#how do i talk about it without sounding like an absolute fool

[lymericslimerick]

𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 | LADS + their Instagram profiles and music tastes

warnings: none, just headcanons. I wrote this to get my caleb big brother rock agenda going can you tell, I do not own any of the pictures used for the instagram part

ৎ──── xavier

Xavier posts like a typical young adult, its either his face or the obscene amount of hotpot he consumes within a week (his stories are basically a Haidilao highlight reel) Whenever he posts selfies or his figure, you get the distinct feeling that he’s doing it specifically for one person. Like he’s advertising himself and waiting for one specific person to take a hint. Maybe that’s why whenever you comment he immediately replies and pins it to the top of his posts, but who knows? he’s such a good friend. His music taste: Jay Chou, Mayday, Fool and Idiot Xavier likes it slow. He likes his serenades, songs that he can learn on the piano and put in the background as he reads a book series he can only talk to with grandmas and grandpas at his local park. Speaking of old, chances are if an artist was famous among the general Linkon public in the early turn of the century, Xavier likes them. He’s always posting lyrics on his stories of lines he feels are especially succinct, that put into words what he can only dream of telling to a certain miss hunter that continues liking his posts with the obliviousness of a newborn baby. Oddly enough, he hates classical music arrangements. Anything that sounds regal really, it makes him stiffen up and his eyes grow cold and hard. The phantom weight of a crown on his head is especially heavy during these times.

ৎ──── zayne

Work. Most of Zayne’s whole life can be summarised in that one phrase (of course, his life doesn’t include his soul, which is firmly in the hands of his favourite patient). His instagram exists out of necessity, a plea by people for a way to keep up with what their lecturer and head of department was doing and a way for him to announce his participation in certain seminars. However, once in a while he posts a picture of a cafe with a cheeky peace sign peeking out from the top, or that one time he posted 37 stories, all of which were reposting various different news articles talking about a certain miss hunter’s award. His music taste: The Cure, whatever you like Zayne’s been through a character arc recently, moving away from the almost nonexistent quiet instrumental music that used to fill his silence to leaping into new genres with the confidence of a hesitant cat, if only to have one thing to bond with you about. Recently, he’s taken to The Cure. Something about how direct and flowery the words crooned by Robert Smith speak to him, lyrics that best capture how absolutely enamoured he is with you without having to say it out loud.

ৎ──── rafayel

Shameless. with a capital S. Anyone who has found is instagram account walks away with the unanimous conclusion that ‘Oh yeah, he’s madly in love with this m1sshunter lady’. He doesn’t post his paintings or his selfies, why would he? especially not to the public, those are Y.E.O (your eyes only) status. Instead he takes it upon himself to bless everyone else’s instagram feeds with pictures of you at the beach, always captioning it some form of heart emoji just to hammer home that yes, he is in fact madly in love with used m1sshunter. Only people he even bats an eye at replying to (other than you) are Thomas, either with a single word or a single emoji, or Thalia, because she’s famous and his auntie and will blackmail him if he doesn’t reply. His music taste: Orchestras, Classical music, his own singing Rafayel is the pinnacle of art, an amalgam of all of the old world greats of art into one purple haired lemurian man. He regards any other genre with a distinct air of condescension, his nature as an opera singer making him wince at every off note and groan at every conventional musical arrangement. He prefers a classic touch, if it isn’t him serenading you both in his room as you both look out at the sea. He nods like an approving dad at some orchestras, and even claps at some operas. But you know, when you hear him sing a lonely duet in the dark of night while he paints a memory of his fallen kingdom, he’s heard way better.

ৎ──── sylus

Why would the leader of Onychinus, the biggest big shot in the N109 zone, have a public instagram account? Do you think he was born yesterday? He would say to you with a scoff, before immediately turning around and making a private account just so he can try and post like you do. His posts feel like imitations of yours, showing Sylus’s absolute lack of any ‘normal’ friends outside of people who have tried to kill him and the love of his life. His captions, though? Other couples would blush at how blatant and romantic they are. Every post of himself has him wondering if you like how he looks, and every post of you tells you how much he likes how you look. The comments? a glorified group chat of you, him, Luke and Kieran. Whole plans get made in them. His music taste: The Beatles, Mariah Carey, anything with an organ Sylus has his work cut out for him. Here he is, a dragon that can appreciate the arts, loving the organ and anything sung by you. But, he loves to sing. Loves it so much he completely forgets he’s the only person that loves his singing as much as he does. He picks any moody and hard song he can sing to, just so he can get on the couch and sing it straight into your endeared eyes. That’s why Sylus has a large collection of 70’s rock vinyls and also Mariah Carey. And why there's a very well loved karaoke set right next to it.

ৎ──── caleb

Caleb’s original instagram account was memorialised. He laughed at it for a good minute before looking at your face and shutting up instantly. He never really cared about that account anyway, not even wanting to create one but doing so as soon as you did back in high school. He tells you as much, and also adds that if he made one now he’d make people think reincarnation was real. So you dropped it. Caleb doesn’t have social media, he’s an off the grid guy whose arms will occasionally make appearances on your feed. But Caleb is also a liar. He does have an account, dedicated solely to documenting his thoughts on his life, his body, and you. You, you, you. Every other post is about you, talking about how much he misses you, how much he wants to see you, how much he needs you. You’ll never see it though, he’s Caleb, chronically offline. His music taste: Flyleaf, Simple Plan, Dance Gavin Dance Caleb was one of those kids. The kids who’d have a Simple Plan poster in their room and wore double layered t-shirts because he’d be more street if he did. Of course, it’s Caleb. He makes anything look cool, and his peers knew it. Caleb started listening to Three Days Grace, suddenly everyone was their biggest fan. He feels a deep kinship with the more out there and.. concerning lyrics in the songs. He tells people he thinks A Love Like War is a really romantic song, and everyone looks at the lyrics and realises ‘Oh, he’s not right in the head.’ No matter, the only person whose opinions matter is you, after all. And you think he’s cool.

[moon-my-beloved]

neighbors (tf141 x fem! reader)

part I: first impressions

tw: mentions of crappy parents, angst, and reader being absolutely terrible at socializing. that’s all babes - xoxo

you really weren’t sure why you were so.. anxious.

ever since encountering your (undeniably ethereal) neighbors arrive, you became a little more self-conscious when getting out of the house. that same day, you had carefully and quietly made your way towards auntie lotties house once you were in the clear that the men would not be coming outside any time soon.

“oh dear! what’s got you in such a hurry, luv?” auntie lottie had said in shock, letting you into the comfort of her home and ushering you to sit down while she got you a glass of water.

“i think I’ve just made a fool of myself,” you said in dejection, telling her of the shit show you just did upon meeting your neighbors. a hearty chuckle making itself known once the older woman came back with the glass of water she had promised.

“don’t be silly, they probably didn’t even see you! besides, you will eventually talk to them sooner or later.”

you didn’t even want to think about the possibility of bumping into them any time soon. what would you even say? ‘hey I’m your neighbor from across the street. sorry you caught me peeping at you all like some fucking creep.”

in hopes of just keeping your mind off of the men that have been haunting your thoughts, you asked auntie lottie if she had any new ideas for her next recipe in which you were grateful for when the woman spent most of your stay ranting about a new sponge cake recipe she had seen.

you spent most of your evening with auntie lottie and the sun had already set down by the time you bid your goodbyes to her. the crisp, fresh air blowing on your skin making you sigh in containment as you make your way back home. the sky was clear today, lifting your head up just enough to see how the stars twinkle against the night sky and how the moon cascaded a small glow over the land with how bright it looked. you don’t realize you’ve already arrived to your destination before another rush of cold air snaps you out of your haze.

living by yourself feels great, there’s no questioning that. but you can’t help at times feel that daunting feeling of loneliness claw its way to your mind and make your heart ache in wanting to at least come back home to someone. that desire to be wanted.

your family was a lost cause. practically forgetting all about you once you turned eighteen and went to college. no text messages or phone calls were ever heard from them throughout all those years. small christmas cards being sent here and there that read, “we hope you’re doing well. - mom and dad. friends? they were all living their own lives. building themselves an actual family with their soon-to-be husbands or wife’s. some of them already having kids of their own. you were too scared, too aware of yourself to taint them with any unwanted things. you were never good with people.

god you sound pathetic.

shaking your head a bit, you make your way up the small steps and take out your keys, daring to take a small glance at the house across from you. your eyes catch a small light coming from one of the windows, the silhouette of people walking by visible even though the curtain.

you wonder what they did for work. lottie hadn’t mentioned anything of what they do. from the looks of it, it’s definitely something that keeps them away from home for long periods of time.

your brainstorming is cut off short, eyes widening a bit when someone from the other side of the window suddenly stops in front of it. without a second to waste, you hurriedly make your way inside. your heart pounding out of your chest as you lean your back against the door.

fucking hell.

you had been avoiding them like the plague. successfully staying away from any unwanted attention even when you sometimes caught glimpses of chocolate eyes and mohawk taking their morning run while getting ready for work. ignoring the way your face burned up in shame.

or even at times when you would see skull face reading a book with mutton chops. tea on their sides as they enjoyed the sound of birds chirping and wind chimes bumping against each other with every gust of wind.

they all looked so.. content. and for some reason you just knew they were a family. one with each other with the way they maneuvered themselves with one another. so natural.

nevertheless, you were doing a great job… until you weren’t.

you had been getting off your shift when you decided it was a good idea to do a small grocery run. with the holidays coming and the weather becoming increasingly colder by the days, you needed to stock up before there was nothing left.

so here you were. a coat over your shoulders, still in your work clothes and heels digging into your feet uncomfortably. pushing a cart and checking off items from your list as you went.

stores were busy during this time of year. christmas songs were played through the speakers along with decorations filling every corner of the store. kids bustling around their parents in excitement with every toy they pointed out to.

by the time you were done checking off the last item from your list, you were exhausted.

“maybe a small treat would be nice..” you mutter to yourself, making your way to the snack aisle and barely making it past the corner before a scottish accent calls out your name.

you pause abruptly, turning your head to the sound as your eyes widened in utter shock when realization dawns at you.

two of your neighbors were standing there, just a few feet from you. mohawk giving you a wolfish grin while waving a teasing hand at you. the other man sending an apologetic smile your way for his friends behavior. god he was so much prettier up close.

“that’s ye right?” only being able to nod as his large body makes its way towards your direction. ocean eyes pinning you down in place with the way they roam around you, analyzing you. he wore a leather jacket, white shirt underneath that did nothing but enhance the way his chest stretched over the material. he wore a nice pair of jeans, topping of his outfit with a pair of black boots. he definitely had that bad-boy style look to him.

“way to make a lady feel comfortable mactavish. I’m sorry about him, luv. auntie lottie had mentioned us having a new neighbor and wanted to put a face to the name. I’m kyle, by the way, and this dog here is johnny.” the pretty man said, earning a small scoff from johnny, grumbling something about kyle not being any better than him. he wore a nice umber coat accompanied by a black turtleneck underneath. black slacks adoring his legs and a nice pair of chelsea boots. you would not even question if he was a model.

shit, you had been staring for too long, barely finding your voice before uttering something that sounded at least somewhat normal.

“I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, I don’t really get out much.” a nervous chuckle making its way past your lips as you try so hard to not make it so obvious of how you’ve been the one avoiding them this whole time.

“‘na need tae apologize bonnie. jus’ glad we caught ye jus’ in time. a’m sure tha’ other lads would love tae meet ye.” a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that can only be described as up-to-no-good with the way he’s staring at you.

“what he means is if you would like to come over some time, meet the rest of the team.” a charming smile plastered against his perfect lips that you don’t have it in your heart to say no. (not like you were going to in the first place)

you exchange numbers with johnny and kyle not missing the way their lingering gazes stay on you even after they leave.

sweet treat long forgotten.

a/n: we finally meet half of the boys RAAAA. i hope you guys like this chapter and if there’s anything that should be fixed like my god awful interpretation of scottish accent, please let me know! 😭 enjoy mis amores! <3

[straylightdream]

across the room

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeon wonwoo x f!chubby reader

I caught your eye across the room. No one can feel the tension between me and you. There's no need to mention all the things I wanna do. You wanna do 'em too. We both know we'd be over if they knew

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, mutual pining, secret lovers, romance, angst, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of body insecurities, cussing, mentions of drinking, angst, having to keep a “relationship” a secret, so much making out, open ending, wonwoo is kinda a former fuckboy.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dry humping, oral (both rec), handjob, fingering, protected intercourse, multiple positions, couch sex, cum eating, snowballing?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐚𝐧: wrote this a while ago and decided it was time to fully rework it.

🎧: hush hush - the band camino | talk fast - 5 seconds of summer

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚����𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

His hands held your face as your lips moved together. His lips were completely intoxicating as they moved against yours. There was something about this touch that just drove you absolutely wild. You’re sitting next to each other on your couch. Your fingers gripped his shirt holding him closer to you. He pulls his lips ways from yours and smirk plays across his lips. He well aware of how much he’s turning you on.

“What’s your endgame here?” You ask with your voice low.

“My goal is to have you naked on this couch,” he says completely serious.

“Is that right?” you ask raising your eyebrow.

You and Wonwoo had started this flirty thing a month ago. You’re complete opposites he’s a drop dead gorgeous man with the body of a Greek god you’re a chubby girl who hasn’t ever fooled around outside a relationship.

You felt like this is a game of cat and mouse and once he gets what he wants he’ll be done. This wasn’t the first time you had shared a steamy make out session. Normally things between you got a little handsy but nothing more.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a gentle kiss and pulled away resting his nose against yours.

“I think we’re wearing too much clothing,” his lips brushed against yours.

You were so turned on you were trying to think logically and not tear off your clothes and jump him.

“I think you need to behave,” you reached up resting your hand on his cheek.

“Baby you’re killing me,” he groaned, pulling away from you.

“I think you’ll live,” you smile as you rest your hand on his thigh.

“You’re giving me blue balls babe,” he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

“I think we can have fun without taking our clothes off,” You say as your hand moves to his jean covered bulge.

A groan passed his lips you massaged him. Leaning forward he placed his hands on your soft sides and pulled you onto his lap.

You hadn’t ever sat on his lap before and you felt extremely self conscious about your weight. Your hips starting grinding against his. His lips were connected to your neck gently nipping at your skin. He pulls his lips away from your skin and holds your doughy sides helping move your hips. Your hands held his face so he was looking at you. Pulling off his glasses they set them on the table next to the couch. His dark eyes lust blown as he stared at you. His lips pressed to yours and as he pulled away he gently bit your bottom lip.

“Even if we don’t have sex can we shed some clothes?” his voice is low.

“Sure,” you say with every intention of keeping your clothes on but making sure he feels good.

Crawling off his lap you sit on your knees on the floor between his legs and look up at him with big doe eyes. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he stares down at you.

“What do you want to happen from here?” he putting the ball in your court.

“Take your pants off,” you say, attempting to sound sexy.

He stands up in front of you and quickly pushes down his jeans and boxers. His already hard cock springs free, he’s bigger than you imagined. You had seen Wonwoo shirtless, but you hadn’t ever seen him fully naked.

His pants are pushed down to his thighs and he is sitting there watching you in anticipation. He silently removed his shirt so he’s basically naked.

Sitting up you’re still sitting on your knees. Your hands rest on his thighs. You were going to be brave right now. Wonwoo’s one of the hottest men you have ever seen and he wanted you. Right then you wanted to make him feel good. Reaching forward you stroked his hardened length. A groan passed his lips as he closed his eyes.

Leaning forward you licked the underside of his excitement. His eyes popped open as he watched you take him into your mouth.

You take him as far back as you fully can until he’s touching the back of your throat.“Baby that feels so good,” he pushed his fingers through hair. Gently you bobbed your head as your hand helped work his length.

A slur of curse words passed his lips letting you know he was getting closer and closer to coming. You hadn’t given someone head in a really long time and you were worried you wouldn’t be good at it, but by the way he was saying your name he seemed like he was really enjoying it.

“Fuck-fu-“ you’re getting wet just by the sounds of his moans. “I’m coming-“ You have zero desire to pull off. You want him to fall apart in your mouth. You feel the warm liquid from his release in your mouth and swallow without even thinking about it.

He tugs your hair gently pulling you away. Looking up at him you run your tongue across your bottom lip.

He pulls you onto his lap and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. He doesn’t even care that he can taste himself on your lips.

“That was so hot,” he groans with his lips ghosting against yours.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” you say, feeling proud of yourself.

“You made me feel amazing,” he smiles as his hands move up your sides resting under your breast.

“Let me make you feel good,” he says, pulling your shirt up.

“It’s okay, how about next time?” you say as you push your shirt down.

His eyes brows knit together as he looks at you with a confused look. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

You shake your head and say, “I want to have sex with you, but I want to take this slow.”

You were taking things slow because you were afraid that he was going to run once he got what he wanted. You also had a fear that once he saw you naked he wouldn’t want to be with you. He was known for liking pretty skinny girls.

