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youwouldntlietopapa · 2 years ago

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Amore Mio - Ch.2

Sorry this chapter too fucking ages. No real warnings on it, except to say that this is untranslated. For a fully English on, click here.

Also available on AO3.

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No, no, no…

“Non mi aspettavo che andasse così lontano. Sapevo che sarebbe stato scontento, ma è sempre scontento...”

They can’t send you away… Not now. Not after everything you two just talked about. This is your place. With him. At very least, if it had been Secondo’s anger you were facing, you know him. You know his heart. You could maybe, maybe find a way to make him see your intent, to see sense. But Nihil and Sister Imperator… they’ve never been fond of you. They don’t owe you any leniency or understanding. It feels like someone kicked you in the gut, like all the air’s been knocked out of your lungs. The tears burn your eyes and spill over while you gasp for breath. Secondo is still sitting in front of you, but you can’t make yourself think about it. It hurts too much.

“Amore, guardami. Messa a fuoco.” He says a little sharply. Not cruelly, just trying to shake you out of your panic. His hands are on your shoulders, big and warm and grounding. Only letting go to wipe away your tears. “Respira, Tesoro. Respira e basta.”

Secondo pulls you gently closer, wrapping his arms around you. Holding you protectively. Your hands are on his robe, grabbing the fabric in a white-knuckled grip. Every apology you had desperately scrambled for on the long walk back comes tumbling out in such a frantic rush, it’s nearly incomprehensible. Certainly to Secondo, of all people. He sits patiently, letting you get it out of your system. Slowly rubbing your back. Finally leaning back enough to look at you.

“Amore… please… You need to breathe for me.” He wipes your cheeks again. “Did you hear what I say before? Hmm? I say to you, I have a solution. A plan. Si? So no one ever sends you away. No one ever makes you go.”

That, at least, lets you take a breath. He wouldn’t lie about that. Not him. He is a man of many sins, but lying to you hasn’t ever been one of them. You’ve never known him to lie about anything, really. Not out of any sort of piety. Only that blunt honesty comes much easier to him. “I’ll do anything you say, anything. Just please don’t make me go.”

Secondo shakes his head and smiles a little sadly. “No, amore. No. Not like this. This you only do if you want it. No doing because I tell you. You understand?” He waits for a nod and kisses your forehead. “I need you to listen to me first, si? You can do this for me?”

Again, you nod, staring at him and praying to the Dark Lord for a solution.

“Questo... non è così che ho pianificato le cose, Amore. Sai chi sono. Pensa troppo, preoccupati troppo, pianifica troppo. Ma ho bisogno che tu sappia questo... questo non è per necessità. Si tratta di piani attenti, a lungo ponderati e meticolosamente organizzati, purtroppo richiesti molto prima del previsto.” When you open your mouth to speak, he holds up a finger and you stop without argument. “Te lo giuro, manterrò i miei programmi. Ma, per stasera, se sei d'accordo, faremo le cose in fretta.”

For a moment you wonder if maybe the panic finally broke you, or if Secondo has suddenly decided to take up talking nonsense. But you’re not quiet sure what he’s talking about. Even less so when he stands up and gently turns you to sit directly on the edge of the bed, facing him.

“Ti amo, mia regina oscura, mia Lilith. Più della vita stessa. Il mio cuore è tuo. Ora e sempre.” His hand dips into his robe pocket and you watch as he drops to one knee. “Sei tu quello con cui voglio svegliarmi accanto. Tu sei quello che mi fa sentire amato. Tu sei quello... che si sente come a casa e gioia e pace.”

You barely notice the sound of the lid opening, too focused on his face and his words. But Secondo lifts up the box holding the ring. Platinum and emerald and black diamond. More than just a ring, a statement to anyone who sees it. I belong to him.

And you do. Completely.

“Sposami, amore mio. Sposami e sii mio, sempre.” That gentle, almost timid tone again.

As if there were any possibility you would have ever said no. And of course he had it all planned out, even without the explanation (that finally sinks in) you can see that. He had the ring already. Just waiting for the right moment. A right moment that was currently going up in flames because of your outburst. Leaving you both horrified knowing what it cost him and, once again, awed and overwhelmed by his willingness to sacrifice for you.

Jumping so quickly from blind panic to feeling like your heart might burst from joy leaves you dizzy and breathless. Your arms are around his neck, crushing yourself against him, not even processing that you haven’t said anything at all. Secondo wraps his arms around you, holding you tight. Chuckling softly with relief.

“È un no, Amore?” He teases lightly.

You lean back to look him in the eye, this man who had been so impenetrably guarded behind a lifetime of armour, finally shedding the last of it to offer up his heart. You’re not sure what you’ve ever done to deserve this blessing but, Satanas, you wouldn’t turn it down for all the world.

“Certo... Certo che lo faro'. Sei tutto il mio mondo, Secondo. Non c'è nessuno tranne te.” You don’t trust your voice with more than a whisper. Even then, your voice shakes. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. Only him. You lean in to kiss him deeply.

It’s a long few minutes before either of you are willing to think of anything else, much less the urgency called for this evening. Too consumed by your own small, private celebration. When another knock at the door snaps you both back, unwillingly, to reality, Secondo kisses you once more and gets up to answer. No stomping or threats this time. Not happy about being interrupted, but at least this one is less of a surprise.

You get up off the floor and retie your robe, slowly trailing after him. Expecting another visit from Terzo who, you gather, is throwing something together as quickly as possible. If he’s pulled it off this quickly, you think, he deserves some kind of Guinness record. Fastest Satanic Wedding arrangements ever made. It’s not Terzo who steps in however, but Primo.

Secondo’s older brother smiles calmly, as always. He never seems to be in any particular rush, not since retiring. His garden keeps him busy and most people have learned that making demands of him or getting on his nerves is a good way to end up regretting all of your life choices. From the way he’s dressed, you suspect Terzo dragged him out of a quiet night in. One more thing to add to your growing list of things to repay him for. At least Primo doesn’t seem noticably upset about it.

“Yes, yes. I hear it all from Polpetto.” The retired Papa waves away his brother’s attempted explanation like a bothersome fly. He looks over Secondo with a critical quirk of his eyebrow. “Maybe put on some trousers before you go help him, Piccino. Before he gets himself into trouble. I will take care of this.”

