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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days

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Business Talk || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: You listening to Rafe and Barry talk business on his yacht. (s3 ep6 inspired)

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, idk if theres anything else lmk

Word count: 1,323

A/n: another canon fic because im obsessed with writing these 😖 pls send me canon fic requests 🙏🙏

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"Oh my God!" Barry yells out as you hastily pull away from Rafe, who groans in frustration, "Fuck, I thought we had more time." His head drops, leaning on your bare stomach, and you can't help but giggle as you reach over for your cover-up. Rafe sighs heavily, adjusting his pants with an annoyed expression.

"Damn, Rafe. Come on, Country Club," Barry calls out, his voice echoing through the boat as he makes his way upstairs to the top deck. "Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me!" When he reaches the final step, he notices you lounging on one of the sofas, looking perfectly composed. You give him a warm smile. "Hey, Barry," you greet him politely.

"Princess," he says with a playful bow, making you giggle at his exaggerated behavior. He then turns back to Rafe, who is still frowning. "You got a whole damn YMCA up on this bitch, dude," Barry exclaims, his eyes darting around the luxurious boat. You sip your drink, watching Barry's antics with amusement.

"Barry, shut up, yeah?" Rafe shouts at him, clearly fed up with Barry's incessant chatter about the boat. Barry throws up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, we need to make a move," Rafe walks over to his shirt and puts it on. "That's all we do, bro. We been making moves. Haven't we, y/n?" Barry glances at you as you watch the two talk business.

"Yeah, well, we don't have much time," Rafe says, his tone serious as he walks over to you and holds out his hand. You look at his hand for a moment before meeting his intense gaze. "Yo, come down here," Rafe says to Barry, jerking his head toward the stairs.

You take Rafe's hand as he leads you toward the stairs, your fingers still interlocked. Barry follows behind, curiosity piqued. "You're not gonna believe this shit," Rafe mutters, his voice low and intense.

As you descend to the bottom deck, Rafe's focus remains unshaken. "You seen any buyers?" he calls out, his mind clearly on the gold. Barry, now settling down on the couch beside you, responds with a chuckle, "It's always business with you, bro. I mean, I don't always live like this." You kick your feet up on the table, relaxing as Rafe heads to the fridge. He rummages through its contents, finally emerging with a few beers and your favorite drink.

"I'm just saying we need to take this shit seriously," Rafe insists, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. He opens your drink with a swift motion and hands it to you, his eyes meeting yours briefly. "Thanks," you reply softly, appreciating the small gesture. Barry observes the interaction with a raised eyebrow, then looks between you and Rafe with a smirk. "What? No princess treatment for me either?" he teases, pouting playfully at Rafe who rolls his eyes, “Get fucked.”

Barry clinks bottles with you after opening his beer, taking a swig and letting out a satisfied sigh. Moments later, Rafe returns, carrying a sleek black briefcase which he places on the table in front of Barry. You quickly adjust your feet as Barry's eyes widen in awe at the contents revealed inside. Your gaze meets Rafe's briefly before you lean forward, curiosity piqued.

"I should get a tooth made out of this, huh?" Barry quips, holding up a gleaming gold bar, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. You struggle to suppress a smile. "Look, don't be touching the shit. Just put it back," Rafe commands sternly, shooting Barry a look of irritation.

"Man, you're so paranoid. How do you put up with this shit, y/n?" Barry says, turning to you as he carefully replaces the gold bar. Rafe, exuding impatience, retorts, "I don't care about the cross. I'm trying to make money." He sits beside you, gently shifting your legs so they rest comfortably on his lap.

"I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches," Barry reassures Rafe. Distracted by a sudden splash from the water nearby, you turn your head instinctively. Rafe notices your reaction immediately. "What is it?" he asks, concern threading through his voice. You rise from the couch, taking your sunglasses off as you move towards the edge to peer down at the water.

"Nothin'. Thought I heard something," you shrug, slipping on your sunglasses before returning to the sofa. "The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada!" Barry rambles on, his enthusiasm undeterred. "These gems are mint, man. The gold's bullion. We're selling it in bars, right? I'm not dealing with some half-assed pogue shit with some reject from Zales, bro."

Rafe's voice cuts through Barry's excitement, firm and cold. "Hey, watch how you're speaking about my aunt, dog," Barry retorts, scoffing. Rafe's hands, tense with stress, had already begun their way down your thighs, gripping them unconsciously. It was a telltale sign of his annoyance.

"I'm not talking about your aunt. I'm just saying, I don't fucking trust my shit with pogues," Rafe shrugs dismissively as you absentmindedly play with his rings.

Suddenly, your phone dings with a text message. Rafe leans over, grabbing your phone to hand it to you. Their chatter fades into the background as you focus on the message from your friend.

"Who is it, baby?" Rafe asks, removing his sunglasses as you show him your phone, reading the etext. "Barry, you gotta go, man," he says, watching you rise from the couch and slip off your cover-up.

"What? Why?" Barry protests, glancing between you and Rafe with confusion. Rafe sighs, his patience thinning. "Y/N's having her friends over for a girl’s day on the boat." Barry's eyes dart to you as you smile and nod. "That right? And I wasn't invited?" he says with mock offense, making you laugh.

"Next time, for sure," you assure him, still chuckling. Rafe, eager to get Barry off the boat, pats him on the back. "All right, time for you to go, bro. Good to see ya." "All right, all right, I'm going!" Barry concedes, standing up and making his way to the edge of the boat. "You have fun, Y/N!" he calls out, waving. "Bye, Barry!" you wave back with a smile.

As Barry leaves, Rafe's hands find your hips, fingers playfully tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms. "Rafe!" you exclaim, swatting his hands away and retying the strings. "They'll be here soon." Rafe groans, "Why am I being cockblocked all day today." You smirk up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him in, "Later, I promise."

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sunkissed-zegras · 14 hours

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★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)

❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!

─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

APRIL 1, 2024

THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.

Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.

Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.

As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.

"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.

The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.

The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.

A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.

Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.

Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."

Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."

"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."

Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"

Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."

Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."

"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."

Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."

It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.

Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."

Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."

Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."

Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."

Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."

The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.

──

"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"

Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.

Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.

Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.

Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.

"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.

Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."

Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.

"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."

Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."

Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."

"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."

Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."

"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."

The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.

You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.

The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.

After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.

"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."

Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."

You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."

──

APRIL 5, 2024

"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.

The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.

"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."

Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"

Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"

You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."

Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."

As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"

The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.

As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.

But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.

Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.

You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.

"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.

As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.

All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.

In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.

"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.

"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.

She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.

Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.

The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.

Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.

Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.

In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.

"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."

The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.

As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."

When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.

"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"

The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.

You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.

As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.

Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.

"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.

"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."

There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"

"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.

Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."

You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."

Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."

You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."

Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.

Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.

After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.

And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.

"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."

His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."

The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.

As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.

Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."

Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"

You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."

As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.

──

"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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bidisasterevankinard · 2 days

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Bt headcannon:

The rest of the 118 don’t actually tell Buck about the story of Maurice the chicken, because it’s more funny to vaguely allude to it and watch Tommy sweat.

Bobby will serve a roast chicken for a family dinner and Chim will say ‘that kind of reminds me about that time with Maurice-‘ and Tommy will beg Chim with only his eyes to leave it alone because, miraculously, Buck still thinks he’s cool and Tommy would like it to stay that way, thank you. ‘So Chim will smirk and back down. One time Buck will be boasting about Tommy and how he isn’t afraid of anything and Hen will say ‘you should ask him what Maurice thinks of that’, so that night Buck asks Tommy and Tommy just says, ‘Maurice doesn’t have a say in the matter’ and moves the conversation along as quickly as possible.

And then one night Buck’s working up to say something and Tommy can see that he’s kind of nervous and jumpy but Tommy just takes his time and waits for Buck to be ready. And Buck, who is trying to be very chill and mature, looks up at him and says ‘Is Maurice your ex?’.

And Tommy curses everyone at the 118 because he has to explain to his poor boyfriend that no, people aren’t teasing Buck about an ex of Tommy’s, they are just brutally terrorising Tommy with a story about one of the most embarrassing and unattractive incidents of his past.

I'M LAUGHING SO HARD 🤣🤣😂🤣 and yes it's so true and I love it so much!!!!!!!

And last part about Buck thinking it's about ex is so canon Buck

Talk to me about bucktommy, Buck or Tommy HCs please. Madney too if you want

#bucktommy #firefam

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nonuify · 2 days

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Hey! I think the nsfw headcanons are so hot. Great work baby girl!

joshua headcanons (bf and NSFW like the one you did for seungcheol)? Or just the nsfw if you can't find the time.(I get it)

ᝰ.ᐟ 🌐 — H.JS ; ! boyfriend headcanons

sfw & nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+.

📓 ! i think shua is so sweet to you from beginning of your relationship like he would constantly worry about your comfort or anything regarding you.

📓 ! jisoo would get really flustered if you peck or kiss him even after awhile in your relationship he just loves you when you kiss him, it really has him feeling giddy.

📓 ! his love language is totally words of affirmation i think he absolutely loves you when you poor your heart out to him when you tell him how much he’s appreciated, but he also loves giving it to you, shua will always give you little love letters when you go to work, its just canon.

📓 ! he had a really cute habit of sending you random pics all throughout his day like one of his meals, or him working in the studio or just him singing, he absolutely loves sharing his life with you.

📓 ! he admires your beauty even when your sitting doing nothing he would just bite his eyes into your ethereal figure & face wondering how lucky he got.

📓 ! you guys have matching bracelets or any kind of accessories together its a must to jisoo!!, he will let the world know your his even in little details.

📓 ! you know where in the movies the couples share some earphones while listening to music? yeah that’s you & joshua, sharing music with you is canon.

📓 ! everyweek he’ll take you on dates wether it’s a fancy restaurant or a simple picnic or whatever he will take you & spend time with his special person.

📓 ! with fights, i think he’s really calm about it it’s very seldom he’ll blow up on you even if he does he will spend the whole days after apologizing for it, cuz he’s just a sweetie :(

📓 ! with him you guys are like a black cat & golden retriever duo, so opposite yet so right.

📓 ! joshua is very smart at reading you whenever your sad about something, i think he gets worried so much abt you so that’s why!

📓 ! he’s such a hopeless romantic he will deliver flowers to you so much, with secret love letters wether it be passionate or intimate.

📓 ! he loves calling you angel, it just suits you so much & you call him shua or shushu.

📓 ! joshua is pretty chill, but when he thinks you e gone too far playing your little tricks he will get jealous, and his jealousy isn’t easy.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ nsfw starting from this point.

📓 ¡ oh he’s such a tit man, he will suck, bite & kiss your tits till their colors turn & till your a sensitive mess.

📓 ¡ yeah he’s a sweetheart but in bed he’s so mean, like i stand by the meanie joshua committee.

📓 ¡ he looves to spit into your little cunt or mouth letting you swallow it like a good girl, then making you thank him.

📓 ¡ he fucks his cock into your panties till they’re soiled & slippery with his milky white cum, he’ll send you the pic of it even.

📓 ¡ joshua will be mean but he praises you never ever is gonna neglect your pretty little pussy & how it’s making him feel he’ll coo you so much but don’t get me wrong if you’re a brat he will degrade you till your a cock-drunk mess.

📓 ¡ oh he’s a pussy-slapper, he will slap your little cunt till you spew out cum out of your abused hole & your a crying mess.

📓 ¡ shua loooves when you cockwarm him with your mouth, he’ll let you there for hours till he’s satisfied enough to replaced with your wet-needy cunt.

📓 ¡ when he’s feeling it he’ll let you top him but both of you at the end of the day he’ll pound you into next week.

📓 ¡ I think he has a big big thing for you riding his thigh till his pants are soaked by your juices or even cum, he’ll look at you fucked out face & moan.

📓 ¡ shua has a big fucking breeding kink I can’t put my finger on it but seeing his cum coming out of your hole, makes him all hard again he absolutely loves the thought of you bearing his children.

📓 ¡ but shua has his passionate love-making side, he’ll make you cry from how he’s putting in so much love in you like it’s absolutely heart-warming how he does it, the I love yous & moans amusing ears.

📓 ¡ his fav position is missionary totally he loves admiring your face, holding you hands while he pumps into you.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! i hope you enjoy this bby!!!

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt smut #joshua smut #joshua scenarios #joshua fluff #joshua imagines #joshua x you #joshua x reader #joshua fic #joshua #jisoo smut #jisoo x reader #seventeen fluff

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daistea · 1 day

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I love love love the scenarios of Kabru with a person who is oblivious, but what about someone who is hyper aware of how other people feel towards them as a defense mechanism? Someone who is constantly aware of everything that's going on and it's something they can't turn off but as a result hates guessing games and won't act unless the other person is genuinely forward. They aren't bad and are polite but will blatantly ignore hints. I think there's another layer of hilarity in that one.

Ya! I don't know if I captured what you're looking for, to be honest. But I tried my best, and I hope you like it!

1600 words !

no tw or spoilers I don't think

Cracks - Kabru x reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Your heart was a fortress. There were moats and ballistas and canons aimed straight at anyone who dared approach. You weren’t sure when the fortress walls raised, but you knew when another stone was added, when they grew higher.

And Kabru’s charming smile only piled more stones atop the wall.

That smile was intended for another purpose, you knew. He’d realize that soon enough, but until then, you would maintain eye contact and nod along with his conversations. He didn’t talk about himself often, but he had stories to tell, anecdotes, theories. And he wanted your opinion on every single one.

“What do you think?” Kabru asked. It was a line cast into the water with bait on the hook. It was the sliding of a chess piece across the board. And he didn’t mean to play these games, you also knew that. It was just how he was.

“I don’t know,” was all you gave him.

Kabru nodded to himself. He was good at covering up his disappointment, but you could practically see the gears turning in his pretty head. The only thing you weren’t sure of was why, exactly, he had wanted to see you today.

Finally, he returned his attention to you, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

You felt yourself tense. Your shoulders slumped a little and you uncrossed your arms— he was probably reading your closed-off body language, but that was all simply habit, not a result of discomfort.

“No, you don’t,” and you meant it. You weren’t about to inform him of why you never took the bait, but you’d throw him a bone. “You really don’t. I just… Wait, that was a very straightforward question, Kabru. How uncharacteristic of you.”

“I can be straightforward when I want to be,” He sent you another brilliant smile, though the look in his eyes told you that it was genuine.

“Why do you want to be at this moment?”

Kabru looked away. He stared at his barely-touched mug of ale, doing his best not to shift uncomfortably on the bar stool. Yet, you saw it; the slight bounce of his knee, how his nose wrinkled.

Finally: “I’m figuring something out,” he said.

“Aren’t you always?” You teased.

And he sent you another genuine smile with a hint of something, you weren’t sure. How annoying. Was it affection? You decided to push the thought aside for the sake of your sanity.

“Yeah, you’ve got me,” he put his hands up and laughed, then took a sip of his ale as if needing something to do with himself to ease the tension that was slowly seeping between you. Tension: a noxious, invisible gas. It was about to give you a headache.

You turned on the stool to face him, “What’s on your mind?”

Kabru’s smile turned wry, “Now you’re the one prying.” Your heart clenched. That was another stone on the wall. He knew you and it made you want to run away as fast as you could.

“I guess,” you said, “Yeah, I do that sometimes.”

“I don’t mind,” Kabru murmured.

What a lie.

˚ · • . ° .

“Why are you two like this?” Rin asked. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands pressed down on her hips. Both you and Kabru took in the sight and began silently reaching conclusions.

Kabru was the first to answer. “What do you mean? What’re we like?” He wasn’t confused in the least but made a good show of it.

“Like this!” She gestured at you both, how close you were sitting with thighs and shoulders brushing. “You’re constantly dancing around each other and, frankly, it’s obnoxious.”