“Okay we can take it slow, but can I at least touch these,” he asked as his eyes were locked in your large breast.

Silently you nod. Reaching forward, his hands hold your breast. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he looks at you with a lust fueled look. As his hands grope your chest you fight back moaning. You want more desperately but you’re too afraid. His hand moves to the edge of your shirt and your eyes pop open quickly. You’re terrified of him seeing you without your shirt. You watch as his hand crawls under your shirt. His hand rested on your breast under your shirt and his touch felt electric. Hungry eyes stay locked on yours as his hands massages your breast. His lips connected to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

The sound of your phone ringing caught both your attention. Wonwoo looked up at you with wide eyes for a moment.

You wanted to ignore the call, but Wonwoo reached over and grabbed your phone. It’s Seungcheol’s name on your phone.

“I can send it to voicemail,” you say, still caught up in the moment.

“Answer it, he’ll start asking questions if you don’t.”

-

This whole “thing” between you and Wonwoo was a secret. Nobody in your friend group is aware that you two have something going on. Before this all started Wonwoo had been extremely vocal about not wanting to hook up with anyone in the friend group. You weren’t even exactly sure how this all started. It still blows your mind that he’s interested in you. You’re far from his normal type, and the moment you met him you couldn’t lie you had a crush on him. In the beginning it started with longing looks on your part. You couldn’t help but stare. He's just so pretty. It wasn’t long before he started staring back at you. You were completely caught off guard the first time he walked over and talked to you. Shortly after the longing looks he started touching you. They were innocent touches, like he would touch your arm while he spoke to you. When he started resting his hand on your thigh that’s when things started heating up.

You were at a party at Seungcheol’s house when things started to really change between you. It had been a couple weeks of him touching you, and you were standing in the kitchen talking while everyone was drinking throughout the house. You’re leaning against the counter and Wonwoo is standing right in front of you. You’re telling him some random story about when you had to take care of a very drunk Soonyoung. He seems like he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. His pretty eyes seem to be locked on your lips.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you ask.

He shakes his head and lets out a nervous laugh. His little laugh always gave you butterflies.

“Should I leave you alone then?” you are curious as to why he isn’t paying attention to what you have to say.

Reaching up he pushes a piece of your hair behind your ear and you can’t help but smile at this simple gesture. He leans forward and his lips brush against your ear, “I can’t pay attention to you because I really want to kiss you.”

Your heart races at his words as you pull away from him and look up at him unsure if he’s being serious. He tilts his head to the side and gives you a smile. He is well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t seem to think about anything other than what your pretty lips will feel like against mine,” he reaches out and touches your arms and you immediately get goose bumps.

“Then are you going to kiss me?”

He bites his bottom lip and pulls away from you. He takes his hat off and pushes his fingers through his hair. He seems oddly nervous which is extremely unlike him.

“I would like for that to be something private with us alone.”

You look around the house and see that it’s filled with all your friends, and you really didn’t want them in your business when it came to your “relationship/friendship” with Wonwoo.

“Well you can always meet me at my place later,” you say trying to be confident.

He smiled and nodded his head, “I’ll leave in ten minutes and then you leave in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you at your place.”

From your first kiss you knew you were in trouble when it came to Wonwoo.

-

You answer your phone and Seungcheol is asking if you can come over for a party he’s having. He mentions that Soonyoung and Mingyu are on their way and he’s gonna call Wonwoo next. You tell him you’ll be there in twenty. Hanging up your phone you slowly crawl off of Wonwoo, who is still basically naked on the couch.

He gives you a strange look as you reach on the coffee table and grab his phone that has just started ringing.

“He wants to hang, we probably shouldn’t show up together,” you trying to act like it doesn’t bug you that this whole thing is a secret.

Wonwoo takes the call and agrees to head over. He hangs up his phone and pulls his boxers and pants up and finishes getting dressed. You head off to your room to find something to wear. You were in nothing but a pair of leggings and a big shirt. Wonwoo stands in your doorway watching you as you pull out a sweater to wear.

“Did you want to head over together?” he asked.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” you ask knowing that the group will wonder why you drove over together.

“Probably not,” he says walking towards you.

“You should probably head over and I’ll meet you there,” you say as he stops in front of you. He looks down at and holds your face for a long moment before he leans down and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. Pulling away from you he smiles and says, “thank you for earlier. I need to return the favor.”

You stare at him unsure of what to say. Your body is screaming at you to tell him he can return the favor whenever, but your mind is too self conscious to say that.

“I’ll see you at Seungcheol’s,” you say, changing the subject.

“See you there,” he says before walking out of the apartment.

You hear your front door shut and you sit down on your bed and let out a heavy sigh before rubbing your face. You kept telling yourself that you needed to be confident when it comes to Wonwoo, that he clearly wants you, but you can’t help the walls that you have built up. You’ve had a few shitty ex boyfriends that have drained any self confidence you had.

Ten minutes after Wonwoo left your place you drove over to Seungcheol’s place. You’re greeted by Soonyoung and Mingyu hugging you, and Wonwoo gives you a simple hello as if he wasn’t naked on your couch not even a half hour ago. A bunch of the other boys have showed up. Vernon just arrived with his girlfriend and her roommate. In the living room everyone is sitting around drinking beer and hanging out. Standing in the kitchen with Soonyoung you can feel Wonwoo’s dark eyes on you. The tension between you is thick and you can’t help but wonder if the group has any clue if anything is going on.

Walking back into the living room you sit across from him.

You’re sitting on the couch when you feel your phone vibrate. Opening your phone you can’t help but smile as you read the text Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: I would much rather have you naked right now.

Your cheeks burn as you read his text. You shoot him a look and he just smiles at you, well aware of what he’s doing.

“Come here,” Seungcheol says to catch your attention.

The rest of the evening you continue to hang out with the group. Wonwoo leaves long before you, he has dinner plans with some friends. The moment he leaves you feel all the sexual tension in your body is relieved.

You head home when the little party starts to die down. You head to your place and lay down in bed and scroll through your phone. You smile as you see you have a text from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: are you going to Soonyoung’s place tomorrow for the party?

From you: Yes I’ll be there.

It takes less than a minute before you receive another text from him that reads,

From Wonwoo: okay good. I think you should wear that pretty pink dress.

You know the exact dress he’s talking about. You wore it the night you shared your first kiss.

From you: Why should I wear that?

Another text quickly comes in that reads,

From Wonwoo: Because I’ll reward you with something that makes you feel good.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you read his text. You know exactly what he means and you have every single intention of wearing that dress. As you lay in bed you can’t wait to see Wonwoo tomorrow at the party. You know this is probably just a game of cat and mouse, but you think you’re finally ready to let something more really happen.

-

Loud music played throughout the house. Standing in Soonyoung’s backyard you watch your friends and lots of strangers were drinking and having a good time. Yuna standing next to you holding her drink she’s telling you about some dance audition she had earlier. Looking across the yard you find Wonwoo talking to Chan. Your eyes lock and he smiles at you. His dark eyes stay locked on you as he’s listening to Chan.

Yuna Notices right away that you aren’t fully paying attention and looks at you with a curious look. She asks you, “So who has your attention?”

You try your hardest not to panic as you look at her.You need to lie you can’t let her know you’re staring at Wonwoo.

“I was looking at Chan, he's over there talking with his hands and I was wondering what he was saying,” you lie.

“Oh,” she says, not bothering to ask you any more questions.

She walks inside to find Vernon and you make your way through the crowded house heading over towards the kitchen. You reach into the fridge and grab a bottle of water. You weren’t the type of person who really ever drank at these parties other than maybe one beer. Your friends tended to get a little crazy and sometimes needed someone to take care of them. Your whole life you had always been dubbed the mom friend, and from the moment you met Seungcheol and all your friends that didn’t change. You watch as Wonwoo and Chan are walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey (Y/N),” Wonwoo smiles.

“Hey boys,” you say looking over at Chan who is holding a beer.

“Where’s your drink?” Chan asks, noticing that you’re holding a bottle of water.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight, and someone is going to have to make sure Soonyoung gets put to bed safely,” you say with a little laugh.

“Let’s be real, someone needs to take care of all their drunk asses,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head.

“I thought you were sober and not drinking tonight?” Chan asks.

“I think all of you need more than one person to take care of you,” you let out a little laugh.

“True,” Chan said before taking a drink of his beer.

Chan heads over to Swungkwan leaving you alone with Wonwoo. It’s rare that you and Wonwoo ever get a moment alone at an event with your friends. That might be why people don’t actually think something is going on between you. Literally nobody even has the slightest idea something is happening.

You’re leaning against the counter as he’s watching you. The tension between you is thick and you wish you could kiss him, but you knew that wasn’t an option. You don't need everyone in the room to know what’s going on between you.

“I see you wore the pink dress,” he says as his eyes travel up and down your soft body.

Looking down at your feet you can’t help but blush,”I wore it just for you.”

He steps closer to you so there isn’t much distance between you. Looking around you look to see if anyone is paying attention.

“I think I said that I would reward you for wearing this,” He leans closer as he whispers loud enough for only you to hear.

“Is that promise?” you look into his dark eyes that already look lust blown.

He nods and steps away from you. A shiver runs down your spine as he smirks at you.

“I look forward to that later,” you walk away from him. You feel his eyes on you as you walk off towards the bathroom. You need a moment alone, he managed to leave you feeling extremely flustered without even trying.

Walking into the bathroom you shut the door and took a deep breath. The sound of someone knocking on the door catches your attention.

“One minute,” you say softly. Whatever drunk girl that needed to use the restroom could wait a minute.

“It’s Wonwoo, let me in,” you hear him say on the other side.

Reaching forward you unlock the door and step back. He steps inside and shuts the door and locks it. You know this is dangerous that someone could have seen him come into the bathroom with you.

Leaning against the bathroom counter as he walks towards you like a hunter stalking his prey. He grips your soft hips and helps you sit on the edge of the bathroom counter. He stands between your legs and his large hands rest on your soft thighs.

“I need to kiss you,” he says leaning forward so his lips brush against yours.

“Then kiss me,” you say feeling bold.

He leans into your lips and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips move together and you thank god that he joined you in the bathroom. You weren’t sure if you would ever get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Never in your life have you ever felt the sparks you felt when you kissed Wonwoo. Pulling his lips away from yours he gently tugged on your bottom lip and you couldn't help the soft moan that passed your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans with his lips ghosting yours.

“You’re beautiful too,” you say. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get out how pretty he is.

“As soon as this party is over I’m going to make you feel good,” he says as he rubs your thigh under your dress. He leaves you wanting more as he pulls his hand away from your skin.

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours for another kiss before stepping away. You watch as he leaves the bathroom and you stay in there for a couple minutes hoping people wouldn’t notice you’re in there together.

Walking out of the bathroom you look around hoping nobody noticed you leaving shortly after Wonwoo.

The house is filled with too many people you didn’t know and loud music. You wander around alone contemplating how long you had to stay before acceptably being able to leave. You look off into the kitchen to find Wonwoo talking to Chan once again. As he watches you walk by you can feel his eyes burning into you. You find Yuna and Mia sitting on the couch and you walk over and sit next to them. They’re talking about Mia and Seokmin’s wedding and you know this is the perfect topic to keep your mind off of Wonwoo.

An hour passes when you notice Wonwoo is no longer at the party. He’s always been the type of person who leaves a party without telling anyone. You thought this situation might be a little different though.

At midnight you take this as your opportunity to say your goodbyes to the group. You drive home and you can’t help but feel a little nervous about seeing Wonwoo.

-

Laying in your bed you can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re on edge waiting to hear from Wonwoo in some capacity.

At two in the morning you butterflies fill your stomach at a text from him.

From Wonwoo: Can you pick me up?

You know that he wants you to pick him but because if anyone drives by and sees his car at your apartment at two in the morning it will be obvious that something is going on.

From you: can be there in ten. Meet me outside.

You’re playing with fire and you’re well aware of that. Since this thing started between you and Wonwoo you hadn’t ever picked each other up in the middle of the night. You knew that this wasn’t just going to be you guys hanging out and making out. Wonwoo had promised to make you feel good, and you knew that consisted of you taking your clothes off.

The drive to Wonwoo’s apartment is short and you find him outside waiting for you. You pull up to the curb and he jumps in and leans over to press his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

As you start driving he reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh. His thumb gently brushes against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

The short drive to your place seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity as you pull into your parking spot.

Slowly getting out of your car you shut the door and take a deep breath. You watch as Wonwoo walks towards the front door. You’ve never been happier that you live alone.

Opening the door you walk inside. Looking over at the clock near the door it reads 2:45am. You know that this isn’t going to be an innocent make out session. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at you with lust filled eyes.

Taking a deep breath you tell yourself that you are ready for this. That you’re brave, that you’re a confident woman who loves her own body and is ready for this.

“Why do I feel like you’re overthinking this?” He steps towards you.

“Because I totally am overthinking everything right now,” you nervously smooth your dress down.

He reaches up and rests his hand on your arm and his dark eyes lock on yours, “what are you thinking about?”

Silently you stare at him for a long moment. You know you need to be honest with him. “What happens after tonight?”

He pushes his hand through his hair and stares back at you before he says, “what do you mean?”

“What happens after I finally have sex with you? Are we over because the thrill of the chase is over?” you hated that what you were asking was so brutally honest but you needed to know.

“Do you really think that little of me?” he says as if he is pretty hurt by your question.

“I’m trying to be realistic here. I know damn well I’m not your type,” your building up a wall in an attempt to save yourself.

He takes your face in both his hands and says, “this isn’t some game to me. I want you, because I really like you. This isn’t just about trying to have sex with you.” Butterflies flutter around your stomach as he leaves you at complete loss of words.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours while he’s still holding your face. Your lips move together for a heated kiss. The room feels like it’s spinning as you get wrapped up in his touch. His hands slowly move from holding your face to resting on your neck. Pulling your lips away from him you take a slow breath as you stare at him with lust blown eyes. He licks his lips as a smile plays on his face. He steps back and pulls his shirt off. The sight of him standing shirtless in front of you makes your mouth water.

“God how are you even real,” you groan as you reach out dragging your hands down his abs that seem to be cut from marble.

“I workout a lot,” he says ever so casually.

“I’m well aware,” you shake your head and look up at him.

“I see you’re still wearing the dress,” his hand moved up so they’re playing with the edge of your sleeve.

You nod silently.

“Can we take this off?”

You want to say no, but you need to be brave. He’s made this very clear that this isn’t some game to him.

“Yeah.”

He steps behind you and slides the zipper slowly down the back of your dress. You feel the cool air against your skin. You close your eyes as he reaches up and moves the dress of your shoulders. You stand in a pool of fabric and the cool air against your skin is a reminder of how bare you are.

The feeling of his lips against your bare shoulder snaps you out of your thoughts. Instinctually you wrap your arms across your stomach. His lips move to the side of your neck kissing the right spot that he knows drives you wild. With his lips ghosting your skin he says, “you’re so pretty.”

Your eyes pop open when you feel his lips move away from your skin. He stands in front of you as his dark eyes travel up and down your soft body. You’re on full display, and you’re worried he isn’t going to like what he sees.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says as he works on unbuckling his belt.

You reach up and unclasp your bra, and work on taking it off as he takes off his pants, and his shoes.

You're both standing there in nothing but your underwear and your heart starts to race at what is going to come next. His lips are once again on your neck, but this time his hand hungry hands are roaming your curvy body. Biting your lips you hold back a moan as his lips move down to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches against him craving his touch.

“We need to get to my bed or the coach,” you moan.

He removes his lips from your skin and smiles. Reach down, he takes your hand and leads you over to the couch. You sit down on the scene of your earlier crime where you gave him head yesterday. You watch as Wonwoo quickly walks over to his jeans that are on the floor where you had just been standing. He pulls a condom out of his wallet and tosses it back into the puddle of clothing on the floor. He walks back over to the couch and sets the foil packets on the coffee table and looks over at you for a moment.

“Do you want to continue?” he asks. You silently nod. “Please tell me you want more,” he says.

“Wonwoo I want every single part of you.”

“Okay,” he says as he pushes his boxers down. He once again stands in front of you completely naked and you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get over the sight of him naked. You fully understand why all women and men that encounter him always talk about how hot he is.

You stand up taking this as your cue to lose your own underwear. Hooking your fingers into your panties you push them down your thick thighs.

“Sit down on the couch,” he says.

Silently you listen and sit down on the couch. He kneels in front of you and looks at you like he’s about to eat you alive, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on to no end. His hands rest on each of your knees and push them apart slowly. He reaches up and grabs your butt pulling you closer to the edge of the couch. He kisses his way up your inner thigh until his lips brush the top of your mound. Closing your eyes you fight back moaning as he licks your already wet slit. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he laps at your bundle of nerves. He adds one of his long fingers into the mix. It’s not long before he has you completely on the edge and moaning his name. Another finger is added as he sucks on your clit. This man is very good with his fingers and his mouth. Your eyes about roll back in your head as the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

Tangling your fingers in his dark hair you hold him close to your wet core. “Won-“ his name is a broken cry as you're so close to the edge you can taste it. “Please-“

Your orgasm feels like a white hot wave as you come against his mouth.

