#(it might be. it’s late and i’ve been writing too much fanfic)

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

don’t mind me, i’m just thinking about these photos of alex and miles with fans who look like dfwya era miles and humbug era alex 🫠

[zombvibes]

anyways zombvibes suzberd fanfic when.

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Froyo

Synopsis: During a premiere red carpet with Drew, an interviewer’s question accidentally reveals that a seemingly ordinary dinner was actually Drew’s attempt at a first date covered by two random tiktoks. Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count A/N: I know I still owe you guys a Gwayne Hightower fanfic, but the chokehold Drew fucking Starkey has on me is insane. btw, I realized this is the second time I've created a fic based on real people vs the normal Marvel character thingy I do. And to be honest, there's gonna be a lot more... so maybe I should make this a series considering they're all triggered by an interview and Y/N's always an actress lol. ALSO at the end, there's a poll on what you think should happen next, and best believe I'll do my best to write that.

There’s an edit circulating on TikTok of you and your co-star Drew Starkey from your red carpet interview together. You’re both starring in an Amazon limited series about college classmates who become close after witnessing your professor’s murder and are now on a shared mission to solve the crime. You’ve known him closely for a year now, but have been following his career even before that. I mean, who wouldn’t? The man is gorgeous. But of course, you couldn’t let him know that.

As shooting began, the two of you grew closer, and you decided to be professional and put that whole fascination aside. You’ve both even dated other actors and celebrities, which have also been topics for gossip channels and paparazzi photos. Despite all that, you’ve hung out plenty, mostly in groups but also during breaks in filming—often grabbing lunch and coffee together.

Today, you and Drew are laughing as you finally see the edit that’s been at the top of both your PR’s nightmare list.

You’re dressed in an elegant beige gown, skin-tight and slightly sheer, which Carrie Bradshaw would definitely call the naked dress. Your hair is pulled back in a low bun, bangs effortlessly framing your face. You’ve just arrived at the red carpet, taking your time to chat with interviewers. The first few questions are light, mostly about how fun it was working on set and, of course, what you're wearing.

After a few minutes, Drew catches up to you. He’s in a baby blue suit, sepia shades covering his eyes, smelling incredible. His presence is like a tight, warm hug—well, a little tighter on your chest. His voice sends tingles down your spine as he whispers, one hand casually placed on the small of your back.

“What did I miss?” He smiles at you and the interviewer.

“Oh, nothing much, I was just telling Amelia how you’re always late to everything.” You smirk, shooting a playful look at the camera. Amelia, your interviewer, raises her eyebrows dramatically, playing along. Both of you laugh as Drew backs away, feigning offense.

“I’ve been here since like—” He starts to defend himself.

“Like five minutes ago,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Valid,” he agrees with a shrug, laughing.

Amelia continues her interview, moving on to ask about the possibility of a second season.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to do a second season, for sure,” you nod, glancing at Drew, who’s nodding along, letting you take the lead. “But I’m not sure if it makes sense, since it was originally written as a one-season story. For that to happen, someone might have to die again so Kelsea and James can investigate something new.”

Kelsea and James are the names of the characters you play—who, of course, end up dating on the show.

“So you’re saying someone has to die for the two of you to get back together on set?” Amelia jokes, her deadpan delivery only making it funnier.

“I mean, I don’t know!” You laugh. “You’re twisting my words, Amelia!”

“I honestly think you just don’t want to hang out with me anymore, Y/N,” Drew chimes in, a playful pout on his face. “I’m hurt.”

“Is that why there wasn’t a second date?” Amelia asks, teasingly. Her tone is light, but the question lands hard. Drew’s eyes widen in surprise, his smile freezing as if even he didn’t see that one coming. He covers his mouth, trying not to laugh while you stand there, looking utterly confused.

“Second date? What?” You laugh, trying to figure out if this is some sort of red carpet joke you weren’t briefed on. You glance at Drew, who’s just shaking his head, still grinning but not offering any explanations.

You lower your voice, leaning towards him, “What is she—what date?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to maintain your cool, though the confusion is clearly written all over your face. Drew glances at Amelia, then back at you, and you can tell he feels a little bad now.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Drew admits, “When we got dinner and froyo.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process.

“That was a date?!” you whisper-yell, smacking his arm, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “You said it was just dinner!”

“I know!” Drew laughs, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I said that because I thought you didn’t like me back! I was sending out signals!”

“What signals?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. “That’s unfair, you said it was just dinner! I feel so bad—I didn’t know!” You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it apologetically. You’re both laughing now, but you’re also genuinely flustered.

“I did tell you!” Drew protests. “I said, ‘Do you want to have dinner with me?’ And you were like, ‘Are we bringing Madz along?’ And when I said no, you were like, ‘Why?’”

“That is not enough, Drew!” You laugh, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your PR team is probably dying, but at least this little moment might boost some publicity for the show. You actually remember the video Amelia might be referring to; your assistant had sent it to you a few months back. You found it interesting and even funny because you honestly thought it was just a fan shipping the two of you together—cutting together videos and photos of you and Drew when you were out to eat. You try to recall what that day was like and pick apart whatever signals Drew was referring to, but you really can’t remember anything different from the way he’s interacted with you since you two first met.

You realize the gag has gone on long enough and decide to wrap it up before the awkwardness can escalate further.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry about this,” you say with a dramatic sigh, trying to regain your composure. “Even while confessing his undying love for me, he’s still late. Men, what can you do?”

Drew, still chuckling, wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of apologizing. You feel a warmth settle over you, even as your mind is still catching up to everything.

The camera flashes pop around you, and suddenly, those TikTok edits of you looking perpetually confused start to make a little more sense.

When the premiere starts, halfway through the screening, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You check your makeup, but instead of heading straight back to the theater, you decide to take a moment. The whole "date reveal" situation has thrown you off more than you realized, and you need a second to process it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, replaying the interview in your head. You haven't had the chance to talk to Drew about it since, and the thought lingers in the back of your mind. You don’t want another clueless moment to make it into the tabloids.

You wash your hands, fix your makeup, and prepare to head back out. But as you step through the door, you see Drew standing there, waiting.

“Well, look who it is—the jokester,” you say, crossing your arms with a mock grin. “Here to ask me out on another one-sided date?”

Drew smirks, stepping closer. “Huh? What are you talking about? I’m just here to pee,” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Not funny,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but feeling a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His smile softens, and for the first time since the red carpet, you can tell he actually feels a little guilty. “I really am.”

“You should be!” You huff, but your tone is playful now, your annoyance melting away as you meet his eyes. "That was so long ago."

Drew takes a step closer, and you suddenly become very aware of the quietness around you. It’s just the two of you now, the noise of the premiere distant, almost forgotten. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words. “About that second date…”

“You mean actual first date?” you correct him, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool.

Drew pauses, then chuckles softly. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actual first date. What do you think?”

You stare at him, caught off guard. You weren’t expecting him to just put it out there like that. His easygoing nature usually means he hides behind jokes or avoids direct confrontation. But now, with no cameras, no noise—just you and him—he’s being sincere.

“You know,” you say, your voice quieter now, “if you made it clear the first time, I still would’ve said yes.”

Drew’s eyes widen slightly, and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Really.”

His grin widens, and there’s something boyishly excited about it, like you’ve just given him the best news of the day. “No froyo this time, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh. “Because that wasn’t a date.”

“Duly noted.” He steps closer, his hand brushing yours, and this time it doesn’t feel accidental. His fingers curl around yours lightly, the touch sending a spark through you.

“You know, we could leave early,” he suggests, glancing back towards the theater. “Skip the rest of the screening, maybe grab some dinner… somewhere where I make it clear it’s a date.”

You bite your lip, considering it, but your eyes narrow playfully. “And deal with the wrath of our PR teams later? You must love living dangerously.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You make a good point. But I promise, after all the photos, after all the interviews... we’ll do this right.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, you both walk back into the theater. His hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before he finally lets go, and even as you take your seats for the rest of the screening, the air between you has changed.

You glance at him once more, feeling that familiar warmth return, only this time, it’s not confusing or awkward.

The noise of the film dims around you, though you’re still hyper-aware of the room, the hundreds of eyes on the screen, and the occasional flash from the press in the back. Drew leans back in his seat, arms crossed loosely, but he’s not watching the movie either. Instead, he looks over at you, catching your eye.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly face forward, pretending to focus on the movie. But then, from the corner of your vision, you feel him move slightly closer. The tension that was always there, that you’d pushed aside so many times, is undeniable now.

After the premiere ends, there’s the usual round of applause and the hum of people slowly rising to leave. Drew stands up first, offering you his hand, and even though you can stand up just fine on your own, you take it. There’s something about that gesture that feels significant—like you’ve crossed a line you didn’t realize you were approaching until now.

You’re both still in work mode, nodding and smiling at the industry people you pass, but the moment you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face, Drew turns to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do you feel about grabbing that dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard by how fast he’s moving. “Tonight? We just got out of the premiere,” you laugh, though there’s excitement bubbling under the surface. “I know, but if I wait any longer, who knows what crazy schedules we’ll get caught up in again.” He steps closer, his smile genuine, warm. “I’ve waited this long to actually do it right. What’s a few more hours?"

“Alright,” you say, a grin breaking through. “Let’s do it. Dinner—our actual first date.”

His eyes light up. “Great. I know a place.”

The restaurant Drew takes you to is tucked away, quiet and intimate, and you laugh at how quaint it is, most of the other diners are old enough to be your grandparents. You feel comfort knowing most of them don't have phones let alone know who the both of you are. For all they care, you could be two kids coming home from a costume party just ending the night with a bite.

“So,” you say as you both sit down, menus in hand but neither of you really looking at them. “This is what a proper date feels like, huh?”

Drew leans back in his chair, grinning. “Better than froyo, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Significantly better.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, the kind where you both just look at each other and realize this is happening—really happening. You’re on a date with Drew, and it’s not some PR stunt or a casual hangout. It’s real. And for the first time, you’re letting yourself want it. "You think they're wondering why we're over dressed?" You hide behind a menu. "Overdressed? Excuse me? This is what I wear everyday." Drew retorts, making you chortle.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand, “What’s the plan after this? Froyo?”

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

He grins, eyes glinting with that same playful energy you’ve always liked. “Well, I’ll make sure tonight’s memorable enough that it overshadows that.”

Check my other stuff out too? | M A S T E R L I S T

Feedback, likes and reblogs are appreciated!!!

HMU WITH AN ASK IF U WANNA GET TAGGED

Permanent taglist!!! ( i don't even know if these ppl r still on here man) @gracielou0518 / @memory-of-a-goldfish / @thatbitchsaidhi / @xxashy999xx / @queenlouisa2001 / @shliic / @speggehi / @blackdaisybitch / @tuliptx / @m-a-t-91 / @milkshakeslou-blog / @fireboltrose7559 / @justmesadgirl / @makloveswritingofficial-blog / @cocacola-cocaine / @impalatobakerstreet / @laochbaineann / @justakpopfan4 / @kiramotherofsnails / @yknott81 / @heartssick / @thisismysecrethappyplace / @oldwhalien / @padackles2010 / @lolabean1998 / @ayee-style

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ HOCKEY PROBLEMS ୧

summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.

notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!

warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.

୨୧

My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.

Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.

And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.

Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.

Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.

Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.

Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.

After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)

Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.

The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.

The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.

On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.

Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.

FLASHBACK

I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.

As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.

I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.

I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.

He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.

“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.

I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.

Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.

"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."

“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.

As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.

I never went back to those lockers again.

END OF THE FLASHBACK

I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.

The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.

The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.

As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.

Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.

The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.

Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone

Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.

“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.

My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"

The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.

I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.

Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,

Cameron.

"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.

My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."

Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way

I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.

Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.

"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.

He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.

Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”

The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”

“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”

Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.

Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”

He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.

Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.

“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.

"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”

“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.

“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”

Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”

“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.

Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.

I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.

As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.

Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.

“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.

I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”

Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.

He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."

Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.

I kiss his head “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He answers quietly.

୨୧

hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.

also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Words Unspoken (mattt Murdock)

Summary: you're so glad to have Matt around

Warnings: fluff

WC: 590ish

Read on Ao3!

-

New York City’s nighttime hum surrounded the two of you, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows down the alley. The chill in the air was a stark contrast to the warmth radiating between you and Matt Murdock as you stood close enough to hear his steady, controlled breathing.

You glanced up at him, his features softened by the dim light. Despite his blindness, Matt’s presence was always so focused, like he could see you better than anyone else ever had. His sharp senses must have picked up on your accelerated heartbeat or the way you shifted from one foot to the other, nervous energy buzzing between you.

The fight with the latest gang causing havoc in Hell’s Kitchen was over, but the tension between you and Matt still lingered, thick and palpable. For months now, the two of you had danced around this unspoken thing, working side by side to protect the city while never quite acknowledging the pull that drew you together.

Tonight, though, something was different. He had gotten closer during the fight, his body brushing against yours more often than necessary, his hands lingering just a second longer when he pulled you back from harm. And now, here you were, standing so close, his chest rising and falling just inches from your own.

Matt tilted his head slightly, lips parting as if he were about to say something, but the words never came. Instead, there was that silence again—the silence that made your heart race faster than the fiercest battle.

“I know you want to kiss me,” you said suddenly, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them. It wasn’t a challenge, but a simple statement. The tension had built too much, and you were done pretending that you didn’t feel the same way.

Matt’s lips twitched into a small, surprised smile, and for a moment, he said nothing. His fingers flexed at his sides, almost as if he was contemplating reaching for you, but he held back.

“I do,” he admitted softly, his voice rough but sincere, as if he had been holding back those words for longer than you could imagine. His face tilted towards yours, his lips hovering dangerously close, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

The city noise seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate moment. The world might have been falling apart outside this alley, but here, with Matt, it was quiet.

"Then what are you waiting for?" you whispered, leaning in just enough to close the distance.

A barely audible laugh escaped him, the smile fading as he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was at once soft and intense. The electricity that had been building for so long finally surged through you, and the world around you disappeared completely.

For once, Matt didn’t hold back. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel his heart beating just as wildly as yours. Every touch, every gentle press of his lips against yours, spoke the words neither of you had dared to say until now.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Matt rested his forehead against yours. He smiled softly, a contentment in his expression that you hadn’t seen before.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered.

With a grin, you brushed a strand of hair from his face. “I think I do.”

