it. She just uh told me what was happening and if I’d uhm-have any-any issues with it.”

“Well your mom has been going to my tennis club for the last year and a half so we’ve gotten friendly and she approached me two weeks ago with this proposal of marrying her son so he can take his father’s place as head of the company.” Harry nods as you begin telling him the story his mother has been refusing to. “She told me she wanted someone like me because I know how it goes-running a company and the toll it can take on someone. But mainly because she wanted someone who would help you gain the confidence and respect of your employees because you’re-”

“Too nice? Soft? A w-wimp?” Your eyes harden just a bit as you stand up from your seat and Harry regrets opening his mouth as you approach his chair.

“Being soft isn’t a bad thing. The world is plenty sharp enough I think it needs more softness.” Harry feels his hands get sweaty as you place a hand on the back of his chair so you can lean over and run a hand through his hair. “She said you’re kindhearted and she doesn’t want to see you get taken advantage of.” You answer as you stand up and he feels as if he can take a sigh of relief when you look away from him and over towards the counter. “Let’s go order something so we don’t look like the only two weirdos not drinking anything in the middle of a cafe.” He stumbles out of his chair to follow you as you head for the counter.

“So uhm why did-did your dad uh sell the company?” Harry asks surprising not only you but himself as the two of you stand off to the side after ordering your drinks. You just give him a casual shrug as you lean against the counter.

“He wanted to retire and I didn’t want to take it over.” Your answer is simple but Harry can tell there’s more to it but before he can ask anything else a nice barista is handing him a cup of coffee and you an iced late.

“Thank you.” You quirk a brow at Harry’s soft spoken thanks, because you were standing next to him when he ordered and you know for a fact he didn’t order a hot coffee. You notice him bring the cup up to his lips and make a face that tells you he doesn’t like whatever he just took a sip of.

“Excuse me?” Harry nearly trips over himself to follow you as you take the cup from his hands and walk around to the front of the counter, as he stands behind you he begins to think this is going to be something he’ll be doing a lot of, stumbling over himself to keep up with you.

“Hi how can I help you?” You give the barista a pleasant smile as you place the cup down on the counter in front of her.

“He ordered a double shot over ice with two creams and one sugar.” You explain with no hint of annoyance or rudeness in your voice, just right to the point. The woman looks at the cup and then back at you with an apologetic look on her face.

“So sorry I’ll get that out right away.”

“Thank you so much.” You say before turning around and Harry watches your hand as it comes and rests on his arm. “It’s not rude to ask for things to be fixed. It doesn’t make you an asshole.” It’s as if you can read him like a book the way your words hit him right in the chest. “Don’t settle for things you don’t like. Not even something as small as a cup of coffee.”

“Here you go ma’am so sorry about that.” You turn and grab the cup from the nice woman’s hand, giving her a smile.

“Thank you it’s for my husband-gets a little cranky without his mid day caffeine kick.” You joke making the woman laugh as she looks over your shoulder towards Harry who is looking down at the floor while rubbing the back of his neck hoping neither of you can see how pink his cheeks are.

“Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Did you call me your uhm hus-husband?” You just nod as you hand him his coffee and walk back over to the side of the counter to grab your latte and head back to your chair.

“Might as well start getting used to calling you that right?” You stop mid step nearly making Harry crash into you as you turn around and raise an eyebrow at him. “Unless you don’t want me to be your wife and you’re just trying to think of a polite way to tell me you’re not interested and your mom needs to find someone-”

“No no I like you.” He sputters out faster than he intends making you let out a chuckle. “I just don’t uhm know what happens now?” You reach your hand up and place it on the side of his face, Harry instantly without any shame leans into the warmth of your touch.

“Well did you want to propose now or wait until after my background check clears?” This has Harry choking on a sip of coffee and trying to catch his breath as you reach up and place a kiss to the cheek your hand isn’t holding.

“I uh-uhm I don’t-don’t know.” You laugh as you pull away from him and drop your hand from his face allowing him to collect himself.

“I’m just kidding Harry- that’s three jokes now so maybe we need to do some more eye content drills.” You lightly tease as you give his arm a reassuring squeeze before looking down at the watch on your wrist with a small frown. “It was lovely meeting you but I have to go-I’ll see you in a few days for drinks or dinner okay?” All Harry can do is nod as you give him one last warm smile before turning and grabbing your stuff and heading out the door of the cafe.

“Holy crap.” He mumbles as he walks over to his chair and plops down with a humph. “That-that was my future wife.” A smile creeps its way onto his face as he leans his head against the cushion of he chair, the sound of your voice and the way your eyes seem to sparkle when you smile replaying in his head as he begins to think that maybe this won’t be too bad, you seem nice and have enough confidence for the both of you so maybe this will turn out better than he thought.

“You look cute.” Your words already have Harry feeling flustered as he stands up to greet you when you make your way to the table in the back of a little Italian place you suggested the two of you have dinner at.

His eyes quickly rake over your frame, he is in a slight daze over how effortlessly put together and cute you look with your green dress that you tossed a thin white sweater over so you don’t get cold. It’s not lost on him how you manage to make something that’s simple look as elegant as an evening gown with how you carry yourself. He can see exactly why his mom sought you out for him. When his eyes meet yours his tummy does a weird little flip when you give him a little wink.

“I like you in brown.” He smiles and looks down at his light brown cardigan he has over his plain white t shirt that’s tucked into a pair of jeans, you hang your bag in an empty chair before leaning over and placing a kiss to his cheek. “Makes your eyes pop.” You explain making him just nod as he tries to act like the feeling of your lips on his cheek hasn’t been at the forefront of his mind since you did it the first time two days ago in the cafe.

“Thank-thank you uhm you look beautiful.” His voice gives his nerves away as he feels his whole face get hot when you pull away from him. You let out a chuckle as you take your seat in the chair right next to him that he is quick to pull out for you.

“So glad I’m marrying a man with manners.” You say appreciatively as he helps push your chair closer to the table.

He smiles as he lets his eyes wander over your face for a moment before taking his seat, taking note of how pretty you look with the candle light blanketing your features in a soft glow. He feels suddenly out of place sitting here with you, as if he doesn’t quite meet the standards of someone you should be seen having dinner with.

“Okay come on.” He’s brought out of his thoughts by your hand grabbing his on top of the table.

“Where-where are we going?” He asks making you laugh as you shake your head and even though you’re laughing at him having no clue what’s going on he decides he likes the way it sounds.