She was right. One step towards each other always resulted in two steps back. Kabru would create a verbal maze that you would instantly get lost in. You knew the general layout and that you should go a certain direction, but you never did find the exit.

“Sorry,” you offered, hoping it would quell Rin’s annoyance. (It did not.)

“Are you two aware that…” Rin paused. She seemed to choke on her words as her cheeks slowly went pink. You and Kabru both stared. And stared. And Stared. Finally, Rin groaned, “Nevermind! This is your problem to figure out. Not mine.”

True enough.

“She’s right,” Kabru murmured after she left. He lowered his head and looked at you, trapping you beneath his spotlight. Unfortunately, you had stage fright.

“Right about what?” You asked, standing up to create distance; that spotlight was uncomfortably warm. But the lack of that warmth from Kabru’s body next to yours only created a gaping hole in your chest. (You'd have to fill that hole with sweets and distractions later.)

Kabru pursued your attention, “About our feelings, of course.”

Your feelings? At that moment, you were feeling quite shaken as cracks began to run up your fortress walls.

“What feelings?” You asked flatly.

His hopeful little smile instantly fell and he started to shift uncomfortably, “Our feelings.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“I’m not making you say anything,” you corrected, taking a step backward, preparing your retreat.

“Yes you are,” Kabru began to argue desperately, “I’ve spent months trying to give you hints! I told you ‘the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?’ and you started talking about how the craters kind of looked like Laois’s face. I compared our hand sizes together as an excuse to touch you, and all you said was that I have girlish hands!”

“You do.”

“You know me,” he grit his teeth, standing up from the bench, “you know how hard this is for me. I’ve given you so many hints, so many opportunities, but you’ve ignored them all!”

Hints. Even the word made you frown. Kabru wanted to play guessing games all day, while all you wanted was a simple game of truth and dare where everybody only picked truth.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder why you loved this man. He always banged at the walls of your fortress and, recently, some stones had begun to crumble. You added more, but they would only fall when he decided to say something outright on rare occasion.

“I don’t like games,” was all you said.

“I know,” Kabru exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes, “I know. I’m trying, really. Usually, I’m pretty adaptable, but this is just… Different.”

“And… You don’t like it?”

“I–” his mouth opened and closed before he looked at you straight on, “I don’t hate it, honestly. It’s different in a good way, as if it’s forcing me to be better with my words.”

“You’re already good with your words. You’re too good with them, that’s the problem.”

Kabru watched you for a moment. You allowed him to analyze you despite how it made your skin tingle. After a bit, he nodded to himself. “Do you want to get a drink?” He asked.

“...I brought my water canteen with me, so I really don’t—

“You’re just blatantly ignoring my hints, aren’t you?” Kabru announced. His eyes widened and he threw his hands into the air. Whirling away, he gripped his hair and groaned. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Maybe you should try a new method,” you offered, patting his back, “one that doesn’t involve implications and guesses.”

Slowly, he lifted his head. He looked a bit dead inside, and his jaw tensed. You felt as if you were watching him force himself to eat a monster out of a sheer need to please. It endeared him to you, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the guy. The things Kabru put himself through simply to maintain good graces were endless and difficult.

“I…” he paused, blinking a few times before he finally looked at you, “Would that work?”

Probably. “Think of it like therapy,” you said as you led him back to the bench and sat down beside him. “Try to be blunt with me. Practice.”

“Practice,” he echoed under his breath.

“Come on.”

His eyes narrowed, “Fine. Where do I start? Give me a prompt.”

Good question. You gave it a moment of thought, “Alright, try asking me on a date.”

“I just did a few minutes ago.”

“No, be blunt about it.”

A heavy pause. Kabru slumped forward a little, an intense look in his eyes. “Alright. Fine. Will you go on a date with me?”

“...Why?”

“Why?” Fear and horror and exasperation filled his eyes, "Shouldn't you already know?"

“I don't. So, why?”

“Because—” just like Rin did earlier, Kabru choked on his words. His hands went up and he made meaningless gestures with them as if that would assist in the process of being blunt. “Because I would like that?”

“Good job!” You patted him on the shoulder. “Now, bluntly tell me how you feel about me.”

The horror on his face, you wanted a picture of it so you would always have something to laugh at. “Really?”

“Really,” you sang.

“Fine. I—” another meaningless gesture as he cleared his throat, brows furrowing, “You really want me to be blunt?”

“Yeah. Tell me the truth, the whole truth, don’t dance around it.”

“Okay,” Kabru snorted, “Okay… I want to kiss you, I want to hold you, I want your attention, I want to pin you down on the couch and—”

“That’s enough,” you put up a hand— your cheeks were burning— and smiled, “we’re in a public place. But I get the point, thank you.”

Kabru sighed in relief. He closed his eyes and fell forward, burying his face in your shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his back.

There was a lot of work to do. He still had another layer of walls to break through, but he’d learn how to defeat and conquer. He’d learn how to stop building mazes for you. And it would be good for him, if it didn’t drive him insane first.

You buried your nose into his hair. He groaned, slack in your arms. Part of you wanted to run, retreat. The other part of you rejoiced in the moment. You weren’t sure which one to listen to, but you and Kabru would figure it out with time.

You and Kabru would figure a lot of things out together from now on.

#yay!#sorry for the late reply friend #asks #kabru x reader #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #kabru of utaya #dungeon meshi x reader #reader insert #x reader #my writing

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suashii · 4 hours

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— 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 ౨ৎ

previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part

boothill x f!reader. 2.6k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ pet names ( darlin’ ) ﾉ mentions of alcohol ﾉ confessions ! !

small towns like this one are good for long drives. you know the roads like the back of your hand and there’s no traffic that requires your focus. with your foot on the pedal, the low hum of the radio, and the cool evening breeze blowing in through your window, you can let your mind wander—think about all the things you’ve been forcing yourself to bury and ignore the past few weeks. the circles you make on the same roads give you all the time you need to wrangle your unruly thoughts and attempt to form a coherent confession of your feelings.

today, you’ll tell boothill how you really feel.

it’s been a couple of days since your conversation with meg, since you listened to boothill’s advice. you may have picked to be brave at that moment, but the task is easier said than done. ever since that night, you’ve been struggling to find the perfect moment to tell him. you’ve considered taking him up on his offer to help you with the dishes after lunch, casually coming clean over the mundane chore. you’ve thought about just blurting it out as you pass him in the hallway, chickening out at the last second. you’ve sat in the darkness of the living room, staring at the stairs, hoping he’ll come down them so you can recreate that courage you felt then and there.

you only realize today that there is no such thing as the perfect moment—it’s simply another scapegoat for you to turn to when you’re scared. but you’ve come to the understanding that this uncomfortable, suffocating feeling that has been weighing on you won’t go away unless you step off the edge of the cliff to take that terrifying plunge.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve driven past the turn that leads down the road to the ranch but you finally take it this time around. your fingers tap nervously at the steering wheel as the house comes into view. despite its length, the driveway feels shorter than usual as you make your way up it to park at the end.

you take the time to turn the radio off and roll up your window before turning the car off, snatching the key from the ignition, and getting out.

you’re sure you hit the button to shut off the radio, but there’s still music in the air when you walk around the back of the vehicle to approach the porch. you almost frown, thinking you’ve driven yourself to madness finally acknowledging all of your thoughts, but your brow doesn’t furrow and your lips don’t curl down once you find the source of the music.

boothill is sitting on the porch swing, an acoustic guitar resting in her arms. rough fingers pluck at the strings, chords coming together in a familiar song that you’re sure you only know because of your grandpa—save the last dance for me by the drifters. at his feet, missy notices your arrival, tail wagging in excitement before she gets up to greet you.

you scratch the border collie’s head affectionately when she descends the stairs to meet you. the dog’s fur is warm beneath your fingers, likely due to the setting rays of the sun and, somehow, petting her brings you a little bit of determination to face boothill.

your eyes flit up from the dog to boothill and, to your surprise, he’s already looking at you. his lips stretch into a smile, fingers still playing despite his focus on you. though, you do notice that he’s slowed down.

“hey there.” he nods in greeting. the song has come to an end by now but boothill doesn’t abandon the instrument, instead choosing to set it on his lap. “we missed you at dinner.”

“yeah…” you don’t explain your absence, he’ll find out why you were gone soon enough. you pat missy’s head before walking up the few steps that put you on the same level as boothill. the new position gives you a better look at him. he’s wearing a shirt from high school if the name printed on it and its snug fit are any evidence, and a pair of basketball shorts. the style is a far cry from his normal attire but something tells you he’d be able to make a burlap sack look fashionable.

what he’s wearing should be the least of your concerns but you only exchange one distraction for another when trying to divert your attention.

“i didn’t know you could play.” you point at the guitar.

he shrugs, lifting up the instrument and leaning it against the house. you almost take the movement as a sign that he’d rather not talk about it but he’s only making room for you on the swing, keeping the neck of the guitar from taking up any unnecessary space. he jerks his head in the direction of the newly available seat, a silent way of offering you a more comfortable alternative to standing. you hesitate for a short moment before letting your feet carry you to the swing.

“i dabble in it—high school, mostly,” boothill tells you as you sit down. the swing sways with your added weight and neither you nor boothill try to stop it, preferring the subtle breeze the motion brings. your new proximity to him sets your nerves ablaze, makes you think about darting past him and into the house, but you force yourself to stay put.

boothill reaches down for something, something you hadn’t seen earlier. there’s a brown bottle in his hand when he sits back up, a bottle opener in the other. he uses it to crack open the beer and turns to you. “want one?”

a little bit of liquid courage might do you good but you grimace at the thought of it being beer. you shake your head. “no thanks.”

“can take the girl out of the city but never the city out of the girl.” he chuckles to himself before taking a swig. you’re tempted to tell him that your distaste for beer has nothing to do with geography but picking a petty fight with him right now seems counterproductive, so you keep quiet.

the chirp of crickets and the occasional huff from missy at your feet fill the otherwise silent evening air. the sound of your heart thumping against your chest becomes obviously apparent in the quiet and while you hope boothill can’t hear, it’s enough to act as a catalyst, a vital push in the right direction. your mouth moves with the words but even though it’s quiet, they don’t hit your ears. “can i tell you something?”

you're not sure you actually asked him the question until you see his eyebrows raise in curiosity, a smile tugging at his lips. it should be all the invitation you need to continue but you need a little more security. your next sentence comes out rushed, the ends of certain words blending with the beginning of others. “and you can’t laugh or tease me because if you do, i will pack up and drive away so fast—”

“hey, hey,” he stops you, raising his hands and the beer bottle in mock surrender, “i’m not gonna laugh.”

“and no teasing.”

he shakes his head, smile falling upon seeing just how serious you are. “none of that either.”

you nod. there’s understanding in his gray irises and as much as you’d like to keep looking at them, to draw courage from them, you don’t think it’ll be possible for you to get this declaration out if you’re meeting his eye. you’ve always heard that the eyes are the windows to the soul—you won’t be able to take seeing that understanding and compassion morph into rejection and pity.

you face forward, choosing to look at the blend of pink and orange coloring the sky.

“i…” you start, but your breath catches in your throat. it’s tense with fear and if air wasn’t passing through it, you would be sure that it was completely closed. but you can still breathe. you suck in a breath through your nose and slowly exhale a stream through your mouth. it does little to ground you, but it does remind you that you’re alive. you are now and you will be after—even if it does end less than ideal.

be brave.

“i have feelings for you.” an immediate weight is lifted off of your shoulders. the air around you feels light, easier to breathe. the relief that washes over you doesn’t last long, though. his eyes are boring into you, you can feel them urging you to turn and look his way. you don’t. you have something more to say. “you… you make me warm inside and i have no idea how to deal with it. i don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

the silence blankets you once more and you close your eyes. the burden you’ve been carrying is finally gone, you should be happy—you are happy. but there’s an entirely new dilemma that takes its place. the question of what happens after.

silence from boothill is always uncharacteristic, but this time around, it’s nerve-inducing. your mind is in shambles again, racing with all of the negative possibilities. there’s one thought that comes back more frequently than the rest; he’s trying to find a way to let you down easily.

“hey.” his voice startles you and tension tightens in your shoulders. the single word is meant to get your attention and it does but you refuse to open your eyes.

“would you look at me?”

it’s not a demand, it’s a request. the farmhand agreed to your terms, the least you can do is give him this. maybe this is part of being brave, too—facing the unknown in spite of its frightening nature.

you peel your eyelids open. the sky has darkened a bit and fireflies are visible now, their abdomens glowing softly against the sunset, but that’s not what you’re supposed to be looking at. you bite your cheek and turn to the right where boothill is sitting. his gaze is already glued to you.

your heart jumps at the sight. his gray irises haven’t dulled like you expected them to—they glow like the lightning bugs, burn like the warmth of the sunset. his lips curl up in a smile, putting sharp white teeth on display. your lips part in silent surprise.

“y’know,” he starts, smile never leaving his face, “i’ve been waiting for you to say so.”

heat blooms in your cheeks and under your skin, just like in the past when he’s said things like this. what does he mean he’s been waiting? did he already know?

the next words that push past his lips send yet another shockwave through you. “i fancy you myself.”

your answer to the question of what happens after. it’s not rejection, it’s not pity, it’s not indifference—it’s… reciprocation. he feels the same way. your mouth is beginning to dry with how long it has been open. you hinge your jaw shut, poke your tongue out to wet your lips. once it doesn’t feel like your voice will be muffled by cotton, you ask. “why?”

“why?” he repeats after you, disbelief lacing his voice. “are you serious?”

you nod. “very.”

boothill lets out a humorless chuckle. “you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mumbles under his breath.

“well, you don’t let people talk down on you.” he scratches his chin and the smile that was lost slowly makes its way back to his lips. you’re about to ask what he means by that when he explains. “like when i gave you a hard time over not looking the type of help out—you called me on it and proved me wrong then and there.”

the moment he’s referring to seems like it happened forever ago but you remember the feelings you experienced then like it was yesterday—the initial annoyance, the determination, the shock. you certainly wouldn’t consider how you handled those feelings your finest moment (maybe your most embarrassing) but boothill regards the interaction in a different light, one that paints you as resilient rather than awkward.

“and you put others ahead of yourself,” he goes on. “always making sure i’m present before we start lunch and prioritizing a horse’s wellbeing over your own. you’re real caring.”

to think that he’s been examining you so carefully, reading into all of your little actions and storing them away in his head, makes you flush, warmth spreading over your skin despite the cool evening air brushing against you. it never struck you as possible that he might think about you just as often as you think about him.

“and, y’know, i’ve always said you’re pretty.”

he’s right, he’s told you that a countless number of times, but hearing it now feels different. there’s a new weight behind his words now that you know he truly means them and because you’re ready to accept them. well, partially—it’s still hard to say thank you, especially when boothill is looking at you so attentively. “that you have…”

his half-lidded eyes and the smile tugging at his lips added on to his silence tell you that his list has come to a close. he’s given you all the evidence you asked for with examples, too. you’d have to be painfully oblivious to question his feelings having heard his reasoning. though, there is something else you’re curious about. “so, were you planning on telling me? before now, i mean.”

“i was waiting for you to say somethin’,” he admits with a grin.

“you jerk.” you slap his shoulder playfully but he doesn’t budge an inch. it would have spared you a lot of grief and overthinking if he had made the first move. after all, it seemed like he skipped the whole “coming to terms with his feelings” part of the process and readily accepted them.

“you knew i was talking about you the other night then.” it’s not a question—there’s no way he didn’t know if this was something he’d been anticipating.

he shrugs. “i had an idea.”

you’re tempted to give him another smack but you restrain yourself—he wouldn’t have deserved it anyway. sure, he lied about how much he had heard, but you think you’re better off having waited until now. in your mind, this is as perfect as things could have gone. “well, thanks. for not forcing it back then.”