--

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

MARVEL PERM: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @late-to-the-party-81 @capsthot @kenzieam @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

MATT MURDOCK: @hallecarey1 @yarrstyleeza @sloppyzengarden

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

can you please write a fanfic of lyra meeting acacia/grayson meeting her parents🫶

ofc!! i kind of wanted to do a little twist with this and instead have it be graysons brothers meeting lyra’s family bc i feel like i’ve been writing about acacia gigi and sav+ grayson and lyra a lot lately and wanted to switch it up a bit 😭😭 thanks so much for the request tho!!

also, on a side note, in the deleted scenes of tgg, lyra mentions having MULTIPLE brothers, so in this fic she’s going to have two little brothers, one being 9, and one being 4 going on 5, aka the one mentioned in the actual book. the 4 year olds name is gabriel, and the 5 year olds name is lucas. yes ik they’re basic but i thought of them quickly so don’t judge me pls 😢

synopsis: it’s meeting the family time, and lyra’s family + graysons brothers get together for a dinner. lyra’s family seems to be getting along well with the 4, except for just one person… lyra’s dad. 😬😬

Meeting the Family - lyra x grayson

———————————————————

LYRA:

I paced outside my parents’ bedroom as I waited for them to get ready. In 5 minutes, they were supposed to go to Hawthorne House to have their first official family dinner. In 5 minutes, my parents were going to officially meet Grayson. My insides were in a twisted knot, and I thought I might explode right then and there if I hadn’t felt a tug on my skirt. Looking down, I felt more relaxed once mygaze met the brown eyed boy’s.

“Catty,” Gabriel, my 4-soon-to-be-5 year old brother, had decided at 2 that instead of calling me Lyra, Catty, short for Catalina, was a much better nickname.

“Catty.” He repeated with a furrow of his brow once his first call had been ignored.

“Sorry, what is it Gabe?” I asked him, patting his gelled hair that had taken forever to do as he didn’t stop complaining once.

“Can we play legos? Mommy and Dad aren’t ready yet, and-“

“Mommy and Dad are right here, baby. We can go now.” My mother’s voice cuts in, a bright smile on her face. Both my mom and dad had done a good job of dressing up, and I felt a bit relieved although I knew Grayson and his brothers would never judge my parents on how they dressed either way. Strolling out of the bedroom that he and his brother shared, Lucas, my other little brother, was wearing the fanciest-but-not-too-fancy outfit a 9 year old could wear, with a pair of black sunglasses perched on his nose. He was wearing a little watch, and honestly, despite the put together look, he had never looked more adorable.

“You’re looking fancy, Lucas.” I said, a grin tingeing my voice. Lucas nodded, before grinning himself.

“Can we go now? Grayson is rich and I want to see his house.” Lucas said, immediately cutting to the point. My mom snorted as she took Lucas and Gabriel’s hand and led them to the car, mean while my Dad just bristled, mumbling “our house is nice too” as he followed them.

—————————————

As soon as our car pulled up to the front gates, I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. I had seen it before, but damn, this house was huge. Even Lucas was shocked, whispering about how cool it was under his breath. One of the bodyguards escorted us inside, and as soon as the actual gates opened and they were in, I was met with Graysons patient smile. He was holding a bouquet of lilies, and the sight of him shaking my father’s hand as he greeted him made my heart flutter. He had opted for a suit, as usual, but it was more casual, almost as if he was finding ways to tell me that I could breathe, and that this entire get together wasn’t so fancy as I had imagined. As soon as Grayson had finished shaking hands with my parents and making introductions with my brothers, his eyes met mine, and I stepped forward, taking the bouquet out of his hands before he could properly give them to me.

“I’d prefer lilacs.” I deadpanned, tugging at the beautiful flowers with fake boredom. My mother snorted, but Grayson’s smile only grew as he took my hand in his and spoke.

“I’ll note that down. Welcome to Hawthorne House, Mr. and Mrs. Kane. Dinner will be officially ready in 30 minutes, but in that time…” He turned around and met my eyes, sending sparks of electricity through me. “How many of you guys would like a tour?”

I had seen Hawthorne House before. But due to the amount of “awesome”’s whispered by my brothers and the hushed remarks by my parents, they clearly hadn’t. It felt good knowing that at least my Dad, who had always been strict with dating, didn’t and couldn’t have anything bad to say about this house. Because good god it was nice. Finally Grayson takes my hand and leads us back to the dining room.

“Dinners completely finished now. My brothers are all in the dining room too, and they can’t wait to meet you guys.” Graysons states in a civilized manner. I could tell he was trying to impress my parents, but honestly, he didn’t have to try too hard. His money was doing all the work for him.

“I can’t wait to meet them.” My Dad replied. But knowing him, I could tell that there was something else in his tone. Something almost off. I turned to give him a look, but Grayson spoke and changed my train of thought.

“Then let me introduce them to you.”

I had obviously met Xander, Jameson, and Nash before in the game, and also afterwards, but my parents hadn’t yet.

“Hello boys.” My mother said, her tone polite. “It’s so nice to meet you three.” They all smiled at her, but Xander was the first to speak.

“Hello to you too! If you were to get a gift, not now, but at any given time, how would jewelry sound?” He replied. Jameson, and Nash both groaned, while muttering, “real discreet”, and, “seriously xander? those gifts were supposed to be a surprise.” My Mom had a surprised expression on her face as she realized they’d gotten us gifts, but I just turned my glare to Grayson. I said no gifts, I very clearly communicated with my eyes. He, however, wouldn’t meet my gaze and instead held eye contact with my mother. Very slick, I thought with a snort. My Mom was about to say something about how they didn’t have to do that or whatever other motherly card she always pulled, when my brother spoke up.

“Gifts are nice.” Lucas interrupted, as if trying to change the topic. “Anyway, Grayson, You said your brother has a lab. Can we check it out?” Gabriel, who was much more shy than his brother, nodded, clinging to me as he ducked his head right back as soon as everybody looked at him. I rolled my eyes at Lucas’ statement, well aware of where this conversation was going to go.

“Please tell me you didn’t bring your book of nightmares.” My Mom groaned, tutting at Lucas. I smirked as Grayson met my eyes with confusion.

“His science book,” I explained. “It is a huge book filled with tons of different science experiments, but the problem is, a lot of them require laboratory ovens.” I turned to Lucas, giving him a look. “Lucas is prone to thinking that our very not-meant-for-science microwaves count as a laboratory oven. He is also prone to lighting things on fire.” Lucas made a face, but Xander just grinned.

“Lighting things on fire is apart of science. And to answer your question, Lucas, yes I do have a lab, and yes, you are able to check it out after dinner.” Xander said, excitedly. Clearly though, he was not as excited as Lucas, as Lucas was wearing the biggest grin on his face. He turned to me suddenly, a question on his face, and I nodded, to which he immediately whirled around and faced Xander again.

“Thank you!” Lucas said, grinning. Nash smiled as he glanced between the boys, before speaking himself.

“You two are two sides of the same coin, you know. Lucas reminds me so much of when Xan was little.” He spoke, his eyes soft as he glanced between the boys. Grayson smiled then too, taking my hand and gentle pressing his thumb onto my wrist once his gaze meets mine. I already knew what he was trying to tell me by the expression on his face. Don’t worry, he seemed to be saying, everything is fine. I smiled back at him and he took that chance to change the conversation.

“Now,” He said, cutting into the conversation, “Shall we eat?”

The dinner was nearing its end, as most of the plates on the table were close to being finished. Everybody had been making conversation throughout the dinner, everybody except for my oddly quiet father, with my mother telling embarrassing stories about me growing up, and Gray’s brothers telling embarrassing stories about him. I giggled mischievously at Grayson once Jameson finished telling a story about how Grayson once skipped out on a “911”, a brotherly pact between the 4 that meant when somebody texted or said the numbers 911, then that meant the other brothers had to come, and had to stand in his underwear out in the cold on the side of a road. I could tell by the teasing looks that the other brothers were sending Grayson and the terrifying looks that Grayson was sending them that there was more to the story, though, and made a mental note to bug him about it whenever I got the chance. We were just finishing up eating when a woman that had been introduced to me as “Mrs. Laughlin” walked in.

“I hope you all enjoyed the dinner.” She said, with the slightest smile. We all nodded and gave praises to her delicious food, and that made her slight smile grow the smallest bit.

“Good to know. Now, Lyra and your family members, my husband is just in the other room having a drink. Would you like to meet him before dessert?” She asked us. I looked around at my Mom and Dad, before answering myself.

“We’d love to.” I said with a polite smile. My mother agreed and got up, grabbing my brother’s hands as soon as they got out of their seats too, before my father spoke.

“I will in just a moment, I just need to finish up my food.” He said in a kind tone, smiling at Mrs. Laughlin. Mrs. Laughlin gave the slightest nod in response before beckoning towards us to follow her. I slowed in suspicion, though, before casting my father the barest glance. He met my eyes, and I raised a brow at him, as if asking him what he was up to. He just smiled at me and turned his attention to his food, his eyes hard as he took another bite. My eyes met Grayson’s next, giving me a smile and dipping his head the slightest bit, his movements meant to ease my nerves. I blew out a breath before casting my father one last look, turning around, and following my family out of the dining room.

GRAYSON:

I knew what was going to happen throughout the entire dinner, and why Lyra’s father was awfully quiet. Keith Kane waited a moment or two as he stared at Lyra, Mrs. Laughlin, and the rest of them walk away to the sitting room, before turning to me, his steel blue eyes hard.

“How old are you?” He asked me. I could feel my brothers sending glances my way as they realized what was going on, but I didn’t meet their eyes once. I could handle this.

“23, sir.” I answered.

“And how old is my daughter?” I could tell by his tone that he already knew, but I held his gaze anyway and answered.

“20.”

“How many years are between you two, pray tell?”

“3, but we met when I was 22 and she was 19.”

“Are you a pervert?” Jameson snorted, but his expression quickly changed from the look that Lyra’s dad was giving him, and he morphed his expression into a neutral one. I side-eyed him, before meeting Keith’s gaze and speaking again.

“No, sir.” I answered. He held my gaze with a dangerous expression, before folding his hands together on the table, looking at them as he spoke.

“My daughter has never been much for boys. She has believed, for much of her life, that relationships were useless, as well as most boys.” His gaze met mine, slowly and methodically. “The fact that she’s with you tells me that, for whatever reason, she believes that you’re not useless.” For whatever reason. I tried my very best not to smile. Apparently, Lyra wasn’t the only person in the Kane family who didn’t pull their punches.

“Lyra, in the past, has tended to make the same useless boys cry in group projects. She knows her worth and will not stand for anything less than. She also likes you,” Keith Kane said, his eyes boring into mine. “A lot.” I swallowed. The way I felt for Lyra wasn’t as simple as simply liking someone. I loved her.

“I’m not going to demand that you stay away from my daughter or do a whole “touch her and I’ll kill you” bit because A, this isn’t the 1950’s where women can just be somebody’s property, and B, she’s gotten to the age where she doesn’t need my protection anymore. I am, however, going to ask you one final question,” He said, his dangerous stare from before turning sincere as his brows furrowed. “Do you love my daughter?” In my head, and in my heart, I knew the answer to that. More than anything. But I knew that a man like Lyra’s father would need more convincing, so that’s exactly what I did. I convinced him.

“A few years ago I was in a very bad place.” I admitted suddenly, making Keith’s brows furrow more. I could feel my brother’s surprised eyes turn to mine, but I wouldn’t meet their gazes. I would do anything for Lyra, and if getting her dad to trust me was one of those things, then I would sure as hell do it. “My grandfather, the only parental figure I ever really had, died, just after a girl that I had previously loved died as well. I was emotionally unavailable, and cruel, and a damn train wreck, and even though months later I had brushes with love, I still screwed it up because I was cold and hung up over a dead girl. By the time I was 20, I was convinced that there was nobody in this world who could love me, because I was convinced that I was unloveable. I was convinced that every painful moment, and every death of a loved one took that part of me away, until there was nothing left of me to love.” I paused when Keith’s hand brushed mine, remorse in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, son.” He said, sincere despite his words from before. I felt something unwind in my chest from Lyra’s father calling me “son”, but I brushed it off and continued talking.

“Me and Lyra met when I was 22. I had stopped feeling sorry for myself every moment of every waking day, and decided that maybe, I could actually do something for myself. Feel even when I didn’t want to. Cry even though tears were always a crime in my childhood. I could see a reflection of myself in Lyra, a piece of my soul in hers, and that’s when I knew that love didn’t have to be impossible for me.” I barely smiled, the ends of my lips ticking up by a hair. “I wanted to change for Lyra. Not just because I wanted her to love me even half as much as I loved her, but also because I didn’t want to hurt Lyra all because I was emotionally unavailable. And it became easier, too. Every time she opened up for me I knew that I wanted to open up for her too, to change the habits that I had been force-fed as a child and the way I loved as well. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up again, because I was so in love with her that I couldn’t bear the idea of losing her, because I knew, if I lost a girl like Lyra, I would be living the rest of my life in a state of constant mourning. You don’t move on from a girl like that. You just can’t.” I was laughing now, shaking my head.

“So, in short,” Jameson said, cutting into the heart-to-heart, “Grayson took one look at Lyra and decided he wanted to change the trajectory of the rest of his life.” Nash and Xander nodded along, muttering “yeah”’s and, “that basically summed it all up”’s. Keith Kane snorted before turning his attention to me again.

“So,” He said, his eyes twinkling. “What you’re trying to say is you love her?” I did a half shrug.

“More than anything.” I replied, the answer I had meant to give him all along. Lyra’s father held my gaze, before nodding, and getting up.

“You’re a good man, Grayson. You deserve to love, and you should feel honoured knowing that you are very loved by a girl like my daughter.” He finally said, shaking my hand across the table as I stood up too. I truly smiled then, my heart full.

“I’m very aware.” I say softly. He nods again, before turning to my brothers.

“If you try involving my daughter in your hullabaloo bullshit that you were telling me about in your stories, you very likely might wake up without all 10 of your fingers.” He said calmly. Nash, Jameson, and Xander’s eyebrows shot up, and I could see that they were trying ridiculously hard not to laugh. “No standing in underwear on the side of the road. No glitter bombing her room. And,” He turned his gaze to Xander. “Absolutely no involving her in those projects of yours where you tend to lose an eyebrow or two.” Xander just beamed, not bothered by the threat.

“So you were listening!” He said, with a grin. He shrugged.

“It got too hard to tune out your ridiculous stories.” He replied. I snorted, and was about to speak before Mrs. Laughlin walked in.

“Introductions have been made.” She said matter-of-factly as she ignored the past tension of the room. “Now,” She smiled warmly at Lyra’s family walking in as well as me and my brothers, and in my head, I could picture a life where our two families could be joined together as one. “Who wants dessert?”

——————————————————————————

while making this i saw a post saying that they wanted to see lyra’s dad call grayson “son”, and somebody sent me an ask saying they wanted a fic about lyra’s dad being overprotective so this is just me killing two birds with one stone LMFAO 😭 (tobias hawthorne who?)

[muiitoloko]

Okay. Hear me out: Snape and the Hogwarts professor/wife. Actually I don't even care *which* Alan character you do, but picture this:

Y/N has had a busy time lately and has been flustered. Their birthday is coming up and they'd love nothing more than to get away from the hullabaloo and relax.

*He* in all his glorious self decides to pitch a tent in the woods with fairy lights and a campfire and everything, at the edge of the woods, and surprises Y/N by taking them on long car ride into the middle of nowhere and they camp out under the stars and maybe get down and busy and dirty, IYKYK (and *I* know you know) in the field beneath the stars.

