#and showed up at her house with a flower to ask her because he likes her

[hedgehog-moss]

I volunteered to help the florist with her Mother's Day deliveries today, it was fun! My favourite parts of the experience:

early this morning I delivered flowers to women who were busy with morning farm chores, usually out in the barn; some had forgotten it was Mother's Day and were pleasantly surprised to see me show up holding a bunch of flowers above my head (so it wouldn't get eaten by barn animals on the way)

speaking of: one woman let a cow smell the flowers, then said "they're probably treated with chemicals—better not have a taste" with an apologetic look (at her cow)

a little boy opened the door at one point and I said, flowers for your mum! and he called her and while waiting for her to come downstairs, he said, "I learnt a Mother's Day poem at school", so I said, let's hear it! And apparently he hadn't expected that, and he lit up upon realising he would get higher returns on his poem investment than expected. He thought he'd recited it once and it was over but here was a fresh new audience!

a woman whom I found at the back of her garden hanging out with ducks deplored the fact that she didn't have a coin in her pocket for a tip, then said "Do you want to see my baby pigeons?" Yes of course I want to see your baby pigeons. That's a good tip

I delivered a bouquet to someone and a woman next door, who was in her garden, turned to the open window of her house and said, "[Neighbour's name] got flowers! For MOTHER'S DAY."

I later had to return to that street after a last-minute order was placed to this woman's address. Whomever she was talking to inside the house got the message loud and clear :)

at one point I entered a barn that seemed empty (except for cows), said "Is anyone here?" and a goat SPRUNG UP out of nowhere and poked me with her hoof and gave me a heart attack

I returned to the shop and the florist let me pick a couple of plants as thanks, and we had the usual conversation—"Would this cheerful yellow plant thrive in my house?" "No. Your house is under 10°C. Try this one instead." Me: "This one isn't yellow :( It's more austere" Her: "So is your house" (She entered my non-heated kitchen in December once, and ever since I've been trying to convince her that it's not always like that) (just six months per year)

as I sat in the shop waiting for more bouquets to deliver, a man came in to buy roses and the florist started wrapping a ribbon around the bunch and the man asked, could you put a ribbon around each rose? I said aw they're for several mums? :) And he said yeah—that he was going to visit his mum at the retirement home and he wanted to get something "for all her friends too, why not!" It made everyone smile

admiring the florist's skill as she quickly put together a bouquet for a new order, I said something like "at least AI won't steal your job" and she said "with quantum computing, you don't know... not sure what it is but I read an article and it sounded scary." I said, I heard it's still impractical because the quantum computer particles need to be kept in very cold environments, like close to absolute zero, and she said "Quantum plants would thrive in your house."

Florist: "I'll accompany you for this delivery because the person who filled the form gave a 'turn left after the third mossy rock'-type of address"

I was invited at her house for lunch, and I asked warily "Does your husband still have swans?" She said "No, we only kept the geese. We have just 3. They're evil too but not as bad as the swans"

one of my favourite interactions was when I delivered flowers in a hamlet that could fit in my pocket, and a young girl who came to the door asked me in what village I lived, and I said, it's not a village, just a lone house in the woods, and she sighed "I wish I could live away from civilisation." I looked around us. Asked, how many people live in this village? She said, "Sixty." I said, "That's too many?" She said, "Yeah."

Final stats for today: I was offered a coffee 4 times, Mother's Day chocolates 2 times, and 1 meeting with baby pigeons; was startled by 1 goat and terrorised by 3 geese; petted 2 windowsill cats, and was asked if Pampérigouste was currently in her pasture 4 times.

[rbfclassy]

more ex husband toji plsssss

BABY DADDY TOJI! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons of baby daddy!toji

INFO...baby daddy!toji x fem!reader, toji is also your ex husband, little bit of angst, some fluff, toxic!toji, reader and toji have a daughter, toji is a good dad, possessiveness, arguing, oral (f!receiving), p in v, mentions of marriage, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

baby daddy!toji who is quite literally annoying, always bothering you when he comes over to pick up his daughter. He’ll make jokes about you, constantly poke you. You swear he’s like a big man child

baby daddy!toji who constantly has women wrapped around his arm every few months, and as much as you tell him you don’t want your daughter around that he never listens to you because why would he?

baby daddy!toji who is also your ex husband, little do you know he always keeps his ring in his pocket

baby daddy!toji who still has a soft spot for you. No matter how many arguments or fights your guys get into he is always right behind you in every situation. You called him one night crying because you were stranded at a bar, scared. Toji nearly ran out the house barefoot to come and pick you up

baby daddy!toji who isn’t afraid to say you still look sexy to him. Hand always caressing your cheek before you swat it away and ask him, “don’t you got a girl?” Oh yeah, he does

baby daddy!toji whose relationships never last longer than 2-3 months because they’re simply not you. He knows he’ll never be able to replace you but he still tries (he ends up giving up)

baby daddy!toji who spoils his baby girl, buying her toys, clothes, shoes, whatever she wants. He loves seeing her cute smile and chubby cheeks because she looks just like you

baby daddy!toji who hates how toxic you and him are to each other which ultimately ended up in the downfall of your marriage. But besides that, you two were perfect together and he misses that

baby daddy!toji who loses his shit when he find out through gojo that you’re going on a date with someone. He pulls up to your house banging on the door before you swing it open. He’s barging in, slamming your door shut and y’all instantly get into a heated argument. “Don’t be slamming my doors, Toji! You don’t pay for shit in this house!” You yell, a scowl on your face. “I don’t give a fuck! When were you gonna tell me you were fucking somebody else?!” You weren’t even fucking the guy, you didn’t even get to go out on a date with him yet.

baby daddy!toji who let’s you go out on your date, but he knows he ruined your mood, mentally cursing at himself for being so possessive over you. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s texting you ‘even if we aren’t together you’re still mine’ while you’re on your date. He doesn’t give a shit if the guy sees

baby daddy!toji who shows up to your house unannounced, early in the morning to apologize. “I’m sorry for how I acted, mamas. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Your knees are pushed to your chest as his tongue is lapping at your clit, long drawn out moans filling the room, your fingers entangled in his hair. “Mmmm, I hate you so much,” You whimper, legs twitching as the pleasurable sensation. “Shhh, just let me make you feel good.”

baby daddy!toji who has your favorite flowers sent to your door as another apology, a note written on the small card asking if you forgive him yet

baby daddy!toji who gets sad whenever your daughter asks why you and him aren’t together anymore, letting a sigh because he knows she’s too young to understand. It’s times like these where he wishes you and him could be happy together. “Let’s just say daddy has been mean to mommy a few times.”

baby daddy!toji who always shows up to the parent events and shows. His baby girl is being featured in a play? He’s there in the audience with you. She’s getting an award for student of the month? He’s right there congratulating her. If he can’t be the best boyfriend, he sure as hell is gonna be the best father

baby daddy!toji who notices the moments when you feel insecure about yourself, noticing the days when you’re quiet and more reserved, noticing how you hide away from him when he picks up your daughter. You’ve been having insecurity issues ever since giving birth to your baby girl and toji hates that you can’t see how good you look all of the time. “That outift looks good on you, might have to give Mia another sibling,” he says with a smile. “Toji!” You gasp, playfully smacking his arm. But he sees that smile on your face and hopes he made your day a little better

baby daddy!toji who got too drunk one night and crashed at your place in the middle of night. He was drunkenly babbling as you were taking care of him. “I miss us. You were my girl. You still are my girl,” he spoke. His words made you freeze as you stopped and stared at him for a moment. “You’re drunk, Toji.” You shook your head. He meant every word he said

baby daddy!toji who pops up when he gets a late night text from you asking him to come over. He’s there in a flash, never able to deny you. You two on each other the minute he walks through the door, sloppily kissing each other while he carries you to the bedroom

baby daddy!toji who can fuck you slow and sensual or fast and rough. His favorite position is missionary so he can look at your pretty face while you cum on his dick for the third time. “Missed me, mamas?” He asks, breathless. You nod with a whimper, eyes searching his, the tip of his dick rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust of his hips. “Oh fuck, I missed you too.”

baby daddy!toji who swears up and down you’ll be the best he’s ever had, literally wifey material in his eyes. You’re beautiful, amazing personality, a good mother, makes him laugh, and you got good pussy. It’s all worth it when you drive him crazy or make him upset. What more could he ask for? One day he’ll put a ring on it

baby daddy!toji who is big on cuddling. This man is a tank, beefy as hell. Who are you to deny a cuddle from him? He’ll wrap you up in his arms after a bad day or after sex and you just fall asleep instantly

baby daddy!toji who stares down any man that look at you when you ask him to take you to run some errands. If looks could kill, multiple people would be dead. He doesn’t like how they’re practically stripping you with their eyes and having sex with you in their head. Only he can do such a thing—in real life too

baby daddy!toji who gains the courage to talk to you and ask if you’re willing to try again with him and be a family. You’re his forever girl no matter the stupid arguments or situations. He’s scared of what you’ll say but he just needs to know or it’ll always be a dying question in his mind. So, would you?

[charliemwrites]

Part 2!

Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.

Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)

Agatha is over again.

You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.

A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.

Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.

“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.

You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.

“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.

She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.

“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”

People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.

“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.

Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”

You blink. Men…?

A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)

Ah. Those men.

“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”

It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.

“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”

You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.

“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.

“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”

Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.

“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”

That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.

“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”

You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.

Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.

“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”

You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.

“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”

She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.

Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.

It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.

Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.

“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”

And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.

And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.

Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.

Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.

“So… the cookies were good then?”

“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.

“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“

“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.

Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)

“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.

You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”

He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”

Well shit.

“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”

Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”

It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.

There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.

Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.

You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.

Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.

You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.

“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.

He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.

“What happened?” he asks.

You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.

“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”

You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.

“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.

Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.

“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”

When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.

“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”

With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.

You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.

“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.

He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”

You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”

“Nein,” he snorts.

Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.

There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.

“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”

“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”

You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?

It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.

“Are you guys military?”

“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.

You perk up. “Wait, really?”

He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”

You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”

He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.

“Yes,” he answers slowly.

“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”

His eyes narrow. “Questions?”

You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”

Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.

He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”

You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.

“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”

“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.

You beam. “Thank you!”

He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.

“What else needs doing?”

Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.

Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.

You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.

Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.

You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.

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Masterlist

[rafeandonlyrafe]

baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

--

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.” 

--

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

-- 

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

--

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @soilderpoetandking @auryyz

[waldau-archived]

giving them the silent treatment when they forget something — seventeen | 2,661 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

first work in this format! comments would be really appreciated :D

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

seungcheol

cannot stand your silence. he'd rather you scold him, or say anything to him, but he absolutely hates the silence that fills your house when he stops talking. he's thankful you're sitting across him while he's having dinner, but keeps interrupting his eating by asking for your forgiveness over and over. how could he forget your date night tonight? knows you need your personal space and makes you sit at the table while he does the dishes, but he gives in at the end of the day because what's the point of sleeping in the same bed if he can't wrap his arms around you? keeps whispering apologies into your hair and promises not to be this forgetful again. literally lights up when you turn around with a grumble and slot yourself into his arms. is okay with you being upset with him as long as you let him hold you.

jeonghan

thinks it's payback for the time he hid the last of your snacks a week ago. is fine with you rolling your eyes at him when he calls you by your nickname. realizes it's serious when you share your dessert with him, because you never do it without a little playful fight. realizes he's messed up big time when you don't retort back to his teasing about how your hair looks right now, after you've spent some time rolling around in bed. the final straw is when you wish him goodnight without even calling him any form of endearment. suddenly understands why you're being like this — it's because he left for practice without waking you up this morning, even though you asked him to. peppers you with kisses and it's only a matter of time before you stop resisting. tries explaining that your health and your sleep are more important to him than his own, but he's thankful you wake up with him the next morning and prepare breakfast for him while he gets ready.

joshua

is a gentleman. 99.99% of the time. but the 0.01% he's not is today, when he forgot to buy a bouquet of flowers you wanted to take while visiting your mother. he'd assured you he'd do the task because the flower shop lay right in the path he took while jogging, and now you've returned home with no smile on your face. there's a thousand apologies at the tip of his tongue, but none of them are going to be enough. you wish him a good night, but he knows he's messed up pretty bad. hates it when you don't even say anything about it, because he knows it's affected you more than you're letting it show. gets a call from you the next afternoon asking him why there's a bouquet of flowers on your desk and why your mother also had one delivered to her doorstep. picks you up from work and surprises you with a single rose that he tucks behind your ear, brushing away your concerns about it looking silly. loves you, and he'll get you flowers every day if it makes you smile the way you're doing right now.

junhui

is not used to one word answers from you. he watches you a bit closely as you take off your shoes, wash your hands, get a glass from the cupboard and pour yourself some water. feels like you're giving the glass more attention than him. starts feeling nervous. around you. hates it more than anything. but he doesn't know what's wrong, so he ends up doing something that flusters you both — he cages you in his arms, because he'd much rather you tell him off than push him away silently. you try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he pulls out his c-drama moves of seduction and slams his hand against the wall behind your head. you just stare at him before you shake your head and tell him he didn't kiss you goodbye this morning. he feels absolutely shocked. he did! or at least he thought he did. you're always on his mind, regardless of the time of the day. kisses you five times to make up for the one he didn't give you. sticks close to you for the rest of the night, as it's his rightful place.

soonyoung

is oblivious at first. he's the more talkative one between you both, so he doesn't find anything wrong when you come back home, or don't give him the usual kiss you do when you come back home — you're probably just too tired! guides you to the dining table and makes sure you're eating well. talks about practice, talks about this photoshoot that's coming up, talks about this interview he'd given earlier in the day, around afternoon, which made him super hungry because— well, shit. he was supposed to bring your lunch to work because you'd forgotten to take it yourself, and you'd even texted him about it. he promised he would, and now he's left wondering what you had to get for yourself because of his forgetfulness. throws himself to his knees in front of you and grabs your thighs, shaking you like it's going to transfer the sorrow he's feeling into you so that you can forgive him. loves that you crack a smile before you hide it and continue having dinner. promises to wake up early next morning so he can be the one to make you lunch and pack it. loves the sight of the empty box he sees when he calls you during your break.

wonwoo

feels like absolute crap when you get home and all he has to show you for his time spent is the game he's finished and a regrettable lack of food on the table. he'd promised to cook for you, this recipe he'd taken from mingyu just so he could try it himself. he'd even laughed at your surprised face in the morning, but now he thinks you were right to have doubted him. it's not even time for your usual grocery run yet; you're pretty much out of groceries because his friends had come home a couple days back and you'd spent time making a lot of dishes. sits you down and makes you eat a banana as a peace offering, all the while ordering takeout from the closest eatery to your house. sits with you and feeds you bites of your meal, not touching his own till you're done. still feels terrible when he sees you putting away the leftovers, because you're not supposed to be doing that in the first place. comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring apologies in your ear and asking if you want him to get you anything else. wakes you up to breakfast in bed the next morning. you laugh and tell him you're not willing to have breakfast without brushing your teeth, so he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. he thinks he should make time on his days off for breakfast in bed if it means you'll cling to him the way you're doing now, adoration in your eyes.

jihoon

is just in his chill™ mode half the time he's home. when he's not working, he's either listening to music or watching your favourite shows together to maximize the time he has with you. for jihoon, and you, actions are more prevalent than words. so it's with a sudden drop of his stomach that he realizes he was supposed to wait for you, till you came back home, to start watching this new anime you'd been keen on seeing. he can't exactly undo the past three episodes from his memory, so he's also silent like you are when you get back home and see what he's been up to. dinner is had in an awkward silence till you push your chair back and take the plate to the sink, letting jihoon know you're turning in for an early night. he knows he's fucked up. he's glad you're not kicking him out on the couch to sleep, and he apologizes by softly humming a song he's been working on for you, in the silence of your bedroom. it's like he's wearing his heart on his sleeve, too easy for anyone to see, but it's worth it when you sigh and pull him down for a kiss, telling him it sounds wonderful and that you can't wait to hear the full thing.

minghao

is disappointed with himself already, and you being disappointed makes it worse. he could blame jet lag for being the reason why he forgot to show up at the cafe to meet your friend you've been him to get to know for a while, but he knows it's a flimsy excuse. you cover up for him with the excuse of a fever, even though he's far from feeling down. doesn't know what he can say to make it better, so he peels an orange for you. only to have his heart hurt when you say you're not hungry. but you end up taking a few slices anyway, because you don't want it to go to waste. tries to pull you into himself but hates it when you don't reciprocate. he knows this friend is important to you, but are they so important that you have to ignore him for the rest of the night? offers to sleep on the couch, and is surprised to find that's what breaks your silence and makes you glare at him. promises to fly you out soon to meet your friend where they live as an apology. wakes up to you combing your fingers through his hair.