“No where.” You say with a laugh as you wrap your fingers around his hand. “Just need you to look in my eyes for a bit because that’s now four marriage jokes I’ve told you since meeting you and I still haven’t gotten even a little giggle out of you and it’s not that I think I’m wildly funny or anything but I do think those were decent chuckle worthy jokes.”

“I’m-I’m sorry I just-”

“It’s okay.” Your voice puts him more at ease as you give his hand a soft squeeze. “I just want you to feel comfortable around me that’s all so come on-look me in the eyes and tell me what you’re wearing to this party on Saturday so I can plan accordingly.” Your eyes are soft and easy to get lost in when Harry finally finds it within himself to look into them.

“Uhm I’m wearing a black suit with a r-red shirt and black slacks and uh-uh black dress shoes.” You nod along as Harry slowly tumbles his way through telling you what he’s wearing to his father’s retirement party, never making him feel as if he needs to rush you just simply sit there and look at him as if what he’s saying is the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard.

“Okay I have a red dress but I’ll have to see the exact shade of red your shirt is to make sure it matches or else we are going to look silly.”

“You-you want to match with-”

“With my fiancé? Yes. Makes it look as if we’ve been coordinating our outfits for years-it’ll be good to make it seem as if this won’t be our first social outing as a couple.”

“Oh right-yes that makes uhm sense.” You instantly pick up on the slight shift in Harry’s voice, going from shocked and excited to almost deflated and it has you leaning towards him, a small smirk playing at the corners of your mouth.

“And I just want everyone to know you’re mine and nothing does that better in a room full of nosey businessmen and their even nosier wives than a matching color scheme.” Harry has to break the eye contact as he feels his cheeks get hot, he adjusts his glasses and softly clears his throat before he can look at you again. “So just send me a photo of your shirt and I’ll make sure my dress matches.”

“Did you want to arrive together? Uh like with-with uhm me? So it doesn’t look weird us showing up separately?”

“Oh my man has manners and brains? I might never give you up.” This has Harry quietly chuckling making your eyes go wide and a grin to spread across your face. “Oh my god I’ve done it!” He smiles as you give his hand a firm squeeze and reach over with your free hand and place it on his cheek. “You laughed.” You say with a happy sigh making him once again let out a chuckle at your dramatics that give him a warm and fuzzy feeling on the inside because of how happy you are over the fact you managed to get him to laugh.

“Does this mean we don’t-don’t need the eye contact uhm drills anymore?” He asks nervously as you pull your hand away from his cheek and when you just give him a look he already knows your answer.

“Oh no we are going to continue to do them until I get a full on belly laugh out of you.” He just nods and rubs his lips together as you finally let go of his hand so you can grab the menu that’s in front of you. “Now let’s pick something to eat because I’m starving and you and I have things to discuss and I can’t do business on an empty stomach.”

“So you-you don’t want to change anything about the contract? You’re-you’re sure?” Harry asks as you scrape the last bit of ice cream from the sundae you ordered for dessert. “Not even the uhm-uh compensation? I left that-that open for negotiation.” You let out a hum of pleasure as you put the spoon in your mouth that has Harry’s gaze falling away from your eyes and down to your lips. He watches as you pull the spoon from your mouth and lick your lips in what seems like slow motion making him shift in his seat and look down at the table as he fixes his glasses.

“Harry I don’t need to be heavily compensated I have enough money to live a very comfortable life so yes everything is fine.” You answer as you push the now empty bowl away from you. “I was a little shocked at what was hidden in the fine print though.” Harry raises an eyebrow as you fold your napkin and place it on the table next to your bowl.

“What-what fine print?”

“The fine print that says that the timeframe for our marriage is dependent upon on how quickly we can get you to be taken seriously and seen as a dependable and confident new head of the company but I can expect it to take anywhere between six months to over a year.”

“Oh I see.”

“And that I get an extra ten thousand for every baby I give you.” You have a playful smile on your face as Harry nearly drops his glass of water and looks at you with wide eyes.

“That-that’s not-there’s no way-you don’t have-”

“Relax Harry I’m kidding. There’s nothing about babies in the contract.” Harry lets out a sigh of relief that has you reaching over and lightly smacking his arm. “Gee can you sound anymore relieved? I mean I don’t think having babies with me would be that horrible.”

“Oh no that’s not-I don’t think it would be bad it would be lovely-not the uhm making of the babies but that you’d-you’d uhm make lovely-lovely babies.” Harry officially wants to get up, walk away and change his name as the words seem to fall from his mouth without his permission.

“I think you’d make some pretty adorable babies as well Harry.” He can’t bring himself to look at you as your words hit his ears, still too embarrassed by the ridiculous stuttering mess of jumbled up words he just said to you. “Your mom said we are announcing the engagement at the party so that will officially mean the countdown is on and we have to be married by the time your dad leaves his office for the last time.” You quickly and smoothly move the conversation along as you grab your glass of water so you can take a sip.

“Okay does that me we have to-”

“How are we doing over here?” Harry looks up as the waitress approaches the table, her eyes never leaving Harry as she stands there with a smile on her face. “Need anything else? More water or-”

“I think we are good thank you.” You answer as the waitress not so subtly checks Harry out, who is too busy turning and looking over at you to notice. When she finally looks away from him and over at you, you reach over and place your hand over his arm as you lean just a tad bit closer to him to show the waitress that Harry is very much not avaible for her to drool over, at least not in front of you. “Oh actually maybe the check if you don’t mind?”

“Oh uh yeah sure thing I’ll be right back.” You see the small hint of disappointment on her face when Harry just stays looking at you, making her have no other choice but to nod as she turns and walks away.

“So how are you feeling about this? Like really?” You ask with a tone that Harry hasn’t heard from you before, it’s still sweet but the undertone is more serious.

“I uhm-”

“Don’t be afraid to hurt my feelings okay? Be honest.”

“I feel good about this uhm I was nervous-I’m still nervous but not about this but more about uh taking-taking over the company that-that’s uhm yeah a uh a lot.”

“Well you won’t have to do that alone.” Harry once again feels butterflies in his tummy when you give him a genuine smile as you give his arm a squeeze. “I’ll be there every step of the way.” Your words have him relaxing a bit, you slide your hand down so it’s over his wrist.

“Thank you.” He says with a smile that lets you see his dimples for the first time, your whole face lights up as you stare at him.