He makes a sour face at the old nickname and Primo takes no notice. The two of them stare at each other, waiting to see who will break first. As much faith as you have in your love, your money is on his older brother every time. And, once again, he proves to be the bigger force of nature without so much as lifting his finger. Secondo huffs and goes to do as he’s told. He does, however, pause to kiss you first in an act of blatant defiance which earns him an eye roll from his older brother.

“Stiamo facendo tutto questo perché tu possa tenerla, lumacone. Se continui a trascinare i piedi, non servirà a niente.” He chastises and smirks at you. “Are you sure this is the one you want, Sorella? He doesn’t listen so good.”

Secondo levels a glare at him, but holds his tongue. You get one last, quick kiss. “Non ci metterò molto.”

You and Primo both watch as he goes to put on some clothes and leaves to find Terzo. Ending up staring at each other.

“Papa…”

“Primo.” He corrects gently.

You nod, feeling your cheeks getting hot. “Primo, I don’t mean to sound rude but… Why are you here? Secon-”

“Terzo organizes the ceremony part. I organize the bride part.” He chuckles softly. “My fratellini, they have many talents. This falls… outside their specialities.”

Bride. That word feels odd. Still, you manage a crooked smile. “Are you suggesting that Secondo isn’t a wonderful hair and fashion stylist?”

He grins. “I’m sure he would find you something to wear. But maybe not so good for a wedding as a club, si? And hair? Secondo, no. Terzo? He would surprise you, Sorella. Unfortunately, he is busy. So you get me.”

Your smile at that is an earnest one and you step closer to kiss his cheek. “Lucky me.”

“Attenta, piccola colomba.” Primo teases. “Hai già vinto sui miei fratelli. Litigheremo tutti e tre per te se continui così.”

“Wait? Brothers?” You blink at him, a little confused. “Terzo and I aren’t…. What did he say???”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Forgive me, Sorella. I tease. But I think your little… outburst has him quite smitten.”

“Wonderful, Secondo will love that.” You snort. “In mia difesa, non ho solo iniziato a gridare. Non potevo semplicemente sedermi lì e ascoltarlo parlare con loro in quel modo.”

“You don’t have to explain to me.” Primo softly pats your arm. “I’m proud of you. And happy for him. He needs a fighter. But, we need to hurry, si? First, you shower. Then we work and we chat. I like a good gossip.”

You let yourself be herded into the bathroom without argument or complaint. It’s not worth the time to waste your breath on either. Secondo may have a reputation for being a hard, unyielding man but it’s his brother who is truly made of iron. Besides, a shower will allow you a little time just to think and process everything that’s happening.

The temperature is still set at Secondo’s customary scalding hot and, for once, you don’t turn it down. More interested in staying focused than being soothed. As much as you’ve teased him about needing to be lapped at by hellfire first thing in the morning, you’re starting to see the appeal. Scrubbing yourself pink and raw in the nearly intolerable hot water makes it easier to sort through the hurricane of thoughts and emotions raging in your head and easier to focus on solutions and plans. Maybe his routine isn’t quite as masochistic as you thought.

By the time you’re finished and the bathroom is filled with steam, you actually feel a lot better. You can hear the soft sounds of Primo moving around the quarters outside while you work on getting yourself halfway presentable. He is remarkably good, you realise, at knowing just what to do and nudging people in the right direction. In a way that often goes unnoticed. Of Secondo’s brothers, he’s the one you’ve spent the least time with, not out of any sort of dislike. He is just not often in the spaces you tend to occupy. He likes his quiet and his garden, while your duties are more likely to keep you confined inside and busy. Something you need to remedy.

It’s immediately apparent that he’s been busy, and not shy about going through your personal things. There are three dresses laid out on the bed, a handful of jewellery options to match, and two pairs of shoes. You’re forced to admit, he was right. Neither Secondo or Terzo would have put as much thought and effort into this task. As for Primo, he’s made himself quite at home, setting out a pot of tea beside your hair accessories. Almost gleefully seeing to his duty with complete focus and dedication.

“Ah, you see, signorina? Better already, no?” He grins and pats the seat he has set for you. Before you can sit, he kisses both of your cheeks and steps back to look at you. “Bellissima. Lo ammetto, il mio fratellino ha sempre avuto un gusto eccellente.”

You blush deeply, taking a seat and the offered tea gratefully. Teasing him lightly. “E hai pensato che fossi troppo un flirt?”

Primo chuckles. “Ah, non posso farne a meno. È genetico. Hai conosciuto la mia famiglia. Siamo tutti così. Almeno non sono così male come Terzo, eh?”

It’s impossible not to laugh. “No one is as bad as Terzo. Although… I’ve heard plenty of stories about you too.”

He gasps theatrically and looks back at you in the vanity mirror with an almost convincing shock. “Who is telling such lies about me, Sorella? I will have them punished!”

“We both know Terzo is a terrible gossip. Besides, the more I get to know you, the more I’m inclined to believe him.”

Primo makes a disapproving noise, but there’s mischief in his eyes and he finally chuckles. “Terzo doesn’t know even half the stories. He reminds me too much of myself, il mio fratellino.”

He talks as he works and you ease into a more calm familiarity. Much like his brothers, he’s charming and kind in ways most wouldn’t expect. Attentive and observant. You find he has a skill for getting you to open up without prying and giving his entire attention to you and your words. Secondo only speaks rarely about growing up, but it’s never without a mention of Primo. Even without knowing every detail, you know who was really responsible for making sure he and Terzo were looked after, loved, and given the guidance to become the men they are. When Primo himself talks about them, there’s a pride in his eyes that makes your heart feel full to bursting.

“… Primo?” You ask after a brief quiet in conversation.

He stands behind you, putting the finishing touches on your hair. “Yes, Sorella?”

“I feel I need to apologise.”

Looking back at you in the mirror, he raises a brow. “For what?”

“Just… I’ve been with your brother for a long while now and, somehow, I’ve never managed to make the time to really get to know you. I feel like I’ve done myself a great disservice and that I’ve been unintentionally rude to you.”

Primo smiles calmly and shakes his head. “There is nothing to apologise for. I know our Siblings are busy and I know too well that my fratello will keep you even busier. If anyone should apologise it is me. It is my duty to welcome our Siblings. To be available to meet with them. And, more than that, someone should have welcomed you. To the family.” He places the last hairpin and steps around to look at you properly. “You especially, piccolina. Don’t think I don’t notice how much he changes since he found you. You are good for him, you don’t take his shit. He complains to me once or twice and I say to him you want someone who never talks back? Never tests you? Someone who won’t tell you when you are being a cazzo di stronzo? Then you go back to the clubs for women who don’t care. Who only want a fuck. If you want someone who loves you, who knows you - good and bad, who stays anyway, who cares for you more than for fucking? Then stop your whining, pull your head out your ass, and go apologise for being a prick.”