Please and thank you and have fun :)

Title: Gunslinger’s Love

Summary: On a secluded night in the Australian bush, Elliott Marston surprises his wife with a passionate anniversary celebration. Their love story unfolds amidst the wild beauty of the outback.

Pairing: Elliott Marston × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: Oh, I love this idea! Pitching a tent in the woods, fairy lights, campfires, long car rides, and getting down and busy under the stars—sounds like a dream! 😏 I can already picture it all!

And to keep things interesting, I’ve decided to write it with Elliott! There’s just so many Snape fanfics out there, I thought I'd give some love to a character who doesn’t get enough of the spotlight. Elliott deserves to get in on this magic too, don’t you think? 😉

Also read on Ao3

Elliott urged the horses to move faster, the creak of the wagon’s wheels adding to the quiet tension of the night. The stars glittered above like tiny diamonds scattered across a velvet sky, but all you could focus on was your growing curiosity—and mild annoyance. You clung to Elliott’s waist, your arms wrapped around him as the cool night air nipped at your skin.

“Elliott,” you called out over the sound of the horses’ hooves. “Where on earth are you taking me at such a late hour?”

Elliott adjusted the brim of his hat, his signature Zappa mustache twitching with amusement as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “I told you, darling,” he said in that deep, smooth baritone you loved so much, “it’s a surprise.”

You huffed, not entirely convinced. “A surprise in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night? And we’re camping? What if there’s a wolf or—heaven forbid—a snake? I don’t fancy being turned into a midnight snack for some wild animal, Elliott.”

Elliott rolled his eyes with an exasperated smile, patting the rifle strapped to his side. “Woman, I’m the best gunslinger in all of Australia. Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you while I’m around?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though there was a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “You might be the best gunslinger, but you’re not invincible. And this still doesn’t explain why we’re camping! There are perfectly good beds at home, you know.”

Elliott chuckled, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “You’ll see soon enough, my love. Just sit back and trust me, hmm?”

You gave a playful pout, leaning closer to his ear. “I’m not convinced, but I’ll go along with your little adventure. If I hear so much as a howl, though, you’ll be the one getting a taste of this wagon’s hard bench all night.”

Elliott threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the empty plains. “That’s a fair threat,” he teased, “but I think you’ll change your tune once we get there.”

After what felt like an eternity of bumping along the uneven trail, the wagon finally slowed, and Elliott pulled the horses to a stop. You squinted into the darkness, trying to make out your surroundings, but all you saw were the tall, shadowy outlines of trees.

“Where are we?” you asked, your voice softer now, tinged with curiosity.

Elliott jumped down from the wagon and turned to offer you his hand. “Come on,” he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You hesitated for a moment, still not entirely sure about this whole camping idea, but you trusted Elliott. Taking his hand, you let him help you down, and together, you walked into the trees.

As you stepped deeper into the forest, the darkness began to give way to a soft, warm glow. Your eyes widened in surprise as you spotted several oil lamps hung from tree branches, their flickering light casting a romantic golden hue over the clearing. A soft blanket had been spread out on the grass, surrounded by cushions, and there were wildflowers tucked into every available crevice.

“Elliott…” you breathed, utterly taken aback by the sight before you.

Elliott stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Happy anniversary, my darling,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth. “I thought we’d celebrate under the stars this year.”

You turned in his arms, gazing up at him with a mixture of awe and affection. “You did all this for me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elliott’s hazel eyes sparkled in the soft light. “Of course,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I know it’s not the most conventional way to celebrate, but I wanted something special. Something that reminds us of how simple and beautiful things can be when it’s just the two of us.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him. “You hopeless romantic,” you teased, though your voice was full of affection. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Elliott raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Just because I’m a ruthless gunslinger doesn’t mean I can’t be romantic,” he said, his voice dripping with charm.

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I suppose I shouldn’t complain, then. It’s…perfect, Elliott. Really.”

He kissed the top of your head before stepping back, guiding you toward the blanket. “I knew you’d come around,” he said, his voice teasing but filled with tenderness.

You then released Elliott from your embrace and approached the romantic scene he had so thoughtfully set up for you. As your eyes scanned the soft blanket, the cushions, and the wildflowers tucked into the crevices of the trees, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of affection for your husband. He wasn’t one for grand displays of emotion, but this…this was different. It felt like a piece of his heart laid bare just for you.

Turning your gaze to Elliott, you saw him pulling the tent out of the wagon, along with the basket of food you had prepared earlier. He made quite the picture—his baritone voice humming quietly as he worked, his Zappa mustache twitching with concentration, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his handsome face in the flickering lamplight. You smiled to yourself as you moved to help him set up the tent.

As soon as Elliott saw you approaching, he shook his head in mock protest. “Now hold on there, darlin’,” he drawled, his Australian accent thicker than usual. “I told you to relax. This is meant to be your night. No need for you to lift a finger.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow as you stood your ground. “Elliott Marston, I’ve been running this household like a well-oiled machine for years. Don’t think for a second I’m gonna sit back while you do all the work. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

Elliott chuckled softly, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. “Stubborn as a mule, you are,” he said with a smirk, but his voice carried a deep warmth. “Fine, if it makes you happy, we’ll set this bloody tent up together.”

As the two of you worked side by side, you couldn’t help but feel a little mischievous. The close proximity, the quiet rustle of the forest, and the romantic glow of the lamps brought a playful energy to the air. You caught Elliott sneaking glances at you more than once, and each time he did, your heart fluttered a little faster.

After a few minutes of quiet teamwork, you broke the silence with a teasing tone. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know. Our wedding anniversary’s still a good two weeks away.”

Elliott paused, his hands gripping the edge of the tent as he turned to look at you, his expression softening. “I know,” he said quietly, his baritone voice losing some of its gruffness. “But I’ve seen how stressed you’ve been, with all the chores and runnin’ the house. You’re always on your feet, always lookin’ after everyone but yourself. I figured, why wait two weeks to celebrate? I thought it’d do us both good to have a bit of time away from all the chaos.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help the affectionate smile that spread across your face. “You big softie,” you teased gently, moving closer to him. “I didn’t know you were paying such close attention.”

Elliott smirked, reaching out to pull you into his arms. “I always pay attention, darlin’. I may not be the most romantic bloke, but I notice things. Like how your shoulders tense up when you’ve been workin’ too hard, or how you bite your lip when you’re thinkin’ about a million things at once.”

You leaned into his chest, resting your head against his broad shoulder as his arms tightened around you. “I appreciate it,” you whispered, your voice soft with emotion. “More than you know.”

Elliott’s fingers trailed down your back, his touch firm but gentle. “I reckon I’ve got a good way to help you relax, love,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “Why don’t you lie down on that blanket, and let me show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me?”

You felt a shiver of anticipation run through you at the way his voice dropped, that familiar commanding tone slipping into his words. “Elliott,” you breathed, your cheeks flushing as you looked up at him. “You always know how to push my buttons, don’t you?”

He chuckled darkly, his mustache twitching as a wicked smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “That’s ‘cause I know exactly what you need,” he replied, his eyes darkening with lust. “And I’m more than happy to give it to you.”

You moved toward the blanket, feeling the warm glow of the lamps flicker around you as you settled onto the soft fabric. The air was cool but not uncomfortably so, the distant sounds of the wilderness adding to the intimate atmosphere that Elliott had so carefully prepared. With a contented sigh, you reached for the basket of food you had prepared earlier in the day, the smell of roasted meats and fresh bread mixing with the earthy scent of the forest. But before you began arranging the meal, you set the basket aside, knowing Elliott would want to be part of this shared moment.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him finishing with the tent, his strong hands moving deftly as he secured the last of the pegs in place. Once done, he wiped his hands on his trousers, straightened up, and walked toward you with that signature swagger of his, his Zappa mustache twitching with satisfaction. The sight of him, illuminated by the soft light of the oil lamps, made your heart race. He looked rugged, powerful, and undeniably handsome, the kind of man who could command a room—or a wilderness—with nothing more than a glance.

Elliott knelt beside you, taking off his wide-brimmed hat and placing it carefully to the side. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and something more primal that made your breath catch. Without a word, he helped you arrange the food on the blanket, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the simple act of being close to you. His fingers brushed yours now and then, sending little sparks of electricity through your skin.

As the food was spread out, Elliott unbuckled the holster strapped across his chest and carefully laid his pistols and rifle to the side, close enough to reach in case of trouble but far enough to let him relax. The soft clinking of metal was the only sound breaking the silence between you, but the tension was palpable, the air thick with anticipation.

Elliott stretched out beside you, his hazel eyes glimmering in the lamplight as he looked up at the stars scattered across the inky sky. “Look at that,” he murmured, his deep, baritone voice vibrating through the quiet. “Not a damn cloud in sight. Couldn’t have asked for a better night, eh?”

You smiled, leaning back on your hands as you gazed up at the stars too. “No,” you agreed softly, “it’s perfect.”

But your attention wasn’t on the stars for long. You turned your gaze back to Elliott, watching the way the firelight danced across his rugged features, making him look even more handsome. The roughness of his face, the hooked nose, the strong jawline, and that damn mustache—everything about him exuded strength, but tonight, there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you that made your heart flutter.

“You’re starin’, darlin’,” Elliott drawled with a smirk, his voice laced with amusement. “What’s on your mind?”

You shifted, moving closer to him until you were almost touching. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “You went to all this trouble just for me.”

Elliott chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your body tingle. “Ain’t no trouble,” he murmured, reaching out to trail a finger down your arm. “Nothin’s too much for my girl.”

The way he said it—possessive, protective—sent a shiver of excitement through you. His touch, though light, felt like a promise of something more.

As the night deepened and the stars above burned with a cold, distant light, Elliott rose to gather some nearby branches. His movements were purposeful, each step deliberate as he searched for the driest wood to build a fire. You watched him from your place on the blanket, admiring the way his broad shoulders moved under the fabric of his shirt, the light from the oil lamps casting his features in sharp relief. There was a primal satisfaction in seeing him work, in knowing that this strong, capable man was yours.

With the firewood gathered, Elliott crouched near one of the lamps, carefully lighting a small bundle of kindling before transferring the flame to the pile of branches. Within moments, the fire crackled to life, its warm glow chasing away the night’s chill. Elliott sat back on his heels for a moment, watching the flames dance, before returning to your side.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the Australian bush your only companions. Elliott stretched out beside you on the blanket, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes, now softened by the firelight, met yours, and he gave you that familiar, crooked smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

As the fire crackled warmly in front of you, Elliott reached over and plucked a piece of roasted meat from the basket, holding it up to your lips with a smirk. “Open up, love,” he said in that deep, commanding baritone, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You playfully rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you obliged, taking the tender morsel from his fingers. The taste was rich, smoky, and perfectly seasoned—the result of hours spent preparing the meal earlier in the day. Elliott’s gaze lingered on you as you chewed, the firelight casting a golden glow on his rugged features.

“Mmm, you sure know how to spoil a girl,” you teased after swallowing, your voice light but full of affection.

“Only the best for you,” he replied, his tone warm but with that familiar edge of possessiveness that always sent a shiver down your spine. He reached for another piece of meat, and this time, you leaned forward and took it directly from his fingers with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes never leaving his.

Elliott’s smirk deepened, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Cheeky little thing,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle brush of his lips against yours, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hand coming up to cup the back of his neck.

The taste of the roasted meat still lingered on your tongue, mingling with the warmth of his mouth as the kiss grew more urgent. Elliott’s hand slid up your back, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat of his body seeping through your clothes. The blanket beneath you was soft, the fire warm, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you—the way his fingers tangled in your hair, the way his lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent your heart racing.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re playing with fire, Mr. Marston,” you whispered, your voice shaky with desire.

“Darlin’,” he replied, his voice low and rough, “I’m more than happy to get burned if it means I get to taste you again.” His words sent a wave of heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but shiver in response.

Elliott’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched your reaction, and he didn’t waste any time closing the distance between you once more. This time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t soft or gentle—it was fierce, hungry, as if he was trying to devour you whole. His hands roamed your body with a roughness that left you gasping, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you onto his lap.

You straddled him, your skirts bunching up around your thighs as you ground against him, desperate for more of that delicious friction. Elliott groaned into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he pressed you even closer, his arousal hard and insistent beneath you.

“Christ, you feel so good,” he muttered against your lips, his accent thick and dripping with desire. “Been thinkin’ about this all bloody day.”

You moaned softly in response, your hands fisting in his shirt as you rocked against him, seeking relief from the growing ache between your legs. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath. “Please…”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hazel eyes burning with intensity. “Please what, love?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with an unmistakable edge of command. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing with both desire and embarrassment. Elliott always knew how to push your buttons, how to make you beg for what you wanted. It was maddening, but it also made the eventual release that much sweeter.

“Please… touch me,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with need.

Elliott’s eyes darkened further, and he let out a low growl of approval. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips bruising against yours as his hands moved to the laces of your bodice. With practiced ease, he began to undo them, his fingers working quickly as he stripped you of your clothes.

The cool night air kissed your skin as your bodice fell open, and Elliott wasted no time in slipping his hands beneath the fabric to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching as he teased you, his touch both rough and gentle at the same time.

“Look at you,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. “So bloody beautiful.”

His words, coupled with the feel of his hands on your skin, sent you spiraling further into desire. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you ground against him, desperate for more. “Elliott… please,” you begged, your voice shaky and full of need.

He let out a dark chuckle, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Patience, love,” he said, his voice rough with lust. “I want to take my time with you.”

But you were beyond patience, your body aching for his touch, for the release that only he could give you. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice breaking. “I need you.”

The raw need in your voice seemed to break through his restraint, and with a low growl, he flipped you onto your back, his body covering yours as he kissed you fiercely. His hands were everywhere—on your breasts, your hips, between your legs—stoking the fire that burned inside you until you were trembling with need.

Your body trembled beneath Elliott’s touch, every nerve ending ignited by the rough, deliberate way his hands roamed over your skin. He was taking his time, savoring every reaction, every shiver, and moan that escaped your lips. You knew this game well—he loved to tease, to draw out your pleasure until you were begging him for release. And as much as you loved his slow, torturous build-up, tonight you wanted something different. Tonight, you craved something raw, something that would satisfy the urgent need burning within you.

As Elliott’s lips moved to the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands teasingly tracing the curves of your body, you made a decision. You weren’t going to let him take things at his own pace—not this time. You wanted him, and you wanted him now.

Before Elliott could continue his slow, deliberate exploration of your body, you reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him up to meet your gaze. His hazel eyes, darkened with lust, flickered with surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but you didn’t give him a chance to question it.

“Elliott,” you murmured, your voice low and husky with desire, “I need you to fuck me… but before that, I want to taste you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with intent. Elliott’s eyes widened slightly, his nostrils flaring as he took in your request. His Zappa mustache twitched with a smirk, his baritone voice rough as he replied, “You cheeky little minx. You know how to push my buttons, don’t ya?”

You smirked up at him, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a teasing kiss. “I know what I want,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “And right now, I want your cock in my mouth.”