“no thanks necessary, darlin’.” he flashes his signature smile before taking back another swig of his beer.

the world seems to still for a moment. you like boothill. boothill likes you. you’ve both made your feelings clear but where do you go from here? “so… what do we do now?”

“anything you want,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious answer.

you haven’t thought this far ahead, considered what might take place if you made it through this encounter on the side where the grass is greener. what do you want to happen?

boothill can practically see the gears turning in your head. it’s apparent in the way your eyebrows crease, in how far away your gaze is. it’s cute to see you think so hard, but he’s willing to share a proposition of his own. “tell you what, how about i take you out on a date?”

“right now?” you ask, your voice a pitch higher than normal.

he can’t help but snort at the surprise you fail to conceal. “i was thinking tomorrow but if you’re that eager—”

“no, no,” you wave your hands, “tomorrow is good.”

a date with boothill. a few days ago, the thought would have riddled you with fear. but now, your heart buzzes with excitement. you don’t know it when you ask him, but you’re smiling. “where are we going?”

he meets your eye, takes in the enthusiasm sparking in your gaze. he wants to hold onto it forever. the smile you wear is mirrored on boothill. “it’s a surprise.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #boothill drabble #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail drabbles

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deerlino · 18 hours

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Hiya, I adore your fics, they are so amazing and sweet! ❤️‍🩹 Could I request a fic?? Could you do producer! F! Reader x han? Like they're in a secret relationship and they get caught?? 😂 Could you please make it slightly cracky but also extremely fluffy??

caught in the mix.

han jisung x fem!reader / you and jisung are both producers at the same company, secretly dating. but your cover gets blown, and everyone finds out about your relationship.

additional tags / producer!jisung x producer!reader, (domestic) fluff, secret relationship, getting caught, canon compliant, workplace romance, established relationship, humor, crack, teasing & banter — 773 words in total.

content warnings / mild swearing, kissing (soft kisses, kisses on the neck, some intense moments of kissing)

authors note @ 15092000volcano / this was super cute to write! <3 i haven't done many jisung fics, so i was really excited to get this request. 😋 plus, i’m obsessed with the producer trope right now, so it was the perfect way to spend my sunday evening. thanks, anon, for the sweet request and the kind words about my work—it means a lot! hope you love the fic! 💓

You’re in a dimly lit recording studio, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. The place is familiar, almost like a second home, except for one crucial detail: this is where you and Jisung have been sneaking off to. You glance over at him as he tinkers with the mixing board, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the computer screen. He catches your eye and shoots you a quick wink, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Pass me the headphones?”

You slide them over, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder how long you can keep this secret from the rest of the team. It’s not that you want to hide your relationship, but you know how chaotic things can get with everyone involved.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Chan strides in, his usual confident swagger in place. He freezes mid-step when he sees you and Jisung huddled together.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

You both jump apart like you’ve been electrocuted, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly. “Nope, just, uh, working on a new track.”

Chan’s eyes narrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. Working. Sure.” He gives you a pointed look before sauntering out, leaving you both in a flustered silence.

“Well, that was close,” you mutter, trying to steady your racing heart.

Jisung chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, babe. We just need to be more careful.”

The next day, you’re in the kitchen, trying to make coffee without waking up the whole house. Jisung sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean into his touch, a content sigh escaping your lips.

“Morning,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Morning,” you reply, turning to kiss him properly.

Just as your lips meet, the door swings open again. This time, it’s Felix, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. He stops dead in his tracks, blinking rapidly as if he’s not sure he’s really seeing this.

“Oh my God,” Felix says, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Are you two...?”

You and Jisung spring apart again, but it’s too late. Felix is already grinning like the Cheshire cat. “This is gold. I can’t wait to tell the others.”

“Felix, no!” you plead, but he’s already out the door, cackling.

Later, you’re sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV, but your mind is elsewhere. Jisung is next to you, his hand discreetly resting on your thigh. You’re trying to act natural when Seungmin strolls in, phone in hand.

He takes one look at you two and snorts. “You guys are terrible at hiding this, you know?”

Jisung tries to play it cool. “Hiding what?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve seen more subtlety in a sledgehammer. Just be glad it’s me and not someone with a camera.”

Your face heats up, and you bury it in Jisung’s shoulder, mumbling something about how you’re trying your best. Jisung just laughs, pulling you closer.

As the day goes on, you and Jisung keep getting caught. Jeongin walks in on you sharing a secret kiss in the hallway and immediately turns on his heel, muttering about how he didn’t need to see that. Hyunjin catches you holding hands under the table and just smirks, giving you a knowing look. Even Minho, who’s usually oblivious to everything, notices the way you and Jisung look at each other and shakes his head with a sigh.

Finally, the inevitable happens. You’re in the studio again, thinking you’re safe. Jisung has you pressed against the wall, his lips on yours, when the door flies open. This time, it’s everyone—all of them, standing there with various expressions of shock, amusement, and exasperation.

“Seriously?” Chan groans, rubbing his temples. “Can you two not keep it in your pants for one minute?”

Felix is laughing so hard he’s doubled over, while Hyunjin and Jeongin exchange high-fives. Seungmin just looks resigned, and Minho’s smirk is wider than ever.

You and Jisung separate, both of you blushing furiously. “Well,” you say, trying to salvage some dignity. “Surprise?”

“Yeah, no shit,” Chan says, but he’s smiling now. “Just... next time, maybe lock the door?”

Jisung chuckles, pulling you into his side. “Noted, boss.”

As everyone piles into the room, the teasing starts in earnest. You feel a warmth spreading through you, knowing that even though you’ve been caught, you’re surrounded by people who care about you.

© deerlino (est. 100624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

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dancingtotuyo · 2 days

Text

13. with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: you adjust to life with a newborn. Joel finally gets to tell you something

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, smidges of angst

Notes: And thus we enter the third and final part of this beloved story. This chapter starts to play with some of the canon of TLOU II as will the rest of Part III

As always, a huge shout out to@janaispunk for beta reading.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3642

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Three Years Later

Willa sits at the kitchen table, chin resting in her palms as she stares out the window. It’s cracked open, allowing the chilly fall breeze in as it plays with the dark curls on her head. She’s been there since breakfast, kicking her legs in thoughtful silence with a stack of untouched art supplies at her side.

You’ve never seen her so still or quiet, keeping an eye on her as you bustle around the house, cleaning and preparing for Joel’s birthday dinner. This is the first year he’s really allowed you to celebrate it. You’ve done small things in the past. A cake after dinner. A small wrapped gift. It’s a hard day for everyone. It’s the day that life as everyone knew it ended, but you have reason to celebrate. He’s growing older, an accomplishment in its own right, the gray in his hair beginning to take over the brown. You like it. It means he’s still here.

Willa is still kicking her feet at the table when your stomach growls. The clock on the wall reads just after twelve. Carter is at school. Joel has assignments until dinner time. You fix two sandwiches and slice some veggies. You set a plate in front of Willa and then slide into the chair across from her.

She lets out a deep sigh that seems too big for her small frame to hold. A smile edges at your lips. “What’s wrong, Sweetpea?”

“I don’t know what to make daddy.”

“For his birthday?”

She nods.

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about all day?”

“Yeah.”

You smile assuringly at her. “You should eat. It always helps me when I can’t think.”

She lets out another sigh, but picks up the jelly sandwich you made her. Her lips smack as the jelly oozes out of the sides, sticking to her fingers and leaving pink smudges along her cheeks. Willa appears unbothered by it, head nodding back and forth as she eats.

You manage through most of the meal without intervening until she goes to push back her hair with a jelly soaked hand. “Whoah Whoah Whoah!” You’re out of your seat, grabbing her wrist in the nick of time. She looks almost startled. “Your hand is covered in jelly. I don’t want it to get into your hair.”

“Oops,” she smiles. “Sorry, Mommy.”

“It’s okay,” You sigh, reaching for the dish cloth in the kitchen sink. The last thing you need to do is work jelly out of a three year old’s hair. “What kind of cake should I bake for Daddy’s birthday?”

“Chocolate,” Willa grins as you wipe down her hands and mouth.

“That’s your favorite,” you chuckle.

“Daddy likes it too.”

“Chocolate it is then.” You kiss her cheek.

She beams up at you and then a light bulb goes off in her eyes and she quickly digs into the meager art supplies you’ve collected over the last several years. You watch her for a few short moments as she bustles forth with clear determination. Then, you bake a birthday cake.

Midway through, you exit to the living room, only to set the needle on the record player. When you return, Willa’s head bounces back and forth in time as she hums the words she’s already memorized.

As she finishes her project, Willa jumps down, scurrying out of the room in a flash. You smile to yourself.

Carter bustles in, throwing his backpack onto the floor with a thud. “Are you denting the walls again?”

His face appears around the corner with a lopsided grin you’d seen on Gabe a thousand times. The ache is dull in comparison to the joy it brings you. “That only happened once.”

You wink at him, tossing him an apple. He catches it with ease, the product of countless hours he and Joel spent outside with a baseball and tattered gloves.

“How was school?” You smile.

“Good.” He bites into the apple with a satisfying crunch, before standing on his tiptoes to kiss your cheek. You lean over to close the gap, but it’s admittedly not as large of a gap as it used to be. He’s growing faster than you like.

“Just good?”

He nods, mouth full of apple, but chooses to speak anyway. “I saw Ellie. I invited her tonight.”

You keep your face neutral, far experienced now in keeping the war between Ellie and Joel from your younger children. “What did she say?”

“Maybe.”

Your eyebrow raises. You can’t keep the hints of surprise from your face, but you’re saved from having to make a response.

“Carter!” Willa rushes in, out of breath and in a flutter like the world might stop at any second. She pushes her hair out of her face. You really wish she’d keep the hair ties in, but she says it pulls her head. Your daughter meets her brother’s eyes with a serious weight in her eyes. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

She glances at you, like she's not sure you can keep the secret swirling in her little mind. “Daddy’s birthday present.”

“Okay,” Carter shrugs. Willa rushes out in the same flurry with Carter following.

“Don’t leave the apple core in your sister’s room!” You call after them with only the slam of Willa’s door in response.

As far as baking cakes, well, it wasn’t your strong suit before the world ended, but you manage. You’ve never received a complaint from the kids, but you know they prefer Maria’s cake to yours. You should have asked her. You slide the iced cake into the fridge just as Joel arrives home.

“There’s the birthday boy.”

There’s a deep chuckle in response. “The house is suspiciously quiet.”

“Your children are up to no good. I’m sure.”

“My children, you say?” His sturdy arms wrap around your middle and you lean back. “What they do?” His lips play behind your ear.

“Not sure. They’ve been shut up in Willa’s room for over an hour.”

Joel chuckles. “Perhaps they’re forming a mutiny.”

“I hope not. We’re getting too old for that.”

“Might just let them take over. Then we could live out our days in peace. Prop our feet up while they get to work.”

You hum softly. “Doesn’t sound half bad.”

“That’s what happens when you get old,” he kisses your cheek.

“Are you calling me old, Joel Miller?”

“You’re almost 50, Sweetheart. You’re about to join the ranks. I’m just preparing you.”

“I’ve already got the achy back and creaking knees.”

Joel chuckles. “Guess I got to throw you a birthday party too.”

“I think we can just skip that.”

Joel clicks his tongue. “No, we’re gonna celebrate. We’re gonna start doing alot more celebratin.”

“We haven’t even had your birthday party and you want more?” you can’t contain the laughter rising in your chest.

There’s a deep sense of rightness in this moment. The fears you harbored for so long, melting away with each year that is passed. It’s not completely gone by any means, but it doesn’t keep you from living anymore, embracing what you have.

He nuzzles into your neck, his scruff scratching softly against your skin. You’ve both aged these past couple of years, be it biology or the two young kids you’re raising, but you see it in yourself now too when you look in the mirror, the way the wrinkles cut deeper into your forehead and around your eyes. And maybe, you’d had a harder time accepting the gray hairs that seemed to multiply each day than you wanted to admit, but you embrace it now. You embrace all signs of aging. Aging is a good thing.

“I think we should start celebrating everything.”

“Are you having a midlife crisis?”

“Think it’s a little late for midlife… What’s after that?”

You shift a bit in his arms, trying not to dwell on the first thought that that pops into your mind. “I think midlife works.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Joel grins. “It’s not a midlife crisis.”

You hum, a look on your face that says, yeah, sure, okay.

He laughs in response. “I’m gonna go shower. Doesn’t sound like the kids will let me in to say hi.”

“The door is probably barricaded.”

“Shower it is,” Joel smiles, giving you one last kiss before the stairs creak with his weight.

Dinner is all but ready, and the kids are still locked in Willa’s room when Joel comes down the stairs. His hair hangs in damp ringlets, longer than he’s let it get before. You have to admit that you’re liking the extra length.

“Can you go tell the kids they need to come set the table?”

“Time to bring down the barricades, got it.” Joel winks at you.

You can hear the commotion down the hall, Willa yelling that Joel is not to come in. The back and forth of getting the kids to agree on coming out. Joel’s grunt as Willa inevitably jumps into his arms with zero warning. It’s all familiar and warming. It fills your home with love.

The kids scurry out. Joel aids Willa in fishing out the silverware while Carter grabs out the plates. Another well rehearsed dance. A slice of normalcy Joel never imagined he’d get again in this lifetime.

He’s pulling glasses out of the cabinet Carter can’t reach yet when there’s a knock on the door. Joel looks at you questioningly. Tommy and Maria never knock. You shrug.

Ellie’s nervous face and Dina’s smile greet him when he opens the first door. Joel’s heart leaps in his chest as his jaw drops slightly. “Ellie… hi.”

“Hi.”

“Happy Birthday, Joel,” Dina smiles.

“Thanks, Dina.” Joel nods but quickly returns his eyes to Ellie. “Thanks for coming.”

She forces her lips into a tight line. “Carter invited me.”

“Still glad you came.” Joel still seems a little bit stunned. “Why don’t the two of you come on in?” He steps aside. Ellie refuses to meet his eyes. Dina pulls her inside.

He stays by the door, overhearing the surprise in your voice when you spot Ellie. Carter and Willa’s joy at having her here. His heart aches. It always does when he thinks about the distance between them, but she came. That has to be a good sign.

“I see we got the welcoming committee tonight,” Tommy says as he walks into view, hand in hand with Maria. Elias darts forward, narrowly brushing past Joel.

“Happy birthday, Uncle Joel!” He says without stopping, more focused on finding his cousins than bothering with his uncle.

Joel chuckles, accepting Tommy’s hug as he approaches. “I see where I fall on his list of priorities.”

“You’d think he didn’t just see Carter at school.” Maria laughs, offering her own greeting to Joel.

“Thank you for coming.”

“When do we not show up?” Tommy grins as the three of them make their way inside.

Carter and Willa have already added the extra place settings for Ellie and Dina. Carter slides right next to Ellie, making conversation about the moon and constellations. Joel slides into his chair at the end of the table. You catch the way he looks at Ellie. The way she expertly avoids him. You’re not sure how she does it, seemingly present but expertly able to avoid any and all conversation with Joel. Tommy and Maria’s presence seems to make it easier.

You knew what he did hurt, you just never expected the two of them to go this long in limbo, orbiting each other round in round, never coming to a resolution. As much as Joel looks like someone totaled his pickup and shot his dog when he glances her way, he still manages to enjoy the night. Ellie being here, whether she talks to him or not, is the greatest gift he could have asked for.

You take his hand, squeezing it gently. He presses it to his lips, winking at you playfully. The balancing act can be tiring, but he’s simply happy tonight.

You’re not offended when the cake on the plate of the adults remains mostly uneaten. The cake is dense and dried out. The kids don’t seem to mind.

“Can we do presents now?” Willa asks, frosting sticking to her face in multiple places. You can only imagine how sticky her fingers are.

“Wash your hands first,” you say.