Deep down you know that it shouldn’t make your eye well up with tears or cause a lump in your throat to hear it. On any other day, you’d probably laugh at the thought. But just then it feels like a weight off your shoulders to be so trusted. Not just by Secondo but by his older brother. His approval will always carry more weight than anyone’s and it feels like a blessing you’re determined to be worthy of.

He offers a hand helping you up, taking a cloth handkerchief from his pocket to carefully dab your eyes. “Perdonami, fiore mio. Oggi non è un giorno per le lacrime e, eccomi qui, a farti piangere.”

“No, no, please.” You catch his hand in both of yours. “I just… I know what your opinion means to him. You’ll see your trust in me isn’t misplaced.”

“I know it isn’t.” He says with certainty. “Secondo is… a difficult man for many. He doesn’t give out his heart. To anyone. For you is not so hard. Not easy, but you stay. He trusts you. With his heart and, now, his life. If he can trust you, I trust you.”

“Thank you…” You say softly, giving his warm hand a gentle squeeze. “And thank you for him. He… he would never say it, not directly, but I’ve learned a few things since we’ve been together. I can say with certainty it’s not your father I have to thank for the man he is. Not in any way that’s complimentary, anyway. But you… It’s not Papa Nihil he looks to for council. It’s not him he goes to in times of trouble, or when he needs advice, or to hear that his efforts aren’t in vain. It’s you. Always. Nihil is his father because he spilled his seed… You’re his father because you actually raised him.”

You stretch up and softly kiss his cheek. “I’ve seen what a gentle, loving, kind, understanding man he can be. The world may not know that man, but I do. And I know that’s thanks to you.”

Primo clears his throat and wipes his eyes before waggling a finger at you. “Che cosa ho detto, principessa? Oggi non è un giorno per piangere.” Still he offers a warm smile and a kiss on the forehead. “Sono solo felice che qualche lezione sia riuscita a superare quella sua testa dura. E digli che ho detto che se manda tutto a puttane, ti sposerò io stessa.”

“Is that a threat?” You chuckle.

“A promise.” He winks. “Now go get dressed or we’ll be late.”

#ghost fanfic #papa ii x reader #fluff mostly #MDNI

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redros3y · 3 months ago

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real (please)

you’re one of those girls that’s always batting your eyes at Harry. not cause he’s the chosen one, just cause he’s hot. he tells you Luna fixed his broken nose and you say somethin cute like “aww thank god, wouldn’t wanna mess up that face!!” and he gets all flustered and kinda stutters a little bit and then says “yeah.. uh yeah.. thanks? thanks.” you’re making his no-longer-broken nose a whole thing. you’re doting on him, dabbing blood off of his face with a cloth in the common room bathroom. you’re just really close to eachother’s faces on accident and the real mystery of the day is who kissed who first? doesn’t matter, y’all are kissing. his blood is on your face but it doesn’t slow either of you down. his hair is so soft when you tangle your fingers through it. whatever. you’re making out with Harry Potter while blood is dripping down his face and you’ve imagined kissing him sooo many times but it still manages to be better than you thought it would be, and he’s shocked it’s happening at all cause you’re so hot. when you guys pull away and he sees the little smear of blood across your lips and nose he’s profusely apologizing knowing damn well he’s just getting harder the longer he looks at you. he’d never tell you that, though

bonus, he’s lamenting to Ron later: “what the hell was i s’posed to say? aye, you look bloody hot with my blood all over your face? she’d think i was stark raving mad!” and Ron’s going “you never know what birds are into these days, mate” shaking his head and shrugging

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #fluff mostly

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snail-day · 2 months ago

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Satoru thinks he might actually be going insane.

Not in a funny way. Not in a "haha I'm so in love” way, no, like actual, clinical insanity.

Because you’re curled up in his lap again, cheek pressed against his chest, humming happily to yourself while scrolling through your phone with your legs draped over his thighs and he’s just… sitting there. Letting it happen. Pretending to watch the movie while his brain is trying to process the weight of your affection.

He doesn’t move. Barely breathes. If he breathes too hard, you might remember he’s just your roommate and move.

His hands are hovering like he doesn’t know where to put them. He wants to hold you so bad it physically hurts, but what if that’s weird? What if you’re just cold and he reads too much into it? What if you get up and say “God, Toru, you’re so clingy,” and then never touch him again?

So he just lets his fingers twitch uselessly against the couch cushion while you hum something under your breath and burrow deeper into him.

He’s so. Pathetic.

He lets you steal bites of his food. Lets you nap on his chest. Lets you crawl into his bed in the middle of the night with sleepy eyes and say “Nightmare,” expecting that to just explain everything. (It does.) He always opens the blankets and pulls you in, holds you until your breathing slows, until his heart stops threatening to burst through his chest.

He thinks you might be dating. Maybe. Possibly.

But you’ve never said anything.

And he doesn’t just want to assume.

What if this is just… how you are? Sweet. Clingy. Affectionate with everyone. What if you’re just playing house and he’s the idiot who fell in love with the fantasy?

God, he’s so embarrassing.

And then, you go and do something stupid. Like kiss his cheek when you get up. Like pout and say “Toru, come cuddle me,” attempting to guide him back to your room. Ignoring him when he tells you to stop being cute.

He doesn't follow. He just wants to ask.

To clarify.

Yet, anytime the words start to form his mouth goes dry. He stares at you. You glance over your shoulder, sipping from your cup. Waiting.

He opens his mouth.

And then closes it.

Because if he asks… if he really asks…what you are.

What would you even say?

And, can he even handle your answer?

------

Next Part: Wait, we're dating?

#Slight angst #Mostly fluff #Roommates #I think Satoru wouldn't know what to do with himself with a clingy roommate #Gojo satoru #Jjk #Jujutsu kaisen #Gojo x reader #Gojo satoru x reader #Satoru x reader #Satoru gojo x reader

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crushmeeren · 3 months ago

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Camp counselor! Katsuki is a senior counselor who’d come to camp every year until he turned fourteen. A junior counselor at seventeen. Now he’s twenty three, a senior counselor for years, and he doesn’t plan on quitting anytime soon.

