#hear them laugh and talk .... something is off

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

girl i love your shut up mom and career day fic so much!!!!!! i was wondering if you can do something similar to bothh? no pressure if you dont wanna!

Baby's first words

Tags: fluff, crack, jjk men as dads x fem!reader, angst on Nanami's!!!

Synopsis: You and your husband have been trying to get your child to say their first words. Chaos ensues.

An: I hope this is close enough to what you were requesting!! I really couldn't think of much more. Also, I want to point out that I completely forgot that Todo's first name is Aoi. I want to clarify that it is completely unrelated to your baby's name with Satoru lol.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

"Alright Aoi, say da-da, and I'll give you this yummy scoop of baby food." Your husband coaxes as he holds out a spoonful of baby food just out of your small baby's reach.

"Stop bribing our kid to say dada." You giggle as you walk up to your adorable baby sat in his high chair. You fluffed Satoru's hair affectionately with your hand. These were the moments that made life worth living.

"Hmph. I want dada to be his first word. Wouldn't that be so cool?" He asks with a small pout as he coaxes your baby's attention again with the spoon. "C'mon Aoi, da-da." He sounds out the word phonetically to try to teach Aoi.

However, your pretty blue-eyed baby looked up at you with the brightest smile. "Mama!" Aoi cried as he made grabby hands for you.

Yours and Satoru's mouths completely dropped. While you immediately started laughing and picking up Aoi out of the highchair to snuggle your baby, your husband just looked at you with a bittersweet pout. He wanted to be y'all's baby's first words, but it was worth it to see your reaction to Aoi saying mama.

"That's right, baby. Mama." You encourage, smooching him on his chubby little cheek.

"Alright, I get it kid. I'd say mama to get a kiss too." Satoru laughs as he holds out his cheek towards you with a playful grin.

Jokingly rolling your eyes, you press a kiss to Satoru's cheek too.

SUGURU

"Alright girls, can you say da-da?" You said to the two young twin girls in their highchairs. You pointed to Geto as he stood next to you.

"They're too young to be talking, darling." He muses as he looks at your twin girls.

"But they're not too young to learn. Don't act like you don't want to hear them say dada." You poke Geto in his side, causing for him to let out a hearty chuckle.

"I want to keep them as young for as long as possible. Watching them grow up is going to send me into an early retirement." He says as he lovingly rubs on your back.

A doorbell sounding throughout the house caused your husband to sigh deeply. He hated being pulled away from these moments with you and the girls.

"Were you expecting someone?" You curiously ask.

"No, it's probably just one of those filthy monkeys again." He gripes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Dada!" Mimiko shouts with a giggle, garnering both your attentions.

"You really have to stop saying that in front of the girls." You chide as Geto picks up Mimiko from her highchair.

"My sweet girl." He grins at the baby in his hands and blows a raspberry on her cheek.

The doorbell rings again, and you sigh this time. "I guess I'll go get it." You say as you start to walk away.

"M-m... ma..ma.." Nanako quietly whimpered as your presence left the room.

"Oh, it's okay, little one. She'll be back." Geto soothes as he picks his other daughter up with his other arm. What's the purpose of having two arms if you couldn't snuggle both your twin daughters at the same time?

After scaring off a salesman, you return to the heartwarming sight.

"You missed it, darling. Nanako said mama." Geto informs you with a proud smile.

"I always miss the good parts!" You complain as you scoop Nanako up out of Geto's arms. "I hope they stay this little forever."

"Me too."

TOJI

"Okay Gumi, can you say ma-ma?" You say as you're staring with a bright smile at your flat expression baby. He honestly looks like he might be judging you for even insinuating that he'd say mama.

"Okay, tough crowd." You muse as you hand Megumi one of his toys for him to play with.

You have been trying to teach him how to say mama for the past month or so, but he hasn't really said much of anything. He'll babble sometimes, but it's rare.

You were concerned about his mental and social development, but his pediatrician assured you that there was nothing wrong with little Megumi.

"He just doesn't want to talk yet." The doctor informed you with a lighthearted laugh.

It was semi-funny, but you couldn't help and compare with other moms. You knew it was wrong and every baby developed at their own rate, but you really just wanted to hear your baby's sweet voice.

Toji walks in through the front door immediately kicking his shoes off. "No one touch me. I'm covered in blood." He grunts as he tries his best to maneuver and not spread the blood everywhere.

Given his job, you were already use to this. "It's not yours, right?" You ask as you look up at him.

"Course not, babe. What do you take me for? An amateur?" He asks with a cocky grin.

Megumi looks up from his highchair, and his eyes immediately go as big as saucers upon seeing his dad walk in through the door. "Papa!" He immediately cries out, making grabby hands towards Toji.

You stare at your son in disbelief. "You little traitor!" You whine, but you also feel the relief pool into you. Your baby really just didn't want to talk to you, but that's fine.

"Ahh you little shit. You would do this when I can't pick you up. Your mama will kill me if I get blood on you." He grins as he carefully pats Megumi's hair with a clean hand.

"Damn right. Go shower." You instruct with a small grin.

"Yes mam." He retorts playfully as he shot you a little wink.

SUKUNA

"Okay Ryu, say ma-ma." You say to your little pink-haired baby as he's looking at you from his high chair.

"That's so amateur. He's the son of the king." Sukuna says as he pulls up a chair and sits backwards in it, facing y'all's baby. "Say dismantle." He grins wildly, and your sweet baby just giggles at him.

"You dare laugh in the face of a king, hm?" Sukuna asks as he playfully narrows his eyes. Despite how scary he was trying to seem, Ryu just kept smiling at him and giggling.

"Stop trying to get our baby to say cursed techniques." You chide your husband while shaking your head.

"Fine. Say Satoru Gojo's a bitch."

"Ryomen!"

"What!?" Sukuna shouts defensively. "I'll never forgive that white-haired bastard for teaching his kid to say 'kuna sucks'." You quietly laugh remembering that random video that was sent to you two.

In their older age, Sukuna and Satoru had settled on having a baby race. Constantly filming their baby's milestones and gloating to the other.

Sukuna had practically cheered whenever little Ryu was eating more solid foods than Gojo's kid was.

"D...d.." Ryu babbles and tries to get his syllables right.

"Woman. Get your phone machine out. He's going to cast his first domain." Sukuna says as he's immediately grabbing onto your arm.

"Sukuna, for the last time. It's just called a phone, and he's not going to cast a domain." You say as you start recording your little baby Ryu.

"Da..da... dada." Your son babbles out reaching up towards his dad.

Sukuna's face slightly drops, but it wasn't to one of sadness. No, he felt surprised. His son was reaching to him, calling for him. To most people, he was the King of Curses, but to little Ryu, he was simply dada.

Your husband scoops your son into his arms, hugging him lovingly. "I'll let you slide just this once. Next time you'll cast a domain." He says playfully while cradling his son in his arms.

Later, you would get a text from Gojo after sending him that video.

Gojo: Cute kid. Sukuna looks happy. Fucker is finally softening in his prehistoric age.

NANAMI

"Say da-da..." Your voice plays over Nanami's phone as he watches the video you just sent him of you teaching Hana how to say her first words.

"Dada!" Hana yells with a cheerful smile while clapping her little hands together.

Your husband smiles, missing you two dearly right now. It feels like his heart lives outside his chest. If he could afford it, he'd go home and snuggle with you two.

Yn: Stay safe out there, Ken. Please.

He promptly texts back, promising that he'll be back home before you know it. Though, something about the air in Shibuya tonight gave Nanami second guesses about that.

He could leave. He could leave right now and return home to you and his daughter, but his students and his peers need him.

Yn: The power's out here, Ken. Is everything alright?

Yn: Jesus I can hear the explosions from here...

Yn: Please tell me that you're safe...

Yn: Hana and I are evacuating. I love you. Please text me as soon as you can.

Yn: You fuckig promised... you liedd to me.

Yn: What do I tell Hana every time she says dada?

[starsofang]

“You’re droolin’.”

You whipped your head over to Kyle, who eyed you from the classroom beside you. You sputtered, quickly covering your mouth while he snickered.

“I am not,” you hissed in warning, risking a glance at the room in front of you and praying the man inside didn’t hear.

“Mm,” Kyle hummed, crossing his arms and watching as his students piled into his class, giving him sweet little ‘hello!’s in greeting. “Don’t know why you haven’t talked to him yet. He’s a nice guy.”

Your eyes drifted over to the classroom across from you, staring at the neighboring teacher who’d captured your heart from the moment you started working at the school.

Mr. Price stood at his desk, speaking with a chatty child and smiling kindly, nodding along as he listened. He paid no mind to you, entirely distracted. It was a wonder if he even knew you taught across from him.

It was a painfully one-sided crush. A silly, childish feeling, one you were sure he’d find strange if he found out about you, the quiet teacher that admired him from five feet across the hall.

“I don’t want to make a fool out of myself,” you sighed, shoulders deflating. One of your students waltzed into your classroom, greeting you cheerfully, so you put on a smile, welcoming them in.

“Ach, you’re just worryin’ for nothin’,” he dismissed lazily. “You’ve gotta talk to him one of these days. How else will you get him to ask you out? Or maybe you’re the one that likes takin’ the reins.”

You threw him a glare and Kyle only snickered some more, dodging the pen you threw his way.

Once your last student arrived, you sighed helplessly, tossing one last look into Mr. Price’s classroom. Your heart yearned to talk to him, but your brain begged you to stay in the shadows.

You felt silly for liking a fellow teacher you’d never formally met, but you couldn’t help it. You’d catch yourself mindlessly watching him across the hall, glimpsing into the open door and melting at the way he treated his students.

He was a large man, brutish and tough, but the way he was with his students was the complete opposite. He was attentive, always giving them his direct focus as not to make them feel unheard. His teaching style was fun, and you often heard his kids laughing boisterously with the activities he had planned for the day.

He was a wonderful teacher, and naturally, the longer you observed, the more your attraction grew.

God, you were hopeless. Hopelessly in love, that is. There’d never be a time where you’d muster up the courage to talk to him.

Forcing yourself to look away, you saluted Kyle, entering the confines of your own classroom and willing away the racing thoughts of the handsome teacher across from you.

The day dragged, and God gave you no mercy with your set of kids together. Whatever had riled up your students to be so hyper had cost you your sanity, and it felt like days until you were giving them all a loving farewell, helping them shrug on their backpacks and watching them leave for the busses so they could head on home and call it quits for the day.

As much as you wanted to join in on going home and collapsing into bed, you stayed behind to catch up on grading papers; which, really, you thought was a waste, considering your students were mere kids.

What grades did they need? They were barely at the age of comprehending ridiculous math equations, or what a mammal was.

Regardless, you set forth to work, flipping through an endless stack of papers until you felt your fingers would fall off.

It was only a couple of hours later when a grueling headache slammed against your temples, causing you to groan in the solitude of your classroom. You needed a coffee. Or a shot. Something.

You decided to go with the coffee for now, forcing yourself out of your chair. When you entered the quiet hallways, you noticed the lights off in Mr. Price’s classroom with no sign of life occupying it.

He must’ve gone home for the day. A pity, really. Another day, another failure.

Kyle was no where to be found, either. Even he wouldn’t be able to save you from your own painful misery.

Slumping in disappointment, you made your way to the break room. The coffee in the school tasted like shit, and you avoiding drinking it as much as possible, but you were desperate. Today hadn’t been very kind to you, and your kids had erupted chaos into your life.

You loved your students, but that shit coffee would be the only thing to get you through until tomorrow, where you’d do it all over again.

Upon entering, you shuffled into the break room with your goal set. However, the moment you noticed a familiar somebody sitting at the break room table, sipping on his own cup, it instantly slipped from your mind, forgotten.

“Oh,” Price breathed, looking up at you. He set his mug down, offering you a smile that had your breath catching in your throat. “Hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anybody was still here. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What were you supposed to say? You’d practiced endlessly on how to talk to him, memorizing a script in your head so you wouldn’t fuck up, but it didn’t entail this. You weren’t prepared!

“I—” You took in a sharp breath, panicking. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, oh god, you looked so stupid—

“You teach across from me, right?” he asked, leaning back in the chair. “I never got to introduce myself. You know how it is with the kids and all, they’re always bouncin’ off the walls, so it’s hard to find the time.”

He cleared his throat, taking another sip of his coffee.

He… noticed you? Sure, it was hard not to, the two of you worked a mere few feet away from each other, but you didn’t know he knew you were there.

Fuck, what do you say? Your tongue felt tied up in a knot. Think.

“It’s okay, Mr. Price,” you said instead, stumbling over your words. “I know the kids get us all caught up.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, unaware you knew his name. If only he knew the extent of it.

“Ah, well I suppose there’s no need for introduction, then,” he laughed, smiling brightly. You felt your knees buckle. “No need to call me Mister, though. You can just call me John.”

You could feel every part of your body warm up. This felt like a fever dream. You desperately needed Kyle to pinch you awake.

“John,” you breathed out, testing the name on your tongue. It was embarrassing how much you enjoyed it. “It’s, ah, nice to formally meet you.”

“Mm, you too,” John said proudly. He stood from his chair, grabbing his cup to empty it into the sink. “I’ve gotta run, it’s gettin’ late. You have a ride home?”

You nodded dumbly, silently cursing yourself for having a working car.

“Right then. See you tomorrow, aye?” He offered another one of those award-winning smiles, bidding you farewell and leaving you in the break room alone.

You didn’t move from your spot, your feet glued to the floor. Your heart pounded erratically, your mind blurring into a fog.

God, you felt like the school girl with a crush, not the teacher. You didn’t realize how deep your crush ran for the man, but now that you’d gotten a glimpse into conversing with him, it festered into you like an aggravating tick.

When two cups of coffee later didn’t help with the burrowing feelings, you decided to give up on grading papers, heading home to try and scrub your mind until tomorrow.

You were more anxious than ever today. You couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting on your feet while your hands wrung nervously behind your back. Kyle eyed you suspiciously from his classroom door beside you, saying nothing as his kids piled into the room.

Your mind was plagued with thoughts of yesterday, replaying over and over the kindness John had given you. You thought that maybe you were overthinking it.

He was simply being generous. After all, Kyle said he was a nice guy, and surely he wouldn’t have just ignored you when you came into the break room. That would’ve been rude, right?

“Good mornin’,” Price greeted you softly, blinding you with his smile that was nearly buried under his facial hair. “Hope you didn’t stay too late last night. Don’t drink too much coffee today, aye?”

You stared bug eyed as he stepped into the comfort of his classroom, greeting his kids enthusiastically while you stood in your doorway like a complete idiot.

“…What the hell was that?” Kyle whispered aggressively, eyes narrowing in on you. He leaned closer to keep as quiet as possible, but you shushed him anyway, begging him to keep his voice down. “You talked to him?”

“Only briefly!” you defended, resolve crumbling. “We ran into each other in the break room last night and he introduced himself. He was being nice.”

“I’m wounded,” Kyle gasped, feigning hurt. He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “You finally talk to the man you have the hots for and you don’t even tell me, your friend.”

You groaned, sinking against your door, sulking. “It was a polite conversation, barely one of substance.”

Kyle tsked, shaking his head. One of his students skipped up to the door, greeting a ‘good morning, Mr. Garrick!’. “You’re hopeless,” he sighed, giving you a lazy wave before entering his classroom.

Frowning to yourself, you watched as your final students filed inside, giving you happy smiles. Oh, to be a kid again. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be so worked up over your coworker. You really did have to hots for him.

You stepped inside your classroom, turning to kick out the door stopper and seal it tight. As you did so, you couldn’t help yourself and you glanced over at Mr. Price’s classroom.

You nearly melted into the ground when you caught his eye, and he gave you a gentle wave, smiling kindly.

Quickly ushering the door shut, you hurried to your desk to hide your embarrassment. As your kids chattered amongst themselves, you took a few moments to mull over your pounding over, begging it to slow.