mingyu

puppy #1. knows he's done something wrong the moment you step inside the hallway of your house, even if you've said nothing — mainly because you're not rushing to him the way you always do, and you're not excited to see him, the way he is to see you. takes all the stuff from your hands and makes you sit on the couch and offers you a massage and pouts when you decline him gently. tries making conversation with you during dinner, but gets discouraged when you reply in short sentences. you're not...angry, but you're upset, and it's bugging him terribly. offers to help you with your nighttime routine, sitting on the counter and watching you go about it, until you sigh and tell him exactly what he forgot about. your plants in the balcony that he promised to water this morning and forgot about because he had to rush for an early practice. he throws himself to the floor on his knees, hands clasped, and promises never to forget it again. feels relieved when you laugh through a mouth full of toothpaste, pulling him to his feet and ruffling his hair. his alarm now has a label that reads: "plants :)"

seokmin

puppy #2. can feel his smile drop the second you walk through the door of your shared house drenched in water like you fell into a puddle and climbed out. and the worst part is you're not even asking him to help you dry up. he tries to offer you towels and fusses about your hair and you catching a cold but ends up sitting against the door of your shared bedroom when you gently push him out of your way and opt for a nice, warm shower. he's glad he ordered takeout so that you wouldn't have to cook, but he's not happy with the way you're ignoring him. no, you're not ignoring him. you're...disappointed, almost. somehow it's worse than having you be angry with him, because he knows fights can be resolved sooner or later. but you being disappointed in him? makes him feel like the worst person in the world. heats up your blanket in the dryer and gives you his hoodie to sleep in. he's never going to take your umbrella to practice again. drags you out to shop for two distinct umbrellas so he never forgets to send you off with one again.

seungkwan

he's busy. it's not an excuse; it's just how his daily schedule is. yet it sounds like nothing but a pathetic excuse when you get back home, avoiding even looking at him. you look amazing, and he wasted his entire afternoon wondering when you were going to call him, when you were out watching a movie he'd suggested the two of you watch together. hates it when you tell him you've had enough popcorn to make you skip dinner. hates it when you don't even hug him, much less kiss him. hates it when you have a polite conversation with him about the movie, as if you were just his friend telling him you liked his recommendation. you sit with him and watch a volleyball match he'd pre-recorded, but his mind is not interested in the commentary at all. pouts. straight up asks you how long you're going to ignore him. you say you're not, that you just need some time now to get over it. he nods like he understands but wraps himself around you barely twenty minutes later when you're getting ready for bed. will not sleep without coming to any kind of resolution. asks you to spoil the movie for him as a punishment and gets a pinch to his cheek in return. promises never to forget a date again.

hansol

is also oblivious. takes your silence as a sign that you're just tired, so he makes sure you freshen up and don't do any work for a while and have some water or light snacks instead. it's only when he puts on a movie you've both watched many times he realizes you're not talking to him, because you don't lean into him the way you usually do. he takes the initiative this time and tries pulling you on his lap, but you resist. he feels uncomfortable, and it's new. he tries focusing on the movie but his mind is on you, and it's only because of the sheer number of times he's seen the movie that he can remember the dialogues without paying attention. it's only when the main characters get into a car and start driving that he realizes he'd promised to pick you up from your friend's party. immediately switches off the movie because he knows you're not paying attention either, and kneels in front of you and looks into your eyes till you blush and look away. brings your head back in place with his fingers on your chin and asks you to remind him when he forgets so that he doesn't have a chance to let you down again. holds your hand through the night when you sleep. clings to you a bit more whenever you're home.

chan

devastated. at himself, at you for not reminding him that he'd forgotten to pick up your outfit from the dry cleaner's last night, at the fact that you're not even scolding him. hates that you won't even look at him except to give him some space to move around in the kitchen. having twelve older brothers, he's used to being kept in shape by them and remembering a lot of things about all of them, so why couldn't he remember this small thing you'd asked him to do? compliments you on how good you look, and is physically hurt when you just nod at him with a small thanks. asks if there's anything he can help you with. hates that you shake your head and say you're just going to read a book. tries making you laugh but ends up embarrassing himself when he trips on the bathroom mat and ends up diving into the bathroom face first. it's not funny, but it gets a smile out of you, and he thinks he's on the path to getting your forgiveness. won't go to sleep till you run your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee

[bruisedboys]

can I request remus and anxious!reader where he asks her to be his, but she is worried that remus will think that she is too much to take care of?

thank you for your request angel!! this was fun to write <3

remus lupin x fem!anxious!reader, 1.3k words

Remus turns up unannounced at your door with a huge bouquet of flowers. You think you know where this is going.

“Hey,” he says, smiling a brilliant smile that sets your heart aflame. “You look nice. Can I come in?”

You don’t look nice, at least not in your opinion. You’re in your pyjamas, a loose tank and a pair of flannel pants, fresh out of the shower with your damp hair hanging limp over your shoulders. But you can’t not let him in. You like him too much.

“Uh— sure. Yeah, come in. Sorry about the mess.” You kick a stray shoe to the side to prevent him tripping in your doorway, embarrassed.

“Don’t start,” he tells you, fondly exasperated as he toes off his shoes. He closes the door behind him and then turns back to you, holding the bouquet out. “These are for you, by the way.”

You’d guessed. Still, you’re very very happy to get them. He’s given you flowers before, ones he’s picked on the way to your place or a rose, once, on your last birthday, but never a bouquet. You take it from him, fingers brushing his at the stalks.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You can’t imagine how much they cost him. It’s the fullest bouquet you’ve ever seen, petals bursting out of the tissue paper in pretty pinks and whites and creams. You don’t try to fight the smile working it’s way onto your lips. “They’re really pretty.”

Remus grins and raises one shoulder in a shrug. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

“Remus,” you whine, heat building in your cheeks at an alarming rate.

Remus laughs, surprised. “What?”

You glare, fierce as you can when you’re so infatuated with him. He’s making this hard for you and he knows it. “Nothing. Come on, come through, I’ll find a vase.”

You lead the way through your entryway and into the kitchen. Remus sits at your kitchen island and watches while you find a vase for your flowers and fill it with water from the tap. You feel his gaze like laser beams and try not to think about how much skin your pyjama top is showing right now, how much you don’t actually care because you want him to look at you.

“Stop looking at me,” you say anyway, though you know he won’t listen.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Typical.

“You’re awful.”

“Thanks, gorgeous.”

You sigh and finish setting up your flowers, setting them on the kitchen island. Remus smiles at you like a fool when you meet his eyes.

“Do you want a drink?” You ask, desperate to do something other than be under his gaze.

“No. I want to ask you something.”

Your heart stutters. This could go a million ways and you’re not sure which way you’d prefer. You sit down across from him and try not to fall right off your chair.

“Okay,” you say quietly, playing with your hands, pulling at your fingers. “Ask away, then.”

Remus doesn’t say anything right away. He slides his hands across the counter and pushes them over yours, stopping your mindless fiddling. You let him take your hands in his. They’re warm, rough but soft in the places that count. His fingers thread through yours and your heart does a backflip.

“Look at me?” He asks, voice soft as silk. You’re glad he’s stopped joking around but somehow his sweet patience is worse.

You look up, meeting his eyes. Remus beams.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

You huff a laugh through your nose. “Hi,” you say back.

Remus strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “Look, I’m not gonna beat around the bush,” he says, words measured as if he’s being careful to not worry you. You both despise and adore how patient he is with you. “I want to ask you something, and if you don’t like it, please feel free to kick me out of your house. Okay?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, wondering if the hammering of your heart is for a good reason or a bad. “I’m not gonna kick you out of my house, Remus.”

“You might.”

You shake your head firmly. “I won’t.”

Remus takes a deep breath, and you watch his chest rise and fall.

“I really like you,” he says. “And as much as I enjoy being friends, I think I’d like to be more.”

You blink. You can barely open your mouth, feeling like your lips have been glued shut. “More?” You manage.

Remus nods. “Yeah.”

You don’t know why but you suddenly feel like crying. You’re not oblivious, you’d known Remus liked you at least a little bit more than just a friend. You’ve gone over this moment countless times in your head, content with it happening in your head but never in real life. You’re a fish out of water. You swallow.

“Remus,” you say, trying not to sound like you’re rejecting him. “I … I don’t know.”

Remus blinks.

“Not— I mean, it’s not because of you,” you say in a desperate rush. You untangle your hands from his and wrap your fingers around his wrists instead. “I like you, Remus. You know I do. It’s just— I don’t think you’d … I’m a lot of work,” you finish dejectedly.

Remus gives you a looks like a kicked puppy. “What? Y/N, that doesn’t—“

“No, listen, Remus,” you say, desperate for him to understand. “I’m not— I wouldn’t be a good girlfriend. You already do so much for me, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to do more.” Remus knows about your anxiety. It’s one of the reasons you like him so much, because he knows and doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t treat you any differently for it. Still, “You’d get tired of me.”

Remus genuinely looks like he might cry. He releases your hands and gets up, and for one terrifying second you think he’s leaving you, that he’s already sick of you and your worries, that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. But he only rounds the kitchen island and gets so close to you you can smell his cologne.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asks in a soft murmur. “Please?”

You nod. Remus only hesitates for a half a second before wrapping his arms around you, pulling your head to his stomach, a hand in your damp hair. He’s warm and firm, tall, all-encompassing. He’s hugged you before but never like this. Never like he wants to hold all the pieces of you together in case you fall apart. You might just.

You weasel your arms around his tummy and try not to squeeze too hard. Remus strokes the back of your head, once, twice, three times. He doesn’t seem to mind your wet hair, the dampness slowly soaking into his soft t-shirt.

“Sweetheart,” he says gently. “I want you to know that none of that matters to me. Only you matter. I don’t care if I have to look after you, I wouldn’t care if I had to carry you around like a log everywhere we went. I want to look after you.”

You squeeze him harder.

“I don’t want to burden you,” you say into his t-shirt.

Remus makes a sad noise and pulls back, hands climbing to your neck. He encourages your face from his stomach gently, fingers pushing your hair out of the way so he can cup your jaw.

“You won’t be a burden,” he says. “You’re not. I like you just the way you are. I could never get tired of you, honey. Every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time all over again.”

There’s a pause in which you look at each other, a lot of big, beautiful feelings in the way you study each other’s faces. Your heart pounds in your chest. You know your decision has already been made, was probably made the second he appeared at your door, maybe the moment you met him however long ago. He’s lovely, the best person you’ve ever met. You like him enough to put aside your worries and be with him, if that’s what he wants.

And it is what he wants. Suddenly you feel so happy you could burst.

“Okay,” you say hoarsely, emotion thick in your throat. You nod, not caring how desperate you look. “Yes.”

Remus’ answering smile is bruising. “Yeah?” He says, pleased and almost as giddy as you. His eyes light up like stars and you know you could’ve never said no to him. “You’ll be mine? Let me look after you for ever and ever?”

A giggle bubbles out of you before you can stop it. You beam up at him. “Only if you let me look after you, too.”

Remus thumbs the hollow under your eye slowly, his touch like fireworks along your skin, leaning close like he’s gonna kiss you. You’re surprised to realise you really, really want him to.

“I think that can be arranged.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[mahgyu]

For valentines, what happens if reader gets a secret confession but it’s not from the jjk man who was going to confess? Would they be jealous? Confess anyway? Not confess?

JJK Men: Secret Admirer

• — You receive a Valentine's Day gift from an anonymous person but they have deeper feelings for you.

๑ Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna.

๑ Content: Fem!Reader, SFW, relationship not established, fluff

๑ a/n: First, thank you very much to everyone who sent an ask with suggestions, I really was super happy reading each one of them and I intend to write them soon. Second, I should have posted this sooner but I ended up getting too busy (*crying*) anyway, I hope you like it. It was a little long but that's a detail.

⸺ㅤGOJO

Gojo was extremely happy and confident when he saw you approaching him with a heart-shaped box of chocolates. He never imagined that you also had the idea of waiting to confess on Valentine's Day, let alone that you would reciprocate his feelings. However, the wide smile gradually faded as you told him about the box of chocolates and the anonymous note that were mysteriously left on his desk. He could barely conceal his obvious disappointment, but he would maintain his usual laid-back attitude. Gojo became curious to learn more about the sudden confession, likely from one of his coworkers, and even tried to joke about it, hiding any jealousy behind his charm and confidence. But believe me, he'll spend quite a few days looking suspiciously at all his fellow sorcerer colleagues (just like that scene of him on the plane). He might even encourage you to follow your feelings, but always saying that you're capable of achieving something much better, like him, for example.

⸺ㅤGETO

Geto would be more reserved in expressing his feelings about this, but deep down, he would feel a twinge of jealousy and disappointment. Geto couldn't help but feel uneasy when he saw you with a bouquet of flowers in your hand while enjoying their fresh scent, and the card in your hand did not go unnoticed by him. He would try to maintain a calm facade, but could subtly show signs of discomfort. When you mentioned that you didn't know who had given them to you because it was signed anonymously, Geto couldn't help but let out a low scoff. Nevertheless, he was determined to invite you to dinner at the best restaurant in the area, and if you accepted, you can be sure that he would pick you up at your house with an even larger and more beautiful bouquet than the one you received from your secret admirer.

⸺ㅤNANAMI

Nanami would maintain a calm posture, seeming almost disinterested, but inside, he would feel a twinge of sadness and jealousy. When Nanami found her in the corridors of Jujutsu High, he almost couldn't hide his surprise when he saw you wearing the same necklace he was thinking of buying for you as a gift when he decided it was the right time to bring his own feelings to light. Nanami was courteous, complimenting how well the necklace suited you, which he always imagined when he saw the jewel in the jewelry store's window. Nanami was even more surprised when he heard her recount that the jewel, along with a Valentine's Day card and a beautiful bouquet of flowers, had been left at the entrance of her apartment by some delivery person. You also mentioned being was afraid of the gifts precisely because they were anonymous and the anonymous person knew your address, but the jewel was so beautiful and looked so good on you that it was impossible not to wear it. Nanami was quick to warn you about how dangerous this situation could be, trying not to let his imprudent jealousy show and trying not to be affected by the adorable pout you made while quietly repeating how beautiful the necklace was. After that incident, he probably wouldn't confess his own feelings immediately, but you can expect to be presented with the same piece of jewelry the next day by Nanami while he tries to maintain a stoic demeanor and disguise it as much as possible, saying that he noticed how much you liked the piece. I can say that he felt the once dormant butterflies in his stomach stir when you asked him for help putting the necklace around your neck.

⸺ㅤCHOSO

Choso would be sincere about his feelings and would express his sadness directly, but lovingly. Choso didn't even know about the particular celebratory date, and discovering it when asking about the cute puppy plush and heart-shaped card you were carrying might have been somewhat disheartening for him. Choso is emotionally open and loyal, so even though it left him vulnerable, he didn't hesitate to confess his own feelings after your brief explanation about Valentine's Day and your gift from a possible secret admirer. "I would have bought gifts and cards for you myself if you had told me about Valentine's Day earlier...", those puppy eyes looking at you so truthfully that words couldn't even escape his lips. "If I had confessed first, maybe they wouldn't have gifted it to you before me". You could easily hear the guilt and regret in his voice. However, your comforting words soon dispel all of Choso's sadness. And later, when you find the plush you received from the anonymous sender with its head torn off, Choso will be hiding a smug little smile as he remembers what he did.

⸺ㅤTOJI

Toji would likely react with a mixture of indifference and jealousy disguised as a joke. When Toji saw you with the chocolates and the red card in your hands, he didn't care much because he didn't even remember it was Valentine's Day. All he did was steal some chocolates from the box when you weren't around, and only after eating at least half of the box did he read the note next to it. Toji would try not to show too much emotion, so when you returned, he had to disguise his jealousy. "A secret admirer, huh? When your little boyfriend decides to reveal himself, tell him not to buy cheap crap for you. Even I wouldn't be able to buy such a lousy chocolate to give to someone as a gift." He wouldn't confess directly, but later that day, he gave you another box of chocolates that were even better than the ones you received from the anonymous sender. However, when you opened the box, half of those chocolates were missing too.

⸺ㅤSUKUNA

Sukuna would act with arrogance and disdain, trying to belittle the other's confession and show that he doesn't care. You were rereading the Valentine's Day card you received, with a beautifully handwritten poem for you, and what intrigued you the most was that it was signed anonymously. Although you quite enjoyed having a secret admirer, feeling like a protagonist from one of the books you often read. When Sukuna finds you, your silly smile doesn't go unnoticed by him. He approaches you curiously and, despite your protests, snatches the delicate card from your hands. As he reads the poem dedicated to you, Sukuna feels a painful twinge of jealousy and even a dark desire to uncover the author of the confession. Without much thought, Sukuna easily tears the card apart, tossing the crumpled pieces onto the ground as he ignores your protests. "What's your problem? Why did you do that?" You angrily question as you bend down to gather the remnants of your poem. Sukuna would feel another pang of jealousy; "I'll rip the hands off the worm who wrote this garbage so they can never write crap again", he would think.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, forgive me for possible mistakes🩷

[greg-montgomery]

Aaron going through boxes of old stuff and finding a journal of yours from a long time ago. He opens it out of curiosity and reads about how your younger self always wanted to be called princess from a significant other so he tries it out along with buying a nice bouquet of flowers 🤭

Aaron’s cheeks were almost hurting by smiling all day, because he was surrounded by boxes of your belongings that would soon be all over his house. Your house.

