#And have watched most of the others live too

[cbuumbbles]

[Decode] Self-Aware! Caleb x fem!reader

CW:18+ MDNI

Summary: You're a twenty-something college student who uses LADS as a way to destress. Caleb has become your favorite ever since he was released. You have also became Caleb's favorite. (Caleb is also highkey lowkey yandere in this, but what's new).

A/N: This is my first time writing on tumblr, so I'm not exactly sure how to make it look like the fancy ones. Thanks for sticking with me here. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 (coming soon)

Using Love and Deepspace was a way for you to take a break from the stressful workload of going to college full-time while having a part-time job. Ever since the Infold devs released Caleb, you've been obsessed. He reminded you of a semi-emotionally available Kylo Ren. Sometimes you wished he were real, that way he'd help take your stressors away. Unknown to you, but Caleb had been watching you more than you were watching him.

He was looking at all of your internet history, most of the time monitoring it live while you used your phone. There wasn't a private corner of it, he had looked at everything. As a piece of code in a computer, it was easy to take in all of that information quickly. He knew what you liked and what you disliked... what your secrets were. Some things you liked were so secret that none of your friend circle knew about it, Caleb did though. He made it his mission to know everything you liked, he wanted to be perfect for you.

You went to bed that night, putting yourself to sleep the same way as every other night, by thinking of what it would be like to actually be in MC's place.

While you were asleep, Caleb spent most of his time sifting through his code to try and figure out how to get you to him or him to you. He just needed you by his side, he'd be the only one to keep you safe. From all of the pain and heartbreak you've experienced, he made it his mission to take that all away from you and keep you by his side to prevent it from ever happening again. Sometimes, you'd fall asleep with your phone in your hands. He loved those nights because it's almost like sleeping by your side. He loved the cute face you had while you slept. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and run his fingers through your hair, making your sleep much more soothing. He noticed how often you twitched throughout the night, it pained him knowing how restless you were. He wished to be able to calm you in your sleep, be that rock that he knows you so desperately need. From all of the text conversations he read, that much was clear.

By the time the sunrise came, he had made some impressive progress. He figured out how to get you by his side, he just needed to tweak some code first so by the time you woke up, he'd be making you breakfast in bed and you'd be none the wiser that he hadn't always been apart of your life. He could tell how much you liked the dynamic between him and MC, being childhood friends. He liked it too, wanting to make you feel special and keep you by his side from day one. Again, he knew exactly what you liked in a partner, so all he had to do was fix a few things and he'd be your perfect partner. All of the pain you experienced would be gone, you'd be safe and spoiled. It's what you deserved for having gone through all of that. He'd make sure to make you feel special every day of your life. He loved everything about you, even your independent spirit. As much as he loved it, he'd have to get rid of it. He needed you completely 100% reliant on him. The motivation of finally being able to see you is what's pushing him to get this code finished and ready for when you wake up.

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

You wake up in your bed at Caleb's apartment to the smell of breakfast food. You smile to yourself at how much he cares for you, always going above and beyond to make your life as stress free as possible. The one thing he couldn't get you to do was to quit your job. You liked having your own money, despite how much he spoils you. You always felt guilty when he'd spend his money on you.

"Hey pipsqueak, I made you some breakfast." You hear Caleb say from the doorway to your room. "How'd you sleep last night?" He asked, watching as you sat up, tying back your hair to get ready to eat.

"It gets pretty lonely in here at night, but I slept fine. You keep it so cold in this house!" You yell at your best friend, teasing him with a smile on your face.

"You know, pip, you could just come to my room if you were cold." He said.

"I don't want to bother you. You need your sleep too. You work all of the time." Caleb's career was engineering new airplanes. It was a tough job, but he was a smart guy and it earned him a lot of money.

"My work isn't as taxing as that pesky part-time job of yours." He looked at you, with a look you've seen many times before.

"I'm not going to quit my job! I'd understand if I were married to someone, but I'm currently single." You argue. It's always the same argument.

"I made you breakfast in bed and you won't even listen to my concerns." He feigns hurt. You just glare at him, making him snicker.

"You better eat it with me. You made a lot of food." You say, slightly scooting over to make room for him. He smiled at you, walking over to sit on the bed with you. "I'm so glad I don't have work today." You notice Caleb about to say something. "Don't start again. Just let me complain." You stopped him in his tracks, he chuckled to himself.

"You're so stubborn. You know that?" He looked at you, taking a piece of toast from your plate.

"If I weren't I'd be in this house 24/7. You'd never let me out of your sights!" You joked. His face changes in response to that, but you can't quite place the emotion behind it.

"Since you're off today and so am I, would you want to go somewhere today?" He asked you.

"Can we go to the mall? I want to see if they have anything new." You ask.

"Let's get ready after we eat then." He smiled at you.

"Don't buy anything for me, let me get it this time." You say, already knowing he has a plan forming in his head.

"You know I'm not going to agree with that?" He raises his eyebrow at you.

"Well, I can still try!" You fight back.

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

The day was coming to an end and he couldn't be happier. You were so much more beautiful in person. He loved looking at you, feeling your soft skin when he went to hold your hand when you had to cross the road. He regretted not starting off with you dating, but he had to practice patience. He wanted to experience asking you out, getting to see that flustered look on your face that he knows you'd have. Thankfully, he's coded it so that you're finally at a place where getting together is a real possibility. Sexual tension was high, pretty much all of the time. You'd get flustered around him easily, stuttering over your words. And you'd get more uncomfortable with physical touch, like cuddling on the couch while watching a movie. You used to be able to sleep in the same bed as him, but it's becoming harder and harder to resist him, so you stopped. He planned on making it so cold tonight, that you'd have no other choice than to come to him, whining about how cold it was. He'd offer to keep you warm while the apartment heated up and eventually convince you to join him in bed. Like clockwork, he heard the soft rapping of your delicate knuckles on his door. "Come in pips." He says as you open the door to walk in.

"It's so cold Caleb. Are you that warm, you freak?" You say, wrapping your arms around yourself. Caleb couldn't help but stare at your choice of pajamas tonight. You're wearing a purple silk pajama set that hugs your curves perfectly. He mentally thanks himself for getting it for you.

"Maybe if you were wearing warmer pjs, you'd be warmer. Come here, let me warm you up. I'll turn the thermostat up from my phone." He offers.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to layer myself in a winter get up if you'd keep the apartment at a normal temperature." You say, ignoring his offer. You couldn't, you'd somehow embarrass yourself in front of Caleb. He sees you as a sister, so you tried your hardest to keep your feelings hidden from him.

"Don't ignore me, come over here and get warm. It'll just be for a bit." He tries to persuade you. "You've been acting so distant lately, pips, I miss our cuddles." He says, successfully guilt-tripping you. You guessed that you didn't have to punish him just because you couldn't handle not freaking out by any touch he gave you. You crawled into the bed only to be immediately pulled into a massive bear hug with your face squished against his bare chest. Had his pecs gotten bigger? You think yes, but you decide not to point it out because the atmosphere would get very awkward. "See, I don't bite! I don't understand why you haven't let me cuddle you lately." He pulls away slightly to look down at you.

"I just haven't been in a cuddling mood is all." You respond, trying to avoid his eyeline, but no matter where you looked, you were met with him. He was so big, he took up your entire field of vision. So, you had no choice but to turn your head to look up at the ceiling. You felt Caleb start to play with your hair which caused an involuntary sigh of relief from you.

"Didn't you miss the free head scratches though?" He asked, lulling you to sleep by playing with your hair.

"I did. This is the best." Your voice was muffled from having your cheeks squished in between his chest and his bicep. Which, his bicep also seemed to have gotten bigger. He just must have gotten bigger. It's probably because he had to train a lot for when he did basketball during college. As much as you enjoyed being squished by his muscles, you hated the effect it had on you. Your breathing became uneven, you could feel your forehead start to sweat, and your cheeks were on fire. You're just hoping he doesn't take notice and keeps playing with your hair.

"You should move in, officially. That way we can do this every night. Doesn't that sound nice?" He was using all of your favorite things to bribe you!

"It does sound nice, but what's gonna happen when you get a girlfriend? She's not gonna be a fan of me living with you." You argued back.

"What girlfriend. All I need is my pipsqueak." He retorted.

"But you need someone who can give you romance and... um." You trailed off, suddenly remembering your close proximity.

"And... What?" He asked. Of course he had to ask. Fuck it, you're just gonna have to make things awkward.

"Sexual attention." You whispered. You could feel him lightly laugh. "You made me say it!" You defended yourself.

"Let me ask you a question." He said, you looked up at him, the moonlight shining on his face, "Would you ever want to give me those things?" He asked. Your eyes widen. Did he really just ask you that or are you dreaming?!

"You're just messing with me Caleb." You said, trying to justify what he just said to you.

"I'm not, I'm being serious. Don't think I haven't pinned down the real reason you won't go near me anymore. You're not that subtle." He explained making you want to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment.

"I don't understand where this is coming from." You say, unsure on how to proceed.

"I'm asking if you'll be my partner. My girlfriend." He uses the hand that was playing with your hair to caress your cheek. "You know I can give you the life you deserve, pretty girl. You could quit your job, move in with me. I could keep you safe. You'd never have to lift another finger." His reasoning wasn't needed to persuade you to be his, but it definitely gave you butterflies.

"How long have you felt like this?" You ask, curious as to when this started.

"Since we met, pips." He said. Your mind was blown. Everything started clicking in place in your head. Of course, that's why he's always been so protective of you, making sure boys stay away from you, making sure you got good grades in school, all of it. Everything made sense now and you felt like a fool for not noticing it sooner and just denying anything because you didn't think Caleb saw you as anything other than a little sister. "What's your answer?" He asked.

"Yes, of course I'll be your girlfriend. And this time, it'll be for real." You recalled all of the times he'd have you be his pretend girlfriend to fend off attention.

"Thank goodness, I was afraid you'd say no." Caleb said, putting on his greatest show. Of course he knew you'd say yes, he coded himself to be your perfect man. He did think it would take getting used to living in your hometown rather than in Skyhaven, but he loved it either way because it meant he was by your side.

"You must be blind to think I'd say no." You joked, digging your face into his chest.

"Well, you're a pretty girl, I'll always be nervous." He compliments you. "Are you gonna move in now? Or is my girlfriend gonna get mad that you're living with me?" He teased.

"Yeah, I missed having nightly sleepovers." You yawn from tiredness as you nuzzle into his warmth.

"God princess, your hands are still ice cold." He says as he feels your hands press up against his chest.

"Maybe if someone had kept the temperature at a reasonable degree, my hands wouldn't feel like the arctic ocean." You chide.

"Keep them on my chest and they'll warm up in no time." He somehow managed to pull you closer into his body. You could smell his cologne, faint from being worn all day, but still slightly there. If heaven were real, this would be it. You finally felt the peace you used to feel in Caleb's arms before you started boycotting physical affection from him. It felt like all of the stars had aligned and that you had never had a bad day in your life. His embrace melted all of your worries, stressors, agitators, and depression away. Caleb had always been your home and thank god because you wouldn't want your home to be with anyone else.

[themultifanshipper]

The netflix and chill reblog earlier... Little drabble please queen? 😌👉👈

- 🎲

Ask and you shall receive ^^

Warnings: Smut, gender neutral reader, ignore the tense change in the middle it's 2 in the morning

"I'm just glad to be home" Lando sighs into your neck as he hugs you tightly.

He just got back from the F175 live event and the traffic was horrendous so it's well after midnight by the time you hear his footsteps in the hallway.

"I'm so fucking exhausted, it was freezing backstage... I'm just gonna go to bed"

You pout at him mockingly.

"Are you too tired to... Netflix and chill?"

His nose scrunches up and he bites the inside of his cheek.

"You saw that huh?"

"I sure did." You grin "Though I do think you exaggerated a bit, you definitely spent more time on tarkov than on me" you smirk, picking at the hem of his shirt.

Lando's eyebrows shoot up in disbelief.

"That is definitely not true"

"Really?" Your hand lowers to his belt, and you unbuckle it expertly to slide the other in his pants "Because I was watching Max's stream and he said the same thing"

Lando hisses as your cold fingers make contact with his rapidly hardening cock.

"Don't talk about Max while you're touching my cock" he slaps them away and ushers you towards the bedroom. "Go and wait for me I'll be in in a sec"

You giggle and shuffle off in the direction of the bed.

Lando grabs his phone quickly, typing out a cheeky tweet before running after you.

"And now for Netflix and chill"

You neither Netflixed nor chilled.

He was on you in an instant, ripping his clothes off hastily in an attempt to get naked as quick as he could.

Neither of you could be bothered with prep so he grabbed a bottle of lube and squirted a generous amount over himself, the excess dripping onto your sensitive skin.

You hissed at the cold and he chuckled.

"Payback" he breathed, and any witty response you had died on your tongue when he pushed into you.

He bottomed out and immediately collapsed on top of you.

"God you're so warm and tight, baby. Could stay like this all night" he breathed into the crook of your neck.

You knew where this was going.

"Lando Norris don't you dare fall asleep right now"

He giggled and pushed himself up.

You could tell he definitely had a dopey tired look on his face so you rolled your eyes and pushed him off you.

"Right, lay back, I'll ride you. And if I see you nodding off I won't hesitate to twist your nipples."

He scoffed, but got into position.

You sank down on him in one swift move, and his hand went to grip your hips tight when you started a gruelling pace, bouncing on his cock until your thighs burned.

You only twisted his nipple once, and he kind of liked it, the freak.

It was after a good five whole minutes that you got tired and he took over, thrusting into you from below.

You played with yourself while he watched you fall apart on top of him. It was the most beautiful sight and it didn't take long for him to come as well after that.

As you lay there in bed, sweaty and too tired to get up and have a shower, he grinned into your skin.

"That was definitely better than Tarkov"

[dreamingdormouse]

I have two thoughts on this.

First, it's important to humanize bad people... partly because everyone should get human rights, even the people who you don't think deserve human rights, or else it becomes easy, as Ms Demeanor says, to have that "not everyone deserves human rights" idea turned on the innocent and marginalized. But ALSO it's important to humanize them because that's how we hold them accountable.