You didn’t know whether or not you wanted him to go back to not knowing you existed, or to greet you tomorrow morning, then the next. All you knew was that you were completely and utterly fucked.

[all3-stxr]

i like the way you kiss me

you and satoru were both teacher at jujutsu tech. as always, he pestered you just as much as he did with nanami and yaga. now, he was sitting on your desk of the empty classroom as you dusted off the chalkboard, pouting about the higher ups.

"i just. . . i don't get it. how they don't give a damn about those kids. i think i do a good job about caring, right?"

"you do really well, satoru." you ruffle his hair before returning back to cleaning the chalkboard.

that makes his cheeks flush a little red, not used to such praise. well, sure, he's praised by so many people, but from you, it just felt. . . different.

he cleared his throat before changing the subject. "so. . . wanna go out and get dinner? or is it too early for all of that?"

you hum quietly. "well, actually, i've been meaning to talk to you about something."

as you turn to face him, his blue eyes met yours as he tilted his head to the side. this was something he wasn't prepared for, but he could deal with it. "yeah? what's up?"

you were only able to meet his eyes directly since he was hunched over on your desk (thank god for that). "i want you to leave jujutsu."

he blinked. did he hear that right? sure, the idea of leaving did come across his mind every now and then, but he could never bring himself to do it. he opened his mouth to protest but hesitated before saying anything. ". . . why?"

you glance away for a moment. "they're just using you."

he stared at you for a moment. he knew you were right. hell, everyone knew it - he hated it just as much as you did - but there was no other option. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know. . . i know they are. but i can't just leave. not now. i have responsibilities, there's so much more that i have to do that i can't just leave."

you gently cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at you, despite his blindfold being on and you didn't know where his eyes were trained. "but you deserve more than that."

he didn't hesitate to lean into your hands, letting out a shaky breath. he wished he could leave. but who was going to take his place? he was the strongest for a reason. and what happens to his students when he leaves? megumi? itadori stuck with sukuna? he would never stop blaming himself if something or someone got hurt after he left. "i- i know but- i can't."

"if you wont leave, then promise me this-"

he didn't hesitate to nod, eyes trained on you as he listened to each and every word you had to say.

"-always come back safe to me."

he was a bit taken aback by this. he was strong enough to take on anything, that was what he was made for, right? he didn't doubt his abilities at all, but if it would ease her anxiety and make her happy, then he'd do it. "i promise."

your eyes narrow, taking in his expression with great scrutiny, making sure he wasn't lying. you gently lift his blind fold onto his forehead, finally meeting his beautiful blue orbs (he knew you loved just looking at them).

"thank you, 'toru." you say softly.

his ears grew a little pink at that. "of course." he muttered quietly.

you couldn't help but laugh a little at how shy he seemed for a moment. "dork."

"but i'm your dork, right?" he smirked down at you, looking at you with those bright, adoring eyes.

you roll your eyes and tug the blindfold back down. "yes. my dork."

he was a bit surprised by you tugging down the blindfold but could only smile like an idiot. that's all he was. he was just a big idiot when it came to you. "good. all yours~" he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

you hum. "you know, i never see you kissing nanami's forehead. . ."

he snorted. "i never kiss anyone's forehead. except for yours." he hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. he really was just trying to kiss any part of you he could.

"alright, lover boy, that's enough." you smile and push him away gently.

he pouts and tugs you back against his chest. "come on, just one more. please?"

you shake your head which causes him to whine and pull you closer, your thigh sliding between his and you feel him. all of him.

"i need you." he murmured into your ear.

now, this wasn't the first time you two have gotten a little handsy. working as a sorcerer, you don't have much time for relationships, but that doesn't mean you can just stop being horny. so, just as satoru was your cure for that, you were his. and you couldn't just leave him like this.

"i didn't even do anything, satoru-!" you're cut off by him grinding his hips down against your thigh and you feel that familiar heat pool in your stomach.

"don't need to baby, you're just so fuckin' pretty."

you have to bite back a groan at the sultry hint in his voice, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "please, angel."

you push him back against the chair, making him sit, easily sliding off his belt like it was an everyday occurrence (which it practically was from how good this man felt and sounded while he was balls deep inside of you).

his eyes are trained on you and he slides off his blindfold once more so you can look into his eyes. but what he wasn't expecting was for you to get down on your knees after sliding down his boxers to his ankles, and begin pressing kisses down the shaft of his pretty pink cock.

he has to stop the moan from escaping his lips just at mere kisses, and a large hand clamps over his mouth as your tongue swirls over his flushed tip, leaking with precum.

"so wet already." you snicker, but before you can utter out another word he bucks his hips up into your face, dick sliding down the slippery hole of your throat, making him groan loudly. "mm, i'm sorry. so so so sorry, baby. please- ngh- forgive me." he babbled out, hand coming down to gently stroke your hair as you tried to suppress your gag reflex from acting up.

you can only hum, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as you began to suck him off, hands holding down his toned thighs to stop him from fucking your throat until you couldn't breathe.

his hand bundled up your hair to give him some sort of leverage so he could try (and fail) to hold himself together. that's when his eyes flicker over to the open door and he almost cums right there on the spot - you fucking knew.

"y/n, the door-" his voice is muffled by his hand, and the look in his eyes shows he's about to lose it. if nanami or yaga, or even one of the kids walked in right now-

you slowly slide him out of your mouth, swallowing his slick as you respond. "then be a good boy and be quiet, sweetheart."

he whines at your words. you knew how vocal he could be, especially when you sucked him off - nothing but loud groans and praises, practically begging for you to let him cum in your pussy next or he "might just die."

for someone known as the strongest, he didn't act like it the second his dick came into the picture.

he watches intently as your candied lips slide over his length, cheeks hollowed out, making room for him just because he got hard after kissing your face.

he's entranced by the way only his tip stays in your mouth when you pull up, then sink back down around him in a heap, and he's biting his shirt just to shut himself up (not that it was doing him any favors). you could still hear his pretty groans as his head rolls back, hips faintly stuttering up into your mouth as he tried to close that space and feel your tight little throat around him again.

"fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his hand begins to guide you, pushing you down and slowly lifting you back up easily. he can feel your throat spasming every time you take him in fully, little white hairs tickling your nose before you're back up to just his tip.

you blink up at him and god is this view ethereal. brows knit together, long white lashes fluttering ever so slightly at each thrust, his uniform wettened by his mouth as he moans into it, saying your name like some sort of prayer. you feel just how wet your panties are, and you know you're gonna ask those long fingers to do you a favor later.

"'m gonna cum," the shirt falls from his mouth as he warns you, but you just hum some more, and you know that's what set him off as he lets out the most pornographic moan and keeps you at your pace to ride off his orgasm, and you're sure every person in the school could hear it. creamy white liquid just filling your throat and no matter how many times you swallow, it just keeps coming.

and your thoughts are only confirmed when nanami's voice comes from down the hallway and you almost choke on his load. "gojo?"

[aerithmybbgmypookiemywife]

So I just read your fix about Creator!reader reading a fanfic ‘bout them and it gave me an idea. Like HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT-…

Creator!reader reading a spicy/smut fanfic about them, but in reality, Creator!reader is asexual?? IT WOULD BE AMAZING

lmaoooo can imagine the creator reading smut with a straight face just out of curiosity, entertainment or amusement only to be someone who is asexual.

Imagine Creator! Reader sitting on a chair, reading what seemed to be a book. The book was titled 'That time I had a one night stand with the Creator.', the plot was... Interesting to say the least.

It was a fanfiction containing the reader meeting the Creator under a cherry tree or whatever cliche bullshit the author thought off that ended with whoever the reader was and you, the Creator, banging.

It was just a normal day... The sun was out... You were out having an outdoor lunch along with the Archons and some of the Acolytes. But... Instead of eating you decided to just read the fanfic smut. You were curious as to what it would contain, what people thought of you in that way.

The Archons and Acolytes were all talking while you had the book placed on your lap where no one could see it... But... Imagine Creator! Reader having a habit of reading some words outloud...

"And... The wetness... Thrust... Tongue deep into my ass..." you mumbled. Everyone paused, as if time froze. A majority of them knew those words... those lines... BECAUSE THEY READ THAT BOOK SECRETLY IN THEIR SPARE TIME!!

Venti froze, before choking on his wine. Zhongli cleared his throat. Raiden Ei just looked around, a little confused. Mauvuika shook her head, finding this situation a little ridiculous but funny. Neuvillette nearly spat out the Natlan water he was tasting.

Kinich was side eyeing everyone while Ajaw laughed in the background, Ajaw was about to comment something but Kinich was quick to shut him up. Lyney on the other hand just cleared his throat while his ears were red. Childe tried his hardest to hold in his laugh, only plastering a trembling smile on his face. Wanderer scoffed, as if he didn't read the book too. Yae Miko's eyes widened as she hid her face with a fan, trying her best to not laugh.

You looked up at everyone, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?" you asked. "You-Your Grace... That book..." Zhongli cleared his throat. "Oh? This? It's interesting... But it isn't exactly a good potrayal of me. I'm not that crazy about sex." you said so nonchalantly that everyone got a whiplash.

Safe to say that word spread fast, smuts were now BANNED as the public deemed they weren't an accurate potrayal of the Creator. Authors who try to publish smut about the creator as publicly shamed too, although the public had a secret desire or fantasy of being with the Creator intimately, they still respected the fact that it isn't something the Creator would want.

[hotshotsxyz]

8x01 coda

(buddie adjacent) (784 words) spoilers ahead, read at your own risk!

A little peroxide, a little elbow grease, and the engine bay should be good as new. Five minutes, ten max, except Buck’s been scrubbing for twenty and the fucking stain won’t come up. He kind of wants to scream.

There’s blood soaked into the concrete and blood on his hands and it’s ugly and red and Buck needs it to be gone. He pours more peroxide and watches it foam.

It’s too goddamn quiet in here. The construction’s stopped, obviously, and Hen took the station out of service so no alarm will take its place. No one’s yelling, no one’s commiserating, no one’s vacuuming the fucking upholstery.

Nausea wraps itself around Buck’s organs. A hand lands on his shoulder and he jumps.

“Buck,” Eddie says, quiet, too fucking quiet.

Buck scrubs at the stain.

“Look at me,” Eddie says, kneeling beside him.

He can’t. He fucking can’t because the stain is still there.

Eddie grabs his wrist. “Buck,” he says again, forceful and a little loud.

Buck drops the sponge and whips around. “What?” he asks. It comes out flatter than he thought it would, drenched in something like apathy.

“You can stop,” Eddie says.

“No,” Buck says, shaking his head. “You know what he’ll do if this is here when he gets back?” He gestures at the stain. He can’t even say his name.

Eddie’s hand tightens around his wrist. “Let someone else give it a try,” he says gently.

Buck knows when he’s being fucking handled. He wrenches his wrist from Eddie’s grasp. Eddie grabs his shoulder instead.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says quietly.

A humorless bark of laughter escapes Buck’s throat. “Yeah, no, I just killed a guy. Totally fine.”

“He’s not dead,” Eddie argues.

“Yet.”

Eddie takes a long breath. “He’s not dead,” he repeats. “And even if that changes—”

“What,” Buck interrupts. “It won’t be my fault? It kind of fucking is.”

Eddie shakes his head minutely. “If that changes it’ll be the universe or whatever.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You don’t believe in the universe,” he says.

“No,” Eddie acknowledges. “But I believe in what I can see. And what I saw was you risking your life to save his. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Buck swallows harshly and rocks back on his heels. “For—for a second I—”

“What?” Eddie prompts.

“I was—I wasn’t happy, but I—Eddie, I didn’t care,” Buck says finally. He drops the rest of the way to the floor and pulls his knees to his chest.

Eddie blows out a short puff of air and settles next to Buck. “I’m still not sure I do,” he says, tilting his head to catch Buck’s eyes.

“You don’t have to care,” Buck says. “He’s awful to you, and you’re not the one who killed him.”

“Still not dead,” Eddie reminds him. “And he’s awful to you too. He was in the middle of yelling at you when you saved his life.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s not,” Eddie agrees.

Buck bites his lip. “Have you…” he trails off.

“Ever killed someone?” Eddie guesses.

“You don’t—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Buck stammers.

Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s. “I don’t know,” he says, “not for sure.”

Buck frowns.

“I’ve shot at people,” Eddie continues. “Hit a few. I don’t know if any of them died. I’ll never know.”

“How do you deal with that?”

Eddie levels him with a flat gaze. “Buck. I’m in so much therapy.”

It startles a laugh out of him. “Eds I’m serious,” Buck says.

“I am too,” Eddie replies. “And either way, it’s different. You didn’t kill him.”

“He still might—”

“Buck.” Eddie looks away slightly and shakes his head. “Even if he dies, all you did was change what killed him. You gave him a fighting chance, it’s more than he would’ve given you.”

Buck scrubs at his eyes as they begin to sting. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You talk to me,” Eddie says, nudging his shoulder. “You’re a good person, I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”

A single tear escapes Buck’s lash line. “Yeah?” he asks, watery and rough.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he stands and holds a hand out to Buck. “Come on,” he says. “Brass says we can go home. You’re coming with me.”

Buck takes Eddie’s hand and allows him to pull him to his feet, leaving the sponge and the stain exactly where they are. “Okay,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats.

There’s blood on Buck’s hands. Eddie takes him to the shower room to wash it off.

[jellyfishbug]

SEATBELTS FIRST

pairing. chris x reader genre. smut with plot ! this is part two of pop the hood f'me not proof read.

content; mechanic!chris, smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, p in v, unprotected (wrap ur shit or ill catch you), spit, slight dumbification, creampie, praise, dirty talk, use of pet names, swearing this one is shorter because theres less build up. anyway, sorry for edging you guys, heres pt 2 :)

I got the call around six thirty the next day.

I was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter island in the center with an apple in my mouth when my phone started to buzz in my back pocket. I set my belongings down and struggled until I finally tugged it out of the tight sleeve and glanced at the screen, an unknown number displayed at the top.

I swiped my thumb to answer, pressing it up to my ear and taking the apple out of my mouth to speak, "Hello?"

"hey, it's Chris," I feel my eyes go wide, the apple that was once in my hand dropped onto the counter with a thud. "your truck is good to go- I can drop it to you when I get off."

I swallow, my mouth now paper dry as I reach to stop the apple from rolling off the counter. "Okay- yeah, sounds good. Thank you,"

I could hear the smile in his voice as he laughs lowly before replying, "can't wait."

The line went dead, indicating that he'd hung up. I lowered my phone away from my ear and placed it on the counter next to the apple and stared at it, momentarily averting my gaze to the clock a couple seconds later. He gets off soon .

I'd felt nervous about picking up the car; the night before, when I'd had to reluctantly deny his advances in the backseat to get home on time, he understood and said something along the lines of ''S okay, its not the last time i'll see you, m' sure of that."

But regardless, I felt even more awkward when I had to make him park at the end of the street so i could walk up and make it appear like I'd taken the bus to my dad, rather then have him watch me pulling up with a random kid in a car he'd never seen before. Chris just laughed and nodded at my request, pulling over near the sidewalk at the end of my street and leaning over to press a kiss on my lips, smiling at me when we parted. He opened my door for me with the other hand and said, "I'll call you tomorrow,"

And he did.

About an hour after he called, I saw my truck roll up through the kitchen window above the sink. Chris sat in the driver's seat, and I watched like an idiot as he popped open the drivers door and hopped down, running his hand through his hair mindlessly.

He was wearing a black t shirt that hugged him, partnered with a pair of light wash levi's. His hair wasn't hidden by a bandana this time; it hung loosley, some strands hanging on his forehead and eyes.

My keys were firm in his grip as he walked up the stone pathway. I almost forgot I needed to answer the fucking door, too busy watching him duck his head to avoid the part of my roof that hovered over the front porch, tooth pick in his mouth as he pressed two knuckles to the door and knocked lightly.

The noise of his hand meeting the wooden door startled me back into reality - I shuffled around in the kitchen for a second before I walked up to the front door, taking a deep breath as I twisted the knob and opened it.