Camp counselor! Katsuki takes you under his wing. You’d been a senior counselor at a different camp the previous summer, so you had a lukewarm grip on how things work, but he showed you the lay of the land, so to speak. Introduced you to the kids that return to All Might’s Mighty Warriors each year, to the friends / other counselors he’d grown up with — a.k.a. Eijirou, Izuku, Denki, even Shouto.

Camp counselor! Katsuki is stunning from the moment you meet him. Blonde hair shining in the hot summer sun, glowing like an angel. Skin sun kissed and smooth, only pale beneath the straps of his tank top, tan lines obvious and dizzying if he shifts the right way. You wonder how far below his shorts those tan lines go.

Camp counselor! Katsuki is firm, a tough love kind of man. He also lifts the kids spirits, encouraging them and giving constructive feedback when they need his help. They hang on every word, hero worship like you wouldn’t believe. He loves them too, though. He does the same for you, and it’s easy to understand with every fiber of your being why they look at Katsuki with stars in their eyes.

Camp counselor! Katsuki participates in every. single. activity. He’s competitive as all hell, and as much as the kids complain he’s doing too much, they secretly love it. Katsuki swims with them, he plays sand volleyball, basketball, tag — even arts and crafts. There’s nothing he won’t do.

Camp counselor! Katsuki is serious about sunscreen and skin protection. He gathers the kids every two hours to reapply. When you ask Katsuki to get your back he smirks. “Atta girl,” he praises, motioning for you to spin. “Can’t have a pretty thing like you burnin’ up, can we?” When his fingers untie the swimsuit knot at the nape of your neck blood rushes to your cheeks. Katsuki doesn’t miss a spot. He lathers it across your back, your shoulders, the nape of your neck. You return the favor and almost pass out.

Camp counselor! Katsuki loves s’mores. After all the kids have gone to bed, he sits at your side by the fire, thigh to thigh. Stories of his past camp experiences mingle with the crackle of fire and the song of cicadas. He assembles enough s’mores for a lifetime. The other counselors join, reminiscing with stories of their own. At some point your temple ends up on Katsuki’s shoulder, fingers intertwined. You go to bed with smoke scented hair and the memory of sweet, sticky lips pressed to yours.

Camp counselor! Katsuki writes his number on your palm before on the last day. He keeps in touch throughout the year, and by the time next summer rolls around, you wear the title of his girlfriend in your heart and senior counselor on your name tag.

master list

thank you @grenadehearts who helped me pick which character to write camp counselor headcannons for c:

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on-the-clear-blue · 4 months ago

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Danny, staring up at Tim, who currently Robin: okay...so this isn't what it looks like.

Tim, giving dead pan glare: so you arnt breaking into Drake Manor?

Danny, shoulders dropping: okay yeah it's totally what it looks like...but not because you think!

Tim, sighing slightly: so you arnt homeless and thought that since Timothy Drake was recently adopted by Bruce Wanye, and both of his parents are dead you can just move in and live here?

Danny, blinking owlishly: I mean, yeah? I mean, not homeless, and I didn't even know that dude got adopted, like good for him, hope that he is safe and shiz, sucks that he parents died and all but not here to squat dude.

Tim, raising a single eyebrow: then why pray tell are you here?

Danny, kicking at the ground a bit: so like...ugh, so I might be um like...a...fudge what's the word...ah! Psychopomp? Like I am a dude that helps like people's ghosts pass and like keeps em happy.

Tim, squinting behind his mask: the only person that died here is Jack Drake and I assure you, his soul would not be happy going to where he deserves to be.

Danny, holding up his hands: wow lot of misplaced aggression there boy wonder...no I ain't here for him, like him and his wife did like...so much tomb raiding they would make the Victorians jelly. I am here cus they stole some dudes shit and he wants it back...like yesterday.

Tim, tilting his head: so you are here to steal an artifact.

Danny, popping the P sound: Yup, something about some guys clay tablet, he liked keeping his hate mail for some reason, said this one was about how he shorted some dudes iron? Or was it copper... my Mesopotamian isn't the best.

Tim, eyes widening, because he knows *exactly* which tablet he is talking about: Oh...yeah no bro, you seem chill but I really can't let you have that so why don't you just like...walk away and I won't be forced to do something kay?

Danny, frowning: Sames dude, up until that .y guy cus like...I *really* wasn't asking...

Tim, sighing as he extends his bo staff: Try and just like, not hold a grude yeah? Don't need a new villain...

Danny, pulling out an ecto gun and turning it on: I don't know man...I feel like we have good banter.

(They fight, Tim is still training so he is a bit sloppy, and Danny isn't shooting to kill, so it's more of them playing cat and mouse throughout Drake Manor, it ends with Danny stealing the tablet but having to leave the ecto gun, which gets broken when he escapes)

Tim, panting as he watches Danny flee: Fuck...is this what B feels after fighting Catwoman?

---

Bruce, rubbing his temples as Tim explains why he was late for training: You tried to apprehend an unknown, with a weapon of an unknown source and power...in the home of your secret identity?

Tim, looking properly chastised: God...yes that happened...he wasn't that bad honestly...was pretty witty.

Bruce developing a twitch in his eye: No.

Tim: No? No what.

Bruce, glaring hard at his adopted son: No falling in love with a villain.

Tim, looking scandalized now: Oh? What is this? Hypocrisy thy name is Bruce Wayne!

Bruce's glare turns into a batglare: Ten laps around the cave and fifty bo staff katas...no villains!

---

Danny becomes Tim's rogue, but not really, most of their battles are more each other showing off their new gear/moves they learned.

Danny also is only using tech that his parents made and he upgraded since he really doesn't want to go ghost in front of *Robin*, who is totally not his crush, and the only reason why he won't is because batman would 100% be on his ass.

Danny, pulling a massive creep stick with a nail driven through it out of seemingly nowhere: The new and approved Creep Stick! This time with nail to add tetnus damage!

Tim, watching as 'The Inventor' escapes once more: I hate seeing him leave but by God do I love watching him go...Damn should have turned on the camera just so I can see it again.

Barbara chiming in: Keep the main line PG Robin.

Batman, through coms: Hn...we shall be having words when we get back to the cave

Tim, sipping a soup that The Occultist made: "So like...why were you even here?

---

When the Titans tower incident occurs, Tim could only watch in awe as the Inventor, not only comes in from the ceiling with a literal metal chair, and then continues to beat up the guy with a bad Robin cosplay.