“Oh goodness dimples? Yeah good luck getting rid of me you’re like the total package.” Harry’s face gets warm but he fights through it and doesn’t take his eyes off yours.

“I uhm had a good-good time tonight.” He tells you as he mindlessly flips his hand over so his palm is facing up and you don’t waste anytime in sliding your hand into his making him swallow nervously as you slip your fingers between his.

“Here’s your check. Have a good rest of your night.” You reach over with your free hand and grab the check from the middle of the table before Harry can even try to reach for it as soon as the waitress walks away.

“I can’t let you-”

“Can’t let me what? Buy you dinner? Why not?”

“Uhm because that’s-this is like a uh date right? So-so I should pay.”

“Says who?”

“It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Don’t worry I won’t think you’re rude for letting me pay it’s okay.” Harry lets out a sigh as he shakes his head while you grab your wallet out of your purse. “Look at us. Having our first fight over who gets to pay for dinner. We’re so cute.”

“This-it’s not a fight but just know I’m not okay with this.” You laugh and give his hand a squeeze as you place the check down with your card tucked underneath it.

“I’ll let you pay for everything else from now on how about that?”

“Fine.” He tries to sound upset but the smile tugging at his mouth gives him away and before he can stop himself he’s leaning over and tucking some hair behind your ear. “Sorry you-”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to touch me I’m not made of glass.” Your voice is light and teasing but Harry can’t help but sense a hidden meaning to your words but before he can think to hard about it the waitress comes by to grab the check.

“So I’ll see you this weekend?” You ask as you stand outside the restaurant, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“Yes I’ll uhm come pick you up around six if that-that works for you?”

“Works great.” You answer as you take a small step towards him, Harry looks down at you and adjusts his glasses as you wrap your arms around him in a hug. “I had a nice time tonight Harry. Thank you for being such a gentleman.” You tell him as his body finally reacts to what’s happening, you rest your cheek against his shirt as his arms loosely wrap around your shoulders returning your embrace.

“Thank you for being uhm so-understanding I uh can see why my mom picked you.” You smile as you pull away and look up at him.

“See you Saturday hubby.” You give him a playful wink that has him chuckling and it works as a distraction so he doesn’t notice you reaching up on your tiptoes until he feels your lips on his in a kiss that is so quick the only way he knows it actually happened is he can faintly feel the softness of your lips when you pull away with a smile. “Don’t worry I’ll text you when I get home. I know how much you worry about me.” You tease as you unwrap your arms from around him.

“Uhm uh-see-see you Saturday.” His words are rushed and it makes you giggle as Harry’s arm fall down to his sides as he watches in a trance like state as you turn around and head towards the car that’s waiting to take you home. You give him a wave that he doesn’t register and try to return before it’s too late and you’ve already climbed into the backseat and closed the door, leaving Harry standing there in a daze as he watches the car drive off down the street feeling not nervous, but actually kinda excited about Saturday.

Harry can’t seem to get you out of his head when he gets home from dinner. His mind is a mixture of images that remind him of how pretty you are, how sweet your voice is when you’re telling him a story and the adorable smile you get when you’re teasing him. But the main two things that have Harry’s mind spinning is how much he enjoys hearing you call him your fiancé or husband already, he knows those are titles he’ll actually be to you soon but hearing them fall from your lips with such enthusiasm and excitement makes his heart do weird things and he really can’t get over how soft your hands feel whenever you slide them into his or wrap them around his wrist.

Harry steps into his shower thinking it’ll help him relax and get you off his mind, he lets the warm water hit him easing the tension in his shoulders as the warmth of the steam engulfs him. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes, but he’s instantly met with visions of you laughing and smiling at him and something about the way you smile at him sends a shiver down his spine. The visions playing in his mind are so vivid, he can practically hear your voice saying his name and the feeling of your hand gently wrapping around his wrist and suddenly it’s all too much for him.

Harry’s arm reaches forward, his hand resting on the cool tile wall of his shower as he feels himself hardening at the mere thought of you. He slides a hand down his toned stomach wondering how it would feel if it was your hand and not his own, he lets out a groan as he wraps his hand around his hard length giving himself a few slow strokes. He knows this is probably borderline inappropriate, stroking himself to the idea of how it would feel to have your soft hands on him but in this very moment Harry can only focus on how good he feels.

“Oh shit.” He mumbles as he remembers the faint feeling of your lips against his, his mind spinning with ideas of how nice those lips would feel wrapped around his hard cock. He lets out a soft moan as he pictures you kneeling down in front of him, your pretty round eyes gazing upward, lips parted invitingly. His hand tightens around himself as he envisions your tongue tracing him teasingly, your mouth enveloping him fully feeling deliciously warm and wet around his shaft, your head bobbing rhythmically.

“Oh yes-just like that.” He murmurs breathlessly, his hand quickening its pace, gripping tighter as pleasure starts to build rapidly. Harry swears he can almost hear your soft moans, they’d be sweet and a bit whiney and it makes his cock twitch in his grasp. He imagines your hands gripping his thighs as you take him deeper, letting his hands tangle in your hair, imagines the moans you’d let out when he gives it a few tugs.

“Fuck.” He gasps urgently, his hips thrusting instinctively into his own hand, driven by the vivid image of you looking up at him while he thrusts his hips letting the tip of his thick cock hit the back of your throat making you gag slightly. Your nails digging into the back of his thighs urging him on.

“Shit-oh fuck.” He groans loudly, the warm water cascading over his trembling body as his climax surges powerfully through him, releasing in hot pulses onto the shower tiles. He shudders deeply, breathing heavily as the intense pleasure begins to subside. His eyes slowly open and he lets out a shaky breath as he realizes what he just did and instead of feeling guilty or even embarrassed at how quickly he managed to get himself off he just lets out a breathy laugh at how flustered you made him after just a few interactions with you, knowing it’s only going to get worst the longer he’s around you. He shakes his head making water fling off the ends of his damp hair, trying to clear his mind.

“Get it together Harry.” He mumbles to himself as he tilts his head up towards the water and runs both hands through his hair. The movement making him remember how good your hand felt when you ran it through his hair in the cafe. He has to shut his eyes tight and make himself think of other things like memos from work and meetings with the marketing team so he doesn’t get worked up again but even those thoughts have him remembering how soft your voice sounded when telling him how you’ll be with him every step of the way as he transitions into his new role and he feels his cock twitch between his thighs making him let out a frustrated groan.