His head snapped towards me, a smile appearing on his face whilst he looked me up and down. I did the same, sizing him up with a nervous expression before finally turning it into a grin to match his.

"Hi," he said softly, taking the tooth pick out of his mouth and leaning against the doorway. Before I could even respond, he opened his palm, and I glanced down to see a pair of keys.

I took them from his grasp and grinned, pressing my bottom lip between my teeth. "Thank you," I paused, "For fixing the truck and for bringing it."

He nodded. "Not a problem."

I look away momentarily, glancing between him and the setting sun behind him. I turn around to look at the clock again; 7:34. My dad isn't home for a couple more hours, and I really don't want Chris to leave yet.

He raises his eyebrows at me once my eyes were back on him, like he already knows what I'm about to ask.

"D'you wanna go for a drive?"

A grin is back on his face, this one open-mouthed so I can see his teeth as he licks his lips and nods.

"Absolutely,"

I drove this time. Chris sat in the passenger seat, grinning stupidly with his hand out the window resting on the roof from the outside. The windows were rolled down, and as a result the wind was blowing through the car loudly, leaving no room for any sound between us besides laughter.

Finally, we started to approach a red light. Once we rolled to a stop, a he turned to look at me, toothpick still resting in his mouth. I kept my eyes ahead, nervous to look back, but once i realized he wasn't going to look away until i did, I finally glanced over at him.

His grin was still there, cocky as ever. He took his hand of the roof and let it back in through the window, resting his chin on against his palm.

"Whatch'ya thinkin about?" He asked, his voice soft and curious.

I leaned back against my seat with my head hanging off the head reat slightly, pausing for a moment before answering honestly;

"Yesterday."

He swallowed thickly, and my eyes followed the movement in this throat. He turned to face the road and dropper his head slightly to huff laughter through his nostrils, "Oh?"

I felt my stomach flip, and an excited feeling flooded my gut. I nodded slowly and Chris shifted in his seat, a flustered expression on his face at my words. It wasn't flirting - it felt too lewd to be flirting. But whatever it was, It was fun.

The silence was sharp enough to cut skin. I almost wanted to jump out of the car and leave it running in the intersection with Chris in it, but instead, i felt a pang of satisfaction when Chris raised his eyebrows and asked, "What time do you need to be home?"

The clock on the dash told me it was already 8:30. At this point, It wouldn't make sense for me to go home anyway, and I didn't plan on ending this conversation anytime soon. "Whenever,"

He nodded, a simple acknowledgment of what i said, but he didn't say anything else. The light turned green, and we were moving again. The wind blowing was loud, but quieter now; quiet enough that i could still hear him.

"D'you remember what i said yesterday?" He finally said, turning to stare at me.

I thought for a second, all the words - both filthy and sweet - that we'd said the day before. "One thing specifically?"

He nods. I want to remember, but considering the sheer amount of possibilities he could be referencing, I shake my head.

He licks his bottom lip. "I said I was gonna get you off- but you had to be home . ."

My breath hitches in my throat, and my grip on the steering wheel turns knuckle white. I nod my head. He hasn't looked away, and his gaze is starting to feel like it's burning my skin with every glance.

"You don't have to be home now,"

It came out breathier than he meant it to - I'm sure of that.

Immediately, my mind goes to how uncomfortable shuffling around in the backseat is going to be, especially when theres still daylight and someone could see us, but as if Chris is reading my thoughts, he takes the toothpick out of his mouth again to speak. "Pull over- ill drive."

I nod, not wasting a second to pull over once we're out of the intersection. I pop the drivers door open, leaving it open and walking around to the other side to switch seats, closing the passenger door loudly.

Chris steps up into the driver's seat and shifts the gear, "My place, yeah?"

I'm nodding before he's even done talking.

We're moving again, and he makes no effort to hide his excitement, my eyes darting to the speed tick on the dashboard as he swerves dangerously through and across lanes.

I'm almost nervous my car will end up back in the shop before we even get to his house with the speed we're going, but if it means I get to see him again, it doesn't sound so bad.

His hand moves to rest on my leg, the other carelessly gripping the steering wheel with occasionally glances in the rear view mirror, as well as occasional glances my direction. I pretend not to notice, but the anticipation is burning in my core at the feeling of his eyes grazing my frame.

Before I even noticed we were in a neighborhood, we pull into a driveway. Chris pushes the gear into park and twists the keys in the ignition until the truck is off and glances at me, a knowing smile on his face.

"You good?"

I must've looked red and flustered, and part of me knew that because of how hot my face felt, but embarrassment still lingered in my thoughts as i nodded.

"Yeah,"

He shakes his head and laughs lightly at my response, turning to open the door and step down. I watch as swings around to my side of the car to open mine, reaching a hand out to help me step down, smiling once my feet are on the concrete and the door shut behind me.

As we approach the front door, he fiddles with the keys on his carabiner before finding an orange one with "house" written on it in black sharpie. He unlocks the door and opens it with a small creak, glancing on either side of the living room before turning back to me, signaling me to follow him inside with a tilt of his head.

We walk up the stairs and down a small corridor before reaching the room at the end of the hall, wooden and covered in stickers. He opens it and waits for me to enter behind him.

Once i'm inside, i glance around to take in my serroundings; his bed is in the right corner of the room, neatly made with a handful of pillows carelessly thown against the headboard. Theres a small desk at the other end of the same side, and a handful of license plates carefully hung up above the window. Theres sports memorabilia too, some hockey sticks in a pot and a framed jersey hung near the closet.

I step closer to the frame, tracing my fingers along the glass to examine the fabric. "You play hockey?" I ask, glancing back at him with my hand still against the hung jersey.

He laughs, walking closer to me with his hands in his pockets. "Used too- haven't really played much since I graduated,"

I nodded with a hum of understanding, letting my hand fall back to my side as i walked back towards him. He studies my movements, and once i'm in front of him, i reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind is ear. I purse my lips, eager to fill the silence thats suffocating the both of us. "D'you street race?"

He makes a puzzled face, evidently surprised at the random question, eyebrows furrowed as he tilts his head at me. "Uh, yeah. I mean- sometimes with friends, or on roads in the middle of nowhere for shits and giggles. Why?"

I shrug. "You just... go really fast," my hands are still running through small strands of his hair. "And you swerve- but it's controlled and clean, like it's really familiar to you, or like you do it a lot - so I was just curious."

He grins, raising his eyebrows and stepping ever so slightly closer to me to peer down at me through hazy vision. "You starin at me or somethin?"

I feel my face flush pink and I roll my eyes, my hand finally falling away from his hair. "Maybe."

One of his hands leaves his pocket to draw circles on the waist of my jeans, still eyeing me mischievously. "I don't necessarily like racing for money," he says, his tone honest. "I just like the adrenaline of it- feeling your heartbeat in your throat n' shit. Its fun."

He gently drags one of his hands down my lower pack and puts it into my back pocket, pulling me closer to that we're pressed together completely. "Maybe I'll take you sometime,"

Before I can respond enthusiastically and tell him how much i'd love that, he hooks his other hand on my face with his fingers grazing the back of my neck, pressing his lips against mine.

I'm alarmed for a second until finally kissing him back, my hands on either side of his head, brushing against the stubble on his face. He's kissing with intention; almost impatient, like he's been thinking about this just as much as i have.

It's not long before he's sliding his tongue into my mouth, tilting his head to kiss me deeper, the taste of marlboro red's strong and tangy on his lips. He groans against my mouth, the sensation making a hushed whimper escape me.

He's so fucking cocky with everything he does, the smirk on his lips condescending and teasing as he bites down on my bottom lip in between kisses almost hard enough to bruise. His hand slides out of my back pocket to rest against my back, pushing my lower half against him.

I pull back for a split second, eyes opening to glance into his momentarily, "you're a really good kisser."

He raises his eyebrows, and in an arrogant tone he responds, "oh yeah?"

I nod, a whiny noise building in my throat, growing tired of the absence of his pink lips and leaning back in quickly to kiss him again.

Faces still attached, he spins us around so that my back is facing my bed, walking us slowly towards it until my legs hit the frame and i plop down, frowning at the loss of the kiss.

He tugs at the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head before lowering to place one more kiss on my pouting lips, chuckling when my hands start to fiddle with his belt. "Lie down, sweetheart."

I furrow my eyebrows, "But I-"

He shakes his head, "No," he says, lowering to his knees in front of me. "It's my turn, isn't it?" His fingers trail along the waist of my jeans, fingers fiddling with the button. "Told you i'd get you off, didn't i?"

I lower my back against the bed, propped up on my elbows to eye him as I nod slowly. He grins, dragging my zipper down and wrapping his fingers beneath the fabric of my jeans, tugging them until they're completely off and forgotten on the floor next to him.

He leans down to trail open kisses from my stomach to directly above my core, then on the inner plush skin of my thigh, biting his teeth down lightly into the sensitive skin and swirling his tongue against the mark.

My fists curl against the sheets as I whine from the feeling of the bite, watching as Chris glances up at me with wild eyes through his eyebrows. He lifts his head and wraps his hands around my upper thighs, tugging until i'm resting directly at the end of the bed with my legs on either side of his head.

He tugs at the lining of my underwear, glancing up at me. "This okay?"

I nod quickly. "Please,"

He impatiently pulls them off me and tosses them to the side before continuing the previous action of kissing at my legs, and I start to squirm below him, impatient and restless.

"Patient," he says lowly. "We're not in a rush anymore, remember? 'Wanna take my time with you."

It's sweet; it is, but when he's hovering above where I'm aching the most lazily pressing kisses anywhere but where i need them, it just feels like torture.

"Chris, please, i don't care- jus' need you-" I'm cut off with a slight yelp as he's biting down again, harder this time, savoring the feeling of the soft skin in his mouth before pulling away and all but shoving two of his fingers into my mouth.

I swirl my tongue around his digits, the length of them causing them to brush against the back of my throat harshly enough to gag slightly, but i maintain composure as he slides them back through my lips.

He prods them at my entrance, lowering his head again to finally lap his tongue against my neglected clit. My head knocks back with a whine, lower lip between my teeth as he messily plays with the bundle of nerves.

He's cruel with his mouth, occasionally licking stripes up my cunt messily and groaning. My eyes roll into my head at the feeling of his stubble brushing against my inner thighs, feet shaking against his back as I dig my nails into the cotton sheets beside me. "Wet jus' for me, huh, baby?" he grumbles, his words muffled by me.

I part my lips to answer, but my jaw goes slack as he presses his spit covered fingers into my entrance, his mouth still latched to my slick folds as he pumps them in and out an agonizingly slow pace.

"Fuck," I hiss, one of my hands flying up to grip his hair. "Oh m' god, Chris." My back arches up slightly, but Chris firmly presses his free hand down on my hip, forcing me back against the bed and pressing his nails into the flesh to keep me still.

His fingers speed up the pace, and be grins against me as I whimper pleadingly. He lifts his head for a second to speak. "Yeah? Feel good?"

"So good," I babble, tugging harshly at the roots of his hair as he wraps his lips around my clit, swirling his tongue aggressively as his fingers continue to pump at a stupid pace, whimpers and desperate cry's of his name flooding out of my mouth.

"close?" He taunts, watching as my legs shake on either side of him. He replaces his tongue with his thumb and rubs circles on my clit. "gonna cum for me?"

The lewdness of his words makes the knot in my stomach get impossibly tighter, and I nod helplessly. My legs are aching to close as i chase the high, but Chris keeps them open effortlessly.

I finally snap as his fingers curl against a specific spot inside of me, a loud cry ripping from my throat whilst he continues to sloppily thrust his fingers and mutter praises. He finally stops when i grip his wrist tightly, squirming and whimpering in discomfort from the overstimulation.

He licks his fingers clean and extends back to his full height to lean down and kiss me, "You good?" he asks genuinely, the palm of his hand pressed against my stomach as he rubs his thumb back and forth soothingly.

"Really good," I respond, a warm feeling in my chest when he smiles cheekily. "Good," he says, standing back up to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down to his ankles, stepping out of them and leaving them bunched on the floor.

My lower lip mindlessly rests between my teeth, my expression flushed as i watch him palm himself through his boxers. He takes them off too, stepping closer to place his hands on top of my knees and glance down at me.

He wraps his hand around my wrist to gently tug me up, his fingers tugging at the end of my tank top a a silent request. I lift my arms and he pulls it off an throws it next to me. He leans down to kiss me again, his finger on my chin to lift my head up. "You're really pretty," he hums. I flush pink, the feeling of his eyes glancing over my frame stirring unfamiliar and needy feelings in my gut.

He cups his hand below my mouth, and when I glance between him and his palm dumbly, he clarifies. "Spit for me, sweetheart."

It felt almost dirty; too dirty. But when you compared it to me knee deep in the driver's seat of his car with his cock halfway down my throat and ducking to avoid the steering wheel a mere day prior, it felt like light work.

I pooled spit at the front of my mouth and spit into his palm. "Good girl," he hummed, eyes shifting down to his cock as he pumped it with his saliva coated hand.

He stepped closer, parting my legs and aligning himself with me before glancing at me. "Tap my thigh if you want me to stop, 'kay?"

"Okay," i say, bracing myself as he slowly starts to push himself inside me. My grip on the sheets turns my knuckles white, wincing at stretch, my walls clamping down around him.

Chris digs his teeth into his lip, and he pauses, glancing at my pained expression and my bottom lip that is also snug between my teeth, brows furrowed. "I know, baby. S'okay-doin' so good for me,"

I whine and shift below him as he finally bottoms out, his pressed firmly against me with his dick buried to the hilt. I want to squirm away and tell him its too much, but the painful stretch quickly turns to the pleasure of being full to the brim, and i dig my nails bluntly into his forearm.

"Fuck, so big," I gasp, looking at my lower stomach to see the clear bulge. Chris grins, and i know i'm boosting his ego, but the brain fog flooding through me isn't allowing me to bite my tongue.

"Takin' me so good," he groans lowly, hands still gripping my thighs as he starts to move, and i moan breathily at the feel of his cock dragging against my gummy walls.

He starts to pick up his speed, his grip on the sheets on either side of me tightening as his head hangs to watch my blissed out expression as moans escape my swollen lips, the grip i have on his arm turning animalistic. "S'good, fuck,"

He pulls his arms away to wrap around my legs to go faster, "Oh my god- Fuck," he grunts, and I mewl when he presses his hand down on my lower stomach to feel himself, applying just enough pressure to make my back arch, his dick pounding relentlessly into my gut.

"Yeah? You like that? 'Like how deep I am, baby?" He asks in a way that makes it so rhetorical when he watches my hands brush against his lower stomach mindlessly with pitful hiccups and whines escaping me. I want to answer him, but no words will form.

I'm starting to feel glad he didn't flip me over to fuck me from behind - the view of his pretty face and lips with his jaw dropped in a gasp was too good, and it only made my squeeze around him tighter, desperate to be filled.

"Too dumb on my cock?" he teases at my lack of response, letting his hand fall against my aching cunt to rub lazy circles on my sensitive clit. I squeeze my thighs together with a loud mewl, the pleasure raking through me like a wave.

"so close," I choked out.

It only encouraged Chris to press my knees closer to my chest, dropping his weight against me to fuck deeper. My mouth drops open silently as my legs begin to shake, the twist in my stomach snapping with a loud cry. My body trembles beneath him, his movements not halting as he fucks me through the high. I go limp below him, still whimpering as his thrusts turn sloppy. "Fuck, gonna cum," he rasps, pumping slower but deep. "Where d'you want it, baby?" i wrap my legs around his torso, muttering a 'inside, please.'

He curses under his breath. "Inside you, huh?" he chuckles, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. "S'that what you want?"

I nod rapidly, "Please, 'need it."

That seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he presses his hips firmly against me, coating my walls in thick spurts of white. His nails are digging into my legs, panting heavy while he presses lazy, tired kisses to my legs before leaning down and doing the same on the side of my head.