One certain box with the word “memories” in capital letters written on it though, drew his attention. Opening it, he was met with a few books, magazines, cards, and concert tickets.

At the bottom of the box, there was a pink journal with your name decorating its cover.

It looked personal, but it also looked like it was from a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, and with his curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.

The pages were filled with pink glittery letters, little drawings, and stickers of Disney princesses and Barbie characters.

He smiled with affection while turning the pages and seeing what your younger self used to fill her journal with. He almost skipped a page when his eyes fell on the title written on top of it.

“My dream boy!”

Oh, this is gonna be interesting, he thought.

Aaron found himself competing with the ideal version of a boyfriend your teenage self had. He went through every single point you had written down, and mentally checked it.

That version of you, was still part of who you were today, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you or not be enough.

Tall – check.

Dark hair – check.

Sweet – check, well to you at least.

Brings me flowers – check.

Calls me princess – not check.

Princess, huh? That was new.

He knew that you were big on pet names, but princess had never occurred to him before.

A smirk grew on his face. It was time to see if your tastes had changed.

--

Just the day after, Aaron made sure to visit a flower shop after work and buy your favorite flowers. If he was gonna try something, he was going to do it right.

He found you sitting on the couch, eating a bag of chips and scrolling on your phone, some show on the TV playing in the background. You left it open for company when he wasn’t there and something inside him stung a little.

“Baby?”

You threw your head back on the couch and looked up at him as he moved closer. “You’re home,” you sighed with a smile. “Missed you.”

“I did too.” He leaned down to kiss you on the lips and brought the flowers he was hiding behind his back in front of you. “That’s why I decided to get some flowers to my princess.”

Your face lightened up at the sight of the beautiful bouquet and the sound of the pet name. “Aaron!”

You stood up on the couch and threw yourself at him, hugging him with a force that could bring down a bear. “Thank you!”

“You like them, honey?”

“I love them.”

Aaron sighed at the feeling of your lips on his neck, as you left little kisses on the curve of it. “Anything for my princess.”

Your face was still hidden in the crook of his neck but Aaron could feel you laughing.

“What are the giggles for?”

“Nothing…”

He pulled back just enough so he could look at your face, and grabbed your chin softly. You averted your eyes from him as if you had something to hide.

“Y/N?”

“It’s nothing!” you insisted. “I just like to be called that,” you added quietly, playing with a button from Aaron’s shirt. You still wouldn’t look at him.

“To be called what?” he asked.

“Princess…”

“I know.” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I read it in your diary.”

“What?” you raised your voice and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I found it through your old stuff.”

“Aaron, I’m gonna kill you!”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not. You’re laughing.”

“Oh come on, it got you what you wanted.”

“Shut up,” you said , furrowing your brows.

The two of you sat on the couch and he tried to pull you into his arms. After showing resistance for a few seconds, you let him hold you.

“What else did you read?”

“I saw the whole list. About your dream guy.”

“I don’t remember adding ‘he reads my journal without permission’,” you said.

“I do have all the rest though,” he said with a cocky smile.

“You do, I guess,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “I was manifesting.”

“I hope you’re happy with the guy the universe sent you then, princess.”

“Ah…” you threw your head back with a lovesick smile. “And it's only getting better.”

[cressidagrey]

Unknowing

Summary:

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

What if… Azriel actually takes Rhys at his word? And does exactly what his High Lord ordered? With unexpected consequences.

This is the Inner Circle finding out about said consequences. Azriel is very good at keeping secrets

Warnings:

(This is a doozy.) Mention of Sex Work, Unexpected Pregnancy, Mention of Faerie Genocide, Mention of Faerie Wings being used as leather, Mention of Sex

Note:

This was a thought experiment that kinda started to grow a life on its own.

(super pretty divider by @saradika-graphics)

Azriel slid into the Dining Room of the River House nearly on the cusp of being late. Mostly because he hadn’t been able to pull himself away from what he had been doing that afternoon. 

Nobody in his situation would have wanted to leave. 

It had involved his wife and the flower field in their backyard… their daughter sleeping peacefully in her willow basket a few paces away, cradled in a bubble of her mother’s magic that would keep her asleep and safe from anything that could happen to her. 

Fed, changed and as happy as a clam to fall into her usual milk-induced coma, he knew that she would only wake up if she wanted more milk. 

Which meant that her parents had some quality time for each other…and they had made the best out of that. 

The result was a little shimmer of magic all over Azriel that he couldn’t get scrubbed away. Not that he had tried particularly hard either. He liked having that proof of his wife’s pleasure all over him. 

His wife, his mate, the mother of his child…his fucking sanity . There were many words he had for Embelia. 

She was the bright spot of his life, untouched by the darkness that leeched around him. A secret he gladly kept.

And if the glimmer of her magic followed him and showed everybody that he was hers…well, then that was the case. Azriel didn’t particularly care what anybody else thought of it. 

Azriel was out of fucks to give, to be honest. Had been, for the better part of two years…ever since that Solstice. 

He was pretty sure that something inside him had splintered apart at Rhys’ order. 

That fucking order had been the reason why he had ever even met Embelia though. He had taken Rhys literally. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her. That had been Rhys’ words. 

Her had been Elain. 

Azriel had listened to Rhys. He had followed the order to the fucking letter, giving the High Lord of the Night Court to complain about. He had left Elain alone…who had figured things out with Lucien. Both now happy and ensconced in Day Court, with Helion, Lucien’s actual father. 

And he had gone to that pleasure hall.  He had asked for any female that wasn’t afraid of him…and then Embelia had claimed his hand with hers. And that had been that. 

 Granted, he hadn’t known her name then. For months, all he had known her as had been Blossom. That’s who she had been to him for months . 

Just Blossom. Every Thursday, he had gone to that pleasure hall and paid for her company. 

And then she had gotten pregnant. 

Not quite what either of them expected. 

He hadn’t even bothered with a contraception draught and while she had, apparently it hadn’t stood up to Azriel of all faes. 

He should probably thank the mother on his knees for that . 

But Embelia had told him about the pregnancy and had been very clear from the start that while she wanted the child, she wasn’t going to ask anything of him. Which was simply unacceptable. 

He had grown up a bastard. He was not going to put his child through the same if he had any choice in that matter. 

And he had been a little bit in love with her then already. So taking her from that pleasure hall and making her his wife…moving her into a cottage he found and making a life with her…that had been the easiest decision he had ever made. 

They had just fit together…

She had come to live with him, and had given up her job, though that wasn’t something that bothered her all too much. More than anything she was happy that she no longer needed to do that to keep alive, to make a living…

And he got to hear the story of how she had come to Velaris and to the pleasure hall.  

Embelia was a Floresco Fairie. One of the few survivors of that breed of Lesser Fairies. The rest of her family had been slaughtered in the Spring Court Centuries ago. 

She had escaped and had ended up in Velaris of all places, traumatised and alone. Still half a child to her people, not having a trade or anything of that sort. The natural ability of a Floresco Fairy made it possible for her to grow flowers and life wherever she stood but none of that particularly lent itself to a well-paid job. 

So the pleasure house it had been. With a glamour, of course. 

The first time he had met her, she had left the glamour fall away, showing him a pair of iridescent pink wings sprouting out of her back. 

Even then he had thought that she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. 

That opinion had never changed. If anything…after the birth of their daughter, after the mating bond had snapped for both of them, sometimes between cutting the cord and pressing a kiss to their daughter’s blood-covered head, covered in downy black curls…and he had watched Emmie cradle the baby against her chest, watched her coo to her, not caring one bit about blood and sweat and anything else, because there was their little girl that they had hoped and prayed for…somehow at that point, love seemed such a weak word for what he felt for them both. 

Somehow…somehow they had become the light of his life, the only guide he needed. And he protected that ferociously. 

Maybe even more than was necessary. 

He kept them away from his job and from anything and anybody that may would know him as the terror of the Night Court. 

They were his. His. His . 

The first thing in his long life that was his and his alone . 

And maybe that was too possessive, but…he had never wanted to listen to anybody else’s opinions about his and Embelia’s relationship. 

And everybody would have had their opinions. 

He knew that.

Instead…he had kept them a secret. 

To this day, nobody knew. Not Rhys, not Cassian, not Mor, not Amren…not Feyre or Nesta. 

Though of all people, sometimes he thought that maybe Nesta suspected something. 

But even if she did…that was fine too. 

He had made Embelia his wife, and his mate and the mother of his child and nobody could take her away from him. Nobody but herself, and she was gloriously happy in their little flower-covered cottage, where she was…content to dabble at being a housewife. 

After the life she had, he could understand it. She revelled in the normal, in doing nothing but dote on their daughter and try and cook him dinner, which had started as absolutely disgusting but these days often turned out at least mostly edible…to tend to her garden of flowers, which were all she ate anyway…

To just exist there, in that little slice of paradise they built. 

And instead of being with her…he attended a family dinner at the River House that evening. He would have gladly just stayed at home, made himself dinner, or maybe let Embelia try to feed him, which never quite worked out and then walked their daughter to sleep. 

It would have been perfectly fine to him. To press a kiss to their daughter’s black curls and stroke her iridescent purple sparkling wings that were carefully folded and laid over her back…her heart-shaped mouth would open into a perfect o and she would yawn and he would fall in love all over again. It wouldn’t just be perfectly fine. It would be everything he had ever wanted. 

And then he could lay her in her crib and he could walk the few steps to their bed and crawl into it next to his wife, and she would give him that smile…and he could cocoon both of them in his wings and fall asleep, safe in the knowledge that she would be there the next morning.

Maybe kiss her some more and hear very perfect noise that left her throat and feel her warm body against his, skin like silk and small warm hands that could take him apart in seconds. 

But no. Rhys had ordered him. Like he was sometimes prone to be doing these days. Maybe because he didn’t know how Azriel spent his free time and clearly him being a loose cannon was way more believable than anything else. 

Oh well. Azriel wasn’t in the mood to clear that up. 

If anything he was in a brooding mood, wanting to go back to his afternoon in the flower field. 

“For cauldron’s sake,” Cassian complained, just as he started to violently sneeze. Multiple times. “Did you roll around in a flower field or something?” his brother demanded and Azriel was amused besides himself. 

“Yes,” he agreed drily, taking his seat next to Cassian who just glared at him and then grumbled under his breath, swapping seats with Nesta because otherwise he was probably not going to stop sneezing. 

“The Lord of Bloodshed taken to his knees by some flower pollen,” Amren drawled from across the table and Cassian glared at her. 

Nesta just snorted in amusement. 

Rhys and Feyre appeared at that moment and at least the discussion of flower fields was tabled for the moment. 

Which was just as well. 

Azriel mentally wondered if he could get away with skipping dessert if he cited some headache or something. He could get dessert at home. It promised to be much better than anything that would be served at the table anyway. 

Or maybe that was just going to make Rhys think that he was on the brink of some sort of breakdown even more than he already was. Who knew? 

Was it worth the mental berating that it promised to give him? All under the guise of worrying about him or checking in on him? 

Azriel had his own opinion about that these days. 

He couldn’t help but flinch as Nesta suddenly reached out to touch his hair. 

“What are you doing?” he asked her drily as Nesta pulled back her hand, Embelia’s glimmer sticking to it. 

“You have…glitter in your hair,” Nesta gave back. “What did you do?” she asked him with a grin. “Is that some kind of fashion choice now?” 

“It’s not glitter,” he gave back. It wasn’t. It was the flakes that Embelia’s wings shook loose when she trembled. It did look like glitter though. Sparkling, catching the sunlight…gorgeous, like every inch of her. 

“Az, I don’t know if you are ready to hear it, but it definitely looks like glitter,” Nesta told him with a snort. “Don’t worry, it suits you,” she said graciously, biting back a laugh. 

Mor was watching the whole thing. “It’s not glitter,” she finally said, mustering his hair with far too much interest. Azriel forced himself not to twitch under the assessing gaze of her brown eyes. Once upon a time, he would have given nearly everything to have her look at him like that, but nowadays…there was nothing there anymore. He would always lover her but sometimes during centuries of yearning for her it had settled into a deep and abiding friendship. Into loyalty. No longer the bright burning of desire, of…anything like that.  “Though I would really like to know where you found a Floresco Fairy to talk into your bed, Az,“ she said with a wink. 

Azriel didn’t react. 

“A what?” Feyre asked, curiosity piqued. 

“Floresco Fairy,“ Mor repeated. “They used to live in the Spring Court…centuries ago.”

“They don’t anymore?” Feyre wondered and the conversation around the table dropped. 

“Tamlin’s father had them slaughtered and used their wings for leather,“ Azriel said, his voice forcefully even. It was even more horrific than it sounded like. A whole breed of faeries was killed off because of their wings. Floresco Faeries had never been violent or a fighting breed. They kept to themselves, raising their families and growing their flowers and their crops…and then it had been ripped apart into a bloodbath. 

Embelia had been right in the middle of that. She had escaped, her youngest sister in tow…who had later succumbed to her injuries and all Emmie had been able to do was to bury her into the icy ground in Winter Court. She hadn’t outright said it but Azriel had known that for years she had wished to bury herself right there alongside her sister. 

Feyre just stared at him, blue eyes wide. “That’s horrible,“ she whispered, swallowing. 

“Yes,“ he agreed. It was. 

Horrific. 

“Not all died, a few escaped,” Mor said, trying to make it seem less horrific than it had been. “It happened a very long time ago. But still, they are quite rare. Where did you find her?” She asked Azriel, clearly trying to find something else to talk about.

He wasn’t stupid enough to lie to Morrigan, whose gift was Truth. 

“Today? At home.” He answered honestly. 

“Home?” Mor repeated, sounding amused beside herself. 

“Is she the same one you bought that solstice gift for?” Nesta piped up. 

He had asked her for advice, more out of desperation than anything else. She had been quite helpful though. 

He hadn’t been anted to ask Mor for obvious reasons, Armen would have probably bitten off his head and Feyre…well then Rhys would have known. But Nesta? Nesta had listened to him when he had asked politely and had then told him that if she liked him, she would like whatever he would buy her.

Not that useful but oh well. 

So he just nodded. 

“Which one did you end up picking?” Nesta asked him, curious. 

“I just bought both,” he admitted with a shrug. 

A hair comb that Emmie still wore nearly every day, silver and pink stones intertwined, keeping blush hair pulled back from her face and a pair of earrings that she also wore sometimes. 

She liked things like that, even when she never seemed to spend much money on them. And he liked buying her stuff like that because then she wore it and had that pleased little smile on her face, content and happy…

“Lucky girl,” Nesta told him with a secret smile, elbowing his ribs and he bit back down a smile for himself. 

“Az got a girlfriend?” Cassian asked, sounding shocked. 

“I do not,” he disagreed with a roll of his eyes. He didn’t have a girlfriend. He had a wife. Very different. 

“So you just buy…What did he buy, Nesta?” Cassian asked. 

“He was waffling between a jewel-encrusted hair comb or a pair of lovely earrings. Apparently, he got her both,” Nesta answered her mate with a sigh. “You should take some advice from him,” she told him drily, making Cassian roll his eyes. 

“So if you don’t have a girlfriend, you just buy hair combs and jewellery for any female you come across?” His brother asked him drily. 

He just shook his head, not saying a single word. His shadows tightened in response, crawling closer to him from where they had skittered away. 

They liked Embelia, though they had taken a special liking to his daughter, tendrils oftentimes coming to play with her or checking on her through the night. With Emmie they kept a respectful distance, though they liked to hide and play with her, like they basked in her pure presence.

It wouldn’t surprise him all too much if that’s what they did. 

“Flower and Bud are safe” they whispered at that moment, even when he hadn’t asked. 

Right. Safe. 

“Leave him to it, Cassian. Though maybe next time wash off the glimmer. Or don’t have one of your amorous adventures before you show up to dinner,” Rhys drawled. 

It shouldn’t have upset him like that. It shouldn’t have. 

It was harmless. Mostly at least, but Azriel couldn’t help but feel the icy rage burn bright in his chest at Rhysand’s words. At his brother’s words. 

He didn’t have many good things in his life but he had Emmie and he was not going to let anybody take her away from him. He was not. 

That was simply unacceptable. 

“If you try to forbid me from bedding my wife, Rhysand, we are going to have a problem,” Azriel snapped back icily. 

A real problem, because he was not willing to give up Embelia under any circumstances. Not her and also not the pleasure they shared. 

He regretted his words instantly. One could have heard a pin drop in the Dining Room of the River House at that moment because this was the last thing anybody had expected. 

The last thing. 

He had kept his wife and his daughter hidden and he had been completely content with that because it had kept them safe and secure and he hadn’t wanted to listen to anybody trying to talk him out of it or telling him it was a bad idea. 

It was his fucking choice and he had never regretted it once. 

“Your wife ,” Amren was the first that recovered. “Your wife?!”

“Yes.”

His wife. His daughter. His family. 

The family he claimed. They were his. 