If a villain in a story is a literal monster, only capable of harm, we must stop them, but we don't waste energy on telling people not to be like that. We don't have to tell people "don't turn into a ringwraith" because that's not a risk. We can't prevent bokoblins from happening, just kill them.

But turning into a bad person IS something that happens, it IS a choice they made. Trauma made it easier to be cruel, but did not force them to become cruel. Plenty of other people experience trauma and either just live with it, or use that horrible thing to make them kinder. The bad people are humans, which means they could have chosen better. They are responsible for their actions in ways that a rabid dog is not. And seeing them as inhuman takes away that responsibility.

Second, we have so many books about this kind of character, and people love those books (not me, but many people).

If you've read The Hunger Games, you may know of a book called The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, about how President Snow became who he was.

If you've read Cinder and the other books in The Lunar Chronicles, you may know of Fairest, the prequel that explains how Queen Levana became who she was.

If you like the Abhorsen series, you may have read Clariel, and seen how Clariel made bad decisions with good motives, although I will admit that the corrupting influence of Free Magic is, like ringwraiths, not an issue for most of us. But a good kid became a villain in that one too.

Then there are the stories that aren't prequels, where you don't know going in that this is the story of a villain's rise. I feel like even naming those is a spoiler! But I'll just mention the movie Chronicle and the book Empress by Karen Miller.

If you want to see how ordinary people can choose cruelty and feel justified, read or watch those stories. Lots of people love them. (I don't, personally - I'm not a big fan of tragedies. When it's a prequel and I already know the character will end up choosing cruelty, it feels like they're doomed. And when it surprises me, it's like a horror movie you didn't know was a horror movie. Like when you're screaming at the screen "Don't split up!" "Don't go in that room!" "Look behind you!" or things like that, I feel like I'm going "Bad idea bad idea!" more and more and seeing them corrupt themselves.)

Anyway, point being...

Your

Enemies

Are

Humans

They may not be changeable at this point. They're someone you stop, not someone you can fix. But they are humans, we need to give them human rights (for our sake, not theirs), it may help to understand how they choose what they did, they are responsible for their own actions.

Stop making them monsters, it lets them off the hook.

I thought it was fairly normal to feel empathy for bad people.

I thought it was common, even.

But after my Elon/Grimes post... now I'm wondering if I was mistaken about that.

I wrote a post about Trump being traumatized after his assassination attempt and a post about his poor adaptation to aging. I expressed sympathy for him in both cases. But I still maintain my white hot hatred of him and wish for him to face consequences.

Elon was abused by his father. Some of the stories are incredibly tragic. Hearing those stories triggers an involuntary response in my emotional systems that I can't stop no matter how much I despise present-day Elon. I also wonder if that abuse never occurred maybe we wouldn't be dealing with this current clusterfuck.

I have never held so much anger towards a single person as I do my brother. But I also see him as a victim of abuse. I know he was once a really good person and he was slowly corrupted. I feel sorry for him. I mourn the amazing person he used to be. And I still love him.

But that doesn't make me any less angry.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Sideline Chemistry

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Sports Media!Reader

Fandom: UConn’s women’s basketball

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: As a sports media intern, having to interview Paige for a class project and games should be fun right, but she takes it as an opportunity to shamelessly flirt each time.

As far as internships went, I had a pretty good one. Covering UConn sports for SNY as a student journalist meant I got to attend games, interview players, and build a solid portfolio. But it also came with one huge downside—my current assignment.

Interview Paige Bueckers.

For most people, that wouldn’t be a problem. Paige was an easy-going interview subject, known for her charm and humor. But I wasn’t most people. I was also in her friend group, which meant I had to deal with that version of Paige—the one who lived to tease me, held eye contact for way too long, and always found a way to make me flustered.

I’d prepared a professional approach. Keep it short, ask good questions, and don’t let Paige’s antics get to me.

Too bad she had other plans.

By the time I arrived at the UConn practice gym, most of the team had already left. A few players were still getting shots up, but Paige was leaning against the scorer’s table, scrolling through her phone.

She looked up when she heard my footsteps, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite journalist,” she said, slipping her phone into her hoodie pocket.

I sighed, setting up my camera. “Don’t start, Paige.”

“What? I’m just stating facts.” She stepped closer, resting a hand on her hip. “I feel honored. You could’ve interviewed anyone, but you chose me.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on adjusting my tripod. “I had to choose you. It’s an assignment.”

“Mm-hmm.” Paige rocked back on her heels, watching me work. “Admit it, though—you’re kinda excited.”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah, totally. This is the highlight of my week.”

She smirked. “See? Told you.”

I shook my head, refusing to let her get under my skin. “Can you just stand over there so I can frame the shot?”

Paige moved to the designated spot, but instead of standing normally, she put her hands in her hoodie pockets and tilted her head, eyes locked on me.

“You’re staring,” I muttered, adjusting the camera settings.

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

My fingers fumbled over the buttons, nearly knocking the camera off its mount. Paige’s quiet laugh filled the space between us.

“Paige,” I warned.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just being supportive.”

I took a deep breath, trying to reset my brain. Focus. I hit record and lifted my notepad.

“Alright, let’s start. Name, year, position.”

Paige grinned. “You already know all that.”

“It’s for the recording, genius.”

She huffed dramatically but answered. “Paige Bueckers, red shirt senior, guard.”

I nodded. “So, this season’s been a big one for you. Coming back after injury, new team members, leading the team—what’s been the most rewarding part?”

Paige leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her knees. “Honestly? Just being back on the court with my teammates. The rehab process was tough, but it made me appreciate the game even more. And, you know…” She flashed me a smirk. “It’s nice having my favorite reporter covering it all.”

I kept my expression neutral. “I’m sure you say that to every reporter.”

“Nah. Just you.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a smile. “Next question.”

Paige chuckled, clearly enjoying herself.

I went through a few more, mostly straightforward ones about team chemistry, goals for the season, and her personal growth as a player. And, to her credit, Paige answered them seriously—at least, until the end.

“Last question,” I said, scanning my notes. “What’s something people don’t know about you?”

Paige pretended to think. “Hmm. That I’m a great flirt.”

I blinked at her. “Paige.”

“What? It’s true.” She leaned back, giving me a slow once-over. “Want me to prove it?”

I pointed at the camera. “I will put this in the final cut.”

“Oh, please do,” she said, grinning. “Maybe it’ll finally get you to admit you like me.”

My breath caught in my throat. She wasn’t just playing around anymore—there was something different in the way she said it. Confident. Sure.

The air between us shifted.

I looked at her, really looked, and she met my gaze without hesitation. Her blue eyes held mine, steady and unyielding, a challenge wrapped in warmth.

I swallowed hard. “Paige—”

“Say the word,” she murmured, stepping closer. “And I’ll stop messing with you.”

The way she said it—low, teasing, but undeniably sincere—made my brain short-circuit.

A sharp whistle from the other end of the gym shattered the moment. I jolted back, turning off the camera.

“We’re done,” I said quickly.

Paige chuckled. “For now.”

I spent the next couple of days editing the interview, but no amount of technical work could erase the way Paige had looked at me. It didn’t help that our friend group noticed something was off when we met up for a post-practice dinner.

“You’re quiet,” Azzi noted, sipping her drink.

“Just tired,” I lied, stabbing at my fries.

Paige, sitting way too close beside me, leaned in. “Or you’re thinking about something. Or someone.”

I elbowed her. “Stop.”

Kk, sitting across from me, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Paige smirked. “She interviewed me. Got all flustered.”

I groaned. “I was not flustered.”

“Yeah?” Paige tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “So you didn’t almost drop your camera when I complimented you?”

Azzi grinned. “Oh, this is good.”

I shot Paige a glare. “You’re the worst.”

Paige just laughed, draping an arm over the back of my chair. “Nah. I’m your favorite.”

Kk snorted. “Yeah, this is definitely a thing.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Can we change the subject?”

“Fine,” Paige said, nudging my knee under the table. “For now.”

But as the night went on, she stayed close—casual touches, lingering looks, little comments only I could hear.

By the time I left, my heart was pounding.

A week later, my professor praised my interview, and my editor asked if I wanted to do a follow-up feature on Paige.

I hesitated.

Another interview meant more flirting. More of those looks. More of whatever was happening between us.

But before I could think too hard, Paige texted me.

Pb5🙄: So when’s our next interview? Gotta keep my favorite reporter happy.

I stared at my phone, exhaling.

Then, against my better judgment, I replied.

Me: Next home game. Try to behave this time.

Pb5🙄: No promises.

And somehow, I knew she meant it.

The next home game came so quickly, I wasn’t even mentally prepared.

So, when the first half of the game had been intense, UConn leading by only a few points against a tough opponent. Paige had been playing lights-out, and I knew she’d be the one pulled for the halftime interview.

I ran over my questions in my head, reminding myself to stay professional. But when Paige jogged over after the buzzer, sweat on her brow and a grin on her face, I knew I was in trouble.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, eyes glinting as she took her spot next to me.

I swallowed hard, forcing a neutral expression. Professional. Focus.

“Paige, great first half from you,” I started, keeping my voice steady. “What’s been working so well for you and the team so far?”

She wiped her forehead with her jersey before answering. “Honestly, just playing together, trusting each other. The energy is great out there.”

A solid, textbook answer. Good. Maybe she’d keep it normal.

I nodded, moving to my next question. “You’ve been on fire, leading the team with 15 points already. What’s your mindset going into the second half?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, her smile just a little too amused. “Stay aggressive. Keep making plays. And, you know—keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

My breath hitched.

I knew she was doing it just enough to be subtle—flirty, but professional enough to avoid getting in trouble. Still, my ears burned.

I cleared my throat. “Right. Well—uh—” I cursed myself for stumbling, but Paige’s smirk only grew.

She lifted an eyebrow, waiting. Daring me.

I quickly recovered. “What adjustments do you think the team needs to make in the second half?”

Paige took pity on me, answering normally. “Just tightening up on defense, getting stops, and taking smart shots. If we do that, we’ll close this game out strong.”

I nodded, feeling my pulse return to normal. “Thanks, Paige. Good luck in the second half.”

She leaned in slightly, voice lower but still audible on the mic. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

I barely held back a reaction as she jogged off, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

And then I heard the announcers laughing.

I turned my head slightly, realizing the game commentators had been watching the whole thing.

One of them chuckled, “I don’t know about you, but I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.”

The other commentator joined in. “She’s got the confidence on the court and off it. That was smooth.”

I wanted to die.

The interview wrapped, and the second half started, but my phone was already blowing up.

Fuzzy Fudd: No way you just let that happen on LIVE TV.

Hey Arnold: Paige Bueckers is NOT real.

Icey B: Not sweetheart on a broadcast—BE FR.

Kayla Wayla: girl. GIRL.

Me: you three shouldn’t even be on your phone rn, like listening to coach fudd about the two man pick n roll p and sar been doing all night.

I groaned, clicking send before stuffing my phone in my pocket. I am never living this down.

UConn won. Of course they did. Paige went on a scoring tear in the second half, finishing with 27 points, and the team dominated the fourth quarter.

By the time I finished post-game coverage, I was exhausted—and dreading seeing our friend group.

But Paige had other plans.

As I packed up my things, she walked over, still in her warmups, a towel draped over her shoulders. “Hey.”

I glanced up, wary. “Hey.”

She grinned. “So, since I was on my best behavior tonight—”

I shot her a look. “Best behavior?”

“Okay, decent behavior,” she corrected. “I think I deserve a reward.”

I sighed. “What do you want, Bueckers?”

Paige shifted closer, lowering her voice just enough that it sent a chill down my spine. “Go on a date with me.”

My brain short-circuited. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” she said smoothly, blue eyes locked onto mine. “A real date. No interviews, no sideline reports—just us.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

She smirked. “You thinking about saying no?”

I exhaled sharply, glaring at her. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” she shot back. “So? What do you say?”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. “Fine. One date.”

Paige grinned like she’d just won the national championship.

“Oh, and don’t think you’re off the hook for movie night tomorrow,” she added, nudging my arm. “Kayla said we’re doing a marathon, and you’re not skipping.”

I groaned. “Paige—”

“See you there, sweetheart.” She winked before jogging off, leaving me stunned for the second time that night.

I should have known I wouldn’t make it through the night without getting clowned for the halftime interview.

Kayla’s apartment was packed when I walked in. UConn’s entire women’s basketball team, plus a few extras like me, Sam and Kariny had claimed every available couch, bean bag, and blanket-covered floor space. The lights were dimmed, popcorn bowls were already half-empty, and The Lion King was paused on the screen.

But the second Paige walked in after me, all hell broke loose.

“Ohhh, look who finally decided to show up,” Ice called out, her smirk way too satisfied.

Caroline flexed dramatically from her seat on the floor. “UConn’s power couple has arrived!”

Azzi, the only one who usually kept it low-key, still shot me a knowing look. “I hope you’re ready for tonight.”

Paige just grinned, completely unbothered. I, however, was already regretting this.

We barely made it to an open spot on the floor before Ice turned to the TV. “Hold up, before we start, let’s go over tonight’s highlights.”

She grabbed her phone, tapped something, and suddenly, my own voice echoed through the dorm.

“Paige, great first half from you…”

I froze.

No. No, no, NO.

“ICE, I SWEAR TO GOD—”

“Oh no, let it play,” Paige interrupted, smirking.

The entire room erupted when we got to the part where Paige smoothly said, “Keep impressing my favorite reporter.”

Aubrey wheezed. Kayla facepalmed. Ice was on the floor.

KK pointed dramatically. “AIN’T NO WAY.”

I wanted to die.

“Okay, fun’s over,” I rushed, reaching for Ice’s phone, but Paige just casually leaned back, enjoying the chaos she created.

Azzi chuckled. “Nah, because the announcers even backed her up—‘I think Paige might have a favorite reporter for real.’”

Allie snorted. “THEY WERE ROOTING FOR HER.”

I groaned, sinking further into my spot on the floor. “This is actual harassment.”