Willa nods, sliding out of her seat and rushing out of the room.

“Can I get anyone anything to drink? Water? Tea?”

“Coffee?” Joel grins. You have been able to rangle up beans each year for his birthday, except for this year.

You shake your head. “Unfortunately, not this year.”

“No coffee? That’s it, party’s over folks.” He playfully hits the table with his palms, winking at you.

He receives a smack to the back of the head, and a deep chuckle greets your ears. You smile, setting the kettle on the stove. He’s happy and relaxed, bubbling over with a calm joy, pure and untarnished. You like this side of him. It’s like a piece of the first version of Joel you knew. The same laughter and smile Sarah pulled from him long before the world dug its ugly claws into either of you. It’s only become more common in your home over the years.

Maria joins you as you start to wash up a few dishes while you wait for the kettle to boil. Both of you watch the table with keen eyes as your family sits around it, complete for once. Joel and Tommy chat about their patrols. There’s been an uptick in infected. They’re worried about a colony coming in. Dina and Ellie engage with the boys at the other end of the table, some debate about what happened at kickball last week.

“You better not be washing dishes, Sweetheart. That’s my job,” Joel says.

“It’s your birthday.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. “You cooked, and baked a cake.”

“More like attempted,” Tommy teases. You stick your tongue out at him like the mature 49 year old woman you are.

Once the team is ready, you set a mug in front of Joel. He thanks you before his brow furrows. “That’s not my mug.”

You know he’s talking about the owl mug, the one you push to the back of the cabinet because you think it looks at you funny. “No, it’s your new mug,” You smile. “Happy birthday.”

Joel picks it up, inspecting it closer. It’s slightly faded but otherwise in pristine condition. Two fawns frolic against the picturesque forest that’s delicately painted along the outside. His eyes narrow slightly at you, a playful volley of looks and unspoken words passing between you.

Joel chuckles, stealing a chaste kiss from your lips. “Thank you.”

“You can use the owl one when I’m not around.”

“So never then?”

“I mean, ideally, yes.”

“As sweet as this is,” Tommy says, interrupting the two of you. “I’m afraid we came empty handed.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t expect anything less. Besides, I’ve got everything I need right here.” He looks around the table that includes everyone in the world he loves, aside from Willa who is still busy cleaning herself up.

“You’re going soft in your old age,” Tommy smacks his brother on the back.

Joel shrugs. “Happens to the best of us I guess.”

“Daddy! I’m ready!” Willa calls, bursting into the room, small package clutched in her hands as she rushes to his side.

Joel picks her up with a slight groan, setting her on his lap. “I’m ready, Wildflower.”

She laughs, handing him the box as she pushes her curls from her face. “Carter helped too.”

“I’m excited to see what it is,” Joel smiles, attention solely split between his children as he carefully opens the box.

He’s confused at first, pulling the delicate construction from its box, some combination of paper and old cardboard carefully put together. It takes a second, but then he registers the small arrows fastened into a minute and hour hand against the background. Carter’s oversized numbers unevenly circled around in one to twelve.

“It’s a new watch,” Willa grins brightly. “Cause yours is broken.” She lifts his wrist as if to show him the broken watch for the first time.

You catch the shine in Joel’s eyes and the bobble of his throat. “Thank you. It’s a very nice watch.”

“It latches too,” Carter chimes. “So you can actually wear it.”

Joel inspects it further, seeing where the kids had carefully cut holes in the band and managed to create a fasten.

“Mommy can help you,” Willa says.

You smile, leaning forward to fasten it to Joel’s wrist, right above his first watch, the one Sarah fixed for him. You’re careful not to break it. It’s not the most secure thing in the world, but Joel beams with pride as he shows it to Tommy and Maria.

“Do you like it?” Willa asks.

“I love it.” Joel smiles, squeezing his daughter tight.

Joel falls beside you on the couch with a content sigh, letting his head fall back and his arm across your shoulders as he does. You smile, leaning into him. “You enjoy your birthday?”

“I’m getting too old. Reading that book about put me to sleep.”

You laugh, pulling a blanket around your shoulders to stave off the cool air that drifts in through the cracked window behind you. “It’s a good thing I like you old.”

Joel hums, kissing your forehead softly. “Thank you for doing so much today.”

“It’s not like I don’t cook dinner most nights.”

“You baked a cake.”

You snort. “Attempted to make a cake.”

“Wouldn’t be the first birthday where you messed up the cake.”

You groan, images of the cake you and Sarah attempted to bake for Joel’s 30th birthday flashing in your memory. It had looked nice enough, but tasted like baking soda. Joel chuckles.

“Well,” You let out a soft sigh, holding back the smile that bites at your lips. “Guess it’s a good thing I have a back up plan.”

Joel’s brow creases. “Back up plan?”

“You are getting old,” you tease, your own mouth watering at the subtle cinnamon tinged air. “I thought you would have smelled it by now.”

Joel stops a second, paying extra attention to his senses. His lips tip up almost immediately as he clocks it. “Is that…”

“My mom’s peach pie.” You grin. Her peach pie filling had been legendary on the block and she’d passed along the recipe early on in your life. You made it each year as the peaches ripened, but you had taken care to freeze extra filling for Joel’s birthday this year. “You really expect me to bake a cake without a back up plan?”

Joel laughs again. “I love you.”

“Only for the peach pie.”

“Well duh.” He pulls you closer, leaving a sweet kiss on your lips.

You laugh, returning the kiss. “It’ll be ready in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect… enough time for me to give you something.” Joel reaches down, grabbing a flat package, wrapping in a cloth from under the couch.

“But it’s your birthday.”

“And I like seeing you happy.”

You roll your eyes as he places the thin, square gift in your hands. Your brow knits together as you pull the wrap from it. White corners catch your eye and with two men standing in a doorway. Fleetwood Mac reads centered above them. A small gasp leaves your mouth. You haven’t heard this album in years. Your grandma’s copy had been badly scratched and warped before the outbreak and no one in Jackson seemed to own a copy.

“Finally found that the other day. I haven’t played it yet, so I’m not sure about the condition- but it looked like it hadn’t warped too badly.”

“Turn it on.” You grin brightly, eagerly putting it back into Joel’s hands. Your body thrums with excitement. The songs you haven't heard in so long play in the back of your mind as Joel pulls the vinyl record from the sleeve and places it on the old record player in the corner of your living room.

Static fills the speakers at the needle drops. You both wait with baited breath for the music to start. Monday Morning plays starts without warning, causing you to both jump slightly. A laugh tumbles from your mouth, eyes sparkling with joy as they meet Joel’s. He’s got a similiar joyful expression.

“It’s much more lively than your version,” you say. You haven’t heard the recorded version in over two decades though Joel’s rendition is still a constant in your home. Willa calls it her song.

Joel laughs, walking back over to you. “I doubt Willa will even recognize it.” He holds out his hand. “Come on.”

Your brow knits together as you take his hand. He tugs you to your feet. You secure the blanket around your shoulders as Joel leads you toward the front door and onto the porch. The cool September air greets you. The music filters through the open windows as the opening track fades into the smooth opening of Warm Ways.

“What are you doing?”

”Dancin.” He grins wrapping his arms around you as he begins to sway.

You lean into his embrace, warm between the blanket on your shoulders and his torso against yours, head resting on his shoulder. You sway to the music, eyes closed. Joel’s head rests against yours, his chest rumbles gently as he hums along to the melody, lulling you as close to bliss as you think you’ve ever been.

You nuzzle further into his neck. “I love you, Joel.”

He smiles, kissing your cheek. Both your eyes stay shut, relishing in the touch of the other. “Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that, Sweetheart.”

“Good.”

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa @tobethlehem

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #woman (joel miller)#joel miller fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal

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dinogoofymutated · 8 hours

Note

Hey! I wanted to make a request but I wanna state right away that if you're simply not comfy with it or don't vibe with it - I completely understand!

I'm on my period rn and wanna request some SFW or NSFW head-canons with Kurt comforting F!Reader while on their period. (Totally understand if NSFW wouldn't be your thing for this. Just any comfort HCs at all would thrill me. <3)

I just can't stop thinking about him applying gentle pressure with his hand to my lower abdomen like a heating pad. I feel like he'd be so sweet. Furball cuddles for the win.

Extra note: Your writing is lovely and thank you so much for your posts. They bring me joy and I even reread some of them a few times. I hope you're having a good day/night and I'm sorry for the long ramble. Remember to take care of yourself and drink plenty of water 💜🫂

SFW! Nightcrawler/ AFAB! reader - Period HCs It's finally here!! I'm sorry it too me so long to get to this ask lol. Hope you enjoy! TWS!: depictions/descriptions of Menstrual Cycle, Blood, staining the sheets on accident. Cramps. Please do not read if you're not comfortable.

Kurt 1000000% is one of the best marvel characters when it comes to making sure his S/O is taken care of.

He's thoughtful and cuddly, and he definitely runs hot, so he's quite literally a heating pad/blanket. He hates the fact that you are in pain, even though it's a regular biological thing that happens to so many. He provides for you in any way that he can when you're on your period, making you food, running to the store, making sure you're hydrated and taking your meds.

You tell him to jump, he'll always ask how high.

And he's comfortable buying pads/tampons for you too! He memorised the brand and size you get after the first time you had your period while dating him, and he does his best to remember when you change that too!

He will also buy you the snacks you crave while on your period and will never let you pay him back.

Don't be embarrassed about your period around him. He's seen blood before, and just because it's coming from a vagina instead of a wound doesn't make it disgusting. He respects your boundaries during your period, and has a lot of patience with you if you're the type to get mood swings. He just loves you a lot, and if that includes uncomfortable menstrual cycles from time to time, he's more than willing to accommodate you however you need.

You felt extra groggy waking up this morning. You can’t go back to sleep, but opening your eyes felt like an absolute chore. You didn’t feel well- and you can’t place why at first. You groggily sigh, uncomfortable even in bed, and are immediately comforted by a three-fingered hand soothingly petting your hair.

“Good morning, Schatz.” His voice is soft and sweet. Even in your pain, you smile at him, trying to keep your eyes open just so that you can see him.

“Mornin’ “ You sigh, leaning into his touch.

“Are you feeling well?” Kurt asks, ever the attentive sweetheart. You shake your head at him, moving closer to him so that you can snuggle into his chest. He’s warm and comforting. His tail wraps around you snugly, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. After cuddling for a while, your stomach growls, and Kurt chuckles. He mentions something about breakfast you’re a little too sleepy to remember and gives you a chaste peck before he pulls back the covers and gets out of bed.

You only feel his weight on the bed shift a little before he seems to freeze abruptly.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, slowly blinking your eyes open to see what was the matter. Kurt has this soft, concerned look on his face as he looks at the bed, and then at you, turning to sit sideways where he can face you.

“Love, you're bleeding.” He tells you. You look at him in confusion for a second, before you suddenly recognise that awful sticky wetness between your legs, and bolt straight up. You rip the blankets off, horrified at the sight of blood staining the sheets.

“I'm so, so sorry, Kurt!” You say, frantically trying to sit up and get moving. “- I promise I'll clean up and-”

“Why would I make you do that?” Kurt immediately cuts you off, setting his hands on your shoulders to settle you. “You didn't do it on purpose.” He states. You don’t actually know how to respond, both embarrassed at the circumstances and thankful he’s not mad at you.

“I’ll start the shower for you. Just wash up and let me take care of everything else, okay?” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own before he stands. He kisses you again before he’s gone in a cloud of smoke.

The water is the perfect temperature when you step inside, warm and cozy. You debate on turning the water scalding hot, still trying to shake off the embarrassment, but you don’t. Your cramps become more and more noticeable while you’re in the shower, causing you to ache once you finally shut off the stream. There's a fresh, fluffy towel and a new set of pajamas waiting for you when you step out- ones that Kurt must have teleported in without you noticing. The thought makes you smile.

Kurt had replaced the bedsheets and re-made the bed while you were in the shower, also laying your weighted blanket across the bed. He’s not in the room right now, but that doesn't stop you from curling up under the fluffy cover immediately. You’re so thankful you swear to yourself that you were gonna repay Kurt ten times over with whatever he could possibly want, already knowing that he’d tell you to not worry about it.

You’re lightly dozing, curled up in the fetal position under the covers to fight your cramps when Kurt teleports to your bedside. He’s got a tray of food in one hand with a glass of water in the other. You sit up when he sets it down on the bedside table, and he sits next to you had he hands you the glass, holding out pain meds in his other hand.

“You know how much medicine I take?” You ask, smiling sweetly at him. He’s grinning, his tail swaying back and forth on the bed.

“Why wouldn't I? It's the same amount every time.” Kurt says, tilting his head at you. You quickly take the medicine before you get too sidetracked, and the moment the glass of water is set to the side you pull him in for a kiss that he eagerly returns.

“You’re the best, You know that?” You tell him, and all Kurt does is chuckle. He crawls under the covers with you, sitting by your side as the two of you eat breakfast together. When you’re done, He lays back down with you, setting his warm hand on your lower stomach as he spoons you from behind, pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck. You’re already feeling better when you drift back to sleep again in his secure, comforting embrace.

#x men #x men 97 #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #nightcrawler x men #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner headcannons #nightcrawler head cannons #marvel x men #marvel #marvel headcannons #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert

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reids-slut · 22 hours

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An Invisible Locket

Chapter 2: Deep Blue

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader // Secret relationship

Description: You work with your best friend and your boyfriend. The only problem is, nobody knows Spencer Reid is your boyfriend of over a year. When you find out that Spencer's getting sent out on a case immediately after getting back to Quantico, impulses take over. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, oral sex (M & F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (in a pro-choice context, though Reader ends up choosing to stay pregnant), minor mentions of alcohol and cancer.

As for the crime subplot, much of it is very canon-typical (referenced child abuse & grooming by an extended family member (non-sexual), violence, blood/gore, drugs. As always, please feel free to let me know if I miss any CWs!

A/N: This fic is obviously heavy on the Spencer and Reader relationship, but it's also got a significant Garcia best friend plot line and crime plot line. This fic also features an unplanned Reader pregnancy. Reader debates abortion and is pro-choice, but ultimately ends up keeping the pregnancy. If any of that isn't up your alley, please feel free to skip this fic!

Names used: Baby, baby girl, good/sweet/pretty girl, daddy, good boy (once), my love.

Words (this chapter): 3.1 K

Words (total): 29.1 K

Racing up the two flights of stairs to your apartment door, a slightly out-of-breath Spencer double-checks the time. “48 minutes,” he notes.

“I hope you haven’t already used up all of your energy already, Dr. Reid.”

He smiles and scoffs, “Once I catch my breath, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t joked about that.”

You give him a quick kiss, turn your key, and push your door open.

Clothes are immediately coming off and being thrown onto the floor between sloppy kisses. Spencer sets a few alarms on his phone so that you aren’t late getting back.

You tell Spence to sit on the edge of the bed and get on your knees in front of him, feeling thankful for your soft, plush carpet.

“I need to give you some good visuals to think about since I don’t know how long you’ll be gone, baby.”

“I can’t imagine we’ll be gone for that long–,” you cut him off by taking his cock into your mouth. His head rolls back as his breath comes out stuttered. “Oh, fuck yes. Good girl.”

Spencer pushes your hair out of your face and rubs his thumb across your cheek. Meeting his eyes, you sense nothing but love and adoration. He tries to take a mental snapshot of you like this, on your knees, looking up at him while you suck his dick. It’s moments like these that Spencer really wishes he had a photographic memory.

“You look so fucking good taking me in your mouth, sweet girl.”

He leans back onto his wrists as he watches you work, becoming even harder in your mouth.

Looking up at him like this, chest heaving, jaw agape, brows pinched, pleasured distress painted across his face? This is an image you want to keep.

With every bob of your head, a breathy moan slips out of him. Music to your ears.