Coming down from your high you stare at him with lust filled eyes. He stands sporting a proud smile at his handy look.

“I promised you I would make you feel good.”

Reaching down he picks up the foil packet and tears it open with his teeth. Your breathing is still uneven as you watch him slide the rubber down his hardened length. Sitting his glasses down on the coffee table. He sits down on the couch next to you, and automatically connects his lips to yours for a searing kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he moves to pull you onto his lap. You’re hovering over his cock as your lips continue to move together. Pulling your lips away from his you bit your bottom lip as you rest your hand on his tone chest. His hand moves to your soft hips and stares into your eyes as he guides you down his straining cock. Closing your eyes you moan as he stretches you in the best way possible. He bottoms out leaving you sitting on his thighs. Silently you stare at him taking in the feeling of him stretching you. He feels as if he was made for you. Reach up, taking his face in your hands and say, “oh my god you feel amazing.”

“Baby you feel incredible,” he groans.

Slowly you start moving your body up and down his length. His hands stay resting on your sides helping to guide your movement.

Your lips crash together and you roll your hips into his. This felt just like you hoped it would. Your hand talon into his shoulders as you moan into his lips. With each movement he’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He’s so big he’s stretching in the most delicious way.

His lips move down your next leaving a trail of gentle nips and wet kisses. All the oxygen feels like it’s being sucked out of the room as the coil in your stomach is tightening. Your finger snakes down and rubs your sensitive clit. All the nerves in your body feel like they’re alive as you’re getting closer and closer to the edge.

His dark eyes are locked on yours as he reaches up, taking your face in his hands. You close your eyes you roll your hip faster. Your knees are starting to burn but you don’t even care. You desperately want to come. “Look at me,” he groans. Opening your eyes. You stare at him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. He thrusts up to meet each of your movements. He’s hitting just the right place as he lifts his hips thrusting into you.

When he pushes you over the edge you see stars. Your whole body burns and everything feels so warm. Throwing your head back you moan his name riding out your high. You roll your hips trying to help him find his own release. He catches you off guard when he moves both of you so you’re flat on your back and he’s hovering over you. He pauses for a moment. Leaning down, crashing his lips into yours. Pulling away he slides into you again. He rolls his hips into you over and over as you high wash over you.

Reaching up you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him close to you. Your lips move together as his thrust grows sloppier. He groans your name as he finds his release.

He collapses on top of you and you can’t help but smile. He stays there for a long moment before he pulls himself of you. Slowly he walks off to the bathroom and discards the condom before walking back over and sitting on the couch next to you.

“Did you maybe want to lay in your bed together?” he asks, catching you off guard.

You nod your head and smile. You take his hand and lead him off to your room. Laying down in bed Wonwoo lays close to you and pulls your soft body close to his. It’s not long before you fall asleep in his arms. You aren’t sure what any of this means but you hope maybe one day you and Wonwoo can have something more than secret little moments together.

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.

[haerenven]

If you write for him, could I ask for Sir Crocodile who is absolutely WHIPPED for reader? I loveee when he’s portrayed as a hopeless romantic for his partner and it’s even better when reader is the same way towards him ♡ sort of like Mortica and Gomez ^^ (I’m not normal about him I’m sorry LMAOWJDB)

           苦⠀⠀⠀℘𝗈𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗌⠀𝐞⠀⸺⠀𝒮ilenci̲o̲s⠀⠀٫

Pairings. Sir crocodile x fem!reader

summary. Whipped

— (a/n): i am so so super excited for that request, in fact I was waiting for crocodile for so long but got no idea.

⠀⠀   ⠀             ︵‿⭒                     ⠻ ‎❀ ‎⠟  

— He is devoted, not desperate.

Crocodile does not chase love—he does not stumble over himself to prove his worth, nor does he fall into the reckless behaviors of men who do not understand the meaning of control. He is not a man ruled by whims, yet when it comes to you, something inside him changes. He does not worship as poets or fools do; rather, he loves you as a man who fully understands what he owns. His love is deliberate, a silent force that weaves itself into your life without request, without question. He is not a beggar at the altar of your love—he is the altar itself, the ground upon which your love is built. His devotion is not a weakness; it is a law—unspoken, absolute, and completely unbreakable.

— Actions over words.

Crocodile is not a man who speaks in vain, nor does he waste his time on great declarations. Words are cheap. He has been a man of power for a very long time to believe in beautiful phrases and fleeting emotions. What he truly believes in is consistency. A gloved hand touching yours—not by accident, but because he wants to feel your presence. The way he ensures you walk on the safe side of the street, a silent habit that has become part of his nature. He watches over you not because he doubts your strength, but because the idea of something happening to you is not a possibility he can accept. Loyalty is not something he gives easily. But you? You hold his loyalty in a way no one else does, and even if he never says it out loud, you will know. You will always know.

— He indulges you—but only you.

Crocodile has no patience for fools. His subordinates know well not to waste his time, and he rarely engages in unnecessary conversations. But with you? His attention is yours alone. It does not matter if you are talking about something important or simply enjoying the sound of your own voice—he listens. He listens in a way that seems indifferent, reclining with a cigar in hand, occasionally letting out a hum or a low chuckle, but he does not miss a thing. He notices every change in your tone, every glance, every small smile that tugs at your lips. And when you turn to him expecting a reaction, he meets your gaze with that same knowing look—because of course he was listening. He remembers details no one else notices and indulges your whims in ways that are so subtle yet so profound that you do not realize how much he spoils you until you think about it.

— The little things he does to take care of you.

If you fight, your weapons are always in perfect condition—not because you asked, but because he made sure of it. There is no spectacle in the way he takes care of you, no unnecessary words or dramatic displays. He simply does. If you forget to eat, he will not scold or argue with you—he will place a plate in front of you, and he will not take no for an answer. If you are hurt, the entire world stops until it is taken care of. His hands—so accustomed to violence—become incredibly gentle when they touch you, his gloved fingers lifting your chin to examine even the smallest wounds. He does not make a fuss, does not overreact, but the tight set of his jaw says everything. His concern is silent but suffocating, woven into the very fabric of your life.

And if someone was the cause of your pain? That is an entirely different matter.

— His temper is controlled, but his rage is not.

Crocodile is not a man who acts on reckless emotion. He does not explode, does not waste his energy on unnecessary outbursts. His anger is quiet, cold, and patient. One glance from him can freeze a man where he stands, and a slow drag of his cigar is the only sign that he is deciding how to handle the situation. If someone hurts you—physically or emotionally—they will not know the moment they sealed their fate. There will be no warning. No second chances.

— He does not threaten. He does not need to.

Instead, things simply happen. Business partners disappear. “Accidents” occur. A man who dared to speak ill of you suddenly finds himself without allies, his empire crumbling beneath him. Revenge for him is easy, simple, effortless. He does not just remove problems—he erases them from existence as if they were never worth acknowledging in the first place.

And you? You do not even need to ask. By the time you mention the offense, it has already been dealt with.

— When he expresses his affection, it is with purpose.

Crocodile is not a man who wastes words. He does not say things he does not mean, and he certainly does not indulge in flowery phrases. But when he speaks to you, when his words are slow and measured, laced with something meant only for you—they carry weight.

“You are the only one who matters.”

Said in the dead of night, when the world is silent and his walls are at their lowest. His voice is rough, weary, but certain.

“I do not trust easily. You know that.”

A simple sentence, but the meaning behind it is undeniable.

And when he says “I love you”—on the rare occasions he does—it is never empty. Never casual. It is a statement, a fact, as unshakable as the empire he has built.

— He lets you in—truly in.

No one sees him as you do. No one sees past the Warlord, the businessman, the criminal. No one else knows what his silence truly means, what lingers behind those sharp amber eyes when no one else is looking. He is a man who does not trust, a man who has built his entire life on control, on keeping people at a distance.

— But you? You are different.

You see the rare moments when he is unguarded, when his head tilts back, eyes closed, exhaling a long breath as the tension drains from his body. When his hand—always gloved, always composed—finds its way to your waist, gripping just enough to remind himself that you are real. When he allows himself to sleep beside you, something he never does unless he is completely at ease.

To the world, he is untouchable. But to you? He is simply yours.

[luveline]

can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️

Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 

It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.

“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 

“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”

“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”

Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 

You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 

“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 

“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 

Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 

He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 

It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 

They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 

“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 

“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 

There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 

Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 

Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 

Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 

Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 

You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 

“The laughing.” 

“You laugh.” 

“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 

“How’s Haley?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 

You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 

“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 

“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 

“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 

It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 

“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 

Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 

“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 

Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke. 

[mariasont]

not exactly vacation material

hotch reluctantly admits he doesn't know how to vacation, and you're determined to help.

pairing: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warnings: fem!reader, flangst, hotch opening up just a smidge prompt: here wc: 1.1k

“I still can’t believe Garcia actually dragged Rossi into a psychic reading booth.” Your voice trails off into a bubbly, disbelieving giggle.

Beside you, Hotch makes a sound of amusement that you secretly cherish way more than you probably should. The team had practically sprinted in different directions the second you got to the boardwalk, and somehow, you’d found yourself gravitating toward Hotch.

Or maybe he’d gravitated toward you. 

Either way, both of you quickly (and silently, always silently) established that sugary clouds of cotton candy and sketchy predictions about love and wealth weren’t exactly your thing.

Or rather, they were absolutely your thing, just not in front of Hotch. You just couldn't really bear the thought of him watching you get sugar-coated fingertips and a strawberry-stained tongue.

And you certainly weren't about to have a stranger peer into your future and hint knowingly at your absurd crush on your boss.

No, some vulnerabilities aren't meant to be shared, so instead you're here — strolling side-by-side, sneaking careful glances at his profile glowing in the quickly dying sunlight, pretending your heart isn’t beating double-time whenever your elbows brush.

It's not helping, though, that Hotch seems distant tonight — not cold, of course, he could never be cold — but thoughtful in that deeply, faraway way of his. It’s the kind of quietness that makes your fingers itch to smooth out whatever’s creasing his brow.

But that would be inappropriate, so you opt for nudging his shoulder lightly, hoping it feels playful instead of anxious. 

“You know, if you’re secretly dying to witness Morgan on the Ferris wheel, we still have time to turn back,” you say, smiling up at him through your lashes, “Or,” you pause, suddenly feeling emboldened, “we could talk about what’s bothering you. No pressure, though. This is a totally judgment-free walk.”

There’s a pause, and then Hotch looks at you in a way that nearly sends you face-first into the wooden boards beneath your feet. You really need to invest in coordination lessons if you’re going to keep hanging around him like this. 

Golden hour has never felt more cruelly intentional, spilling liquid gold across his features that blur every hard line you wanted to smooth away, turning them into something irresistibly gentle.

You do your best not to openly gawk.

“I’m just —” he begins cautiously, as though the words aren’t quite fitting right in his mouth, “not used to vacations, or downtime, really. Feels a bit foreign to me.”

It’s not every day that Aaron Hotchner actually admits he’s uncomfortable, and the blunt honesty hits you with enough force to knock you sideways.

Almost.

Your first instinct is to lean into gentle reassurance, maybe even squeeze his hand or say something profoundly comforting, but you’re fairly certain that might send him sprinting back to emotional lockdown at record speed.

So, you pivot, smiling instead.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you tease. “Hotch, I’ve seen you triple-check the Airbnb reservations and wake up at six a.m. just to get a good spot on the beach. You're basically the poster boy for dad-on-vacation.” Your grin broadens. “All you’re missing is the Hawaiian shirt and socks with sandals.”

You earn a laugh from him, and your heart practically cartwheels in triumph. Excessive, yes, but entirely justified. 

Hotch glances sideways at you. “I’ll have to draw the line at socks with sandals.”

“So, the Hawaiian shirt still has potential. Very interesting development.”

The silence that follows is gentle, akin to the warm breeze threading through your hair. It’s comfortable. Peaceful without trying too hard.

Your shoulders brush occasionally — definitely accidental, obviously innocent, totally nothing worth overthinking (though you’re already doing exactly that) — but then it’s his arm brushing yours again. One might be an accident. Twice feels a little more intentional.

You both politely pretend not to notice.

Then your fingers collide, a hesitant meeting of fingertips. This time, neither of you pretend. You let them stay.

“Do you travel much?”

His question interrupts your quiet contemplation, startling you enough to nearly pull your fingers away, but you don’t. Instead, you lift your eyebrows, pretending shock at the very idea.

"Vacation? Bold of you to assume I'm allowed days off. I've got this super serious boss who frowns upon relaxation. Maybe you've met him?"

He shoots you a knowing look that melts your defenses, pulling a soft, almost shy laugh from your throat.

"Okay, okay, yeah, I traveled a lot growing up," you admit. “My parents were always off somewhere fancy for conferences or vacations. Figured if I didn't travel to them, I'd probably forget what they looked like.”

You regret the accidental seriousness the instant the words leave your mouth, feeling Hotch’s fingers gently retreat from yours. It's subtle, barely there — but enough to remind you of who you're talking to.

He knows your father, after all, and you’ve just inadvertently thrown the age difference (and everything complicated about this) right back in his face.

“Suddenly, your fixation on the thread count of the house’s sheets makes a lot more sense,” Hotch says, dry humor tugging lightly at the corner of his mouth, one eyebrow arching gently upward.

Yet your sharp eyes catch the subtle tightening of his jaw, the almost imperceptible stiffening — a clear indication your mention of family grazed a sensitive spot.

It’s a tiny sign that maybe you’ve stepped a little closer to a line he wasn’t ready to cross.

"Okay," you say, laughing a bit to cover the awkward flutter of nerves still dancing in your chest., "I'm sensing some judgment here, but for your information, my so-called fixation didn't stop me from backpacking through Europe and willingly sleeping on sheets that probably hadn’t been washed since the previous decade." You pause, looking to him. “You know, I actually think you’d really enjoy Europe.”

“I’ve been,” he replies, eyes distant and thoughtful in a way that has you holding your breath. “But only for endless hotel-to-meeting-room cycles.” He hesitates before adding, “Honestly, I wish I’d made time for real vacations earlier. Feels like I missed a lot of chances to just... slow down.”

Your mind stumbles a little, suddenly alert. It’s a small admission, so small anyone else might overlook it, but you know better. Because you know what he’s hinting at. You’re careful not to react too obviously.

“You've got plenty of time to catch up,” you reassure, “Honestly, anyone who packs extra sunscreen just in case already understands the basics of vacation-mode better than they think. Just gotta lean into it.”

Hotch chuckles quietly, tension easing from his posture as he catches your eyes. “I’m not sure packing extra sunscreen counts as vacation expertise, but I appreciate your generous interpretation.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, letting your voice hang somewhere between playful and sincere.

For a moment the comfortable quiet returns, filled only by your shared footsteps. You're aware of every tiny touch — accidental, intentional, completely uncertain — and wonder briefly, a little hopefully, if Rossi's psychic could predict what would happen next.

Probably not, but it's nice to pretend.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

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maria's spring break getaway masterlist

[moonselune]

Bg3 companions and a reader who is ridiculously into them? like can't be around them without blushing, stuttering over words, etc.

Love your writing ♥️♥️♥️

ahhhhh thank you so much, this was a pleasure to write !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Breakfast in camp had become a small but daily ordeal. Sitting across from Karlach was as thrilling as it was nerve-wracking. She always looked so effortlessly radiant—her wide smile lighting up her face, her hair messy from sleep, and that laugh that came from deep within her chest. You, meanwhile, were a nervous mess, barely able to lift a spoon without fumbling it in her presence.

This morning, you were attempting to slice an apple while also trying to sneak glances at her, as usual. But, distracted as you were, you barely noticed when she caught you looking. She grinned, that flash of teeth making your heart skip about five beats.

“Hey, you want some?” she asked, holding out a plate piled high with a variety of fresh fruits. You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Uh—y-yes! I mean, no! I mean—” You fumbled for the right words, your voice a bit too loud in your panic. Karlach looked at you, mildly confused but amused.

“Alright then, you let me know if you change your mind,” she said, winking, before going back to her breakfast. The little wink nearly killed you on the spot, and you dropped your apple, which rolled dramatically across the table and plopped off the other side.

Wyll, sitting beside you, tried to hide a snicker behind his hand. He’d been noticing your flustered behavior around Karlach for days and had clearly reached his breaking point. As Karlach turned away, Wyll leaned in close to you, smirking.

“Oh, this is painful to watch,” he muttered, barely containing his laughter. “When are you going to do something about it?”

You gave him a quick, desperate glare, feeling the blood drain from your face.

“Do something?” you whispered, panic lacing your voice. “Wyll, I can’t even string a proper sentence together around her without sounding like a fool!”

Wyll rolled his eyes, still grinning.