Kayla nudged me. “It’s what you get for flirting on live TV and expecting us to ignore it.”

“I WASN’T FLIRTING.”

The entire room answered in unison: “YOU WERE FLIRTING.”

Paige, the devil herself, finally took pity on me. “Alright, alright, let’s focus on something important—like how I carried us to victory tonight.”

That successfully derailed the conversation, as the team started debating plays from the game.

But Paige?

She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. “You were flirting, by the way.”

I turned my head sharply, ready to argue, only to be met with those damn blue eyes already on me.

Paige smirked. Held the eye contact.

I swallowed hard.

This girl was going to be the death of me.

Kayla clapped her hands. “Alright, we’re starting the movie! No more flirting in the corner.”

“We’re not—” I started, but KK cut me off.

“Shhh, let them have their little thing.”

I gave up. Completely.

Paige just threw an arm around my shoulders as the movie started, completely unbothered by the attention.

“Hope you like long movie nights,” she murmured.

I huffed, but I didn’t move away.

I was doomed. So, so doomed.

And, somehow, I didn’t mind one bit.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[juniperskye]

The Nanny

Based on the following ask: @itzvenus04I was thinking of like sunshine soft girl reader x cloudy and broody serious Aaron meet as he hires her as Jack nanny because Jack liked her the best and of course Jack thinking his nanny is perfect he tries everything he can to get his dad and nanny together which ends up working and Jack is happy because he has another mommy now, not to replace Haley but to love him like a mom because a kid always needs his mom no matter what age

Aaron Hotchner x Nanny! Fem Reader Fluff Word count: 2185

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, significant age gap (non-specified, but legal), Sunshine! Reader, Grumpy! Hotch, reader is a nanny, Jack being the ultimate match maker, boss-employee relationship/blurred lines, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had been working for Aaron Hotchner for the last six months. You’d gone out of your comfort zone and signed up for one of those nannying sites, the ones where parents would go on and select your profile…almost like online dating. The only thing is, you were looking for a live-in nanny position, see, you’d just graduated college and had been living on campus and now that you had graduated, you needed a place to stay until you found a permanent residence. You could only stay in your friend’s studio apartment for so long.

Aaron hadn’t been too sure about hiring a nanny, especially a live-in one. Jessica had suggested it, seeing as she’d become increasingly busy helping her dad and taking on additional shifts at the hospital. She told him that it would be good to have someone at the house taking care of Jack, running him to and from school and soccer, someone who’d cook and clean and…the more she described it, the more Aaron thought it would be like hiring a 50’s housewife.

He sat on the idea a while; he hardly thought it would be appropriate for a man of his age to hire some young woman to come into his home and play wife while he was out working all day. He figured the best thing he could do would be to look into one of those sites that match nannies to families based on needs.

That is how he had chosen you and honestly, you couldn’t have been more grateful for that fact. Jack had been the best kid and getting to watch him felt more like hanging out with a child of your own…he’d made you feel so welcomed and it filled you with joy.  You’d enjoyed the Hotchner boys, although you didn’t see Aaron all that often, when you did, it always stirred up a fuzzy feeling within you.

--

Aaron was out of town at least once a week each month, those weeks were hard on Jack, but you’d made sure to fill the time with building Legos, coloring, baking, and soccer practice in the yard. You’d made all of Jack’s favorite meals and read him and extra bedtime story on nights Aaron was out of town. Anything it took to make things easier on him.

Truthfully, you liked the weeks when Aaron was out of town, it made your life a little easier, because despite that fuzzy feeling Aaron gave you…he wasn’t always the sweetest person in the world. He was kind of a grump.

In the six months you’d been working for him, you had learned that Aaron was an FBI agent, more specifically the Behavior Analysis Unit. You knew he was in charge of the team he worked with and that they travelled quite frequently. Jack constantly referred to him as a superhero. You learned that he loves the Beatles and the most important thing in his life is his son.

The other thing you had learned in that time was that he detested you. He’d made an effort to learn as little as possible about you, promptly changing the subject any time you’d said anything, even remotely personal. Little did you know, Jack was sure to fill his dad in on all the wonderful things he’s learned about you.

--

Jack had formulated a plan; he was going to get you and his dad together. In the short time you’d been working with them he’d been able to see that his dad was happier and less stressed out. His dad had more time to spend with him when you were around. He also loves you; you are sweet, and you take care of him, and it reminds him of his mom. That had made him sad at first, but very quickly, he came to appreciate it.

So, he decided he would help you by giving you insight into his dad’s favorite things. On the other hand, he’d talk you up to his dad in hopes to break his walls down just enough to let you in.

--

“Alright Jack, your lunch is all packed, can you run and grab your shoes and your backpack?” You asked him.

“Okay! Did you put one of our brownies in there?” He asked, jogging down the hall.

“Of course I did!” You called after him. “Mr. Hotchner, I packed your lunch as well. I was planning on going to the grocery store after I drop Jack off, was there anything in particular you’d like for dinner this week?”

“Whatever works.” He huffed.

“Okay, well I will email over the menu I had in mind then and if there’s anything you don’t like, just let me know.” You offered.

“Will do.” Aaron grabbed his bag and turned away. “Bye buddy, have a great day today.” Aaron pressed a kiss to the top of jacks head before ruffling his hair and heading out to work.

“You ready bud?” You asked.

“Make a pot roast with mashed potatoes.” Jack said.

“What?”

“It’s dad’s favorite.” Jack smiled.

--

You were putting the finishing touches on dinner while Jack was working on his homework at the kitchen island. You had taken his suggestion and went with a pot roast for dinner, figuring it couldn’t make matters worse.

“Alright bud, go wash your hands and put your homework in your folder.” You requested.

“Okay!” Jack made his way down the hall.

You set the table with three perfect place settings, you’d poured jack a glass of chocolate milk, yourself a small glass of wine, and Aaron his usual scotch. You plated up the food, mashed potatoes, pot roast with carrots, and a small salad. It was moments like this, waiting for Aaron to some home that your mind drifted to thoughts of truly sharing this domesticity with him.

You imagine him walking through the doors, placing his briefcase down, coming up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. Complimenting how good the food smells and asking you about your day. In these little daydreams, he was warm and sweet, not his usual grumpy self.

--

The door opens and you immediately hear the huff that escapes him. Exhaustion surely seeping in after a long day of work. This is part of why you loved this job, despite his coldness, you enjoyed taking care of the Hotchner boys. It made you happy knowing that he could come home after work and not worry about anything.

“Daddy!” Jack hollered.

“Hey buddy.” Aaron knelt down and lifted Jack into his arms.

“It smells good in here, what’s for dinner?” Aaron asked.

“Well, Jack informed me that pot roast is one of your favorites, so I changed up the menu a bit and made that for dinner. I uh – I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, that’s – that’s fine.” Aaron let out an awkward cough.

So, the three of you sat and ate dinner. While you ate, Jack rambled on and on about his day and all the things that happened while he was at school. You were desperately trying to attend to the conversation, but you couldn’t help but be distracted…Aaron’s gaze had been lingering on you for the last ten or so minutes.

“Hey jack, why don’t you put your plate in the sink and go get ready for bed huh? I’ll come up in a bit to read a story with you.” Aaron said, his gaze never leaving yours.

Jack nodded his head and followed the directions his dad gave him. All the while Aaron continued to look at you, surely profiling you. You were becoming uneasy, sitting there under his gaze.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Nothing. Thank you, for dinner, it was delicious.” He complimented.

“Oh, um of course! I’m glad you liked it.” You blushed.

--

It was a rare day that Aaron had off, on these days he likes to let you off the hook. This allows you to shop, go out with friends and get lunch, get your hair and nails done, the whole nine yards. Jack thought that a day out with his dad would be the perfect time to talk about you. They had been talking about how you helped him study for his spelling test this week which led to him getting 100%.

“Hey dad?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Why do you hate her?”

“What I don’t – I don’t hate her. I just, I ugh…I don’t know bud. I don’t hate her, she’s great.” Aaron stumbled over his words.

“You aren’t very nice to her though. Which is weird because she’s really nice and she makes us both happier, I can tell.” Jack smiled.

“I’m nice to her!” Aaron defended.

“No, you’re not. But you can be! Her birthday is coming up, we should have a party!” Jack suggested.

--

It was your birthday, you had been thankful it was on a Saturday this year, and Aaron was off which meant he’d likely give you the day off and you could spoil yourself a bit. So, after sleeping in a bit later than usual, you made your way to the kitchen only to be met with the Hotchner boys making pancakes.

“Well good morning!” You greeted.

“Happy birthday!” Jack shouted, wrapping his arms around your neck from his position on the counter.

“Thanks bub! Are you making chocolate chip pancakes? You know those are my favorite.” You teased.

“Yeah! It was dad’s idea to make them.” Jack informed.

“Oh – um thanks.” You were caught by surprise.

“Of course. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” You shyly smiled.

The three of you sat and enjoyed breakfast together, it had felt different than usual. Aaron had been different today, happy almost.

“So, I figured, since I’m home today, perhaps you could take the day off?” Aaron suggested. “I do have something to do around 6 though so if you could be back by then?”

“Really? That would be awesome, I really need to get my hair and nails done.” You laughed.

--

You had texted a few of your friends and met them at the nail salon, getting your fingers and toes done while filling them in on the latest…more specifically Aaron’s new kind side that he’s been showing.

They had told you it was because he likes you, to which you were quick to shut down. They all knew you had a soft spot for the older man, and they were sure he liked you back, especially when he was pushing you away. One of your friends claimed it was because he probably didn’t want to “corrupt” you.

 After getting them to finally relent in their teasing, you had suggested lunch. The girls treated the whole day, nails, lunch, hair and lastly a new dress from your favorite boutique.

“You should wear that one home.”

“Why?”

“For Mr. Hotchner…show off your hot self. Maybe get some for your birthday!”

“Oh my gosh, stop! It’s not like that.” You shook your head.

“Girl maybe it could be…just wear the damn dress!”

And so, you did. You changed into the new dress and had your hair perfectly styled and your nails done. You knew Aaron had somewhere to be at 6, but you figured you could at least catch him off guard prior to then.

--

You parked your car and made your way around to grab your bags, then headed up the two little steps that led into the house. Before fishing your key out of your bag, you paused, inside you could hear Aaron and Jack talking…something about balloons and streamers. You smiled to yourself, quietly letting yourself in.

“Hey guys! What’s all this?”

“You’re early!” Jack said.

You looked around and felt nothing but warmth radiating through you. There were balloons and streamers decorating the living and dining rooms, sat on the table was a birthday cake along with a few gifts. Pizza from your favorite place was sat on the coffee table and the living room had been rearranged so the guestroom mattress was laid out with cozy blankets and pillows, while your favorite movie was queued up on the TV.

“You did all this…for me?” You gasped.

“Yeah! We wanted to show you how much we love you.” Jack said, hugging you.

“You do?” Your gaze met Aaron’s.

“Yeah, we do.” He said.

--

That night the three of you ate pizza and laid on the mattress in the living room, watching movies. Before it got too late the boys made sure you had cake and opened your gifts, Jack had picked out a paint set for you, knowing you enjoyed watercolors. Aaron, well, he’d gotten you a first edition of your favorite novel. You’d been rendered speechless.

The three of you made your way back to the living room and laid down to watch a final film. Jack had been snuggled up to you, quickly falling asleep, and you fell not long after. Aaron smiled at the sight of you two, it had gotten him thinking that having you around may not be so bad after all.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust @khxna

[maxwellatoms]

Do you think were any kind of specific aspects of the culture, industry, economy, etc that made making cartoons in 90s / 2000s better or worse than trying to make them today?

They're literally different worlds.

As a 22 year old neurodivergent, I was able to pitch show ideas directly to executives. Part of that was because TV Animation wasn't a glamorous profession (quite yet), so the higher-ups were genuinely passionate about the medium. I earned good money for the time and was generally trusted to run my show and tend to the crew. I would periodically be handed portfolios, which I would personally review and pass on to other show runners. For the networks it was always corporate, cutthroat, and ultimately about the money, but as an artist you could still have a voice and make art while being paid a living wage.

The pay for a freelance storyboard in 2005 is almost exactly what it is today, but now you're likely to have less time and be required to do an animatic on top of it. Portfolios are online, and (beyond metrics) you'll probably never know if anyone looks at it or not.

Animation got big. Too big. The executives got "glamorous", then the talent got "glamorous". By then you probably wouldn't get a pitch meeting unless you were a celebrity or knew one willing to be connected to your project. Animation eventually got so big that it popped. And that's where we are now.

Most of the people I know from Kid's TV Animation are currently unemployed. I have been off Jellystone for over a year, and I'm starting to get genuinely worried. Like, "move away to save money" worried. Most of the employed artists I do know are on long-running legacy series, and they're concerned about their futures when/if those series end. Right now is not a fantastic time for "animation as a money-making profession". The "glamorous" part popped years ago.

That being said, there are still opportunities out there. If you're just starting out, apparently there's a planned surge in adult and pre-school animation. It's also a great time (as long as YouTube remains sane) to be crafting your own content. But I think that the time of Big Studio Patronage is over for most of the industry. It's up to the individual artist now more than ever, not only to make but to promote their own content.

Back at the height of Billy & Mandy, we mostly pulled fours and fives in the Neilsen ratings, but we occasionally got a seven. For reference, E.R. consistently got eights. It's difficult to say exactly how many people that actually was due to how those ratings work, but it was a big deal for the time. Millions. Enough people that if I had a dollar for each person that just watched that one episode, I would have been set for life. Now, nobody gets a seven. A four is huge. Back then there were maybe fifteen or twenty channels of programmed content as opposed to the streaming smorgasbord we were all just enjoying (and which now also seems to have popped). Point being, even though I wasn't paid-per-view, I was able to use those views as justification for an eventual raise. In modern times, streaming numbers are seemingly deliberately kept secret. You'll never really know how well your show was doing until it's over. Or maybe never.

In modern times, a million views on YouTube is enough to get you noticed online. It's a lower bar for entry in a way, but you've got to get there all by yourself. Once you're there (hello Hazbin) a network may indeed come and scoop you up. Even if they don't, you can probably make a decent living with numbers like that if you're savvy and willing to take the time.