We stay like that for a second, catching our breath. I feel an ache growing in my legs as they lazily lower onto the bed when he leans off of me slightly, glancing down through hazy vision. He strokes his hand on my stomach affectionately, his touch soothing and sweet as he slowly pulls himself out, whispering apologies when i wince at the sudden soreness.

"You okay?" He hums. My arms fall to lay against my flushed face as i nod, swallowing to aid my dry throat before answering a small "yeah," He brushes thick strands of my hair out of my face with his index finger before lowering his fingers to cup my chin, "Gonna get somethin to clean you up, 'kay? Hold on."

He disappears for a minute into his bathroom, coming back moments later in a fresh pair of boxers with a clean, damp washcloth in hand. He gently parts my legs, carefully cleaning the mess we'd made off of me, his thumb rubbing circles on my upper outter thigh with his free hand.

When he's finished, he tosses the towel on top of his hamper, and then turns back, smiling at my relaxed expression. He puts his hands on either side of my frame, leaning down to press a kiss on my red, bitten lips. When he pulls away, he hovers just a couple inches above my face, the chain around his neck brushing against my chest.

"Next time you have truck troubles," he murmurs, his gaze flicking up to mine. "Don't come to the shop - jus' call me, ill come pop the hood for you."

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) reblogs, likes and follows are appreciated! ! criticism is also appreciated, its how i improve, but please be nice. links below . . . masterlists ! guidelines / info !

[starboye]

starring: scott summers x male reader x remy lebeau

request: Do you think you could do vanilla sex (Doesn't have to be too vanilla but it's just nice and slow and maybe body worship) with Gambit x Scott x bottom reader?? I wanna make Scott all flushed when the reader praises him and Gambit just begging the reader to focus on him as well and he might be a little rougher with his thrusts or something to get his attention!!

warnings: smut, cursing, double penetration, praising, body worship if you squint, vanilla sex, jealous!remy

after a successful mission like today it would be so wrong not to reward your two favorite boys with some loving, bringing them back to your room and slowly starting to make out with them, little congratulation kisses turning into sloppily making out with each other and then you on top of scott with remy standing behind you, both slowly thrusting in and out of your supple hole.

"you did great today scott" you lightly moan leaning down to kiss him deeply "well i couldn't have done it without the team" he tries to say but you stop him with another kiss "and who commanded that team hm" you softly say "i- i did" he stammers to your words, remy standing behind you hoping that he could get some compliments to but no all your loving words go straight to scott annoying him.

"y/n" remy says snaking his hands around your waist "yeah rem" you question turning your head to face him "d-did i do good" he flashes a smile hoping you say something nice "yeah you did good" you shrug your shoulders before turning back to praise scott more, but good just good how come scott gets great and he gets good, what did he do wrong, oh my god are you mad at him, all things remy was thinking as you talked to scott more.

"you were so brave, fighting off the sentinels all by yourself" you further praised him as your hands roamed his body, feeling down his chest all the way to his glistening abs "thank you" he blushes, flustered by all your kind words while remys face turned sour, quietly mimicking your words with annoying facial expressions till an idea sparks in his head and a smirk spreads across his face.

he slowly begins thrusting into you harder trying to get you attention, you feel your body jolt forward a little and some pressure build in you stomach from remys cock hitting the inside of your gummy like walls so you whip around to see the cause, you see remy looking at you with angry eyes, glowing a slight hint of purple at you "is there something you want to tell me remy" you ask, glaring at him with narrow eyes.

breaking down remys walls immediately, his face turning from anger to softness "where's my compliments, i mean you tell scott all these sweet things but not me" he whines sitting his head on your shoulder and slowing thrusts to be more careful "who would've thought that the tough remy lebeau would be a sucker for compliments" you laugh running your fingers through his hair.

"i just wanna hear you" he softly speak into your neck with kisses before wrapping his arms around you into a hug, scott watching in amazement at remy becoming a softy "well you also did so go- no so great today, i saw you out there throwing you cards and blowing stuff up as always" you compliment bringing a little grin to remys face.

"matter of fact both of you did amazing today" you cheerily say making the boys smile widely and inch them closer to their own climaxes "c-can we... cum now" scott asks feeling himself on the edge of blowing "mhm please y/n" remy asks still holding you tightly as if you were going to leave him right there "yes you can" you say feeling them shake under you.

a slew of whines and moans fall from both of their mouths as the pump cum into you, shudders running down your back as their hands search your body for any contacts they can make, groping and grabbing everywhere on you, finally coming down from the high they pull out of you, cum dripping from your sloppy hole and running down your legs.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[pomefioredove]

Hello! I would like to request overblot boys + cater & tweels finding out that the reader who is usually shy and calm all the time is actually a streamer/vtuber. They’re very chaotic when they stream like whenever they get jumpscare, reader would scream really loud and when they find something funny, they would let out the most contagious laugh that would also make their viewers laugh at the most unfunniest things.

Thats all! Please take your time and take care╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ vtuber reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, cater, leona, azul, jade, floyd, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

Cater first came across your content on Magicam. you're popular enough to have people reposting clips of your streams, and, of course, he recognized the cadence of your voice. after a little investigation, he's sure it's you... though he hasn't brought it up quite yet. he's keeping that info for when he needs it

he did, however, tell Riddle, who...

"I don't understand,"

...yeah. he doesn't get your jokes or your avatar or anything really, but he still follows and watches to support you... not that he'd ever admit it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

how did Leona find out? your guess is as good as mine. maybe you let something slip, maybe Cater said something, maybe he just had a feeling

either way, he really enjoys the look on your face when he holds up his phone to show you one of your own streams

"This you?"

...then, he never brings it up again

whether he still watches is for him to know, and you to guess

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade always had a suspicion that you were more than meets the eye, but he never had any reason to pry until Floyd let himself into your room while you were in the middle of a stream

"OOH, pretty, can I try?"

of course, you have to fend him off from your keyboard, and he settles for watching, instead

the next time you stream, he's there again, with Jade, too

the time after that, Azul is also watching

you have no idea why the three of them find this side of you so captivating, but they're quiet, so you let them stay

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Kalim is more online than you'd think. he probably saw a clip of you in a try not to laugh compilation and brought it to Jamil

"Hey, look, their name kinda sounds like our friend! What a funny coincidence!"

Jamil doesn't say anything then, but later, he does look into it. it doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together, after all

he doesn't say anything to you. it's hardly enough for blackmail, and he sees no other reason to bring it up

sometimes, though, when he's alone and working, he'll put on a stream just to hear your voice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook knows, because of course Rook knows, and of course he tells Vil when he feels like it

and of course Vil looks you up out of curiosity, and of course he's surprised to see that you have quite a following. nothing compared to his, but he can't blame you for that. he wonders why you never talk about this, but assuming you have a good reason, he doesn't ask you to, either

...he could never admit that he finds your silly jokes and bits funny, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is the pièce de résistance in all of this

he knew before Kalim, he knew before Cater, he even knew before Rook

he'd been going through different streams and stumbled across yours because he thought your avatar was cute, and...

of course, he recognized you. the way you pause when you're talking, your laugh, even your choice of jokes, is all so... you. he knew you were hiding something behind that shyness

he's been a subscriber and donator since he recognized you, and the only reason he's never brought it up IRL is because he'd pass out if he had to talk to you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's the only one who didn't know until you told him personally (and, even then, he was confused)

it's not like Silver or Sebek are regularly watching vtuber streams, and if Lilia were (he probably is), he wouldn't have said anything. so, it's up to you

it takes a bit to explain everything, and you'll have to show him your avatar to satisfy his curiosity, but he understands everything rather easily

though, he notes that your avatar is not nearly as cute as you are in real life

[yapperblog]

Reader never came from just oral. Joost takes on the challenge.

Explicit RPF below

"You know I actually never do this." you motion in between you two. "Having sex a few hours after meeting someone."

You are in bed with a stranger you met at a party. You had a mutual friend, so it did make you let your guard down and feel more at ease with him. Besides the conversation with him went so easy, like you knew each other for ages.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you the entire evening. All of his close friends were at that same party, but he spent the whole time talking to you. Every time he made you smile, it felt like the biggest win. He listened to your every word, drinking in every bit of information you offered, brought you drinks whenever you were thirsty, gave you his jacket when he noticed goosebumps on your skin. The definition of "If he wanted he would".

"Me too." he is on top of you, holding himself on his forearms, his face only a few inches from yours. "We can stop whenever you want."

"No-no, I want this." you say. "Do you?"

"So much." you feel his breath on your lips. "Besides I think my want is pretty obvious." he looks down at his crotch, you follow his gaze to see a bulge in his pants. You want to touch him, he notices your shyness, as he takes your hand and places right over his clothed cock, his jeans getting so uncomfortable.

You move your hand up and down him feeling the length of him. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, moaning, letting you hear it.

He kisses your neck, right under your ear, inhales the scent of your hair, it is all too much for him. He has never felt so entranced by a person. Every thought is spilling out of his mouth into your ear, like he can't control it, he tells you how soft you feel under his hands, how good you smell, how much he wants you. Your back arches while he moves his hands slowly under your top.

He moves further down your body, biting your collarbone, making you gasp.

"Too much?" he asks lifting his head.

"Not enough." you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him closer.

A smile spreads across his face as he continues to kiss down your chest, hiding his face in the valley of your breasts, still covered by your top. His hand moves from your waist to palm your tit, you hear him exhale into your chest, enjoying the soft feeling under his hands as he continues to squeeze your boob.

You want to feel more of him, you start bunching up his t-shirt on his back, trying to get to the hem and take it off him. He quickly sits up and takes off the t-shirt, you only have a second to catch a glimpse of his hairy chest and a silver cross necklace, before he dives back to you, placing a kiss on your stomach, his hands on your hips, looking up at you, to see if you are okay.

You pull him closer to you for a kiss, before he gets lower. The kiss doesn't last long, when he separates and goes back to moving down your body, but you bring him back into another kiss.

"Am I that good at kissing?" he chuckles. "What's up?" he can sense something is wrong.

"Nothing." you sound unsure, he lifts his eyebrow. "No, it's just it doesn't feel good to me. I can never cum from guys going down on me." you say, looking at your hands, playing with a hem of your top. "There must be something wrong with me. So, don't worry. Let's just skip it."

"What?" he is confused. "It doesn't feel good?"

"I mean, a little, but it never gets me there."

He looks at you trying to process what you said, but then a playful smile starts to spread on his face. "I think those guys just weren't me." his voice cocky, as he leans in closer to you. "Can I please try?" he looks into your eyes, you see a glint in them.

"Joost, it's okay. Really." you place your hands on his shoulders.

"Schat, I feel like I'm going to die if I don't eat you out now." he looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes.

You laugh. "You are so weird." you take a second to look at him. "Okay."

He immediately leans into your neck placing messy open mouthed kisses, earning a surprised moan from you. He kisses your collarbones, his hands sliding under your top, as he looks up at you. "Can I take it off?" you nod and help him get rid off the clothing, leaving you in your bra. "And this?" he says in between kisses down your chest, his hands splayed on your back.

"Yes." you reply. He undoes the clasp of your bra, the straps falling off your shoulders, he throws the bra to the side, revealing you to him. His eyes are trained on your chest, he leans in to place kisses all over your boobs, leaving a few hickeys.

"Joost. Please." you push your chest into his face. He gets the message and wraps his lips around your nipple, playing with it with his tongue, proceeding to suck in, while his other hand grazes the other nipple gently with his nail and proceeds to pull and twist it. You are a whining mess under him already, all of your noises going straight to his dick. But he is determined to take his time with you, get ready for his mouth.

He pulls off your nipple with a pop and looks proud at it swollen and wet. He moves to the other nipple repeating his actions. You feel yourself get more and more wet, lifting your hips into his for friction. He moans against your chest. He likes that you are so needy for him already.

"You are so beautiful." he looks up at you at the same time as you were thinking the exact same thing about him.

He kisses slowly at your stomach, getting close to the waistband of your jeans, as he feels you tense up under him.

"I promise I will make you feel so good." he says sitting up. "Do you trust me?"

"I do" you say the truth.

"Can I take these off?" he places his hands on your hips, ready to take off your jeans.

"Yes." you lift your hips to help him undress you. He lays down on the bed, placing kisses on your inner thighs.

"So soft." he whispers. His kisses get closer and closer to your pussy.

"But please don't get mad when it takes too long." you look at him in between your thighs.

He looks up at you his eyebrows furrowed. "What kind of assholes have you been with?"

"Yeah, I am good at finding those."

"I am going to make you forget all about them." he says and places a kiss over your clothed pussy. He can feel how wet you are already, it almost pulls a moan out of him, but he wants to listen to you, so he stays as quiet as possible.

"Just relax for me, baby." you lay your head back on the pillows, as he takes off your panties and you spread your legs wider for him. He places one of your legs on his shoulder and lays down on the bed completely.

He kisses the soft skin of your inner thigh, slowly getting to your pussy, he kisses your folds, finally licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, pulling a moan from you, it sounds like music to his ears. He focuses on your clit, spreading your folds with two fingers, to get more access.

You were so wet and pent up from how ready he got you before, you have to admit it feels good to have him in between your legs, your back arches, but he keeps a strong hold on your hips. Your heal digging into his back but he likes it, the fact that you are enjoying yourself.

He laps at your cunt, listening to every sound you make, finding out what feels good for you. He moves closer to your hole, fucks you with his tongue, his nose catching on your clit, driving you crazy.

He brings one of his hands to your chest, teasing your nipple, feeling you clench around his tongue. You let out a loud whine and feel him moan into your cunt. You look down at him, his eyes are closed, eyebrows knitted together, so focused on your pleasure. You put your hand over his on your tit, squeezing even harder, that's when you notice his hips moving against the bed, humping it. You can't believe he is getting off on eating you out. His tongue reaches a sensitive part of you and you throw your head back at the feeling growing in your lower stomach.

The sight of him humping the bed, moaning into your pussy, sucking your clit so deliciously, taking his time with you, makes you realise how close to your climax you are getting. This man you just met today is making you feel things your ex boyfriends couldn't even get close to.

He looks up at you, seeing you lost in pleasure, your hand thrown back into the pillows, gripping the sheets, mouth open. He licks two of his fingers, and slowly puts one finger into your pussy, feeling it tighten,

"You are so sensitive, I can't believe no one did this for you before." he says, his lips and chin shiny with your juices, as he sticks another finger in, curling them, to find that spongey spot, that will drive you even closer to the sweet release. He dives back in, licking and sucking your clit.

He curls his fingers just right and with added pressure on your clit, you grip his hair, grinding your hips into his face.

"Joost. Fuck, that's it." you almost scream. "Please don't stop."

Your voice makes him hump the bed even harder, there is a wet spot already from his pre-cum. He brings his hand to your lower stomach, adding pressure softly. You start to see stars, how hard you're are squeezing your eyes shut, the feeling covers your entire body, a hot wave. You grip his hair even tighter, which makes him groan. But he would let you do anything to him in that moment, he is so happy he is making you feel good. Your walls are squeezing his fingers so tight, he can't even imagine how good it will feel when he gets his dick inside of you, worried he won't last long.

"Ohmygodohmygod" you scream, not being able to hold it in anymore. You feel him smile against your cunt, and you release on his fingers, on his mouth. He lets you ride your high, hold you in place with his hand on your lower stomach. He continues to eat you out hungrily, not missing a spot, licks at your folds until you are pushing him away overstimulated.

He stops, leans his head on your thigh, enjoying the view of your rising chest, a shiny layer of sweat covering you.

"So, how was it?" he asks you, he sounds so cocky, proud of himself.

"Insane. That was insane." you are out of breath, your brain feels like a mush.

He leaves one last kiss on your pussy, a whine escaping you, when he pushes himself on top of you again, caging you in, holding himself up on his forearms. There are tears on your face, which he kisses away. Your vision finally comes back to you, you look at him, he looks so good, his hair is messy, cheeks a little red, chin still wet with your slick, his necklace dangling in your face. You hook your finger around it and bring him closer, colliding your lips together. You taste yourself on his tongue, a moan slipping out of you, which makes him push his hips into you. You feel him so hard and heavy.