“You don’t have a girlfriend but you have a wife ?” Mor repeated. 

He just nodded. 

“You got married. When?” she continued asking him and he met her gaze. 

“About a year ago,” he answered. It had been just the two of them…and well, the babe slumbering in Emmie’s womb, but that was the whole reason for the wedding in the first place, right? 

“You didn’t even invite us to the wedding!” Cassian complained, having suddenly recovered his ability to talk. “You got married and you didn’t tell us?” 

Clearly. 

“And you never thought that that was something we may want to know, Azriel?” Rhys asked, his voice icy but Azirel met the gaze of violet eyes with his own.

“If you believe it or not, I can just about manage my personal relationships or my amorous adventures without the input of you, High Lord,” he drawled. 

There had been no reason to tell anybody. Least of all Rhys. 

“That was not what that was about and you know it,” his brother hissed at him, but Azriel just shrugged.  

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was. 

Maybe it had really just been a political worry for Rhys, but that didn’t mean that what he had done, hadn’t hurt…didn’t mean that he hadn’t pulled rank with Azriel in a way he had only done so very rarely. 

Rhys had gotten what he had wanted in the end. Elain and Lucien had figured it out…Day and Night were closer than ever. 

And Azriel…well, he was still pissed off about what had gone down in Rhys’ office that Solstice. Fucking furious, to be honest.   Even after Embelia had come into his life…even after she had married him. Even after the mating bond had snapped. He loved his wife, but he was still fucking furious about being treated like that. 

Furious and hurt. 

And maybe that had played into his decision as well. 

There was no reason to tell Rhys what happened. No reason whatsoever. 

Rhys must have caught that thought because the shimmer of night started to swirl around him, but Azriel wasn’t scared. He just raised a single eyebrow in question. 

“No reason?” Rhys questioned harshly. “You are the Spymaster of this fucking court, Azriel! You don’t think that maybe I should know who you are cohabiting with? Who you share a bed with? Who you married? How long did you even know this female before you married her?”

“A few months,” he answered drily. “What do you think I talk about when I am with her? Bring up the secrets of the Night Court as Pillow Talk? Oh, I tortured a couple of faes from Hewn City this afternoon, oh, harder, love? ” He questioned with a roll of his eyes.

Feyre choked out a laugh.

Rhys did not find it amusing. 

“Where did you even meet her?” he demanded. 

“Why, Rhys, I just followed your orders. You told me to go to a pleasure hall so I did,” he shot back. He had followed that order to the fucking letter. 

“So she’s a whore,” Rhys said and Azriel just looked at him. 

Embelia wasn’t ashamed of what she had been. Quite frankly, neither was he. She had done what she needed to do to survive. He was never going to give her the fault for that. The fault was on Spring for slaughtering her family and on the Night Court that they hadn’t given better support so that she would have never gotten into a situation like this where that was the only way out. 

But Embelia? She had been a whore. It was a simple fact. And she wore that proudly.  

“She was. Yes,” he agreed and he could see it on Rhys’ face what he thought about that. 

“You ordered Azriel to go to a pleasure hall?” Cassian asked. “Why?” he demanded. 

“Because he fancied himself in love with Elain of all faes and I couldn’t have him bring our court to the brink of war because he couldn’t keep it in his pants!” Rhys growled. “So I told him to go to a pleasure hall and pay for it to get it out of his system.”

“Rhys!” Mor snapped, shock colouring her voice

“Clearly, I was right, because your infatuation didn’t last long after you were told no. How long did it take you until you were in that pleasure hall?” Rhys demanded. “A Day? A week?”

“Around 6 months,” he answered, his voice even. “After it became obvious that Elain was going to give in to Lucien…Once it became obvious that she wasn’t interested in me. Then I started visiting the Pleasure Hall. I married my wife 4 months later.” 

“By the mother, Azriel, did all your good sense leave you?” Rhys asked him, shaking his head.  “What were you thinking?”  he demanded. 

“That I love her,” Azriel said calmly. “I love her,” he repeated. 

“Wow, she must have really been worth the money you spend on her,” Rhys drawled. 

She had been. Every gold coin. Every fucking clipped copper he paid for her company. Everything had been worth it, just for Embelia’s company.  

He didn’t even react to it. He had heard worse. But he could feel his rage grow with ever fucking word Rhys uttered. 

“She is worth more than you will ever understand,”  Azriel said quietly, his voice laced with steel.

Rhys glared at him. And then he said something so utterly inappropriate that the rage exploded. 

“So that’s what you needed all the time? Some pretty female that opens her legs and suddenly she leads you around by your prick?”

It felt like somebody had sucked all the air out of that room. 

Azriel’s blood boiled with anger and hurt, seething inside,  his control barely keeping the darkness at bay.

He wanted to kill Rhys at that moment. He couldn’t remember ever being this angry before. 

Having their relationship reduced to that…

Embelia’s face appeared in his mind, her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her touch. 

His sanity. 

He had made his choices, and he would stand by them. No one, not even Rhys, could make him regret loving Embelia.

“You can say whatever you want about me, but you say a single thing about my wife or my child and I’ll rip out your fucking throat, and don’t think for one moment that I won’t,” he snapped back harshly. “And yes, for the record, she was worth every fucking clipped copper, I spent on her. She was worth everything. I wanted to marry her. I asked her. I made that choice. She has done absolutely nothing but love me .” 

“You got a kid too?!” Cassian piped up. “Az?” he asked and Azriel ground his teeth.

“Yes,” he bit out. 

“How old?” Cassian asked quietly. 

“3 months tomorrow,” Azriel answered honestly. Cassian stared at him, hazel eyes harsh. 

“Boy or Girl?”

“Girl.”

“I got a niece and you haven’t told me?!” Cassian demanded. “How dare you! I owe her three months' worth of gifts and cuddles!”

“Cassian!” Nesta said sharply and Cassian started pouting. 

“Are you sure that the kid is yours?” Rhys drawled. 

He didn’t even bother to answer that question. 

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood. 

“Home,” he gave back clippedly. “I’d rather walk my daughter to sleep than listen to you insult her mother and ask if she’s actually my daughter.” His voice was dripping with disdain. “Like there ever were any questions about it. She got her mother’s wings and my colouring.”

***

Nobody followed him home. Which was a good thing because Azriel wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood at the moment. He was still furious. Utterly furious. 

Even as he walked through the door of the cottage… right until he saw Embelia sit in the living room, in that overstuffed armchair and nurse their daughter. She looked up as he entered, smiling.

And suddenly, every bit of anger just went up in smoke, because he couldn’t care less. 

Not when his mate was sitting there nursing his daughter, and it was so easy to just cross the room and drop to his knees before her, to let her reach out for him and run a hand over his hair and jaw and he leaned into her touch, breathing in the smell of earth and home and love. 

Home. He was home, he was with her and that was all he cared about. He stared at his daughter, happily drinking…dark eyes closed in concentration, one pudgy little fist pressing against Embelia’s breast, clearly making sure that her source of milk was going nowhere and he pressed a kiss to her downy soft hair, breathing in the combination of scents of himself and Emmie that clung to her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Embelia asked him softly and he just shook his head. No. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to be with his girls. He just wanted to…He just wanted to be right there. 

“You are the best things that ever happened to me,” he whispered hoarsely. 

A gift from the mother herself, and he still wondered every fucking day how he deserved both of them. 

Emmie ran a hand through his curls, staying quiet, as their daughter stopped drinking and he reached out to take her. 

Embelia happily relinquished her hold on her, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek, and a soft touch to their daughter’s wings…iridescent black. 

Her wings. His colouring. 

No question about it. 

He walked her to sleep like he always did when he could be there, pressing her little body tight to his chest, a scarred hand holding her as carefully as she was made out of spun gold. 

Emmie had laughed at him at the start, at how carefully he held her, telling him that she was a baby and would survive it if he kissed and cuddled her. Still, he had been terrified of hurting her. 

She was so small, and his hands were so big and broad and scarred and…

But sometime during the last few weeks, he had realised that his daughter…his daughter would never look at his hands as anything other than the hands that had held her and comforted her. She would grow up with these scars…she probably wouldn’t even notice them. 

They would just be a fact of life to her. 

So he walked her, the slow swaying circles around their living room that he always made to calm her as much as him, as Embelia tidied around the living room, got ready for bed, and made herself comfortable for the night. 

He could hear the bath running as he felt the touch against his mind. It wasn’t Rhys. 

It was Feyre.

He was surprised enough that he let her slide in, just a little bit, and he knew that she caught a glimpse of the baby in his arms as he felt the surprise register. 

“She’s beautiful.” It was nearly a coo in which she said that, much to his amusement and pleasure, taking in the iridescent wings that lay folded over her back. 

“She got it from her mother.”

It was the truth. Embelia was the most beautiful fae he had ever laid eyes on. The kind of beauty wars were fought over, that brought males trembling to their knees…Azriel easily admitted that he also met that particular criteria. 

“You missed a knockdown drag-out fight between Rhys and Cassian…And then Mor and Nesta decided that they should also get a word in.”

That was not what he had expected, to be quite honest. 

He had half expected that he was going to end up taking his wife and his daughter and find someplace else for them to live. 

“Amren stopped them from levelling the city,” Feyre said drily. It should have amused him, but it didn’t. Not really. 

“You should have come to me after that solstice, I would have told Rhys that he was being ridiculous,” Feyre told him drily. “I’ll deal with him. I promise.”

“It’s fine,” he waved her off. It was fine. 

Right now at least. He never could stay angry when he got to be home when he got to hold his daughter. How could he be angry when he got to hold her? 

He didn’t want to be angry when he held her…He just wanted to breathe in her scent and feel every bit of tension bleed out of him.

A snuffling sound came from his daughter, then a heart belch…and her little body relaxed against his, clearly on her way to the land of dreams. 

“No, it’s not, he should have never done that,” Feyre cut him off. “Or talk to you like that for that matter. Neither on Solstice nor today.  I’ll make sure he understands that. It won’t happen again. You can expect an apology tomorrow.” 

Now he was amused. It bled all over Feyre, who just huffed. “What, do you doubt that I can make him apologise?” she challenged him. 

“Of course not, High Lady,” he promised her. If anybody could get Rhys to weaken in his stance, then it would be his mate. And that was exactly why he had never told Feyre, never wanted to bring her into a position where she was in disagreement with her mate. 

“So congrats on that wedding,” Feyre said suddenly. “We owe you a gift or two, I think…Who knows what Mor is gonna come up with…” He could just hold back the snort at that but could feel Feyre’s amusement leech all over his mind. “Can I…” she trailed off, unsure for a moment. “May I see her?” she asked, curious and delighted for him all the same. He could feel that. 

He pushed a memory at her, from that afternoon…of his wife and his daughter in that spring sun, in that flower field,  their wings glittering and fluttering, Embelia’s pink hair falling to her waist in soft waves and curls, their daughter with his dark hair and her wings, curled up in her mother’s arms, grinning gummily at her…Happiness was oozing from every second of that screenshot. 

“You are beyond lucky,” Feyre said quietly. 

“I know.”

He knew that with every fibre of his being. 

“What’s her name?” Feyre wondered. “She’s beautiful.” 

She was. Gorgeous in fact. And that wasn’t just coloured by the fact that she was his wife and his mate…but she was gorgeous. 

“Embelia,” he answered Feyre. “Family calls her Emmie though.” He called her that, some of her friends did as well. It was what she was most comfortable with. 

“And your daughter’s? What’s her name?” Feyre asked. 

It had taken them months to settle on a name, and then finally, it had been so easy. 

“Aster.”

“A Star and a Flower,” Feyre realised with some amusement. 

“Embelia thought it was just fair.” 

[multifandoms4]

Secrets

Lando Norris x Leclerc!Reader

Word count: 1.2k+

You and Lando have been together for about a year now, but no one knows. You kept your relationship a secret because of how the press can be and more importantly your older brothers. You love your brothers but sometimes they can be a bit much, like now. Lando had accidentally left a hickey on your neck and your brothers saw it before you could hide it. And now, they were practically interrogating you.

Charles was pacing around the room, Lorenzo was just sitting and staring at you and Arthur was asking you questions. "Who have you been seeing?" "How long has it been going on?" "Why would you not tell us?" You kept silent and didn't answer any of their questions which only made Charles more angry. Your phone started to ring, but Charles grabbed it and saw it said “Baby❤️” then answered it. “Hey baby, when are we meeting up today?” Lando asked before Charles could say anything. “You’re dating LANDO?!” He yelled at you then he started yelling at Lando who just hung up on him.

You looked up at Charles to see him fuming. “Cha, please listen-” “No, I asked one thing of you years ago and that was to never date another driver. And what do you go and do? Exactly that.” You could feel the tears building up as Charles shows his anger and disappointment towards you. Eventually you got up and walked to your room and started to pack a small bag of clothes. You grabbed your keys and looked at your brothers, “You may not agree or be happy about me being with Lando but it is my choice and I love him. So when you are done throwing a tantrum, come talk to me then.” You grabbed your phone and left.

Lando was parked outside and opened your door for you. “Thank you Love.” You murmured and gave him a small kiss. He closed the door once you were in the passenger seat and got in the car. The ride to his house was mostly quite and he didn’t know what to do. “I’m sorry that I caused us to be caught.” He whispered. Lando felt terrible that your brothers were rude to you because he had left a hickey by accident. “It’s okay Lan, the truth would have to come out anyways.” You told him. “I just want to forget about it.” You whispered. He nodded and when you got to his house, you changed into a hoodie of his and laid down.

He got into a pair of sweatpants and laid down with you. Lando pulled you into his arms and you buried your face into his neck. “They wouldn’t let me explain and all I could see was Charles’ anger and disappointment.” You whispered. He pulled you closer to him and held you there. “I’m sorry baby, I wish I could do something to help.” He said and you could tell he was upset at your brothers. “Just being here is enough.” You told him and slowly drifted off to sleep. Right before he went to fall asleep, your phone started ringing. He saw it was your mother and answered it.

“Hello Mrs. Leclerc, this is Lando Y/n’s boyfriend. She is currently sleeping.” He waited for her response afraid she was going to yell at him. “Can you please tell Y/n that I want you and her here tomorrow night for dinner. I’ll keep her brothers at bay but I would like to meet you.” Lando was shocked that was what she called about. “I’ll let her know, thank you so much Mrs. Leclerc.” He replied. “She seems to really trust you if your who she went to when she’s upset. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” She ended the call and Lando finally drifted off to sleep.

Once morning rolled around and Lando took you out for breakfast, he told you “Your mom called last night and told us to be at dinner tonight.” You slowly put your fork down. “She did what?” “She called and I didn’t want her to worry over you so I answered and told her you were fine. Then next thing I know, she’s invited me to your family dinner tonight.” You smiled at him “At least maman seems to be happy I’m dating you.”

~time skip to dinner~

Lando had went out and bought your mom her favorite flowers and he was nervous to say the least. You opened the door and yelled out “We’re here.” Then you heard footsteps which turned out to be your mother. “How are you doing dear?” She asked you. “I’m fine maman, really.” She smiled then turned to Lando “These are for you Mrs. Leclerc.” He handed her the flowers. “Oh they are so pretty! Come on in, dinner is almost ready.” You gave Lando’s hand a squeeze and followed your mom.

Your brothers were already sitting at the table and you could tell they were not happy. “Lando, these are my other two brothers Lorenzo and Arthur.” You pointed to them and they just stared back at him. “Guys this is Lando.” You said trying to get someone to talk. Once you realize that they weren’t, you went to the kitchen to help your mom. “You can come with me if you want.” You told Lando. He nodded and grabbed your hand. His hands were a little unsteady due to nerves. “It’s okay baby. The only one whose opinion matters is me and of course my maman’s.” You joked with him. He gave you a smile and a laugh. You smiled up at him and pulled him down for a quick kiss.

Dinner had gone smoothly thanks to your mother but she truly loved Lando and that was all you could ask for. Both of you were currently sitting on the patio in the back yard. “I told you you had nothing to worry about.” You teased Lando. He rolled his eyes playfully and you laughed at him. “You’re always right aren’t you?” He joked with you. “Something along those lines.” You remarked and pulled him into a kiss. It lasted a few minutes before you pulled away and rested your head on his chest. Arthur and Lorenzo really like Lando once they got to actually talk to him but Charles seemed to hold onto his anger. At least until now.

He was watching you and Lando and he could see how good you are for each other. He looked down and started to feel guilty for yelling at you over this when you had always been supportive of his relationships. Once Lando decided to call it a night, Charles stopped him on his way out. “I know I’ve been rude all night but you make my sister happy and you seem to treat her right. That’s all I can ask for.” Lando nodded “Thanks man, that means a lot to me.” Charles pulled him in for a hug and it made you happy to see that.

After Lando left, Charles apologized to you about how he acted and handled the situation. “Definitely could have been handled better.” You joked with him. “I’m just glad that you came around and aren’t going to try to kill him every chance you get.” You smiled and gave him a hug. “How long have you two been together anyway?” Charles asked as you walked to your room. “About a year now.” You stated and shut your door. “A YEAR?!” Charles shouted and it made you laugh.