“Trust me, I can see that,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “But if you keep this up, it’s going to get unbearable for both of us. You’re absolutely lovesick, and she’s completely oblivious.”

“Lovesick?” you whispered, trying to keep your voice low but also scandalized by the word. “That’s… that’s not…”

Wyll arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look that read, Really?

You sighed, knowing he was right. Every time Karlach entered the room, you either found an excuse to leave or wound up a blushing, stumbling mess. Just this morning, she’d brushed a crumb off your shoulder, and you had nearly collapsed on the spot.

Wyll laughed, patting you on the back a little harder than you would have liked. “Look, if you don’t do something soon, I will. Maybe I’ll tell her for you—‘oh, by the way, did you know you’ve got someone so smitten with you, they can’t even eat breakfast right?’”

Your eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow with challenge.

“Fine,” you whispered, heart racing at the thought of actually doing something about it. “What do I… say?”

Wyll shrugged, his expression softening a bit. “Just talk to her. Be honest. If there’s one thing Karlach respects, it’s bravery. And if there’s one thing she loves, it’s someone who cares as much as she does.”

But as you mulled it over, you looked across the table and saw Karlach laughing at something Astarion was saying, her eyes bright with amusement, her entire face aglow with the life and warmth she carried effortlessly. You swallowed, trying to imagine how you’d ever muster up the courage to tell her anything.

The rest of breakfast went by with your heart hammering and Wyll occasionally sending you smirking looks. You felt like you were on fire, thoughts racing as you considered his words.

Finally, as camp was beginning to break up and everyone was scattering to their daily tasks, you decided to follow Wyll’s advice. Taking a deep breath, you gathered every bit of courage you could find and made your way over to Karlach, who was busy folding up her bedroll. She looked up, surprised, as you approached.

“Oh, hey! Need something?” she asked, her grin warm as always.

You cleared your throat, feeling the words get caught. “I… um…”

Karlach tilted her head, watching you patiently. “Everything okay?”

And there it was, the opening. The chance to say something. Be brave, you reminded yourself. You took a deep breath and tried again.

“I just… wanted to say…” you stumbled, unable to look her in the eye. “I really… enjoy spending time with you.”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a soft smile, her eyes studying your face, but still, she seemed blissfully unaware. “Well, good! Same here! You’re a lot of fun, you know. Brave in your own way, even if a bit shy,” she teased lightly, giving your arm a light squeeze.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, feeling your cheeks burn. Maybe Wyll had a point—Karlach appreciated bravery, and here you were, looking like a fool again. But as her hand lingered just a moment longer on your arm, you felt a surge of determination. This was only the beginning.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You’d found Minthara’s sword on the outskirts of camp that morning, half-buried beneath some tangled roots. It was unmistakably hers—dark metal with a wicked curve, and elegant engravings tracing the hilt. You’d only seen her use it from afar, but even then, there was something mesmerizing about the way she wielded it, about the way her gaze sharpened whenever she held a blade. You were already a bundle of nerves at the thought of returning it to her, and that only got worse the closer you got to her tent.

She was sharpening a dagger when you approached, her expression focused, so much so that for a moment, you thought about turning back. But then she noticed you, her eyes snapping up to meet yours with a glint of curiosity.

“You’re looking rather… tense.” Her eyebrow arched slightly as she took you in.

Your heart thudded painfully, and you swallowed, forcing yourself to hold up the sword without dropping it. “Uh, I… found this for you. Your sword, I mean. It was… um, outside camp, and I thought you might want it back?”

Her gaze softened, a small smirk playing on her lips as she reached for the sword, her fingers brushing against yours. You nearly jumped at the contact, face burning, feeling like you might explode from embarrassment. You tried to say something else, but the words came out as a strangled squeak, and you practically forced yourself to look at the ground to avoid those piercing eyes of hers.

“Hmm,” she murmured, glancing over the sword, and then back at you. “Thank you. It's… refreshing to see someone with a sense of respect.” She held your gaze for a moment longer, and then, with an amused nod, she went back to her sharpening.

You quickly walked away, all but stumbling as you escaped, only to find yourself practically nose-to-nose with Shadowheart, who looked far too amused.

"Gods above," she snorted, crossing her arms. "I've never seen someone turn so red while returning a weapon."

You stammered, looking anywhere but at her. "I was just… trying to be polite!"

"Polite? If that's your version of polite, then I’d hate to see you actually try flirting," she teased, unable to hide her grin.

“Oh, please,” you huffed, looking away and trying to calm the blush still heating your face. “It's just… I don’t know. I like her, alright? Even if she’s… well, she could probably kill me without a second thought.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. "Good to know you’re aware. And yet you still act like a lovesick fool around her, it's almost like you want her to kill you."

“I would die happy!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up. “Minthara could do anything she wants to me—absolutely anything at all—and I’d thank her. She could stomp me into the dirt, call me a fool, hex me, curse me, make my life a living hell, and I'd still probably thank her with my last breath!”

Shadowheart laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You’re hopeless."

But you were too caught up in your rant. "I’d let her do anything—anything at all! She could make me fetch her supplies every morning, have me clean her sword every night, stand guard for her at dawn and dusk, and I’d still think it was the best thing to ever happen to me!”

"Ahem."

You froze, mid-rant, and turned slowly to find Minthara standing directly behind you. She looked deeply amused, one eyebrow raised, her eyes glittering with dark humor. Her smirk was even more wicked than usual, and her gaze held you captive as she stepped closer.

“Good to know,” she said, her voice smooth and cool, her smirk only growing. “I may have to test that loyalty sometime.”

She winked at you, and then, just as easily as she’d come, she turned and sauntered away, leaving you standing there completely speechless, your face redder than ever.

Shadowheart burst out laughing, clutching her side as she watched you sway in shock. “You really have a gift for making a fool of yourself, you know that?”

You sank to your knees, stunned, still processing that Minthara had heard every single word. Shadowheart’s laughter rang in your ears, but you were simply too dazed to care. Perhaps that death would come quicker than expected - if your own heart didn't give out first.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Every time Lae’zel looked your way, you felt like a live wire, a rush of heat filling your face. She seemed to command every space she entered, her presence sharp, unapologetic, and utterly captivating. But whenever you were around her, every sentence became a tangle of stammered nonsense, and all you could do was blush helplessly. Today was no different.

You were fumbling with your supplies near the fire when Lae’zel walked over, her gaze scrutinizing as always.

"You’ve been acting strange,” she declared, crossing her arms and eyeing you critically. “Weakness of any sort is unacceptable. Are you unwell?"

Her bluntness only made you more flustered, words tripping over each other as you tried to respond. "No, I… I mean, yes, but not in that way. I mean, I'm fine. Completely fine.”

Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “You are not fine. You stammer, you lose color and gain it again. See Halsin or Shadowheart—this weakness needs mending.”

Desperate to reassure her, you tried to explain further, but each attempt seemed to make it worse. “I’m not… it’s not that kind of weakness, I just—well, around you, I—uh…”

She fixed you with a glare, her frown deepening. "Enough. Your words make less sense with every second. Perhaps you’re more ill than you realize.”

Your cheeks burned as she turned sharply to fetch Halsin, all but barking his name across camp. He arrived quickly, taking in the scene with a look of amused understanding.

“She is in poor health,” she said, gesturing at you. “They are losing control over their words and show clear signs of a fever. You will attend to them.”

Halsin’s brows lifted slightly, and with a knowing look, he glanced from you to Lae’zel. He gave a slow, considering nod. “Yes, I believe I see the trouble. An ailment, certainly… though it appears to be more of the heart than of the body.”

Lae’zel scowled, gripping her weapon as if ready for battle. “Explain this ‘heart ailment.’ What creature has inflicted it upon them?”

Halsin chuckled softly. “They’ve been bitten by a lovebug, Lae’zel. That’s all.”

Lae'zel let out a string of sharp Gith curses, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "A lovebug. Where does it lurk, this creature? If it is preying upon our camp, I’ll hunt it down myself and crush it beneath my blade."

Her fierce determination, though absurd, only made your heart race more. Halsin stifled a laugh, giving you a sidelong look of utter amusement.

“I think you’ll find that hunting it will be… difficult,” he said, barely hiding his grin. “The lovebug often prefers stealth, hiding within feelings rather than form.”

“Feelings, a psychic offender,” she repeated, her brow creasing in thought. After a moment, she nodded decisively. “It is trickier prey, then. But I will find it nonetheless.”

And with that, she strode off, muttering to herself about unknown threats to the camp. As soon as she was out of earshot, Halsin let out a laugh, clapping you on the shoulder. “You know, I think you may have just made a miraculous recovery.”

You let out a groan, pressing a hand to your flushed face. “Do you think she’ll ever realize?”

“Not any time soon, I’d wager,” he chuckled. “But watching her hunt for a creature that doesn’t exist… that’s something we’ll all enjoy.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart’s approach had been so unassuming, yet it immediately set your heart racing. You’d been minding your own business by the campfire, trying not to glance her way too much, when she’d walked over, looking perfectly calm and utterly oblivious to the effect she had on you. She needed help with a spell—one that apparently you could explain better than anyone else at camp. You tried to play it cool, managing a quick, slightly-too-high “Sure!” and hoping your pulse wasn’t visibly hammering in your throat.

Standing beside her, you began explaining the spell, hands trembling ever so slightly as you demonstrated the incantation.

“So…uh…you’ll want to focus your energy here, at the core…” you muttered, gesturing to the focus stone. You held it out for her to see, only to have her fingers brush yours, sending a jolt through you that nearly made you drop the thing.

“Like this?” Shadowheart asked, her gaze flicking up to meet yours. Her dark eyes held that same thoughtful curiosity, and your voice caught in your throat. It was hard enough trying to form sentences with her this close, let alone explain a complex spell.

“Y-yes. Like that,” you managed, each word coming out slightly unsteady. “And, uh, then you just…channel it gently, but with intention.” She tilted her head, leaning closer, following along with perfect focus.

Meanwhile, just behind her, Karlach was all but dying, barely containing her laughter as she watched you fumble. Her amusement was clearly at your expense, and it took every ounce of willpower not to glare at her. Your attention drifted back to Shadowheart just as she turned her attention to the final gesture of the spell.

Her hand rested over yours for a second too long, her voice soft as she asked, “Does this look right?”

You nodded dumbly, your brain too overloaded to form a coherent reply, and somehow muttered, “It’s, uh…very…graceful.” Internally, you cringed. Graceful?

Shadowheart, apparently too engrossed in the spell to notice your red cheeks, gave a small, content nod. She released your hand, oblivious to the way you quickly hid your trembling fingers.

“Thank you,” she said with a rare smile, her voice calm and warm. “I think I understand it now.”

She turned to leave, casting one last glance over her shoulder, which made you feel simultaneously light-headed and weak in the knees. You stared after her, still processing, trying to shake off the ridiculous butterflies. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until she was already out of earshot.

The second she was gone, Karlach burst out laughing, dropping her head back in utter delight.

“Gods! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were spellbound yourself,” she teased, unable to wipe the grin off her face. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. Hopeless,” she declared, shaking her head at you with a mischievous gleam.

Heat flooded your face all over again as you groaned, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I know, okay? It’s…utterly hopeless,” you admitted, voice thick with defeat. Before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed her mug of beer straight from her hand and downed it in a few quick gulps, hoping it would somehow wash away the mortification you felt. Setting the empty mug down, you sighed deeply. “She didn’t even notice anything.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re very, very wrong,” Karlach countered, her smile twisting into something sly and secretive. She crossed her arms, leaning in as if sharing a precious secret. “Because she was definitely checking you out while you were showing her that spell.”

You froze, turning slowly to look at her, heart skipping a beat.

“You’re joking,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper. There was a spark of hope, ridiculous but undeniable, blooming somewhere deep in your chest.

Karlach grinned wider, shaking her head. “Oh, no. She was stealing glances at you the entire time,” she said, sounding far too pleased with herself. “She’d peek up at you just when you weren’t looking, trying to act all serious, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. You might be as oblivious, but I’ve got eyes.” She winked, patting your shoulder in encouragement.

Your mind raced, playing the whole interaction back. You remembered how Shadowheart’s gaze had lingered, her voice soft, her questions coming slower, almost careful… Could Karlach really be right? Was it possible that Shadowheart had actually been…interested?

“Maybe there’s hope after all…” you mumbled, feeling that glimmer of excitement grow.

Karlach clapped you on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking the air out of you. “There you go! Just keep stuttering and blushing—seems to be working like a charm.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess I’ll just have to keep embarrassing myself, then,” you said, grinning despite yourself.

Karlach’s laughter echoed across the camp, but her eyes held a genuine warmth as she said, “Well at least it’s a start. You’ll get there.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira's gaze was focused, unrelenting as she adjusted your grip on the scimitar. Her hands, warm and confident, guided yours over the hilt, showing you the correct angle, the precise strength you should use. Every time her hand brushed yours, you felt your heart stammer. You hoped she didn’t notice your flushed cheeks or the way your breath caught every time she leaned closer.

“Here,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. She moved to your side, adjusting the angle of your stance with the barest brush of her hand along your back. “It’s not about brute force,” she murmured, her voice so close it felt like a whisper. “It’s about control, understanding where the balance lies in every movement.”

You nodded, barely able to find your voice, managing only a stuttered, “Y-yes, of course.” But you were far more focused on her proximity than any of her advice.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Astarion lounging a few paces away, arms crossed and a devilish grin spreading across his face. He had noticed, of course—there was no hiding it from his all-too-keen gaze. Before you could silently beg him to go easy on you, he stepped closer, feigning a helpful tone.

“Stick your rear out more,” he suggested, his voice laced with amusement. “Helps with balance. And I’m sure Jaheira would agree.” He flashed you a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Your face flamed, and you shot him a withering look.

“Thanks, Astarion,” you muttered under your breath, attempting to ignore him. But his smirk only widened, and he continued to watch, pleased with himself.

Jaheira, still adjusting your stance, gave you a quick nod, oblivious to your flustered state and Astarion’s antics.

“There you go,” she said, stepping back just enough to observe your form. “Much better.” She gave a satisfied nod and went on to demonstrate a quick series of strikes, her movements fluid and sure, each slash a picture of precision and elegance.

You could barely pay attention, completely distracted by the grace with which she wielded her weapon, the easy strength in her every move. As she looked back at you, catching you gawking, you fumbled to regain focus.

“Uh—yes! Right, like that!” you stammered, hurriedly attempting to mimic her motions.

Jaheira gave a small, amused smile before nodding approvingly. “Keep practicing that sequence. It’ll help build your control.”

As she left the clearing, giving you one last nod of encouragement, you could hardly breathe. You waited until she was out of sight before collapsing against Astarion, running a hand through your hair with a groan.

“I’m hopeless,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She probably thinks I’m a complete mess.”

“Oh, she definitely does,” Astarion said, his grin impossibly smug as he gave you a playful shove. “But she won’t have to wonder about it for long.”

You shot him a look, eyebrow raised in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Astarion’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I may have left your journal in her tent. You know, the one with the little poems in the margins?” He waggled his eyebrows, feigning innocence.

Your eyes went wide, horror settling over you as you gaped at him.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, dread turning your stomach. The journal held every embarrassing thought, every scribbled confession, every starry-eyed rant about Jaheira that you hadn’t dared speak aloud.

“Oh, but I did.” Astarion’s voice was light, mocking even, but his eyes held a teasing warmth. “Look on the bright side. At least now she’ll know how much you ‘admire her scimitar technique.’ among other things..”

You shrieked in exasperation, though a traitorous part of you couldn’t help but feel the faintest spark of excitement at the idea. You shoved Astarion, who merely laughed, delighted with himself, as you stood there in helpless anticipation, wondering how you’d ever face Jaheira again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Trying to stay composed around Gale was becoming increasingly impossible. You could barely string together a coherent sentence whenever he was nearby, your cheeks burning and your heart racing so loudly you were sure he could hear it. It had gotten to the point that, during one of his magic lessons, you’d accidentally projected a very vivid thought about kissing him far into the Weave—and while he hadn’t directly addressed it, you had felt your face go scarlet the moment it happened.

Yet, despite that blunder and all your clumsy attempts to communicate the depths of your affection, Gale remained completely oblivious. And this state of suspended longing, this fruitless crush, was starting to drive you mad.

After another awkward lesson with Gale where you stumbled over your words and blushed at the mere brush of his hand over yours, you found yourself venting to Minthara, though you knew her to be an unlikely confidante. Her eyes held little sympathy, her arms crossed as she gave you a hard, skeptical look.

“Just grab the wizard and use him for your pleasure,” she suggested bluntly, as if it were the obvious solution. Her gaze was sharp and impatient. “You’re a warrior, not a blubbering fool.”

You shook your head quickly, horrified. “No, no, it’s not like that! I don’t just want him in some shallow way.” You sighed, your heart feeling tight. “I want to… to adore him. To look after him. To treasure everything about him, every small thing, every story he tells and every spell he casts. I want to worship him like he deserves.” You leaned into your words, almost forgetting who you were talking to in the rapture of your lovesick confession. “I want to make him feel like he’s the most cherished person in the world.”