"Do you want me on top?" you ask him.

"Oh yes." he wraps your hands around his shoulders, snaking one hand around your lower back and easily flips you around. You squeal at his fast action, now he is sitting against the bed frame, with you on top.

You sit back, his dick wet with pre-cum in between you. You move your hand to stroke him, his mouth opens, letting out a soft groan.

"You have such a pretty dick." you stroke him slowly, feeling the velvety skin under your palm. Your other hand moves to his neck, moving towards his broad shoulder, just feeling him. You slide your hand down further onto his chest, his hair a little darker there than on his head. You stop to feel his wild heartbeat, moving even lower to his soft stomach. You think he is the hottest man you've ever seen. He is watching your every move, enjoying your hands on him. The way you look at him, your eyes filled with lust, strokes his ego. He is glad you want him as much as he wants you.

You start to feel him twitch under your hand, but he doesn't rush you like your previous partners would do. You take out a condom from the pack, open the packaging with your teeth and roll the condom onto him slowly. You press your lips against his, his hand on the back of your head, holding your hair. You lean your forehead against his, breathing the same air, you look down, when you start to lift your hips, swiping his dick between your folds. He is thicker than your previous partners, you know the stretch will be there, even after you already came.

You start to lower yourself slowly, both of you letting out a groan, when he first enters you. He is holding your hips, helping you take him in.

"That's it. You are taking me so well." his voice is quiet, eyes fixed between your bodies, watching you lower yourself on him. You feel so good and tight around him even through the rubber.

Soft little gasps leave your mouth, as you start to move on him. You hold him by the shoulders and feel a strong hold of his hands on his hips, setting the slow pace.

You start bouncing faster, painful stretch finally turning into pleasure. You pinch your nipple and he feels you clench around him. He is holding himself from cumming too fast, wants this to last, wants to see you on top of him for a little while longer. He hopes this is not the last time he gets to see you like this.

He moves his hand under your ass helping you set the pace and buries his face into your chest, feeling it move against him, bringing you to him as close as possible. He blindly kisses every bit of skin he can get his mouth on, moaning loudly.

"I am so close." he pushes his hand between you to draw fast circles on your clit.

"Me too." you throw your head back, switching between bouncing and moving your hips in circles.

He starts to thrust up, holding your hips and touching your clit at the same time. He starts to feel your pulse on his dick.

"You feel so good around me." he says in between thrusts. "Fuck. Can I please cum? Are you close?" he says looking up at you.

"I am almost there. Cum. Cum for me." you say and feel him twitch under you, he releases into the condom with a loud groan, loosing the rhythm of his thrusts. He presses you close to him, hits so unbelievably deep, it triggers your climax, you start to feel lightheaded with how strong you cum.

You are both trying to catch your breath, not ready to separate from each other. You scratch his head, still pressed into your chest, while he is moving his hands soothingly on your back.

"That was the best sex I ever had." you admit to him quietly.

He looks up at you. "Same." he brings you into a kiss with a hand on the back of your head. It is slow now, you still feel him inside of you. He tightens his grip on your hair, making you gasp into his mouth, letting him put his tongue in. You are both trying to make this last longer and longer, not sure what happens after.

He pulls back, you start to get up, hissing at the feeling.

He throws away the condom, and lays back, pulling you into his chest. You wrap your hands around him, glad he didn't leave as soon as he was finished. He puts the blanket around you hoping it will also make you stay.

"Can I see tomorrow?" he asks. He wants to get to know you even better, to take you on a proper date, wants to show you his music, introduce you to all his friends.

You look up at him. "I would love that."

"Can you also stay the night with me?" he asks, unsure. "Or, I can walk you home, if you want." his mind starts racing, he wants you to have a choice, but also wants you to stay so bad.

"I can stay." you wrap your hands tighter around him. He lets out a breath he was holding and brings you closer to his chest. You are in his arms, but he already can't wait to see you tomorrow, when he wakes up.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.

But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you

Jealousy

Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.

A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!

It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.

He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.

He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.

So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.

He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.

He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.

The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.

He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.

-

She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.

But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.

She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.

“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Dun’ kiss him”

“What the fuck?”

Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.

“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.

“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”

“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”

“‘cause I can’t stand it”

“Why do you care?”

“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”

“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”

“I didn’t-what?”

He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.

“I did want ya”

Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.

“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”

“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”

He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.

The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.

The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.

It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.

It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.

A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.

“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.

“I-uh-yeah-I”

She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.

“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”

The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.

-

She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl��s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.

Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.

“I’m a’ idiot”

“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.

“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.

“You’re not going to run away again?”

“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”

[judebellswife]

Full Name Frenzy

— pairing • dad!jude bellingham x mom!reader

— summary • You, Jude Bellingham’s fun-loving girlfriend, team up with his entire family to pull off a hilarious TikTok prank where you call him by his full name in front of everyone. The plan is perfect: everyone’s in on the joke, except Jude. His adorable daughter, Rosie, steals the show with her hilarious reaction, turning the prank into a memorable family moment filled with love and laughter.

— warnings • Fluff overload, light teasing, adorable family dynamics, and lots of banter.

— wanna talk or send request • to charlotte

It was a calm, sunny Sunday afternoon at the Bellingham family house—one of those rare lazy days when everyone could simply relax and enjoy each other's company. The smell of a home-cooked lunch lingered in the air as the house buzzed with light conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. It was a perfect family day, but for you, it was the perfect setup for a prank you had been planning for days.

As you sat on the living room couch with your boyfriend, Jude Bellingham, and your three-year-old daughter Rosie, you were practically giddy with excitement. The idea had started as a harmless joke when you stumbled upon a viral TikTok trend. It was simple: call your partner by their full name and capture their reaction. But knowing Jude’s playful personality and the fact that he was surrounded by his family—his parents Denise and Mark, and his younger brother Jobe—you couldn’t resist going all in.

It was about time to pull off the prank, but not without some help from Jude’s family.

The night before, after Jude had gone to bed, you had shared your plan with the rest of the family, gathering them in the kitchen for a secret discussion.

“So, I’ve got a prank in mind,” you whispered with a grin, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Jude wasn’t anywhere near. “And I need all of you to help me pull it off.”

Denise and Mark immediately perked up. Denise smiled warmly as she leaned against the counter, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Oh, I love a good prank. What are we doing?”

You explained the viral TikTok trend and how you planned to call Jude by his full name—Jude Victor William Bellingham—in front of everyone. The key to the prank was keeping a straight face and making Jude think he was in some serious trouble, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Mark chuckled, already seeing how Jude might react. “You know he’s going to be confused as hell. He never hears his full name unless it’s something serious.”

Denise nodded enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And he hasn’t been called that since he was a little boy. I’m in.”

Jobe, who had been listening while casually scrolling through his phone, suddenly grinned. “Wait, you want us all to act like Jude’s in trouble? Oh, I’m so in for this. I’ll make it dramatic.”

You laughed, already imagining Jobe hamming it up and making Jude’s confusion even worse. “Exactly! He won’t know what hit him. I’m going to start it off casually, and then we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Denise giggled like a schoolgirl. “I can’t wait to see his face.”

“And don’t worry,” you added with a wink. “Rosie will have the final word. She’s going to unknowingly seal the deal.”

Mark laughed and nodded approvingly. “You’re using our granddaughter as the secret weapon. Smart move.”

The plan was set. You all knew your roles. Now, all you had to do was wait until tomorrow.

The next day, everything felt perfect. The family had gathered in the living room after a hearty lunch. Jude, unaware of what was coming, was lounging comfortably on the couch next to you, scrolling through Netflix and mindlessly suggesting shows to watch.

Your daughter, Rosie, was sitting on the floor, her tiny fingers wrapped around the plastic handles of her dolls as she hummed happily to herself. Jude’s parents, Denise and Mark, sat across the room in armchairs, chatting softly, while Jobe sprawled out on the other couch, pretending to be deep into his phone, but really waiting for his moment to strike.

You caught Denise’s eye from across the room, and she gave you a small, conspiratorial nod. It was time.

You leaned back against the cushions, acting as casual as you could, before dropping the bomb. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you said, your voice carrying just enough weight to suggest seriousness, but not too much to make it sound fake.

Jude’s body froze. He turned slowly to look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Wait... what?” he said, blinking at you as if you had just said something in a foreign language.

You stared back at him, keeping your face completely neutral. “You heard me,” you said with a deadpan expression. “Jude Victor William Bellingham.”

The room fell silent. Denise lowered her cup of tea slowly, her eyes widening in what could only be described as mock concern. Mark raised an eyebrow from behind his newspaper, peeking over the top like he was waiting for some kind of explanation. Even Jobe, who had been doing his best to act oblivious, now sat up straighter, his mouth open in exaggerated shock.

“Bro,” Jobe muttered, shaking his head dramatically. “Not the full name. You’re in deep now.”

Jude looked around the room, his expression one of total confusion. “What the hell is going on? Why are you using my full name like that?”

Denise, ever the supportive mom, chimed in softly, her voice laced with concern. “Sweetheart, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jude exclaimed, laughing nervously, but still visibly unsettled by the sudden use of his full name. “Why is everyone acting like I’ve committed some crime?”

You tried your hardest to maintain your composure, but it was difficult. Jude’s face was a mix of disbelief, nervousness, and slight panic, like he was trying to figure out if there was some major mistake he didn’t remember making.

Jobe, of course, leaned into the drama, shaking his head slowly. “Nah, bro, when they drop your full name like that, it’s over. You’ve done something. Just admit it now and save yourself.”

Jude looked genuinely baffled now, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I haven’t done anything! I swear!”

You kept your serious expression, though inside you were practically bursting with laughter. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable for extra effect. “I can’t believe you don’t know what you’ve done.”

Jude threw his hands up in the air, looking helplessly around the room. “I’m telling you, I’ve got no idea! Mum, Dad, help me out here!”

Denise shrugged, her lips pressed together as if she were trying hard not to laugh. “I don’t know, Jude. She used your full name. You must have done something.”

At this point, Mark lowered his newspaper fully, folding it on his lap as he gave Jude a sympathetic look. “Son, full names are no joke. Maybe it’s time to come clean.”

Jude groaned, still laughing but now visibly confused and stressed. “But there’s nothing to come clean about! You’re all ganging up on me for no reason!”

That’s when Rosie, who had been mostly absorbed in her dolls, suddenly looked up. Her big brown eyes, wide and full of innocence, locked onto her father. She paused for a moment, processing the serious tone everyone had adopted, before deciding it was time for her input.

In the sweetest, most innocent voice, she pointed a tiny finger at Jude and said, “Oooooh, Dada, you’re in soooo much trouble.”

That was it. The room erupted into chaos. Jobe doubled over, clutching his stomach as he let out a loud laugh. Denise was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, while Mark chuckled deeply, unable to contain himself. You couldn’t hold it in any longer either, bursting into giggles as Rosie’s serious tone tipped everyone over the edge.

Jude, now laughing but still utterly bewildered, pulled Rosie into his lap, covering her face with kisses as she squealed with delight. “You little traitor!” he teased, tickling her until she shrieked with laughter. “Even you’re turning against me?”

Rosie wiggled in his arms, still giggling as she buried her face into his chest. “Dada in trouble!” she squeaked, clearly enjoying the attention and the fact that she had somehow been part of the big prank.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, finally catching your breath. “You should’ve seen your face, Jude. You looked like you were trying to figure out if you’d broken the law or something!”

Jude shook his head, though his smile was wide and affectionate. “I genuinely thought I’d forgotten something major, like our anniversary or Rosie’s birthday or—I don’t even know!” He laughed, running a hand through his hair again. “You got me good, I’ll give you that.”

Denise, still recovering from her laughter, smiled warmly at you. “That was brilliant, darling. You’ve officially outdone yourself.”

Mark nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen Jude look so lost in my life. Well done.”

Jobe, who had been leaning back on the couch with a smug grin, chimed in. “I’ll give you points for execution, but honestly, Rosie’s line took it to a whole new level. That was gold.”

Rosie, still sitting in Jude’s lap, seemed to sense that she had become the star of the show. She smiled proudly, looking up at her father with wide eyes. “I got you, Dada,” she said softly, and Jude’s heart melted on the spot.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a big hug. “Yeah, you did, little one. You’re too smart for your own good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth in your chest as you watched the scene unfold. What had started as a lighthearted prank had turned into one of those perfect family moments—filled with love, laughter, and the kind of joy that only comes from being surrounded by the people who matter most.

Jude leaned back, cradling Rosie against his chest, and gave you a playful look. “You realize this means war, right? There’s no way I’m letting you get away with this.”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, if you think you’re getting away with pranks this easily, you’re in for a surprise.”

Mark, who had returned to his newspaper, chuckled quietly. “Careful, son. She’s got Rosie on her side. You don’t stand a chance.”

Jobe snickered. “Yeah, man. You’re outnumbered.”

Denise, always the peacemaker, leaned forward and patted Jude’s knee. “Well, at least now you know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a prank. I’d say it builds character.”

Jude groaned dramatically but squeezed Rosie a little tighter, his playful eyes never leaving yours. “I guess this is what I get for falling in love with a prankster.”

You leaned in closer, your voice soft but teasing. “And don’t forget, I’ve got the ultimate prank partner right here.” You gestured toward Rosie, who had already snuggled into Jude’s chest, her tiny hand gripping his shirt as she started to doze off after all the excitement.

Jude smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Yeah, yeah. I guess if it’s you two, I can handle a little trouble.”

As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the cozy living room, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the simple joys of family life. The prank had been a success, sure, but more than that, it was moments like these—filled with love, laughter, and the people you loved most—that made everything feel just right.

And as you snuggled up next to Jude, Rosie sound asleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what, these were the moments that would stick with you forever.

[https-murdock]

Love Like This - Matt Murdock

summary: Matt has never felt anything like this, never mind a love like this.

word count: ~1k

warnings: porn with plot (finally!!) - oral (F receiving), p in v, suuuper lovey dovey stuff - 18+ MDNI

note: felt like writing something super loved up! hope it’s ok :))

Matt often wonders how someone with a heart like yours has fallen for someone with a heart like his.

When he comes home from work and smells you. Sitting on his couch, he knows you have your eyes glued to the tv by the way you don’t even realise he’s walked in.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He smirks, glasses and cane placed in his usual spot.

“Oh, hey! sorry i got really invested again.” You’re laughing now, and he can feel the vibrations through his chest.

There has always been something about you that made Matt feel like the world would heal again. The way you laughed, the way you grab his arm when he makes a good joke, the way you hum to yourself while you clean - everything, right down to the way your breathing hitches slightly in your dreams. There was always something about you that Matt just got.

“You know how much i love you, right?” He says, tie now across the back of the couch, few buttons undone, as he sits next to you with one arm around you. “Course i do. and you know how much i love you?” You’re very aware of how soppy you’d sound to other people, but these moments come rarely with Matt so you take them as they come.

You move to straddle him on his couch, holding his stubbled cheeks in your hands as he smiles up at you.

“I do.”

Matt’s lips meet yours in a loving, gentle moment - and it almost makes you wonder what has made him so lovey today. He always loves you, and he’s no stranger in showing you that, but it’s not often he’s so open about his feelings.

As the kiss is becoming deeper, tongues meeting, his hands move under the t-shirt of his that adorns your skin nearly every night.

“Mmm, so beautiful,” He mutters to himself, lifting your t-shirt over your head and letting your fingers work across the buttons of his suit shirt, “Can never get enough of you.”

“Need you.” You speak, lips still attached to his.

Tough hands flip you onto your back, leather couch sticking to the slight sheen of sweat against your skin. Now only in underwear, you feel much more exposed than him. “Matt, need to see you, please.” You smile, and he doesn’t even reply before taking off his shirt and undoing his belt, letting his suit pants fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing.

“Wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart.” Matt whispers, leaning down and letting his nose meet your naked thigh, biting gently and relishing in the muted moan that leaves your lips.

Silently, you sit begging for his touch, only hearing your breaths between each other. He knows what you want, what you need, but he’s just existing in the moment.

“H- Shit.” Words have now left you, as he licks a long stripe up your folds, leaving you breathless at his touch, “Taste so good.” Matt talks between your thighs, running his tongue in circles around your clit.

All thoughts leave your mind, your body the only thing existing with the way it feels under Matt’s touch. His hands hold your wrists down at the side of your body, feeling how tense your arms become when you can feel an orgasm building,

“Always so wet, all for me, love.” He smirks, letting his teeth graze your clit softly, before going right back to his little kitten licks. All that can be heard in his loft is your breathy moans, Matt relishing in the way you sound each time he touches you.

Before you know it, you’re right on the edge of the point you desperately need to tip over, and you’re begging for more. “M- Please, fuck i’m-“ You’re well aware you don’t make much sense, but all you care about is the way his mouth is making you feel. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

His deep, growling voice was all you needed to fly across the line. Hearing muffled, your back arches off Matt’s sofa, his hands moving to your hips as his mouth doesn’t slow down, leading you through your orgasm.

“Matt, fuck me.” You mumble, pins and needles still running through your fingertips from your erratic breathing.

“Patience, love.” He giggles, standing up to strip himself of his boxers before sitting down with his back to the couch. As you straddle him again, you think of all the memories you share and the nights spent on his sofa together.

As you sink down onto him, his head falls to your shoulder, groaning to himself about how right you feel around him, “Always wrap around me so well.” his hands graze up your skin, meeting both of your tits, thumbs running across your nipples as he listens to how fast it sends your heart rate.

“M- Feel so good, so good.” You babble, bouncing softly up and down, feeling how deep he’s reaching inside your walls.

The way your slick is slowly hitting the base of his cock is sending Matt’s brain wild, the feeling of you so tightly around him making him realise how he fell so in love with you so quickly, everything about you feels amazing.

“Ahh- keep going, beautiful.” He realises it sounds like he’s begging, and maybe he is.

“Please, come inside me.” You’re now doing the same, letting his thumb meet your clit, rubbing tight circles craving the way it feels for you to finish around him once more.

You both come together, lips tensely meeting, teeth clashing. A throaty groan comes from Matt as his hips falter, feeling the way you clench around him as thick white ropes paint your walls.

Once you’ve both cooled off, cleaned up as per Matt, you finally get to sit down and talk about the day.

“Hmm, doesn’t matter.” he mutters, lying back in the bed with you on his chest, breathing returned back to normal.

“What matters then? i wanna know ‘bout your day.” You laugh, leaning upwards to look at the way he’s sitting, eyes closed, fully relaxed in the sheets.

“You.”

—

tags

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs

[velarisdusk]

Embers to Ice

Cassian x Reader

Series Masterlist Part 5 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 7 - TBD!

word count: 6k

content: [ explicit sexual content, dub-con, unprotected PIV, rough sex, rough oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, gagging, slapping, begging, degradation | mentions of infidelity, explicit language, emotional manipulation, alcohol ]

summary: When something pushes Cassian's anger over the edge, you receive an unexpected text from him. It ignites a fiery and intense encounter, blurring the lines between desire and pain. As his anger drives him to relentless passion, you're left to confront both the storm of emotions and the unsettling truth that follows.

author's note: we're coming up on the end here omgomg how exciting!!!! well.. maybe not super exciting for yall, these final two installments are a bit uhhhh......... anyway sorry for the bomb drop at the end teehee (no im not)

Cassian carved through the ice, his movements sharp, cutting, but automatic. His mind was far from focused on the drills. He was just here, skating because it was something to do, something to drown out the gnawing anger that had been festering for weeks. The rest of the team was trickling in, but there was no camaraderie in the air — none of the easy-going banter or brotherhood he once felt. The weight of their betrayal hung thick, unspoken, but suffocating.

Three weeks. Three weeks since he’d caught her at Ianthe’s party, caught all of them. Three weeks since everything came crashing down. He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d dropped her off at her mom’s. The apartment felt too big without her, too empty. She wasn’t just his anymore. She was theirs too — all of them. Every interaction with his teammates felt like an insult, every laugh he’d heard them share like a knife between his ribs, twisting just enough to remind him they had all taken something from him.

Cassian’s gloved hands tightened around his stick as he skated another lap. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, could sense the tension rippling through the air. No one had addressed it, not directly. But it was there. Palpable.

He pushed forward, the sharp bite of his blades cutting into the ice, trying to shake the anger threatening to overtake him. But then the rink doors swung open, and Eris stepped onto the ice, his skates gliding effortlessly as if he owned the place.

Cassian barely glanced at him — until he caught a blur of red. 

His gaze zeroed in on the red scrunchie, wrapped around the shaft of Eris’s hockey stick. It looked an awful lot like the one you wore to their games as a good luck charm. He wasn’t naive.

The world seemed to freeze around him, the noise of the rink dulling to a muted hum. The red fabric, twirling around with each movement Eris made, was like a flashing neon sign — mocking him, daring him to react. It wasn’t just a scrunchie. It was proof. Cassian’s knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on his stick. His pulse pounded in his ears, his heart slamming against his ribcage as his fury bubbled to the surface. He wanted to hit something. No. He wanted to hit him. 

“Nice scrunchie, Eris.” The words slid from his mouth, low and cold, as they glided past each other. 

Eris didn’t even glance at him, the bastard. Just smiled that infuriating smile that made him want to punch his teeth in, twirling his stick lazily in his hand. “What can I say?” Eris called back, loud enough for it to echo throughout the rink, for everyone else to hear. “I always leave with a souvenir.”

He could see the other guys trying to avoid his gaze, awkward and unsure, but none of them said anything. Not one of them. It was enough to make Cassian’s blood boil.

His chest heaved as he fought the urge to lash out, to take a swing at Eris right then and there. But he didn’t. Instead, he let the anger simmer, his jaw clenching so hard it ached. The tension coiled tight within him like a live wire sparking just beneath his skin, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a vice. 

Cassian led them all through the drills, but he barely registered any of it. Every glance at Eris, every flick of that red scrunchie, was a reminder of how everything had fallen apart. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You’re sitting at the small desk in your childhood bedroom, the dim glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains, staring blankly at a cup of coffee that’s long since gone cold. It’s been three days since you shared Eris’s company, the weight of your decisions settling like lead in your chest. This room, so familiar, used to feel so safe. Now, it just feels… too small, too suffocating. 

Cassian is still back at the apartment, you assume. You haven’t been back there since the evening of the party. You can picture it: his clothes strewn carelessly in the closet, the dent in the couch where he always sat, the ring of your perfume still lingering in the air. The life you built together — the life you wrecked — is just there, untouched, waiting, while you sit here. Stuck.

You haven’t spoken in weeks. Not since the night he found out. Not since his eyes darkened with betrayal and he left you standing at your mother’s door, guilty. And the shame, the regret, the memories won’t let you go.

Especially not the ones of Eris. Three days ago, his hands were on you. Three days ago, you were tied up in his basement and tangled in his sheets, knowing you shouldn’t be but doing it anyway. He made you feel wanted, but the moment it was over, the emptiness came back. No matter how much you tried to bury it, it’s still there. The mess, the guilt, all of it crashing down on you like a punishment you can’t escape.

Your phone vibrates on the desk, pulling you out of your thoughts. You aren’t expecting anything, so when you see Cassian’s name light up the screen, it’s like a cold hand gripping your heart. Your fingers hesitate above the screen. It’s been weeks. Why now?

You tap the notification, and your breath catches in your throat when you read the message. 

Come over?

Your mind reels. Is he reaching out for a conversation? Is this a second chance, or just another storm surge? You know better than to hope too much, Cassian doesn’t forgive easily. But you can’t help the flicker of something — hope, desperation, need — that sparks to life in your chest. Still, there’s dread pooling in your stomach. The anger in his eyes that night, when he’d caught you all, you haven’t been able to get it out of your head. 

why ?

A long pause. You stare at the screen, pulse thrumming in your ears, until finally, the reply comes. 

You’ll see.

“what do you mean ?” you respond. A minute passes, then two. Your stomach twists in knots as you watch the “typing” bubble flash and disappear, then reappear again.

I think you know what I mean.

You close your eyes, his words sinking in, but you can’t read the tone. You’ve never been more afraid of a message in your life. 

cass, i don’t like fighting with you. can we talk ? please ?

His response is immediate. Who said anything about fighting?

You bite your lip, the uncertainty clawing at you. What does he want from you? An apology? Closure? Or something else entirely? Part of you wants to refuse, to put some more distance between you both before you get pulled back into the emotional chaos. But the other part, the one still clinging to the hope that things might not be as broken as they seem, presses on.

why now ?

It’s blunt, but you need to know. After weeks of nothing, after he’d shut you out completely, why now?

Does it matter?

Meet me, or don’t. Up to you.

The pit in your stomach deepens. The words are cold, and yet there’s something just underneath them, something unresolved and simmering just beneath the surface. You know this isn’t going to be easy, and that whatever happens tonight will leave you with more scars than you already have. But…

what time ?

9. Door will be open.

It’s 8 now. You stare at the screen, his final message sitting there like a weight pressing down on your chest. You should feel relieved that he’s giving you a chance, but instead, there’s only dread — and that flicker of hope that refuses to die. You set the phone down and let out a shaky breath. Cassian’s messages were as vague as they were unsettling, leaving you to stew in a mixture of dread and longing. The suddenness of his invite, the cold indifference in his words, the fact that you had no idea what would be waiting for you when you got there… You couldn’t shake the feeling that this meeting was going to end badly, but you couldn’t turn away from it, either. Not from him. 

Pushing back from the desk, you stood and wandered over to the small mirror above your dresser, staring at your reflection. Your eyes were tired, dark circles haunting your gaze from sleepless nights spent replaying every mistake you made. You didn’t know how to fix things. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you could fix things. But the need to try was too strong to ignore. 

Why now? You’d asked him, and his answer hadn’t been comforting. What would you even say to him? No amount of rehearsing could prepare you for the real thing, and every potential conversation that played out in your head ended in disaster. The truth was, you didn’t have the right words, didn’t know how to explain why you’d done what you had. Worse, you didn’t even know if he’d listen. He very well may have been calling you over to come get your things. 

As you stood in front of your closet trying to decide what to wear, you rubbed at the tightness in your chest, struggling to steady your breath. But the anxiety was relentless, spiking every time the thought of facing him crept back in. Cassian’s anger had always been a force to reckon with, and after everything you’d done, you didn’t want to imagine it directed at you. 

Maybe this is what I deserve, you thought bitterly. Maybe this meeting wasn’t about closure or second chances. Maybe it was just another consequence of your actions.

Those words echoed in your mind as you stood in front of the door. Your door. His door. Just like he said, it was unlocked, the latch clicking open with a slight push. The quiet inside felt oppressive, thick. You hesitated on the threshold, half-tempted to turn around and leave, but the soft hum of the TV in the living room drew you in. 

And there he was — Cassian, sitting in the dim light, his arms crossed, his broad shoulders tense. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t so much as glanced your way, but the air in the room shifted the moment you stepped inside. The space between you felt tense, like something fragile waiting to shatter. 

You closed the door behind with a soft click, the sound almost deafening in the silence that followed. 

“You came,” Cassian said, his voice low, emotionless. He didn’t bother looking at you, his gaze fixed ahead on the TV, but you knew he wasn’t watching. You could feel the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“Yeah.” Your voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. 

He stayed silent for a long moment. You were about to say something when he stood from the couch. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there. But when he finally turned to face you, it was like a punch to the gut. You could see it — the pain. The shadows under his eyes were darker than you remembered, his normally sharp features softened with exhaustion. Cassian had lost just as much sleep as you had, maybe more. And of course, he had. You’d wrecked everything between you in the worst way possible. You’d torn him apart. 

He took a slow step toward you, his gaze heavy, intense. There was no softness in his eyes, no hint of the Cassian who used to hold you close after every game, who used to make you laugh when no one else could. This version of him… he was something else. The anger, the betrayal, it still lingered in the air around him, even if he wasn’t saying it out loud.

He stopped when he was close enough for you to feel the heat coming off his body, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of whiskey already on his breath. “You want a drink?” he asked, his voice rough but casual, like you were just two old friends catching up.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I’m good.” I don’t want to pretend everything’s fine, you wanted to say. You wanted to talk, to finally get everything out in the open. 

He sucked his teeth, a sound that almost felt like a scoff, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Ahh, come on,” he said, moving past you to the kitchen. You heard the clink of glass as he pulled two tumblers down from the shelf, the dull slosh of whiskey as he poured. “One drink,” he added, like it was a command rather than an offer. 

You watched him silently, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. He poured you each a glass, and by the time he turned back to you, there was something sharper in his gaze, something that made your skin prickle. Cassian walked back to where you stood, barely a few paces past the threshold, pressing one of the glasses into your hand without waiting for you to protest. His fingers brushed yours as he handed it over, the contact sending a wave of unease through you. 

He tipped his own glass to his lips, throwing back the whiskey in one smooth motion. His eyes never left yours, daring you, waiting.

You stared down at the amber liquid in your hand, feeling the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. Just one drink. It wasn’t going to change anything. With a quiet breath, you lifted the glass to your lips and took a sip, the sharp burn of the whiskey flooding your senses. 

Cassian’s expression didn’t change as he watched you, the empty glass still in his hand. “Good,” he muttered under his breath, setting his glass down on the kitchen island with a clink that echoed in the stillness. 

Before you could say anything, he stepped closer, closing the small gap between you, his presence overwhelming. The heat from his body made your skin tingle, and when his hand reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your breath hitched. His touch was too familiar, too careful for the tension that buzzed between you. It sent a jolt through you, a reminder of all the nights you’d spent in this very apartment, tangled up with him, and how far away that felt now. 

“Cass, I–” you started, your voice trembling, but he didn’t let you finish. 

He shushed you, and his fingers slid down to your jaw, holding you there as his thumb brushed over your cheek. His lips were so close to yours now, close enough that you could feel his breath puff against your skin. Your heart raced in your chest, your mind screaming at you to pull back, to stop this before it started. 

“Please, Cass, we need to talk,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I–”

“I didn’t bring you here to talk,” he said, his voice low, the words brushing your lips as he spoke. You knew what he wanted, and the sight of his eyes darkening only confirmed it. You tried to push your free hand against his chest, a feeble attempt to put some distance between you.

But he didn’t stop. His mouth crashed against yours, the kiss hard, demanding, and it caught you off guard, sending a shockwave through your body. You gasped against his lips, your hands instinctively pressing against his chest, glass of whiskey and all, trying to push him away. But he was relentless, his hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that made your knees weak. 

“Cassian, don’t,” you managed to get out between breaths, your hands pushing harder against his chest. For a moment, he hesitated, his grip loosening just enough for you to break the kiss and pull back slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. 

“I–” you started again, but the words felt useless now. He was looking at you with such intensity, his chest rising and falling with the same ragged breaths, and for a second, you could see the raw pain behind his anger. He was hurting — just as much as you were, likely more. And in that moment, you realized that talking wasn’t going to fix this. Words wouldn’t heal the damage you’d done. But you would still try, damn it. 

Cassian’s eyes flicked down to your lips, and before you could think, his mouth was on you again. This time, it was slower, deeper, but still full of that same bitterness, that same unresolved anger. His hands moved down your body, gripping your hips as he backed you against the door. Your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, to try to make him talk. But his touch, his toned muscles pressing against you, it all clouded your thoughts until the only thing left was him. 

You could feel his frustration in every movement, in the way his lips pressed harder against yours, in the way his hands gripped you like he was afraid you’d slip away. And maybe that was what this was — a way to hold on to something that had already slipped through his fingers. 