—————

Author’s note:

Hey, this is my first time writing an image so please ignore any mistakes. I’ve been wanting to write things for a while but finally decided to do it. If you have any feedback please let me know but please don’t be rude about it. Hope you enjoyed it!

[highvern]

The Boy is Mine

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings:  weed/alcohol consumption, exhibitionism, marking, oral sex, creampie, cum eating, jealous!reader, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, pussy whipped hoshi

Length: ~ 5.5k

Note: dedicated to @the-boy-meets-evil bc she likes to yell at me about this couple. also @gyuswhore beta reading this despite our divorce

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f], Talk [a, f, s], Casual [a, s, f], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

You won’t admit it under anything short of waterboarding but sometimes there’s a sharp sense of worry Soonyoung will inevitably ditch you for someone that shits rainbows like he does. The type of girl that probably deserves the infinite patience he treats you with because she can use big girl words to communicate her feelings rather than pretend they don’t exist or allude to them in vague shows of affection you pretend aren’t happening.

Weeks of exclusivity and you still don’t let him kiss you in public because the thought of anyone seeing those feelings you can’t name play out is terrifying. You aren’t embarrassed of him, he touches you plenty, hangs around like a shadow following your every move. You like him, he likes you. Even with the mess of your brain he’s made it clear you have nothing to worry about but that ounce of doubt always lingers.

The girl attempting to chat Soonyoung up against the wall sparks that feeling. 

He looks fine as you left him. Nodding to her questions, no rush to be anywhere else. He isn’t rude without provision, and to expect it from him is asking for a change to the core of his being. But it’s times like these you wish you liked him less so you wouldn’t worry more.

But you don’t have anything to worry about. Soonyoung asked for exclusivity weeks ago. He isn’t your boyfriend, the word physically makes your skin crawl to think about, but the expectation is there. You’re exclusive. It wasn’t an explicit directive for himself but it’s physically impossible for him to even be entertaining anyone else. There isn’t enough time in the day unless a high quality clone is running around somewhere out there. Soonyoung spends more time at your apartment than his own and when he’s not at your place he’s working. And even then, he’s texting you how much he loves the after school kids at the dance studio.

So you keep silently repeating the affirmations that there's nothing for you to worry about while pouring another drink. It’d be better to look away and not subject yourself to torture but then you’d miss little miss sunshine closing the space between them and signing her own death warrant. 

You know the dance well. Pretend to be coy, maintain a step too close to be polite, try to sneak in a casual touch and read the vibe from there. Blondie barely manages to lift a hand before you drop the half full cup of ice and liquor in favor of shouldering through whoever blindly wanders into your war path. 

Soonyoung catches your approach, smiling over the stranger's head like he’s missed you for longer than the five minutes you’ve been absent for another drink. You’d warm under it like a flower in the sun if murder wasn’t such a tempting thought. 

He catches your waist the second you’re in his orbit, a reflex. But what he isn’t ready for is your mouth on his with such unprecedented vigor for a public setting. 

The kiss tastes like cheap beer and his weed pen but you don’t care. Your only concern is making sure whatever-her-name is has a front row seat to how much he wants you, and how bad her odds are at convincing him otherwise. You don’t tease for access to his mouth, prefering to licking against his bottom lip with enough tongue to make his hips buck like he’s in the privacy of your room and not pinned to the wall during a house party.

With a steel willpower, you manage to pull away; if only to smirk at the disgust on her face at the vulgarity. But not before biting at his lower lip, pulling until it pops out from between your teeth. Soonyoung might pass out from that alone.

"Oh,” you announce like you had no idea someone was watching from only a foot away. She’s red in the face, shocked and horrored as you bare your teeth and push your cheek up to Soonyoung’s mouth for a series of wandering kisses. “And you are?"

An indignant hmph! and whirl of blonde hair announces her retreat.

"Who was she?" you ask, dodging his attempt for a repeat.

He takes it in stride, tongue tracing across your pulse like no one is watching. "Who?" 

"That girl,” you sigh. 

"What girl?” 

"Don't play stupid, she was flirting with you." 

“Didn’t notice," he mumbles into your jaw.

It isn’t much but the words bubble across your skin. The tightness in your jaw melts a fraction, allowing you to indulge in more touching. More of him. Soonyoung is always ready to play where you’re concerned; a weight on your thigh proves it. You press into it in hopes she is still watching from across the room.

Serves her right if she is. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

“Wait.” Sooyoung pulls back, mouth agape. “Is that why you kissed me? You were jealous?”

He reads you too easily for comfort. “Shut up.”

“Oh my god,” he squeals. You’re tangled in his arms, suctioned to his chest while he rubs the tip of his nose across yours. “You are.”

“Don’t make it weird.” 

You’re pouting but Soonyoung is weak for it and lets you go without interrogation because his next kiss lands right on the curve of your lower lip. “You just stuck your hand down my pants because some girl breathed in my direction and I’m making it weird?”

“I’m leaving.”

You barely manage to turn away before he’s got you in his arms. “No, you’re not. Come here.” 

He drags you over to the table his friends managed to snag, planting you firmly in his lap without a care. An invitation you couldn’t refuse if you tried. It’s not unusual for you two to be attached at the hip. But the difference this time is that Soonyoung keeps kissing you. Your skin burns under his lips, mouth finding whatever part of you he can reach; shoulder, cheek, the back of your hand. Nothing can stop him now that he’s got permission, not even his friends watching in disgust over a game of cards.

It’s nicer than anticipated.

“Three fours.”

A few shifts across Soonyoung’s crotch under the guise of getting more comfortable is all it takes for a firm pressure to rise against your ass once again. He has no shame in how easy he folds; likes you knowing what you do to him with some PG grinding in front of an audience; what you can anticipate later away from prying eyes. 

“Bullshit,” you argue, eying the stack of fours in your hand.

Wonwoo picks up the pile, grumbling the entire time. 

The hand on your thigh flies a little too close to the sun as you continue playing, the others unaware that you're naked under your skirt and Soonyoung just figured it out. 

The ghost of his fingertips through your folds shivers up your spine. He inhales sharply. “Babe.”

“Hmmm?” you smile, nipping at his ear. Another press and he’s teasing your entrance like no one's watching. You clamp your thighs to stop him from mindlessly starting something neither of you are strong enough to stop. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re—”

“I’m?” you trail off, looking back to your hand and throwing more cards down. “Two nines.”

“Bullshit,” Jun calls.

“Suck it.” You flip over the same two cards, a pair of nines greeting everyone’s view. It’s a good distraction from what Soonyoung is doing under the edge of the table. How he sweats around his collar and goes pink.

He doesn’t shy away from your clit swelling under weak circles. The brief thought of him fingering you to a boneless end right here crosses your mind, both of you fighting to keep quiet. But you’re sober enough to see the downfall of that particular idea.

As Jun collects the new stack of cards, you lean closer to Soonyoung’s ear. “Tell them you aren’t feeling well.”

“I’m not feeling well,” he parrots immediately. Curious glances shoot his way, estimating if he’s that drunk or if it’s something else. More likely calculating how far they can run before he starts planting drunk kisses on their cheeks.

Knowing looks from around the table watch you slap a hand to his forehead. “Oh no, baby, you’re heating up. Let’s get you some air.”

No one will believe it, not with the way his fingers shine in the dim light when they surface from under your skirt. But none are brave enough to say anything to your face. 

You usher Soonyoung away from the table and towards the hallway where you can hide away for his sake. His friends don’t need to know what you look like when he fingers you into gooey submission.

Wonwoo’s voice hits your back, not even pretending to whisper. “Thirty bucks they fuck in the bathroom.”

“Dude come on,” Jun responds. “Fifty bucks they fuck in someone’s room.”

“Thank fucking god its not one of ours this time.”

“At least you don’t share a wall with him. Did you know he lets her—”

You’re well out of earshot for the rest of their not so secret conversation. Soonyoung latches to your back without concern, eager to find out whatever you have planned.

You peek into a few rooms, distracted by a pair of lips following the slope of your shoulder. A bathroom won’t do and the next room is already occupied, door locked tight. Just as you fear your options are running out, the final door at the end of the hall reveals an empty bed. When you spot the framed photo on the dresser, you realize it's too perfect to go to waste.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Sooyoung groans, knee parting your legs as he forces you back against the door. “Should make you jealous more often.”

A hand up your skirt sets to work immediately, taking advantage of the lack of undergarments and teasing your entrance. He’s good at quick fucks where you’re not supposed to. Knows exactly how to work you into a panting mess with embarrassing ease.

"If you ever,” you gasp from a delicious scissor of his fingers. “Try to make me jealous, I will rip your balls off.”

He presses in a third finger like a branding iron. “Hot.” 

You snake your own grip over his zipper to provide something better than your thigh for him to grind against. Fucking against the door for anyone happening to stumble is alluring. But for what you have planned, the bed is a more convenient option. 

“Bed,” you demand. Soonyoung goes with a gentle shove, tripping over his own feet to keep you in his hold. His hand stays attached, fingers curling inside you without missing a beat.

You suck at his pulse, teeth razing against the skin with the sole purpose of marking him as yours. His hips kick enthusiastically in response. “Fuck, babe.”

He likes when you bite him; when you bruise a mark into his skin to find later. Enjoys the sting of your nails across his back when he fucks you limp into the mattress and vice versa. Soonyoung’s favorite thing to wear is evidence of you on his body. Even if he blushes when you point it out, he never complains. 

A swatch of red and purple framed by teeth marks blooms after you lean away and your insides throb at the sight. It’ll be a pain come tomorrow when he needs to go into the sweltering heat of the studio. But you want it to serve as a warning to anyone who takes a second glance in his direction. 

He’s yours.

Soonyoung wouldn’t splinter away so easily but it’s the first time you’ve felt anything like this. The nagging voice in the back of your head: jealous and possessive. Because now you’ve got something you’d care to lose.

“Want you,” you groan, forcing him onto the edge of the mattress and commanding his lap like a throne. Another bite at his neck, hard enough he winces and shutters through the initial sting but doesn’t shy away. “Wanna ride you.”

You clench around his fingers, the wet noise of your arousal a disgusting backing track to your kissing. This might be enough to make you cum but it isn’t the point. 

“You wanna fuck me?”

His forehead sweats. The initial evidence of a blush spreads across his neck, probably from booze but also the way you rock into his fingers like they’re soaking his cock. “God, yes. But here?”

“Yeah, here.” One hand abandons the grip you have on his shirt, aiming straight for his zipper and slipping beneath the fabric for a teasing squeeze. The fist in his hair is less forgiving when he doesn’t answer. 

“What if we get caught?”

“We won’t,” you coo. Soonyoung knows that tone. It’s the one you use when your sadistic streak is running hot and he can’t fathom refusing whatever you’ve got planned. “I want you.”

Dropping further in his lap, you guide the ridge of his cock to your clit, a messy mix of precum and your essence that makes you both blush brighter. 

“Does that feel good?”

He responds with a shaky “yeah.” His other hand, the one not knuckle deep in your pussy, gropes your ass, forcing your skirt further up your waist so he can watch himself stain the pink of your folds white. The good thing about fucking Soonyoung is he’s too weak not to give into whatever you want.

It’s good for you too. The press of his dick where it technically shouldn’t be; not without a condom. You’ve got half a mind to fuck him like this, using his cock to play with yourself until the sick feeling of his cum between your legs follows you out the door.

“Shit,” Soonyoung grunts.

Your teeth tease along his neck, another mark he’ll need to cover up rising to the surface.“What?” 

“Feels good,” he gasps, rolling into the firmness of your core with untamed need.

“Can you come like this? Cover my pussy in cum?” 

You struggle to stay even for the same reasons he does: you really want to feel him on your skin. 

“Fuck, yes.” He goes taunt, the pace of your fist growing rabid. His voice is broken, a rough edge under your mercy. “Gonna come.”

“Don’t.” You rut into him again; the slippery feel more tempting than you’d admit. 

“Please—” he whines at the next upstroke of your fist. “I’ll get you off too. I promise. Then we can fuck at home.”

“Or…you can fuck me now.”

Soonyoung cries at the offer. “I don’t have a condom.”

“That’s okay.”

“You mean…” Soonyoung eyes you with something like wonder. As if you’re a living goddess sitting in his lap and he has no idea how you got there. “Seriously?”

“I wanna feel you come inside me, baby.”

“Don’t tease me right now.”

“I mean, unless you don’t want—”

He doesn’t let you finish, flipping you on your back and shouldering between your legs without a word. Rough hands force your skirt up around your waist so he can taste you.

“Oh my god.” You roll into his eager tongue, fingers twisting into the short strands of hair to guide him just right. As if Soonyoung needs it after so many months of dedication to your pleasure. 

Your own fingers pinch across your chest, sharp pain you arch into for more. Soonyoung’s rubs you until your back stiffens; a harsh suck of his mouth making you warm all over.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to come inside you,” he grunts with a wet slide against your clit.

“Yeah?” you goad. “Want everyone to see it drip down my leg? Let ‘em know who fucks me this good?”

He responds with a pained groan, a telltale sign he’s touching himself to the thought. 

You're running on borrowed time in someone else’s room and can’t remember if either of you thought to lock the door. If you’re caught, you might as well make the shame worth it.

“Come here,” you beck, catching your own taste on his mouth. 

He rolls to the side without much direction, eager to have you back on top. “Take your shirt off.”

“No. I’m not getting caught with my tits out.” He humps between your legs, shoving his pants down far enough they’re a nonissue. “Is that really what gets you off?”

“You’ve got nice tits. Everyone should know.”

“Perv.” You suck at his earlobe.

“You’re the one that never wears panties but a little bit of nipple is a problem?”

You abandoned the grip in his hair to pinch his cheeks tight, lips puckered for your next kiss. “Yeah, at least you’re friends don’t have to see you sucking on my tits at the table.”

Soonyoung lurches again, nestled tight at your entrance. A simple tease, the head of his cock and nothing more. 

“Oh fuck,” he grunts. 

It’s pathetic to moan with such little contact but you can’t help it. He’s fucking hot. You fumble for his face, bringing him back into a kiss as he presses through the initial stretch. It’s a snug fit even with his fingers earlier.

There’s no time to play with him; torture him with slow descent, taking inch by inch. Instead, you bottom out with a silent promise that next time you’ll take all the time in the world.

He’s flush between your thighs with a little more movement; a sensation you’re accustomed to except now there’s nothing in between. It’s a good feeling. A great feeling. You’ve never let anyone have you like this; unabashedly bare, only for him. Soonyoung doesn’t have many of your firsts but he’s got the ones that carry the most weight. 

You sink a little deeper, gut caving. “Holy shit.”

Soonyoung’s head rolls back. “Stop that.”

“What?” Another squeeze, mold your insides to his shape, makes him whine.

You can see it. In the furrow of his brow. The twitch of his jaw. How frantic he is to stop you from dragging across his lap. Soonyoung could spend forever in your pussy and never grow accustomed to it. There’s no shame in his adoration either. If you don't want him to cum for hours then he’ll go insane to feed that hunger. You love it; revel in the flattery. But tonight, you crave to reap the benefits of his short fuse.

“Gimme a second,” he pleads. 

You give him exactly one and then grab for his hand, forcing it to rub at your clit as you start a shaky cadence in his lap. There’s a glow where his cock rests; nestled deeper after he starts thrusting up inside you on every downstroke.

Defiance floods to replace the desperation you felt before. Defying who is the real question. Soonyoung who’s begging for an inch of relief? Or defying the girl who started this whole thing out in the living room? Maybe it's less about ignoring rules and more about proving a point. 

You’re the one that gets to have him like this, you’re the one that gets to sit in his lap whenever you please, the person he cuddles up to at night and whispers secrets that will fade to dust come morning. It’s you at the beginning of the day and way past when the moon rises over the horizon. And he’s that for you. Now it’s time to prove it to an invisible audience who’ll never know.

“Tell me how it feels,” you demand, nails biting into his wrist.

He watches the contact with glassy eyes, refusing to blink lest he miss a single second.  “Tight. Wet. Oh my god. Wanna feel you come on me.”

You whine into the next upstroke, muscles shaking. Your insides feel used and dirty already. Back arching, Soonyoung mouths at your chest over the fabric over top as you focus on the sweet grind.

Soonyoung isn’t a cocky lover, he’s a submissive one. Likes to be taken care of; directed and praised for being a good boy who knows how to treat you well.

But you want him to be. Maybe it’s toxic but the itch to make him just as insane as you felt seeing that girl flirt with him is too hard to ignore.

A hand on his throat is what finally makes him look away from where he disappears inside you. Breathing hitching when you provide a gentle squeeze before asking, “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“Me,” he pants without missing a beat. 

“That's right. So fuck it like you own it.”

Soonyoung flips you underneath him, hips driving with unrestrained force at your command. He pulls you down to the edge of the bed, thrusting back inside without hesitation; forcing your ankles on his shoulders, flexibility stretched to the limit when he leans down to suck at your tongue.