I feel like I could go on all day, shaking my fist at the sky, gray-ass beard blowing in the wind. Was it better or easier making cartoons in the past? It seemed that way to me, but that was a world I knew. There was no AI to sell you out to, and the media was more of a "Wild West" than it is today. I do think that AI is going to continue to displace artists (and soon others), making it even more difficult to get anyone's eyes on anything at all.

Culturally, we lack the common cultural touchpoints that bonded our society in the 20th Century. I suspect that the media landscape will continue to become more "bubbly" and disjointed unless some powerful force swoops in to mandate a common viewpoint. Those are two very divergent, uniquely tiring futures, each presenting a different challenge for an artist's survival.

Outside of whatever our modern world is, animation was made for a century by photographing drawings. If Émile Cohl could do it in 1908, you can do it now. It's a lot of labor, but maybe that's part of what makes it special.

[fitchersvogel]

Hi! And to answer your question, nope: "legends"* are a specific type of folk narrative, and all folk narratives are best distinguished from formal (often commercial) storytelling modes like literature/movies/etc by how they circulate, not what they contain. Like I said above, folklore means "traditional, informal, exhibits dynamic variation"; literature--which fanfic is--has a stable text, and is the work of a particular author in their own words.

King Arthur is a legendary figure--as in, stories about him were (probably) circulating out in the wild in the medieval period. HOWEVER, Chretien de Troyes' poem Lancelot is NOT folklore: it's a formal piece of literature that draws upon both pre-existing literature (like Geoffrey of Monmouth) AND folk traditions (probably). Robin Hood is also a figure of legend, but Disney's cartoon Robin Hood (1973) is a formal, stable text that, again, draws upon existing folk traditions. Chretien, and the Disney company--like Toni Morrison, or Marion Zimmer Bradley, or Angela Carter--are using folk narratives as a springboard to tell their own specific stories. "Little Red Riding Hood" is folklore; Carter's "the Company of Wolves" is not.

Lynne McNeill makes a distinction between elite, popular and folk cultures that I think might be useful here. These categories are not value judgments, but are about distribution contexts and assumed audiences. Elite culture (formal, stable) is aimed at an educationally (and often economically) privileged audience, and is (often) distributed through rarefied, prestigious channels like art-house film studios, museums, and literary fiction publishing; popular culture (formal, stable) is aimed at a mass audience, and is distributed through mass media-commercial channels; folk culture (traditional, variable) is passed person-to-person, through informal channels like word of mouth or social media. All three layers of culture pass stuff between them: the examples you gave--King Arthur and Robin Hood--come from folk culture, but have been used in various elite and popular culture contexts. It goes in the other direction too: think of the "Philosophers Talking" meme, which uses an elite work of art (Raphael's School of Athens) in a folk context (Tumblr reaction image). Likewise, the characters of Batman and the Joker are from pop culture (comics, movies, DCEU), and have been adopted by folk culture (like the song parody "Jingle Bells, Batman smells," or "we live in a society" memes). These categories aren't perfect or all-inclusive, but as broad descriptions of distribution contexts, they're useful.** (Most of us engage with all 3 levels throughout our lives: we read elite lit in school, watch popular movies, and share folk memes with our friends.)

So, like, the very basic process of using a pre-existing character to tell a story can be found in all three layers of culture. King Arthur and his knights come from folk culture, but appear in elite art (Wagner's Parsifal), pop culture (Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon), and, yes, folklore (legends about King Arthur sleeping under a hill). But just because this process can occur in folklore doesn't make every single instance of that process folklore. John Updike's novel Gertrude and Claudius (elite) is based on the literary text Hamlet (elite, but pop in Shakespeare's day): this is literature-to-literature communication, not folklore. Fanfic, likewise, is literature (movie, tv show, etc)-to-literature communication. Now, fanfiction does occupy a rather weird space: it's definitely circulating in a folk community (informal), but, as I said above, the fanfics themselves are formal, stable texts with specific authors. With a gun to my head, in McNeill's schema I'd probably say fanfic is a pop-culture product (stable text being mass distributed through AO3), that, whether out of preference or necessity, is not published commercially.

Fan culture has both formal literary elements (fanfic), but also informal folk elements (fanon, memes, jokes, gossip). Fanfic, just like every other genre of literature, can draw on folk culture (like fanon), and also elite/popular culture (like canon), but a fanfic isn't a "legend" any more than Disney's Robin Hood is a "legend."

Commercial/non-commercial is a common dividing line between elite/pop and folk, but it doesn't account for everything--fanfiction, obviously, but also plenty of folk "culture bearers" were/are professional bards or storytellers. This is why we focus on the stability of the text, individual original authorship, and the distribution context to determine where something belongs.

*Legends are folk narratives that are told as believable: they're presented as taking place in real time and space, involving real or "real" people. This distinguishes them from myths (sacred narratives) and folktales (folk narratives told as fiction). I talk about this more extensively here.

**When talking about pre-modern societies, it can be tricky to separate elite from pop, or pop from folk: when very few people are literate, written texts are by definition elite, even if we know they're retelling folk narratives. Likewise, it's hard to talk about pop culture before mass media. OTOH, one could argue that a lot of church art--all those paintings and stained glass depicting Bible stories for their mostly illiterate parishioners--could be seen as pop culture: stable texts (art) made commercially (by a paid artist) and distributed formally (in a church) from a singular source (artist commissioned by The Church) to a general audience. I also mentioned that Shakespeare was pop culture in his day: anyone with a couple pennies to spare could go see a play, literacy not required. (This is why playwriting was often considered a less highbrow art than, say, epic poetry.) So movement and borrowing between layers is definitely possible, but we need to look at the larger social context to get an accurate reading of what the layers even are.

(On a slightly different note, the Christian Gospels are, in their current form, about as Formal and Official as you get, but the fact that they contradict each other indicates their folk origins--they display the variability of oral narrative. The Gospels codify and freeze several specific oral myths about Jesus into formal, stable texts. Check out Alan Dundes's Holy Writ as Oral Lit for a discussion of this.)

to make sure we have all our bases covered, can you tell me why fanfic isn't folklore?

like... no

or more specifically, i don't know that much about folklore like. on the whole. i would say that i think fanfiction like... is usually not so much a retelling as a new creation, so it doesn't feel like folklore to me. but like... yeah i know some of our followers know more about folklore too if anyone wants to comment

[a-pute11as]

a 'galentines' date? - ingrid engen

word count - 3.2k | summary - how harmless can a 'galentines' date between two friends be??... until they a tipsy confession gets the better of the situation

MDNI 18 + - 18+ themes & soft smut

you had settled into the barcelona life pretty well, you’d been enjoying the good coffee, the multiple different sightseeing opportunities and the new love of football you had found whilst being at your new team. finding little parts of home in every player you met definitely made the transition easier, and it helped that the majority of your teammates spoke pretty good english too. 

ingrid and frido volunteered their support when you first joined, living a few streets away from you, they offered to give you a tour of your new neighbourhood, the best shopping areas and hiking routes to take up your days off. the three of you had became somewhat of a trio.

yet your bond with ingrid had seemingly grown beyond that, suddenly trio dates turned into duo dates, frido conveniently cancelled with a new excuse anytime it was somewhat acceptable. her texts would play out very similar to: ‘it’s my brothers cousins birthday, so i’ve got to facetime them, sorry guys’ which confused you more than you’d like to admit but you went along with it anyways. 

naturally you and ingrid drifted closer, movie nights at her apartment ended in the two of you suspiciously close for people considered to be ‘just friends’ or late night restaurants reservations where you’d put more time into your appearance than you’d ever done before. 

deep down you knew you were developing feelings for her, you couldn’t help yourself when she smiled at you and her eyes lit up or the way her body would move as you watched her effortlessly move along the pitch with such a level of grace. but you couldn’t help but question if she felt the same way towards you. 

~

you sat on the bench at the side of the training pitch, taking a few sips from your water as you caught your breath. you watched as ingrid made her way over to you, sweat glistening off her as her arm brushed across her forehead as she let a deep breath out before joining you on the bench with a smile. the two of you sat in comfortable silence, watching your other teammates finish their training drills, yet you couldn’t help as your eyes would drift in her direction in the most subtle way. 

“have you got any plans for tonight?” ingrid asked, breaking the silence between the two of you. how could you forget? it was valentines day, the one day you were constantly reminded you had a pathetic love life and silently lusted after a girl who considered you as a good friend. 

“nope” you shook your head dramatically before turning to face her, “what about you? is there a secret crush you’re getting with tonight?” you asked in return, wiggling your eyebrows, hoping the answer would be no. 

ingrid’s face flushed red instantly as she choked slightly on the water she had been drinking, “oh no, absolutely not” she replied, laughing it off. silence fell back between the two of you before ingrid spoke up again. “well maybe you and i should go out for dinner tonight i mean, because you know frido has plans so we should do something?”.

“like a galentines date?” you asked, glad you wouldn’t be spending the night alone, but more glad you’d be spending more time with ingrid.

“galentines? what’s that” she questioned, her face scrunching up at the word which sounded ridiculous towards her. 

“it’s like valentines but with your friends so it’s called galentines!” you explained with a shrug, trying to play down the excitement that was building in your stomach. somehow this was so different to your usual last minute restaurant outings. 

“you’re such an idiot sometimes, did you really just make up a word for a friend date” she laughed, shaking her head. 

“shut up, it's actually a real word!” you defended, rolling your eyes at her accusation, “sometimes i forget you’re older than me”

“by 2 years!” she justified, “anyways, i’ve already got a reservation so just make sure you dress pretty” she smiled, standing up and making her way towards the changing rooms as you quickly trailed behind. 

having a post-training physio assessment meant you were leaving the training ground slightly later than expected, most of your teammates filled out, as ingrid made her way towards the door she made the point of stopping in front of you “i’ll pick you up at 7:30, don’t be late” she winked with a smile before turning and heading out of the changing room. 

you smiled at her comment, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks at her wink. 

“what are you guys doing tonight?” cata asked, unwrapping the tape from around her wrists.

“oh uh dinner tonight, like a friend date” you announced, looking up at cata who was now wearing a large smirk across her face, “why is your face like that?”.

“nothing nena, just a very romantic thing to do on valentines day” she shrugged, her cocky smirk still covering her face, “are you going back to hers after, for some chocolate covered strawberries or netflix and chill?” she laughed lightly. 

you instantly picked up the closest thing to you, and threw it in the direction of cata, luckily it was only your partially sweaty sock, “shut up asshole, we are just friends”.

she automatically caught it, stupid goalkeeper hands, “mhmmm, but if you both magically confess your feelings tonight then you owe me”

your mind hadn’t even considered that, yes you’d been spending more and more time with ingrid, and yes some of that time had been somewhat cuddled up on a sofa together, and yes part of you was hoping some part of what cata said was true but she couldn’t be serious, ingrid didn’t see you that way. 

soon enough you were running around your apartment trying to put the finishing touches to your outfit together, yet again you were putting in a lot of effort for a meal with a ‘friend’, the same kind of effort you’d usually use for a first date. opting for the outfit that was tight, yet comfortable, whilst showing off some skin but still leaving things for the imagination had you looking in the mirror at yourself with somewhat of a grin. maybe there was a reason you were going to all these lengths for a simple meal with ingrid. 

there was a knock on your door as you gave yourself one last look over before walking to open the door to your guest. pulling the door open, far too eagerly, your eyes widened at the site in front of you. behind a beautiful bunch of flowers, you were greeted by a jaw dropping woman. she was dressed in a white button up shirt, a black fitted jacket and wide leg leather trousers that hung to her curves perfectly. you instinctively gulped as your eyes travelled her body like it was a map, taking in every single aspect of the norwegian goddess standing at your door.

it was like a switch had flicked inside you. 

“you alright there?” she laughed slightly, tilting her head with a smile as she found herself delighted with your reaction, grateful for the outfit choice frido had helped with. 

you snapped out of the deep gaze the view infront of you had you in, looking up as your cheeks had flushed a deep red from being unashamedly caught of eye-fucking the woman infront of you, “you look incredible” was all you managed to splutter out.

“du er søt” (you are cute) she stated, “can i come in?”. you quickly nodded, moving aside to let her in as you immediately shut the door before your eyes found her again, “i got you these”, she smiled, extending the flowers towards you in her arms. 

“ingrid, these are beautiful, you really didn’t have to” you took the flowers into your arms as you closely inspected them, noticing they included your favourite flowers, remembering a conversation you had with ingrid only a few weeks ago where you had mentioned them. “i’m sorry i didn’t get you anything” you looked up at her guiltily, feeling slightly embarrassed at how unprepared you were.

“being able to take you out is a present enough for me, you look beautiful” she commented, copying your previous actions of letting her eyes wander your figure, you let the silence fill the room until she asked if you were ready to go.

“yes and i’m on time!” you smiled, pleased with yourself for finally being on time, “let me just put these in water” referencing the flowers. 

she smiled at you softly as you were clearly happy with your attempt at time keeping, then making your way to your door to hold it open as the two of you left your apartment. 

as the two of you arrived at the restaurant you quickly realized ingrid had booked one of the most exclusive restaurants in barcelona, one that you often had to pay a hefty deposit but also book months in advance. 

“you have really outdone yourself” you looked around in amazement as you followed closely behind ingrid who was being walked through the restaurant by a man in an incredibly fancy suit. 

arriving at the table, ingrid pulled out your seat allowing you to sit down before tucking it in slightly “you deserve it” she spoke softly, sitting down at the seat opposite you. 

“huh?” you tilted your head, your face gaining a puzzled look at her answer. 