“I’m so fucked.”

[vbecker10]

Stop Worrying

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Steve comes home early when he hears you're sick but his efforts to help leave you feeling like your super soldier boyfriend doesn't think you can take care of yourself. After you tell him to stop worrying and leave you alone, you run into Bucky who explains how ill Steve was before the serum and how much anxiety it causes him when the people he cares about get even a little bit sick.

Warnings: Angst (because why the hell not), being sick (it's just a cold), being a moody person when your sick (sometimes you just want to be left alone to feel awful), Steve getting yelled at for just trying to help, mentioning how Steve's mom died and all of his childhood illnesses (which I googled so hopefully they are right, if not oh well I guess)

A/N: Well... this was supposed to be super fluffy and cute but that's not what happened lol. There's a bunch of angst that was not planned but if you know me you should have known I wouldn't write anything straight fluffy, not sure why I tried lol. I hope you all enjoy this! 💚

A coughing fit forces you to sit up on the couch, reaching for a half empty bottle of water while you cover your mouth with your other hand. After finishing the water, you toss it in the small trash can you brought in from the bathroom and lay back down. You shiver and pull the blanket tightly around your body then sigh and pick up the thermometer next to the tissue box. Closing your eyes, you kick the blanket off your warm lower half and wait for it to beep.

I better not have a fever, you think and close your eyes when you feel like it is taking too long to register your temperature. Hopefully this is just a stupid little cold and I'll be fine by the time Steve comes home this weekend. I'm so tired, I'm really just not in the mood for captain perfect to see me all sniffley and gross.

You're eyes open quickly when a sound interrupts your thoughts but it's not the beeping you are waiting for, it's the front door.

"Y/N," Steve's voice fills your shared apartment just as the thermometer finally beeps. He closes the door and takes off his jacket while you try to stifle a cough and read the results. "I heard you were sick, are you okay?"

You nod, unable to answer as you begin to cough. Steve goes to the kitchen and returns with an open bottle of water, handing it to you as you finish coughing. You look up briefly at him and see his expression full of worry.

While you drink, he picks up the thermometer and checks to see the last reading. "No fever, that's good," he says but he sounds overly concerned when he puts it back down. "Did you have one earlier?"

You shake you head and clear your throat. "No, I was just getting the chills a bit so I figured I should check it."

"Oh, that was good thinking," Steve agrees when you sit up on the couch, covering your legs then bending them to give him room. He sits near your feet and rests his hand gently on your knee over the blanket.

"Thanks," you mumble despite feeling like his approval isn't really necessary. It's not my first time feeling like garbage. If you're hot and cold at the same, you take your temperature, it's not really a big deal, you begin to feel annoyed. You know your boyfriend isn't really what's bothering you, you're completely exhausted from not being able to sleep and because you've felt terrible for the last two days. It's nice to have him home but you really didn't need him to see you like this either.

Steve doesn't seem to notice your sour mood though, his hand gently squeezing your knee when you look at him again. "Why are your home? I thought you didn't get back for a few days," you ask, drinking a bit more water while you wait for an answer.

"They're still out in the field but Nat called and told me you were sick," he explains. "Tony and Clint can handle this one without me."

"You didn't need to do that. It's just a cold," you respond, feeling more than a little irritated that your mutual friend was keeping an eye on you for him. She is a spy though so I guess that's what she does, you remind yourself

"Are you sure?" he questions you. "Did you see anyone in the infirmary? I'm sure Dr. Palmer wouldn't mind taking a quick look at you. It could be the flu or an upper respiratory infection or-"

"It's a cold," you interrupt him, letting your annoyance show more than you meant to. "Stop worrying, I'll be fine."

"I always worry about my sweetheart," he says with a warm smile, his hand moving up and down your shin lightly over the blanket.

You feel yourself forcing a smile and you know he can tell when his smile falters and he clears his throat awkwardly. Normally, you love when Steve is sweet and touchy but right now all you want is to be alone until you feel less miserable.

"Did you eat anything today?" Steve ask after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah," you respond then realize he's waiting for you to prove it. You try not to sigh out loud but you're starting to feel as if he's treating you like one of his new recruits, double checking everything you say or do. "I had a little dry cereal this morning and some soup like an hour ago."

"That's not very much," he sounds disappointed in your answer.

"I haven't really been hungry," you shrug, not making eye contact with him as you reach for a tissue to sneeze into.

"Bless you," he says as you quickly turn so your perfect boyfriend doesn't have to watch you blow your nose. "I could make you something," his hand gently rubs your knee again.

You toss the tissue, "I'll make more soup later."

"No, I think I'm gonna rest for a bit," you look up at him, thankful when he gets up from the couch so you can stretch your legs out again.

"Okay, just make sure you don't forget to eat. You need to keep your strength up to fight whatever you have," his words sound almost like an order and you nod then avoid looking at him by fixing the blanket. "Do you need anything? More water or a new box of tissues?"

"Okay sweetheart," you can feel his eyes moving over your body as you pull the blanket up higher. "How about some tea? It would be good for your cough. I can put honey in it if your throat is bothering you," he suggests when you begin to cough.

You shake your head although you have to admit that might be a good idea. You just can't help feeling annoyed by the way Steve is constantly making suggestions and questioning your decisions. He's always been a fixer and a leader in the field during missions but right now all you want to curl up in a ball and be left alone.

"You sure? That cough sounds pretty bad," Steve says as he begins to clean up the few tissues on the floor that must have missed the garbage can.

"Just leave them, I can clean up later," you tell him, embarrassed as you watch a super soldier handle your snotty trash.

"I don't mind helping Y/N," he says with a caring smile.

"I don't need help," you snap without thinking. "I can take care of myself Steve. I'm not a little kid or one of your new soldiers that you have to lead around because they're useless."

"I didn't say that," he sounds confused by your reaction which only annoys you further.

"You're acting like it though," you tell him.

"I'm sorry, I-" he begins to apologize but you interrupt him.

"Can you just leave? I really want to rest," you lay down and fix the blanket, getting frustrated when it tangles around your foot.

He gently tugs the end of the blanket free from your foot and you sigh. "Maybe you should sleep in the bed," Steve says and you glare up at him. He visibly regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth and he tries to take them back. "I just mean-"

"Stop worrying and just leave me alone Steve," you roll over, facing the back of the couch and folding your arms over your chest. Closing your eyes tightly, you breath deeply to try and avoid a coughing fit when you hear the door open and close.