“Fuck me, god yes,” you keen. You lay pliant; eager to take whatever Soonyoung will give when he’s a slave to his own pleasure. “You’re so big, might—ugh—break me in half.”

“So fucking tight,” he moans. His thrusts are sloppy, lost of the thought of your heat dragging against his cock. The fact he’s not just fucking you raw but gets to fuck his cum into you too makes anything beyond release an afterthought. 

“Fuck me harder,” you demand with your nails in his chest.

He drops a knee on the bed, using the leverage to press deeper; verging on that sweeter pain you crave.

“Oh—fuck. I’m cumming,” he groans into your neck. 

“Give it to me, wanna feel it,” you beg, nails scratching down his spine. “Please.” 

His warmth floods your insides and you clench tight around the feeling. Worn, used. Stretched out perfectly from Soonyoung’s cock. You feel like jelly even without the buzz of your own orgasm.

Soonyoung lands a sweet kiss to your pulse. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was hot,” you pant. “God.”

“Soonyoung, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“Nope. Get off me.” You pretend to struggle underneath his weight, not enough for him to actually go anywhere but he flattens you into the mattress until you give up. “You’re so gross.”

“Babe,” he coos. “Be nice to me.”

“Be nice to me,” you mock. “I let you come inside me, how much nicer can I get?”

He kisses you, hips giving a languid roll to remind you he’s a dancer and can fuck like one even after spilling his load inside you. You shiver from the thought of another round with his spend as lube.

It’s a short lived fantasy. 

Soonyoung slips down your front, mouth cataloging your skin in sweltering passes. As his fingers replace his cock to prevent leaking onto the blanket neither of you are responsible for cleaning. Even worn from a hard fuck, you suck his fingers in, ready for more.

“Gonna keep it all right here for me, yeah?” He gawks at the reveal of his fingers, rapt attention on the lewd sheen.

You ignore the question in favor of goading him. “Take a picture.”

“What?” 

“I said take a picture,” you tempt him again, legs spreading wider, presenting the blush of your cunt for his inspection.

He eyes it wonder, fingers tracing through without concern for your sanity. “Seriously?” 

“Mhm.”

“Fuck.” He’s got his phone in hand in a flash, recording the streaks of white staining your folds. “Now that is a pretty pussy.”

“Wow, it’s only pretty now because you came in it?”

Soonyoung ignores the dig. His fingers glide through the mess, fingering it back inside. “Push it out for me.”

He snaps a few more pictures for you both to drool over later before abandoning his phone on the floor and getting his mouth back on you. His tongue circles your clit, groaning at the combination of fluids. No one has ever come inside you, which means no one has ever eaten their cum out of you. The deprived flare in your gut is one you’ll always associate with him.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, breaking under the curve of his digits between your worn walls. More violent shudders under the gentle passes of his mouth against your clit. Hopefully he’ll do this again next time in the privacy of your room; where he can lick you clean and spit the mess in your mouth for your own taste. “If you keep fingering me like that you’ll need to fuck me again.”

He takes the challenge for what it is, rubbing harshly on your inner walls, monitoring for tell tale signs. Sweat at your thighs, stomach dipping deep. The warmth in your veins flares dangerously.

“Stop that,” you grunt. He stops under the squeeze of your pussy, and has the nerve to pout.

“What?” he asks. The innocence is fake. Soonyoung found that spot long ago and it’s his favorite plaything when neither of you have a place to be and dirty sex is on the table.

“I’m not squirting in some strangers room, you freak.”

More firm grinds of his fingers against your g-spot, reveling in the clench of your jaw and how you get wetter. “Getting cummed in is better?”

“Keep doing that and you’ll never do it again.”

“You wouldn’t.” He knows you would. First hand experience when you locked him out of his own bathroom and moaned from the heavy flow of the faucet over your clit while he cried at the door after tried his hand at edging you. Or the times you’ve called him just to moan in his ear at the most inappropriate times because you felt like it.

“Try me. Don’t think I forgot about those cuffs in your dresser.” You force the hem of your top out of the way, tits on display just to torture him. “Now hurry up before someone catches us.”

Soonyoung wants to talk back but he won’t threaten his new privileges for some short lived satisfaction. He’s smart like that.

Tight suction on your clit has your eyes rolling, vision flared white. “F-fuck. That’s so good, baby. Just like that.”

You moan loud enough someone has definitely deduced what's happening in this corner of the house but you don’t care. Not with the laps at your core, or how he leans back to spit on it, adding to the mess. 

With a firm tongue, he rockets you into the abyss.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum,” you chant.

He doesn’t stop. Not until your thighs tighten and hips buck into his waiting mouth, fingers deep to the hilt. You coil around the sparks in your veins. A gut punch to your nerves that’s more vicious thanks to the sick slide of his cum still lubing your insides.

“Oh my god, you’re a freak,” you mutter. Soonyoung already back to kissing, heady with your taste.

He indulges you with more touching, soft massaging up the back of your legs as you melt into the mattress. “Where are your panties?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because,” he mumbles into your thigh. “I’m not paying the fine from Uber for getting cum on the seat. Now hand them over.” 

You pull them from your pocket with an eye roll and force them into his chest. You weren’t kidding about walking outside with his cum dripping down your leg but Soonyoung’s need for a modicum of public decency wins.

He shimmies the fabric up your legs before landing a kiss right over the crotch. “I will be back for you later.”

“You’re so lame,” you laugh. 

He sits up, chasing the sound until it fizzes across his tongue. A lazy makeout blooms between you. Even after everything, you still want each other. 

Cock soaked in his lap, it’s presented like a gift for you and you only. You slip down to the carpet, on your knees as he stands over you.  “Can you cum again? For me?”

“I think so y-yeah—shit.” He chokes on another moan when you squeeze him in a tight hold.

The wet suck of your mouth on his cock is close to torture, nerves fried from all you’ve put him through tonight. The familiar taste of cum and your pussy, two things you’ve licked from his skin frequently but never together, greets you. Makes sense why he’d want more of it.

You don’t ease him into anything. Grip tight, you jerk him into the bobbing rhythm of your head, curving him down the back of your throat with ease. 

“Fuuuck,” he grunts. A hand comes to the back of your head, forcing you down until you choke. Soonyoung is more than familiar with your limits. Challenges them frequently but this isn’t one of those times. He’s giving you the exact treatment you love: fucking your throat raw.

His cum leaks across your tongue, growing thicker until he throbs with a weak spurt. 

Leaning back, you suck down air greedily. “Good?”

Soonyoung bends at the waist to savor the warmth of your lips against his. He pulls you back on the mattress for cuddling without concern for his cock laying out in the open.

Typical. 

“I can’t feel my legs,” he says. 

“Wow, twins,” you jest. “C’mon lets get out of here before someone comes looking.”

As soon as you say it someone knocks at the door like the police, thunderous raps against the wood that dislodges you from his hold and onto the floor.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!” a shrill voice calls from behind the door coupled with a jiggle of the doorknob.

At least it’s locked.

“Uh oh,” you laugh. “Times up.”

Rushing to right your clothes, your thighs stick together from the tacky mess Soonyoung’s worked between them. Looks like everyone might see his cum on your leg after all.

Soonyoung is in shambles. A blushing sweating sight with a throat covered in bruises and lips swollen. There's a wet stain on his crotch from who knows what. You can’t possibly look any better but there’s nowhere to hide. Not with the subject of your revenge waiting.

When you open the door Blondie fumes on the other side. “Why the fuck—”

“My boyfriend wasn’t feeling well,” you smile. There’s cum at the corner of your mouth, thick and drying. You swipe a finger through it suck it away just to fuck with her. “Sorry.”

She gapes over your shoulder, finding your newly minted boyfriend she’d been flirting with thirty minutes earlier staring like a deer in headlights. Serves her right.  

Before she can rip your throat out, you snatch Soonyoung’s hand and pull him towards the exit.

“Oh my god,” you pant in the cool air of the street. “I thought she was gonna kill me.”

It’s quieter out here. The gentle woosh of the city takes over, tires rushing over raid soaked pavement and drunk laughter further up the road. 

Soonyoung is quiet next to you. Appraising you with hesitant curiosity as he speaks. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, preparing for rejection. “Got a problem with it?”

“No,” Soonyoung shakes his head with a squeeze to your fingers interlaced with his. “Just…gimme a second.”

“Oka—”

He turns around, arms thrown wide before bellowing, “YESSSSSSSSSS.”

A few lights come on, windows filled with the silhouettes of angry neighbors yelling back their discontent at the noise of Soonyoung’s cheers. 

He turns around with a proud smile you can’t help mimic.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’m cool.”

“Mmmm,” you hum in agreement, next thought silenced by a sweet kiss from your boyfriend.

It’s a short trip home. The silence of the car provides room to dwell on the new developments of the night.

If Sooyoung is your boyfriend, then, by default, you’re his girlfriend. The idea is foreign and still makes your skin crawl but when you work through that layer of instinctual rejection, it’s actually nice. 

Soonyoung tugs you into his orbit before you can get your keys out. "Just so you know, you really don’t have anything to be jealous about. I haven’t looked at another woman since the day we met." 

"Thank you?" 

"I'm just saying, I really like you. Like, really like you.” he pauses to tangle his arms around your waist so you can’t shy away from the confession. “But if this is how you act everytime you're jealous I wouldn't be mad." 

“Awwww,” you gush, booping him on the noise with a smile like knives. “Make me jealous again and I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“Let's go upstairs and you can smother me with something else.”

“Freak.”

“Be nice to your boyfriend,” he chastises.

“My freak?”

His face softens, still glowing at the corners but something like fondness shines through. “Much better.”

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[zhongrin]

a hybrid’s instincts

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, gorou, tighnari, (bonus) platonic!diona

◇ tags ◇ pregnancy, afab!reader, dragon!zhongli

◇ a/n ◇ what's that? will i ever stop pushing the dragon!zhongli agenda? hahahahahahahhahahhaha hhahaha ha ha- no.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

oh? what's this? it seems like your pregnancy triggered something in these men. their more… "animal side", perhaps?

ever since baizhu’s confirmation - actually, even weeks before that - zhongli has been very reluctant to let you wander out of the house. or even out of his sight, in general (which is quite strange since with his enhanced dragon senses you know he’s able to locate you within the house with no problems at all).

at night, you sometimes wake up to him in his dragon form. sometimes it’s his compact form nuzzling and he's purring near your stomach, sometimes it’s his half-dragon form where he’ll place his head beside your stomach with his tail curling around you protectively. it doesn’t matter whether you’re already showing or not; your heartbeat and the little hatchling’s brings him a sense of comfort that he needs, lest he becomes restless.

his nesting behavior is out of control. he’ll bring you all the pillows and blankets, surround you with the nicest smelling flowers, make you always wear his shirt, and he’ll bring anything you want to the bed so you don’t have to leave the nest. the further you are into your pregnancy, the more reluctant he is to leave you alone. he ends up taking that paternal leave hu tao has been telling him to get. bless her.

gorou is just as excited as he’s alerted. kokomi will have to force her best general to take a temporary leave from the army throughout your pregnancy because he’s so jumpy and sensitive to literally everything and his behavior is making all of the soldiers anxious.

gorou insists that you take a walk with him every day; just something light around the block to keep you from feeling lethargic. he’s also developed a habit to sniff everything that will touch your hand. yes, that includes your supposedly harmless change of clothes. it’s not ridiculous in his opinion! it’s a necessary precaution!!

will snarl when a stranger approaches you and tries to touch you in any way, even if it’s just a friendly gesture. he would be so embarrassed and apologetic about it afterward, but only once you’re at the safe haven of your house.

are you a forest ranger? an adventurer? does your profession require you to venture into the wilderness? welp, say goodbye to your job for the time being, because there is no way in any cycles of samsara tighnari would let you go into the dangers outside while you’re carrying his pups.

walking arm-in-arm whenever you're out and about is a must these days. whenever a villager congratulates you, you can sense his hold tightening despite the polite smile on his lips. if it was up to his instinct, he wouldn’t have let you get out of the house, but rationally he knows you need to move around and breathe in the fresh air.

though you still won’t be exempt from your beloved’s sassiness (”you want me to get you coffee…? do you think i’m an idiot?”) as long as what you ask for doesn’t harm you, he’s at your every beck and calls now, no question asked. you’re craving for collei’s specialized pita pockets? he’ll learn the damn recipe from collei herself and serve it on your favorite plate the next day. you want to be carried everywhere? good thing he’s got the physique fitting for the head of the forest rangers. you want ten kisses a day? say no more; he’ll give you thirty.

[bonus - platonic]

at first, diona seems super indifferent about it, only reacting with a ‘hmph… congrats, i guess’, but her actions speak louder than words. you know how cats tend to hover around pregnant women and even lay themselves near their bulging bellies? that's right.

no, you will not be having alcohol. no, your spouse will not be having alcohol. no, all the people within five hundred meters radius from you will not be having any single drop of alcohol. she won't allow those boozehounds to get close to you.

she’s so amazed at how your stomach keeps growing bigger every time you visit her. when you give her your permission, she’ll curiously poke and stare at your bump. her hand will gently pat your tummy as she unconsciously smiles. she starts to seek you out more often after that, telling you that she’s just there in case you need help, but you know she’s just worried about you. she would be such a good big sister to your baby!

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[ashwhowrites]

OMG I CANT BELIEVE REQS ARE OPEN YAYAAYAYAYAYAYYYYY

okay so basically i was wondering if you could do something with popular!bully!eddie x sensitive!reader

okay okay. so reader and eddie like each other but its a secret from the other and eddie bullies her lightly (cos he doesnt know how to deal with emotions) and shes super insecure cos she has like no friends and stuff and he went prom dress shopping with chrissy and saw reader there and teased her about the dress she picked and she got sad and cried at home then its prom and eddie's rejected everyone cos hes waiting for reader to show up and finally confess but shes nowhere to be found so he goes to her house with flowers or smth and he finds her crying and he comforts her and has her put her dress on and they kiss

IM SORRY IF THIS MAKES NO SENSE!!!

but thank you SO MUCH ash your writing is literally amazing it always has me in my feels <333 thank you for bringing so much happiness (and angst LMAO) to my feed!!

You are so sweet!! Thank you so much 🫶🏻I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting!

Prom Dress

Eddie never had a good hand on his emotions, he never learned how to express what he felt correctly. All he saw growing up was expressing emotions through anger. His dad was never around to tell him about girls and his mom was never there to teach him how a girl wants to be treated. So he went with what came naturally, except he barely ever felt real feelings towards a girl.

Until he met Y/N

Eddie was popular, it was easy to have girls on his arm and in his bed. But he didn't have feelings for them, so it was easy sweet talk and then they wouldn't talk again. But it was like his brain froze when he was in Y/N's presence. His sweet talk was out the door as he stuttered out something to say, and it was always a comment that sent her over the edge. He just didn't know that.

Y/N was a very alone person. She wasn't the best at making friends, making peace with being her own friend. She was insecure, never telling a boy how she felt because she knew it would go the exact way she thought it would. And when she realized her heart raced when Eddie walked in the halls, she knew that one would never happen.

Plus she has a good damn feeling he hated her guts. He added fire to the hell she lived in but there was something about him that she wanted. She allowed herself to be his punching bag because she felt alive when his eyes were on her. He was practically the only person that talked to her, and she didn't want to give that up.

Because at the end of the day, she had Eddie Munson's attention.

~~~

Eddie groaned as Chrissy picked up another dress to try on. He looked at his watch, annoyed that they had been in the same shop for two hours.

"At this point, Jason won't care what you pick. Can we please go?" Eddie moaned, his head thrown back as he sat on the uncomfortable chairs.

"You're fine. I have two more dresses and then we'll leave!" Chrissy sighed, going into the changing room.

Eddie moved his head back and looked around the store. He blinked a few times when he saw someone familiar. He stood up and slowly walked closer, squinting his eyes as a girl walked away from the register with a puffy pink dress.

"Y/N?"

She froze as she recognized the voice. Already on edge as she turned out. Panic in her eyes as she met his brown ones.

"Hi Eddie," she said, a small smile as she greeted him politely.

"Is that your prom dress?" He asked, his eyes looking over her shoulder as she held it.

"Yeah," she said quietly

"So you are going to prom? What? Alone?" He scoffed, a mocking chuckle left his mouth and Y/N shifted on her feet uncomfortably.

"Um, I don't know yet. Depends if someone asks" She shrugged

Eddie felt his body burn, a sense of discomfort thinking of someone asking her. Some guy takes her, takes pictures, and spins her on the dance floor. Someone she would have gotten dressed up for. He wasn't sure why the thought made him so damn angry. But the good news for him, he knew how to express anger.

"Ask you? You know that's not going to happen" he argued, his eyes dark as he stared down at her. "And while you are wearing that? A puffy pink dress, you think you are some fairytale princess? That dress looks like it's for a five-year-old old" He teased, but it wasn't his usual tease. This time it felt like every word he said sliced through her.

The one dress that fit her like a glove. The one dress that made every problem wash away. A dress where for once she felt beautiful.

She didn't say anything, just turned around and walked out of the store.

She cried as she raced to her car, harshly throwing the dress in the backseat. She cried the whole way home, feeling helpless in this world. She wasn't sure why it felt like everything was always up against her.