Elliott groaned, the sound low and guttural as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes blazing with a mix of surprise and desire. “You’re a bloody temptress,” he growled, his Australian accent thickening with the intensity of the moment. “But who am I to deny my girl what she wants?”

With that, he shifted, moving to sit back on his heels as he undid the buttons of his trousers with a deliberate slowness that made your heart race. You watched, your breath coming in short, eager bursts as he freed himself from the confines of his clothes, his hard cock standing proudly before you, the sight of it making your mouth water with anticipation.

Elliott’s eyes never left yours as he leaned back, bracing himself on one arm while the other hand guided his cock towards your lips. “Go on, love,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “Show me what that pretty mouth can do.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Leaning forward, you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. You licked your lips, your eyes locked on his as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head as you sucked gently, savoring the taste of him.

Elliott let out a low, satisfied groan, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he guided you, his grip firm but not forceful. “That’s it, love,” he muttered, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just like that… bloody perfect.”

You moaned softly around his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver of pleasure through both of you as you took him deeper, your lips stretching around his thick length. You could feel the muscles in his thighs tensing beneath your hands, the way his breath hitched every time your tongue flicked over a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Elliott growled, his accent rough and raw as he watched you, his hazel eyes dark with lust. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up.”

But that was exactly what you wanted. You hollowed your cheeks, increasing the suction as you took him deeper, your hand stroking the base of his cock in time with the movements of your mouth. The taste of him, the feel of him filling your mouth, sent a wave of arousal straight to your core, and you moaned again, the sound vibrating through him and driving him wild.

Elliott’s grip on your hair tightened, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he fought to maintain control. “Christ, you’re good at this,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. “But I’m not done with you yet, love. I wanna see you take every inch of me, feel you clench around my cock while I fuck you senseless.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, and you knew that as much as you wanted to bring him to the edge with your mouth, you wanted even more to feel him inside you, to have him bury himself deep within you as he lost control. With one final, deliberate swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock, you pulled back, releasing him with a wet, needy gasp.

Elliott’s eyes blazed with a mix of frustration and lust as he watched you, his chest heaving with the effort to control himself. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “But you’re gonna get exactly what you’re askin’ for.”

Before you could respond, Elliott was on you, his hands rough and demanding as he pushed you back onto the blanket, his body covering yours with a fierce intensity that took your breath away. He didn’t waste any time, his hands pushing up your skirts as he settled between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against your entrance with a delicious, teasing pressure.

You gasped, your back arching as you felt the heat of him against you, your body trembling with anticipation. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice shaky with need. “Please… don’t tease me… I need you inside me.”

Elliott’s eyes darkened further, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control. “You want it, love?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “You’re gonna take every inch of me, and you’re gonna love it.”

With that, he thrust into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful, unrelenting motion that left you gasping for breath. The sensation of him filling you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, your body trembling with the intensity of it.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Elliott groaned, his voice rough and raw as he began to move, his hips driving into you with a fierce, demanding rhythm. “So tight… so bloody perfect.”

You moaned, your hands clawing at his back as you clung to him, your body arching up to meet his every thrust. The intensity of his movements, the way he filled you so completely, drove you wild with desire, your mind consumed by the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Elliott,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop… please… don’t stop…”

But Elliott had no intention of stopping. His thrusts only grew harder, deeper, each one driving you closer to the edge as he took you with a rough, primal intensity that left you breathless. The sound of your bodies coming together, the heat of the fire, the feel of his cock stretching you with every thrust—it was all too much, too perfect, and you could feel yourself spiraling towards release.

“You’re mine, love,” Elliott growled, his voice thick with command as he drove into you, his hips slamming against yours with bruising force. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breaking with pleasure as your body trembled beneath him. “I’m yours, Elliott… only yours…”

Elliott’s growl of satisfaction sent a shiver down your spine as he pounded into you with renewed vigor, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your nails dug into his back, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts as you clung to him, your body begging for release.

But Elliott’s movements became more deliberate, his rough urgency giving way to a slower, more sensual rhythm. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing against your skin as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue circling the sensitive bud made you gasp, your back arching as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

His teeth grazed your nipple lightly before sucking it deeper into his mouth, sending a shiver of arousal straight to your core. His hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart race. You felt every inch of him inside you, each slow, deliberate thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His balls gently slapped against you with each movement, a rhythmic reminder of the intimate connection you shared in this secluded, star-lit forest.

The world around you faded into the background—the soft rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird, the crackle of the fire. None of it mattered. The only thing that existed was Elliott—his body pressed against yours, his cock filling you so completely, his mouth worshiping your breasts with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

Elliott’s lips moved from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and flicking against your other nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently. His mustache tickled your skin, adding to the overwhelming sensations that had you trembling beneath him. The pace of his thrusts slowed even further, each one deep and unhurried, as if he was savoring the feeling of being inside you, of making love to you under the stars.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, your fingers grazing the warm, taut skin of his back as you traced the muscles there. The contrast between the rough fabric of his shirt and the smoothness of his skin was intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough of the feel of him, the way his body responded to your touch.

“Bloody hell, love,” Elliott murmured against your skin, his baritone voice thick with emotion as he pressed a kiss to the valley between your breasts. “You feel so damn good… so warm and soft."

You moaned softly in response, your hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, the curve of his spine as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. “Elliott,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop… please…”

He lifted his head, his hazel eyes locking onto yours as he slowed his thrusts even more, each movement measured, deliberate. “I’m not going anywhere, love,” he growled softly, his voice full of promise. “I’m right here… and I’m gonna make sure you feel every bit of me.”

The way he spoke, the raw desire in his voice, made your heart flutter. You could feel the depth of his love, his need to connect with you on the most intimate level. And as he continued to move inside you, his thrusts slow and deep, the sensation of his cock filling you, stretching you, made your body tremble with pleasure.

Elliott’s lips returned to your breasts, trailing kisses along your skin, his mustache brushing against your sensitive flesh. Each touch, each kiss, was like a spark, igniting the fire that burned between you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he moved, his cock sliding in and out of you with a languid, sensual rhythm that left you gasping for breath.

“Feel that, love?” Elliott whispered, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “Feel how deep I am inside you? How perfectly we fit together?”

You could only moan in response, your fingers digging into his back as you arched up to meet his thrusts, your body aching for more. The slow, deliberate pace was driving you wild, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you that built and built until you thought you might explode from the intensity of it.

Elliott’s mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he pressed a kiss to the spot just below your ear. “You’re mine,” he growled softly, his voice filled with possessiveness and love. “Always mine."

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m yours, Elliott… always.”

His growl of satisfaction vibrated against your skin, and he shifted his weight slightly, driving into you at a slightly different angle that made you cry out in pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he filled you so completely, the way his body moved against yours, the heat of the fire warming your skin as the cool night air brushed over you.

Elliott’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting them slightly so he could thrust even deeper, his movements still slow and deliberate, but with a renewed intensity that made your toes curl. His cock filled you, stretched you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Christ, love,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so bloody perfect… so tight around me.”

You whimpered in response, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as you clung to him, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations he was wringing from you. Every nerve ending was alive with pleasure, every touch, every thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Elliott,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breath. “I’m so close… please…”

He lifted his head, his hazel eyes blazing with intensity as he looked down at you, his thrusts slowing even more, each movement deep and deliberate. “I’ve got you, love,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of command and affection. “Come for me… let go.”

His words were your undoing. With a final, deep thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls clenching around his cock like a vise. You cried out his name, your voice echoing through the forest as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you, your body trembling with the force of it.

Elliott groaned, his own release following moments later as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot seed. He kept moving, riding out both of your orgasms, his thrusts slow and deliberate, prolonging the pleasure until you were both spent, your bodies trembling with the intensity of the experience.

When it was over, Elliott collapsed against you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His hands slid up to cup your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss that made your heart swell with love.

“Happy anniversary, my darling,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of affection and exhaustion. “I love you… now and always.”

You smiled weakly, your body still trembling from the force of your orgasm as you looked up at him. “I love you too, Elliott,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “Now and always.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms under the starry sky, the fire crackling softly beside you, you knew that this moment—this connection—was something special, something that would only grow stronger with time. The love you shared, the way you fit together so perfectly, was something to be cherished, something that would last a lifetime.

[fandomofone]

DMs and fanfic and identity reveals, OH MY!

I'm so excited to finally share a new fic I've been working on with @kuromori4 for @mlbigbang2024 !!

On Good Author-ity is a collab (about a collab!) that features loads of flirty late-night DMs, two unwitting partnerships and three separate reveals. Join Adrien & Marinette as miscommunication abounds and (identity) shenanigans ensue- and they get to know one another far more intimately than they ever expected.

Rating: M (Mature)

Check out the summary and Adrien's teaser below! (And be sure to visit @kuromori4 's profile for Marinette's!)

See you in January! 😉

Summary:

When the Ladyblog debuts a new fanfiction feature, Marinette wants nothing to do with it… until an unlikely recommendation piques her curiosity. She discovers— much to her dismay— that fans are writing salacious, and frankly, quite shocking things about Ladybug and Chat Noir! Scandalized, she’s ready to write fanfiction off for good, until she receives a link to a fic that’s too tempting to resist— leading her to #1LadyFan, a surprisingly good author that writes convincing romance, and seems to have an alarming amount of insight on the duo’s dynamic that isn’t public knowledge. Flustered, irritated, and admittedly a little intrigued, Marinette creates the username PolkaDotPrincess and contacts the author to offer constructive criticism on what she considers to be glaring inaccuracies. 

Meanwhile, Adrien is thrilled to learn that his Ladynoir fanfiction is gaining popularity, and over the moon when a reader reaches out. After weeks of increasingly flirty late-night conversations with his mysterious online friend, Adrien notices that she seems to know an awful lot about Ladybug and Chat Noir. Eager to learn more about her, he puts her critique to the test and challenges her to join him in a collaborative effort to write a more ‘realistic’ romance featuring Paris’ favorite superheroes.

Snippet:

Adrien sat down in his seat, ignoring Alya and Nino’s cutesy love play in favor of his coffee, when he heard the group of girls behind him exclaim, “Ooooooh!” in unison. Turning around, he caught Rose’s eye as she wailed, “He’s soooo romantic!” Amused, he hitched a thumb over his shoulder and asked Alya, “What are they looking at?” “New Ladynoir fic just dropped late last night. I’ve already read it twice myself. It is capital H- Hot.” Her voice, and her eyebrows, climbed suggestively on the last word as she punctuated her statement with a sharp nod. “Different from the rest too.” “What do you mean?” Adrien asked casually, not conceited enough to actually believe that she might be talking about his story. Still, the wayward thought crept into his head- he had posted his story in the wee hours. “Hot, Agreste. Steamy. Smoking. Sex-y.” She enunciated both syllables as if Adrien was a small child. “Surely you know what that means.” Alya arched one eyebrow, pinning him with a knowing look. His cheeks pinked up at both the words and her mockery; he couldn't help it. “I know what sexy is, thank you very much,” he muttered. “Do you think I live under a rock?” Alya’s eyebrows climbed, and she and Nino exchanged an amused look between them. “Don't answer that,” he grumbled, annoyed that it was even slightly true. “I meant, what do you mean by ‘different from the rest’?” “I meant that I hope Ladybug doesn't know who #1Ladyfan is, or she's probably gonna be knocking their door down when she gets her hands on it.” Adrien coughed, choking on air as he sat up straighter at the mention of his pen name. She was talking about his fic! And she thought it was sexy!! And the other girls in the class were into it too!!! He was glad his cheeks were still slightly pink from earlier because he could feel them heating up again. He smiled to himself as he turned back around to face the front, his day already looking up.

All the thanks to my co-author, @kuromori4, for taking on this insane project with me, and the artists joining us on this crazy journey, @ayekasong and @eclipsesmoonshine14 . Big thanks also to the entire @mlbigbang2024 discord server- y'all have been super helpful every step along the way, and been even more fun to hang out with!!

[artemish]

Sous chef | opla!Sanji x fem!Reader

word count: 2.1k

genre/tags: Sanji x reader; first-person pov; fluff; pining (but is it mutual??); angst; hurt/comfort; friends to lovers

warnings: mild ptsd; mild trauma

summary: A restless night at sea turns into one of revelations, as the reader finds that the depths of the ocean are much like a certain chef’s heart…

a/n: Hello opla girlies! First time fanfic writer here!!

I am ever the lurker on this website, but something inside me changed when I started watching One Piece, and now I’m down bad for this crew (specifically for the hot cook)

So I thought I’d give it a shot, write a bit of fanfic and see where it goes! I’ve finished the live action and currently watching the anime, so my interpretation of Sanji is quite mixed, however I tried to stay closer to opla!Sanji. I’ve also left this open ended cos I might write more (who knows hehehe)

Shoutout to @honnelander for inspiring me to write again ☺️ (please read her go fish! series if you haven’t!! It’s great!!)

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰!

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Sanji often stayed up late during those long nights at sea, prepping for the next day's meals, making notes of what had been used and taking stock of the ingredients that were left.

It was almost obsessive at times, desperate even.

He ignored everyone’s concern for him to just take it easy and go to sleep, even Nami’s, and refused to give us an explanation.

He would count every last bean, every last grain of rice or drop of water that he could, and he had tried many times but failed to make an accurate record (mostly because Luffy would lessen the supplies significantly).

I hadn’t really understood his habit, until one night, when the waves were particularly rough and I was disturbed from my sleep.

Usually, rough waters didn’t bother me too much, but I was already quite restless that night and had only truly been half asleep.

My mind was a blazing mess from all the thoughts that had been looping endlessly through it.

Thoughts of him.

I sat up on the futon. My hair draped in a tangled mess around my face and over my shoulders.

I looked across at Nami, her back facing towards me, breathing deeply as she slept.

I envied her ease.

I hauled myself out of the bed and straightened the silk nightgown I was wearing. I slipped on the woven shawl I had laid out over my blanket and made my way down the corridor, towards the kitchen.

The waves had picked up their brutality and began to batter the ship quite hard, so that it swayed violently from side to side.

Gripping the sides of the walls and trying to match the sway, I wondered how everyone could sleep so peacefully.

The ship moaned and croaked as it continued to sway.

I stumbled into the kitchen just as it crashed against the starboard side hard, pushing the ship port.

The force took me by surprise, causing me to lose my grip of the wall and my footing.

I tumbled through the doorway, and slammed hard against the stack of barrels in the corner.

The momentum of the ship turned once more. Lurching towards the right again, I slid off the barrel and slammed face first onto the ground.

“Ah shit!” I yelped. All traces of sleep had officially left me.

“Luffy, that better not be you,” came a brash voice from the darkness, “and if it is, you best be walking out that door right now.”

“Ack, Sanji?”

In the dull light, I saw the concerned face of the cook instantly pop around the counter.

“Y/n! Gods, are you alright?”

He moved swiftly to where I was laying and gently lifted me up.

“You're alright now, love. C’mon up. That’s it, easy”

He swung my arm around his neck and held my waist tightly as he led me to the bench seating on the other side of the kitchen counter.