"Do you know why Steve slept on my couch last night?" he asks.

You walk into the common kitchen, still exhausted from another mostly sleepless night and go straight to the fridge. You cover your cough as you grab a bottle of water then pause when someone knocks on the open fridge door. You close it partially and see Bucky looking at you curiously.

"Oh," you mumble and close the fridge door. "I yelled at him."

"Did he do something stupid?" Steve's friend assumes.

"Not really I guess," you shrug but Bucky's expression makes it clear he's looking for the full story. "I don't know... He's so overbearing sometimes. I know he means well but he left a mission early cause Nat told him I'm sick. I'm not a child or something, I can take care of myself. I've been doing it my whole life."

Bucky rubs the back of his neck with his metal hand then says, "I think you should talk to him."

"Bucky I'm not apologizing cause I don't want to be babied," you tell him, sniffling while you pull out a cough drop from your pocket.

"That's not what I mean," he says and before you can respond he asks, "What do you know about Steve from before they gave him the serum?"

"Not much honestly," you admit after thinking for a moment. "I know he was short and kinda skinny but that's pretty much it."

He takes a seat at the island and you copy him, feeling like this is going to be a longer conversation than you originally thought. You crack open your bottle of water and wait for him to start talking.

"Before he was a super soldier, Steve was a really sick kid," Bucky says. "Poor guy was anemic, had diabetes, a heart murmur, scoliosis, asthma and partial hearing loss from scarlet fever when he was really young."

"Wow," you say quietly in disbelief.

"Yeah... he also had a terrible immune system. If anyone had a sore throat or the flu or literally anything contagious, you could count on Steve getting it. I had to take care of him a lot back then, he was sometimes too weak to get out of bed by himself," you bite your lip as Bucky talks, trying to imagine the super soldier you know needing that much help. "When his mom died, everything got worse," he looks down at his hands while he talks.

"How did she die?" you ask as you quickly realize you've never asked Steve anything about his life before he was the famous Captain America.

"She worked as a nurse in a tuberculosis ward and unfortunately she caught it from her patients. She passed right before Steve's 18th birthday," Bucky looks up at you.

"I had no idea, that's awful," you say, wishing you had gotten to meet her or at least heard other stories about him mom.

"Yeah," Bucky agrees with a slight nod. "Steve was always a bit of a... we'll call him a worrier when we were growing up but he sort of spiraled after watching his mom get sicker and sicker. Now I can see it was anxiety and some sort of panic disorder but those weren't things people really understood or talked much about back then."

You fidget with the water bottle, peeling the label off while you listen to Bucky quietly.

"I tried my best to help him but a few years after Sarah, his mom, died I got the flu pretty bad and he was a wreck," Bucky continues. "He wouldn't leave my side for a minute, even after the doctor told him I'd be okay. Steve did everything he could think of. Brought me food and water, tracked my medicine and read to me when I was too tired to hold the book up myself. It took me a few weeks to get back to normal but it took him way longer to let go of trying to take care of me."

"I'm not saying Steve isn't a lot, cause we both know he can be," he chuckles lightly and you smile a little, "but maybe cut him a little slack? I know how much he cares about you and I think you getting even a little sick brings back those feelings from when we were younger."

You're quiet for a moment, digesting everything Steve's oldest friend told you then you shake your head. "I can't believe I didn't know any of this," you frown and wonder how well you really know the man you're living with.

"Go talk to him," he says encouragingly. "He's probably still in my apartment if he didn't head down to the gym yet."

"I will, thanks," you get off the stool, grab your water and head to Bucky's.

Steve sits on the couch, tying his shoes without looking up when you open the door. "Sorry Buck, I'll be out of your hair in a minute." He stands and finally sees you waiting quietly by the door. "Y/N?"

"Can we talk?" you ask him, fidgeting with the water bottle in your hands.

"Yeah," he sits back down on the couch and you sit next to him, placing the bottle on the coffee table.

"I talked to Bucky," you start, "He told me you were here."

"I wasn't sure where else to go," he shrugs.

"I shouldn't have told you to leave, I'm really sorry Steve," you tell him and he reaches for your hand squeezing it gently. You sniffle and he hands you a tissue which makes you crack small smile. "Thanks."

"I just wanted to take care of you," Steve says when you turn away from him to blow your nose. "I wasn't trying to upset you."

You nod and look back at him, "I know... and that's really sweet of you but I'm not used to anyone helping me like this. I've always done things on my own and the way you just came in and started asking me all kinds of questions and suggesting things really made me feel like you didn't trust me to take care of myself."

"That's not how I wanted you to feel at all," he says. "I was worried about you but that doesn't mean I think you're incapable of getting better on your own. I just don't think you should have to do it all by yourself, I want to be here for you."

"Maybe we can split the difference a little," you suggest and he furrows his brow a bit in confusion. "Instead of throwing a ton of things you think I should do at me all at once, just suggest one thing and if I say no, listen to me."

"I can do that," he smiles as he relaxes for the first time since he heard you were sick. He leans over and kisses your cheek.

"Thank you," you rest your head on his shoulder, covering your mouth when you yawn.

"Should we go back to our place so you can rest?" he suggests almost nervously.

A smile spreads across Steve's face, "I'd really like that. It's been a long time since I've talked to anyone other than Bucky about her."

"Yes please," you get up, holding his hand tightly. "And maybe later, you can tell me some stories about your mom. Bucky told me a little bit about her and I'd like to know more, if that's okay?"

"I guess I never asked you anything about your life before I knew you," you say when he opens the door to the hall for you. "I had no idea you had such bad health or why you got so anxious when you heard I was sick."

"How long did you two talk for?" he asks in a half joking manner.

"A while," you answer with a shrug and a smile as you walk together towards your apartment.

He chuckles, "I'll tell you all about how scrawny and weak I used to be as soon as you're all better. I don't want to make you laugh too much while you still have that cough." He moves his arm around your waist to keep you close.

"I really just can't imagine you being short," you giggle.

"That was the least of my problems back then," he assures you

Steve opens the door to your apartment, his arm gently holding you around the waist as you cough hard. When you catch your breath he asks, "Do you need anything or do you want me to head out for a bit so you can go back to sleep?"

You look up at him, knowing exactly what will make you feel better, "Can I have some soup please? And cuddles."