He broke the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath heavy. “Tell me to stop,” he muttered, his voice rough and ragged. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because even though your mind was screaming at you to stop this, to pull back and speak on the situation like adults, your body — your body and heart — they’d already made their decision. 

Instead of answering, you kissed him again, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you pulled him closer. The whiskey glass slipped from your grip, landing with a heavy thud as the amber liquid pooled across the hardwood floor. Surprisingly, the glass hadn’t shattered. He responded immediately, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch sending a rush of heat through you that made your head spin. His fingers gripped your skin, nothing gentle about it. His mouth was on yours again, hard and demanding, and any attempt at control you had slipped further with each frantic kiss. 

His fingers dug back into your hips, and he pulled you toward him. You tried to catch your breath, but Cassian didn’t give you the chance. His hand slipped between your legs, pressing roughly against the front of your jeans, the friction sending a jolt of sensation through your body that made you gasp. 

“Cass–” you started, but the words died on your lips as his fingers worked your button open with a quick, practiced motion. The next thing you knew, his hand was inside, sliding past the fabric of your underwear. His fingers found you immediately, slipping through your wetness with a precision that had your back arching involuntarily. But this wasn’t the way he used to touch you — not with the slow, teasing strokes meant to drive you crazy. This was something else, something far more aggressive. 

“Missed me?” Cassian rasped against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. “Missed this?”

Two of his fingers plunged inside you without warning,  stretching you, moving in fast, unforgiving strokes. You let out a choked gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he fingered you hard, each thrust of his fingers sending shockwaves through you. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was as if he was trying to remind you — this is mine. You were mine. 

“Fuck,” he growled against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, huh? How easy you’d fall right back into it.” His fingers pumped inside you, deeper, harder, each movement making it clear that this was about more than making you feel good. This was something he needed. 

With a whimper, your head fell back against the door, your mind spinning with the sensation, the way his fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot that made your legs tremble. It was so much, so fast. The push and pull between your desire and the way he was handling you was dizzying. His other hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat to his lips.

“Did you think of me while you let them fuck you?” he hissed, voice dripping with venom as his palm pressed roughly against your clit. “Did you miss my fingers when you spread your legs for them?”

You moaned despite yourself, the push and pull of your desire and guilt twisting inside you. He bit down on the tender skin of your neck, his fingers still driving into you with that relentless pace. “Cass, please…” You barely managed to choke the words out, your body reacting to the brutal pace of his fingers even as your mind struggled to keep up. 

“Please what?” he mocked, his voice low and full of heat. “Please, Cassian? Please don’t stop, Cassian? I’m desperate for something to fill my pathetic fucking hole, Cassian? You want more, don’t you?”

Before you could answer, Cassian pulled his hand back abruptly, removing his fingers from you with a sharpness that left you gasping, your legs unsteady. 

“Open your mouth,” he growled, and you did without thinking, instinct taking over. He pressed his fingers down against your tongue, and you almost gagged at the sudden pressure. You tasted yourself on them, sucked them clean, never breaking eye contact. 

“That’s it,” he said, his voice cold as he watched you. “You take it so well.”

He pulled his fingers from your lips and was already moving. His hand gripped the back of your neck, guiding you downward, pushing you to your knees in front of him. You blinked up at him, breathless, the weight of what was happening sinking in. But the look in his eyes, the intensity, the fury… it left you speechless. 

Cassian wasted no time. He tugged at his belt, yanking his pants down just enough to free himself. “Take that shit off,” he muttered, nodding toward your shirt and bra. “You wanna make it up to me, right?” he said, his voice rough. “Go ahead. Show me. Let me feel how sorry you are.”

Before you could brace yourself, his hand was in your hair, and he was guiding his cock past your lips. He was thick and hard, and the taste of him was almost sweet as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, his hips jerking forward with a force that made your eyes water. 

“Take it,” he growled, holding you in place as he thrust into your mouth, the motion brutal. “Of course you’d take it so easily, so sweetly. Look at you. Look at those perfect fucking tits.”

You tried to adjust to the sensation, to put on a show for him as you played with your breasts, massaging and pinching and squeezing. His hand tightened in your hair, holding your head still as he fucked your mouth with a punishing rhythm. His breathing grew heavier, each thrust more forceful than the last.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tipping back slightly as he buried himself deeper, the sound of your gagging making his cock twitch against your throat. “You’ve always been so fucking good at this, goddamn.” His hips kept moving, faster, harder, his grip unrelenting as he used you.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your jaw aching as he pushed you to the limit, fucking your face like it was the only thing that mattered. And maybe right now, it was. You could feel the anger still simmering beneath the surface, the way his need for control dominated every movement. And even though you knew this wasn’t how tonight should have gone, the heat building in your gut betrayed you. 

Finally, with one last thrust, he pulled back, his breathing heavy and labored as he looked down at you. You gasped for air, wiping at your mouth, your body trembling. Without a word, Cassian lifted you to your feet, his hands rough and commanding. He pushed you toward the couch, and you landed with a quiet “oomph,” your body barely having time to register what was happening before his hands were on you again. 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured as he pulled your jeans and underwear down with quick, rough motions, leaving your heat bare and exposed to him. You could hear him behind you, kicking his own jeans off, and feel the heat of his body as he lined himself up. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind reeling with the intensity of it all. “Tell me you don’t need this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to say anything, but all that came out was a shaky gasp as he slammed himself into you, filling you in one hard thrust. You cried out, your hands scrambling to brace yourself against the back of the couch as he started moving immediately, his pace brutal and unforgiving.

“That’s right,” he snarled, his grip on your hips bruising as he thrust into you with a force that made your legs shake. “You take it so well. Just like always.” There was nothing soft about it, each thrust slammed you into the couch, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as Cassian fucked you harder, faster, the anger pouring out of him in every movement.  This wasn’t love or tenderness. This was raw, angry, and so intense it left you gasping for air.

“Did any of them fuck you like this? Did Eris fuck you like this?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned over you, his hips never slowing. “Did you take him as sweetly as you’re taking me? Were you this pretty for him, this complacent?”

“Cass, please…” you cried out. Was that all you could think to say to him?

“Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he bit out, his fingers digging into your skin. “I know you. You’re mine. You always have been, and you always will be.”

His words cut through you, the intensity, the fury in his voice mixing with the pleasure that had your body on the edge of unraveling. And despite everything, despite the pain, the anger, the confusion — you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, the way the pleasure kept building, threatening to spill over.

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?” he muttered, still fucking into you with no sign of slowing down. “Of course you are. You can’t help yourself. Not with me. You never could.”

His grip tightened, his movements steady as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You couldn’t help but chase that high, pushing your hips back against his, responding to every brutal thrust, every mocking word. 

“Come for me,” he growled. “Come on.”

And with that, your body shattered, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as you came, your mind going blank, your legs shaking beneath you. Cassian yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground, but he never slowed his pace, and his cock was still buried deep inside you. He didn’t stop. If anything, the pace he set before only grew more intense at the feel of your muscles contracting around him. The pressure of his hips slamming into yours, the harsh grip of his hands, it was all too much, and yet… not enough.

“You think I’m done with you?” His voice was a low, dark rumble against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

Before you could protest, he leaned his body over yours and snaked his arm to your front, finding your clit with practiced precision. You gasped, your body jerking in response, your oversensitive nerves already on the edge of snapping again. He wasn’t giving you a chance to recover, wasn’t letting you escape the relentless pace he set. 

“Did Rhysand fuck you like this?” he snarled, his fingers circling your clit faster now, drawing another moan from deep within you. “Did he make you scream? Bet he didn’t make you come this hard, did he?”

You tried to shake your head, tried to speak, but Cassian clamped a hand over your mouth, straightening up as he used his grip to drive you back onto his cock again and again. Each thrust hit that spot deep inside you, leaving you dizzy and breathless. You could barely think, let alone find the words. 

“No answer?” he mocked, his voice rough and dripping with arrogance. “Figures. I bet you happily spread your legs for him, just hoping he’d fuck you half as good as I do.”

You whimpered, your legs trembling beneath you as the pleasure built again, unable to do anything but take the fucking he gave you. His fingers pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in tight circles as he thrust into you with bruising force. You knew you’d be unbelievably sore in the morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you felt yourself spiraling, hurtling toward release once more, and there was nothing to be done to stop it. 

“You’re going to come again, aren’t you? Y’know how I can tell?” he muttered darkly, leaning in closer. “I know your pussy. I know when it feels good, I know when it wants to be stuffed full of cock. I know when it wants to come just by how it squeezes my fucking dick.”

You cried out, the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you, his fingers merciless on your clit, pushing you closer and closer. His hand over your mouth did next to nothing to muffle the depraved sounds escaping you. 

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” he grunted. “I want you to come for me. I want you to scream my name while you come on my cock.”

And you did. He moved his hand just as your orgasm ripped through you, his name spilling from your lips again and again. Every muscle in your body went taut, the intensity making you convulse. You would have collapsed if he weren’t holding you so tightly, his grip bruising, keeping you upright as he rode you through your second orgasm.

But he still wasn’t done.

He pulled out of you abruptly, leaving you feeling empty and aching despite having finished twice. You blush, embarrassed at the thought. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he spun you around, his eyes dark and wild with hunger as he looked down at you. “Get on your knees.”

You clambered off the couch and dropped to your knees for him again, your body and mind too overwhelmed to do anything but obey. Cassian stood over you, his chest heaving, his cock still rock-hard and slick with your arousal. He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back as he shoved himself back into your mouth. 

“Did Azriel fuck your throat like this?” he demanded, thrusting into your mouth with a brutal rhythm that had you gagging, tears streaming down your cheeks this time. “Did he make you choke on it? Bet he didn’t. Bet you let him take you nice and slow.”

You thought back to that day, to how Azriel had asked you if Cassian was too gentle while he fucked you stupid. But you couldn’t think about it for very long. Cassian slapped your cheek just a little harder than necessary, his cock still down your throat. “No one makes you choke like I do, huh?” he groaned, his cock twitching against your throat. “Not Tarquin, not Helion, and definitely not fucking Eris.”

He pulled out then, leaving you coughing and gasping for air as he turned you around and shoved you to the ground. “This is what you need,” he panted, driving into you with unmatched force, your cheek brushing against the plush area rug. “I bet Helion and Tarquin didn’t give it to you like this.” He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, “Did Helion make you beg for it? Did Tarquin fuck you hard enough to make you scream like this?”

You moaned, the pleasure building up again, your body responding to every brutal thrust, every filthy word that left his lips. 

“Of course not,” Cassian sneered. “He couldn’t. None of them can. Not. Like. Me.” He punctuated the words with particularly deep thrusts that had you trying to pull your hips away from him. A fruitless effort, his hands yanking you back with a laugh. 

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing in tight, small circles that had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking for a third time. You were shaking, face against the rug, unable to hold yourself up anymore. 

“Come again,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “I’m not stopping until you do, so fucking hurry up.”

You felt yourself unraveling, the pleasure too intense, too overwhelming. His name tumbled from your lips again, followed by an incoherent string of curses as you teetered on the edge. 

“That’s it,” he growled, his grip on you tightening as his rhythm finally began to falter. “Come for me. Let me hear you scream.”

And scream you did. The pleasure ripped through you, your body shuddering violently as you came again, your vision going white, your mind completely blank. Cassian followed soon after, his own release tearing through him as he groaned, spilling inside you with one final, brutal thrust. 

“Tell me,” he whispered roughly as he pulled out of you, turning you onto your back so he could look down at you. “Tell me if Eris made you come like that. Did he fuck you like I just did?”

You shook your head weakly, your body too spent to do anything but breathe, your legs still shaking from the intensity of it all. 

Cassian stood up, already pulling on his boxer briefs and jeans with calm efficiency, as if nothing had happened. You lay there for a moment, trembling, your mind still foggy. Slowly, you fumbled for your clothes, pulling them back on in silence, your body aching and spent. 

As you zipped up your jeans, still breathless and shaken, you looked over at him. He was slipping his shirt back on, the casualness of his movements making your stomach twist. 

“Cass… what are you doing?” you asked, your voice shaky, confused. “I thought we–”

He cut you off coldly. “I told you,” he said, pulling his shirt down over himself. “I didn’t ask you to come over here to talk. I’m heading out, but you can stay here tonight.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in, making your heart clench. Your hands trembled as you adjusted your shirt, a gnawing dread already settling deep in your gut. 

Cassian zipped up his jeans, then leaned down, his voice soft but biting. “No one will ever fuck you the way I do,” he said, voice full of an almost cruel satisfaction. “You’ll spend the rest of your life chasing this. Chasing me.” 

As you straightened up, zipping your own jeans, Cassian continued. “No one else will ever be enough,” he said, “and you’ll have to live with that.”

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you adjusted your shirt. When you looked up, you saw him halfway to the door, fully dressed now. But he turned back, a glint of cruel amusement in his eyes. “Oh,” he added casually, like an afterthought. Like his next words wouldn’t hit you like a punch to the gut, like a knife twisted deep into your chest. “You’ll also have to live with knowing that you sucked me off after I fucked Elain raw. Right here. On this couch. She left right before you got here.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@blessthepizzaman @book-obsessed124 @celear @girl-math-aint-mathing @halo-hanging

@julesvanslutta @lilah-asteria @meeperthejeeper @mellowmusings @paleidiot

@secretlyhers @starlightazriel @scarsandallaz @uncxmfxrtablex @xxemmarldxx

[junimatcha]

things i love about u ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

eren x reader

The rain tapped softly against the windows, filling the small apartment with a peaceful rhythm. The world outside was drenched in the gentle drizzle of a late evening, but inside, it was warm and quiet. You and Eren made sure to have days like these, where you could be lazy with him.

Eren lay stretched out on the couch, one arm around you, pulling you closer under the heavy blanket that draped over both of you. The dim light of a nearby lamp cast a soft glow over the room, painting everything in muted shades of amber.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His warmth seeped into you, wrapping you in a sense of calm that felt almost too perfect. The rain, his heartbeat, the occasional deep breath he took—it all blended together in a soothing harmony.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to. This moment was enough—just the two of you, lying together as the rest of the world faded into the background.

But tonight, there was something different about Eren. He was not usually this quiet, he seemed like he was lost in thought. You could feel it in the way his fingers brushed absentmindedly through your hair, the way his hand lingered on your back as though he didn’t want to let go.

After a long stretch of silence, his voice finally broke through the soft hum of the rain.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

The question was quiet, almost hesitant, as though he was unsure of how the words would land. You looked up at him, slightly surprised but smiling. Eren wasn’t one to talk about his feelings openly. Most of the time, he showed them in small gestures—in the way he’d pull you closer in his sleep or the way he’d make sure to walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

But now, his green eyes were focused on you, his expression softer than you’d seen it in a long time.

“Someone is feeling sappy tonight” you teased lightly, as you nudged him gently with your elbow.

His lips twitched into a faint smile, but the seriousness in his gaze didn’t waver. He held you tighter, as if trying to find the right words. And then, he started to speak again, his voice deep but laced with a tenderness that tugged at your heart.

“I love the way you laugh,” he began. “Even when you’re trying to hide it, like when you’re nervous or embarrassed. It always makes me want to laugh too.”

You blinked, taken off guard by the sudden confession. He wasn’t done though.

“I love how you listen to me. Even when I’m not saying much. You just… you get me. You know when I need to talk and when I don’t.”

You had always felt that Eren found it hard to open up, and you’d never pushed him. But hearing this now, hearing him tell you how much he valued your quiet understanding, made your chest tighten with emotion.

“And I love how you remind me it’s okay to take a break,” he continued, his fingers lightly tracing patterns along your arm. “Even when I feel like I can’t stop. You know exactly when to pull me back before I push myself too far.”

His voice was soft, barely more than a whisper now, and you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. This was the side of Eren that very few people ever saw—the side that was raw and open, the side that didn’t always have the answers or the strength.