Despite the daze I was in, I still felt my heart quicken, at his firm grip on my waist and at the ease with which he picked me up.

“Sanji, what are you doing up?” I whispered, not because I was trying to be quiet, but because the knock had left me completely winded.

He sat me down and wrapped my shawl around me tightly, rubbing my shoulders as he did, and kneeled down in front of me.

“Are you okay? Look at my fingers, how many do you see? Are you cut anywhere, y/n? Do you have a concussion? Do you want some water, tea? What do you need, I’ll get it for you, anything you nee-”

“Sanji,” I said, holding my hand firmly on his mouth to keep him quiet, “I’m alright.”

I squeezed his shoulder, as I saw a sigh of relief wash over his face. “You really got to stop treating me like some princess you know.”

“Madam, you are the loveliest person to ever grace this ship. I would hate it if I couldn’t bask in your beauty everyday.”

“You’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” But I could feel my stomach fluttering at his words.

He grinned, “madam, someone as lovely as you deserves to hear it said often.”

I shoved his shoulder. “Shut up!”

He laughed. He looked so soft in the light of the lantern.

“You didn’t answer my question by the way.”

“What question?” he asked, as he got up to sit next to me.

“Why are you awake?”

He turned his face away from me and shifted uneasily on the bench. “Why does it matter?”

“Sanji, why are you awake, really? What is it that you’re not telling us? You know I’ve lost track of how many times Luffy’s found you asleep in here because you’ve been up doing… well, whatever you do. What’s going on?”

He let out a deep sigh as he turned back around to face me, looking at me through the flop of blonde hair that covered half his face. He bit his lip hard and dropped his head, defeated it would seem.

The ship continued to sway and croak and groan, as the silence between us grew.

He looked small, afraid. I reached out to hold his hands and he took them eagerly, squeezing them tightly as he did.

“You all know about what happened to me and Zeff,” he said finally, “and I appreciate the kind words and empathy you’ve all given me, but you could never really understand what that was like, being out there. Waiting to die. The scorching, unrelenting sun in the day that made my skin flake off. The icy air of night that felt like daggers, prodding at my burnt flesh. Being hollowed out from the inside, from the hunger, until the numbness set in and I thought I’d melt into that shitty rock. Even being as careful as I was, as precise, I still didn’t have nearly enough food to survive, and it really was only by fate or luck, a real miracle actually, that we were rescued.

I guess I haven’t shook that feeling yet, that fear. It was easier to distract myself in the restaurant, you know, being surrounded by food and all, but here it’s different here. I-I just want be sure, I want to know that we’re good, at all times, because I don’t want any of you to go through what I did. It’s shit, yeah I know, but I’d rather not sleep then let any of you go through that.”

Again, the silence between us was palpable.

I felt like I’d been punched.

He breathed heavily, as if trying to catch his breath and I knew then that this was something he had kept buried deep within himself because the true nature of his fear was so horrific, so raw, who could ever understand it?

None of us had been out there with him, even though we would all do the same for each other.

But our sentiments were just words.

He had lived it.

The silence grew stifling.

I knew he would do anything to protect us from that fate.

“Sanji”

“You-you can’t tell the others. They don’t need to know, yeah? I’m happy as long as they’re fed with no complaints.”

“But Sanji-”

“Y/n, please don’t tell them.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

The mess of thoughts in my mind was growing.

He held my hands tighter and used them to pull himself towards me. His thumbs made circular motions on my palms.

I heard my heart pounding in my ears and I stupidly hoped he couldn’t hear it.

“Darling, I am a ball of dough in your hands. You can knead me and form me any way you’d like, and I’ll give you no resistance.”

“Pfft” I giggled and so did he.

At this, I felt like we were both at ease again.

I always admired his way of keeping things light.

“No, but, if you’d allow me, madam, to be serious,” he straightened up a bit then, “I suppose I was hoping that you’d find me in here. I was hoping that I could tell just you. You’ve got a way about you that everyone just finds trustworthy. I don’t know but there’s, there’s something about you...” He trailed off and laughed before he could finish, and I could see a faint blush of pink on his cheeks. “Sorry I-I ugh, I’m a bit sleep deprived. I’m just glad you’re here.”

I had never seen this side of him (or any side of him for that matter) though I knew it existed. Somewhere under the flirtatious, playboy persona he put out, I knew there was a genuine sweetness. I just wished I was more awake to really enjoy it.

Once the pain I was in wore off, my whole body felt heavy, like it was being pulled down with the full force of gravity, and the sway of the ship was less violent and more like the gentle rock of a cradle.

“You know, you don’t have to pretend with me.” I swept his bangs out of his eyes and kept my hand cupped around the side of his face. I hadn’t realised how blue his eyes were until now.

Even in the dull light, I could see every shade of blue there was swirling in them, like the ocean’s raging swell on a moonlit night. I saw the sleep in his eyes weighing him down too.

“You know this is the most words I’ve heard out of your mouth since I got here.”

He grinned sleepily, “well I’ve just been trying to find the right time to talk to you, my swan.”

I could feel my cheeks burn and I hoped he didn’t see the blush come over them.

“I didn’t think the right time would be 3am, me face planted and bruised in the kitchen, but here we are.”

“You are alright now, yeah?”

“Of course,” I scoffed, “I’m just sleepy. You look sleepy too.”

As if on cue, he yawned and leaned back on the bench.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s super late. And Luffy wanted everyone to have a big breakfast tomorrow, you know with eggs, bacon, croissants, etc. Breakfast service is always the most important. But I just…” his voice trailed off again, but there was a hint of frustration this time.

“You just can’t sleep, like you cannot.”

“Yeah.”

“I get it,” I said, and I did, “the memories, they come back; more vividly, more real at night. It’s like it’s better to be awake than asleep. Like sleep causes you to relive the pain. Every moment, everything.”

“Y/n,” he said with concern in his voice, “what caused you pain, my love?”

My love.

Those words rang in my ears for some time, even now. Did he mean it?, I thought, maybe he feels the same?

Was all that flirting genuine or was he just being nice?

Was he just being Sanji?

It had been such a long, revealing night, but that stuck out to me and I couldn’t shake it.

He had been so open about his fears, not even the captain knew what he was telling me, I was sure of it.

So then, I kept thinking, why me?

If I didn’t mean something more, then why me?

While I was mulling all this over, I hadn’t noticed that I was leaning on his shoulder until he pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tightly, so that my face rested on his chest.

The slit in his poet shirt revealed his tanned skin underneath.

I boldly moved my hand up his chest and traced his freckles with my fingers.

He played with my hair.

Friends definitely didn’t do this.

“Let’s not talk about that now,” I whispered, “just close your eyes, okay? And Sanji?”

“Yes?”

“If you need a sous chef tomorrow morning, I’ll be there.”

I felt his soft laugh hum in his chest.

“Thank you, y/n. I’ll take you up on that.”

He buried his face in my hair as he continued to hug me and I felt his whole body relax.

In one night, the chef had shown me that there were more layers to this cake of a personality he had than I had fully anticipated, and all of them were deliciously sweet.

Delectable even.

And confusing.

As we slipped further into sleep, we had also unknowingly laid ourselves out on the bench, still tangled in each other's embrace, and sharing my shawl for warmth.

An embrace that was a little too close for friends.

— — — — —

“We’re just friends, Nami,” I hissed, trying to restrain myself from yelling in her ear, “there’s nothing there! He-we- we’re just friends! There are no feelings, we are JUST friends.”

She found us in the morning and woke me up, leaving Sanji still asleep.

I flapped around our room, growling out my protests as I did, but it was no use.

She just sat there.

Just sat there.

Arms folded and tapping her toes.

With a huge smirk plastered across her face.

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

[junabuggy]

Hey! I've been reading all of your Angel Dust stuff and I adore everything! I do have a request. I understand if you don't want to do this, or don't even see me.

Could you do a Drag Angel x Male Reader? I'd prefer it to be a little smutty, but you can add whatever you want with it!

Hope you have a great day!

Drag! Angel Dust x Male! Reader

A/n: I’ve gotten two requests for this surprisingly enough lol (important notice at end !!)

Warnings: None

Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌

🕸️ᥫ᭡ The first time Angel randomly walked into the hotel lobby in drag with you there, you weren’t too shocked. I mean c’mon, it’s Angel frickin’ Dust.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Plus he looked good in it sooo you were definitely not complaining

🕸️ᥫ᭡ If you’re good at makeup he might ask for some help with his makeup for drag

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Which is fun because you get to sit on his lap and chat while you do it. Fun bonding moment ‼️‼️

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Will wrap his arms around your waist while you’re doing it and yes will be flirting with you until your cheeks turn red

🕸️ᥫ᭡ He can’t help it !! It’s just the perfect opportunity to tease you :P

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Lets you give him advice on what outfit he should wear

🕸️ᥫ᭡ The only thing he won’t let you help out with is his hair or wig, he’s VERY particular about that for whatever reason.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Thanks you for all the help with a kiss on the forehead (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Of course, it’s overdramatic and with a “mmmwah!” Sound affect

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Overall drag is a fun thing for Angel and he’s glad he got to share that with you <33

Notice !!

Hey guys :)

I’ve been on hiatus for a while now and this is just kinda my explanation why and moving forward stuffs/plans for the future ദ്ദി(˵ - ᴗ - ˵)

Long story short my hyperfixation on Hazbin Hotel died out pretty quickly aannnddd life has been insane lately?? It’s like the AO3 fanfic writer curse hit me or something even though I mainly write on Tumblr lmfaooo

I’ll spare you the details but what’s been going on with me recently has kept me from creating really anything and the fact that the hyperfixation died out doesn’t help either. It’s hard to write about stuff I’m no longer very interested in.

That being said I don’t mind writing for Hazbin so send in your requests !! But I might not be able to get around to them as frequently as I used to.

Alsssooooo If you have other fandoms you’d like to see me write for I’ll see what I can do, so send in requests for other fandoms too (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

Happy pride month !! And I’m sorry if I didn’t make much sense here lol, I’m terrible with words ironically enough

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲

[finnsbubblegum]

Becoming Mrs. Miller {Part 1: Meeting Sarah} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: mostly fluff, short smut, use of (y/n) (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: You and Joel have been keeping your relationship as a secret from Sarah. It’s been a few months and you want to meet Sarah but Joel doesn’t like the idea.

Words count: 1.5k

A/N: Hi! I’m not a native English speaker so I’m sorry if I have grammar mistakes or the sentences come up unnatural, and it’s also my first time writing fanfic, please be nice and I'm open for suggestions, I want to be better in writing. I’ve always loved writing but some people told me I'm bad at it, but I want to give it another try, I hope you enjoy it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

The room was dark and it was full of you and Joel’s heavy breathing. 

“Fuck Joel, that feels so good.” 

You reached Joel’s hand on your hip while he was thrusting fast and deep inside you from behind. He hissed and you could feel his moves were getting messy. (Yes, I’m writing this imagining that scene from Narcos S2 ep 3 lol)

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want me to cum?”. 

“Inside, please.” You were on birth control so you didn’t care.

He groaned as you felt a warm feeling from his cum painting your walls. He pulled you to his chest and kissed your neck. You shifted to face him, both of your hands cupped his cheeks and kissed him. 

“So, when will you introduce me to Sarah?”

“Uhm..I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Joel held your wrists that were cupping his cheeks.

Your face showed disappointment and pulled away from him. You took your clothes that were laying on the floor, started dressing up and got ready to leave.

“Baby..” Joel frowned and called you.

Apparently, Joel has been proposing Sarah to have a sleepover at her friend’s every Friday night, telling her he’s working overtime so that you can have a private time with him. You understood his choice to keep your relationship secret but it has been 7 months and you started doubting him.

You let out a sigh and said, “Joel, we’ve been keeping our relationship as a secret. We only see each other when Sarah isn’t around. Mostly Friday nights in your bedroom. I feel like you’re only using me as a fuck buddy not your girlfriend. I want a serious relationship. I’m not a prostitute. I know you love Sarah so much and you don’t want to hurt her feelings. I understand, I do. But I love you, Joel. Do you?”

“I love you too, baby. But..” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

7 months ago

It was late at night, you were on your way home from a girl’s night out and suddenly your car broke down.

“No, no, no , no!” You yelled and went out of your car to see what was happening to your car. Not knowing anything about cars, you tried to open the hood. You only stood there, stared at your car, and put your hands on your hip. You tried calling your dad.

“Of course, he’s probably asleep.” You scoffed.

Not long after that, there was a truck stopped behind your car. You were scared someone might kidnap you but you were also hoping that someone might come and help you.

A man getting off the truck and walking towards you. He was handsome, average height, muscly, brown hair and facial hair. He was masculine and you couldn’t deny that he was your type.

“Need help with that?”  The man asked.

“Uhm.. yes. I don’t really know about cars so I have no idea what to do.” You scratched your head.

“Let me see..” The man held your car hood and looked at your car’s machine. You stood there beside him, watching whatever he did, and a few minutes later he fixed your car.

“Can you try startin’ your car for me?” He faced you and asked.

“Yeah, sure.” You went to the driver’s seat and started your car.

“It works!” You tapped the steering wheel and smiled happily. You walked out of your car and walked to the man. 

“Thank you for helping me. I’m (y/n). I, uh, I haven’t got your name.” You reached out your hand to give him a handshake.

He shook your hand, “Joel.”

“Uhm..What can I do to repay your kindness?” You asked shyly.

“Uhm..Coffee?” He chuckled.

You laughed, “Coffee it is. But it’s late. I doubt there’s a coffee shop that still opens. Can I get your number and buy you a coffee when you’re free?”

“Sure.” He took out his phone and you exchanged numbers.

The two of you have been hanging out since and fell in love.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“But what? Are you embarrassed of me? If you don’t see our relationship further, then maybe this is it. I’m done. I can’t keep doing this when I know there isn’t a future for both of us.” You started tearing up and walked out the house.

As you were holding the handle of the front door, you heard Joel running down the stairs.

“Baby, wait.” Joel grabbed your wrist to stop you from leaving. 

Tears streamed down your face as you faced him. You can see from his face that he was angry at himself for making you cry. 

He cupped your cheeks and said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what?” You held his wrist and looked him through his eyes.

“I have never been in a relationship after Sarah’s mom left. I just don’t know how Sarah would think if I tell her I have a girlfriend. I’m scared she might hate you.” 

“Joel, I’ll be fine. If she hates me then I’ll go. But we don’t know. There might be chances that she’ll like me. You don’t know that.”

“You’re right, baby. Well, do you want to meet her tomorrow? I’m picking her up at 10 so maybe we can have lunch together, here? I’ll cook.” Joel smiled.

“Sure, I’ll be here by 12.” You gave him a peck on the cheek and he pulled you closer and hugged you.

“I’m sorry and I love you, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next morning, you woke up, took a shower, and put on some makeup. After a long time of dilemma choosing which sundress to wear, you decided to wear a white sundress with a yellow floral pattern so that you look nice and friendly. You grabbed your purse and were ready to meet Sarah.