In the past, sucking dick wasn’t really your thing. The few exes that you went down on would just face-fuck you. It was never that enjoyable for you, but you did it for your partner because you just thought it was an act of service; one not meant to be pleasurable for you.

Going down on Spencer feels so different. His hands in your hair aren’t to force you down. The pads of his fingers perfectly massage your scalp. Hearing Spencer sing your praises, feeling him grow harder in your mouth, the slight saltiness of his pre-cum. It always has you throbbing.

He taps your shoulder and guides you to stand with him, kissing you passionately as your hands roam each other’s body. The taste of his cock mixes with the taste of his mouth in yours. His wet lips trail kisses up your jaw and down your neck. He can’t stop and you definitely don’t want him to.

A shiver shoots down your spine with every quiet moan and whimper he makes at your ear between kisses. His hands grip the flesh of your ass as he pulls you into his body, grinding your body against his hard, wet cock as you ache of emptiness.

Between kisses, he says, “Need you, baby. Please.”

You crawl onto your bed and lay face down, your pussy and ass bared to him at the edge of the bed. Spencer gently runs his fingers down your back. A chill of anticipation runs through you. A sharp moan escapes you as a flat palm hits your ass, barely enough to sting.

“You’re in that type of mood, huh?” you laugh.

Another spank to the same spot, ever so slightly harder, gets a whiny moan out of you.

“Tell me what you want,” he commands. Even when he shifts to being more dominant, Spencer always just sounds desperate for you.

“Fuck me, daddy?” Your words alone elicit a groan from him that has you arching your back to push your ass further towards him.

He lines his cock up and glides the head between your wet lips, coating himself in you.

“Are you sure, pretty girl?” His hands grip your hips, and he pushes himself into you just enough to not slip out. “Do you want daddy to fuck you like this?”

You moan and nod your head against the fabric of your comforter.

He sinks into you fast and hard, bottoming out. The fullness you’d been aching for hits you all at once, and you whine at the immense pleasure.

The dominance Spencer had exhibited moments prior slips momentarily as he reacts to your pussy wrapped around him.

“God, I love you. So good. Fuck, baby girl.”

He begins moving again as your bodies adjust, first just small movements. You reach your arm underneath you and rub small circles over your wet, throbbing clit.

“Yeah, you touching yourself for me, baby?” His thrusts speed up and he runs his hands down the sides of your body.

“Yes, daddy,” you moan, encouraging him.

“Such a good girl for me. You always look so fucking pretty taking daddy’s cock. Did you know that, my love?”

It doesn’t take much for you to cum today. You didn’t even get much warning, yourself. The sensation of his cock thrusting, repeatedly filling you while you play with your clit. The smack of his hips hitting your ass. His heavenly moans and praise filling your ears. It hits all at once as tears make your vision hazy.

“Daddy—Cumming. I’m—”

“Yes, baby girl. Don’t stop. Let it all out. Such a good girl cumming on daddy’s cock.”

The waves of your orgasm are strong on their own, but you’re also hit with all of the emotion you’ve been repeatedly shoving down and avoiding, bubbling up to the surface. Your body is just so overloaded right now that you’re shaking and moaning. It’s all too much, but you don’t want any less from him right now. He feels too fucking good, physically and emotionally.

“Come here,” he says, helping you reposition so that the upper half of your body is arched into him.

His arms wrap around you from behind, one hand cupping your boob while the other holds you in place at your waist.

In this position, he’s forced to thrust slower, but still hard. He leaves kisses at the back of your neck, behind your ear, and across the top of your shoulder. With each thrust, he’s sloppier.

“It’s so fucking hard not to cum, baby. Do you know how good that pussy feels when you’re cumming? How hard it is to not fill you up immediately? I wanted to feel all of it this time, though. I needed to fuck you through it because you’re being such a good girl for me, today.”

His breathy moans and whispers of praise do nothing to help your body come down from your orgasm. Your ass padding his thrusts changes the angle, the head of his cock stroking your g-spot. The hand that isn’t holding you at the waist flip-flops between caressing your neck and pinching your nipple. He knows your body so damn well. If you weren’t starting to worry about the time, you’d probably be close to cumming again.

Unfortunately, you can’t just say “fuck it” and stay in this bed forever, though, and you know you need to start wrapping this up.

Might as well enjoy the last of it.

“Have I been a good enough girl to get your cum, daddy?”

His hips buck into you hard.

“Fuck yes.” He stops. “But I need to see that perfect face when I do.”

He pulls out of you causing you to shutter from the sudden emptiness. You flip onto your back, butt at the edge of the bed and knees tucked up so you don’t fall off the edge of the mattress.

With your legs slung over his shoulders, he’s back inside you where he belongs. His thrusts build in pace, bringing himself close to that edge again.

“Is this how you want to fill me up, daddy?”

“God, yes. This pussy was made for me. You’re so fucking perfect.”

He leans over you, further pushing your legs down, and wraps his hands at the back of your head. With each deep thrust, he’s pulling your body into him.

“Made for you, baby,” you repeat.

“How the fuck are you mine?” he cries, like he truly can’t fathom it.

All it took was one please.

Looking into his beautiful eyes, you softly plead, “Spence, please cum for me, baby.”

And he lets go.

“Fuck,” he cries. His last thrusts are hard but sloppy. “Such a good girl, taking my cum.” Your nails rake down his back. “Oh my god, you feel so good, baby girl.”

His breaths come out as shuddered sighs. You pull him down to kiss you as the final few jerks work their way through his body.

He tastes so good. There has to be some psychological and/or physiological reason that you love the taste of him this much. You’ll have to ask Spencer about that later because, if anyone would know, it’s him.

Early in your relationship, you’d catch him reading articles and books about sex (which he didn’t need any help with) and relationships.

Hello, green flags.

“God, I probably smell horrible now,” Spencer gripes as he turns off the two alarms on his phone.

“Come here. Let me smell you.”

You lean into him, but don’t smell anything offensive.

“I mean, you smell fine to me, but to be fair, we both probably smell sweaty.” You pull out your best puppy-dog-eyed pout and put on a cringe-worthy cutesy voice. “I’m sorry for making you all messy, Spence.”

You break out into laughter as soon as he does. He brings his mouth to your ear and your smile falls. “Can you still feel my cum leaking out of you, baby? I think you might be the messy one out of the two of us. I want you to think about that when I’m on the jet and you’re still feeling my cum leaking out of you.”

He passionately kisses you while you’re still choking on his words.

As he pulls away from your lips and you snap out of your daze, you playfully swat his chest and whine, “Fuck you. Now I’m sad and I’m horny again.”

“Sad and horny is the Spencer Reid special, baby.”

You just roll your eyes at him.

After finding your pants near the front door and slipping them on again, you catch sight of the time. Spencer has to be back in 21 minutes at the latest, which may seem like a lot of time, but is far from it.

“Almost ready, Spence?” you yell back into the bedroom.

“I just have to put my shirt back on! I’m using a washcloth to wipe some of the sweat off me.”

“Okay, well, hurry with those buttons! I just need to put my shoes on and then I’m going to fix my hair and makeup in the car!”

***

On the very short car ride back with the AC on full blast, you two plan how to arrive back at work without raising suspicions. Spencer, being the expert on behavior between the two of you, quickly coaches you. You’ve been navigating this minefield of criminal profilers for well over a year, but the post-sex clarity says that the lunch break sexcapade was probably not the smartest idea.

“What about Penelope?” you ask, knowing you have to spend the rest of the day lying directly to her face again.

“Stick to your story. Internalize it as the truth to the best of your ability.”

Spencer grabs his go bag out of his trunk on the way in, and since it’s more important that he’s up there before you are, he heads back first. You follow a minute behind him.

Hotch turns the corner out of the bullpen and spots you as you get off the elevator. “Y/N, I’m glad I caught you before we leave.” He gestures for you to walk with him down the hallway, you have to speed walk to match his long stride. “Our flight to Gainesville is two hours. While we’re on the jet, I need you and Garcia to see if you can get anything from the tattoo database using the photos we got from the ME. Also, start on a ViCAP search, if you haven’t already.”

“Of course, sir. Before we left for lunch, Garcia had started digitizing the tattoos, so they’d be more effective when searching the database, and I started on the ViCAP search. We’ll get those finished A-S-A-P.”

“Good. Call me if you find anything.”

“Have a safe flight, sir!”

Hotch continues down the hall, leaving you just outside your office. Something tugs within you, wanting to turn around. Spencer’s just around the corner, probably sitting at his desk. Your heart pulls you in one direction, but logic and reasoning pull you in another as you grab the door handle in front of you.

You just got to see him. You need to stay focused on work.

***

Penelope’s working away at a frenzied pace, but noticeably, she doesn’t turn to greet you like she usually does.

“Status update, hot stuff?” you ask.

“Tattoo database has turned up nothing so far, but it’s still running. I need you to finish up with that ViCAP search.”

Her tone is sharp but holds an air of restrained pain. She’s extremely upset about something.

You tested the waters with your “status update” question and discovered that the waters were, in fact, radioactive.

“That’s what I’m getting back to right now,” you say, sitting down at your desk and logging in to your computer. This unease is heavy; crushing, almost. “Hey, Pen...?” She shows no sign of acknowledgement. “Do you want to tell me what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” she spits out, fully gluing her eyes to her monitor.

If she were upset about something to do with the case, she would have told you already. The FBI offers free and unlimited access to mental health care due to the nature of your job, but when you guys face something distressing, you always immediately lean on each other. You’ve cried into each other’s arms many times within these four walls.

“Do you feel up to a sleepover tonight?” you quietly ask her.

Since you made the move to Quantico, girl’s nights and/or sleepovers have become a fairly regular occurrence. The weight of what you deal with at work—though you know it’s important—would be crippling without some sort of outlet. Asking her for a sleepover is asking her to talk about whatever’s bugging her.

Since you’ve started dating Spencer, it’s been harder to balance your time between the two of them, especially since Penelope thinks you’re single. You’ve told a few white lies about needing to get caught up on sleep or feeling a bit under the weather to fit in more nights with Spencer when he’s not away on a case. His schedule has made things hard, but it’s so worth it.

Penelope stops typing at your question but continues staring at her monitor. Her voice is strained as she speaks; she’s on the verge of tears.

“I still love you and I always will, but I am really upset with you.” She swallows hard. An arrow shot straight through your heart would probably hurt less than this. “We need to focus on this case right now, though, and then I need to organize my thoughts. Come over at seven. But pick up my Ben & Jerry’s on the way because I’m out and I need some of that frozen, delicious goodness to cope.”

Cherry Garcia. Her favorite flavor and a staple of your movie nights. It’s a bit on the nose to be her favorite, but you suspect that’s a part of why she likes it so much. You make a mental note to stop at the corner store en route to her place.

She’s never been this upset or acted this hurt during any of your past fights. But you don’t even know what you did wrong.

It’s not like you missed her birthday, right? You mentally reaffirm both today’s date and Penelope’s birthday and, nope, definitely not about her birthday. She wasn’t mad this morning, right…?

You stop yourself as gears in your head begin to churn, looking for answers you know you won’t find right now.

You search for an item on your borderline-cluttered desk to calm yourself with. Glittery blue eyes immediately grab your attention. You grab a small plush cat that you’ve named Buttercup (because what type of monster doesn’t name every plushie they own?). While petting its soft fur, you focus in on the sparkly pools of turquoise and take a few deep breaths.

You nod at Buttercup, telepathically thanking it for its positive effect on your stress-levels and carefully place it back onto its perch—one of your computer speakers. This case is the most important thing right now.

Your ViCAP search comes up empty for any possibly-related cases, but shortly after, you have a new breadcrumb trail to follow when the Cedar Key Police Department reports another murder.

You and Penelope video call the team while they’re in the air to brief them on what you know about the newest victim. Until the team speaks with the local ME when they land, you won’t know have a ton to work with. In the meantime, you and Penelope will work with what you’ve got, digging into this victim’s background, their friends and family, and any cell phone and financial activity.

Seeing Spencer on the video call hurts extra today. It always hurts knowing that he’s flying away from you for (and, for who knows how long), but sneaking around with him earlier and Penelope being so upset has you more on edge than usual. You’re longing to be back in his arms where you know you’re safe and, more importantly, where you know that he’s safe.

The tension in your small office remains high throughout the day, but you both remain professional and focused on the case. As soon as the workday ends, Penelope locks up her desktop, packs her bag, and leaves. You make another mental note to grab a bottle of her favorite wine on the way. You have a gut feeling that tonight’s going to require more than just ice cream.

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 day

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Officially your bitch || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: basically what happened in s1 ep 2 when Sarah is getting a teddy from the boat with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper watching but obvs slightly different. (you being the one faking being hurt)

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun,

Word count: 977

A/n: canon fics are so fun to write 😫

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"Jeez, man, this is nuts." Topper lets out a low whistle, staring at a boat nestled in someone's garden bed. "Agatha's a bitch," Rafe mutters. "Damn right, she is," Kelce adds as the three boys gape at the sight.

"I can't get it outta my head. It's on repeat. 'Your move, broski.'" Topper repeats JJ's words from a couple nights ago, when a gun was pointed at his head. "Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed right at you!" Kelce chimes in.

"That's what I'm saying. It's insane!" Topper scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Safety off!" he emphasizes, his voice rising. Kelce shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and disdain. "That pogue," he mutters, his tone dripping with contempt.

Rafe, who had been staring intently at the waterline, snaps back to the conversation. His gaze sharpens as he looks at his friends. "They're freakin' pogues, man," he declares, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and exasperation.

"You know, you should get a piece," Rafe suggests, his voice steady as he looks at Topper. The gravity of his words hangs in the air. "What do you mean?" Topper asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he turns to Rafe.

"You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead," Rafe replies matter-of-factly, as if it's the most logical solution in the world. "Better than being caught without one," Kelce shrugs, offering his own brand of nonchalant support. Rafe nods in agreement, his gaze unwavering.

"Listen guys, I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making it a little project of mine," Topper reassures them. Rafe hums approvingly, patting his friend's back. "Yeah, you should," he affirms with a smirk.

Kelce suddenly taps Rafe's shoulder. "Yo, that's y/n." Rafe and Topper turn their heads in unison, their curiosity piqued. They see you kneeling on one knee, talking gently to Joy, your mum's best friend's little daughter.

"Oh, so you left her in the boat?" you ask softly, your voice filled with understanding. Joy nods, her eyes wide with worry. "Okay, can you tell me what she looks like?" you stand up, smoothing down your shorts. Joy looks up at you, her face serious. "She has a trunk and blue eyes," she replies, her small voice clear.

The three boys watch intently as you smile reassuringly at Joy. "Okay, I'm gonna get her for you," you say, turning towards the boat. "Be careful of the electricity," Joy quietly warns. You smile to yourself, touched by her concern, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you carefully step onto the boat.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay. It's really dangerous, so stay there, okay?" you reassure Joy with a confident smile. Rafe, standing a few feet away, removes his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he watches your every move. "What's she doing?" he mutters to no one in particular, his concern evident.

"Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it," your brother scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed by your antics. Rafe glances at Topper, eyebrows raised. "Hey! There's 14,000 volts in those wires," Joy's mum calls out urgently from the porch, her voice filled with anxiety.

You take a slow, deliberate step onto the plank, feeling it wobble slightly under your weight. With a mischievous grin, you glance back at the onlookers, enjoying the attention. A quiet shriek escapes your lips as you pretend to lose your balance for a moment.

"Hey, y/n, be careful!" Rafe hollers, his voice louder and more urgent now. He takes a step forward, his body tense with concern. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," your mum mutters as she walks out onto the yard, her face a mask of frustration and fear. "Y/n, get down now!" she shouts, her tone a mix of anger and desperation.