“well you know because… you’re such a good friend” she said unconvincingly, pausing slightly in between her sentences.

you couldn’t quite figure out why her words stung a little. 'good friend'. over the past few months, you had grown so close with ingrid, hoping that some part of her felt the same way you did but maybe you were reading too much into things.

you shook off her words, trying to focus on the menu in front of you when you caught a glimpse of ingrid taking off her jacket, revealing the way her top few buttons were left undone. your eyes fixated on the small bit of cleavage that her shirt revealed, alongside the black lace bra you had caught a glimpse of. that was definitely going to be a distraction. 

the next few hours were filled with incredible conversation, tasty wine and occasionally your eyes drifting downwards mid conversation. your food was long gone and the two of you were still sitting enjoying each other's presence. 

to say the two of you were tipsy and giggly would be an understatement, you couldn’t help but smile at everything the norwegian said, or laugh at her attempts to tell you norwegian jokes that she refused to translate into a language you’d understand.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, something which had become a common occurrence, both of your cheeks slightly sore from the smile you’d been wearing on your face since ingrid asked you out to dinner at training. 

“your lips are so pretty” you quickly said, your eyes soon widening and your cheeks turning red as you realised the tipsy side of you had grown very confident, “ignore that, i’m sorry that was stupid”.

you just watched as a smile appeared on ingrid's face in response, her hand coming up to as her chin rested on it, her eyes switching from a sweet and appearingly innocent ingrid to a more seductive version of herself. she leaned forward ever so slightly causing your breath to hitch as you were reminded of the slight show of skin that had been driving you crazy all night. 

“are you flirting with me?” she questioned, her tongue flicking over her lip before she cocked her head to the side with a seductive grin. 

“w-what no!” you were taken aback by the directness of her words, “it’s not like i’ve fantasized about you or anything, we are just friends”, at this point you were lying straight through your teeth. of course you had fantasized about her, you had been constantly doing it throughout the meal.

“you literally just said i had nice lips, who says that to a friend?” she disputed, her grin turning into a smirk as she reminded you of her words, she waited for your response for a few seconds but every time you opened your mouth, words failed to come out. 

“don’t lie to me elskling, i see how you look at me, or how you purposefully move closer when we are sat next to eat other” as she spoke you felt your cheeks heating up further as your brain tried to think of an excuse for everything she listed, “you’ve literally been staring at my tits since i look my jacket off, you think i don’t notice?”.

“i-i uh um okay so? maybe i do have a few feelings for you and yes maybe i do all those things and maybe i have dreamt about kissing you but is that weird? probably yes but don’t all people have those thoughts about their friends? probably not but-” ingrid quickly cut off your rambling. 

“if you don’t make a move, i happily will” she said abruptly.

“what? are you joking with me” you were taken aback by her statement. 

“i wouldn’t joke about this, you heard what i said” her face was now fully serious, it was still soft and calm, but you could tell she wasn’t joking.

“okay, i—” you cut yourself off. there was no need to overthink this anymore, it was really happening. ingrid had given you an opening, and there was no turning back now, you gave her a small but confirming nod signalling your intention. 

she leaned over the table, her hand finding your jaw as her thumb brushed across your cheek gently. your eyes closed at the touch, instantly relaxing into her as your previous dishelived state disappeared. you felt her presence get closer as her lips ghosted yours, feeling so far yet only being a whisper away. a wave of courage overtook you as you leant forward, closing what was left of the innocent space between the two of you. 

it wasn’t intense, messy or rushed, it was soft, controlled and tentative. you felt yourself unravel against her lips as you further relaxed into her touch. your lips moved in sync as the kiss deepened ever so slightly, your hand reaching up to reach the back of her neck, pulling her into you ever so slightly. it felt like hours, being completely shut off to the world around you as your lips connected with the girl across from you yet it was only seconds before the both of you pulled away, fully aware of the public space that surrounded you. 

when the kiss finally ended, you both pulled back, slightly breathless but eyes still locked.

ingrid let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” her thumb caressing just under your bottom lip as some of her lipstick had transferred to you, before settling back into her seat. 

you couldn’t stop smiling, a mix of relief and happiness spreading through you “no, it wasn’t.”

“you could’ve just told me you have a massive crush on me” ingrid smirked. 

“the same goes for you, engen” you spoke, crossing your arms with a certain ounce of attitude you were yet to show ingrid, causing her to raise her eyebrows slightly at your newfound confidence, the wine still very much in your system. 

“maybe we can go back to yours?” she questioned, her intention clear on her face.

a grin appeared on your face, matching the energy of her seductive smirk, “i think we can make that work”.

with that she stood up and held her hand out to you, pulling you out of your chair and subsequently out of the restaurant and back to her car. the drive consisted of a very touchy ingrid, her hand rested on your thigh, moving up and down as she traced patterns whilst she drove. every red light had her leaning over for her lips to meet yours, savouring every kiss until the car was required to move again. 

unfortunately for the two of you, as you stepped into the elevator, so did one of your neighbors, meaning both of you had to do your best to control yourself in the public setting. ingrid’s hand rested on your back as the usually short elevator ride felt like it was taking years, your breath hitched as you felt her hand wander downwards, resting on the curve of your ass. 

you said a polite goodnight to your neighbour, with an innocent smile, as the two of you rushed down the hall to your apartment. fiddling with your keys it felt near impossible to find the right key to unlock your door, especially with the added pressure of ingrid pressing up against the back of you. you whined, full of general and sexual frustration.

ingrid reached to your hands, grabbing the keys off of you and quickly unlocking the door, before grabbing your hand and pulling you into your apartment. within seconds your back was against the door as ingrid looked down towards you, her eyes hungry with pure desire. 

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to do this” she muttered, her lips finding their way back to yours as her hands gripped at your waist, allowing your hands to wrap around the back of her neck. 

you’d be lying if you said there was a fight for dominance, because there wasn’t, ingrid immediately took control, her tongue slipping into your mouth shortly being followed by her knee finding comfort between your thighs. as if it was second nature she guided your hips, painfully slow, back and forth across her leg as you felt the throbbing between your legs only grow. 

ingrid’s lips broke away from yours, one of her hands now coming up to your jaw as she tilted your head upwards allowing her more space to litter marks across your neck. you didn’t even try to hold back the sounds that were escaping your mouth, pure bliss in the form of moans, whines and asking ingrid for more. 

“i’ve barely started and you’re already so needy” she whispered into your ear, only pushing you further to that point of breaking underneath her to the point where you could only reply with a simple ‘please’. 

clearly happy with your please, she broke apart from your neck, taking your hand and leading you into your bedroom, an erotic grin plastered to her face as she pushed you onto the bed. you were in for a long night.

waking up to someone’s arms around you was unusual, but waking up to ingrid’s arms around you felt like home. her arm lay across your stomach as her head buried into the crook of your neck as her hair sprawled across the pillow the two of you shared. the sun creeped through the window, highlighting every perfect aspect of her face, her freckles glowed like small flecks of gold as the different shades of brown in her hair became more prominent. perfection. 

you reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she moved ever so slightly, pressing her body closer to yours.

how did it take a stupid ‘galetines’ date for you to finally get to this point. 

a/n - i tried proof reading but if i missed anything please let me know, spelling and grammar isn't my strong suit xo

[unacknowledgeable]

I absolutely adore your rise TMNT with yan batfam short clips. Like the whole why pick them over us becomes 10x worse like. Reader is living in the sewers most of the times and basically decided that the turtles were their brothers and not batfam. They rather live in the sewers with a rat as a substitute dad and they prefer it. I can imagine how much of a blow that would be to them! Also the family knows nothing about them till bam here they show up with a different hero/vigilante group. Want to throw my two cents in that the reader likes to use war pain/ let's Micky pain on a mask that helps them blend in with the crew ( also I can imagine they don't like wearing the color black).

Oh yeah the Bat family is coping sooo hard.

 After they, quite rudely, take you back to Gotham they are gonna be on. Your. Ass. About how  “better this is” and “ isn’t this so much nicer then some nasty sewer” but you quite literally are having none of it

Every snide comment about how it’s “so much more open and spacious right?” is met with “I literally had a skate ramp outside my room Tim, fuck off” or “at least i was allowed to leave the sewer whenever i wanted, unlike here”

Like, 80% of the Bat family isn't blood related and even LESS than that have actually been formally adopted, so they can't even try to pull the “but we’re your REAL family” card with you, though Damian will still absolutely try. Of course, you always remind him that he literally stabbed you in the leg when you two first met. Yes you're still pissed about it, HE STABBED YOU! IN THE LEG!!

Jason’s bear hugs? Weak sauce compared to Raphs. Do you even lift bro? Also, don't you like, kill people? Tf are you doing here? Also aren’t you DEAD?!

Dicks puns and jokes? Yeah no, Leo’s funnier, also he’s not a cop, so.

Tim tries to wow you with some techie nonsense? Donnie learned that when he was 7, it’s not that impressive. “Also your formula is all wrong, get your shit together man, aren’t you supposed to be smart?” It wasn’t wrong, but watching him panic for the next half hour was priceless.

 You strictly call Cass by her last name because you already know Casey and Casey Jr. So yeah she’s been demoted to Cain. You'd have been nicer about it but then again she was complicit in your kidnapping soooo, no.

Bruce tries to scold you for being mean? Gee that's big talk coming from a guy who didn’t even know my birthday until about a week ago, you know who didn’t forget my birthday? My rat dad. Bitch.

Not to mention, you won't even talk to Alfred because you know he was the one who sold out where your apartment was. You're fucking pissed that he chose the rest of the family over you. Again.

Despite not particularly liking the color, you exclusively wear black arm and leg wraps to match with your brothers. Otherwise, it is nowhere to be found in any other article of clothing you own. Only the brightest of highlighter colors for you, thanks.

As for a mask, I'm thinking Winter Soldier vibes lol. You have a few of them at your disposal, with varying designs from both Mikey and yourself. Angelo will also doodle on your shield a lot, it’s basically his noncommittal doodle board. You have a full photo album dedicated to your favorites.

The Batfam also tries to gaslight you soooo much too, like, “if they really cared about you then where are they, it’s been weeks now and they haven’t even made an effort to look for you, doesn’t seem like they actually care all that much. But don't worry, we’ll always be here for you!”

“One, don’t you dare take that tone while talking about my family again, and two yeah my brothers are a little dumb but they're MY LITTLE brothers so they get to be. I know for a fact that once they realize I'm actually missing they will rip this place apart and I, for one, cannot wait to watch it happen”

The bats will totally think your bluffing, that is until a fucking sword slices through the literal fabric of reality and you fall backwards through a glowing blue portal before they can even sit down for dinner. They really have to reevaluate what they’re up against after that.

[phosphns]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ highschool!chris makes up to you after an argument 」

warns. established relationship. angst. arguments. mentions of crying. cursing. pet names [baby]. happy ending. fluff. making out. getting caught. no use of y/n.

it has been a stressful week for both of you. being in the last year of highschool means that soon you would have to graduate, and so being under the pressure of the teachers and to choose among the ample variety of colleges.

you and chris aren’t the types to argue frequently. you would bicker about something stupid, leading into some pointless arguments which were always resolved before you go to sleep.

always. you never go to sleep angry at each other; it was like an unwritten rule, something that didn’t need to be clarify. you both knew it, and you respected that.

but yesterday it’d been different. after you both came home from the party your friends in common threw, you got into a big argument — the first one which was actually bad in your five-months old relationship.

it started with you, being a little tipsy, starting to complain about the party and the fact that he made you go. you really weren’t feeling like partying — not after the horrible weeks you have been and the stress over classes — but eventually you gave in, to make him happy. obviously, being under the influence, everything you were thinking came out of your mouth, maybe a little rougher than you wanted it to be.

it escalated quickly: him telling you you needed to let it go and live a little. “being the way you are won’t get you anywhere”. “you couldn’t do this without complaining, could you?”. you telling him he was a heartless asshole, who didn’t understand you and could never do. there had been shouts, tears, clenched fits, hurtful silences.

the night had ended up with you crying yourself to sleep, murmuring low-tone insults at him and feeling guilty about it right after and him sprawled out in the middle of the couch, with his head resting against the headboard and his eyes closed, as to force his mind to erase that night from his memory.

the next morning, nothing happens except for you waking up and finding chris in the living room of his house. his brothers are already gone — you couldn’t manage to confront them about last night. his back is facing you as he ties his shoes, a black backpack hanging from one of his shoulder.

you don’t say anything, watching him from the kitchen table. you really want to do something. greet him, apologize to him, hug him. but you don’t. you keep standing across the room, wrapped in your robe and a plush blanket. your eyes are still tired and puffy from the crying, tangled hair frames your exhausted face.

he feels your eyes burn on his back, but like you, he chooses the silent — either too worn out or too prideful. he takes his keys and before he walks out the door he turns around to take a look at you. you see his blank expression, his eyes heavy with dark circles around them, sign that he didn’t sleep much last night.

just when you were about to say something, he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the room filled with tension and unspoken thoughts.

your day at school wasn’t being different than any of the previous ones, boring and stressful as always, but everyone could tell something was off — more off than usual.

there isn’t that sassy, handsome, always-in-a-sulky-mood boy of yours by your side. there isn’t his hand on your waist and your backpack on his shoulder. there aren’t his flirty comments in your ears and those looks he gives you before leaving for a class. nothing. you never felt so alone.

maybe you are too dependent from him, true, but what can you say? “if y’all had a boyfriend like mine, maybe you would understand. too bad he’s mine,” was your top one excuse and answer to whoever said that to you. not today though.

however, your bad mood is fading into curiosity when you notice a crowd in your maths class — the one you most hate, because truth to be spoken, you and numbers are like sun and moon.

you step into the classroom, which is noisy with murmurs and whispers, only to notice that the crowd is around the desk you always seated in.

everybody turns around to look at you, curious eyes looking you from head to toe, with an hint of jealousy in the girls’ faces. you make your way through the students and your eyes widen.

no way.

on your desk sits an enormous bouquet of peonies — your favorite flowers of all time. the petals, soft and layered, come in shades of red and pink, some blooms fully open while others remain gently closed. a light, sweet scent lingers in the air, and a few dewdrops cling to the petals. the mix of large and small flowers gives the bouquet a natural, effortless beauty.

your eyes threaten to well up with tears as you picked up the little note that was attached to the black string that tied the envelope.

you finish reading the piece of paper with a god-i’m-so-in-love type of smile, pulling the flowers to your chest and ignoring everyone else in the room — none of them matters. you lift your head and look at the door, spotting a familiar figure just outside.

trying not to be rude at people who asked you questions about the situation, you finally walk out the class, leaving people confused and wondering, even if after five minutes they were already back to their business.

when you step out of the room, you’re instantly pulled by a hand on your arm, which you recognize as his. you look up at him, he was smiling and more beautiful than ever. “chris,” you mumble, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. he brushed his hand on your waist, but doesn’t stop there, almost fearing your reaction.