Danny, panting as he holds up the chair again: Back I say! Back! My blorbo!

Jason, seething as he actually hisses at this random teen that appeared out of nowhere, scurrying away while cradling his broken arm: You shall rue the day! Jason Todd was here bitches!

Tim, staring up at Danny, face a bloody mess and an adoring look in his eyes: omg he stalks me, this is must what the other guys felt when I did it!

They don't really start dating, it's much more Danny breaking into Tim's house and just not leaving.

Tim, watching as his "arch enemy" is sprawled across his couch, bucket of ice cream in one hand, spoon in another, phone balanced between his ear and shoulder, pants and socks tossed haphazardly across the living room and just chilling in his boxers: Now wait a damn minute.

Danny, pausing while looking up from his ice cream (which is actually Tim's, since the boy is rich and buys the good shit), pointing his spoon accusatorily at Tim: Your fucking late Mister! Drag race started half an hour ago and we agreed to watch it together!

Tim, blushing under the Robin mask: Sorry case got good and- wait wait wait, when did we agree to watch drag race together?

Danny, rolling his eyes: when I made breakfast this morning? I even gave you extra strong coffee for your solem swearing that you would be here.

Tim, thinking back to earlier: I just...remember a bright white orb giving me a mug and a plate of food...

Danny, scoffing: this is why I need to drug you to get to sleep more often. Now take off your gear and get over here, they about to choose who shall sashay away!

Tim, nodding slowly: Hope it is that one queen from last episode, that lio sink didn't have any- wait! Ugh you keep distracting me! When did you fucking move in? I don't even know your name!

Danny with a spoon just an inch away from his mouth: Jazz? Yeah I uhh...I gotta call you back...(clicks hang up on his phone) Your joking right? For the shits and gigs?

Tim, shaking his head slowly: No shits, not a single gig my dude, 100% honest.

Danny, who had just arrived this morning since his parents are renovating because Fenton HQ is a glaring OSHA violation, but also who's middle names are "commit to the bit" and "Gaslight GateKeep Girl boss" : Babe we have been dating for like, *months*...d-do ou really not remember?

Tim, existential crisis made manifest: Oh no...I have been mind wiped.

Danny, astounded that worked: Baby I am so sorry...

They "date" for like a week before Danny starts feeling bad that he tricked Tim (who he finally got to see maskless, he had to stop his heart to not show any outward reaction to that, cus like hell he is cute) and wants to come clean but he honestly never had seen Tim more happy nor more healthy.

Danny, sitting across Bruce at the Manor: S-So um...like yeah we um...met at a science convention? My um...my parents were show casing stuff and like...we met there?

Bruce, eyes narrowing because that sounded like a lie: Hn.

Dick, happy that Tim finally felt comfortable to bring his "boyfriend" to dinner: B stop glaring! Your going to scare off Timmy's Bf! God you weren't this bad when I brought over Roy that one time.

Bruce doesn't stop glaring, and it's making Danny even more nervous: Um I uh...need to use the bathroom one sec...

Tim moves to guide him but Alfred waves him to sit down: You really must eat Master Timothy, I did make your favorite today. I shall guide Mister Fenton to the lavatory.

Alfred does indeed lead Danny from the dining room, but the second they are far enough the old butler suddenly has a shotgun in hand, skin suddenly a pale blue and objects around the parlor turning green and floating: While they do try and see the best in others, I do not Phantom, now I must ask you to kindly leave and never contact Master Timothy every again. I shall not let my charge fall for such as the likes of you.

Danny blinking at how he was addressed, a sudden ghostly blue mist escaping his mouth: Oh shit.

They have a ghost fight, all while comically popping in and out of the dining room, making excuses for whyvthe other is gone.

It ends when Tim, finally fed up with why his boyfriend is taking so long opens the door only to see him duking it out with Alfred, fully gone ghost and was loosing.

Such leads to confessions of lies, real feeling and why Alfred has been able to be a spry 60 even though he fought in WWI and it is very much the mid 2010s.

(Danny and Tim do end up together, this time with no lies about a mind wipe, and get Kon and Bart to join their polycule later on)

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thatmidnightkid · 1 year ago

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i get it if i read before bed and it’s something i’m enjoying and not working me up majorly either positively or negatively. it’s actually my primary method of avoiding anxiety attacks before bed.

this also happens when im writing sometimes, but ill be reading and after a while, it gets to the point where my eyelids are drooping and i can hardly keep them open and im wondering if it's just a me thing, a chronic illness thing, or a generally common thing. tia!!

#fluff mostly #ao3 my beloved

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rafey-baby · 8 months ago

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clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head.

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists.

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with.

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms.

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him.

“You, uh, you got one?”

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion.

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives.

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class.

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff.

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words.

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes.

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can.

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.

Her head is spinning.

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

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neigepomme · 4 months ago

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˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ bulking szn / caleb x reader

synopsis; who knew your lovely and insanely strong boyfriend could get even more muscular — even more sexy. gotta thank bulking season for that!

⋆ 800 words / suggestive (NSFW) / fem reader / 2nd person

caleb's hot. he's been hot.

you know that, and everyone around you knows that — it's almost become a running joke how he gets stares from everyone when he's out and about.

what you didn't know is that he could get even more attractive. who could blame you, though? he looks like he inspired michelangelo's david — and he can get hotter? now that's just plain greedy. except it's happening, and all you can do is stare at him more than usual.

and here was your greek god of a boyfriend standing in the kitchen, preparing his protein shake. sitting at the kitchen island with your chin resting on your hand, you were staring at him, ogling him. his arms looked so good. how would they feel around your neck, you wondered — but your daydreams had to be cut short by the sound of a refrigerator door closing loudly.

"you know baby, a picture might last you longer. i can feel your eyes on me, and i'm not even facing you."