“And most of all,” he said, his voice faltering for a moment before he regained control, “I love how you make everything better, even when I didn’t know something was wrong. Just… you being here, with me… makes everything make sense.”

A lump formed in your throat as you listened to him pour out his heart, each word wrapping around you like a blanket of warmth. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you couldn’t stop the small, shaky breath that escaped you.

You reached up, cupping his cheek gently as you gazed at him, your eyes reflecting the emotions he’d stirred within you. “Eren…” you whispered, your voice trembling with all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for.

His hand came up to cover yours, his grip firm yet tender. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closing for a brief moment. “I’m not good at saying this kind of stuff,” he admitted with a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “But I need you to know… you’re everything to me. I don’t say it enough, but I love you. More than anything.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but they weren’t from sadness—they were from the overwhelming rush of love you felt for him.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you spoke. “With all my heart, Eren.”

He shifted slightly, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping securely around you as though he never wanted to let go. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a long moment as he breathed in your scent.

“I’m scared sometimes,” he confessed quietly, his breath warm against your hair. “Scared of losing you. Scared of the future. But when I’m with you… it doesn’t seem so scary. I know we’ll be okay.”

You closed your eyes, nuzzling into his chest as you held onto him tightly. “We will,” you promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Another silence fell between you, but this one was filled with a quiet understanding, a mutual trust that didn’t need words to be felt. The rain continued to fall outside, soft and steady, as the two of you lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Before you drifted off to sleep, you heard Eren’s voice one last time, a soft whisper against your hair.

“I’ll never stop loving you. Not even for a second.”

And with that, you both let the world fade away, content in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

[adimouze]

For u oomfie hand in rotten hand (it keeps growing I want more soft maxiel I will write it for all our needs)

--

He doesn't take the jet there. He thought about it. Doesn't want people - his people even, to know. To think they can stop him. He doesn't even text Daniel.

They talked before his flight, although Daniel doesn't know Max was leaving. Was landing. Max remembers saying something about sim work, words about the race half swallowed in embarrassment, in excitement. He remembers the soft smile - indulgent even, that Daniel kept throughout. You’ll win, he said and Max doesn't want to correct him.

He would. Could have. Still can – but Max does not want to. Or rather, he thinks – he wants, for himself, for the first time.

He wonders if Daniel has found peace now. Does it have Max’s name on it? Does it make a place for him? Max rubs sweaty palms into his jeans. Refuses the offer from the stewardess to have more to drink. Screws the cap on further against his brow just in case someone recognises him even when they boarded at 2am.

The gin doesn't taste as nice as in his own jet. He sweats more. Sleeps through a guy snoring even with the space between them in first class. He sleeps an hour, two. There are eighteen more to go.

Max watches the plane travel across the world on the screen instead. His heart doesn't stutter when it glances near Abu Dhabi. It flutters when they cross Hong Kong, aches as they cross the ocean and the Australian coast appears in the corner like the DVD logo of Max's childhood.

Words spill behind his tongue. Daniel’s name too. He rehearses what he wants to say. Mimes the words as the figure plane follows the dotted line. It doesn't get easier.

He turns airplane mode off when they land. It blows up with notifications. GP, Rupert – Christian emailed a schedule. He starts the sim session tomorrow. Today, in fact.

Max may already be late. He scrolls past them. Marks them muted. Crosses into Australian land and hot tarmac. It doesn't quite smell like the Melbourne track.

Daniel sent him memes in the last few hours. Before he started feeding the animals. Max has learnt and memorised their names. Even Maximilian the calf. It still makes Daniel snort when he says it - says the baby cow stares at him as much as Max does. Hence the name, Maxy.

Asks Max ten times if he gets the joke - Max, Max Emilian, Maximilian. Max nods, laughs anyway, as it makes Daniel laugh harder. Tells him his joke is silly, and Daniel replies he spent an hour thinking of the name thank you Max. Rambles about how he thought about it as baby cow not Max was being licked by his mother, calf hair sticking up everywhere just like my Max after a race.

Daniel doesn’t say anything when Max chokes on his water, when he breathes too loud. Chokes on Daniel’s name. Tries to find a joke about his hair and the baby calf. Doesn’t come up with one. Daniel smiles, pleased thing Max screenshots with clumsy fingers. It’s blurry. Max sets it as Daniel’s profile picture everywhere. Sends it to Victoria unprompted and gets a heart and a thumbs up from her.

Sends it to team redline. Mutes Luke’s dms for an hour or two after.

Max thinks he stares morethan Maximillian the baby calf anyway. Loves Daniel more than the baby cow. Wants the way Daniel smiles softly at it, the cooing in his voice making Max’s stomach tighten with need. The baby cow doesn't realise how lucky it is, to get Daniel’s affection so freely. Max will be there soon.

Max wants to beg Daniel to give it to him too.

Two more memes. He likes them all, even if Lando sent them to him two weeks ago, when they first appeared on TikTok. It’s cute. Max can't wait to watch them and hear Daniel laugh as he does so - always.

Daniel also keeps sending this guy - burly, hairy - working on a farm. Max always gnaws at his lips so he doesn't ask Daniel if he would like Max that way. Would Daniel be ok if Max burns under the sun instead, that his hair is blonde everywhere and will not be as dark as the TikTok man’s. He can get burly, he thinks — but Daniel will need to let him race with the team online, in exchange.

He knows there is a spare room, in Daniel's farmhouse. Max thinks he can fix his set up there. Can buy a new one. He already knows the ridiculous shipping fees, and has it on back order anyway. Can get Daniel to play with him maybe. He knows Daniel will say yes. Even if Daniel sucks at FIFA. Max tells him whenever he can.

--

My oomfie here writes the best fics btw!!!! This healed me!!!!!

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

8. New year, new man(ager)

Note: genuinely appreciate everyone who enjoyed Arc 1. Hope y’all will enjoy this incoming Arc 2 as well!

Y/n paced outside the practice room, glancing at his phone as he triple-checked the schedule for the day. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind after MAMA, but somewhere along the line, things had started to fall into place. He wasn’t the same flustered manager he had been when he first joined aespa’s team. He’d made enough mistakes to last a lifetime, but he had learned. And today, he was ready to prove it.

“Alright, time to give the pep talk,” he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders back.

Inside, the girls were warming up, Karina and Giselle going over a particularly tricky move while Winter stretched near the mirrors. Ningning was being her usual energetic self, bouncing around between them.

“Okay, everyone! Time to focus up,” Y/n said, clapping his hands together as he walked in. The room fell into a mix of mock groans and smirks.

“You sound so official now,” Giselle teased, giving him a playful nudge as she passed. “Who are you, and what did you do with the Y/n who booked us in the wrong studio that one time?”

Y/n grinned, shaking his head. “He’s still here. Just... learning from his mistakes.”

Karina crossed her arms, watching him closely. There was something unreadable in her expression—like she was analysing him, comparing the person in front of her to the frazzled trainee-turned-manager she first met.

“Alright, before you all get back to dancing, I just want to say…” He hesitated, clearing his throat. “You’ve all been working really hard last year, and I see it. Even when things get tough, you push through, and it shows. Just remember, it’s not about being perfect—it’s about giving it your all. So let’s hit this practice hard, but don’t forget to have fun. Let’s end the year strong, lads!”

The girls exchanged glances before Winter, grinning, gave him a thumbs-up. “Look at you, giving motivational speeches now.”

“I’m impressed,” Karina added, finally speaking up. Her tone was thoughtful, not teasing. “You’ve come a long way.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thanks, J” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m just trying to keep up with you guys.”

Karina stepped closer, lowering her voice so only Y/n could hear. “It’s more than that. You’ve grown into the role. Leadership doesn’t come easy, but you’ve figured out how to handle things, even when it’s chaotic. That’s what makes a difference.”

There was a sincerity in her words that Y/n hadn’t expected. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, realizing that maybe he wasn’t as lost as he had once thought.

“Thanks, Jimin. That means a lot coming from you,” he said, feeling the tension that had lingered between them start to ease.

Before he could dwell on the moment, Giselle’s voice rang out. “Look at you two, having a heart-to-heart! I give Y/n… hmm, about half-professional status now. What do you think, Ning?”

Ningning, grinning widely, chimed in. “Three-quarters. He still hasn’t learned the choreography.”

Y/n groaned, throwing his hands up. “Oh shut it. I’m not trying to learn the choreography! I’m just your manager!”

They all laughed, the teasing familiar and light-hearted. As practice kicked into gear, Y/n watched from the side, feeling more comfortable in his role than he ever had before.

-

In the midst of the busy practice schedule, Y/n had noticed something peculiar: the other managers who Y/n met and befriended seemed to be acting a little more attentive and excited than usual. During a quick break, he caught snippets of conversation from them.

“Did you get the wrapping paper?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. And the card?”

“Just make sure Y/n doesn’t see us.”

Curious and slightly amused, Y/n decided to investigate. He wandered into the break room, where the other managers were gathered, each one busily working on something. The moment they saw him, they froze, their faces betraying a mix of guilt and excitement.

“Uh, what’s going on here?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow.

Before anyone could respond, Red Velvet's managers, Minji, cleared her throat. “Oh, Y/n! Perfect timing. We were just... preparing a little something for you and Winter.”

Y/n looked around, noticing the wrapped gifts and a small banner that read “Happy Birthday Y/n & Winter!” The sight made him pause.

“We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Minji continued, her tone earnest. “But we couldn’t let your birthday go unnoticed, especially since you’re new yet so integral to the team now.”

“Yeah, and we figured it’d be a good way to show our appreciation,” added EXO's manager, Joon.

Y/n chuckled, touched by the gesture. “Awww thanks, guys. I had no idea you were planning this.”

As they chatted, Winter appeared, drawn by the noise. Her eyes widened as she saw the decorations and the pile of presents.

“What’s all this?” Winter asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

The managers exchanged knowing glances before Minji spoke up again. “Well we found out that both of you shared a birthday, so…."

Winter’s eyes widened even further. “Aw, that's nice of you guys. Thank you for caring about this idiot here.”

"Huh? You guys share the same birthday? Ningning popped by with Giselle and Karina, now seeing the commotion.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Minji confirmed with a grin. “So, we thought it’d be fun to celebrate together.”

Winter laughed, clearly delighted. “That’s amazing. I had no idea you all were so organized.”

“Well, we try,” Joon said with a wink. “And we thought it’d be a great surprise, considering how hard you both work.”

The other managers handed Y/n and Winter their gifts with cheerful smiles. “Hope you like them,” Joon said as they both took their presents.

Y/n and Winter exchanged amused glances before unwrapping their gifts. It turned out to be an assortment of practical and fun items—a mix of things they both appreciated. Winter found a beautifully designed journal, while Y/n received a high-quality travel mug with the graphic "Most Improving Baby".

“This is really thoughtful, guys,” Y/n said, genuinely touched. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, it’s the least we could do,” Winter added, smiling warmly at the managers. “We’re really grateful.”

Unbeknownst to the two soon-to-be Birthday babies, the other three adorned a mischievous grin.

-

The last few days of December flew by in a blur of rehearsals, interviews, and last-minute preparations for the new year’s celebrations. Y/n barely had time to think about his upcoming birthday—shared with Winter, no less—before the big day arrived.

The plan was simple: get Y/n and Winter to believe it was just another ordinary day while secretly setting up a surprise party at the dorm. Giselle had somehow convinced Winter that Y/n needed help with something, giving the rest of the group time to set everything up.

Y/n, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on. He spent the day like any other, running around managing their schedules, completely oblivious to the plot happening right under his nose.

At the dorm, balloons were being inflated, streamers were hung, and a cake—decorated with both Winter and Y/n's names—sat proudly on the kitchen counter. It was a perfect setup.

That was until Y/n, ever the punctual manager, arrived a little earlier than expected.

The door to the dorm swung open, and he walked in, tossing his bag on the couch. "Hey, you guys here? I thought we had that—"

He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as he took in the half-decorated room. Karina was holding a balloon, frozen in place. Ningning was mid-streamer hanging, while Giselle had the cake knife in hand, looking like she’d just been caught robbing a bank.

They all stared at each other for a moment, time seemingly frozen.

“What the fu-” Y/n started.

"Abort mission!" Ningning yelled, throwing her hands in the air, and everyone scrambled to act like nothing was happening.

Karina hastily dropped the balloon and leaned casually against the wall. "Oh, Y/n, didn’t see you there. What’s up?"

Giselle, trying to shove the cake back into the fridge, smiled innocently. "Yeah, just, uh... normal day stuff."

Y/n blinked, looking around at the half-decorated chaos. "Suuure, normal day. Now tell me what exactly is going on here?"

Before anyone could make up an excuse, the door swung open again, and Winter appeared, looking confused. "What are you guys doing?"

Giselle groaned dramatically. "Well, there goes the plan."

Realizing the jig was up, Karina sighed and waved a hand. "Surprise, I guess?"

Y/n, despite being completely caught off guard, burst into laughter. "Wait, were you guys actually trying to throw a surprise party for us?"

"Yep," Ningning said, a little deflated. "But you had to show up early and ruin it."

“Yeah, screw you! Jung Y/n!” Karina pouted.

Winter, standing beside Y/n, grinned. "I guess it wouldn’t be our birthdays without some messes."

Despite the botched timing, the room quickly filled with laughter as everyone relaxed, the failed surprise only adding to the fun. Y/n and Winter shared a look before shaking their heads in unison.

Later, as the cake was brought out, the girls sang a loud, slightly off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

Just as Y/n and Winter blew out the candles, Giselle and Ningning smirked at each other.

“We got you guys some special presents,” Giselle said with a mischievous glint in her eye. She pulled out two neatly wrapped boxes, handing one to Y/n and the other to Winter.

“Special?” Y/n raised an eyebrow as he took the box. “What kind of special?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Ningning said, barely holding in her laughter.

Winter, just as curious, began unwrapping her gift first. The second she opened the box, her eyes widened, and her face turned red as she pulled out a pair of fluffy, pink handcuffs.

“What the—” Winter started, but her voice was drowned out by the chorus of laughter from the other members.

Y/n, now dreading his own gift, slowly unwrapped his box. Inside, he found his own pair of handcuffs, except his were black and decorated with little hearts.

The girls erupted in laughter. Blackpink was truly in the area.

“I—what even is this?!” Y/n held the cuffs up, utterly flustered.

“Oh, come on, you guys have been living together now,” Giselle teased, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “We thought these might come in handy in case you two planned to be-”

"NOOOOOOO!" Winter looked mortified, covering her face with her hands. “You guys are the worst.”

Karina, trying to maintain a serious expression but failing miserably, added, “We figured it’d break the tension.”

Y/n shook his head, laughing despite himself. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Ningning, still in hysterics, managed to choke out, “You should’ve seen your faces!”

The room dissolved into laughter once more, the ridiculousness of the situation bringing everyone together. Even Winter, after recovering from her embarrassment, couldn’t help but join in.

As the laughter died down and they settled in to enjoy the cake, Y/n stood up and cleared his throat. “Well, since it’s both of our birthdays, I have something for you, too,” he said, handing Winter a small box.

Winter blinked, surprised. “You got me something? Is it a choker this time?”

"Minjeong, what th-" Y/n laughed out. "Stop being dirty-minded and open it, crybaby."

Winter carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a simple yet elegant bracelet engraved with both their names. Her eyes softened, and she smiled. “Y/n, this is beautiful. Thank you.”

Y/n shrugged. “Figured we might as well embrace the fact that we share the same birthday. Continue the tradition since old days.”

Winter, her smile warm and genuine, reached into her bag and pulled out a small package. “Well, I got something for you, too.”

Y/n opened it to find a sleek, custom-made pen engraved with his initials. He chuckled. “You know, after all this time, I was expecting something like more handcuffs.”

Winter rolled her eyes playfully. “I did say a choker. But please don’t give them any more ideas.”

As the night went on, the room was filled with laughter, teasing, and warmth. It was a night of unexpected gifts, hilarious moments, and heartwarming memories—one that Y/n and Winter wouldn’t soon forget.