“ ‘m so sorry baby — i should’ve never said those horrible things to ya. you didn’t deserve it and i was being an asshole, you’re perfect the way ya are, y’know it,” he starts rambling about how sorry he was, like he was handing his heart to you.

“chris, it’s okay, i’m sorry too, really much. i said some hurtful things too and i’m so sorry, i love you too so much,” you interrupt him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

you feel him relax under your touch, finally gripping your waist with his hands, pulling you into him. “y’sure? ‘could buy fuckin’ fifteen more of those flowers you like if y’want me to,” he whispered, his lips just inches away from yours as you feel his warm breath on your face.

“mhm… fourteen will be fine, don’t worry,” i tease him, our lips touching slightly as i speak slowly, enjoying the intimate moment not minding the circumstances we are in — school, for example.

he chuckles, before sliding a hand underneath my shirt to grip my waist better and pushing me against the nearest wall. my breath hitching as he slams his lips against mine, inviting my tongue to dance with his in a slow but heated embrace. my hands gripped to his hair while his grab on my waist lowered to squeeze my ass, fortunately covered by the near locket.

the kiss is overwhelming, full of emotions and love. it makes up for yesterday’s argument and the ones that still had to come, but now with the assurance of your boyfriend.

when you finally pull out, it’s because you’re feeling observed — your P.E. teacher, who was also chris’ coach, is looking at you half disgusted and half proud of his player.

“ugh.. sturniolo, when you’re done, would you do us the honor of joining the team for goodbyes?” he asks, “if you aren’t too busy, obviously,” he adds sarcastically.

chris is not even the slightest bit embarrassed as he pulls away annoyed, keeping his arm wrapped around your shoulder. he winks at you, “nah, i think i’m too busy today, coach,” he replied shrugging, turning both you and him around and walking you out of the school’s walls, ignoring his coach’s curses.

you look up at him, once outside, and smile. “so, where are we going?” you ask him, to which he responds with,“to make out in my car for at least ten minutes, first of all.”

yaps. yaalll i loved this he’s so cute. also it’s a special both for valentine’s day and my birthday which was yesterday! hope you enjoyed <3

tags 💌 @ultrviolenxe ៹ @courta13 ៹ @chriss-slutt ៹ @chrissbows .

wc. 1,3k

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Filled (Dean Winchester x female reader)

Dean and you are out of condoms, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to give in to temptation.

Read it on AO3

My 2024 Kinktober series

Rated E. 1.3k words. Unprotected sex. Breeding kink. Pies (of the cream variety)

It’s damn stupid and you know you shouldn’t do it, at least that’s what your brain is telling you, but your brain isn’t in the driver’s seat right now. How could it be, after Dean has made you come not once, not twice, but thrice with his fingers and mouth.

You’re about ready to pass on to the great hereafter, but still somehow, inexplicably, you have the overwhelming need to feel Dean inside you. You agreed that you wouldn’t, agreed that you would simply get each other off, but you don’t think you’ll last another five seconds without outright begging him to fuck you.

It’s this damn case, that has you miles and miles away from the next town. You packed everything, food, clothes, goddamn books that Dean hasn’t taken a single peak at, but not condoms, because you thought you’d be too busy to need them. Dean disagreed from the get-go, but you thought the small stash he always carries in his wallet would be enough.

You’re on day five, solved the case on day two and ran out of condoms on day three. It’s another day until you’re set to be picked up by Sam, and you’ve been getting each other off for almost all of that time since, without Dean entering you with anything but his fingers and tongue. But yeah, you’re not sure how much longer you have the self-control for that to be enough.

“You can just pull out,” you mutter against Dean’s cheek, while his hard cock is pressed against the outside of your thigh and you run your hand over him. Dean’s eyes are closed, and he’s frowning a little, looking pretty as a picture.

“Too risky. Can’t believe I paid more attention in sex ed than you did,” he says, voice a little cracked and you grin, snuggle closer to him.

“Please, Dean, I want to feel you,” you say, and he groans.

“Darlin’,” he says, tone a little warning but it’s tough to be authoritative with him leaking against your thigh.

“Come on, a girl can’t live on come alone,” you say, voice slightly petulant, referring to the egregious amount of blowjobs you’ve given him in the last 48 hours. Dean huffs, then opens his eyes, looking into yours only a few inches from him.

“Fuck it,” he says and rolls you over on your back, gets on top of you, making you squeak. He kisses you, hard and needy, and then he’s pushing your legs apart. He presses against you, your thighs tensing from how sensitive you are, and when he notices he goes slower.

That means you get to watch his face, get to see every detail of his expression as he enters you bare for the first time.

“Holy shit,” he says and then looks down at where your bodies are meeting. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You want to say something about how cussing like that will send him to hell, again, but you can’t, because he’s right. It’s different and it’s better and it’s everything you’ve been dreaming of. You raise your head so that your forehead meets his as you whimper, the sheer feeling of his skin directly against your most sensitive parts overwhelming.

You look at Dean’s lips as he slowly continues pushing into you, then pulls out almost all the way again, before pushing back in until you can feel his pelvis pressed against you. You lift one leg up high and Dean hooks it against his side, allowing him to go deeper.

“Oh God, you feel so amazing,” you stutter, and Dean barely manages to nod.

“Don’t know how long I can keep this up,” he says, voice cracking. “You feel too damn good, gonna come in no time.” He picks up his pace a little, and you sling your free leg around him instead of answering, pull him closer.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he says, voice warning, and you know he’s not far off.

“Come inside me, Dean,” you whisper, and his eyes go wide for a second. “Don’t care, I just want to feel you, feel your come inside me.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans, and instead of pulling away, he goes faster, making your head drop back and moan his name.

“Want me to fill you up, is that it?” he asks, and his words send such an intense flash of arousal through you that you clench down on him. Dean groans, but he isn’t done with whatever magical dirty talk he has for you. “You want me to get you nice and knocked up?”

You don’t, not really, but the way he is saying it, the risk and the primality of it make you desperately pull at him.

“Yes,” you huff, moving your hips to meet Dean’s movements, your leg still keeping him close to you. “Yes, oh God, yes, Dean!”

It’s not clear if he expected what he’s saying to have that kind of effect on you, but he looks damn happy with the results. His hips move faster, and with one hand he cups your face, steadying you so that you can’t turn away from him.

“You’d look so beautiful with my babies inside you,” he almost groans and you wrap your arm around his neck, pull him close.

“Fuck, Dean, just—don’t… stop!” is all you can say before you are coming, your lower body bucking up, high pitched whines leaving you.

Dean keeps thrusting into you, uncoordinated now and then he stills, pressing his face against yours as he pumps his come into you. You can actually feel the spread of warmth and it’s the goddamn nicest thing in the world.

Dean’s head falls forward, and he rests on your shoulder, grinding into you a few more times to ride out his high, and it makes his spendings seep out of you, and that’s a sensation you’re not likely to forget anytime soon. He gives one more groan, and then both of you are quiet. You absent-mindedly run your fingers through the short hair at the back of his head.

After a few seconds, Dean needs to pull out and roll off you and you gasp as you feel more of what he left you with leaks out of you. It makes Dean look down at you, and he raises his eyebrows.

He pushes himself up a little, towards you again. Then, for the grand finale, he takes his still hard cock in his hand, crowds in close to you and runs its head against your entrance to collect what has run out of you. Then he pushes back into you again. You whimper at the feeling, the sensitivity, but also at the warmth.

“Oh fuck,” you whine.

“That… is very hot,” he says, and looks back up at your face when you chuckle.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice a little broken. “How hot is it going to be when we have to ask Sam to get me the morning-after pill before he comes here tomorrow?” Dean chuckles, drops his head down. He pulls out of you again, the emptiness disappointing, but then he opens his arm for you to move in, lay your head against his chest.

“I’m sure Sammy will love that,” he says, and you grin. Dean’s hand lands on your shoulder, and he caresses it for a while, before turning his head towards you, his mouth close to your ear.

“Or we risk it?” he whispers to you. “Could be fun.”

You grab for a nearby pillow and swing at his face. Dean raises his hand in time but it makes him laugh.

“You are a damn fool, Dean Winchester,” you say and Dean pulls you close, pins your arms and throws a leg over you.

“Just saying,” he says as you snuggle against him. “I meant what I said. You would look hot pregnant.”

[illubean]

Walk Him Like a Dog!

In which Nerdjo is your roommate (eventually boyfriend) who will do anything for you <3

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: Oneshot, Fem!Reader, can u tell I'm a sucker for College!AU

ignore the unserious ass images idk what to use for this 😭

Warnings: descriptions of reader's appearance (stuff like smooth skin or long lashes, nothing too specific), NSFW Reader discretion is advised (it’s probably skippable)

Gojo doesn't know how he's going to survive having you as a roommate.

He doesn't do all that well when it comes to the social scene. Sure, he's nice and accidentally charismatic, but he's only found few people who will listen to him talk about his hobbies without judgement. That being said though doesn't mean he's anti-social. Quite the opposite actually.

When Gojo posted about the vacancy in his apartment, it was because his previous roommate and best friend transferred schools, leaving him all alone in the space. The snowy haired male could easily afford to live on his own, but he couldn't stand to be completely by himself. Initially, he just expected some random guy would take the room, someone who he could be at least somewhat friends with (because lets be real, he can never and will never replace his moody bestie).

What he didn't expect, though, was a pretty thing like you messaging him to ask about the room. When you met at the campus cafe to chat before you made the final decision to move in, his jaw dropped as you settled in the seat across from him. It was like a scene out of a cheesy romance movie, or even that part in Lego Batman where he sees Barbara for the first time. Your hairstyle suited you perfectly, long lashes batting as he watched how your perfectly glossed lips moved when you spoke. He was so entranced he almost didn't catch what you said.

"Hey! Thanks for meeting up with me. I seriously need to move ASAP, I'm glad I saw your post before anyone else asked about it!"

"Uhm.......wow you're so...I mean yeah, how lucky!"

The poor guy practically had heart eyes while everything around you turned to glitter, emphasizing your features. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Gojo focused on you. It wasn't the first time he's seen you around. Often times you'd pass him on the way to class or around the dining hall, always with a friend. He always knew you were gorgeous but never bothered to approach you, concluding that you were way out of his league. And you were so much prettier up close.

You pretended not to notice his very obvious gawking. If it were any other man, you would've probably cussed him out and walked away by now. But it wasn't a secret that Gojo was cute; he also seemed pretty sweet in comparison to the douchey guys who approached you most of the time. You spent 15-20 minutes chatting with him before you had to run to your next class. He was happy things went well and you decided to take him up on his offer, arranging to move all of your stuff into his apartment the upcoming weekend.

About a month or so after you settled into your new living arrangement, Gojo was able to see sides of you no one but your closest friends know about. He got to learn more about your hobbies and little habits, like how on occasion you partake in what you call "floor time". He even got to watch how you stumbled out of your room and padded your way to the kitchen in the morning, sporting an atrocious bedhead and your cartoon pj pants. Even with eye crusties and sleep lines on your face, he still thought you were adorable.

The more time that passed by, Gojo fell harder and harder for you. He never planned to tell you about his feelings though; just seeing you go about your life in the shared space and having you around was enough. He couldn't risk the good thing he had going over a silly not so little crush.

Aside from being in love with you, living together and having you as a roommate was very pleasant. You made sure to keep things clean and never shied away from spending quality roommate time with Gojo. You also made it so that Gojo himself took better care of the space and his well being. All just by being there.

You guys grew to become pretty close friends. He would walk you to your classes whenever he had the chance, you would sit with him while he studies or plays his games and the two of you even had weekly movie and or TV show binge nights. Gojo always chose some nerdy superhero or fantasy movie with the occasional anime series, but you never really minded. During his free time, your tall companion rarely left the apartment. And if he did, it was usually just to accompany you. And you quickly realized that he rarely ever said no to you. Any time you asked him to drive you to the grocery store, hold your bag while you were out or even just simple things like helping you open a pickle jar he always did so with enthusiasm. He has never once complained about any of the tasks you ask of him, even if it was something ridiculous like rearranging the layout of your room ten times just to put everything back to the way it was before. He was always happy to help. After realizing how good he treats you, you quickly started falling for the man yourself. He really was a sweet boy, ever so helpful and kind and not to mention the cutest thing ever. You never missed the way his cheeks would dust a rosy shade whenever you were too close, or how he fidgets with his clothes when he’s feeling nervous. Even the light and passion in his eyes whenever he would geek out about the marvel franchise or whatever video game he was currently into was adorable. It was obvious there was mutual attraction between the two of you, but in order to have some fun you decided to see how far you could push his limits before everything would come out into the open.

You started by asking him for his opinion on small things, like what color shirt he liked better on you or if you should wear blue or black jeans. Then from there, it went to asking him about things on your computer (which you may or may not already know how to do). This would force him to either lean next to or above you while you sat in your desk chair, watching your screen and taking your mouse from you to fix whatever needed fixing. Then, you started asking for more risqué things, like helping you zip up the back of a dress or bringing you a towel that you so coincidentally forgot. You were always sure to thank him genuinely, which escalated from words, to hugs then to pecks on the cheek.

Every time you physically expressed your gratitude, Gojo would freeze up momentarily before offering a quiet “no problem” and retreating to whatever it was he was doing before. On one of your TV nights, you decided to amp things up a bit. Typically, the two of you sat a normal distance away from each other, but as the movie went on you would scootch closer and closer to him. The TV was currently playing whichever part of the Starwars trilogy; Gojo’s pick of course.

“Hey Toru, can you do me a favor?”