Minthara recoiled as if you’d offended her sensibilities with such sentimentality, looking visibly revolted by your romantic ramblings. Her lips curled in distaste.

“By the darkness, are you even listening to yourself?” She gave an exasperated huff, then, with a roll of her eyes, she called across the camp, her voice clear as a bell. “Wizard!” she yelled, her tone commanding and fierce. “They want to go on their knees for you—are you going to do something about it, or will I have to rip out their tongue to stop their endless lovesick whining?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and before you could process the horror, Gale turned, an expression of curiosity mixed with surprise crossing his face as he started to walk over. You immediately whacked Minthara on the arm, panic rising as you whispered, “What are you doing?!”

Minthara looked at you with a smug indifference, ignoring your frantic scolding as if she’d done you the greatest favor.

“A strange way to show your gratitude,” she remarked drily, “given how much assistance I just rendered.”

By then, Gale had reached you both, his brows lifted in confusion, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“What’s all this about… someone going on their knees?” he asked, looking between you and Minthara, though his gaze lingered on you. His voice was gentle, though you could see the glimmer of curiosity—and something else—in his eyes.

You shot Minthara a glare, your face flaming, then took a steadying breath, turning to Gale.

“I—um,” you stammered, realizing there was no dignified way to explain this away. “I think… what Minthara was so eloquently trying to say is that I… might, uh, harbor feelings for you.” You paused, swallowing. “Quite a few of them, actually.”

Gale’s face softened, and a warm smile played at his lips, his hand reaching to touch yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice dipping low, “it’s wonderful to know I’m not the only one who’s felt that spark.”

Minthara turned away, clearly satisfied, muttering something about lesser beings and their foolish emotions, but you hardly noticed her departure as your heart beat out of your touch, your greatest fantasies finally coming true.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

Dinner had been an ordeal. Astarion sat beside you, closer than usual, his presence a tangible, almost overwhelming warmth. Every time he reached for something or murmured a comment, you felt yourself freeze, stumbling over your responses, blushing so furiously you’d started to worry it was noticeable. You could barely bring yourself to eat, much less speak, and by the end of the meal, you were sure you’d only embarrassed yourself.

That might have been manageable if it ended there. But just hours later, as the party approached a fortress with heavy guards stationed at the gates, Astarion took the lead, slipping into his charming, roguish element. He approached the security with a smooth, confident swagger, flashing that insouciant smile of his, every word a practiced melody of flattery and wit. He left them captivated, helpless to deny him as he led the party in with ease, his charm so intoxicating it almost felt like magic.

And while the others chuckled at his skillful maneuvering, you felt an unexpected ache in your chest. Watching him sway them so effortlessly stirred a pang of jealousy you hadn’t expected. Did he even notice the way you pined for him? The way every stray touch or knowing look from him seemed to linger long after he’d moved on?

Caught in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Gale was watching you with a raised brow. He leaned over, studying your expression with mild amusement and maybe a bit of pity.

“You look,” he began in a soft murmur, “like someone just killed a displacer kitten right in front of you.”

Startled, you forced a tight smile, trying to wave him off. “It’s nothing, Gale.”

“Nothing?” He crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Please, you’ve been fawning over Astarion for ages now, your heart practically on display.”

There was a pause as you grappled with the admission, your face heating up, but at last, the dam broke, and you began to pour out your feelings in a quiet, hushed ramble.

“It’s just… my heart beats for him, Gale. Every time he speaks, I hang on his every word. I want nothing more than to just reach over, brush his hair back, and listen to him talk about all his little grievances—his so-called ‘inconveniences,’ his charms, all of it.”

Gale nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. And then his lips curled into a wry smile as he leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, I suppose your dilemma is solved, then.”

Confused, you blinked, feeling a twist of dread. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” he said, chuckling, “just that you happened to be projecting that over the tadpole connection. Quite eloquently, I might add. The entire party heard every word by my predictions.”

You froze, horror dawning as you processed what Gale had just said. Every word, you realized, echoing faintly through the magical thread you shared. You dared a glance at the others, only to see Karlach giving you an encouraging thumbs-up and Shadowheart hiding a smirk behind her hand.

Then, to your ultimate mortification, Astarion strolled past, pausing just long enough to catch your eye. A sly grin played on his lips as he gave you a long, lingering look, his gaze glinting with amusement.

“Not to worry, darling,” he murmured, a teasing warmth in his voice, “I have plenty of inconveniences—and a few conveniences—to tell you all about. Shall we start tonight?”

His words sent a rush of heat up your spine, leaving you speechless as he gave a little wave, disappearing down the hallway. Gale patted your shoulder with a grin.

“See?” he said cheerfully. “All handled.”

You were left rooted to the spot, barely able to breathe, knowing that somehow you’d been caught, exposed—and that Astarion was, indeed, fully aware of the fact that your heart belonged to him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Wyll’s presence seemed to have a gravitational pull all its own. Every time he smiled at you, every chivalrous gesture—offering his hand to help you up a steep path, or casually brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face—felt like a dream. A warmth filled your chest, so intense you could hardly look him in the eye, your words dissolving into stammered half-thoughts that trailed into silence. Each interaction left you breathless, embarrassed, and wondering if maybe, just maybe, he noticed how flustered he made you.

Training, however, was another story. Lae’zel was as intense as ever, barely giving you time to catch your breath between strikes. She was quick, sharp, and relentless, and it would have been more manageable—if you could actually focus. But each time she demanded your attention, your eyes kept wandering back to Wyll, who was a few feet away, talking to Shadowheart as he polished his sword. The way he moved, the way he spoke, that disarmingly warm smile…

It was only a matter of time before Lae'zel had enough.

She stepped back, arms crossed, leveling you with a look that could freeze lava.

“You’re distracted. Useless,” she declared, throwing down her sword with an exasperated sigh. “You pine like a hatchling, and it disrupts our sparring.”

You flushed, scrambling to come up with an excuse, but Lae’zel was already stomping off toward Wyll. You moved to intercept her, knowing she was the absolute last person who should reveal any of this. “Wait—Lae’zel, don’t!”

Lae’zel ignored you, her voice booming as she closed in on a bewildered Wyll.

“You,” she pointed at him, “this one wants to share their body with you.”

Wyll blinked, his eyes widening as he looked between you and Lae’zel, clearly trying to make sense of what she’d just said.

“I—what?” He looked at you, a blush rising to his cheeks as he fumbled for words. “I mean, I didn’t—wasn’t aware—”

Mortified, you didn’t think, you just acted, flinging yourself at Lae’zel with a force you hadn’t known you possessed. You tackled her to the ground, landing with a clumsy thud, and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Not…what I meant!” you stammered, trying to laugh it off to Wyll, who was still looking down at the both of you in complete bafflement. “What she means is—uh, we’re just, um, sparring partners! She’s…dramatic.”

Lae’zel raised an eyebrow, and with her typical stoicism, she bit down—hard—on the hand you’d used to cover her mouth. You yelped, jerking your hand back, and Lae’zel smirked, a silent satisfaction in her gaze as she sat up, looking entirely unapologetic.

Wyll was still staring, one eyebrow raised, lips quirking slightly in what looked like a restrained grin.

“I’m… not entirely sure I understand what’s going on here,” he said, his eyes bright with amusement. “But whatever it is, I’m flattered.”

You scrambled to your feet, rubbing your bitten hand, and tried to put together a coherent explanation, but every time you met his gaze, words seemed to fail you.

“Well… right,” you mumbled, feeling heat rise to your face as you threw a quick glare at Lae’zel, who simply shrugged, as if completely innocent of any wrongdoing.

Wyll’s expression softened as he watched you struggle to speak, and he smiled gently.

“It’s alright,” he said, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you and Lae'zel.”

That simple gesture—his kindness, the warmth in his voice—made you feel as if you’d forgotten how to breathe. You managed a nod, barely holding onto your composure, while he looked at you with that disarming sincerity that always left you reeling.

Lae’zel, watching the exchange with an air of smug victory, dusted herself off. “There. See? Problem solved. Now maybe you’ll stop sparring like a weakling.”

You shot her a glare, but Wyll chuckled softly, meeting your eyes with a spark of curiosity.

“If you ever want to train together,” he said, his voice low and warm, “you need only ask.”

And with that, he gave you a wink, leaving you in a breathless, heart-pounding daze as he walked back to his gear.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Every time you were around Halsin, it was like the ground slipped out from beneath you. His voice, that low, warm rumble, made your heart pound, and every casual touch seemed to ignite sparks across your skin. He was utterly unaware, of course; his gentle smiles and steady hands never betrayed a hint of understanding that he sent you reeling. You were sure that was the only reason you hadn’t completely given yourself away.

So when you returned to camp with an injury—a jagged cut on your arm from a goblin's arrow—you hoped it might go unnoticed. Shadowheart was busy, deep in her meditation as she restored her energy, and you thought you could handle the wound alone. But Jaheira spotted the blood trailing down your arm almost immediately. She arched a brow, her eyes flashing with a mix of annoyance and amusement as she approached.

“Let’s have a look,” she said, but as she examined your arm, she shook her head with a soft sigh. “This needs a proper healer. Come on.”

Before you could protest, she’d already begun steering you toward Halsin’s corner of camp. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and a familiar warmth crept up your face. “Jaheira, no, really, I’m fine. It’s not even that deep. You could probably just—”

“Are you afraid of a little attention from the First Druid?” she teased, smirking as you stammered. “If you’re so sure you can handle it alone, why is your face turning as red as a blood hawk?”

You barely managed a protest before she’d called out to Halsin, who looked up from his work, his eyes sharpening with concern the moment he saw the blood seeping through your sleeve.

“Come here,” he said, his voice a blend of calm authority and quiet worry. He rose to meet you, his eyes never leaving the wound as he reached out, guiding you to sit down on a low stool beside him. His hands were warm, gentle but firm, and you felt heat flush up your neck and into your cheeks as he examined the wound.

Jaheira, leaning against a tent post with her arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with an amused glint in her eyes, a smile curving her lips as you struggled to steady your breathing. But Halsin didn’t notice; his focus was fully on your arm, his brow furrowed with concentration as his fingers brushed softly along the edges of the wound, checking its depth.

“It isn’t too deep,” he murmured in his gentle, rumbling voice. “But we don’t want to risk infection. I’ll clean it and make a poultice to help it heal.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the feeling of his hands—steady, reassuring, and just a little too close—sent your mind reeling. “Y-yes, of course. Whatever you think is best.”

Halsin gave you a soft smile, the kind that seemed to reach into your chest and make your heart skip.

“Are you feeling alright otherwise? You look a bit flushed.” His eyes studied your face, brow creased in genuine concern. “Are you feverish?”

You blinked, thrown off by the question, and felt your face grow impossibly hotter. “No! No, not at all. I’m… I’m perfectly fine. Really. Just, um… It’s just… the wound.”

Jaheira couldn’t contain her amusement any longer; she snorted softly and rolled her eyes, muttering, “It’s certainly not the wound that has you blushing.”

You shot her a quick, desperate glare, but she only smirked, clearly enjoying your struggle.

“A shame that our healer here clearly can’t see that particular ailment,” she added, just loud enough for you to hear.

Halsin looked between you and Jaheira, a slight confusion flickering in his eyes before he turned back to you with a gentle, almost affectionate smile. “Well, you should rest nonetheless. Even a small wound can bring on a fever if not treated with care.”

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his thumb tracing light circles just above your collarbone as if to soothe you. It was a simple, instinctive gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth through you, and you fought the urge to lean into his touch, to linger in the quiet strength he offered.

“Let me just…” His voice was soft, his attention focused on preparing the poultice as he worked with deft hands. But every so often, he’d glance up, catching your gaze with that calm, reassuring smile that made your heart race all over again.

Beside you, Jaheira leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He truly has no idea, does he?”

You felt a flicker of panic, but there was no use hiding it now. You muttered, barely audible, “Not the faintest clue.”

She chuckled, shaking her head with a mix of sympathy and sarcasm. “To be fair, you’re not making it particularly obvious.”

Before you could retort, Halsin returned with the poultice, carefully applying it to your wound with practiced gentleness. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin, his hands steady and warm, sent another wave of nervous energy through you. He worked in silence for a moment, his gaze focused, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

“There,” he said softly, finishing the bandage. “That should hold for now. And I’ll make more of the poultice tonight to ensure it heals properly.”

You managed a shaky nod, trying to form words but only managing a faint, “Th-thank you.”

Halsin’s smile deepened, and he placed a final, reassuring hand on your arm. “It’s my pleasure to help. But if you do start feeling feverish, promise you’ll come to me immediately.”

“Yes. Of course,” you stammered, hardly able to meet his gaze. Jaheira watched you, her smile widening as she shook her head in mock exasperation.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re sick with something,” she muttered, just loud enough for Halsin to hear.

Halsin’s brow furrowed in mild concern, and he tilted his head toward her, curious. “Sick with what, precisely?”

You shot Jaheira a desperate look, but she only shrugged, that teasing glint in her eye.

“Nothing a nice cold dip in the river can't fix.,” she said, her voice laced with amusement as she turned to walk away, leaving you to face Halsin’s warm, questioning gaze.

“If you’re certain you’re well…” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your hand in a final gesture of reassurance before he let go. “But do take it easy tonight. I’ll check in on you later, just to be sure.”

As he stood and walked away, you sat there, still reeling, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. You wanted to stay in that moment forever. Perhaps during his check in later, you would actually do something about it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was actually so cute to write aha, I hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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[oddlylovingaddiction]

What Clark Kent (Superman) as a your yandere would be like…

Tw: Morally bad behaviour and stuff that nobody should do, and if you catch a guy doing this beat him call the cops.

Yandere Clark Kent is probably the best (worst??) yandere because no way are you ever catching his ass.

He definitely fell for you in his civilian form. I think he accidentally saw you committing a single kind act, like let’s say you pet a stray animal, helped an old lady cross the street, comforted a crying child or something else entirely and that’s how he first got hooked. He won’t immediately become a yandere but after a phew months of just being aware of you as a person, his obsession would escalate.

Good thing about Clark is his love for humanity. He will definitely not cross your boundaries. Tell him you don’t like being hugged or kissed a certain way? Done. He’s definitely not one to force you to do what you don’t want. He also won’t isolate you from friends or family instead he chooses to win them over.

However…. He definitely will create situations where you’re required to get close to him. Great example is that he’ll befriend you and then one day, your apartment gets suddenly shut down because turns out the landlord was actually a criminal and when you go to your friends or family to stay with them for a bit while you get your shit together, they all coincidently have reasons they can’t let you stay until the last one your left to turn to is him. During the time you stay with him he’ll definitely turn the charm to the MAX. For example, First thing you wake up to is the smell of cooking in the morning, and he’ll serve you your favourite breakfast but he will act like he had no idea it was your favourite.

He uses super hearing a lot to collect information on your likes and dislikes, also because when he goes to sleep at night he likes to hear your heartbeat as he falls asleep it soothes him. He also uses his powers to protect you from danger, walking home alone in the dark? He’ll eliminate any threat.

When you finally get together, he’ll be the most perfect boyfriend ever. Absolute gentleman. He’ll also be an absolute fool in love, you’ll catch him just occasionally staring at you like you’re the most beautiful sunset. he’ll sometimes randomly grab your hand to kiss it.

I think he’d finally tell you he was Superman when you both are cuddled up in bed. “My love… I have something to confess, but I need you to swear on the moon and stars you won’t tell a soul.” He’d probably say, making you super nervous because it sounds like he committed a murder or something. “I’m Superman.” To which you’d laugh like a maniac. You’d know if your boyfriend was superman right?! Besides your lovely boyfriend couldn’t be— then he steps out of bed and lifts the entire bed up with you on it with one hand. Without struggling.

Shit your boyfriend is superman.

That definitely took some time to process and to talk about your future together, however you ultimately decide to stay with him. Thank god really because if you chose to break up with him… he won’t do anything. he’d just make sure you never date anyone else, Like your newest date suddenly cancelled because of a leak in his house or something that type of thing if you broke up. Cause if you ain’t dating him you dating NO ONE LOL.

Once he tells you he’s superman he’ll definitely propose. But he’ll be superrrr particular about it. Like he’ll measure your finger just right, get your dream ring (screw the cost, if he can’t buy it, he’ll just become a welder and make it for you.), he’ll plan the perfect spot etc.

“I never knew I would fall so deeply in love with someone, to the point where if you were to disappear it would be like the sun had stopped shining. That’s how much I love you, you’re my sun. my dear, will you please marry me?”

Bro starts crying when you say yes like he didn’t expect you to say yes to the most jaw dropping proposal ever. He still picks you up and hugs you gently when you do though…

The wedding is also perfect by the way, he makes sure every step of the way it’s the perfect wedding for the both of you. He’ll make sure nothing is too overwhelming for you and is always agreeable. If something makes you anxious he’ll remind you “I don’t care how the wedding will be as long as I marry you. I’d marry you in the middle of a desert.”