He smiles and kisses the top of your head lightly, "I can absolutely help with both of those. Go get comfy, I'll be there in a few minutes sweetheart."

"Thanks handsome," you sniffle and walk towards your room, pausing when you get to the doorway to turn and look back at him. "I love you."

"I love you too, now go rest," Steve says from the kitchen. "I'll be right in to take care of you."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💙💙 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

(I wasn't really sure who to tag for this cause I don't really have a Steve list)

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @multyunervisesuperfan @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @km-ffluv @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @hopefuldreamers-world @anukulee @trojanaurora @babygirl-panda19 @catsladen @stargazer-luna @gruftiela @bolontiku @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @crimson25 @lokiandbuckysdoll @holdmytesseract @wolfsmom1 @peaches1958 @michellewgrt @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx @motherofmischief @lethallyprotected @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes

[inkydelusions]

rom com material - 2k

hey !! this is the continuation to this post, so make sure to check it out (or not, it doesn’t really matter if you don’t read part one first)

summary: reader and spencer go out on a double date with jj and will and the atmosphere is set to offer them the best rom com setting. c.warning: none. just two fools in love and a ton of rom coms references. a/n: i had the best time writing this omg !! i love these two so much, and i love writing about people in love. let me know if you want more of these two fools in love because i could definitely write more about them

at some point during dinner, it had started raining. the soft splatter of the water on the window next to your table was a great companion to the light chatter around you. you were staring at the rivulets running down the glass when spencer’s voice called your attention.

“are you okay?” he asked softly. his hand was resting on the table, so close to yours your pinkies almost touched.

you smiled at him. “yeah. i’m just thinking i should’ve picked an umbrella this morning.”

“we can share mine,” he offered. and you were about to kindly reject it, out of habit. then you remembered that you didn’t have to pretend you didn’t want him as close to you as was humanly possible anymore.

“sure.” you nodded, he smiled.

from the other side of the table, jj smiled softly at the sight of both of you. how long had this little game between you two been going on? a year? more maybe? what she knows for sure is that you really thought no one around you realized how obvious both of you were.

spencer seemed to believe that no one noticed the way his eyes lingered on the threshold right after you left a room, or the way his lips always turned upwards whenever someone brought up your name in a casual conversation. and you surely thought yourself sleek, thinking that nobody would notice how you always carried a small notebook where you wrote the names of theorists and research papers spencer mentioned, in hopes that, one day, you could catch up with his brain and you both could have a conversation in which somebody finally understood every single one of his references.

her chest felt warm as she watched the way you looked up at him, bright eyed and with a soft, loving smile pulling at your lips. spencer was talking—because of course he was—and you seemed to pay attention to each and every single one of his words, hanging onto them like they contained the key to eternal joy. at some point, he was brave enough to intertwine your pinkies over the table cloth and jj slapped will’s arm, subtly pointing at your hands with her chin. will’s eyebrows shot up.

“well, it’s about time,” he murmured, bringing his glass to his lips. jj laughed under her breath.

after paying the tab, the time came to leave the restaurant. not only had it not stopped raining, but what had started as calm and soft rain, had suddenly turned into a full-on storm. the sky would light up every couple of minutes, thunder breaking though soon after. jj and will were quick to pull out their umbrellas, holding their free hands.

“i had so much fun tonight, guys!” she said, smiling. will nodded next to her.

“we should repeat some other time. the four of us.”

“definitely,” spencer agreed as he started opening his umbrella. you did your best to hold up your pants so the bottom didn’t get completely soaked. jj noticed and looked at you worriedly.

“did you forget your umbrella?” she asked.

“yeah.” you sighed. “i left it on the kitchen counter this morning as i grabbed my lunch.”

“do you…” she was about to offer you hers, but she stopped in her tracks, looking at spencer over your shoulder. he didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. jj smiled at him. “nevermind.”

spencer nodded, thankful that his friend understood him without words. jj was one of the few people who actually understood spencer and how his brain worked.

“i’ll see you guys on monday, then. have a good night.”

“you too, jj. will, it was so good seeing you again.” you waved goodbye at them.

spencer and you stood there, staring at your friends as they both disappeared down the sidewalk. letting a contempt sigh out, you turned to spencer, who was already waiting for you with his dark umbrella open, offering his arm.

“oh, what a gentleman,” you joked, intertwining your arm with his.

only for you. “where did you park your car?” he asked, instead.

“oh, it’s a couple of blocks down the street. you don’t have to walk me there, really. it’s a long way and it’s raining like crazy. i’ll understand if…” for the first time, it was you babbling like crazy instead of him, and spencer thought he’d never found anything or anyone more adorable.

“i really want to walk you to your car, believe me. i’m not ready for this date to be over.”

you could feel your cheeks heat.

“god, spencer. have you been binge watching classic rom coms, or something like that?” you asked, glazing away from him, for fear he’d see exactly just how much you’d liked it.

“maybe.” he huffed a laugh. “you know i love researching for my passion projects.”

“is that what this is? a passion project?”

“the most important one i’ve ever faced so far. and i have several doctorates, so that should tell you something.”

that made you laugh, and spencer smiled at the sound. he readjusted the umbrella, so it covered you, never mind the left arm of his coat was already soaking wet.

“can i ask what your little research has consisted off?”

“well, i had the scientific base covered. you know, the physiological and chemical aspects of romantic interactions. how the human body reacts to the different chemical reactions happening in our brains.” he started going over some of his favorite scientific theories on love, and you couldn’t help but smile because you loved moments like these with him. “but i needed help with the rest.”

“what do you mean ‘the rest’?”

“i’ve never been good with words, much less with physical touch, specially the kind that would indicate physical attraction or a romantic interest.” he was so into his own mind, speaking so factually, that he didn’t seem to realize what he had just admitted out loud. “so i asked for help. morgan gave me some hints on how to talk and act, he taught me to read some of the signs that usually let him know the girls he’s talking to are interested in him. and penelope gave me a list of movies to watch.”

slowing your step, you asked, “can i ask what movies were on that list?”

“well, there were a couple of bridget jones’ movies. then there was also… oh, how to lose a guy in ten days. i actually really liked that one. but definitely one of my favorite ones of the list was four weddings and a funeral.”

that made you laugh out loud. penelope, you sneaky little….

“what? you don’t like it?” spencer asked, frowning down at you.