"mmh, i'm just not used to this whole," you make vague gestures in the air, "bulking thing. gotta stare and memorize it."

he laughs, and you keep on openly admiring him. when he mentioned that he'd be bulking soon, you just nodded, not entirely sure what that implied. the caleb you knew from your childhood and teenage years was strong, yes, but mostly athletic. this meatier, buffer version was new, but so, so, so welcome.

right now, his muscles weren't as defined as you were used to. he looked more.. soft. still as strong, but he seemed bigger — he could already dwarf you before, but now, it was way more serious. not only that, he's traded his looser shirtless tank tops for compression shirts, and it was such a delight for your eyes. his pecs looked bigger, and his back — his back. just a little more broad. just a hint more sexy. was it even legal to look that good?

but man, whenever you hugged him? it was like heaven held you in its embrace. the cherry on top of your very attractive (beef)cake. he was so much warmer too — caleb always ran hot. he's your personal heater during the winter months, but now? he was burning hot. or maybe is it just how you see him? who knows, honestly.

funniest thing about this situation, though? caleb knew you'd react like that upon seeing him get more buff, but he didn't know you'd be that affected by bulking season. he knew how much you enjoyed his physique, and bulking up in order to cut and get stronger and bigger than you, just seemed like a nice challenge. a good way to keep himself busy and please you.

there was one more thing though, way more challenging than keeping tracks of his macros in his new diet. you made it insanely difficult to keep his hands to himself. first, it was the staring. he was well aware that you couldn't really help yourself, he was there looking all handsome just for you. the half-lidded stares when he worked out, lingering glances at his arms and chest, bedroom eyes when he wore that compression shirt one size too small, were to be expected. the way you basically undressed him with your gaze occasionally made him flushed, but caleb couldn't even comment on it — he did the same to you practically daily.

and then came the physical touch.

caleb wasn't shy. he knew he looked attractive, and he knew that you found him attractive. he also knew you were touchy, but your touchiness increased tenfold when he started bulking, always poking and prodding at his body. a perpetually careful hand making goosebumps appear on his skin as you softly traced the lines of the veins on his arms. did you know what you were doing? or were you unconsciously exercising your right to touch his body as if it were yours to own. oh well, it basically was — he was your possession as much as you were his.

god, you made it so hard to hold back, though. caleb just wanted to manhandle you and show you that he wasn't just getting softer — his strength remained. he could still bend you whatever which way he pleased (and he knew you'd enjoy it), but he held back. he held back because after years of yearning, years of practiced patience, he knew the reward was worth it.

so caleb just kept on tolerating it. after all, bulking season wasn't over just yet — he could handle your hands roaming around a little more. three more weeks until he could show you his full potential.

you'd get your lovely buff caleb showing off his muscles for you, and in return, he'd get his even lovelier girlfriend underneath him and return all the physical touches he's been subjected to while bulking — he'll have you oh so pliant and responsive to his roughhousing in bed.

fair trade!

🍎 pomme's final notes — don't look at me too hard this is so self indulgent i just really like strong guys and i've been rewatching caleb content and his back is just. irresistible i'm gonna chew on him like those buff bear breads

#⋆ pomme writes #caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lads x reader #lads caleb #lads #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #⋆ pomme after hours #⋆ neigepomme #im crying i feel like a liar #i was like “omgg sorry i mostly write fluff :((”#and here comes the caleb demons.#um i do have some really cute fluffy stuff planned tho i swear!!

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xitty · 2 years ago

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Speaking of writing... Here are the little fics I wrote for this year's Wataei Week: [LINK]

#fluff mostly #enstars #wataei

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humanjarvis · 4 months ago

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everybody (including me) thinks caleb cries and throws up when he sees you naked for the first time, but what if he doesn’t?

what if it’s closer to the feeling of all being right in the world? validation, vindication, satisfaction, assurance. you were meant to bare yourself to him, he was meant to see you. it’s just the natural order of things.

it’s proprietary, almost, the way he looks at you. like the moment is expected. like he’s the only one who should.

it’s not that he’s dismissive or entitled toward your body—he’s still reverent and appreciative, subtle awe coursing through his veins.

but it’s not awe that you’re his. he knows you’re his. it’s awe that you’re you. that anyone on this godforsaken planet could look like you, act like you, be like you. be as perfect as you are. be as perfect for him as you are.

so when caleb saunters up to you, placing a hand on your bare waist like it belongs there—that’s exactly what he’s thinking. because it does.

#it’s random writing exercise thursday #i’m mostly just playing devil’s advocate here #he might totally faint the first time. but it’s good to have options #iris talks #caleb x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #lads #lads x reader #lads caleb #lnds #lads smut #lads fluff #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace smut #caleb fluff #caleb smut

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violetcamryn · 21 days ago

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HTTYD HEADCANNONS

character: Snotlout Jorgenson (live action version) x gender neutral!reader

warnings: fluff and smut related headcannons 😏

AN: first time writing anything smut related, pls be kind 💗 reblogs are much appreciated

- Snotlout is a major yearner. Even though he gives off a total cocky attitude, he’s secretly a hopeless romantic. You’ve even heard rumours from the twins that they saw him drawing pictures of you in his notebook late at night…

- He actually smells really good (like surprisingly good). He smells like musky cedarwood and campfire smoke, with a hint of salty ocean air

- He loves to braid your hair. This seems kind of obvious, given viking culture with braids, but he personally loves to do it as a pastime or when he’s feeling anxious about something & needs a distraction. He’s actually really good at it too (thanks to Astrid and Ruffnut teaching him over the years).

- He sneezes like a maniac. You know those “dad sneezes” where it sounds like a b0mb just went off? Yeah, those. He knows how much it startles you but he just can’t help it (you’ll usually see him with an apologetic smile on his face after letting one go while you’re around).

- He loves to spoil you. Random gifts will appear in your room, like hand carved wooden figures, or a bouquet of forest greens all tied up with a leather cord. He makes sure to pick the greenery that is aromatic & will make your room smell good.

*🔞 below*

- He’s totally a switch in bed. He likes to be dominant most times (partially because he thinks it makes him “a man”), but it would be a lie to say that he doesn’t like to be the bottom. He’ll spend half the time just looking up at you with those tired puppy-dog eyes and it’s like you’re in heaven.

- He’s very vocal in bed once he gets comfortable. Like I’m talking deep breathing, borderline whiny noises in bed. It takes a few times for him to get comfortable enough being very vocal, but now that he’s used to it he does NOT hold back.

- As often as he can, he loves to bring you to his little secret hideout on the island so you can spend some alone time together (😏). It’s honestly the only place on the island that is guaranteed nobody will walk in on you two while you’re getting it on (that’s happened one too many times in the village).

- He is the master of aftercare. He’ll run you a hot shower, and then hop in with you and massage your back and shoulders while you wash off. He knows how much you love it, but he loves it too, because he cherishes any chance he gets to just look at you and appreciate how attractive you are.