NSFW and mention of pregnancy but it’s short & optional UNDER CUT

By the way for your first night after you get married… save your stamina up. Best advice because he’s showing all his possessive sides, he’ll growl in your ear when putting you into the meanest mating press, “Who’s your husband.” To which you’ll be forced to scream out his name over and over again. He’ll keep fucking you until the sun comes up.

And if you can (and want to duh.) get pregnant do expect to be having to take a phew tests in a phew weeks.

[innerfare]

Blue Balls - Law: Part 1

Summary: Law ends up with a case of blue balls; text below the cut

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: dirty talk

Word Count: 954

———

In a rare moment alone aboard the Polar Tang, Law had you pinned to the metal wall. He hadn’t had the patience to drag you back to his quarters, coming on to you right there in the hallway and caging you with his larger body, a muscular thigh between your legs. Looking down at you, at your pretty face and the swell of your breasts, he couldn’t figure out how he had gone so long without his sweet, sweet girl. 

You’d been gone for three weeks, and in the seven days you had been back, almost every night there had been something keeping you from his cabin- an extra late night at the tavern with the crew, falling asleep with some of the others in a common area- and by extension, something keeping you from his bed. 

The days were no better. 

The crew had missed you as much as he had, and it showed in the way they were clinging to you. Anytime he thought you might get a moment alone, even to exchange a few soft, private, intimate words, a crew member interrupted with a dumb question or an even dumber joke, asked you to once again regale them with a story from your time away, or insisted you sit beside them rather than him. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Come on, y/n-ah,” he said in that deep voice of his, soft but firm. “We don’t have time to fool around.” He wanted you to unbutton his black shirt. He wanted you to run your cold little hands up and down his tanned abdomen, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth and getting a little shy as you admired his muscles. He wanted you to do what you always did, but you were toying with him, playing with his earrings and tapping his nose. 

“What’s the rush?” You asked, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “I won’t be leaving again anytime soon. Besides, I thought you wanted to fool around.” You had been only a little bit aware of the burning looks your boyfriend had been shooting you from across the room, teasing him a little but ultimately too caught up in the chaos of your return to do much about it. 

Law let out a heavy sigh. Arm braced against the wall, he leaned his forehead against it and screwed his eyes shut, the tension in his body almost too much to bear, the only thing worse than that the embarrassment of it. “I can’t believe I have to explain this to you.” 

“Explain what to me?” 

“It’s been four weeks, y/n-ah. Four weeks.” 

“I know that, Law. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, y/n. But that’s not the point.” The strain in his voice made him sound almost as pathetic as he felt, the vein in his neck twitching. 

You wanted to reach up and kiss that vein, then bite down on it while your fingers undid the buttons of his black shirt- your favorite on him. But the only thing you enjoyed more than doing that was watching him unbutton the shirt himself, absolutely pissed that you made him beg like some sort of slave. 

He was a man, he would snap at you, not a dog. 

And yet, he came when called. 

“I can tell you missed me, Law.” You shifted, pushing yourself down on the leg he had between your thighs. 

Law made a sound he tried to swallow, but you knew that sound all too well. 

“What’s wrong? Couldn’t get yourself off while I was gone? Surely you’re a little more capable than that, Dr. Law.” 

He peeled his eyes open and lifted his head from his arm, glaring down at you. “Do not call me that.” 

“What?” You pouted. “You love it when I call you doctor.” 

“That’s why you shouldn’t do it.” His eyes almost burned a hole in you. 

You could feel the heat rolling off of him. When he pushed his erection into you, you swore you felt it pulsing. 

“Semen retention is-” 

“Please,” you interrupted, “spare me the lecture on semen retention, Law. I’ve only had to listen to it a thousand times.” 

“Three times,” he argued. “You’ve had to listen to it three times. Each time because you thought it was funny to get me to the edge and then leave me hanging.” 

“It’s called teasing, Dr. Law, and it’s half the fun.” 

“Well, I don’t think it’s fun.” 

“You don’t think anything’s fun.” 

“That’s not true.” He actually pouted a little bit, and it was that expression on his face that had you wracked with guilt. Your poor captain had spent four weeks alone. Twenty-eight full nights without the woman he called his secret medicine- emphasis on secret. 

Just then, the sound of voices drifted around the corner. Two of the crew members were approaching- Penguin and Shachi, from the sounds of it. 

Law went tense, his body as hard and rigid as the walls of the submarine. 

He was supposed to pull away. He was supposed to jump back and straighten his clothes. He was supposed to start a casual conversation with you and hope neither Penguin nor Shachi noticed his raging hard on. But that raging hard on made it impossible. He couldn’t pry himself off of you, not when he was so close, not when he could smell your apple-flavored shampoo and feel your skin, soft like rose petals, and press his throbbing cock into your body. 

“Come on,” you conceded. “Let’s go to your cabin.” 

He melted. “Really?” 

“Yes, really.” You pushed him off, sliding your hand into his. “But be quick about it. You’re not the only one who’s gone four weeks without sex.” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! You can read Part 2 here! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[weneeya]

pure adoration m.list | rules

pairing. dick grayson x reader

note. fluff and soft stuff in delivery! love him sm i couldn't help it so there you go :)

Dick was a fool for you, and everyone knew it pretty well. You could have done absolutely anything, even the worst thing possible, he would have found a way to defend you. In his eyes, you couldn’t do anything bad. You were too perfect for that. The prettiest girl he ever saw, the smartest he ever talked to ; you had the qualities a human could have and even more. It was easy to say that Dick was putting you on a pedestal. 

To his defense, you were actually really sweet. The type of person who helps others without asking for something in return, even if you had quite your own character. You weren’t afraid to say what was wrong, and if you had to fight, then you would never step back. You were everything Dick could dream of, even if your friends saw you as a pitbull sometimes. 

Dick didn’t have the bravery to ask you out on a real date. Yes, the Nightwing himself was scared of rejection from the girl he could have died for. So he kept on inviting you to go out together but always as friends and nothing more. Sometimes, he even told you to bring other people to not make it too weird ; even if he only had eyes for you. 

This time, it was only the two of you. You were sitting in front of him in the coffee shop, your hot drink between your hands as you were talking. He wasn’t sure if he was still listening to what you were saying or if the sound of your voice was simply soothing his mind ; but his gaze didn’t leave your face for a second. His cheek was resting in the palm of his hand and his eyes were observing every detail of your face. 

Suddenly, you stopped talking and it got him out of his thoughts almost immediately. “Is something wrong?” He asked you the second after, a hint of worry in his eyes. You sighed slowly as you looked away. “Sorry, I talk too much.” You told him and he swore he never saw you like this before. Who ever told you that? Not him, that was for sure, because he could have listened to you talking forever. Dick grabbed your hand in a gentle move, stroking the back of it. 

You met his eyes again, and you felt your heart skipping a beat at the look he was giving you. Since when did he look at you with so much adoration? You were sure you never noticed it before, but you couldn’t ignore it now. “It’s never too much. Please, talk all you want. I’ll listen anyway.” The soft smile that appeared on his lips after his words could have brought the tears to your eyes if you weren’t fighting them. Your grip on his hand slightly tightened before you nodded softly. 

“Thanks Dick,” you told him, and he left a kiss on the back of your hand as an answer. It caught you off guard, and you had some trouble going back to what you were saying after that. If one thing was sure, you wouldn’t be able to forget this look in his eyes for a while. 

After that day, you noticed all the little things that Dick was doing toward you, and you felt dumb for not noticing what was going on earlier. How he was always complimenting you on what you were doing, or how he always made sure that you were feeling comfortable about everything. He kept on taking care of you without being too intrusive and it broke your heart to think that he was probably sure that his feelings weren’t mutual. 

This is why you decided to talk to him. You asked him to come over at your place, and this is how you ended up sitting on your couch together. Dick looked at you, a bit worried. He could feel that something was off, but he didn’t know what it was. “You wanted to tell me something?” He asked, and you quickly nodded, turning around to face him. 

“Listen, I’ve thought a lot. About everything, but mostly about us, and we can’t…” He didn’t let you finish, his voice going out a bit more desperate than what he thought. “Did I go too far? I’m sorry, I’ll stop. But please, please don’t leave.” He took your hands between his and you didn’t expect this reaction from him. You slowly put your hand on his cheek, stroking it gently. 

“Hey, hey. Calm down, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice was so soft, like sweet music to his ears. He melted onto your touch, looking in your eyes as he waited for you to keep going with what you wanted to say. “I wanted to say that we can’t keep going like that, because I can’t stay your friend.” His grip on your hand got a little tighter but your gentle smile calmed all his worries. 

“I like more than that, Dick. And if you let me, I’d love to be more than your friend.” He was sure that he felt his heart stopping into his chest when you stopped talking. It was a dream, it couldn’t be otherwise. There was no way you were really saying those words to him. “Really..? You really want to be… my girlfriend?” He asked, and you only answered with a nod. 

You didn’t have the chance to say anything because Dick cupped your face with his hands so his lips could meet yours. It was so sweet, your lips feeling like honey against his own. When he let you go, you were quickly stuck into his embrace. He was holding you tightly, nose in your hair. “I’ll make you the happiest girl on Earth, just like you’re making me the happiest man alive.” His eyes met yours right after that, and the smile on his lips made your stomach do a flip. He really seemed to be the happiest right now. 

You sure took your sweet time to realize your own feelings, but now, you knew that nothing could make them disappear.

thanks for reading <3

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Serpents' Courtship

Pairing: Slytherin Boys x reader

Warnings : Fluff

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy! Please do tell me who you would like to see win out of all of the boys and I’ll even make them a fanfiction for that!

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The cold, damp air of the dungeons made your fingers ache as you leaned over your bubbling cauldron. Professor Slughorn was making his rounds, praising students whose potions had even a glimmer of hope, but his attention lingered on yours longer than anyone else’s.

“Absolutely splendid, my dear,” Slughorn beamed, clasping his hands together. The silver sheen of your Draught of Peace glimmered in the dim light, the perfect consistency and color glowing faintly as if it were enchanted.

From the back of the room, you felt eyes on you—sharp, calculating gazes that made your skin prickle. You dared to glance up and were met with the piercing stares of the Slytherin boys.

---

The first to approach you was Theodore. You were in the library the following evening, poring over an advanced Charms textbook when he silently slid into the seat across from you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, already setting his books down. His tone was low, calm, as though he already knew the answer.

“Not at all,” you replied, though you were hyper-aware of his presence.

For a while, he didn’t speak, letting the sound of quills scratching parchment fill the space between you. Just when you thought he’d forgotten you entirely, he looked up, his pale blue eyes catching yours.

“You’re meticulous,” he said simply.

You blinked, unsure how to respond.

“Your potion,” he clarified. “I’ve seen Slughorn praise students before, but never like that. You impressed him—and me.”

The warmth in your chest was immediate, but before you could thank him, he pushed a book toward you. “I thought you might find this useful. There’s a section on advanced brewing techniques.”

He left without another word, leaving you flustered and curious.

---

The next morning, as you left Transfiguration, Lorenzo Berkshire caught up to you with a lazy grin.

“So,” he began, falling into step beside you, “how does it feel to be the center of attention?”

You gave him a sideways glance. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy,” he teased, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “Half the Slytherin house can’t stop talking about you. Though I suppose I can’t blame them.”

His smile was dazzling, the kind that could charm a professor into giving him an extension. “But between you and me, I think they’re all wasting their time. You seem like someone who prefers a bit of excitement.”

“Excitement?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

“Something more daring than dusty books and dungeons. How about a late-night adventure? The Forbidden Forest, perhaps?”

“Is that even allowed?” you asked, your voice tinged with both disbelief and curiosity.

Lorenzo leaned closer, his grin widening. “Who said anything about allowed?”

---

Draco Malfoy didn’t bother with subtlety. You were heading toward the Great Hall when he appeared in your path, his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Walk with me,” he commanded, not waiting for your response before falling into step beside you.

“Is there something you need, Malfoy?” you asked, slightly annoyed.

He tilted his head, his pale hair catching the torchlight. “Just wondering why you’re wasting time with the likes of Nott and Berkshire. They’re amateurs.”

“And you’re not?” you challenged.

Draco chuckled, the sound low and confident. “I know how to treat someone like you. Dinner in the Room of Requirement tomorrow night. Just us. No interruptions.”

His tone left no room for argument, but before you could respond, a familiar, velvety voice interrupted.

---

“Don’t let him fool you,” Blaise said, appearing at your other side. “Malfoy’s idea of romance is showing off his Gringotts vault.”

Draco scowled. “Jealous, Zabini?”

Blaise ignored him, his dark eyes fixed on you. “You deserve better than pomp and arrogance. A private evening under the stars, with good wine and even better company. That’s more your style, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Blaise cut you off with a small smile. “Think about it. You’ll know where to find me.”

Draco muttered something under his breath, but Blaise simply walked away, his effortless confidence leaving you flustered.

---

Matteo’s approach came during Defense Against the Dark Arts. The class had barely ended when he turned to you, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I hear you’re quite talented,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“An invitation,” he corrected. “A duel. You against me. Unless you’re afraid, of course.”

“Why would I agree to that?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Matteo smirked. “Because you like a challenge. And because it’s the only way you’ll see me at the Yule Ball.”

---

Tom’s approach was the most unnerving. He didn’t confront you in public or send notes like the others. Instead, he cornered you in the library late one evening, his presence overwhelming.

“You’re wasting your time with them,” he said, his voice soft but commanding.

“And you think you’re a better option?” you replied, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

Tom’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I don’t compete. They chase you because they’re afraid to lose. I know that you’ll come to me—eventually.”

There was no malice in his tone, only cold certainty. He stepped closer, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You’re extraordinary. Don’t settle for anything less.”

---

The evening of the Yule Ball arrived, and with it came six invitations—each more elaborate than the last.

Draco sent enchanted roses that filled your dormitory with their delicate fragrance. Blaise delivered a handwritten note promising an evening of elegance. Lorenzo caught you in the common room with a charming grin and an invitation to dance under the stars. Matteo challenged you to a duel, claiming he wouldn’t attend unless you bested him. Theodore left a rare book with a simple, heartfelt invitation tucked inside. And Tom? He didn’t send anything. He simply waited, confident you’d choose him.

As you stood before the mirror, smoothing the fabric of your dress robes, you realized that the choice wasn’t about them. It was about you—what you wanted, who you trusted, and where your heart truly lay.

——

The air buzzed with excitement as you descended the staircase to the Great Hall, your dress robes shimmering under the flickering light of the enchanted candles above. The Yule Ball was in full swing, music echoing off the high ceilings and laughter spilling across the floor. Yet, despite the festive atmosphere, you could feel the weight of six pairs of eyes on you.

Each of them stood in different corners of the hall, waiting, calculating. You weren’t sure if it was rivalry, pride, or something more genuine that had driven them to this point, but tonight was their stage, and you were the star.

You took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of your gown. If they wanted your attention, they’d get it—each and every one of them.

---

The first to approach was Theodore, who appeared beside you with a quiet, composed demeanor. His hand extended toward you, palm up, his pale blue eyes never leaving yours.

"May I have the honor of the first dance?" he asked, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret between the two of you.

You nodded, placing your hand in his. His grip was steady but gentle, and as he led you onto the floor, you couldn’t help but admire the quiet confidence in his movements.

“I hope you’re not overwhelmed,” he murmured, guiding you through the steps of a slow waltz.

“A little,” you admitted, meeting his gaze.

He gave a small, rare smile. “You have nothing to prove. Just enjoy the moment.”

His words were reassuring, but before the song could end, someone else stepped in.

---

“Mind if I cut in?” Lorenzo’s voice interrupted, his grin wide and unapologetic as he tapped Theodore on the shoulder.

Theodore gave you a look, as if asking for your permission. You nodded, and Lorenzo took your hand without hesitation, spinning you away in a flurry of movement.

“Did Theo bore you yet?” he teased, his steps quick and playful.

“Not at all,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

“Good,” Lorenzo replied, his smile softening. “But I think you need a little more excitement.”

He twirled you dramatically, making you laugh louder, and for a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Until, of course, Draco appeared.

---

“That’s enough, Berkshire,” Draco said, his tone clipped as he stepped between you and Lorenzo.

Lorenzo raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin remained. “All yours, Malfoy.”

Draco didn’t waste time, taking your hand and leading you into the next dance with practiced precision. His movements were sharp, almost mechanical, but his silver eyes burned with intensity.

“They’re all playing games,” he said, his voice low and close to your ear. “But I mean what I say. You deserve someone who can give you everything.”

His confidence was almost overwhelming, but before you could respond, Blaise appeared at your side.

---

“Malfoy,” Blaise said, his voice calm but firm, “you’ve had your turn.”