You rang the Miller’s house doorbell. Joel opened the door.

“Hey, you look amazing.”  He gave you a light kiss.

“Thank you.”

You walked in the house and you could smell the delicious meal that Joel had cooked for lunch.

“Sarah! I have someone I want you to meet.” Joel shouted.

“Coming!” Sarah ran down the stairs as her dad called her.

“Hi! (y/n), it’s great to finally meet you. My dad told me a lot about you.” Sarah greeted you with a smile.

“Hi Sarah! Nice to meet you too. Your dad bragged a lot about you. I heard you’re really smart.” You gave Joel a smirk and side eye. 

“Oh, really dad? But yes, I am smart.” Sarah joked. You and Joel laughed.

“Okay, I’m starving. Let’s eat!” Joel invited you to the dining room.

The three of you ate, talked, joked, laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. 

“I didn’t know you’re a great cook Miller.” You said as you shoved another bite to your mouth.

“Well, I got help from Sarah.” Joel looked and smiled at Sarah and she chuckled.

“So, has he proposed?” Sarah asked and looked at you.

You looked at Joel, confused, not expecting this question from Sarah.

“Uhmm..” Joel didn’t know what to say.

“I know you guys have been dating for some months now. I’m not that stupid, dad. I know you’ve been asking me to have a sleepover at Becca’s because you want to go on a date.” 

“Oh!” You were amused and made eye contact with Joel.

“You knew about us the whole time?” Joel was shocked about Sarah knowing.

“Yeah, dad. I was waiting for you to introduce (y/n) to me. I’m glad I’m meeting her now. I think you’re cool, (y/n).”

“Wow, thank you, Sarah. I’ll take that as a compliment.” You smirked at Joel.

“So, are you going to be my mom soon?” Sarah asked.

You and Joel were speechless. 

“Soon.” Joel held your hand and smiled shyly as he couldn’t hide his happiness.

You knew he was joking since you have been together for a short time but you couldn’t hide the feelings of butterflies in your stomach.

After lunch, Sarah went to her room. Joel washed the dishes and you hugged him from behind. 

“See? She likes me. Mission success.” You whispered to Joel’s ear.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, baby.” Joel faced you as he turned off the faucet.

“Uh-huh, I’m gonna make her like me more than she likes you, Miller.” You teased Joel as you went closer to his face. 

“I love you so much, Mrs. Miller.” Joel teased you back and boop your nose with his index finger.

“That’s wet.” You scrunched and wiped your nose. Joel threw his head back and laughed as he wiped his hands on his jeans. 

“Do you like the name?” Joel asked and cupped your cheeks.

“Of course. It sounds cute. Mrs. Miller. I like that.” You looked through his puppy eyes and kissed him deeply.

To be continued...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part One)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Although I’ve had tumblr for a bit I’m not really used to posting stuff so sorry if I don’t format everything well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️) also pls excuse my grammar.

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. The beginning takes place when Jason is still Robin but he’s no longer apart of the titans. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad)

Part One: Back To The Tower

“Babe? Babe!” You opened your eyes at the sound of Jason’s voice. His green eyes normally looked at you with gentleness but currently they were alarmed. Scared and scary are two things Jason normally does a good job at keeping separate, but when someone threatens his whole world the two merge to create someone dangerous to everyone, including himself.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” You asked.

“We’ve got to go, Dick called… he thinks joker is after me for some reason…I’ll explain more on our way to the tower.” Jason quickly grabbed the go bags you two had made in case something like this were to happen. He used to think having go bags was you two being paranoid but you always knew dating a vigilante would have its ups and downs.

You knew he was serious when he walked straight past his bike and headed to your car instead “Jason, slow down,” you said as he swerved around cars. He knew you hated speeding and he so he never dared do it, also because he liked not dying in a car crash.

“I’m sorry, so you know how joker has been leaving notes around Gotham?” He asks as he drives a bit slower.

“Yeah why?” You answer quickly.

“Dick called me two hours ago and said they think they’re threatens to Robin, threats to me.”

“Shit, what does joker even want with you?”

“I have no idea maybe I’m a pawn in some game he’s got going with Bruce or Dick or the titans or maybe he’s just decided I’m the next victim in his reign of fucking torment,” Jason’s voice shook slightly. You could tell he was trying to keep it together while driving; trying to keep it together infront of you. You two had been through so much together: he’d been the one you turned to when you left home, you two had been apart of titans together, he’d rescued you from poison ivy once, you talked him off the roof of the tower. You two knew each other better than you knew yourselves. Even after everything he still had a hard time voicing his emotions and honestly you did too.

“Why’d you change the fucking password asshole,” Jason said to Dick through the security camera at titans tower.

“More importantly why’d he change it and not tell us?” You said. Jason’s arm was around you, his leather jacket was a familiar feeling against your skin.

The tower brought back many memories for both you and Jason. You remembered painting your nails with Rachel while Gar and Jason tried not to burn down the kitchen. Late nights when you’d find Kori or Donna and ask for their advice when you first noticed yourself falling for Jason. They thought you were crazy of course but it all worked out, so far anyway. You remembered the first time you’d been to the tower when Dick took you in. Dick introduced you to the titans but it was Jason, who you only knew as Robin at the time, who saved your life and called Dick. Another memory you unfortunately recalled was the time after you guys got Jason back from Deathstroke. You hadn’t known pain till you saw the way he winced at the slightest touch or loud noise. Then there was his fall…your mind refocused when you saw Dick.

“Hey lovebirds,” he said with a grin.

“So what do these messages say exactly,” you said.

“Always so serious,” Dick says. You simply glare at him and he stops messing around. “Right so over the past few days there have been notes around Gotham in seemingly random places, each one is just some nonsense about circuses and birds so naturally it’s about Robin. They talk about the flying boy and encounters him and I have had he then goes on to talk about me becoming nightwing. The rest is disturbing stuff about him “wanting to pick off the feathers of the new little bird to reveal the horror inside”,”.

“Right…so seemingly random places?” Jason says.

“Yeah so, the first was found spraypainted on the stage of a highschool in Gotham, the next was spray painted on a random wall in an alley and the third was on the door of this bar…” Dick said.

“Shit,” Jason said.

“The highschool and the alley,” you said softly to Jason.

“And the bar… it’s the one my uncle took me to,”

“Someone wanna explain the significance to me,” Dick said.

“They’re places from my past,” Jason said. “The highschool I lived in, the alley I boosted the Batmobile in and the bar my uncle took me to.” You all simply stared at eachother waiting for someone to break the silence when Rachel, Gar and Kori came rushing in.

“Oh my God what are you doing here?” Rachel asked pulling you in for a hug.

“Wish I could say just to see you,” you say.

“Hey man what’s the special occasion?” Gar asks Jason.

“Unfortunately the occasion is another psycho trying to kill me,” Jason replied.

“Wait is that true? Dick is this about the joker?” Rachel asks. Dick looks at Jason who nods.

“Yes, we think joker knows Jason is the new Robin and is threatening him,” Dick says.

“No offense but isn’t this more Batman’s territory?” Kori says.

“Normally yes but he’s off doing Justice League bullshit,” Dick says.

Everyone gets comfortable and Dick explains what we know.

“So we know the notes reference Dick, Bruce and Jason but I think there’s a fourth person here,” Kori says.

“Is joker just referencing himself?” Gar says.

“I don’t think so cause…” Jason stops himself.

“Cause what?” You ask him. He doesn’t answer.

“Jason what is it what’d you find” Dick asks. Jason simply gets up and starts to walk away. Naturally you get up and begin walking after him.

Dick grabs your arm, you glare at him and he lets go, “hey let me go see what’s up just keep picking apart the notes with the others.” It was the Dick you knew, loved, and were annoyed by. The camp counselor anything is possible with teamwork Dick Grayson, the version of him which would soon have to step aside.

“Jason!” Dick says when he finds Jason in his old room which looks exactly the same. Jason doesn’t reply he simply grabs a bag and starts packing. “Going somewhere?” Dick says. Jason still doesn’t reply. “Hey, what the fuck!”

“You aren’t stupid Dick you read the fucking note,” Jason says.

“Maybe I am stupid cause I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jokers not threatening me, he’s challenging me…telling me to meet him. And he’s threatening y/n saying what he’ll do if I don’t go find him.” Jason says.

“Shit,” Dick says. “Okay but all you’re going to accomplish by going by yourself is pissing me off, getting your shit rocked by joker, pissing Bruce off, and scaring your girlfriend to death all of which I’m gonna have to fix so could you not be impulsive for once!”

“You don’t think she’s already scared!” Jason says.

“Yeah I do but I think you’ll make it worse if you leave her here,”

“She’d be safer here far away from Gotham and far away from me,” Jason says.

“Hey dipshits,” Kori says as she turns the corner. “Yeah I can read too,” she also seemed to have figured out the note “So why don’t you I don’t know, include her in the conversation about what to do about the threats that are against her?”

The three of them return to see you, Gar and Rachel sitting in silence, it was clear you guys had also figured out the full message. Jason doesn’t get a chance to even fully enter the room before you get up and pull him back into his old room.

“What were you thinking not telling me?” You say.

“You didn’t sign up for this shit,” Jason says.

“I did, and I don’t just mean with you I joined titans before I even knew your name.”

Jason hesitates before saying, “you’re right, I’m sorry”

“Apology accepted so what the hell are we gonna do,” you say slipping out of your serious tone.

“First question, do you wanna go out there and work with everyone or just keep this between us,” Jason says.

“What do you wanna do?” You asked. It was clear you wanted to include the titans in the plan. You knew Jason has a complicated past with everyone in the other room but you also knew despite his own feelings he’d do whatever would keep you the safest. He hugs you softly, one last act of humanity before completely focusing on being Robin. You and Jason were fairly new to the world of having a secret identity. You both tried to keep the two personas completely separate but at the end of the day the person under the mask always has the final say when hard decisions need to be made.

The plan everyone agreed on was simple. You’d stay at the tower, with Gar and Rachel far away from Gotham and the joker. Tomorrow morning Jason, Dick and Kori would drive to Gotham and work with Barbra to catch joker. If only that were actually how it went.

You’d fallen asleep in your old room with Jason by your side, around three am you woke up and he was no where to be found. “Jason?” You said as you looked around the room. The light was already on so you could see perfectly that he was gone. Jason must’ve turned the light on when he left, he knows you hate being in the dark alone after what you went through with Poison Ivy. “Dick!” You yelled as you ran down the hall to Dick’s room. To your surprise Dick was wide awake busy on his computer.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Dick said concerned.

“Jason’s gone.” You said.

“Fucking idiot,” Dick mumbled under his breath. He began typing quickly on his computer. “He got rid of his tracker didn’t he?”

“He cut it out ages ago,” you said frantically. Jason had vanished but both you and Dick knew exactly where he was going; he was going to face Joker alone in Gotham.

Please like if you enjoyed the fic I need to know people like it otherwise I’ll stop posting new parts (I have a whole storyline idea and backstory so like if you want to see more)🩷

Here’s my Masterlist so you can read the other parts.

Masterlist

[minuteminx]

My biggest frustration as a Preston fan in the Fallout 4 fandom is not actually the people who make hate content (that’s annoying and awful but my block button is a pretty great balm for that); no, it’s actually the multitude of people who “would like him if…” “would have been more willing to spend time with him if…”

Call me crazy, but aside from the annoying radiant quest mechanic (which can be circumvented if you 1. Listen to Radio Freedom everyone once and a while, 2. Don’t do the quests you’re assigned bc you’ll only get a couple at a time before it stops, and 3. Make sure your settlements are in good shape. You have so much less to do if you settlements are taken care of on the front end. If they have a high enough defense and they’re under attack? THEY DEFEND THEMSELVES. Imagine that. Anyway) I actually LIKE how the game handles Preston and the MM.

Maybe it’s just me coming from Dragon Age fandom, where in the very first game, my fresh out-out-of-orientation Grey Warden is asked to take the lead by someone with more seniority because the more senior person is riddled with grief, survivor’s guilt, and insecurity that they’d be able to do a good job… sound familiar? Preston asks you to be the General because after everything he has been through, he’s not ready to fill that role. He can’t stomach the responsibility because he is afraid he’ll mess it up, that he’ll let people down.

But the thing is, he still does the General Stuff. He is the one organizing, communicating with settlements, strategizing, expanding, recruiting, giving orders, etcetera, etcetera. The sole who agrees to be the General is honestly just a figurehead for the settlers and a sounding board for Preston’s ideas. At the end of the day it is not the Sole Survivor who settlers run to, excited to thank them for all their help and make donations. It’s not the Sole Survivor who is viewed as the face of the MM. It’s Preston.

Do I wish the game came full circle and acknowledged that? Oh yeah I do, which is why I’m writing fanfic. I think that Preston deserved a personal quest where you retake Quincy from the Gunners and get revenge on Clint. I think the end of his story should be the Sole Survivor acknowledging that he’s been the General the entire time and bequeathing that title back to him now that he is recovering and ready for it. That’s really all I would have needed to feel like his story was complete.

As is, I enjoy traveling with Preston in game. He is refreshing. He has a lot of hopeful commentary about the Commonwealth, a lot of sarcasm and dry humor, and it’s great. He actually gives you less quests when he’s traveling with you as a companion, too.

His romance is lovely. It is the only one with some additional dialogue if you do the flirts, successfully initiate, then back out when he asks if you’re sure. He will come back later and say “listen, I know last time we talked, you said you weren’t ready to move on, but it’s been a while now and I still feel the same about you. I was wondering if you thought you might feel the same about me.” He also is genuinely so happy and excited to be with you. He gets a little more flirtatious. talking about MM regulations not covering your little situation (little eyebrow wiggle included). He calls you babe and tells you to be careful. It’s just as rich of a romance as literally any of the others.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but I’ve been seeing a number of new posts in this vein lately and I guess I wanted to add my thoughts. 😌

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Request:  fuegoleon nsfw fic with wife s/o who's really hot? Fuego has been really busy with work lately and s/o feels neglected and sadly tells him one day that she's the only one who wants him but he doesn't want her? And it kinda hits a switch in fue, because he just can't fathom his wife thinking that HE doesn't want her, and he goes feral? Overstim, breeding kink, Dom!Fuego Lots of adorable aftercare too of you're okay with it🥰

A/N: Hiya! I got immersed into this while writing it, and it’s not 100% on with her telling him that she’s the only one wanting him, but the theme is there. This is also the hardest smut I’ve written to this day, I think, because while my Fuelara smut has been longer and more romantic, this is harder. Anyways, I do hope that you like it. And now I need a cold shower 🥵

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader (written in 1st person POV)

Fanfic type: Oneshot

Genre: Smut, hurt-comfort

Length: ~3.0k

Warnings: smut, cunnilingus (reader receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, no mention of birthcontrol, overstimulation (reader receiving), breeding kink, one mention of face fucking but no actual act, implied cervix fucking, crude language (”fuck me”), reader and Fue and married (established relationship), Fue says “I love you” mid act, Dom!Fue, aftercare minors DNI

It’s quiet. Well, if you don’t count the crickets. A part of me is surprised that there are already crickets at this time of the year, even if the summer is warm, which is why I have the window open in the first place. And another part of me is still glad that I can still hear them.