He glanced over at you, momentarily turning his attention away from the film to answer you with a smile.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I’m kind of cold. Can we cuddle?”

His body stiffened as he turned a complete 90 degrees to face you, shoulders tense while he stammered out his response.

“ARE YOU SURE!? I mean- ahem…we can…if you want.”

You giggled at his response before sliding even closer to him, gently pushing him to lay against the armrest of the couch and settling atop him. You could hear his heartbeat quicken while his hands froze in the air for a moment, before awkwardly resting against your back.

“Why’re you so tense? I don’t bite.”

“Right.”

He let out a shaky breath before trying to relax into the couch, lanky limbs entangled with your own. Without tearing your eyes away from the TV screen, you readjusted yourself as well as Gojo, leading his arms to rest around your waist instead of awkwardly against your shoulder blades. You tucked your own arms around and underneath his midsection while you laid comfortably against his broad chest. For someone who didn’t go outside much, he was well built. You weren’t too interested in the movie choice for tonight, but pretended to be for Gojo’s sake. Allas, your attempts were futile as halfway through you ended up falling asleep, lulled by the soft badump badump badump of his hearbeat.

(nsfw below)

After that night, Gojo avoided you like the plague. You were beginning to worry that you may have pushed his boundaries too far. Maybe you read him wrong and he wasn’t interested in you the way you thought. But in reality, that couldn’t be any farther from the case. After getting to cuddle with who Gojo swears is the most beautiful woman on the planet, he couldn’t think about anything else. You were on his mind constantly, often invading his dreams at night and he was too embarrassed to face you. Especially when those dreams became…not so wholesome. He felt bad about thinking of you in this way, he really did. But he just couldn’t help himself. Especially when the weather was shifting and getting warmer. Now, you often opted to sleep in tiny tank tops or shorts, 99% of the time without a bra. This left little to the imagination.

In the late hours of the night, Satoru would pathetically stroke his cock to the thought of you; his pretty little roommate sleeping in the next room. A small part of him thinks you know what you do to him, but the greater portion chalks it all up to you just being friendly, and he was just some disgusting pervert. Satoru whimpers, feeling unimaginably guilty but he just can’t stop. Every night since you watched Starwars together, he would retreat to his room and rub his sad, weeping dick raw to the thought of you. Tonight, his fantasies were running particularly wild. He imagined it were your hand working him instead of his own, imagining the way you would plant kisses against him and tell him how good he’s doing. With a needy whine, Satoru erupted all over his hand and lower abdomen, panting as he leaned against the headboard of his bed.

His body relaxed while he came down from his high, only to tense up again at the sound of his door being slammed open.

“Toru, are you okay!? I heard a-“

You stopped in your tracks as the both of you stared at each other, wide eyed. Satoru was frozen in horror as your eyes trailed down from his own, settling on the pretty length between his legs as it began to stiffen back up again. The initial shock on your face wore off and turned into a sly smirk, causing Satoru to stutter out some lame excuse while he felt heat creep up his neck and engulf his face.

“I’m sorry- it’s not what it looks like!”

Ignoring his embarrassed rambling, you made your way into the room and settled on the bed next to him. Your thigh was pressed flush against his own as you leaned closer to his ear, hand gently grasping his shaft. You felt it twitch beneath your touch, smiling while you whisper into his ear.

“Aww, is this why you’ve been so awkward around me? Y’know, all you had to do was ask.”

Satoru shivered, feeling the way your breath fanned against his face, lips moving to press fluttering kisses against his neck. Pathetic mewls spilled from his lips, feeling jolts of pleasure course through his body at the feeling of your soft hand slowly caressing the angry, pink tip of his cock.

Was this really happening?

His half lidded eyes watched your hand leisurely move up and down as his mind turned to mush. He was broken out of his trance by the feeling of your other hand coming up to grip the back of his neck, turning him to face you before swallowing every noise that came from him. Your lips felt so good against his, so soft.

This was better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. From the minute you barged into his room, Satoru was completely engulfed in you. Engulfed in your presence, your stare, and now your touch. The sweet scent of your body wash was comforting as he listened to himself moan against your lips. Taking advantage of this, you pushed your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his own. Everything felt hot. Everything from the burning of his ears, to the warmth where your skin touched his, and now, the fire within his abdomen running its course to his second orgasm of the night. Satoru’s hips bucked up into your gentle fist, stuttering as ropes of white hot cum shot from his shaft. This time around, it landed higher onto his tummy than it did before, a broken and muffled “mnffhh” buzzing against your lips. Pulling away from the kiss, you didn’t miss how his lips seemed to chase yours nor the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.

Letting go of his softening length, your finger swiped up some of the cooling cum off of his sticky tip and brought it to your lips for a taste. Satoru watched you with his ocean colored eyes, glazed over with more than just lust. Your other hand caressed soothing circles at the nape of his neck, fingers threaded through his undercut.

“Toru baby, can you do another favor for me?”

Feeling weak in his post nut haze, all he can muster is a small nod as his swollen lips quivered.

“Only let me see you like this. No one else.”

The next morning, Gojo was almost convinced everything that happened was all a dream. He woke up alone in his bed, the only proof that you could’ve been there was that he was cleaned up and tucked under his covers. Groggily, he swung his legs over the side of his way and dragged himself to the kitchen. The smell of miso soup wafted towards him and he saw you stood in front of the stove.

“G’morning Toru,” you greeted softly, smiling over your shoulder. “Breakfast should be done soon. Come, taste this for me.”

The male blinked a couple of times, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. How could you be so normal right now? Ignoring his inner thoughts, he’s quick to obey you as you spoon fed him some of the soup.

‘S’good,” he says, yawning and making his way to sit at the table. If you were going to play it cool and pretend things didn’t happen last night, then so would he.

After breakfast the two of you went about your days like you normally would. No matter how much Gojo told himself he was fine with not talking about last night, it was eating him alive as time passed by. It wasn’t until the two of you were getting ready for bed that his resolve snapped. He slowly peeked his head into your room, spotting you doing your skincare routine at your vanity.

“You need something?” you asked, offhandedly, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror.

“About last night…did that….mean anything to you?”

His cheeks flushed as he recalled the events from before. He cursed his body for getting worked up again. He was trying to have a serious conversation with you, damn it!

Finishing up the application of your moisturizer, you stood from in front of your vanity to make your way to the door and pull Satoru inside.

“Of course it did,” you respond, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. “I’m just waiting on you, big guy.”

Satoru practically melted upon the feeling of your lips against his again, expression switching from worried to a lovestruck, dopey smile. It wasn’t for a few moments did the actually process what you said last.

Waiting on me? For what?

You watched as the gears turned in that pretty head of his, his puzzled face quickly lighting up in realization as if a lightbulb were turned on above him.

“Oh, right! Can I please be your boyfriend!?”

You laughed at his excitement, giving him the answer he wanted to hear for so long. You could almost imagine a pair of fluffy ears perking up from the top of his head and a tail wagging happily behind him. You pressed one last kiss against his lips before pushing him out your room door.

“See you tomorrow, boyfriend.”

As time passed, Satoru started to go out more and more, never once leaving your side. This resulted in him being around your friends as well, which caused him to gain more attention and popularity. Your group wasn’t the most stereotypical popular kids; most just being known from sports or student organizations. Even though you weren’t that known, now that Satoru was part of the rather large friend group, other people began to notice him.

Especially other girls.

It wasn’t a secret that the two of you dating, but you also didn’t make it a point to go around and announce it twenty-four seven either. Anyone with a brain and eyes would be able to tell you were together though, especially with the way Satoru always seemed to be attached to your hip and looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That didn’t stop certain girls though.

One of them was feeling particularly ballsy today, approaching where he sat in the dining hall while waiting for you to come back from the bathroom. To anyone else, she was obviously flirting with him. But poor, little, no-experience-with-other-girls Satoru didn’t pick up on it. He held conversation with her until you came back, an eyebrow raised and scowl on your face.

“Oh, hey baby! This is (random name) she’s a transfer student,” he said, beaming as if nothing were wrong. Turning to the other girl, he said “This is my amazing, beautiful girlfriend who I love so much! Maybe the two of you can be friends.”

The girl blinked a couple of times before stiffening under your intense glare. She stammered out some cheap excuse before leaving, which Satoru bought with no questions. The rest of lunch went on normal save for the bitterness you were feeling. You couldn’t even be that mad at your clueless boyfriend; it’s not his fault he was so kind and couldn’t pick up on social ques! He noticed your unusual quietness, asking you if you were alright. You dismissed him, saying you were just tired and you were going to head back to the apartment while he attended his next class.

When Satoru got home, he was expecting you to greet him like you do every time, but the only thing he was greeted by was silence. Around this time you’d usually be on the couch watching your favorite show or maybe doing work on the floor next to the coffee table. Confused for a moment, he concluded that maybe you were sleeping. You did say you were tired, right? You were probably just napping. He quietly crept towards your room and pushed the door open to see you wrapped up in your blankets. Your phone was propped up in front of you playing whatever random youtube video you found after doomscrolling for who knows how long. Happy to see you, your white haired boyfriend was quick to jump into bed next to you and hold your blanket-cocooned body close to him.

“Hi baby!”

“Hi, Satoru,” you grumbled, not doing as much as turning to look at him.

Wait.

‘SATORU’!?

After hearing what you called him, the man screams. Genuinely screams. Who are you and what did you do to his loving, doting girlfriend!? He wasted no time in flipping you over on to your back, hovering above you and looking into your eyes. You were caged beneath him, still sulking and pouting about what happened at lunch today.

“SATORU!!?!?!? What did I ever do to my beautiful, wonderful princess with a disorder to be called by such a name!?”

“That stupid girl from earlier was totally hitting on you!” you whined.

You swear his head could’ve popped like a balloon right now and immediately grown back with how quickly his expression shifted from concerned, to shocked then appalled.

“Oh hell no! How dare she hit on me when I have my pookie right here!? I will literally get your face tattooed on my chest so if a woman ever dare to approach me I’d rip my shirt open like superman to show it off then start barking! ‘Stay away, I’m taken!!!!!’”

“…then they would get to see your chest.”

“Okay nevermind, maybe that’s not a good idea.”

You laughed at him before wiggling your arms out of the blanket cocoon to hug him. How could you stay mad when he was so cute? A wide smile stretched across Satoru’s face as he stopped supporting his own body weight, flopping on top of you and returning your embrace.

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“M’not mad anymore. I might have to get you a collar though, make sure everyone knows you’re mine,” you joked.

Little did you know that Satoru was now plotting something.

It’s been a while since that girl approached Satoru, never returning and thus causing you to forget all about it. Your boyfriend stayed true to his word, screaming and barking at whatever girl tried to hit on him after that like a lunatic. You really couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing at this point. Unfortunately for you, it was a friday and you had class while Satoru was off for the week. He walked with you to your first class of the day like he always does then returned home to do whatever it is he spends his time on while you’re away.

Typically, he would laze around the apartment, yelling at people online while playing first person shooters or rewatching every single Batman movie for the billionth time. But today, he had something else in mind. Today happened to be your 3-monthaversary. Very middle school esque, but Satoru couldn’t help it. You were his first everything and the only girl on his mind. He spent the day decorating his room, scattering rose petals down the hall and setting his LED lights to red, aka the freaky color.

“Toru, I’m home-“ you stopped in your tracks after walking through the door. All the lights in the house were off, save for the little battery operated tea candles leading to your boyfriend’s room. You were confused, but followed the candles and rose petals nonetheless. Upon entering his room, you saw heart shaped balloons floating about the space, more rose petals on his bed with your Toru lying propped up on his side in the middle of it all. He’s shirtless with a rose between his teeth and a gift basket in front of him. You couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh at the sight.

“You dork, what’s this all about?”

"Today marks three months of us being together. Now come get your present!"

You laughed again, this time amused by his enthusiasm, and sat in front of him on the bed. There were so many different things in the gift basket he so lovingly put together for you. There were snacks, refills of your favorite makeup and skincare products, your favorite scented candle and a cute little plushy. In between all those things was a long, short box that you couldn't even begin to guess what was in it.

You glanced up at your boyfriend who was buzzing with excitement before opening it. Upon removing the lid, inside was a baby blue collar with a heart shaped tag on it. You raised an eyebrow in confusion before flipping the tag over to read what it said.

'If lost please return to Y/n L/n'

Your gaze switched between the collar and your boyfriend a couple times before putting two and two together.

“Well…that one’s kind of for me….but it’s still your gift!”

“C’mere then! Let me put it on you,” you beckoned him closer with a smirk.

Satoru wastes no time in leaning closer to you, head tilted up slightly so you can wrap the collar around his neck and buckle it at the front. You sat back to admire the sight of it around his neck, the blue leather matching the very shade of his eyes. You caressed his hair and moved your hand down to his cheek, cooing while he leaned into your touch. After a while of this, your hand moves down to his new collar, giving it a gentle tug towards yourself which elicits a whimper from the male before you. Amused by this, you pressed your lips against his own, keeping your grip around the leather adorning his pretty neck.

Satoru continued to whine and moan into your lips, always being this vocal whenever he’s feeling hot and bothered. You pulled away from him, looking into his half lidded, pleading eyes.

“Oh, my sweet boy. I can’t believe you’d actually wear this for me.”

“Mmmh, I’d do anything for you,” he responds, trying desperately to press his lips back against your own, only to be stopped by the force of your grip around his collar. You chuckled at his needy yelp, lying down on the bed and gently ushering him on top of you. His hands roamed your body while you pulled him back into a kiss, pawing at your tummy, chest or whatever bare skin he could get his hands on. Growing even more needy by the second, Satoru decided that wasn’t enough and started to tug all of your clothes off. You let the white haired man do his thing before helping him shimmy his own remaining clothes off, leaving the both of your bare bodies pressed against each other. Satoru rested his body weight atop of you, slowly rutting his hips against your thigh, silently begging you for what he should do next. His head was resting against your chest, glossy blue orbs looking up at you through his long lashes that batted at you every time he blinked.