Draco glared but didn’t argue, stepping back reluctantly as Blaise took your hand.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Blaise said, his voice as smooth as velvet as he guided you across the floor.

His movements were unhurried, graceful, and you couldn’t help but feel at ease in his presence.

“You’ve had a lot of attention tonight,” Blaise remarked, his lips curling into a small smile. “But I hope you know none of it is empty.”

His words lingered in your mind, even as Matteo interrupted with a sly grin.

---

“Careful, Zabini,” Matteo said, his tone laced with amusement as he slid into the dance. “You’ll put her to sleep with all that smooth talk.”

Blaise rolled his eyes but stepped back, leaving you in Matteo’s capable hands.

“You’re surprisingly popular tonight,” Matteo said, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as he spun you around. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Did I?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Matteo laughed, the sound rich and full of life. “You’re clever enough to know. But tell me, which of us has impressed you the most?”

Before you could answer, a familiar, quiet presence appeared.

---

“Matteo,” Tom said, his voice soft yet commanding, “your time is up.”

Matteo sighed but didn’t argue, stepping back with a bow. “All yours, Riddle.”

Tom’s hand found yours, his touch firm but not unkind. As he led you into the final dance, his presence seemed to envelop you entirely.

“You’ve humored them long enough,” he said, his voice low. “But you know none of them can offer you what I can.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, your heart racing.

“Greatness,” he replied, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “The kind that changes the world.”

---

The music slowed, and the dance ended, leaving you standing at the center of the floor with all six boys watching you. Each of them had something unique to offer—Theodore’s quiet support, Lorenzo’s playful charm, Draco’s confidence, Blaise’s effortless grace, Matteo’s boldness, and Tom’s magnetic pull.

But tonight wasn’t just about them. It was about you, and you held the power in your hands.

The question was, who would you choose? Or would you let the night remain as it was—a fleeting moment of attention from the most ambitious boys in Slytherin?

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! – Midnight💜

[fortunapre]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 ⸻ Percy Jackson

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- real enemies don’t fall in love. Percy and You have fought for ages and nothings going to stop you now. At least, not in this story, or this chapter. real enemies don’t fall in love…right?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- violence, depictions of anger/hatred, blood (barely), i’m hoping to make more parts yes yes yes

“Oh my gods, all I need is one kiss and I think I'd be set for life,” the girl next to me whispered. Her eyes were dreamily trained on the boy sitting a few tables away; Posiden’s prodigal son. Ever since he showed up a couple years ago and started basically saving the world, everyone-boys and girls alike- have grown celebrity crushes. “Just look at him! Even if he just let me touch his bicep or something, I’d die a happy girl.”

You, on the other hand, have been immune to this Percy-Obsession that’s been floating around. Sure, he’s got that cool guy thing going for him, but you know him better than to fall for that facade.

“Don’t you think so?,” she turned her question to you now, and definitely expected you to agree like another love struck fool. “Do you think I have a chance? Maybe I should go ask-“

“Could we maybe move on to another topic?” You interrupted her. At first you tried to be subtle about your annoyance, but eventually let it get the best of you with a sharp tone. “I mean, you’ve talked about Percy “Perfect” Jackson literally every day. Is there not anything else?” Now your voice was getting louder, unbeknownst to you. “Gods, I mean, use your brain! Is he actually the only thing you think about? He’s just a people pleaser with a big ego.”

“And how would you know that?” the girl asked, “Have you ever even spoken to him?”

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head at this stupid argument. “Please, your just defending Percy for no other reason than the fact that he’s hot.” You scoffed and quickly got up to dump your food in the fire, completely tired of this idiocracy when a deep voice spoke up behind you.

“And that’s just one of the many admirable qualities you somehow still fail to acknowledge."

Behind you stood Mr. Perfectly Fine himself. His hair was messy and sticking out in a way that looked almost too good. He had the slight smirk on his lips that people swore could make anyone bow to him.

After catching your breath at the sudden encounter, you scrunched your eyebrows in disbelief and walked away, but not without shoving his shoulder on the way. “Make sure to add ‘eavesdropper’ and ‘nosy’ to that list.”

Percy followed you slowly, not taking the hint. He had his hands in his front jeans pockets, and switched from his infamous smirk to poking his tongue inside his cheek- a tell that you were getting to him.

“Your just jealous I beat you at the last game, and, hey. it’s ok.” He stood on the other side of the fire as you scraped your leftovers into the flames, wishing the fire would swallow him instead— burn him away so with the imprint he’s left on everything. You purposefully scraped your fork louder and louder to try and cover up the sound of Percy’s teasing. Teasing that you were unfortunately all too familiar with.

Your hatred for Percy didn’t fester without reason. No, there’s definitely a reason: a reason the whole camp watched each of your encounters with eager eyes, always scared or intrigued. They all expected a bloodbath that would soon come— one of these times, a slip of the younger wont be a good enough excuse to the other.

The fued started around a year ago, when you and Percy were paired in a swordfight dual. The fight lasted longer than anyone else’s in Camp Half Blood history, according to Chiron. You were matched in strength, power, and wit. Brighter won not lost, which therefore bore a rivalry so deep-rooted that the Gods on Mt. Olympus fought over sending you to Tartarus as teenagers. Since then, you’ve simply fought on opposite sides whenever it was possible, to beat the other at absolutely anything: from childish food fights to the Gauntlet, it was you vs. him from then on.

His mention of the last game, that you unfortunately lost, (You: 16, Percy: 17), made you grow angry. For a while now, anger has become a. prominent emotion and has even fogged your mind at times. The thoughts that encircle your mind while in the presence of Perseus Jackson could only be described as pure, unfiltered Wrath.

That stupid, stuck up, egotistical, dam fu-

“You gonna keep staring daggers at me or say it to my face for once, pretty girl?” His voice cut through your thoughts. He still stood before you, face illuminated by the flames, the orage light licking his jawline, and casting a sharp shadow. You tore your eyes away with a huff and turned away.

“Why do you talk to me. You know I have nothing good to say to you.” You answered, trying to walk away but he kept following behind.

You walked with heavy footsteps towards the center of camp where you’d accidentally left your sword from an earlier mock-battle.

He trailed behind, too close for comfort.

“Honestly?” he asked in response tp your earlier question.

Slightly hidden between a large tree and a building, you caught the golden glint of your sword. With skill, you pounced for it, grabbed ahold of the hilt and turned on Percy. You had wanted to catch him off guard and hopefully vulnerable by the sound of his voice earlier. You were wrong.

He was ready, and with precision, knocked your sword out of your hand with a maneuver you were only taught today. He held his own sword (Riptide) close enough from your neck to be intimidating but not deadly.

“I like getting you riled up.” He finished his earlier statement, answering yours. He held you close with the edge of his blade. You watched his eyes trail slowly down your face, to your lips, then back to your eyes. You tried to push away, but huffed when you realised his grip was too tight. From what you could see, a tree was covering your position as well, so nobody could interrupt.

He scoffed with amusement when you tried jerking free, making your face heat up. Your whole body felt on fire, and your chest was buzzing with the need to escape. You jerked again, harder this time, causing a drop of blood to draw from the contact of Riptide on your neck.

“Let me go.” You spit out through your clenched jaw. The truth was, no one else truly did rile you up like Percy. To everyone else, you were dedicated and honest, but with him you were a scorching ball of hot-red anger.

Percy reveled in that little fact. He knew he controlled your emotions with words to make you feel small or actions to get you heated.

However, the truth was, whatever affect he had on you, was reciprocated nearly everytime. He knew you were his weakness, just as he was yours.

He tilted his head and admired the complete vexation in your eyes. This, fighting with you, and successfully pulling emotions from you like no other made him feel powerful and hungry. And Gods was he starved every minute you were away from him.

He waited a few seconds before eventually letting you go. You pushed the rest of the way away from him, trying to knock him down in the process. He stumbled and almost fell but unfortunately caught himself. He stuck his tongue in his cheek again and flipped his sword with his wrist in a show of play.

Good, he’s irritated.

He spotted your sword where it fell near his feet and kicked it towards you, picking up dirt in the process. “Pick it up.” He was definitely angry now, maybe the most you’ve seen since the archery fiasco.

“I’m not going to fight you.” You took a step back from your sword and crossed your arms. He stood there, waiting for you to give up, but you’ve been in too many similar situations. He started accepting that you weren’t going to budge once you took that stupid stance.

Instead, he retracted Riptide and put it in his pocket. He sighed and dipped his head to run a hand through his hair. You weren’t sure if it was out of anger or annoyance.

When he focused on you again, you saw how flushed he was, mirroring your anger. The two of you stood in front of each other, silently waiting for the other to give up and walk away. You were always fighting and suddenly staring contests weren’t beneath you.

Eventually, he scoffed again, this time undoubtedly in annoyance, and slowly lifted his hands in a surrender position. You furrowed your eyebrows at the action, and your confusion grew as he started walking slowly your way. He stook small steps, like he was approaching a dangerous animal. You didn’t move.

So, he walked up to about a foot away from you. You kept your eyes locked on his as he tilted his read to the side.

Teasing. Of course he was teasing you.

You quickly looked around for your sword, in hopes to defend yourself from whatever he was planning on doing while so close to you. And that’s when you realised, Percy was standing. On top of your sword. He’d perfectly distracted you.

Like an ignorant, dangerous animal, and that made you embarrassed. Properly.

He caught your eye again and smiled wide, knowing he’s won.

(You: 16, Percy: 18)

Quickly, you pushed him hard, but instead of stumbling off of your sword like you’d hoped, he expected this. Percy grabbed each of your wrists, held them to his chest and purposely fell backwards. You fell with him, and landed on top of him.

“What the hell, Percy. Fight fair and let me have my sword.”

“I thought you didnt want to fight?”

“Then what is this, huh?” You nodded towards your trapped hands and your body on top of his.

“Oh I see, not a top. I can fix that, give me a second.” Before you could flush at his comment he grunted and pushed you two over while still holding your wrists. Now, he breathlessly lifted your arms above your head, holding them in place. “Better?”

You roared at him, making a mockery of you. “Jackson, I swear on everything living, I will make your life a living hell if you do not-“

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” His voice was cold and dark. “Pretty girl, my life has been nothing but hell for as long as i’ve known you.” He bent down to your ear. While he was preoccupied with teasing, you struck a knee upward, getting him in the gut. “Shit!”

You wrestled away and crawled towards your sword. But when you turned back, Percy was gone.

(You: 17, Percy: 18)

[detroit-become-hurt]

Sweet Thing Pt. 2

So sorry about how long this took for me to upload! I had a friends wedding to attend and then work has me burnt out! But here it is!

A few days had passed since meeting Paul, Dwayne, David, and Marko. And I hate to say it, but they have been on my mind nonstop. There was something about them that piqued my interest, however I wasn’t sure what. Deciding enough was enough, I came up with the brilliant plan to talk to them once again, after my shift at the store. Was this a good idea? Probably not, especially after Sandra’s warning. But I wanted to make judgments for myself, it was unfair to make assumptions about the boys when I just met them.

Finishing getting ready I head out the door to work. Work was slow, the occasional customer coming in purely to look around before leaving. Luckily today’s shift passed by fairly quickly, and before I knew it, I was locking the door and off in search of four guys. 

The boardwalk seemed to be even busier tonight, but that was probably due to a concert going on down by the beach. Deciding to scope out the crowd down there I followed the sound of music and cheering. As I got closer it became more congested with groups of people drunk and lively. Several times people bumped into me, not paying attention to their surroundings. I was given a particular hard shove and almost fell over, had it not been for someone catching me. 

“Woah there sugar, we met once and already you’re falling for me?” Looking up I’m face to face with Paul. He gives me a crooked smile, a joint tucked behind his ear as he helps steady me. His hands stay on my shoulders even after I catch my footing. He was quite the flirt.

“Oh hey, I was looking for you guys.” I say without thinking, “I mean-I wasn’t. Shit.” I curse rubbing my face with my hand, cheeks flushed and hot from embarrassment.

Paul’s grin widens and he wraps his arm around my shoulders, “Aw sweets, you’re gonna make me swoon if you keep talking like that. Say, why are you looking for us?” He asks with genuine interest.

Looking anywhere but at him I huff, “Well, I just wanted to get to know you guys better.” Yeah, this was not going well. “I mean, I don’t know. My coworker said I should avoid you guys but I felt it was…unfair to make such judgments without getting to know you guys first.” I desperately wished I could dig a hole and bury myself alive right now.

It was almost like Paul could read my mind as he let out a loud laugh. “Well, I appreciate the honesty sugar. Come on, I’ll take you to the rest of the boys.” He steered me through the crowd, blocking other’s bodies from hitting me which I was quite grateful for as it was even more crowded up by the stage. He has us take a right over towards the pier, where a majority of the crowd dissipates. And then I’m able to see David, Dwayne, and Marko sitting on their bikes. Marko is the first to see us, and his eyes light up as he sees Paul. His eyes drift over to me, and I can see his eyebrows raise slightly. 

Slipping away from my side I watch as Paul bounces over to Marko, leaning his forehead to bump Marko’s in a way that I could only describe as affectionate. “Look who I found out there.” Paul announces, and Dwayne and David’s eyes meet mine. Dwayne gives me a warm smile, one I can reciprocate weakly as David just gives me a smirk. 

“And what are you doing here?” David asks, a puff of smoke escaping his lips as he speaks. 

God please don’t let me embarrass myself again. 

All four of them laughed at something, and I was hoping it wasn’t me. I could feel my cheeks heat up once again. “Go on sweets, tell them what you told me.” Paul pushes and I groan not knowing how to phrase my sentence better. 

“I was just…kinda wanting to get to know you guys better…if you didn’t mind. My coworker said I should steer clear of you guys but I just…I don’t know I want to make my own judgements and decisions.” I say squeezing my hands together. Surely I must look like an absolute fool right now. They’re gonna laugh at me, before sending me away like the clown I am.

Again they all laugh and I try to brace myself for their words. “Well…isn’t that something.” David says throwing the cigarette butt on the ground. “I must say, I’m quite flattered you seeked us out. Not many people like us, but I assume you already knew that.” It’s hard to maintain eye contact with him for long. Shuffling in place I look anywhere but at him. “Say, have you ever been to Hudson's bluff?” He asks. 

I shake my head, “No. Haven’t heard of it til now. Is it close by?” puzzled by his words, I’m not sure what he’s getting at. 

He smirks, leaning forward on his bike. “Sure, it’s close enough. Want to come check it out?” They’re all grinning at me now, that same dangerous look beneath their eyes. I should say no. I should turn around and leave. But something in my gut tells me to trust them, that I can trust them. And maybe I’m going insane, but my curiosity peaked.

“Sure.” I say, looking between them all I asked, “Who am I riding with? I’ve never been on a bike before.” 

“You can ride with Dwayne. He’s the…safer driver out of all of us. Or if you want, you can ride with me. I’ll keep you safe,” He says, holding out his hand. Again, if I was in my right mind I would turn away. I would never talk to these guys again. I should leave, go back home and continue my mundane little life. But there was this pull to these four that I couldn’t describe. I needed to know what it was. If my parents knew what I was doing, I’m sure they’d be rolling over dead any second.

Placing my hand in David’s, my voice is slightly shaky, “Just don’t kill me. I do enjoy being alive.” Paul and Marko holler at that, Dwayne giving a small chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, I keep my promises. You’ll be safe with me. Now hop on and hold tight.” He scooches forward so there’s more room for me. Swinging my leg over I adjust myself before wrapping my arms around his waist. He revs the engine several times and then we’re speeding down the beach, the others following closely behind. 

Dear god, what have I gotten myself into?

[hotheadedhero]

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Part 2

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.” 

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard.  "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated. 

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late. 

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't. 

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission. 

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air. 

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point. 

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders, and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with Y/n ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself. 

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring. 

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done. 

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months. 

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.” 

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things. 

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest. 

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

[where-are-yuu]

Sugawara Koushi Head Canons (Crushing, Confessing, and Dating <3)

Suga crushing on you is his smiles holding even more warmth for you than everyone else. Every time his eyes meet yours his expression softens ever so slightly. He always has a smile on his face around you. His gaze always lingers on you just long enough so he can admire you yet short enough to play it off as just spacing out. Without fail every smile he sends you way screams "I'm happy to just look at you."

Suga crushing on you is overthinking every interaction between the two of you. He may look cool and composed on the outside but he's internally freaking out over the way you talk to him. He's constantly fighting with his inner monologue. "Did I sound weird?" "How do I respond to that without making an absolute fool of myself?!"

Suga crushing on you is him keeping his notes app full of your likes, dislikes, and unsent messages he's never had the guts to send yet in fear of messing up the friendship you've built over time. It's him noticing the little habits you have and the small things you mention in random conversations. His notes app is practically full of you. ______________________________________________________________

Suga confessing to you is nervous yet romantic in his own way. It's him asking to walk you home after school with a small laugh and nervous smile, his usual composed demeaner faltering as he slows his steps to match yours, and his fingers fidgeting with his bag as he finds the right words to say.