"Mum, calm down. I'm an athlete. I got this," you reply playfully, flashing her a reassuring smile as you continue your careful approach toward the boat. Your confidence does little to ease the tension among the onlookers. The plank creaks under your weight, but you maintain your balance,

"You're gonna get electrocuted! Get down!" your mum screams, her voice trembling with panic. You ignore her, your focus on the gentle sway of the boat as you step onto it. "She just wants attention," Topper mutters, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Are you kidding me?" your mum persists, her tone growing more frantic. You turn to face her, a playful grin spreading across your face as you shimmy your shoulders, teasingly.

"Oh my—no. When I tell your dad about this, y/n!" Your mum exclaims, her voice a mix of exasperation and genuine fear. "Y/n, that's not fucking funny," Rafe yells in annoyance, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He watches you with a mixture of concern and irritation, unable to shake off the worry that gnaws at him.

"Little fried y/n," Topper comments, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes the scene unfold. Kelce looks at him, puzzled by the comment, but Topper simply shrugs it off. "Top, your sister's crazy, man," Kelce remarks, shaking his head in disbelief as Topper snorts, "Tell me about it."

With a knowing smile, you reach the boat and spot the disconnected wire exactly where you expected it to be. "I see her!" you call out across the yard as you place a steady hand on the boat.

"Y/n!" your mum's voice echoes for what feels like the hundredth time, a mixture of frustration and genuine concern laced in her tone. "When I tell your dad—" Her words are abruptly cut off by your convincing scream as you pretend to slip into the boat. "Fuck—" Rafe's reaction is immediate, his instincts kicking in as he rushes forward.

After a few seconds, you grab the cord, swinging it in front of you with a smile. Kelce breaks out in laughter at your prank, the sound mingling with the collective sighs of everyone watching. Rafe's face fills with relief and annoyance as his tongue pokes agains this inner cheek. "It's disconnected!" you announce with a laugh.

"Holy shit!" Kelce smacks Rafe's shoulder, his eyes wide with amusement as he looks at you, clearly annoyed and unimpressed. "For the love of God," your mum mutters as she slips her sunglasses back on and strides away, clearly needing a moment to recover from the prank.

"She got you good, man," Kelce snickers, unable to hide his laughter at Rafe's bewildered expression. "Absolute suckers!" you crow from the boat, your laughter ringing out triumphantly. "Babe, you should see your face," you giggle, retrieving Joy's teddy bear. "Yeah, okay, yeah, I'm sorry that I care. All right, guilty," Rafe throws his hands up in mock surrender though his face expression remained annoyed.

As Rafe stands there, still trying to process what just happened, he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Congrats, dude. You're officially her bitch," Topper says with a smirk, offering his congratulations in his own unique way. Rafe rolls his eyes at the jest.

"Alright." Topper gives Rafe a hearty pat on the back. "Officially, did you know that? You're officially her bitch, all right?" Topper's laughter rings out as he teases Rafe, but Rafe isn't having any of it. With a swift motion, he slaps away Topper's hand. "Shut the fuck up, dude," he grumbles, shaking his head in annoyance before striding over to you.

"See! Just further proved my point, bro!" Topper yells amidst his laughter, clearly enjoying the reaction he's getting. Kelce joins in, chuckling at the playful banter unfolding before him.

Rafe reaches you, offering his hand despite his lingering annoyance. You giggle at the exchange, finding his frustration amusing. "Are you fucking crazy?" Rafe spits, his irritation evident, but you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

"Aww, I love you too, babe," you playfully pout, quickly kissing his lips before turning your attention back to Joy, handing her teddy bear over with a smile. Rafe stands there with a defeated look, unable to stay mad for long.

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casually-slips-into-coma · 2 days

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spoilers for iwtv s2e5!!!

initial thoughts throughout:

dubai armand in this ep specifically seems a lot happier than normal. very smiley and kind of excited? like more energy than usual. mans was ready to eat

this fucking turtleneck

loumand library dates

hypnotized security as one does

i like that armand likes to hunt his kills. thought it was a cool detail

made me think of when armand tells daniel to run in the book

daniel was there for gay sex the drugs were just a bonus

he barely registered the coffin. he was like ok ig

the zodiac killer lol

daniel struggling to get the tape out of the plastic lmao

some coke for the gums just in case

you were lonely louis (gagged him)

the extreme change in vibe from daniel shitting himself about louis being a vampire to him laughing along while louis complains about his ex

book quotes!!

daniel validating louis complaining about lestat. theyre just gossiping at this point

BIG time asshole

daniel making A Point and then going sorry and louis saying no,,,,,that🫵was astute🗣🗣

“can u do the fang thing again? i love that, man” hes just like me fr

dangerously unstable psyche ((clocked))

im kinda with her get off that bench brother😭 [about claudia leaving]

jacob the actor you are

ok this whole argument between louis and armand was insane and i replayed it like a million times

kinda love louis coked tf out

being called boring fucking hurts thats a wild argument

he called you a soft beige pillow suffocating him girl u gotta stand up

armand really locked on to the word fascinating

louis said lick my boots😝

gremlin sighting👀

“chop my hands off”👀👀👀👀

picking LINT❓❓off the sofa⁉️ ⁉️

armand mocking him “oh its so hard to be me, its so hard to kill humans, i can feel her feelings as i drain her, louis de point du lac, everyone i know wronged me!”

imitating each others accents

my vampire daddy groomed me into a little bitch holy fuck when they go low i go lower

THE NAME!! the name!! unuttered in our home for 23 years said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer!!!!

assad deserves every award my man was actiiiinnggg

she didnt love you/i know

louis :(((

“can u hear her? shes calling me…” ok what if i kms

and then louis runs into the sunlight🙃

hello loml: practical effects

sidestep the big picture get the story straight first daniel said lets lock the fuck in rn we gotta focus

“you said the worst things youve ever said to me” hes just a sopping wet cat

hes fine youre fine this is fine youre all fine

finally seeing unhinged armand ive prayed for times like these

i stand by my cancelled wife btw

small detail of different memories: in louis’ version he apologizes to armand and armand says “meaningless word” and then moves on to talk about the slanted floor. in daniel’s version he remembers the dead guy and the same scene plays out except armand explains he killed the neighbor in between “meaningless word” and how the floor is slanted

vibrating eyes

LOVING how this episode is shot. all the different angles and the camerawork and the fucking MUSIC

canon that louis fucks guys and then kills them fic writers get to it

“128 boys hes brought here—“ “he said it was 5🥺”

daniel basically saying look man ill suck ur dick if u let me go

and then armand making him kneel

armand so unnerving <3

i know its kinda dumb to point out but i love small details of vamp power. specifically how armand picked up that table like it weighed nothing and when he picked up louis

love the idea of louis being like ok just put your feet in the rocks itll help

sopping wet cat armand!!!

but also he really let louis suffer for days instead of just giving him blood to ease the pain😬

lestats voice caught me off guard genuinely

interesting that armand knows where lestat is. i wonder how the show is gonna go about it. is he in the ground??

and refusing to pass along the i love you message……….theres layers here

u left me for death :((

have i atoned for my part of paris👀👀

the armand daniel bite was very do u know what it means to be loved by death

itty bitty armand fangs

need him alive as a testament to our companionship wtf are we even talking about anymore

arun/maitre😵‍💫

the fucking sunglasses im pissing😭😭

he got that shit on tho

welcome back trinity from the matrix

also just the fact that armand came back like yum i had so much fun on that hunt😁 anyway what are you two up to😇☺️

and louis and daniel just had a harrowing 2 hours trying to recover lost memories and coming to the realization that theyve been mega gaslit for decades

armand saying exactly what louis told daniel word for word

a hunch🫢

i love this show

im so excited for next weeks episode this story is unfolding so beautifully. im even more curious now about why and how this second interview is happening. ((also am very confused/curious about what looks like a protest in the promo??))

#iwtv spoilers #iwtv s2e5 #louis de pointe du lac #the vampire armand #daniel molloy #the writers were fucking COOKING with this episode #thank you iwtv for being a bunch of freaks #this is exactly what i wanted #we are so back #vampterview

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fanfictionalraven · 2 days

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Dream Warriors Chapter 10

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 10

Summary: Can our Dream Warriors make it out alive?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, other original characters

Word Count: 3,112

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author’s Note: The grand finale!! I can't believe it's really over. This series has taken me a long time to finally get completely posted. I'm pretty proud of it. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Let's see how it all ends...

Read Chapter 9 here.

Still laying in Dean’s arms, you let out another scream. Dean glares up at the witch as she continues to smirk at the two of you in the floor.

“I’ll kill you. If you take over her body, I will kill you,” he threatens.

“See, I don’t think you’ll be able to. I know how she feels about you and, from her memories, I’m pretty sure you feel the same way,” she says as she walks over and kneels down next to the two of you. “It’s so cliché. The two best friends who are so madly in love but too afraid to cross that line. I’ve seen that movie a hundred times. I think I’ll change the ending.” She rises to her feet and moves over to the refrigerator in the room. Pulling the door open, she looks in and grabs a bottle of water. “Maybe I’ll get the guy.” You grit your teeth and lay your head back against Dean’s shoulder, another pain hitting.

“If I don’t make it, you better rip her apart,” you tell him. He presses a kiss to your temple and shakes his head.

“You’re gonna make it, Sweetheart,” he says before moving to prop you up against the counter. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. The witch looks over and smiles widely.

“Oh, you wanna fight?” She asks, setting the bottle on the counter. “How adorable. The knight in shining armor, willing to die for his love.” You let out another scream and watch in horror as Dean charges at the witch. She merely laughs and with a flick of her wrist, sends him flying into the opposite wall. “Dean, Dean, Dean…” She says as she walks over towards him. “I’ve got the power here. I am in complete control.” He forces himself up and swings at her, knocking her back, stunned. “Why you little…” She snaps her fingers and Dean screams out in pain.

“Stop!!” You scream out, watching as he twists in agony on the floor. “Stop!! I’ll give up!!” She looks at you and raises an eyebrow. You swallow thickly, fighting tears. “Let him go, let him wake up, and I’ll give up. I’ll stop fighting.”

“Y/N, no!!” Dean calls out through gritted teeth.

“Please,” you beg. The witch watches you for a moment before snapping her fingers once again. Dean stops screaming and sits back, leaning against the wall behind himself. “Send him back,” you tell her.

“I will. Calm down. How did you get here though?” She asks, looking back at Dean. He sets his jaw, staring her down. With a smirk, she raises a hand towards you and Dean’s eyes widen.

“A different spell,” he tells her in a rush. The witch nods her head slowly as she thinks this over.

“Like a backdoor…fascinating,” she says mostly to herself. You watch her and frown.

“Send him back,” you say once again. She glances at you and with a wave of her hand, Dean disappears. You let out a sigh and lay your head back against the counter. “Can we at least stop this charade?” You ask. She waves her hand once again and the pain fades away along with your overgrown stomach. Closing your eyes, you can feel the life slipping away from you. It wouldn’t be long now.

“So many regrets,” the witch says, watching you. You glance at her and frown.

“Please stop reading my mind,” you tell her. She laughs lightly and crosses her arms.

“All those different scenarios…all those different plays…this was your favorite,” she says. You sigh and close your eyes again, trying to ignore her. “A normal, happy life. Completely domestic. Married and a baby on the way. You two could have really been happy.”

“I’m just gonna picture Dean killing you now, if that’s okay,” you tell her. She laughs as she sits in one of the chairs at the table.

“I don’t get it. You’re so obviously in love with him, enough to die for him now, but you never said anything. Never made a move,” she says. You groan and shake your head.

“This is not how I pictured the end,” you mumble. She watches you for a moment before waving her hand once again. The kitchen scene disappears and is replaced with a more familiar one. “This isn’t my room,” you comment. You were now resting in Dean’s bed in the bunker. She smiles from her chair across the room.

“You’d rather be in here and we both know it,” she says. You lean back against the headboard with a sigh and close your eyes, thinking about the last time you were really in here. Dean had been beaten up pretty bad on a hunt and you’d stayed the night with him, watching over him and taking care of his wounds. “This is getting sickening.”

“Well it’s still my mind for a few more minutes. I’ll think about whatever I want,” you tell her.

“You could at least picture him naked,” she mumbles causing you to actually laugh out loud. The laugh dies out quickly as you grimace, squeezing your eyes closed a little tighter. As you lose yourself in different memories, one flashes through your mind and you quickly tuck it away before she has a chance to see it too. It wasn’t a happy one. Dean was a demon, hunting you and Sam in the bunker. You’d taken refuge here in his bedroom, a place you knew was stocked with hidden weapons.

“Why didn’t you just kill me?” You ask, forcing yourself to sit up. She glances over at you and rolls her eyes.

“Loophole in the spell. I can inflict pain. I can cause injury but I have to drain the life from you slowly,” she explains as she checks her nails. You nod slightly and swing your legs over the side of the bed. “What are you doing?”

“I just want to stretch my legs,” you tell her. You knew your legs were too weak to support your weight and that’s what you were counting on at this point. “Spell seems complicated. Have you done it before?” You ask, trying to keep her talking so she wouldn’t be as focused on you. She sighs and lays her head back.

“Hundreds of times. I’ve been jumping bodies for centuries now. I’d lost my book in the last jump when I landed in this…child. Kaylee,” she sneers the name with disgust. You glance at her and frown.

“Not a fan of the name?”

“Much too modern,” she says, looking at her nails casually.

“And what do you prefer? Eve?” You question, earning a laugh. She glances over at you, smirking.

“Hardly.” She eyes you for a moment as you continue to gauge your strength. “Morcant was my given name. Of course, you people have modernized it. Morgan.”

“If you’ve done this so many times, why did you need the book?” You ask, standing up carefully. Your legs wobble beneath you. She sighs now, seemingly exasperated by your continued questioning.

“If you must know, it’s the source of my power. Without the book, I’ve got nothing,” she says. It’s only a moment before your legs give out, as you’d expected, and you collapse to the floor with a crash. The witch looks at you and starts to laugh, rising from her seat. “Not as strong as you’d thought, hmmm?” She taunts, dropping down next to you. Your hand slips under the bed and immediately comes into contact with something cold and metallic. You look up at her and smirk.

“No. But I’m strong enough,” you say before pulling the angel blade from under the bed. You drive the spike into her stomach and she screams out in agony.

“You bitch!!” She spits through gritted teeth. Something flashes in her eyes briefly before she smirks. She waves a hand and…

You sit up suddenly with a gasp and take in your surroundings. Six eyes are watching you closely, all shocked. Sam. Cas. Rowena. The pain surges through you suddenly and you let out an unearthly scream as you fall back into the pillows. You’re immediately aware of the body next to you. Despite the pain coursing through you, you realize that Dean is next to you, still unconscious.

“No,” you mumble, trying to reach for him. You hadn’t noticed Sam had left the room until he comes back.

“What’s that?” Cas asks. Sam uncaps the syringe and grabs your arm.

“Morphine. I took it from the hospital,” he tells him before stabbing it into your arm. It acts quickly, numbing the pain. You feel the pull to go back under and reach out for Sam, to ask him about Dean. He takes your hand in his but the drug takes its full effect before you can get the words out.

You come to some time later, groggy and confused. You aren’t in the bedroom anymore. Now, you’re in the dungeon, strapped to the chair in the center of the room. The pain is still very much present but it isn’t as bad as before, the morphine still working. The door to the dungeon opens and Sam steps into the room.

“Sam! Where’s Dean?” You ask. He watches you for a moment then looks down the hall.

“Rowena, she’s awake,” he calls out before stepping into the room fully.

“Did Dean wake up?” You ask, trying to pull against the restraints. The younger Winchester ignores your pleas, arms crossed over his chest. Rowena steps into the room now and walks over. She blows a fistful of powder into your face, causing you to cough. “The hell??” You gasp, triggering the pain in your side.