~~~

It was the night of the prom, and Y/N ignored the dress that hung up in her closet.

She bought it a week ago, a week since Eddie ruined the one bit of confidence she had left.

She wanted to return it, but the store wouldn't take it. So now she was stuck with a reminder that she would never be the gorgeous girl who walked into prom and changed everyone's perspective of her. She would still be that loser everyone laughed about.

So she stayed home. Her parents weren't too involved with her life, out on vacation as she sat on the couch. She watched romantic movies, crying as she stuffed her mouth with chocolate ice cream.

~

Eddie checked his watch for the tenth time of the night. The loud music overwhelmed him as he kept his eyes on the door.

"Want to dance?" A girl from the cheerleading squad asked.

"No thanks. I'm waiting for someone" he said with a tight smile, then moved his eyes back to the door

The prom started two hours ago, and she still wasn't there.

He turned down about ten dances before he took matters into his own hands.

He grabbed his keys from his pocket and hit the road. The flowers he bought sat in his passenger seat, guess he was going to drive them to her instead.

He pulled up to her driveway, letting out a nervous breath as he got out. He fixed his suit, patted down his hair, and gripped the flowers. He knocked on the door, stepping back as he waited for it to open.

"Eddie?" She was surprised, her body mostly covered by the door. Some sort of protection for herself.

He looked up and frowned. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet. And she wasn't anywhere near dressed up for prom. Her hair was down, but no makeup on her face.

"Hey, can I come in?" He asked

"Why?" She asked, covering her body even more with the door

"Why didn't you come to prom?"

She was surprised he even noticed. But she was more curious as to why it mattered to him.

"Didn't want to go. Is that all?" She snapped. It was enough that he could torture her at school and outside of school. But at her own house is where she drew the line.

"Um, uh, these are for you," he said shyly, not used to her face looking so annoyed and a snap in her tone.

She eyed the flowers as he held them out for her. She opened the door wider to grab them. They were truly beautiful and it was the first time she ever received flowers.

"Oh um thank you, Eddie," she said, smelling the flowers

"Can I come in? Maybe we can talk?" He asked, he twiddled his fingers as he waited for her to reply

"Uh sure but don't you have like a date or something?" She asked

"No, I was waiting for you," he said honestly, for once just saying what he felt instead of turning it into a joke.

She didn't know what to say so she opened the door and let him step inside.

She walked to the kitchen and got a vase for the flowers. He followed without asking.

"So why were you waiting for me? Was a big bucket of red paint gonna fall over me?" She asked, watching as the water filled the clear vase.

"No, why would I do that?" He asked, his head turned like a confused puppy

She laughed to herself bitterly

"Because you make my life hell" She looked at him like it was obvious. Softly placing the flowers on the kitchen table.

"I don't mean to, I'm sorry" his eyes looked sincere but she wasn't sure what trap he was waiting for.

"Then why do you do it?" She asked, her arms crossed as she angrily looked at him. Maybe this was her chance to finally stick up for herself and tell him to shove everything up his ass.

"Because I like you, and I wasn't sure how to show that" he explained, a small blush formed on his face as he muttered the words.

Y/N stood frozen as she stared at him like he had two heads.

Eddie confessed he liked her?

What kind of prank was this?

"Which I can see now I did in every wrong way possible. I'm sorry for everything, I didn't know I was upsetting you."

She sighed as the apology lifted some weight off her body. It felt nice to finally be apologized to.

"Thank you for apologizing," she said, a small smile on her face

"Thank you for allowing me to," he said, a shy smile on his face

They stared at each other, neither knowing what the next move should be.

"Can I uh see your dress? I saw it in the store but didn't get to see what it looked like on you" he asked, his eyes moving to the floor

"Are you going to make fun of me?" She asked, her arms crossed. Her protection shield is back up.

"No!" He shook his head dramatically, "I know my horrible take on flirting was more hurtful. So I will keep my mouth shut" he said

"That was flirting? God, you are horrible" she joked, loving the way the air shifted into something lighthearted. He laughed with her and agreed.

She led him to her room, allowing him to sit on the bed as she went into the bathroom to change.

She slipped on the pink dress, looking at herself in the mirror. That same rush of confidence filled her body. It was like the dress was magical and healed every broken part of her. She tried to reach the back zipper but couldn't get it. Her face was already on fire as she realized what she had to do.

She walked into the room, Eddie looked up from his hands and his mouth dropped. His eyes skimmed over her dress, the way it hugged her body perfectly.

"Could you zip me up?" She asked, turning around as she tried to keep her breathing normal.

He coughed and stood up. Wiping his sweaty palms on his suit pants. His fingers danced down her spine, making her shiver. He reached the zipper and slowly pulled it up, her skin disappearing under the fabric.

The room felt thick as she slowly turned around. The ghost of his fingers was still on her back.

"You look breathtaking," he said, his voice a quiet whisper as he looked into her eyes

She gulped when his eyes dropped down to her lips. Then he was slowly leaning in.

His hand moved up to hold her cheek, and his eyes moved up to her eyes to check for a sign of rejection. But her eyes were zoned in on his lips.

He smirked as he noticed, slowly leaning in until his lips pressed perfectly against hers.

She wasn't sure where to put her hands so she softly placed them on his chest. Her head turned as he deepened the kiss.

She felt like he kept chasing her lips, sucking away her breath as she gripped his suit in her fingers.

Her body buzzed with electricity. His lips and hands were softer than she thought they would be. His kiss was gentle and slow. Her stomach fluttered and her head spun.

He held back his moans as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. Her lips were soft and warm. Her hands on his chest made his heart race and his face flush. He tried his best to not get carried away, not wanting to scare her. His free hand slipped to her back as he pushed her further against him. He never felt this way ever when he kissed a girl.

She pulled back when she felt like she couldn't breathe. She took a huge puff of air into her lungs as they kept their faces close.

Panting against each other as they looked into each other's eyes.

Like she said, it was a magical dress.

Tags!

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[jgracie]

THE CHEMICAL, PHYSICAL KRYPTONITE! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ what spending prom with them would look like

masterlist | rules

in which you go to prom with the love of your life

pairings percy jackson & jason grace x reader

warnings none!

on the radio . . . shut up and dance (walk the moon)

an please dont ask what possessed me to write this i just had a vision i desperately needed to execute... also i despise these so sorry in advance LMAO lmk if u want a p2 w everyone else tho sorry its only 2 chars i could not write any more atm

i. PERCY JACKSON

Going to prom with the Percy Jackson is definitely every girl’s dream, which is why you thought you had absolutely no chance 

Why would he choose you, his best friend who he’s seen through all the awkward phases of elementary and middle school, when he had a plethora of cuter potential dates?

Wherever you went, people would stop you and ask if you knew anything about who Percy was going to ask, which you didn’t. Every question of theirs dampened your mood as they all reminded you Percy was going to have a date and it wasn’t going to be you

At least, that’s what you thought. Little did you know, you’re the only person Percy could ever have eyes for. You were there back when everyone was bullying him and calling him names, and from the moment you’d shown up to fend for him against the mean people in class, the boy was a goner

Your bravery and courage was something he’d admire for the rest of eternity, as well as your kind heart and your dazzling smile and your gorgeous eyes and, well, you get the gist

Over the years, Percy grew in popularity, but he never forgot about you. You were on his side when no one else was, and he’s had a massive crush on you for ages, so how could he?

One day, you’d gotten into the passenger seat of his car as you usually do after school. Ever since he found out you’d been walking to and from school every day, he insisted on picking you up, so the passenger seat became more ‘your seat’

Flipping down the sun visor to check how you looked in the little mirror as you usually do, you found a note taped to it, clearly written in Percy’s handwriting 

“Check the trunk for me? - P”

So, you got out to check the trunk and found a bouquet of flowers and a box of your favourite chocolates, as well as a lovely letter asking you out to prom. Turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with the man himself and quickly ran into his arms, a clear indication you would accompany him to prom

Being Percy’s date meant obviously showing up in sea themed outfits. You went back and forth on how you could best represent the ocean before settling on something reminiscent of The Little Mermaid, with you as the beautiful gorgeous stunning show stopping mermaid and Percy as the mediocre prince (his words, not mine)

Honestly, it was all so fun and the two of you were easily the best dressed as prom!!

You actually made quite a bit of your pieces yourselves and had movie marathons while doing so!! All of the movies were sea themed of course and Percy complained about all the inaccuracies in them but you love listening to him so it turned out fine :)

While Percy was in the bathroom during one of your visits to his house, Sally had given you the tiara she wore on her own prom day, insisting you wear it because she knew you were the one for Percy from the moment he uttered your name to her 

You were a little hesitant of course, since the tiara probably held a lot of sentimental value to her and you’d hate for something to happen to it, but she insisted and so you wore it on the day

Since Percy hadn’t been there for this interaction between you and his mother, he was shocked to see it sitting prettily in between your perfectly styled locks of hair, and he actually teared up a little because he knew how much that tiara meant to his mother 

The best part about prom with Percy is definitely the fact that he kept it casual. Not once did you feel intimidated or nervous about your every move, it just felt like any other afternoon spent in his bedroom 

When you’d confessed that you actually didn’t know how to dance, Percy said he was relieved because he didn’t either, and you spent the night making your own silly dances to all the songs instead

(Unbeknownst to you, he’d actually spent months learning how to ballroom dance from Sally and Paul as he desperately wanted to impress you, but it’s okay, seeing you light up while you made up the moves as you went along was definitely worth it)

ii. JASON GRACE

Jason had actually asked you out to prom the day before the event was supposed to happen

To you, this was pretty out of character for him, since he was the type to need plans made three months in advance. However, his late promposal was actually a result of his character

You see, he’d spent so long planning how he’d ask you out that he’d completely forgotten he actually had to do it at some point

Every day, he’d come up with a new way to ask you to prom, some really cute and some awfully outlandish, all of which Piper and Leo would tell him you’d love, but none of them felt right

Which, naturally, had him running right back to the drawing board. This needed to be perfect, since it was you he was asking after all

Meanwhile, you were close to settling for one of the many guys who’d been asking to take you to prom. Every day, you hoped you’d go to school to find Jason waiting to ask if you’d go to prom with him, and every day you’d go home disappointed 

Your friends had told you about how many of their boyfriends’ guy friends were really interested in you, but you just couldn’t go to prom with some random guy you didn’t care about

Luckily, you and Piper McClean were acquaintances. You didn’t really hang out much, but the two of you were the only girls in a class you took and so you obviously bonded during that

The day before prom, Piper had asked you if you were excited. You had huffed and ranted about how the guy of your dreams, Jason Grace, didn’t ask you out so you were probably going to go with some guy your friend recommended

Piper would’ve left class right then and there and ran to tell Jason if her grade didn’t depend on it. The class was first period though so it gave Jason the rest of the day to ask you out after Piper had told him her newfound information

So, Jason asked you to go to prom with him in the way he knew best: simply asking. You were over the moon and had to stop yourself from jumping around and screaming in the hallway, opting for a “sure, Jason, I’d love to!” instead

Since he asked you out last minute, the two of you hadn’t gotten to plan your outfits together. Luckily for you, Jason had a very extensive tie collection, so he could easily match his to the colour of your dress

Speaking of your dress, Jason had no idea what it looked like. When he saw you arrive at your living room, a shy smile on your face, Jason’s jaw quite literally dropped

(Imagine the Hermione Yule Ball scene)

Your parents teased the two of you RELENTLESSLY for this before you left. Although they’d just met Jason, they knew he was absolutely perfect for you based on that reaction alone

They took so many pictures before you left that they might as well have been taking one for every single member of the family

Gentleman Jason Grace obviously made sure to open the car door for you and treated you with utmost grace (haha so funny) the entire time! His hand never left yours and he showered you with compliments the entire time

When I say the two of you were the most iconic duo at prom, I mean it. Everyone’s heads would turn when they saw you and you won prom king and queen by a landslide!

Even long after you graduated, people would talk about the two of you at prom and how stunning you looked. Literally king and queen of the school

You did have to lead the way during prom since Jason was very underprepared. He was so busy figuring out how to ask you to prom that the fact that it was a social event with things to do completely slipped his mind

(He’d mention this during your wedding vows years later, telling you and everyone who was there how it served as a reminder for him to never overthink anything he wanted to ask you, which was why it didn’t take him very long to ask if you’d marry him)

Although the prom was fun, the two of you ended up ditching a few hours in and going on an impromptu date, making it official whilst sharing an ice cream sundae 

Bonus! Thanks to lovely anon we have an idea of what the prom transition tiktok would look like <3 this is for JJ and Smartiepants ofc…

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 8 (end)

1.6k | fluff The stray and his forever home (part 1)

“Bone apple tea.” You placed the cup of camomile in front of Simon.

“What?”

You pointed at your skull-printed shirt, the apple pie patch on his hoodie and the tea on the table. “Bone. Apple. Tea.”

He’d missed that brilliant smile too much. It was impossible to not want to kiss you. He chuckled as he pulled you to stand between his thighs.

That Sunday with your help, despite the pounding of his head, he packed the rest of his stuff and managed to move out. In the last few days he had before he left, he spent any possible moment with you, mainly eating his favourite Chinese takeout or cuddling on the couch.

Two months later when Simon came back, things crawled to how they were, with him visiting for dinner and leaving before midnight. Eventually, he stayed more and more nights a week, leaving more than a few of his shirts behind.

The divorce was finalised and his childhood home was sold. The city of Manchester didn’t mean gripping the straps of his backpack after school as he walked up the dreaded front steps anymore, nor sleeping restlessly lest someone barged in the door with another bizarre creature. The house was gone, along with the memories that breathed within the walls. He didn’t miss them.

His mum got a flat near Tommy’s and a job at a flower shop in the neighbourhood. ‘Not as nice as working with Ben’, she said. She had to buy her own bread, and none she’d found in the area tasted remotely close to how grand his were. She still cooked too much, but Tommy didn’t mind the extra whenever she dropped by. Little Joe always loved seeing his nana anyway.

Back from his next deployment, Simon held you at the door as he inhaled the warmth he’d missed terribly. After his shower, you showed him his shirts in their own drawer, not jammed between yours anymore. He smiled, pulling you in for a kiss.

In spring, he came with to visit your dad, insisting on wearing one of his dress shirts, even when you assured it was a regular lunch. He stood rigid on the porch, the neck of the wine bottle about to snap in his grip.

Your dad was taking too long. Was he arming himself before opening the door? Should he tackle and disarm him or take the shot like a man? He should have worn a tac vest.

“Si, relax.” You rubbed his back. “You’re already too tall. You’re going to scare my dad.”

Is that not a good thing?

Your dad (obviously unarmed) tried making small talk with him at lunch, but he sucked at it as much as Simon did, leaving you to do almost all the talking among the pauses. You only received short answers from the men who avoided each other’s gazes.

Also, who the bloody hell put the coriander in the chicken stir-fry?!

“Your dad hates me,” Simon declared as he drove home, the phantom taste of soap persisted on his palate despite the hours between.

“He doesn’t, I promise. He doesn’t even really like Chinese, but picked the place because I told him how much you love it. He really tried, but just doesn’t talk much with new people.” You stifled a laugh. “You should have cracked a few jokes.”

He gave you a deadpan look. “When we get home, I’m going to tickle you until you pass out.”

Home.

You’d made your flat Simon’s home too. You cleared another drawer for him, and another, and another, even when he didn’t have so many possessions. But you let him expand and take up the space he needed. He reordered a set of his ID discs for you to keep on your nightstand.

Things were… easy. Simple, like getting out of bed a little later on weekends. With his nose buried in your hair, arm around your waist pulling you flush to his chest, he held you in silence from dawn until you woke. Listening to your quiet breathing filled his chest heavy with warmth.

You’d asked multiple times if it bored him to be doing nothing, as if he didn’t lay prone behind rifle scopes for hours on end for a living. It didn’t, because being in your presence wasn’t nothing. You were real, and you were his.

You woke with a stir, a smile gracing your lips when you realised he was with you before your eyes opened.

“Good morning, my love.” He slipped the strap of your tank top off before peppering kisses on the nape of your neck down your exposed shoulder.

“Morning, Si.” You reached back to scratch his scalp.

He rolled you onto your back before crawling on top of you, kissing the column on your neck making you giggle with his weekend scruff. He pulled away to admire your eyes, always striking in the warm sun.

“Love looking at you.” You cupped his cheek, tracing the healed cut with your thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Si.”

He leaned in, and you stayed in bed a little longer.

In his shirt, you placed more toasts on the table.

“Two goldfish are in a tank…”

He handed you a buttered toast. “Don’t steal my jokes, luv.”

“It’s too lame to forget.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause I remember you howling at Tesco when I told it.”

“It was your first ever.” You smiled. “My favourite.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I was scary, luv?”

“I’m not sure they teach you to tell the scary bloke he’s scary in self-defence class.” You took a bite of the toast.