Suga confessing to you is him stopping you on the corner between your house and his, his hand grabbing yours before he pulls it away unsure if that was ok. It's his looking everywhere but you for a moment as he regains his composure and his eyes move back to meet yours. It's his voice wavering ever so slightly as he spoke, every word he says sending a shiver up your spine.

Accepting Suga's Confession is his shoulders relaxing the moment you accept as he lets out a deep breath that he didn't know he was holding. It's his smile growing impossibly wide as he reaches for your hand once more, his voice hardly over a whisper as he continued to walk you home. "I can't believe you said yes." His tone gentle as he brough your entwined hands to his lips to press a reverent kiss to the top of yours. ______________________________________________________________

Dating Suga is quick kisses before class, his lips finding anywhere he can reach before he has to leave you, your forehead, you nose, your lips, your hand, anywhere. It's your hands brushing as you pass each other in the hallway and early morning reminders sent to you during his practice. "Don't forget a jacket, it's supposed to get cold today." "Good morning love, make sure to eat something. <3"

Dating Suga is study dates in the library that lead to no studying being done and laughter filling the room so much so that a teacher has to shush you. It's him checking your homework and leaving little doodles in the margins and him writing your name at the top of his notebook on every page surrounded by little hearts.

Dating Suga is soft conversations about future dreams and fears. It's him sharing everything with you because he trusts you with himself completely. It's cuddling on the couch in his house while watching cheesy romcoms and sharing snacks.

Dating Suga is him treating you like a sacred artifact, his hands cradling your face like you were fragile. It's him celebrating every milestone, no matter how small, with a single one of your favorite flowers and a homemade treat. For the bigger moments he takes his time planning the perfect date set with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a piece of jewelry.

Dating Suga is gentle love. It's him remembering everything about you, your coffee/tea order, your favorite fast food, your favorite color, your favorite number, everything from the smallest details to the largest ones.

[the-fiction-witch]

Via Call

Media - Doctor Who (The Lodger Episode) Character - The Doctor (11th) Couple - The Doctor X Reader Reader - Y/n (Companion) Rating - Smut Word Count - 3300

Due to the goings-on of alien business this week, the doctor had to lay low while investigating. He had taken up a flatshare below the suspicious goings-on and was acting human. While Y/n remained in the TARDIS orbiting above where it was safe. The doctor bounced on his bed, tinkering around his room, earpiece in his ear on a call with Y/n back in the TARDIS a special dampener on the earpiece so anyone listening will only hear nonsense allowing them to talk as needed. 

"So how are you enjoying it? Pretending to be a normal human I mean?" Y/n asks

"Oh, you know, it's not so bad. I mean, the 21st century? You guys know your way around a bedroom." He laughs as he rolls over and pulls at the sheets on his bed. "Although, I think I need something to pass the time. So far it's been a few days of absolutely nothing. How is the TARDIS by the way? I hope you haven't gotten into trouble without me."

"the tardis is fine. I'm fine too thanks for asking"

He rolls his eyes playfully, "You're no fun at all. At least try and get a little bit up to trouble why I'm working." He lets out a small and frustrated sigh, "This case will be the end of me. There's almost nothing I can find... It's almost like the alien is a ghost or something..."

"Who knows what it is that's what you're meant to be figuring out. You need me to bring anything down for you?"

"Well," He hums thoughtfully, "I suppose I could use some of that jelly baby stash."

"you can just buy jelly babies, doctor"

"Yes, but the TARDIS ones are the better ones!" The Doctor sits up and crosses his legs and leans into the bed, "plus I'd like for you to come here and hang out with me. It gets lonely when I'm pretending to be human all the time. It is boring."

"And what are you going to say if that flatmate of yours happens to them up while I'm visiting?"

“You’re my companion just tell him that,”

“People don’t say that doctor,”

“Oh… Partner then? Is that better than companion?”

“Slightly…”

“Say that you're my girlfriend..." He says casually as he swings his legs over the bed, "That's what humans do nowadays, right? I'm still figuring them out..."  He looks at the mirror and rubs at the sides of his face, "I look old. Humans hate that right?"

"you look fine very handsome I'm sure" her voice chuckled "I don't know if I could pull off being your girlfriend I'm not a good actress... Besides I'm keeping the TARDIS up here we're it's safe like you told me at least till you know what It is"

"Oh, honestly don't worry about your acting. The human mind is so simple, you could probably fool them with a simple hug and a kiss on the cheek." He smiles and stands up, pushing his hair back a little. "Besides, you're very pretty. You'll have them melting as soon as you walk in the door and they get a look at your eyes."

"aww you’re sweet, only two weeks on earth and you're already losing it bouncing around the walls"

"Oh, shush. Is it so much to ask to want to see you again? I just..." He sighs, "I miss your face, I miss your voice, I've almost gotten myself in trouble at least five times without you..." He chuckles slightly, fixing his bow tie and checking himself in to mirror, "I feel... Lost, I suppose."

"well I'm only in the tardis you can call me on this earpiece thing as much as you want and you can hear my voice,"

"It's different though, I can't touch you. Your voice isn't the same as when I can feel it vibrating through your chest. I can't hear all of those thoughts you always think but don't say. The sounds of your stomach when your hungry or the little laugh you do when I'm going on and on about something that doesn't make sense to anyone but me." He lets out a small sigh, 

"well it's only for a little while" she giggled "Just till you find what's going on then you can come back to the TARDIS and we can go spend a week at the Crystal Falls okay?"

"A week?" The Doctor grins at the prospect of the idea, "You mean a week just the two of us? Alone there? With a view of those crystal waters and the falling rocks?"

He turns away from the mirror to lean back against the wardrobe in the room, "that actually doesn't sound too bad. Are you actually suggesting a holiday? For the both of us?"

"I am, a little trip as soon as you sort all this out" she smiled

The Doctor laughs and nods, "Then it's settled. We can have a holiday and relax. No aliens, no saving the world, just some time for the two of us to relax and just get away. This time together will be nice... It's almost too romantic."

"Almost?" She smiled "Hey... If your really bored I have a game for you"

"What game is this hmm? Is it a fun game?" He tilts his head as he sits down on the end of his bed, kicking his legs playfully, "is it the kind of game that involves you and me? And by that I mean it's two people who play in person and not in calls?"

"nope just via call. It's a very fun game"

"Well if it involves you I'm sure it is! I guess I'm quite lucky like that." He laughs softly, "how do you play this game hmm? What do I need to do?"

"you have to guess where in the TARDIS I am."

"A game of hide and seek on the TARDIS? Well that sounds rather fun. Give me a hint of the general area that you're in... That gives me a little bit of a chance to guess"

"left side corridor"

"Ah, the left corridor? Hmm, that narrows it down..." The Doctor hummed thoughtfully before snapping his fingers as something clicked in his mind, "I think I know where you are now. You little minx, I bet your in the library, aren't you?"

"nope"

"Damn." He smiles and snaps his fingers with a click of his tongue, "hmm, well not the Library. You're too mischievous to hide in an obvious place. Maybe... The swimming pool! Is that where you're hiding?"

"Nope try again,"

"Not the swimming pool either? Hmm, what other room do we have on the left side corridor..." He hums thoughtfully as he rubs at his jawline, the cogs in his mind whirring to think of another place...

"Oh!" He snaps his fingers again, "got it! The media room! You're definitely in the media room!"

"not the media room." She giggled "Have a clue" she smiled and the sound of bedsprings come through,

He laughs quietly as he hears the springs come through his ear piece, "wait... You're on a bed now? Hmm... A bed you say... And on the left side corridor no less..." He grins and clicks his fingers again as he realises exactly where she is, "ha! I know exactly where you are now, don't think you're clever enough to trick me... You're in your room aren't you? In the bed, bouncing on the springs and making noise so I know for sure you're there. I'm right aren't I?"

"not my room"

"Not... Your room?" He huffs with a smile and shakes his head, "you're making this very difficult on purpose aren't you."

A lightbulb moments goes off in his head as the truth comes to him, "wait! You're in MY room, aren't you? That's where you are! In my room, on my bed, giggling to yourself as you wait to see how long I'm going to take to figure this out."

"maybe" she giggled 

"Bingo." He laughs and stands up again, "I knew that you were there. I'm just too good at this game aren't I? Don't think you're as clever as me now."

He leans his against the wardrobe and rolls his sleeves up, "so, tell me. What are you doing in my bed? Aside from giggling of course, hmm?"

"nothing..." She answered with a sly smile

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow and smiles, "you're not doing anything at all in my bed, hmm? It's just you, in my bed, by yourself. That doesn't sound suspicious at all now does it?" His tone suggests he knows she's up to something, "why are you in my room? On my bed no less. Surely you're not thinking about sleeping in my sheets are you? You cheeky minx..."

"already done" she teased "Been sleeping in your bed sheets since you left"

The Doctor's jaw drops in shock and he laughs loudly, "you've been sleeping in my bed? What have you been doing in there, hmm? Anything exciting in my bed, Miss Y/n? Tell me, what are my sheets like to sleep on?"

"very soft and Cosy, silky and smooth, and they smell like your hugs"

"You've been wrapping yourself up, thinking of me at night hmm?" He takes a few steps closer to the bed, "now why would you be doing a thing like that, hmm? Getting all cosy in my sheets every night just thinking of me when I'm not there. Missing me that much?" He shakes his head with a fond smile and laughs quietly under his breath, "you really are a handful..."

"I'm not use to being here all on my own" she pouts "so I came to snuggle in your room while your gone just to keep it warm and cosy for you"

His smile softens at the adorable sight she would make just laying there pouting and wrapped up in his bed. It's almost something out right of his dreams. "Well... I do always love coming back to an even warmer and cosier room. I suppose you are keeping it warm for me, aren't you? It's very sweet of you." His voice is softer now, almost affectionate, "and you've been enjoying yourself?"

"very much" she cooed

"Good... That's really good." He nods and takes a couple more steps towards the bed, looking at the ceiling as he imagines exactly what she looks like right now, in HIS bed. His sheets wrapped around her, burying her in his scent, just wanting to be with him. His voice is quiet and low as he continues, "just lay there... Close your eyes okay?" 

she hummed through the earpiece clearly doing as he asked her even if she’s so far away

He takes a deep, slow breath and lets it out just a little too slowly to be a regular exhale. He closes his eyes as well and imagines her on his bed, wrapped tightly in his sheets, thinking of him like she said, "just imagine that your in the room. Just think it. Imagine that I'm with you, that we're together right now. Just imagine it..."

"hum ..." She hummed the sounds of her shifting in his sheets and her sweet sighs of happiness before he can just hear the small sounds of kisses and he figures out quickly in her relaxed sleepy state she began kissing his pillow and he can imagine her laid on his bed hugging his pillow like it's his chest peppering it with kisses cause she missed him so badly

He smiles and bites back a low groan at realising that she's doing exactly what he's thought, kissing and cuddling HIS pillow. Imagining it being HIM! The Doctor can see her in his mind and he imagines himself there with her, wrapped in the sheets together kissing her neck as she kisses his pillow. He lets out a shaky breath, wanting desperately to be in this moment with her. The Doctor's breathing starts to speed up a little, his cheeks start to flush as his eyes are still closed, "that's it. Just keep kissing the pillow like it's me... I'm there, with you, in the sheets. Wrapped up tight. Just imagine me..." He can't help the low groan that escapes his throat now, not when he's thinking of this beautiful woman kissing away on the pillow, wishing that it was him. He's desperately trying to hold himself back though.

her kisses and gentle giggles continue but slowly her tone shifts the kisses become longer the giggles and gasps become small moans and it's obvious even just thought sound what she's up to

The Doctor's cheeks flushing even more as his breathing gets faster and faster, more heavy with anticipation. He can picture her so perfectly in his mind and he's wanting nothing more than to be there with her, taking in each one of her sounds. He bites his bottom lip as his imagination gets away from him, "Y/n... Don't... Don't stop..." He can picture every single detail, her hair splayed out on the pillow, her flushed cheeks and flushed body as she holds onto the pillow and kisses it like it's him, like it's his "I'm... There... I'm right there with you... Holding you... Don't stop... I wanna hear you..." He manages to gasp out between breaths, every word being a struggle. The Doctor can feel his hearts racing and his breaths are coming fast now. So close to the edge that the last little imagination could tip him over.

her moans become louder and the sound of kisses disappears replaced by another sound of movement "Doctor!" 

He gasps out again as the sounds of her moans get louder and he shudders as he imagines the movement she's making as she holds onto the pillow. "Oh God, Y/n-! Mmm. Ohhh... What's that? What are... Tell me! Tell me!"

she giggled innocently "Not till you tell me"

His breath catches in his through as he hears her soft, seductive giggling, "tell you...tell you what... Oh uggh, you cheeky little minx. You really want me to say it don't you? You want me to tell you... Tell you everything don't you?"

"mhm what are you up to doctor then I'll tell you" she teased between moans

"uggh! Just hearing you moan and giggle so sweetly for me makes me want to go crazy. I can't help it, you just get me so excited." His voice is practically panting into the receiver now, he's so close to the edge just imagining her like he is. He shudders against the receiver again before talking again, "mmm. Now just tell me what you're up to! Don't be quiet now!"

she giggled and said in the most innocent of tones loud enough he could catch every word "sitting on your bed, in your sheets, in one of your shirts, riding on your pillow imagining I had company"

The Doctor gasped out and groaned loudly, practically into the mic at the sounds of her words and imagined image in his mind. That...was enough to send him over the edge. "By the stars... Y/n...." He panted out between breaths, shuddering and moaning as his eyes rolled back for a moment. "I... Want you. So badly. So, so badly..."

"and what are you doing? Surely my cute little noises aren't being listened to while you just lay on that boring bed?"

"Listening and listening again and...imagining... It's making me go a little insane, but I can't stop listening to you. Just your voice is making me feel so good. Oh god I'm-" He's cut off by his own gasp and low moan and there's the sound of him shifting a little where he sits. His breath catches and he huffs out a shaky breath as he slowly comes down again, "you make it so hard to control myself, my dear."

"I'm sure controling yourself isn't all that's hard" she teased before she moaned his name again

The sound of her moaning out his name made the Doctor shiver and he swallowed harshly before he spoke again, his already gravely voice a little bit more low and rough now, "uggh woman you're killing me. You're gonna drive me completely insane if you keep moaning my name like that you naughty minx."

"I'll stop when you admit it"

He shudders again as he hears her soft, innocent voice in his ear. uggh that voice always gets him all hot and bothered. A groan comes from low in his throat before he finally manages to answer her, "Admit what, my dear hmmm?"

She giggled before she whispered into the earpiece "that your hard doctor?"

"By the stars you really do know just how to drive me mad." He groaned again and his voice shook with his next words. uggh his voice was so wrecked and hoarse now, he's sounding just so desperate. "Y-Yes... Yes, of course I'm hard. Just... Just” He huffed out a breath and shuddered a low groan against the ear piece before continuing, "imagining...imagining you right now...imagining what you're doing and the sounds you're making...how I just want to be there with you. How I just want to hold you close...I'm desperate for you, you sweet little minx."

"well as soon as you find out what's going on down there we can take our little trip a whole week at the Crystal Falls In a cute little cabin just you and me. And I'll sleep in your bed every night" 

His breath shudders again for a second as he imagines this. Just a week with her at the crystal falls in a cozy little cabin, her all curled up in HIS bed, in HIS shirt and wrapped up in HIS sheets. Just the two of them together… "Oh, yes..." He moans again, so low and almost right into his ear piece now as his eyes shut tight again, "uggh yes I want that."

The squeal that he hears from her is almost too much for the Doctor to handle. Just imagining her and knowing that he's getting her all riled up and needy, it's almost driving him insane. All he wants is to just be there with her, wrapped up together in his sheets. "Y/n...are you...are you close, darling?"

"mhm," she whines "I want to... With you... Please"

He shudders again at her needy whine, uggh she's so adorable. "Oh, I'd love that darling. I'd love that so, so much. I'm so, so close myself just thinking about you."

"doctor!" She screamed and squealed

The sound of her reaching her peak had sent him right over the edge again as he gasped out her name with a low, guttural groan that came from deep in his chest. "Sweet...Sweet stars... Y/n-oh uggh....!" He was panting and shaking against the receiver, his eyes shut tightly as he slowly comes down from his high again, his heart racing and his breaths coming out in low moans.

Y/n giggled "I think I'm just going to miss you more now..."

He laughed weakly in response, still coming back down from his high and calming himself down from that intense rush. uggh... She definitely knows how to get him up and send him spiralling, leaving him feeling all out in the open and vulnerable. "uggh, Y/n... That was some night. You're an absolute tease you know that? I'm gonna miss you terribly. I already know that this time apart is going to feel like an age."

"Maybe I could risk the TARDIS coming in for a... Little visit" she cooed "help you pass as human and all"

“Come down. Now.” He smirked before ending the call,