“Truth spell,” Sam explains. You stare at him for a moment before you nod, understanding.

“Please, hurry,” you beg. Sam waits for a moment, allowing the spell to take full effect. You groan in agony, hanging your head. “Sam, please.” Rowena looks at him and nods once.

“What’s your name?” Sam asks. Something rushes through you, a tingling sensation, as the spell works.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you tell him quickly. You can visibly see the relief wash over him.

“What happened?” He asks as he rushes over to untie your wrists.

“Got an angel blade from under Dean’s bed and stabbed her,” you explain. He frowns and nods. “Where’s Dean?”

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” he says. His words wash over you. That wasn’t possible.

“No. No, she was supposed to send him back,” you tell him. He looks at you and shakes his head slightly.

“What?” He asks.

“I made a deal with her. I’d give up if she sent him back. He…he disappeared,” you say, looking up at Rowena. Her brow furrows as she thinks this over.

“Did you see her die?” She asks. Sam gets you free from the chair and you move to stand quickly. Too quickly. You fall into Sam immediately and he wraps an arm around your waist to support you.

“No. I just…woke up,” you tell them. You begin to pale and Sam frowns.

“Alright, let’s get you back in bed,” he says, scooping you up into his arms quickly. You shake your head.

“No!! We have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam starts down the hall and glances back at Rowena.

“What do we do?” He asks. You groan and lay your head back, closing your eyes. The pain was coming back with a vengeance.

“This is tricky,” she says, shaking her head. Sam carries you back into the bedroom where Cas is examining Dean. The angel looks up from Dean’s still body and manages a small smile.

“It’s Y/N?” He asks. You look over at him and nod quickly before your eyes fall to Dean.

“Rowena, what happened?” You ask as Sam lays you on the bed once again.

“Could she have jumped to Dean? Could she control two bodies at once like that?” Sam asks, looking at the witch. You force yourself up onto your elbows to watch them.

“That would take…decades of practice,” she says, shaking her head.

“She has it!!” You tell them. They all look at you. “She said she’s been doing this for centuries. Jumping from body to body.” You gasp suddenly, remembering. “The book!!” You attempt to force yourself up from the bed but Sam reaches over, stopping you.

“What about it?”

“She said it’s the source of her power. Without it, she has nothing,” you explain as you try to sit up. Cas brings Sam another syringe of morphine and you frown at him. “No!! I have to help Dean!!”

“We’ll figure it out. You can’t even stand right now. Rest,” he tells you, but you shake your head defiantly.

“Send me back,” you say, looking at Rowena. “You sent Dean in. Now send me.”

“That’s too risky,” Cas says, frowning.

“I don’t care about the damn risk!! I have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam nods slightly.

“Okay. Yea. We’ll send you back. Just lay down. Let Rowena get the spell ready,” he says. You watch him for a moment before laying back against the bed once more. Your eyes land on Dean, next to you on the bed. He looks like he’s peacefully sleeping but you can only imagine what she’s doing to him. The slightest pinch in your arm draws your attention quickly. Sam empties the syringe into your arm as you stare in disbelief.

“You lied.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, rising to his full height. Tears flood your eyes as you feel the drugs taking over once again. “We’ll destroy the book and you’ll both be fine.”

“I love him, Sam,” you cry.

“I know,” he says, brushing your hair from your face. “And you can tell him that as soon as you wake up.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead as the morphine pulls you under once again.

***

Some time later, you come to once again, just as confused as the last time. This time you hadn’t been moved. You’re still lying in Dean’s bed only now you have a blanket draped over you and you’re completely alone. Sam, Cas, and Rowena were nowhere to be seen and Dean was no longer next to you. Carefully, you rise to an upright position, wincing only slightly at the pain in your side. A gunshot wound and broken ribs were not a good combination. Forcing your stiff limbs to move, you get your legs over the edge of the bed just as the bedroom door opens.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asks. You break into a wide smile, and if you could, you’d run and tackle him.

“You’re okay!!” You proclaim. He laughs as he walks over.

“I’m always okay. You need to lay back down,” he tells you. Shaking your head quickly, you hold a hand out for him. He takes your hand in his and sits down next to you on the bed. “You need more medicine?” He asks as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep right now. I’ve been out for long enough,” you say. He laughs lightly and nods before dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s good to see you awake,” he says, his voice soft.

“Could say the same for you,” you tell him. He lets out a small laugh drawing you to look up at him now. “What was it?”

“She did pretty good. Had me think I woke up just before she finished you off. Guess she wanted to see if I actually could kill you,” he says, his eyes set on some far off point. Taking his face in your hands gently, you pull him back to look at you.

“Hey. Whatever happened, whatever you did, it wasn’t real, okay? I’m fine,” you tell him, but he shakes his head quickly.

“I couldn’t do it,” he confesses. “I thought if I knew it wasn’t you, if I knew you were gone, I’d be able to put my feelings aside but…” He trails off and you bite at your lip. “We need to have a talk about that will of yours too because that is too much pressure.”

“Will?” You ask, eyes widening. Oh God. “You mean…”

“Arnold showed up. Gave me your letter,” he tells you. Staring at him, your mind races. He read the letter. The letter you’d written at a very dark time, spilling your heart onto paper just for him.

“You really weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. Dean laughs lightly and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Then maybe you should be a little more careful about what spells you get put under,” he teases. You laugh at this and shake your head.

“She’s dead, right?” You ask. He nods quickly.

“Burst into flames right in front of me,” he says. “They burned the book out here, so she…” He makes an exploding motion with his hands, complete with sound effects. You nod your head slightly. “You don’t seem as excited about that as I thought you would?”

“Nothing feels different. I was hoping I’d be able to feel that this was real, to know she was gone, but…” You’re cut off abruptly by Dean’s lips against yours. It’s a gentle and chaste kiss only lasting long enough to shut you up.

“That feel real?” He asks. You swallow thickly and nod, unable to speak. That kiss was different from the ones in your dreams. His lips were more chapped than they had been in your mind. There was whiskey on his breath.

“That letter…” You say, trying to refocus your mind from the kiss. “I was in a pretty dark place and…”

“You’re the best part of my life too,” he interjects. “You’re…everything to me.” Your heart swells at his words. It wasn’t much but it was all you needed to hear. You immediately pull him back into another kiss.

This time, neither of you hold back, allowing every ounce of your repressed feelings to come to the surface. Your dreams couldn’t even begin to compare to the way his touch set your skin on fire as his fingers grazed just below your shirt. He leans in closer, an attempt to lay you back on the bed. You let out a soft, pained gasp as you pull away from him.

“Easy,” you mutter, trying to catch your breath. His eyes widen immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. You laugh lightly and shake your head.

“Give me a few weeks to heal up, then you can get carried away,” you tease. He smiles widely before resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says. You press your lips to his once again, softly. Despite the pain emanating from various places on your body, you’d call this moment perfect. You’d even go as far as to say it was…a dream come true.

The End

Thank you so much to everyone who has enjoyed the story!! I hope the ending was satisfying!! A special thanks to everyone below…

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisyacsa @lailawinchesterr @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @deans-baby-momma @demons-eats-pie-too @brightlilith @kazsrm67 @onlyangel444

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dream warriors

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wangxianficrecs · 7 hours

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Going on charmingly by scribbet

Going on charmingly

by scribbet

T, 21k, Wangxian

Part of the MDZS Reverse Big Bang: 2023

Summary: He pulled the door open smoothly, leaving the noisemaker with their fist still raised mid-knock. He could glimpse white robes underneath a thick and practical-looking travel cloak, but surely no member of his sect would think to barge in upon him in such a way. “Hello!” the interloper exclaimed, a bright smile coming into view as he lifted the sopping veils away to one side. “Would you happen to know how to reach the Cloud Recesses?” Or, a teenage Wei Wuxian arrives at the Lan sect as a (mostly) respected disciple of the Immortal Baoshan Sanren instead of the well-known troublemaker of Yunmeng Jiang. Lan Wangji learns to come to terms with this (eventually). Kay's comments: I haven't read many Baoshan Sanren disciple Wei Wuxian stories so far and I'm always delighted to see them, especially if they are as well done as this one! I really enjoyed Wei Wuxian arriving at the lectures (unknowingly) a few weeks early and getting to integrate himself into the Lan Sect before the other guest disciples joined and him being given the opportunity to bond with Lan Wangji first outside of a classroom. Lan Wangji himself also got his eyes opened to the culvation world's hypocrizy a lot earlier, which I appreciate! All in all, a lovely story! Excerpt:“Your Grandmaster is?” “Baoshan Sanren.” The stranger uttered this as if it was no way remarkable, but Lan Wangji found himself once again lost for words. The immortal Baoshan Sanren had secluded herself and her disciples away for nearly a century now, and it was incredibly rare for any news at all to make its way from her hidden mountain home, never mind an actual person. The last time it had taken place was over a generation ago, and it had caused considerable uproar among the cultivation world – due, as far as Lan Wangji could glean for vague references, to both the exceptional talent of the individual and the thwarted interest several prominent individuals took in them. “Your mother…” He tried to settle on some part of the blithe statement to address first, “…you are the child of Cangse Sanren?” Lan Wangji hadn’t realised it was possible for that smile to light up any further but apparently he’d been mistaken. “Yes! You’ve heard of her! I wasn’t sure if anyone would remember her by now but they must have if you know her name. And you don’t look much older than me, you can’t have met her yourself –someone must have thought her interesting enough to tell you about as well!”

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, cloud recesses study arc, different first meeting, wei wuxian is baoshan sanren's disciple, wei wuxian isn't adopted by the jiangs, genius wei wuxian, petty lan wangji, meddling lan xichen, cultivation sect politics, fluff and humor, getting to know each other, developing relationship, pre-relationship

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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onpointedfeetandbrokendreams · 15 hours

Text

Day 1 - DBDA Week

Day 1 of Dead Boy Detectives Appreciation Week: 10th-16th June by @dbdcentral

Prompt: Things Unsaid

Relationships: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Payne&Crystal Palace&Charles Rowland

Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff

TW: None

“Since this seems to be continuing,” Edwin said while motioning between him and Charles with his free hand. “I think I should tell you about what happened with the Cat King.”

Charles grimaced for a moment, before nodding encouragingly. Even if he appreciated the attempt at understanding silence, Edwin could practically hear the ‘so something did happen!’ in his eyes.

“He, well…” Edwin knew it had been his own conscious decision to start that particular conversation, but now that it was time to actually say the words, he couldn't find them. He exhaled a breath he didn't need. “He did try to get frisky with me.” He went for, remembering the word Charles had used at the time to describe the… ordeal.

“I knew it, that bastard,” Charles was moving to get up from the couch, to do what exactly, Edwin didn't know. It had been almost three years since the events of Port Townsend, it wouldn't make any sense for him to go there and find the Cat King after so long.

Edwin pulled with his left hand, where his fingers were already loosely entwined with Charles’, effectively stopping him from whatever revenge plan he was concocting.

“Nothing happened,” Edwin continued, his voice soft. “And it was nothing… non-consensual.” The words felt weird on his tongue, even if he knew he was using them correctly in the context, and it was the best way to convey the message without risk of misunderstandings.

Charles swallowed hard. “Does that mean you wanted something to happen?”

“I don’t think I knew what I wanted. It took me by surprise, because I thought those kinds of desires were never to be acknowledged. And seeing him touching me so carelessly, so freely. That was…” This time, Edwin wasn't sure what the right word could be. After some consideration, he ended with “interesting”.

“Hmm.”

Edwin tightened his grip on Charles’ fingers again. “You have nothing to worry about, I have never thought about him in that way since we left Port Townsend, and especially since, well… you know.”

It didn't seem to be enough for Charles, as he was still looking uneasy, insecure. Edwin wouldn't have it. A couple of months prior, he would never have dared to admit that to himself, let alone out loud, but considering how they were sitting across one another on the couch with their legs intertwined and Charles’ hand was caressing his knee with the same familiarity with which he would lean on his own, he felt a surge of boldness he had never thought he had in him and admitted:

“Now all of my fantasies are about you.”

Charles went incredibly still, his eyes lost focus, his hands froze in place.

“Is… something wrong?” Edwin tried to ask. He thought about moving away to give him some space, wondering if maybe he had gone too far with the implication. They had kissed multiple times but they had never talked about anything more physical. He didn’t know what to make of Charles’ reaction.

Before he could decide on a course of action, Crystal slammed the office door open.

She took a long look at the scene in front of her, then her gaze stopped pointedly on Edwin. “What happened? How did you break him?”

“I just said-” Edwin started explaining, but was brutally interrupted by Charles, who had finally found his voice back.

“It's nothing, I just needed a moment. You know, there's another case with an abusive father.” He said, like those words explained everything.

It had the desired effect, Edwin thought, because Crystal stopped the interrogation immediately, and draped herself over Charles - and consequently over Edwin’s legs, much to his disapproval - to comfort him.

Of course, Charles’ words did explain everything, or they would have, except there was no abusive father, and no case.

Edwin untangled himself from the other two trying not to push Crystal on the ground while doing so, and moved to look out the window.

After a while, when she decided Charles looked comfortable enough, Crystal followed him and sat at his desk. Edwin almost hated to admit to himself that nothing about the situation was bothering him: not Crystal hugging Charles, nor her taking his usual place at the desk. She was that much part of the agency that he trusted her completely, almost the same way he trusted Charles. Even if, of course, the relationships between the three of them had considerably shifted during the years.

It wasn’t until a day later that Charles and Edwin had a chance to be alone again, and Edwin was determined to keep asking questions until he understood exactly what had happened to Charles. He was in “full stubborn research mode”, as Crystal used to call it.

There was no need, though, because Charles started speaking as soon as they passed through the door:

“I’m sorry about… Making up a case yesterday, I was worried you would tell Crystal the truth.” He chuckled.

“I wouldn't have said exactly the same thing I said to you.”

“Yes, you would have.” Charles continued, his smile turning more affectionate. Edwin had to admit that he was probably right. He had just been so confused and maybe Crystal could help him understand.

“Did it upset you?” He asked. “What I said?”

Charles shook his head. “No, of course not, it was just… Unexpected.” He moved closer, encircling Edwin's waist with his arms, so close their noses were brushing against each other.

“Why? You didn't think that I could want-”

Before he could finish the sentence, Charles pressed a small kiss on his lips, effectively shutting it. He stepped away then, looking decidedly lighter than he had the previous day. “No, I just didn't expect you to be able to say it so… what word did you use? Freely.”

Charles grinned, and slumped on the couch, patting the place next to him in invitation. It was so easy to slot into Charles’ arms, resting his head on his shoulder, and entwining their hands. It almost seemed like they had done nothing else for forty years, instead of just a few months.

“What about before the Cat King?” Charles asked when they were settled, Edwin’s fingers playing with the hem of Charles’ sleeve. “Have you ever thought about us… Shagging?”

“No, I would never have dared to even dream of it.”

Charles moved a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the shorter hair at Edwin's nape.

“I don't know if I'm ready for that now,” he said after a while. “But I would like it too, one day.”

Edwin smiled, turning to nuzzle Charles' neck and pressing a kiss there at the base of his jaw. “Whenever you are ready, I will be here. We have literally forever to figure it out.”

#deadboydetectivesappreciationweek #dbdcentral #renewdeadboydetectives #dbda #payneland #edwin payne #crystal palace #charles rowland

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newtthetranswriter · 19 hours

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Could I request Gojo x male reader where the reader is a ballet dancer who is a part of the Zenin clan but ran away when they were in high school and Gojo doesn't see him again till adulthood and Gojo falls in love all over again and reader never stopped being in love and they reconnect

Dancing with Curses

Word Count: 3822

Paring: Satoru Gojo x male Zenin Reader

Warning: talks of Gojo’s past arc, the Zenin clan is trash, Canon typical violence, possibly ooc Gojo, let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Hello again, I truly did enjoy writing all of your requests. They gave me just enough information to feel free with creating the story but still having a base to work off of. Anyway I hope you enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

Y/n Zenin may have been lucky enough to be born with a decent cursed technique but the fact that he had made it clear he was not interested in following the tradition of being a sorcerer, made it so he was looked down upon by the whole clan. For years he tried to fight the system but as the time for high school approached, Y/n was forced to make a choice. He decided that he would follow his family's wishes for just long enough to get enough money to escape the world he grew up in. For him going to Jujutsu High was just a stepping stone to reach his goal, he never expected to add another item to the list of things his family hated him for.