Another, much smaller, part. The part is muffled under the sigh that leaves my lips in an effort to relieve the restlessness in my body. But even if I wandered off from the open window, I’d find my way back to it soon enough I’m sure. Because the cool night air feels as if a caress against my skin.

A caress… that I crave for. The caress that I’ve longed for… for too many nights.

They say that the time your relationship is passionate is short, a few months, a year if you’re lucky, and then it starts to die down. I suppose I should say that I am luckier than most people then, granted that it took so long for us to get to this place. We had a good run… But that makes is sound like we would be heading for a divorce, which is far from the truth.

It’s not… bad… our relationship. It’s just more like a partnership. A business deal. And I could certainly do a lot worse, which argues against divorce.

Plus… I still love him.

And I hope… I hope that he still loves me. He says that he does, but the lack of touch, more than the generic hand on the shoulder in passing, speaks a different tale.

I hope that he loves me… and I hope that he still wants me.

There’s a thought that occurs to me, a very distasteful thought that makes me nauseous for a passing second.

But I know that he’s not the kind of a man to cheat on his wife. He’s not the type of a person to go behind one’s back and seek comfort in the arms of another.

I still love, and trust, my husband.

He’s simply a busy man, that’s all. And he is busy. There is a lot on his shoulders. I want to trust that, that’s all there is to it. I want to believe that he’s just tired… But there is not even a gaze to my direction anymore. Before, his busy schedule didn’t stop us. Though a long, sweaty night, or just a few hours of passionate, romantic love making was preferrable, a quicky was never out of the question.

And I swear, all the times I went down on him in his office, behind his desk, despite him feeling conflicted about doing such a thing in his office, he loved it. The way he smile, and the glimmer in his eyes told me that he drank it up like a starving man.

Besides, he never seemed all that … un-eager to do so. If anything, he seemed more concerned about my integrity than anything else. But we were married, and me going down on my husband was far from a scandalous thing. Though the rumours, and the noble circles might blow it out of proportions for some time, who cares? They can blow it out, and I can simply blow my husband.

Come to think of it…. How long has it been since the last time I went down on him?

How long ago was it that I last… satisfied myself?

It doesn’t feel right doing so in our bed, when he’s in deep slumber right there. And he could walk in on me in the shower, though I suppose that’s just wishful thinking.

I no longer know. All I do know is that it’s been long… far too long… And I have to wonder if he really does want me anymore… Because… though I’m only a few years younger than he is, maybe my body has changed away from his liking. Maybe I’m not… firm enough, perky enough, thin enough… Though I don’t think I have changed all that much since we met.

I… think…?

I don’t think I have changed that much. But maybe that’s just him losing his rose coloured glasses.

Maybe…

I sight to myself again as the loneliness I feel wraps around me as if a blanket, but that blanket just makes the warmth between my legs intensify and a knot form into my lower stomach which is trying to grasp onto something that isn’t there.

The door opens and closes behind me, and I hear another heavy sigh.

“My love? You didn’t need to stay up and wait for me,” his tone is warm and caring, but it is also tired.

I can’t blame him for it. I can’t blame him for being tired.

“I know….” I tell him as I walk away from the window and closer to him with my arms wrapped around myself, pressing the silken fabric of my nightgown against my skin even tighter. “And I know that you’re tired, but… there’s… something I want to talk to you about,” I admit, because this has gone for long enough. And there seems to be no end in sight to his schedule, so this night is as good as any.

“What is it?” He asks, and the question is fair. It’s frank, on point, and it is fair.

“I’ve… been… I’ve been wondering if…” I glance at the ceiling, because though this is hard, it’s a lot harder than I think. Because I don’t want to admit that I feel neglected. I don’t want to admit that I feel a yearning for him, even if I do. Though some time back I wouldn’t have as much as blinked about telling him that I want him.

Because I did. I do… I do want him.

“Yes?” His eyes are full of worry. There is a small frown on his face as he stands there, so close to me.

I can feel his warmth radiating through the air, and I can smell the faint scent of his lavender hair oil.

By gods how I miss that scent… I miss busying my nose into those auburn locks as his hands run over my body and I… miss him moving over mine, under mine… in mine…

I miss… him. All of him…

“Tell me, what’s wrong,” he implores again, this time with a tone that is both concerned and unwavering. He wants to know. He wants to know, because he cares. I know as much.

But it doesn’t make it any easier. However, regardless of whether it’s easy or not, I need to tell him. This is something that just needs to be discussed.

“I…” I utter while looking to the side. “I know that you’ve been busy lately, but I’ve…” I trail off again, because though that’s true, it’s only loosely connected to what I want to say.

So, I take a deep breath, and swallow, before whispering: “Do you… still… want me…?”

He takes a moment. But the moment, which must be no longer than a few seconds, feels much, much longer. It feels like an hour, a day, one fifth of an eternity.

“Do I still… want you?”

There is amusement in his tone. It is disbelieving amusement. It sounds like the question is absurd to him. Much more than to me.

“My love… Every night that you’re not next to me, I ache for you. Every day I long for you. And… I know that I’ve been tied to my job far too much as of late, it’s every day that I find myself craving for you.”

He takes a step closer to me. The warmth radiating through the air grows stronger, and I can hear his breathing growing lower, heavier… louder.

His hands take a hold of me…

“I crave… for you…” he whispers like sin, like the words that drip from his lips would be sweet like honey, decadent and filled with lust that he is feeling, just as me.

I turn to look at him, and I press closer to him, but that’s the last thing I realize before finding myself on our bed.

His frame, which is much broader than mine, is over me. His eyes, in the dim light of the bedroom, seem dark, like velvet, but the spark cast by the light of his flames, makes him seem hungry. It tastes like passion, feels like lust, and sounds decadent, like sin itself.

But I don’t mind the sin, not if it’s him.

I don’t mind the way he rips off my nightgown with an apology.

“I’ll buy you a new one…” he half whispers, half growls.

But I don’t mind.

I most certainly don’t mind.

I don’t mind as he pressed his head between my legs, and licksssss…

But it’s just a tiny, little kitten lick with the tip of his tongue.

I can still feel his breath gliding over me, over my clit, over my folds and his right there! But all he does is make the little lick that doesn’t satiate my hunger.

“Please…” I utter, but that’s when I realize that he’s just admiring me, because…

“You look gorgeous from every angle,” he tells me before pressing his mouth against my lower set of lips.

And he is hungry.

His tongue dances around, dips inside of and swirls around as my walls try to hold onto him. I try and I try as I clench the sheets in my fists. It’s been so long, and it feels so good… The way his tongue moves in and out and around in me…

And I want him in!

“Please!” I cry out to him and all he does is press his face harder against my folds as his fingers press harder against the tender flesh of my ass.

He hums, sending vibrations through me, and that’s when my toes curl and I see stars.

But that’s not enough for him.

I can feel his tongue licking around everything that flowed out of me with my orgasm, as he’s casing another high of mine.

His nose is pressed against my clit, and occasionally he flicks it with his tongue. And every time he does, I can’t help but mewl at him. Be-cause! Because… I need him, I want him, inside of me!

And his tongue isn’t enough. It is just not enough!

“Honey! I want-,” I manage through my pants, and I’m sure he can hear the desperation as my legs tremble. As they shake under him.

He lifts his head, and my hips jerk up, as if they’d crave for the touch as much as I do, and my legs open wider for him. Which makes his eyes glance down to my trembling, wet core, and then to my eyes as a smirk, a proud, grinning smirk frames those purple eyes that look like lust and velvet.

“I can’t… take this teasing anymore,” I tell him as my body is already on edge from the stimulation.

“Well…” he utters, looking pleased, and a bit smug, I have to admit. But then again he has every right to look as smug as he does, because he just make me cum for the 4th time tonight. “If you so wish,” he continues as he climbs on top of me and takes off his pants.

His cock is hard. It’s pointing upwards and the tip is oozing with precum.

It is twitching.

And it takes everything in my not to crawl down, shift down under him, against the sheets, and engulf that cock into my mouth.

He has never, properly, fucked my face, and he probably wouldn’t because he prefers me to be able to breathe. But if I did, that’d probably be the closest we’d get to it.

It might be, but I don’t have time to think about it more, as his cock is already sliding over my wet slit effortlessly, teasing my sensitive bundle.

I moan, and I gasp, but not in the way I would if he had inserted it.

He’s teasing me more, and as much as I love it, I hate it. Because this isn’t-, it’s not what I-

I don’t use crude vocabulary in bed. I don’t curse. And I’m bad at dirty talk, but…

“Fuck me,” I tell him.

His eyes open wider. He seems surprised by my words. But the surprise is quickly overtaken by more amusement.

“Breed me!” I tell him.

And he chuckles. He chuckles, but there is devilish intent in those eyes that stare down at me.

“You wish my seed to paint your insides that badly?” He asks with a smirk, and he has every right to smirk.

“Yes.”

And then he pushes in. With one. Swift. Motion.

My back arches, and I see stars again as I cum.

And through the white noise, through the sound of blood rushing in my ears, I hear him chuckle with a pleased sound. He is pleased. Because the way he has stimulated my body to this point, made it possible for me to cum with just him inserting himself inside of me.

“I’m going to cum inside of you,” he tells me, and I love that he tells me, that he whispers it against my ear with that low, sultry voice of his. “And then I’m going to…” he pauses, to choose the words, but instead of what I might expect, he chooses the words, the crude words that I chose a moment before. “I am going to… fuck you, with my sperm still inside of you.”

And by the gods, this man, this man who is my husband, who has talked so eagerly about starting a family with me, is driving me to oblivion in the best possible way.

He pushes in, and out, and in and out and I… loose track of how many times I cum. But when he pushes down once, and hard, and warmth spreads within me, the corners of my lips tug up because I know that he came.

He came and he’s still in me, plugging me up so that all of his seed stays inside of me.

“And now, my love…” he murmurs against my ear as his hand settles onto my cheek.

He lowers down, and pressed a kiss onto my lips. One, hard, passionate kiss…

And then his hand trails down to my neck… his big, broad hand that could wrap around my neck effortlessly… It trails down, and down, and down, until he scoops my legs and he presses me into a breeding press.

“I’m going to rid any loneliness from you,” he promises as his hips pump up. And. Down.

His hips slap against mine, as he pins me down. And his cock reaches all the way to my cervix. It’s like he wants to give it a French kiss.

And he can. He can. He can, he can, he can…

My walls clench around him, and I can feel my fluids mixing together with his between our legs. The damp, sticky feel that I don’t mind.

I don’t mind.

I don’t think to mind.

Because I’m focused on every groove, every vein of his cock as he slams in, and out, and back in me again. The way my body clenches around him, trying to keep a hold of him. Desperately tries to embrace him as he slides out, and then back to me again.

Drool drips from the side of my face as my eyes roll back, and all I can think is the building ecstasy in me.

His breathing rings next to my ear, and it’s growing unsteady. And still…

“I love you…” he murmurs, nearly growls as he slams his hips against mine for one… last, time, pressing himself against my cervix.

My toes curl, and my fingers press against the skin of his back so hard as I scream out his name while coming undone under him.

I can feel my body twitching from the pure bliss. Trying to clasp onto him again. But I’m also growing relaxed as I’m coming around from the orgasm.

He pulls out and lays down next to me as his fingers trail over my skin with a feather light touch. His eyes are on me, looking around, trying to spot any signs of discomfort while simultaneously admiring me.

I turn to my side while catching my breath, and snuggle close to him, against his chest.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks as his fingers draw circles onto my back; his words cascading onto me like a dawn, like silk and every good thing in the world.

“Yes,” I tell him, while still trying to gasp for air, but there is a smile on my face.

He leans down to place a kiss onto my head before laying down properly next to me, head on the pillow. His eyes are still looking over me, but now the gaze is filled with almost only admiration, no searching for signs of discomfort. Because there aren’t any.

Only those of fulfilment.

He still loves me, and wants me. Just as I still love and want him.

And even when I close my eyes, I can still feel him lying there, his hand carefully tracing over my skin. He’s so close, so very close that I can almost feel his heart beating for me through the air.

But the thing is, I know that it’s there without feeling it. I had simply forgotten it. I had forgotten how he, how this stern, loyal, loving and caring man is when he is in love.

Now I remember, and I never intend to forget again.

[another-lost-mc]

is it bad that as much as i like your ocs (theyre amazing, i love them!), i really miss seeing you write for the canon characters

You know, that’s valid. The proportion of Canon and OC content here lately has been way off. It’s sort of the elephant in the room I ignore every time I think about Obey Me and my inspiration automatically focuses on the world building or OC potential instead.

There’s a few reasons why I’ve been less interested in writing canon lately.

1. Disappointment with Nightbringer. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure why this game exists (except to overhaul the franchise’s monetization structure). The premise and lore payoff hasn’t been that great for me personally - it feels more like an AU rather than a canon addition/continuation of the OG game. It feels like we still end up with more loose ends and questions that we don’t have (and may never get) answers for. I’m still waiting for Raphael and Mephisto to be dateable, by the way. As a result, my focus when writing OM content has been using the OG story/characterization using the odd piece from NB that makes sense, and that leads into…

2. My favourite parts of Obey Me are under-developed in canon. I enjoy most of the canon cast, I really do. But I want more Celestial Realm lore, I want more Michael (and not NB HM Lesson 20 Michael), I want more angels in general. They’ve mentioned Uriel a couple times now, give me that angel please and thank you! (No longer relevant, I wrote a version of him myself.)

The world feels so empty at times but there’s so much potential. Parts of the Devildom are more fleshed out with NB adding to it, but what about the other realms? What’s going on with the Sorcerer’s Society and the reapers? I never know if the interesting hints of lore we get are truly relevant or if it’s just something the game decided was convenient for a plot point and never gets mentioned again. NB has been great for Solomon fans since it’s practically a Solomon x MC fanfic written with a forced roommates trope, and that might be the best thing about it from a lore perspective.

My OCs were originally meant to explore gaps in the world and give the canon characters room to grow beyond the one or two defining traits the game keeps repeating over and over. I like writing Mammon when I can have him interact with Karasu, I like imagining the types of angels other exchange students might meet in the Celestial Realm, I like giving a name and personality to the mysterious owner of The Fall where so many events and Devilgram stories take place. Admittedly, it was refreshing to see that other people enjoyed reading about them or imagining them paired with their own MCs/OCs too. I call them the OC Fan Club with genuine affection.

3. It’s not something I talk about often but before I began writing fanfiction, I was mostly focused on concepts or outlines for original stories. Writing supernatural and horror themes always been my interest as a writer so anything with demons/angels/other monstrous races automatically catches my eye.