“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Are you out of jam?”

“Forgot to grab some yesterday, but I didn’t forget your limes.”

Simon became a bit of a pie connoisseur. He figured baking was better than sparring with the intention of beating someone up to a pulp. He tried different fruits (even declared himself a pro at peeling) and techniques, and eventually other varieties. That late Saturday morning, it was key lime pie.

“Why’s the cat so small?” you asked as you tied your kitty apron around his waist.

“Why?”

“Because it drank condensed milk.”

He liked that you were becoming more like him. “You too, it seems.”

You mock gasped. “Rude! You know I can take you, Si.”

“Not in a fight.”

You slapped his chest playfully earning a hearty laugh from him.

Volunteering at the soup kitchen became a regular occurrence too, along with his sergeants. Sam ended up dating one of the volunteers’ daughters, the one he was introduced to. Unfortunately, his two other sergeants hadn’t had as much luck on their side. ‘Does your birdie have sisters or friends, sir?’ Eric joked, but it barely masked his hopefulness. You assured you’d ask around if they promised to keep each other safe while deployed.

It got hard at times, when things went sideways and the missions lasted longer, or when he had no way to contact you or wipe the tears off your face.

Somewhere along the way, Simon listed you as his emergency contact. You weren’t supposed to find out this way. Not this soon, not from his captain calling you about how he was unconscious, dying from blood loss from getting his leg slashed.

The first thing he did when he astonishingly woke was to call you. He could ignore the sear on his thigh, or the fact that his eyelids weighed like lead, but not the guilt that sank into the pits of him when you were in a mess of tears.

“I’m so sorry, luv,” he croaked out of his throat that felt like sandpaper. “I mean it. I’ll leave this all behind if that’s what it takes to keep you. You just have to say the word.”

“Si, you don’t... always have to bend yourself backwards for others. I chose you for who you are, and I will keep choosing you, as long as you don’t give up on this. On us.” You sniffled. “Please come home soon. I need you with me.”

Simon was glad you stood by his decision to stay, because that afternoon a year after, as the major pinned on the new insignia onto his uniform, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when the mass erupted in applause.

Captain Simon Riley.

Among the crowd, next to Tommy and Beth, her belly carrying his niece, you had your arm around his mum, Joe’s hand in yours. From across the room, your sincere eyes made him feel like a hero, the most desirable man. He knew he wasn’t, but you looked at him like he was sunshine, and maybe, he was to you a little bit.

Nothing changed. Simon was still fatherless, still missed out on the memories a child deserved to have, but was never granted. Still bound to a past that wouldn’t go, but he was more than that.

He thought his dad was the only thing standing in the way of happiness, whatever it meant. He knew now. It wasn’t what he thought he wanted, wasn’t what he imagined, but it was perfect. This was what it was supposed to be like all along.

“For you,” he mouthed.

Simon Riley never wanted to be an oil painting admired by many, but he was, and always had been, a love note sealed with a kiss.

Line art from part 4

Masterlist

Thank you so much for sticking around until the end :) I greatly appreciate the support and kind words this little story has received. Take care!

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[sweetnans]

I set myself on fire to keep you warm.

Pairing: f. reader/Bakugo Katsuki.

tw: mention of break up, mention of violence but not described because bakugo isn't a bad boy, soft and persistent bakugo. SMUT +18 minors don't interact. (Soft sex)

a/c: the end of this trilogy, I hope you liked it 💕

Part 1

Part 2

After the party, you didn't see him for a while. At least two weeks. A group of villains attacked his quadrant for a week straight unfolding in pairs each day. Even Shoto, your new partner, had to change teams and do a backup job.

The truth was that you were dying to know about him, and that felt wrong.

Friday came quickly, and so your day off. You were parking outside of your house, bringing the grocery bag with you and some little things you found that could work with your new home decoration. You even bought flowers for your new vessel.

Quickly, you turned the tv on, not expecting to see Bakugo in action, defeating a giant villain on the screen. The scenery was already controlled by the pros, Deku, Chargerbolt, and Cellophane were there, working as a team.

You changed the channel looking for a reality show, something that didn't remind you of your ex and everything that occupied your mind since the last time you saw him, like calling him, for example.

Silly girl knows better, right? But, what if he was hurt?

You shook your head and poured a glass of wine in a cup. That glass of wine turned in two, and when you noticed what was happening the bottle was already empty.

You scrolled through your socials, the guys were headline in almost every page, even the group chat of endeavor agency made a special shout out to them, filling your phone with photos of him in high definition.

You: I think I'm going to do something I might regret.

You waited for the response from Mina but nothing happened. You could blame her later for what was about to happen.

His contact was opened on your screen, the green button functioning as a magnet to your fingers. What was the harm in calling him? You could just ask about the fight, professionally purpose only, to gather techniques. After all, you were a little rusty in battle combat.

You were just making excuses not to feel like a shitty person. You needed to get your head clear but right now you were about to cry. Damn, you missed the bastard.

That was the hint you needed to press the button.

It ringed, one, two, three times.

"Hello?" He asked, agitated.

You felt nostalgic. After every big fight, he liked to steam some stamina off. To cool it down, like he used to say.

"If this a fucking prank you'll hear from me, I'll blast your shitty ass to-

"Hey," your voice sounded light.

You could hear how he dropped the weight he was lifting.

"Is that you?" He murmured, not believing. Maybe it was a prank from one of his friends. No, they would never do that to him. They feared him enough.

"Mmhm," you nodded even if he couldn't see you.

Silence flowed in the line. It was awkward, but not in the bad way. It was awkward for Bakugo, at least, because he never expected to be you when to phone rang. He knew that he had to be the one trying, but right now, after the party, after the fight, he was just taking his time to think about his next step.

"Are you drunk?" He asked straightforwardly.

"What? No!" You tried to defend yourself, but the uncommon pitch in your tone gave you away.

"You sound like it." You could feel his smug smile appearing on his face.

"I'm not gonna lie. I had this bottle of wine, and it just poofed itself out of existence, " you sighed. You were tipsy, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

He barked a laugh. A real one. The kind of laugh that made you feel it inside your bones. The kind of laugh that you missed for an entire year.

"It seems to me that you just chugged the bottle all by yourself." The tone in his voice was playful and his mind started to get those memories where you used to call him everytime you went out with your friends, finding a way to leave your friends alone and sneak to the bathroom or some place quiet just to hear his voice and tell him to pick you up earlier.

"How do you know that I'm by myself?"

The question made him shake his head.

"If you were with Mina or with somebody else, you wouldn't have called." He was probably right, you thought to yourself, Mina would've melted your phone down with acid before you even thought of calling your ex.

He liked the way that conversation flowed. With you, the talking about everything, the expressing, the feeling, everything was so easy for him. He felt nostalgic and eager to win you back. He needed this in his life, and he needed you.

"For the record, I warned Mina that I was going to do something stupid"

"Do you think this is stupid?" He pried for your answer. The moments you were taking to answer something so simple got him on the edge of the gym bench. "No bullshit, okay? Because I don't think this is stupid at all"

You closed your eyes for an instant, trying to think aside from the alcohol boost. You needed to get your mind clear because you had this idea in your mind, but once the idea left your mind, it was over for you and for him. In a good way.

"Why don't you pick up your stuff and come home already?"

...

To say that it took him ten minutes to arrive at your house is just an exaggeration. He made it in seven when most people took at least twenty. You were waiting for him in the front porch, the same porch that he paced over and over the first time he saw you in a year. You were standing there, with your arms crossed in front of your chest because the night was cold, but, you wanted to be there to see him, to wait for him, and to feel the excitement that was seeing him after a long day or in this case, week.

He saw your figure from his car. The tinted glass did him a favor. He was sweating. He couldn't stop rubbing his hands in his pants to ease the feeling of wetness and couldn't stop looking at you while doing it. Bakugo realized that he was taking much time regulating himself so he turned off the car and breathed three times to try to calm his heartbeat. It didn't work. He never had been that pented up about something, not an interview, not even a fight, but now his heart was about to explode.

You waved your hand at the sight of him. He didn't reciprocated but instead, he stomped to your front yard, opening the small gate that led to your garden. He climbed one step and the other so his face would be at the same level from your face.

"Hi," you said again, smiling fondly. God, you've missed him.

"Hey princess," he used the same petname that he has called you since he met you.

"Do you want to come in? Or should I go for myself so you can stay and find my spare key and use it? " You asked jokingly. He rolled his eyes but smiled a bit. "I swear that it's in a better spot, I hid it so well this time, you'll never going to find it"

"I bet you bought those fake ass rocks online and put it underneath it"

He knew you like the palm of his hand. You looked shocked, but he was just smug about it. Bakugo found it cute how you could be so naive with your antics and how he could easily read you even in the most idiotic things.

"Fuck, it's always so hard with you. Not my fault that you have such a big brain. " You flicked his forehead, and he was quickly to take your hand in his.

"Not my fault you don't even try"

That was sort of a deja vù. You used to fight on and on when you were in UA. Aizawa sensei loved putting you and him in spare combat that mostly ended up in the both of you yelling at each other. That line was one that you two used the most when he got you pinned down to the floor mat.

You laced your fingers with his fingers and led him inside your house. The TV was on, replaying one of your favorite episodes from your comfort series. He could recite the complete episode without missing a word because he was there every time you put it on his tv.

"You are watching this crap again?" He said mockingly.

"It's a classic, and I needed to do all the things I usually do when I have a bad idea in mind in order to keep it out, but right now, the bad idea is standing right in front of me" you stuck your tongue out and he pinched your nose a little giving you a peak of his soft side.

The vibe was thrilling. It felt like static vibrating his and your heart. You could feel his presence in your skin, aching for his touch, and he could feel your delicacy and love, always wearing your heart upon your sleeve.

"I'm going to make you some food so you can worn the booze off," he walked like he owned the place and moved around your kitchen gracefully, knowing exactly where you placed all the pots and ingredients.

The mere fact that he was there, like old times, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The domestic treat of him taking care of you never got old in your senses. You had your moment, running away after the argument and the bad mental time that you were having because of lack of reasoning, then you completely ghosted him, trying to put in the past six years like he was nothing. And there he was, acting like nothing ever happened.

"These are very rare. Where did you get them?" He asked, lifting one of the ingredients and taking you out of your dissociation.

"Mhm, I don't remember," you told him, sparing a glance to the object. You walked towards him until you were by his side.

"What?" He said, contemplating your gaze.

You softened your face, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. Alcohol made you emotional.

"I'm so sorry," you told him.

His body was stiff, like a rock, but his emotions were blossoming in his face. He turned off the stove and passed his right arm behind your neck, pulling you to his broad chest. He took the chance that you weren't seeing him to give himaself out, exposing every feeling and every thought he had been running in his mind for the past year.

"I'm sorry too, baby," he murmured in your head. "I was supposed to be by your side, and I failed, I was a bad excuse of a boyfriend"

"I should've never abandoned you," you cried.

"I wasn't the one you deserved," he explained. "Right now, I know I am, fuck, I would even set myself on fire to keep you warm, to keep you by my side, to make you happy"

Your tears stained his shirt, leaving marks all over his pecs. He placed gentle kisses in your hair, soothing every regret and remorse out of your system.

You pulled yourself out of his embrace to look at him in the eyes.

"I never stopped loving you," you whispered.

He looked at you like you were his dreams come true. His eyes were glossy, wandering every inch of your face, looking for maybe a mistake, for you backing out of what you just said, but he didn't find a trace of guilt. You were genuine.

He couldn't keep it anymore.

His lips graced yours carefully, waiting for you to flinch or for a reaction so he could stop, but once again, you were eager too, you wanted him in every possible way.

Your lips smashed together, tearing apart all your armors. His lips graced yours, and his tongue made his way to your lips, tracing patterns until you opened for free access. He was desperate to taste you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him closely, and then moved your hand to his neck, tugging the baby hairs of the nape of his neck.

"I like your new hairstyle" you mentioned in between sloppy kisses.

"Yeah?" He asked lost in you.

"It's different, shorter in the sides, you look pretty hot," you giggled when his smug smile crashed in your lips. "Don't let that compliment get over your head please"

"Oh, it's already there," he said, grabbing your thighs with one hand and tapping your lower back for you to jump.

You jumped, and he catched you without any effort, putting you on the kitchen table. Even with that boost of inches, you were just the same height as him, looking him straight in the eyes. His mouth was swollen and red, and your lipstick smuged in his lips. Before you could wipe it off, his lips found your neck, and he started kissing and nipping.

"Oh my, Katsuki," you moaned, he grunted at the sense that you were not able to control yourself anymore.

"Damn baby, I don't how I lived without you like this"

You locked your legs on his lower back, leaving him against your core, making you feel the heartbeat of your two members pulsing against each other.

His dick was already twitching in his pants and you were wet just for a few kisses. The time apart made its job. You weren't sure if you could take much time without feeling him completely inside of you.

"Baby" you panted. "I need you, like right now"

He always liked you when you mouthed your desires. It wasn't so common of you, so when it happened, it pented him up even more.

Beneath all the anger and sadness that he felt because of you leaving him, it was this Katsuki, the one who was like a kid with you, the one that could forgive you for everything you do knowing that you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. If you were right here with him, that was enough for him to put all his trust with you again.

You wouldn't leave him either.

Katsuki could feel you writhing against his body. After your plead, he detached his lips out of your neck and moved his hands to undone his pants first, taking all the breath of your lungs because the sight of his cock.

"Shit," you murmured to yourself, but his side smile made you notice that he heard that too.

Without any words, he grabbed your waist to pull you more to the edge of the kitchen table, positioning you to make you two more comfortable. After that, he decided that it was better for the two of you to take you on the kitchen stool, so he grabbed your ass and, without even thinking of it, nor even warning you, he took you and left you sitting in front of him.

"Are you sure?" His voice low ringed in your ears. You didn't want anyone but him. You nodded, allowing him to take off your pajamas shorts. "Open your legs," he demanded, and you obeyed.

In mere seconds, you were exposed to him. Glistening eyes wandered your body like it was sculptured by gods.

God damned him if he loses you again.

Putting his forehead against yours, he aligned himself in your entrance. He showered your nose with little pecks, trying to dissipate the growing but pleasant pain inside you.

"Fuck" you moaned against his lips and he swallowed all your pants like it was an elixir.

"You feel so good, baby," he muttered, buckling his hips into you.

He made it slow at first, but then, you could feel his balls slapping, putting the perfect amount of friction that you needed to be close to cloud nine. You were aching for him, following his pace to make it more delectable. He bit your shoulder to release some stamina and last a little longer, but he couldn't fool no one. His balls were tightened, trying to suppress the instinct to free his load inside you.

"I wont last long" he assured. "It's been a year"

His faint breath against your shoulder made you shiver.

"What? You didn't-"

"No. I tried, " He answered before you could even ask.

"Did you?"

You were curious. You couldn't blame yourself for wanting to know what did Katsuki in your year outside.

"I mean, I tried to date but never made it to the date part. Deku tried to set me up once, but I never showed"

That was kinda sad for the other person, waiting for him and getting nothing but an empty seat.

"I went out a few times, but I always ended up talking about you" you added in between pumps. "Even from a distance you cockblocked me"

He grunted low, almost devilish, like it was everything he ever wanted.

"That's what I needed to hear, that this little pussy is just f'me" he said in the shell of your ear giving you full of his length, filling you nicely and touching with the head of his dick your g-spot repeatedly.

"Shit, fuck, Katsuki-" you were out of breath. He was riding you nice and slowly. "Keep going, keep going, shit"

"Fucking, fuck god"

His seeds sprouted inside yourself, painting your walls with white stripes. Your core squeezing his cock in a way that got him almost gripping to the kitchen table.

You couldn't keep your thoughts in your mind while your orgasm crashed with his together in an instant. He grabbed you by the hair, pulling it back to leave you exposed to him. Panting against your neck, he closed the distance, giving you little kisses in your throat while caressing your thighs with his other hand, your legs trembling on each side of his body.

"A year is too much," you said, touching the locks oh his hair. He let go of your hair just to look at your eyes. You looked exactly how you looked when he fucked your brains out.

"From now on, you're not leaving my side if you want to go and find yourself, we'll find you together"

He was dead serious, but the look on his face made you extremely happy so you couldn't hide your smile.

"I don't need to find me anymore, I know exactly who I am and what I want," you said, trying to give him all sense of security back. He never doubted your words.

That night was his dream came true. You, half naked, against his chest in his big ass bed that he once thought it was too big for him alone, your legs intertwined with his, soft pants leaving your lips. You wouldn't go anywhere.

He knew that, eventually, you would be like this with him. He knew that he needed to be better for him and for you first. He knew that time would patch everything up and make you come back. He knew that this time, he would do everything in his hands to make you happy.

What he didn't know is that you were counting the days to make your way back to him.

He was absorbed in his thoughts while you sleep soundly in his arms. Thinking about the future, to be better, thinking about the past, to not making the same mistakes. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, and also, he couldn't wait to rub the news to Deku and to make him feel like a loser for setting him up with a poor girl who never stood a single chance.

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