“no, no. it’s not that. that’s actually my favorite romance movie. it has been since i first watched it as a teen.”

“well, it is a very good movie.”

holding tighter onto his arm, you nodded. “it is.”

you continued walking towards your car, and the rain continued pouring. you could feel the water seeping into your shoes, the bottom of your work pants completely soaked and sticking to your ankles. but you didn’t care because, there, with your arm perfectly fitting into the crook of spencer’s and your steps matching, you could swear you had never felt more comfortable. so much so that when your red car appeared in the distance you hoped it would disappear or teleport a couple blocks further away, just so you had an excuse to remain close to him, hearing him talk and laugh and joke.

“here it is,” you said, looking around the parking for his car. “where’s…?”

“oh, mine’s all the way down that street.” he pointed right in the opposite direction you had come from.

eyes wide, you turned to his, with your back to your car, “are you crazy? spencer! i thought it’d be nearby. you didn’t have to walk me to my car if yours was all the way across from mine.”

he shrugged, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips. “i told you i wasn’t ready for this night to end.”

“but look at you, your coat is all wet, and your hair…” before you could even think about what you were doing, your hand flew to his har, brushing a couple of wet strands away from his eyes.

closing his eyes, he murmured, “worth it. it’s all worth it.”

now that you had let go of his arm, he took the chance to touch you again. he feared now that he’d discovered what your skin felt like, he couldn’t stop reaching for it. even if it was a soft, brief caress, like his thumb tracing lines along your jawline.

“do you still think that the idea of us dating is ridiculous?” he asked softly.

it was a genuine question, one that made you want to slap yourself. you let your head fall down to his chest, grunting.

“i shouldn’t have said that. i’m sorry. i didn’t meant it, i hope you know that. i just…” glancing back up at him, you sighed. “i was scared you’d think it was a ridiculous idea.”

“why would i think that? i’ve been dreaming of a night like this one for ages.”

blushing like a teenager, you hid in his chest again, and god did it feel like it was the perfect place to be. you could make yourself a home in it, to inhabit it for the rest of your life. “stop saying stuff like that.”

“why? you don’t like it?”

“i do. a lot. you’re going to kill me of a heart attack.”

he laughed and you felt it rumble against your cheek, and you swore you could die right there. when you finally rose and looked back at him you saw his beautiful brown eyes reflecting the loving and hopeful light in your own. for a spare second, your eyes dropped to his mouth. were kisses on the first date still frowned upon? if so, you’d like a word with whoever came up with that stupid rule. spencer’s hand gripped the umbrella tighter, like he was getting ready for something. then you heard him say: “can we do this again some other time? alone, maybe?”

you looked up to him, only to notice that his eyes were on your lips as well.

“yes. definitely.” you nodded, slowly.

he took a step closer.

“good.”

you lifted your chin up, a soft sigh escaping your lips. spencer felt it against his own and a shiver shook him.

“yeah, great.”

hand in yours, he smiled.

“get home safe, yeah?" you could only nod. ”call me when you arrive so i know you’re okay.”

“yeah,” you nodded, eyes still half closed. “yes, i will.”

spencer took one last look at your face, smiling softly, before giving you space to get in your car. he didn’t move from his spot until your car was no longer in his range of vision, and even then, he had to remain still for a bit to make sure that the fantasy wouldn’t break when he took the first step.

usually, that was how most of his dreams ended. the moment you left him and he tried to get back to his life, he’d wake up and realize that, yet again, he’d been dreaming of you. but not this time. tonight, when he took the first step to leave the open parking his vision didn’t get blurry and the buildings around him didn’t melt into nothingness. the rain continued pouring, his feet were still cold and wet. and his heart was still beating fast and hard.

he grinned to himself and started walking to his car. the whole time, he was flexing the hand that had held your cheek like he was scared to touch anything else and lose the feeling of your skin against his.

thanks for reading <3 likes & reblogs are appreciated !!

tags !! @siennnaaa1202 ; @kusanagisunshine-blog-blog ; @girllblogging777 ; @superbeaglewitch

[lovdigital]

I LOVE YOU, I’M SORRY . . .

౨ৎ megumi is injured at school and needs his papa

cw – hurt/comfort, petnames (lovey, sweetheart), toji’s good parenting, mentions of the zenin clan (minor), proud dad toji

𝓢ince Toji had started to pick up more shifts at the agency, you were picking Megumi up from daycare most afternoons. You didn’t mind, in fact, you quite enjoyed spending time with the toddler and he seemed to like you too.

Just like you had been, you pulled into the parking lot and got out of your car with a sweet smile on your lips. You chatted with Yuji and Sukuna’s mother who had become a good friend while the other mother’s were envious of your relationship with Toji. The two of you walked into the centre together as you spoke.

“And how is that going?” Kaori asked with a hum, covering her mouth slightly with her hand. She was referring to Toji and his job.

“It’s good,” you nodded and rubbed your arm. “He’s tired a lot but he still makes time for Megumi and I. It’s nice but I hate to see him overwork himself this way.” You paused and realised she was laughing at you. “I– I didn’t mean it like that! He doesn’t need to make time for me, I just–“

Kaori looked concerned as you both reached the kids’ classroom, she was looking through the window.

“Megumi’s crying,” she spoke almost in disbelief.

“What?” You whipped around immediately and gasped, nerves twisting. You had been in Megumi’s life for a good few months and you had never seen him cry, not even when he’d scraped his knees.

You hurried into the classroom and over to the teacher’s desk where Megumi was sitting next to her on a chair with his hand covering his forehead. He really was crying, tears running down his chubby cheeks as he sobbed and sniffled.

“Oh my goodness!” You gasped and walked over, “what happened?”

You picked Megumi up and gently kissed his head, setting him on your hip as he lifted his arms up at you. His teacher frowned and pointed to a little girl with shirt hair in the corner. “We had a punching incident. Megumi was good, he didn’t punch back and when I asked why he said he didn’t want to hit girls.”

“Why did she punch him?” You asked as you stroked Megumi’s hair, his head in your neck as he sniffled and one hand fisted your shirt tightly.

“I’m not entirely sure what started it,” she sighed with a frown as she shook her head. “That’s Mai Zenin, Megumi’s cousin– well, Aunt, technically.”

“R– Right,” you nodded, a little confused. Toji hadn’t really mentioned his family apart from his late wife but you knew he had a rocky relationship with them.