It’s a little mean to say, but half-baked worlds like the Devildom are a lot of fun to use as a foundation for expanding my own ideas. The OC story I’ve been working on is one way for me to write longer and more complex pieces which is the type I like most. Granted, it includes nearly the entire game cast and it explores the Devildom and Celestial Realm in ways that tie together some of my favourite personal headcanons and characterization. It focuses on angel characters and the history/culture of the Celestial Realm which are two of my main interests for this game. It’s a huge project - the outline is nearly 20k words on its own, it’s practically a novel divided into four sections with 30+ chapters and an epilogue. I can’t even express how excited I am when I get to work on this.

That being said, I do like writing canon content and I’ve been missing it more lately. I got burnt out when it felt like I was losing interest in NB and was pushing myself to keep writing anyway which isn’t great.

Today someone left a nice comment on something I wrote a while back, an angst piece for the demon brothers. I haven’t read it in a while and after going back and re-reading it, I was like, “Huh, I don’t remember liking this as much as I do.” And then I remembered something in my drafts that’s been rotting away, half-edited and ignored, and realized that I wanted to finish it. So, I’ve been slowly tinkering with things while I work on my angels’ story. Some of my plans are ambitious and real life distractions (mostly health related, like my recent bout of COVID) haven’t helped.

If I learned anything about my writing since starting this blog, it’s that:

writing what you’re passionate about is more fulfilling than writing what seems trendy or popular

giving and receiving feedback and fostering friendships/supporting each other keeps the community thriving

self care self care self care

Anyway. My goal has always been to write about the things I love about the game world and the things I create that are inspired by it. It’s a delicate balancing act that I’m still working on.

[matsur1]

A Kuroo Tetsurou fanfiction penned by Matsur1

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: Not proofread yett, some things may be a bit confusing since I had a headache while writing this but nevertheless I hope you enjoy! Alsoo, it's my first time writing a haikyuu fanfic!! Do give feedbacks if you please🫶

“I’m tired of this, Tetsu,” you tell him in an irritated tone while you aid your weeping son who kept insisting he’d wait for his dad to come home no matter how late. And Tetsu? Well, your husband unfortunately just came back home from work. Not to mention that it’s midnight. He sighs deeply, rubbing his temple, “Look, I didn’t ask for this either, alright? Don’t blame it all on me,” he defends. “Didn’t ask for it? Well maybe if you’d just learn how to say ‘no’ to work, then things might be a tad bit better, yeah?” you bite back. “Ah, so what you’re trying to say is that it’s all my fault?” he asks, looking at you intently. You surrender, “No, it’s not that I just,” you take a deep breath, trying to exhale all the pain you feel, “It’s nothing, I’m probably just tired. I’m sorry, Tetsu.” He loosens his tie, quietly walking towards you while your little Jason starts to fall asleep. “I’m sorry, darling. I know I haven’t made much time for you and Jason but once work’s done, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he hugs you and Jason, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead. He makes his way to the bathroom without knowing about the tears building up in your eyes. Your eyes which he used to compliment all the time but is now too busy at work to even look at you. And that promise he’s made over and over again for the past five years? Always forgotten. You don’t even expect much anymore.

You bring Jason into his room and lay him on his bed. You sit on the bedside and stare at your sleeping son. He’s grown so much. He’s five now and you can’t even get to provide him a happy little family who could at least spend the weekends together. Sure, the material things you could both give him, but not the emotional things that a child would need, and that makes you feel guilt. You give him a good night kiss on his forehead and start to head out. You walk to the refrigerator to catch some water. As you pour water, hands loop around your waist and a head rests at your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he apologizes, “I know it’s been hard, and I’m sorry that I’m not always physically present.” You could feel the tears burn up in your eyes again. Tears for what could be but can’t be. “Tetsu, I’ve been thinking…” you mumbled. You clear your throat, “I’ve been thinking of getting a divorce.” The hands on your waist fall and the head on your shoulder lifts up. “What?” he says, almost demandingly, “Am I hearing this right?” You turn to look at him and leave the glass of water on the counter, “I’m sorry, Tetsu. I just think that this would be better for Jason. Perhaps by then he’d at least get the chance to spend time with both of us, even if it’s individually,” you explain. “Wait, wait, wait, are you… how long have you been thinking about all of this?” he asks in suspicion. “Tetsu, that’s out of the point. The thought just passed my mind, the thought that maybe Jason would be better off with separate parents rather than married parents who fight every night. Every single night, Tetsu. I always,” your voice starts to break, tears streaming down your cheeks, “I always feel guilty because Jason would have to go through such a thing at a young age. I don’t want that for him.” He holds your face with both of his hands and he lays his forehead on your forehead, looking at you, his eyes almost pleading. “But I love you,” he speaks, almost in a whisper. “And I love you too, Tetsu. So, so much.” you confess. “But I also love our little Jason,” you look into his eyes as your tears drip onto the marble floor. You softly remove his hands off of your face, “I’m sorry, I just can’t,” you cried, gently holding his hands. He looks down at the floor, still processing the things that have been happening. Processing the things that have happened in the last five years. Possibly going back to the times you and he were so excited to have the baby delivered. 

You then turn and go to the bedroom that you share with Tetsu while he stays still in front of the fridge. He felt his whole world stop. Almost as if his whole body is now paralyzed. Then he finally breaks, sobbing, holding onto the counter. He has no idea what to do next. You have no idea what to do next. You both burn in the same fire yet it’s as if a thick wall separates you both, leaving you unable to help each other.

The next day, you wake up to the sound of Jason laughing. Full of curiosity, you stand up and take a glance at the bed. Tetsu’s side was neater, unmoved. Did he sleep on the couch? Your heart broke at that thought. You slowly open the door, meeting with a lovely sight. Tetsu was cooking breakfast while carrying Jason, tickling his face with his nose. What a sight, indeed. As if the thought of Tetsu sleeping on the couch wasn’t cruel enough to break your heart. Your heart aches at the sight, wishing this was a daily basis. Wishing this was the family Jason had every day. But now that you think about it, did Tetsu not attend work today? Not that it matters, he probably took a day off work so you could both work on the papers. “Good morning, what’re you both cooking?” you ask them in a cheerful tone, putting up an act. “We’re cooking pancakes. Right, Jason?” Tetsu responds. “Yes! Daddy said he did not go to work so we could spend the day together!” Jason exclaims, giving you both a big smile. You were quiet for a quick moment but you quickly recover your smile, “Is that so? Well, are you excited Jason?” you ask him, taking him from Tetsu so he could start cooking properly. “Yes, yes, yes!!!” He repeats excitedly. “That’s good, but we gotta eat breakfast first, okay?” you tell him as he nods in response.

Later, when you were all ready to go, you all ride the car and get on your way to your agenda. Though it’s only Tetsu who knows about it. You and Tetsu kept quiet the whole ride while Jason kept himself busy watching at the road. And when you finally arrive at your destination, Jason excitedly jumps. It was his first time to go to an amusement park, and yours too. Knowing that fact, you looked at Tetsu, giving him an appreciative smile. Hours later, you all finally decide to go back home. Or so you thought. “What do you think of visiting Grandma, Jason?” Tetsu asks Jason. “Yes!!!!!!” Jason happily shouts. You look at Tetsu as he drives, so this was his plan, huh? Is he gonna tell his mom about the divorce now? You were left with thousands of questions on the way to Grandma’s house.

When you finally arrived, the three of you greeted Grandma with cheerfulness. Her house, still the same with its comfortable and feel-at-home vibe. Then, the three of you caught up with Grandma and you were expecting Tetsu to bring up the divorce, but he didn’t. Instead, “Well, we’ll leave Jason with you for a couple of hours, ma. You know we gotta have time for ourselves as well,” Tetsu winks while Grandma laughs. You join the laughter but knowing that wasn’t really the case made your heart drop. The whole time, you and Tetsu kept quiet, leaving an awkward atmosphere. “Sorry about this, Tetsu,” you apologize, your voice shaking. He keeps his eyes on the road, keeping his cool face. The silence went on for a while, taking over the whole car. “You know I still love you, right?” he finally responds. Tears start to build up in you. Before you could find words to reply, “And I always will,” he adds. As if that helped you feel any better. “I love you too, Tetsu.” You tell him in a whisper, looking outside the window. Those were the last words you told each other before you went and worked on the divorce papers.

“Jason? Can you come here for a minute, honey?” you kindly ask of Jason. Jason stood up, walking over to you and Tetsu with curiosity in his eyes. You pat down the empty seat on the couch that you and Tetsu are sitting upon. You hold his hand, “Me and Daddy made a decision,” you pause, not being able to go on. But you must, “we’re gonna live somewhere else, okay? Just you and me, a little far from here.” Jason’s curiosity turns into concern, “But why, Mommy? What about Daddy? Is he gonna live here alone?” Jason asks worriedly. Your heart breaks at his questions. “Yes, honey. But don’t worry, we can always visit Daddy on weekends. Is that alright?” you ask in a trembling voice while Tetsu keeps his head down, eyes stuck on the floor. “Only on weekends?” Jason pouts. “Yes, only on weekends. But it's better than never, right?” you try to convince him. “Yeah,” he pauses, his voice getting sadder by the moment, “Okay, Mommy.” He hugs the both of you. So much suffering for someone so young.

It's only been a few months since the divorce. You and Jason moved away, but not too far from your former house. Things have been hard but better now that you don’t have to worry about the time Jason spends with his Father. I mean, compared to before, Jason and Tetsu can finally spend time even if only for two days. Unlike before, the time they both spend together were uncertain. Nevertheless, co-parenting isn’t easy but easier than what you both expected. For the first week, Tetsu didn’t really have a plan so you all just ended up hanging out together in his house. But the following week, Tetsu had planned to bring you both at the beach. He taught Jason the basics of volleyball while you stood by, watching them have fun while making sandwiches for them. Tetsu kept trying to get you to play with them the way you both used to but you kept denying his offer, perhaps afraid to fall in love with him again and go back to the way it was. But then, did you ever stop loving him? 

Today, you went to Tetsu’s again, but this time he said he had no plans. You try to think of one to help him but none comes to mind either. “Perhaps this is a sign to just rest in the house again, maybe cook pasta together. Right, Jason?” he speaks about while picking Jason up. “I know!!” Jason exclaims. “Let’s play kitchen! I’ll be the chef and you and Mommy are my customers,” he suggests. So, Tetsu brought his kitchen set down and set it up for him. You and Tetsu sit on the floor to match your chef’s height. “You and Mommy sit over there while I cook here,” Jason instructs. Following Jason’s instructions, you both sit awkwardly while he cooks. He didn’t even bother to ask your orders but it’s Jason, he likes surprises. Jason glances at the both of you, “Mommy, Daddy?” he stops in the middle of his cooking. “Yes?” you and Tetsu answer at the same time. “Why are you both sitting so awkwardly? Act like you’re on a date! Face each other.” Jason scolds you. “Oh, alright buddy. Got it. Now get back to cooking before we start to smell burnt food.” Tetsu obeys. And so do you. So now you’re both awkwardly facing each other. You both try your best not to meet each other’s eyes but you do once in a while. “So how’s work?” Tetsu asks, trying to break the silence. “Work’s alright, how about yours? Your boss still bossing you around?” You attempt to joke, which seems to work because Tetsu chuckled. “Yeah, stressful. Thank god he let me take day offs during weekends though,” Tetsu replies. Your conversation kept going after that, and somehow, there was less awkwardness between you and Tetsu. But you did wonder why your chef was taking so long to serve food.

It was almost dusk and you were about to invite Jason to go back home but Tetsu asked you and Jason, “How about a movie?” and Jason, without hesitation, shouts yes. You sigh, but you can’t help but smile because you’re all finally bonding. Tetsu turns the TV on and turns the lights off to set the mood. While he and Jason were choosing which movie to watch, you suggested to make popcorn. They both agreed at that delicious idea. While you were on your way to the kitchen, Tetsu discreetly whispers to Jason, “If Mommy asks you to go home, tell her that you want to stay for a while more, okay?” Jason snickers at that idea and happily nods. When you came back with the popcorn, they were finally able to choose a movie and they had a strange smile on their faces that made you want to question them but you assumed they were just excited.

Later, when the movie finally showed the credits, you were about to speak and ask Jason to go home since it was starting to get late but Tetsu stops you, “shhh” he says as he points at Jason who’s sleeping soundly. You turn the lights on, “Oh great, what now?” you whisper-shout at Tetsu. “Well, you guys could spend the night, it’s getting late as well,” he replies in his low voice instead of whispering while picking up Jason to bring him to his bedroom. You were about to oppose to his idea but he had a great point. If you and Jason go home now, he’ll wake up and you’ll have a hard time bringing him back to sleep. You were cleaning up the living room and the kitchen when Tetsu came out of Jason’s bedroom. “You can sleep in my bedroom, I’ll make do with the couch.” He offers. “No, it’s alright, this is your house. Perhaps it's my turn to sleep on the couch this time.” You insisted. “Come on, you know I don’t like seeing you having a hard time,” he teases you with his perfect smile that you can’t help but smile back. “Alright, you gotta lend me some clothes though. After all, it was your idea that we spend the night here, right?” you smirk, knowing he probably doesn’t know you got him all figured out. “What?” he asks in shock, “You knew? You’re no fun, miss,” he playfully pouts. “You’ve always been easy to read, Tetsu.” You laugh. So does he, “Yeah, you always knew how to read me.” His statement makes you both go back to the old times. The times when you both were the campus couple. But now, you’re both left with awkward silence. “You know, I miss you.” He confesses. You looked away, trying to avoid his confession. “Please, Y/N. Give me another chance? It’s hard to live like this, I still love you. I love you and Jason.” He pleaded. “Tetsu…” you hesitate. “To tell you the truth, I left work,” he confesses once again. You look at him in shock, bringing your full attention to him. “What?” you ask, tears building up in your eyes. “I left work because that’s what took you both from me. And now, I found a new job. It’s still office work but it’s less busy than the last one. I have more time for you both now. So please, please, Y/N. Please come back home.” He looks at you with pleading in his eyes. “Tetsu, I… I need to think more about this. I’m sorry.” You turn to go back to his bedroom, softly shutting the door. Without a pause, you turn back at the door and silently cry against it. 

The next morning, Tetsu woke up with the sunlight hitting his face. He immediately stood up, remembering what happened last night. He runs to check Jason’s room, gone. Then he goes to the room you slept in, gone as well. Finally accepting the truth, he lets out a deep sigh, tears burning in his eyes. He shuts the door, having a good cry outside the door. For about half an hour later, he finally stands up. He makes his way to the kitchen to make coffee. Perhaps coffee could help give him energy for the long day today. He sat down on the island chair of the kitchen with his head facing down while he holds his cup of coffee when he hears the door open. He quickly looked up that his neck almost hurt. He was shocked to see who was at the door. It was you and Jason, with your dozen bags. “We’re back home,” you tell him in a sweet voice, giving him a sheepish smile. He drops his cup of coffee and rushes to both of you, hugging you both very tightly, almost saying he doesn’t want to let you go ever again. “Oh god, Y/N,” he whispers in relief. Finally, he pulls back, taking a good look at you both, caressing your face, “Welcome back home.”

© Matsuri