As previously mentioned, Y/n just wanted to save enough money to escape from the world of Jujutsu, he never planned to catch the eyes of Satoru Gojo. Apparently Gojo had been enamored with how graceful Y/n was with his technique and how he was able to mix Jujutsu with ballet seamlessly. Y/n on the other hand had felt Gojo’s eyes on him, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t see the beauty in the user of the six eyes. But Y/n knew that if he let himself fall or grow attached he would be further trapped in this dark world. So Y/n put his emotions in a box and distanced himself.

Finally after almost three years of dealing with the chaos and horrors of the world Y/n left. Having one of his underclassmen die in the line of duty, followed by one of his classmates turning against them, Y/n was done. He couldn’t handle the thought of spending anymore time watching people die for no reason, or seeing people who were once all about protecting turning to murder. So he gathered his belongings and left in the middle of the night. Leaving the world of Jujutsu behind, almost completely.

Being an outcast from a young age Y/n knew the signs of the Zenins pushing kids out of the inner circle. And even if it was still early and there were a few years left for her technique to develop, Y/n had a gut feeling Maki would need someone on her side. So before he completely wrote off the Zenin clan, he wrote Maki a letter. The girl was barely 4 but was able to understand the simple contents of the letter. Y/n had simply explained that he was always there for her if she needed anything and asked her to not share the existence of the letter with anyone. He also left his new phone number, telling her to call if she ever needed anything. After leaving the letter with his young cousin he left.

When it became clear to the Zenin clan as a whole that Y/n had up and ran away, they decided to act like he never existed. Writing his disappearance off as a blessing to not have to deal with him ever again. While most of the Jujutsu world moved on from the sudden loss, Satoru was unable to follow their lead. He spent the better part of five years looking for him. Unfortunately for him, Y/n did not want to be found and managed to hide himself well. Satoru eventually gave up.

Fast forward eleven years, and Y/n had put very little thought into the world he left behind. He took his freedom and did what he wanted. He became a professional dancer, letting his worries wash away. It was a relief to not think about death and curses everyday. But alas all good things come to an end at some point.

After a particularly tiring performance Y/n felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Seeing that the id indicated it was the one person he kept in touch with, he answered. “Hey, Maki what’s up? Is everything ok?” He asked, concerned. Even though Maki was only four when she got the letter from Y/n she respected his wishes and managed to keep it secret all these years. The reason Y/n became concerned was that when Maki got a phone they agreed she would only call if something was seriously wrong, otherwise she would text monthly just to check in.

The calm teen’s response nearly startled the man. “I know you said you would never return to Jujutsu High, but we need all the help we can get.” Maki explained, there was a hint of worry in her voice and Y/n knew that something was seriously wrong if Maki was asking him to come back. Before Y/n could ask for more information, Maki continued. “Some crazy guy declared war on Jujutsu Society and even though we have Gojo on our side everyone seems worried. There has been an influx of Sorcerers on campus and even Gojo seems concerned. I normally wouldn’t ask for you to come back but if Gojo is worried wouldn’t that mean having all hands on deck be the best course of action.”

Y/n took a moment to think about what Maki had told him. If someone declared war on Jujutsu Society then no big deal, curse users are stupid. But if said person had Gojo worried about it then there was only one person who could be leading this fight. Knowing that fact led Y/n to make a choice he never thought he would. “If it’s bad enough for Gojo to be worried, then having as many sorcerers as possible is a good idea. I’ll be there in the morning.” He knew he would likely regret going back to his old life but he knew the reality, it’s almost impossible to leave the Jujutsu world and stay gone.

“Thank you, I know you hate all of this but I’m sure you’ll be able to leave again when everything is done.” With that Y/n said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. If he was really going to be returning to Jujutsu Society, he knew there was a very slim chance of ever getting out again, that is if he even managed to survive the impending war.

The next day as he promised Maki, he made his way to Tokyo. When he reached the path leading to the hidden highschool, he paused. Debating actually entering the barrier that protected the school and alerting everyone of his presence or just turning around and telling Maki he couldn’t help out. But before he could chicken out and run away again, he felt the presence of familiar cursed energy. Looking up at the stairs that would seal his fate of being part of this fight stood the one person he hoped he could avoid, Satoru Gojo.

It was clear that Gojo had changed since Y/n last saw him, having swapped out his usual dark sunglasses for white badges wrapped around his eyes, his hair was also longer and stood up with makeshift blindfold in place. Seeing the white haired male sent feelings Y/n had long suppressed bubbling to the surface.

It wasn’t any better for the Strongest Sorcerer. He couldn’t believe his eyes, even if he knew that his cursed technique is never wrong, his heart had a hard time believing that the Y/n Zenin was standing in front of him. Gojo had so many questions, like why did he run away, why didn’t he say anything, and most of all why is he back. Snapping out of his thoughts, Gojo moved down the stairs quickly, taking two at a time with ease thanks to his long legs.

“What are you doing here?” It came out harsher than he intended, but with recent events and the bubbling of long forgotten feelings, Gojo couldn’t help it.

Shaking his head to clear the fog, Y/n took in the tall man in front of him. “Well hello to you, Gojo. For the record I’m only here because Maki said that someone declared war and it had even you worried. And knowing you only one person could make you worried about a silly threat. So here I am, isn’t better to have extra hands on bored than facing Geto with fewer people.” Y/n answered, accidentally letting it slip that Maki had been able to contact him all this time. “Now that I’m here, would you mind telling me what exactly Geto is planning.”

Ignoring the request for information about the situation, Gojo focused more on the mention of his student. “Since when has Maki been able to contact you, she was like four when you left. Why would she call you for help?” When Y/n had left after the worry of what happened had passed, Gojo had been angry, and now that anger was showing itself all over again.

“Yes Gojo, Maki was four when I left. But you forget I was also raised in the hell scape that is the Zenin house. I also know what it looks like when those douchebags start making a child an outcast. When I left I gave her my phone number and told her if she needed me she could call. And you would never guess what happened. She saw that her teacher was worried over some psychopath declaring war on the people she cares about and called someone she trusts to ask for help. I’m not here for anyone but her.” Y/n clarified, and it was clear from his tone that he truly meant it. He was only coming back to the world of curses to help his young cousin. Not giving Gojo a chance to respond, Y/n brushed past him heading up the steps into the base of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

Gojo was left stunned by his own stupidity. The only guy he can remember ever truly having feelings for was right in front of him, and instead of expressing his joy of seeing him again he stuck his foot in his mouth. Watching after Y/n as he left, Gojo began thinking of ways to apologize for what just happened and ways to hopefully convince Y/n to stay even after they beat Geto.

On December 24th, Y/n opted to stay at Jujutsu High with Maki and Yuta as a line of defense just in case. Afterall he wasn’t technically a member of Jujutsu Society so it’s not like the Higher ups could actually tell him what to do. He also had a bad feeling about them sending everyone except a couple Assistant supervisors to the front lines. If Geto had asked Yuta to join his cause wouldn’t that mean he had an interest in the boy. So when the veil was lowered over the school, Y/n jumped into action.

He knew he didn’t stand much chance against a special grade like Geto, but he couldn’t just let the lunatic kill a young sorcerer. Y/n’s technique had only earned him the status of Grade 1 back in highschool, but that was eleven years ago and this would be his first fight since he left. He could only hope he still had the strength to hold off the Curse User long enough for help to arrive.

His own fight with Geto didn’t last long before a new contender entered the courtyard where the two adults were exchanging blows. Having also noticed the veil, Maki opted to join the fight. So now it was two on one, the two Zenin outcasts vs. the special grade Suguru Geto. The cousins were able to hold off Geto for about thirty minutes before Geto got the upper hand. The younger of the two had been severely injured, having likely multiple broken bones and severe cuts leaving her half conscious in a pool of her own blood. The older of the two was not much better off. Y/n had sustained a few broken ribs, one of which he wouldn’t be surprised to find out if it was digging into his lung as it was becoming difficult to breathe. But he was still able to stand and so he was still able to fight.

There was a brief moment that allowed Y/n to catch his breath, and that was when Geto paused, announcing a hole was made in the barrier. He seemed confident enough that whoever it was would be too slow and he could beat Y/n and take Yuta before they arrived. Y/n took in a few deep breaths, sensing the cursed energy of two people approaching fast. Seeing that Geto wasn’t reacting to it, Y/n waited until the wall exploded next to the long haired man before striking again.

Unfortunately even with the added help of Panda and Toge, they were still unable to beat him. When they turned their backs on Geto to check on Maki, the curse user took the chance to take out the oldest of the group. Striking Y/n in the back with curse, Geto managed to force the broken rib that was already threatening to puncture one of his lungs right through said lung. The force of the blow knocked what little air Y/n had in his chest out, and now with the loss of function in one of his lungs it was nearly impossible for Y/n to catch his breath. The two first years who were still able to fight tried to fight back but were unsuccessful.

Y/n fought to stay awake and even tried to warn Yuta who had appeared on the scene to run away, but alas with barely any oxygen getting into his body, he could barely make a sound. He was fading in and out of consciousness and couldn’t help but wish for Shoko to be there to heal his wounds. Slowly suffocating was really fucking painfull. The last thing he remembered before blacking out completely was Yuta using Rika to move the four injured sorcerers to safety and applying his own reversed curse technique to them. As the world faded Y/n silently thanked Gojo for not executing the young special grade.

Unlike the other three who woke up soon after Yuta beat Geto, Y/n was still unconscious three days later. While Yuta had been able to heal the majority of the injuries y/n had sustained, it seemed Shoko was needed for some of the more intense ones. When word got to Gojo that Y/n was injured and that even after Shoko had been able to treat his wounds was still asleep, Gojo was worried. He spent as much time as he could spare sitting by his bed in the infirmary.

Gojo spent the time thinking. Debating on how to thank Y/n for risking his life for the young sorcerers and trying to decide if it would be a good time to tell him he loved him. Yeah Gojo had officially decided that he loved Y/n Zenin, it wasn’t just a school crush. Having spent eleven years apart and suddenly seeing him again reminded him of everything he loved about Y/n. Even though he admitted to himself that he loved him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe telling him would be a curse to the man who clearly just wanted to escape the world of Jujutsu.

Caught up in his own reminiscing, he failed to notice that Y/n had started to wake up. He only noticed when he heard the quiet groan from next to him. Looking over he could see Y/n squinting his eyes at the light from the open window, and trying to take in his surroundings while still laying flat on the bed. Gojo quickly stood up, closing the blinds to darken the room, and then moved to help Y/n sit up. “Here let me help you sit up.” He said, causing Y/n to look at him bewildered. “I know I was rude the last time we talked but I was worried when they said you still didn’t wake up after both Yuta and Shoko used rct on you.” Gojo explained quickly.

Taking a moment to process the words said to him, Y/n looked around the room. Seeing a glass of water on the bed side table, he quickly took a drink before speaking. “How long have I been asleep? And what happened to the kids, is everyone okay?” He wasn’t that worried about himself, his main concern was whether or not the young sorcerers had made it out of the battle alive.

“Everyone is fine. Well, everyone on our side, that is, the kids are all okay. They’re taking a few days to relax before getting back to training. As for how long you were asleep for, well it's been about three days.” Gojo informed him. “And before you ask, Geto won’t be a problem anymore.” His tone of voice shifted from glad to something lingering with sadness.

Picking up on the change of tone Y/n understood what he was implying. “I’m sorry for your loss, I know you were really close before everything. But it’s great to hear that the kids are okay.” He said truthfully. Taking a moment to think of what to say next, one thing popped into his mind and he couldn’t shake it. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you have some important mission that only the Strongest can deal with?” Y/n asked, trying to switch the subject.

Having spent three days thinking over and planning for how to speak his mind didn’t prepare him for what he was going to say. “Um, I just wanted to express my thanks for you risking your life to protect the first years. If you hadn’t decided to show up or stay behind while we all went to the front line, who knows what would have happened to those four. I mean sure Panda probably would have been ok, but the others might not have been so lucky.” Gojo thanked him.

Y/n nodded along, but that didn’t fully answer his question. Gojo was there when he woke up, if he just wanted to say thank you then he could have done it after someone else told him Y/n was awake. “I think they would have been just fine. Maki is a strong fighter and Toge has a great understanding of his technique. And Yuta has a surprisingly great understanding of cursed energy for someone who just learned about curses a few months ago. But the strength of your students aside, Why are you here? And don’t say it’s just to say thank you. You were here when I woke up, if you just wanted to thank me then you could have gone about your day and then thanked me when someone told you I was awake.” He confronted the white haired male.

Gojo scratched the back of his head trying to decide if he should say he just happened to stop by to check on him right before he woke, or if he should tell Y/n the truth. Realizing he had been quiet for too long and that if he did lie Shoko would probably rat him out either way, he came to the conclusion that honesty was the best policy. “Well, I’ve kinda been here the whole time. Like I said before I was really worried when Shoko told me you hadn’t woken up after being treated. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained. Watching as Y/n’s face shifted from confusion to shock, Gojo couldn’t stop himself from talking more. “And I know this is probably a terrible time to bring this up, especially with how I reacted when you showed up the other day. But I really care about you Y/n. When you left back in highschool, I thought something terrible happened to you and I searched for you for years. I eventually figured that if you went through the struggle of leaving with out a trace there was probably a reason and so I stopped looking. But the worry turned to hurt and anger and I guess seeing you suddenly and hearing that you only came back for Maki’s sake, made that anger bubble up again. I understand you left for a reason and you probably want to leave as soon as possible after all this life is hell for anyone. But I do want you to know that you mean a lot to me.” This was the first time Y/n had seen or heard of Gojo letting his emotions out in such a clear way. Gojo was always calm and only really expressed deep emotions when fighting or teaching, so having him say all of that really shocked Y/n.

Y/n took a few moments to process everything Gojo said, before making the second life changing decision of the month. “While I left because this life is taxing and full of hardship, I don’t know if I can abandon it again. I wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping teach the next generation of sorcerers.” Y/n explained. “This isn’t a permanent situation though and I will have some requirements that need to be accepted before I commit to it. After all, I can't leave the ones I care about to fight alone if I’m able to lend a helping hand.” he finished making his intentions to at least stick around for a short while clear.

Even though Gojo was happy to hear that Y/n was going to stick around, he was confused by the wording of the last sentence. “Wait you said ‘the ones’ you care about, I thought you came back for Maki.” He couldn’t help but ask.

Y/n just laughed before responding. “You’re right I did come back for Maki. But there are more people here that I care about than just her. Now I may have just woken up from a three day nap, but I’m exhausted so if you don’t mind I’m going back to sleep.” With that Y/n layed back down rolling to face away from the tall sorcerer.

“Who else do you care about here? I’m confused.” Gojo really wanted answers.

Y/n responded even though he was half asleep. “That’s for me to know and for you to figure out Satoru.” And with that Gojo was left as the only one awake in the room.

He sat in silence processing what he had been told. And when he registered that y/n had not called him Gojo but used his first name for the first time, he couldn’t hide his smile. Deciding to let Y/n rest in peace he left to inform everyone about Y/n’s decision to consider staying at Jujutsu high for a while.

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x male reader #jjk x male reader #x male reader #newt writes #Newt's 2024 pride event

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