Megumi had fallen asleep in your arms, crying himself to sleep. You wondered what must’ve caused the incident the whole way home as you kept an eye on Megumi while he slept. It was a strange situation considering his teacher said that Mai had never been hostile towards him before.

When you finally arrived back at the complex, Toji’s truck wasn’t in the parking lot and you remembered he had to work late today. You sighed as you got Megumi out of his carseat and took him up to your apartment, laying him on the couch.

As he slept, you turned on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for when he woke up (one of his fixations lately) as you took it upon yourself to make an afternoon snack.

You were in the kitchen, peeping in to check on the toddler every few minutes as you cut up some apples and strawberries. You stopped what you were doing, hearing it first. Little feet and sniffles moving toward you – then, a little hand pulling at your flowy skirt.

“Hi baby,” you cooed and picked him up again, frowning and wiping more tears from his cheeks. “What’s wrong, little one?”

“Where Papa?” He asked through hiccups as he whined softly, pout on his lips.

You sighed as you gently moved his hair away from his eyes. “He’s still at work, sweetie. He should be home later, okay?”

The toddler didn’t like that answer beginning to cry harder. “Wan’ him!” He sobbed as he threw himself about in your arms before smacking his head onto your shoulder. “Wan’ Daddy!”

You weren’t sure what to do. You’d taken care of children like this plenty of times before but Megumi was different. He didn’t cry, especially not like this. Against your better judgement, you went to sit on the couch with Megumi to call Toji.

You dialed his number, praying you’d get a response as you heard the soft noises of the call tone.

“Hey lovey,” you heard a gruff voice on the other line after a soft tone letting you know the call had been answered. “I’m just about finished here, what’s the matter?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Toji,” you mumbled guiltily as you rubbed Megumi’s back. “There was an incident as daycare today… Megs is a bit upset and I think he really needs you back here…”

“Uh, okay. I’ll be home soon, Sweetheart. I’ll be finished in another hour or so.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, “yeah, okay. Um.. he– he’s just… he’s crying so–“

“He’s what?!” Toji sounded like he was panicking on the other side of the phone, things clattering around and you heard a zip. “I’m coming home right now.”

“What? I thought you said–“

“Forget that! Megumi doesn’t cry. I’m coming home.”

Your eyes widened slightly, pulling the phone away from your ear as the call disconnected. In a way, you were relieved.

“Comin’ home?” Megumi asked with a sniffle as he looked up at you with watery eyes, your hand still rubbing his back ever so gently.

“Yeah, baby, he’s coming home.”

Megumi instantly perked up as he heard your front door open, the waterworks starting up again as he saw his father walk through the door. He ran over to him as he cried, “Papa!”

Toji dropped his duffel bag and picked his little boy up to hug him. He squeezed him so tight, looking flustered and like he’d just ran a thousand miles.

“What happened, Meg?” He asked, using a nickname that was actually somewhat appropriate for once.

He looked over at you for some answers, walking towards you with the toddler and gently wrapping an arm around your waist to kiss your head.

“Mai punch me!” Megumi cried as he sniffed, nose running.

“Tch,” Toji scoffed, jaw clenching as he gently took the tissue you offered him to wipe Megumi’s nose. “I hate those rotten kids.”

Before berating the girl any further, Toji stopped for a second and asked Megumi, “you didn’t hit her back, did you?” Almost like he was ready to scold his son.

“He didn’t,” you assured him with a gentle touch to his bicep. “Told his teacher he didn’t want to hit girls.”

Toji smiled and gave an approving nod, ruffling Megumi’s hair before kissing his cheek. “That’s my boy.”

©lovdigital. do not copy, translate, or claim my writing as your own, use for ai bots etc. 🪽

[ume17]

Memories turned sour

multi char drabble. i wasn't planning on writing anything but I saw this reel and it just popped in my head. many wips left but whatever now. I named the son. it just felt right

warnings; fluff. suggestive content.

Your husband was always recording you and your son- watching it together, years later, the footage is not what you expected it to be

You’d always see your husband recording you and your son. Day-to-day activities like having lunch, making dinner, folding the laundry together, and sometimes even brushing your teeth. What you thought was a simple attachment and a way to capture these little moments turned out to be something way, way, way- far from the truth. 

This only came to light when your son, in his late teens, decided to view his childhood pictures stored on the family pc. What you thought would be a day full of laughter and reminiscing old times turned into your husband smiling like a madman while your son looks at both of you in disgust. 

Because, pray, why is there hours worth of footage of you- a full scan of your figure (especially zooming at the rear) - backside and front- sometimes in sweats, sometimes in your old mom jeans- sometimes your hair perfectly parted to even the times you look like you need to have at least 6 baths. All under the guise of  what looks like an innocent and memorable moment between a mother and her child. 

What is worth mentioning is how swiftly the camera moves from your son to you. A small babbling child to a grown ass woman.

“ did you really have to ruin my day?” the said child groans, “ forget my day- I think you’ve ruined all my childhood memories!!”

And if there were an award for the least bothered face in humanity, your husband should have gotten it. 

“What do you mean? Those are videos of you as a child? Did you want me to take more?” he speaks as if those videos were really what they claimed to be. “We can still continue, you are our little boy at the end of the day.”

A red face out of anger? Embarrassment? Hikaru but only storms away. With muttering

“Videos of me? Or you ogling your wife?”

Even with all this, your husband only pulls you closer by the waist, whispering,

”he’s got a bit of temper right? I think it’s time we give him a little sister to calm him down.”

He has definitely hit his head. One more push towards the headrest won’t hurt him, right?

 Pushing him, and getting up, “ get yourself checked”

“To try for junior two?”

“For a mental check-up!”

 Walking towards the kitchen, you hear something along the lines of “I’ll record more videos of the younger one!!”

-Suna Rintaro, Kuroo Tetsuroo, Kageyama tobio( idc in my headcanon he is downbad for her), SUgawara Koushi, Futakuchi Kenji, Tanaka Ryounsoke, Nishinoya yu( i really can't see him as a dad tho), Atsumu Miya, Yaku?, Oikawa Toru, Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki, Taketora, Not tendo? or tendo? i don't really read much of his fics,

blue lock- Karasu?, oliver aiku? sue me i've never read anything past s2, Reo Mikage, sae?( i see the zooming shit but he's def not gonna be so playful bout it), chigiri??

aot- connie? jean maybe ?

there's more but i'm feeling like shit rn. I'll edit this later.