- His favourite body part of yours (other than your face) is your thighs. Any chance he gets to rest his head in your lap, he will take it. He doesn’t ever do this around the others, because he’s too afraid of seeming “weak” (although I think the yearning is what makes a man A MAN), but when you two are alone it is quite literally one of his favourite places to be.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hope you enjoyed reading! I’m just starting to write again so obviously this isn’t my best work but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 💗

PS. live action Snotlout is just…yum. Need to see more writing for him soon because there is simply not enough out there yet.

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alchemistc · 2 months ago

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ivory limbed and brown-eyed

Buck wakes with the sun streaking across his face and a finger tracing the lines around his eyes, feather light touch and a shadow across his brow like Tommy's tilted his head just to make sure he doesn't take a direct hit from the early morning rays.

"Time'sit?" He mumbles, and rolls into the warmth of Tommy's body heat. It's been raining for like three days straight, torrential downpours and extra long shifts, and they'd fallen asleep with water still pounding on the roof, too tired for more than a lazy sloppy kiss before they both passed out. He has no idea when it stopped. No idea when the clouds broke.

"Early," Tommy says, and Buck hums into his neck, considers sucking a bruise behind his ear. They don't have a shift for four days. Tommy would probably let him.

He's been indulgent, in the months since they cracked open their ribcages and had a conversation.

And then another conversation.

And then ten or twenty more.

"Where's my breakfast?" he asks, just to be a brat, because this is maybe the first time since they were fucking morning noon and night that he's woken up to Tommy still in bed with him. This is new, though. The sweep of work-roughened fingers, fat and long, shifting through his hair, catching in the barrel of a knotted curl. The stretch of a hefty leg, curled over his good knee. The ticklish twitch he's trying so hard to hide as Buck mouths at his collarbone.

He loves this man.

Tommy swats at his ass in retaliation. "I ordered bagels like forty minutes ago but someone just picked them up."

Buck pouts into the stretch of skin between his shoulder and neck. Shifts a shoulder to allow for the sweep of Tommy's hand as it starts to meander up and down his back. "Breakfast's always better when you make it."

"Too late to cancel now," he murmurs, like he wants to keep this quiet little bubble a little bit longer.

Last night had been rough, he knows. Two DOA's in a single night, nothing he could do about it, both of them long gone before he could risk life and limb flying through the rain. One of them was a kid.

Some days leaving it at the door is harder than others.

He'd been expecting the usual, when Tommy was working through something. Up at dawn to get a run in, back before the birds started looking for their worms to rifle through the fridge for breakfast. Buck had cried for a solid twenty minutes the first time Tommy confessed he'd started making breakfast for his mom the mornings after blowout fights with his dad. That breakfast was a love note he hadn't been able to write for a long time. He'd been thirteen.

So Buck never complains when the bed is cold on Tommy's side. Not now that he has his own side of the bed.

But Tommy's here, this morning, blinking at him in the soft yellow light shifting through the plantation blinds they forgot to close last night. Tommy's here, pressing the pads of two fingers to the sweep of the cheekbone below his birthmark. Tommy's here drinking in the sight of Buck like it's healing some deep hurt inside him he thought would never scab over.

Buck feels a little overwhelmed by it.

They're still navigating when they need to talk about things. When the words aren't actually necessary. They'd done a debrief, of sorts, last night. He can still taste the salt of the tears that had slid over Tommy's cheekbones as they whispered in the dark, and Buck had kissed them away. "You think we can get our driver to toss the bagels through the window? Maybe we just tell them where the spare key is and they can throw it at the bed."

The snort that shakes Tommy's chest makes Buck feel like he's won a marathon. Tommy tips his chin, glances over his shoulder, shifts his weight to grab his phone off the nightstand - ruffles Buck's hair at the plaintive whine Buck let's loose at losing chest to chest contact. "I doubt Melinda would be comfortable with that, but I left her a fat tip and begged her not to ring the doorbell when she left it at the door."

Because of course he'd want Buck to have as much sleep as he could get. Because he thinks about that kind of thing on such a regular basis it sometimes takes Buck's breath away.

Buck pulls him back before he can get more than a glance at his phone. Tugs Tommy to his chest, works his fingers into his thick mane and tucks his chin long enough to press his lips to the crown of Tommy's head. Tommy's sigh is deep, reverberating, hot breath shifting through the hair Buck decided to let grow back for no particular reason at all that definitely didn't have to do with Tommy admiring Henry Cavill's insane pecs in whatever the last movie they'd watched with him in it was. "I'll make you breakfast tomorrow." Tommy sighs when Buck digs into his scalp. Groans at the pressure when Buck curls his fingers in.

"Let's see how good these bagels are. Maybe they'll be so good Melinda will put you out of a job."

He's fully expecting the fingers that dig into his ribs, but he still squirms from them when Tommy grumbles and nips at his shoulder.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #i've been writing too much strife lately i needed some (mostly) fluff

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artistmarchalius · 1 year ago

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I wanted to try drawing them with tails to see what the hype was about. I get it now.

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snail-day · 1 month ago

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Satoru thinks you might actually enjoy tormenting him at the worst of times.

Of course, not like, physically. Just with your brattiness that always seems to blossom the second Suguru steps out of the house. Like his presence alone is the only thing keeping you from touching base with that inner gremlin, and now that he’s gone? Now that it’s just the two of you?

You're insufferable.

Because you're in the bedroom - his bedroom, Suguru's bedroom, your shared bedroom, whatever it is - and you're throwing a tantrum. While he’s brushing his teeth.

“You don’t even love me,” you announce with a dramatic huff, flopping onto your back, doing a little leg kick. “You think I’m ugly. You only wanna be with Suguru. You only want me - ”

His brain breaks. Briefly. He’s standing in the doorway, blue toothbrush hanging from his mouth, staring at you as some foam drips down his chin.

It’s not the words themselves - he knows they’re not true. Knows you like to stir the pot and that you like the attention. But there’s this tiny, razor-edged part of him that whispers, what if you’re saying it because you actually mean it a little bit?

And he hates that part. Wants to knock its teeth out with his toothbrush.

Because he does love you. Horribly. Desperately. In ways that make him stare at the ceiling at 2 a.m. and wonder if he’s hallucinating this whole relationship. If he touches you wrong - if he holds on too tight - you’ll remember you could do so much better than them.

But you’re sprawled across his bed with your lower lip pushed out and your voice all wobbly and teasing, and now he’s walking. He doesn’t even decide to walk. His body just moves, like his soul’s been yanked forward on a leash.

He presses you into the mattress with one hand, climbs over you without ceremony, toothpaste still threatening to drip down his chin.

You blink up at him with that stupid, perfect face. Lips parted. Eyes wide. Waiting.

So he does what any emotionally stunted man would do: he squishes your cheeks together and mumbles, “You serious right now?” around a mouthful of mint.

You make a noise. Possibly a protest. More likely a suppressed giggle.

Doesn’t matter. He’s already hiking your legs up over his arm and swatting your ass a few times, because clearly you’re asking for it. The little wiggle you do after confirms it.

God, you’re so annoying. He’s obsessed with you.

And then - because he’s disgusting, and this is love - he spits his toothpaste into your mouth.

You screech, attempting to launch yourself away from him, spitting the remainder of the toothpaste onto the bed, whining and crying about how gross he is while he's full-on laughing - legitimately, head thrown back and utterly unrepentant.

He snorts. “That’s what you get,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Start shit, get spit.”

You’re hitting him with a pillow now. He takes it. Deserves it.

But he also sees the way your eyes shine a little at the corners. The way you’re laughing, even as you call him a freak.

He sobers slightly, tilting his head while you glare up at him.

“You really think I don’t love you?” he asks quietly. “That I want Suguru more than you?”

You hesitate. That kills him a little.

“Don’t play like that, baby,” he says, softer now. “Not when I’m already hanging on by a thread.”

You stare up at him like you didn’t expect that answer. Like maybe you thought this was a game. Like maybe you're realizing how serious it is for him.

And he realizes, maybe you needed to hear it.

So he rolls over, pulls you into his chest, still a little minty and damp, and mumbles: “Now brush your teeth before I tell Suguru what you said.”

But he kisses your temple right after. Murmurs an I love you. And while you get up to get ready for bed, he's putting a note in his phone to buy you flowers tomorrow.

#tw: spit #flufffyyyy #slight satosugu mention #mostly satoru #i know some of you on here are a little freaky and would swallow it but pls don't swallow toothpaste #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff

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achlysyuu · 3 months ago

Text

Accidentally bit his lip while kissing... (Separate)

ft. Ran Haitani, Izana Kurokawa, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Manjiro Sano

You and he have been together for a while now, and the relationship has warmed up as the days together have lengthened, and it's getting to the point where it's time to do something more intimate.

On this day, the sun is warm, the weather is fine, you are home together by the river, when your eyes retract from the distant water to each other's eyes, as if compelled by the wind of the summer evening, you and he eyes intertwined, gradually, closer and closer, until the breath disappeared between each other's lips.

It's not the first time you've been in close contact, but your heart still thumps so hard that your grip on his shoulders unconsciously tightens, and when you smell that fresh scent of his body that's been ironed out just right by the summer breeze, you suddenly feel so happy, as if all the things you've wanted to get in this life are in your fingers at the moment.

Passion steams between the touching lips, and while being wrapped around his waist, your heart swirls and your consciousness drifts for a moment, only to realise when you come back to your senses that you have accidentally bitten him out of sheer excitement.

Ran Haitani

"So enthusiastic.." Ran Haitani hisses softly, fingers wiping the redness of your bitten. The corner of his swollen lip, his eyes lifted and swept towards you.

"Ran, I'm not ..." Seeing the corner of his swollen lips, you were embarrassed at heart. The atmosphere was just right, charming and dreamy, but it was ruined by your clumsiness.

Trying to apologise the words were blocked by his fingertips, Ran shook his head gently and took you by the back to bring you into his arms, his upturned seductive eyes tailed with a compelling smile, "Don't worry, I know how much you like me now."

With his soft words, his lips landed on yours once more, taking yours in.

Izana Kurokawa

"Ah …" Izana releases your waist, and he frowns lightly as he wipes his fingers across the corner of his lips, feeling a smear of blood. At the sight of the bright red at his fingertips, he lifts his eyes and glances over to you, the bottom of his eyes obscure and indistinguishable from anger.

"Do you want .. to bite me to death?" The tip of the man's tongue explored a little, slowly licked off the corner of the lips where you bite out of the blood, the tone of the diffuse and indistinct asked.

"No no, I didn't mean to, it was just … accidental ..." Fingers twisted together, you want to touch his lips to see if the bite is serious, but the man's obscure eyes scared you a little again.

Sometimes Izana is so scary when he gets angry, even though he won't do anything to you, just feeling the vibe around him makes your heart clench and you can't breathe.

"Come here, fool," he wipes the blood from the corners of his lips and calls you over, "I'll teach you, how to kiss."

Then, you were obediently pinched by his chin and carefully taught how to kiss for a long time, and the corners of your lips were numb.

Sanzu Haruchiyo

A muffled grunt came from Haruchiyo between the touching lips and teeth, the man is very capable of enduring pain, it seems that you accidentally bit too hard.

He didn't let go of you, his eyes under his thick lashes glaring at you intently. He finally spoke up as you were tingling and overwhelmed by his look.

"No hiding, I’m going to bite back.." With his hands clasped around your waist, the man clamps down on you, his teeth grinding against your soft lips, he manages to bite you so hard that you cry out in pain.

"Hhg.. it hurts .." Pushing against his chest, you tried to push him away, and what kind of person counts this as revenge back.

He finally lets go of you and looks into your watery eyes, somewhat chagrined, "..Does it hurt that much?"

"It hurts like hell, Haru's a big dummy."

Mikey/Manjiro Sano

"That hurts.." Mikey covers his lip and looks at you pitifully. The teenager's adorable brow is furrowed, as if he's been bitten really badly by you.

"..Does it really hurt?" You anxiously crouch down to see him, your heart filled with guilt, "I didn't mean to, let me see .."

The hand that was trying to peel away from his grip was held and Mikey looked at you, his big eyes staring at your lips, his eyes bright, "Well, it hurts, you need to kiss it to stop the pain .."

Eh, can kissing stop the pain?

Doubt fills your mind, but it's quickly interrupted by Mikey's voice, "..It hurts, I wonder if I'll be able to eat tonight?"

"Fine, I'll kiss." You held back your shyness and kissed the corner of his lips, as he requested. The place you just bit is indeed red and swollen, so it probably really hurts.

"Here too." Mikey pointed to his chin, then to his neck.

"..But there’s no bites there?" You frowned lightly, you'd just given him as many kisses on the cheeks, forehead, and lips as he'd requested, why are you still not satisfied.

"I want it."

So, that evening by the river, you sat beside the teenager and were tricked into so many kisses by him.

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