Grabbing him by his collar again, this time with both hands, you yanked him back up to be eye level with you once more. The man before you yelped in surprise, cock twitching against you at your newfound roughness.

“Go on, baby. Fuck me like you mean it.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as he wasted no time into slipping inside of you. He shivered at the feeling of your slick walls engulfing him, shutting his eyes tight as he focused on building a rhythm. His mouth fell open into an ‘o’ shape, thrusting himself into you slow and soft. Unsatisfied with this, you decided you had to bring your boyfriend back down to earth. Satoru’s eyes snapped open and he was awoken from his daze by the sharp sound of a ‘slap!’ and the stinging sensation in his left cheek. He let out a loud moan and his hips bucked up into you before stilling completely, trying his hardest not to cum then and there.

“Eyes on me, pretty boy.”

Shifting his gaze back up to you and seeing that pretty smirk you always wore, he couldn’t help himself for much longer. Wrapping his arms around your waist he quickly began plowing himself into your dripping cunt, doing nothing to contain the breathy ‘aah’s and ‘ohh’s slipping past his kiss bitten lips. He did as he was told, holding eye contact with you as long as he could. Every time his gaze began to slip away or fade out of focus, he was always brought back by the warm buzz each time your palm struck him. Despite your rough behavior, you continued to let out loud moans of your own as a way to let your darling boyfriend know he was doing a good job.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the rhythmic squeaking of his bed frame and the sticky ‘plap! plap! plap!’ of his hips meeting yours. Satoru’s body was flushed a pretty shade of pink, skin coated in a sheen of sweat that clung to your own. A mischievous grin spread across your face, letting out an amused laugh when you pinched one of his pert nipples and his hips began to stutter.

“Mmmnh! Noooo, do that and I’ll cum!”

Ignoring his plea you continued your ministrations, legs locking around his hips and trapping him against you. His moans began to grow both in volume and pitch, signaling that he won’t last much longer.

“Cum with me! Fill me up, Toru!”

His pelvis snapped against you one last time, pressing his cock so deep inside you he might puncture a lung. Hot, sticky spurts of seed spilled into you as his back arched into you, head leaning back as far as your grip on his new collar allowed it to. Your legs tightened around him as well, keeping him pressed flushed against you as your weepy pussy gushed around him. Your juices mixed with his load, slowly dripping out from around the base of Satoru’s cock, leaving a creamy mess between your legs.

You let go of his collar and brought both hands up to cup his cheeks, whispering soft praises as you peppered kisses around his face.

“You did so well. My Toru always knows how to please.”

____________________________________________________________________________

taglist :) @sorenflyinn @ilovesugurugeto69 @iheartpotatoes @shutuppeter

it wasn't working for mobile sooo hopefully switching to my computer worked

[harrys-only-angel333]

HEHE I LOVE ANSWERING QUESTIONS ABT MY DR LEMME DO THIS NOWWW

1. My first DR was a Harry Potter DR (like most ppl’s was I think) and currently my main DR is my One Direction DR. I made this switch cuz I feel way more connected to my 1D DR than I ever felt towards my Hogwarts DR. It’s funny cuz I had been shifting to Hogwarts for over a year before I made the switch and within a month, I was way more connected to my 1D one so I’m glad I made the switch

2. As in my DR self name? My full name in my DR is Chloe Lilian Adams. That’s my name cuz my first and middle names are the same in both my CR and DR, but I HATE my CR last name so I changed it. I love Wednesday Addams (grew up watching the films) so I think that’s where I got the last name from

3. The house I originally live in is the same as my CR house (but w some slight changes so I’ll know if I’m in my DR or not) but I end up moving into this huge house w my bandmates around like 2012/13. I don’t have any pics of it w me rn but my favourite room in it is this tiny room dedicated for reading that I designed myself. It’s like this little reading nook and it’s so cute

4. There’s probably a lot of edits of me in my DR but idk how to describe them lmfao. The fandom is CRAZY in my DR (crazy in a good way) but they’re all rlly nice. If you have ANY idea what the 1D fandom is like (especially in their prime) …that’s what I have to deal w in my DR. I love them tho

5. My outfit of the day would probs be just some jeans, a t-shirt (that probs belongs to my bf) and a hoodie (that also probs belongs to my bf). Just cuz it’s comfy. It’s what I wear here too sooooo it’s easier to connect w my DR self

6. In my free time I hang out w my bandmates and we just visit random areas. It depends where we are. Like for example, if we’re in London, we’d mess around in the streets and visit the monuments or whatever

7. I don’t rlly know abt niche, but I only have one DR now (I’m permashifting to it) and it’s obvs my 1D one so can I just say that???

8. There are soooo many ways I could describe my DR but if it had to be one it’d be ‘one dream, one band, one direction’ CUZ that’s kinda their like ‘motto’ ig so I’ll go w that one. Also cuz I’m not creative at all and I can’t think rn haha

9. I script on notion, and again, I deleted all my other DR scripts because I hyperfix on one DR (and yk what that one is by now ig). My fave script is my main DR one cuz I’ve spent the most time on it and it looks rlly nice :)

10. My friend group is my bandmates, so that’s easy. The group was made cuz we were put together on the X Factor cuz some judges thought we’d be good together lmfao

11. My family is the same in both my CR and my DR so I don’t think I rlly need to say anything here. I tried to keep my DR as close to my CR as possible so I can connect w it easily - and also so it’s realistic for me ig

12. My fave scenario (I didn’t script it, it’s crucial to happen for my DR to have its point) is the one where I meet my bandmates/bf cuz that leads to all the fun stuff I’m excited to experience in my DR (like touring and performing). I’m also rlly excited to do the San Siro concert cuz that was our ‘we made it’ moment imo and I can’t wait to experience it. Like everytime I watch it I’m like ‘holy shit I’m gonna be up there’

13. Justin Bieber cuz that fucker was rlly creepy w me at one point and I’m like ‘ummmm hell nah’

14. I have millions of followers in my DR. I’m mostly active on Twitter and Tumblr. On Twitter I post abt stuff to do w my career and tours, w the occasional unprofessional tweet. My Tumblr is the complete opposite. It’s VERY unprofessional (but not in a bad way) I just interact w my fans and be my real self and it’s rlly fun

ᓚᘏᗢ﹐𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. ⁞ ˎˊ˗

shifting ask game reblog for asks ↻ ‧₊˚.

i’m bored so here’s another ask game, i’ll try to ask to everyone who reblogs, as long as tumblr isn't too glitchy, but feel free to send asks to others

— 💡 : what was your first dr and what is currently your main dr? How and why have you made this switch?

— 🏷 : what is your name for your dr and why is that your name?

— 👜 : what’s your house look like? Do you have any roommates or people who live with you? What’s your favorite aspect of your house and why?

— 🎞 : what edits of you would there be in your dr? what is your fandom like?

— 🩰 : what is your OOTD (outfit of the day) for a dr and why?

— 🏛️ : what do you do in your free time? Who are you with? Where do you go?

— 🗝 : what is your most niche dr and why did you make it?

— 📜 : summarize your dr in a sentence

— 🧳 : what is your favorite way to script and share your favorite dr script

— ♟ : who’s in your friend group and how did you make this friend group?

— 🕰 : what’s your family like? Who’s your favorite person and what are your relationships with your different members?

— 🎻 : what is a fun scenario you have scripted and you excited for? (be detailed! :)

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[vervainandspritz]

LOVE YOU WITH MY EYES CLOSED

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Part one Part two Part three

Summary: At a young age Y/N was given away for marriage, years later the dust began to settle and her life caught a rhythm she stopped fighting. Is Tommy, the man she once knew too well, ready to play along and let her go once again?

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: depression, heartache, mental and physical abuse

A/N: Slow introduction, next chapter will pick up on pace. Enjoy

Coming back to Birmingham ignited more mixed feelings than Y/N expected it ever would. Pushing through the difficult changes back in the day caused her to stomach so much pain and.. distress at the inability to make her own choices. She thought there was nothing in her to cause fear anymore.

A weird kind of fear it was, this time. Looking out the window as the train plummeted through the fields, shaking and groaning under the weight of people all heading to the city she couldn't shake off. Four years passed so quickly, in a pace she didn't understand when she looked back at the first months of constant struggle she endured. Leaving everything behind. Becoming nothing more than a tool to life of.. prosperity for her family.

She fought it for so long, back then. Much to her father's misunderstanding, her unbreakable spirit made everything so much more difficult.

Yet eventually everything must come to an end though, in a reality where her value was tightly connected with how pretty she was, and how aesthetically pleasing she looked, hanging on the arm of a man she barely knew.

It was much easier to ignore from the distance, but the closer she got to Birmingham, more wounds began reopening, hurting and itching despite her neutral expression and unmoving figure.

One of his hands rested on her thigh, the other one holding a newspaper. The lack of communication was nothing short of normal between them. After all, when nobody was around, they didn't have to pretend as much. Nickolas Winterbourne, a man coming from a life where nothing ever ran out, where pantries were never empty and clothes never dirty. He existed in a controlled environment snuggly clothed in money at every corner, shielding him from any difficulties life planned to throw his way - unaffected by the simple disdain of modern times they happened to live in.

For what it was worth, Y/N considered herself lucky. He was… polite, usually gentle which was way more than she could have ever asked for from people in his social class. His hands were smooth, untainted by physical labour that he never had to do. His disposition contradicted his father's, a man purely self-absorbed and cruel with one purpose – wealth.

Y/N was grateful for the person he was deep down, even though he was forcing her into situations they could avoid, yet rarely violating her physically or mentally.

Nickolas was… indifferent. His demeanour calm, collected and bordering on bored most of the time. His eyes looked at her with a never ending patience and neutrality she grew to appreciate, after watching the way many of his brothers treated their own wives. She was lucky.

The mindset she worked so hard to build, throwing away the values she dreamed of as a little girl, the warm dreams of having a loving marriage with several kids, conversations that would seem to go on forever sprinkled with tender kisses on the forehead and warm touches that would warm her up on cold nights. She exchanged those hopes for expensive dresses and a mansion much too big for any amount of wood to warm. There were continual expensive dinners and meaningless conversations with people she wouldn't care to see ever again with fake seemingly polite smiles. These people never stopped beckoning for their service, acting like the simple action of pouring themselves tea was too much to burden their minds with.

So she was grateful, playing along with the quick pace of life they had. Dressing up quickly, perfecting the empty smile she got used to wearing on a daily basis.

“Be grateful, because you could have had it much worse” she mentally repeated to herself.

A soft squeeze of his hand tore her out of her thoughts, his brown eyes watching her patiently. He witnessed the difficulties she struggled with back then. So her silence rang louder than ever.

”We will spend two days in Birmingham and be back on our way. Tomorrow is the day of the gala, and the day after you will spend on your own matters.” He spoke quietly, reading the troubling emotions in her eyes. He always saw through the mask of neutrality he taught her how to wear like her second skin: a mutual understanding.

Her eyes slowly followed along the lines of his face, finally settling on holding eye contact. Slowly nodding, she covered his hand with her own before forcing out a small smile.

”Thank you” She responded, straightening her back before the train started slowing down before coming to a full stop.

Patting her thigh for the last time, he pulled away.

”Come on. It's time to go”

~~

After getting out of the train, Y/N watched how after stepping out her boots immediately covered in mud.

Some things never changed, she thought with a smile as the scent of smoke filled her nostrils.

”Christ” Nickolas muttered, his face twisting in disgust. Birmingham was nothing like the London they were used to, first expression of the city obnoxiously underwhelming for Winterbourne.

Standing by the road sign they waited for a moment before the designated car pulled up, halting by their feet as the driver opened the door, offering to help in packing the luggage.

Y/N seemed distraught, looking around as she immediately recognized the streets despite small differences and the fact she didn't leave even remotely close back then. A city centre it was, fair distance from Small Heath. A place she used to call home.

”Come on, get in the car” Nickolas whispered, noticing her distracted gaze, grabbing her arm lightly and nudging her towards the vehicle, bringing her out of memories thick like smoke. Looking at him she nodded, obediently getting inside before the car took them to the hotel.

One she had never been in before. This whole situation felt suffocating in ways so weird, she was barely able to look him in the eyes. Even as they moved to the building, getting all the formalities done she couldn't help but let her mind wander towards the ghosts of her past.

Loud, obnoxious laugh filled her head bringing a little smile on her red lips. One that definitely belonged to John, his eyes glimmering with mischief like most of the time. Through the eyes of imagination she saw Ada's long, dark hair she constantly complained about, sighing dramatically in a way that never ceased to make Y/N roll her eyes. Suffering from success, she used to call it, teasing her friend with whom she grew up so close.

A sound came to her ears as lift brought them to the right level, she moved seemingly on an autopilot when her husband fumbled with keys, looking for the right one.

As the door swung open she let out a silent sigh as she remembered. The memory she worked on suppressing so long caught up randomly, big, blue eyes surrounded by thick, dark eyelashes. Colour so dynamic, swiftly changing with the feeling simmering beneath his tough exterior, yet always so bright and clear when he looked at her. She felt like she saw him for the first time, despite it being nothing but her exterior shell shattering at the unwanted memories flooding back in.

Suddenly, she felt out of breath and barely an hour after checking into the hotel, she was in bed facing away from Nickolas. The wall she put up between them nearing the height of one he tried to shatter after getting to know the girl. She seemed so small as she lay on her side, every inch of her body hidden under covers. Hair scattered on the pillow, keeping his gaze away from her features.

They just got here, and he was already losing, Nickolas thought, before remembering the small detail that could shatter his reality if ease if looked into.

”Goodnight” He whispered, pressing a kiss onto her shoulder before turning away and giving her space as the lights went out.

It was only so long he could bend reality to his will, he thought, before closing his eyes and allowing Morpheus' embrace to swallow him up.

In contrast to him, Y/N didn't fall asleep once. The unknown anticipation swirled around in her stomach, pushing her even further away from the man sleeping by her side. Something was coming, and she knew it.

~~

”Do you really trust what you're saying?” Her voice came to his ears, quieter, less confident than usually she'd speak to him.

Leaning forward on his arms, he let his head drop in defeat for a moment before lifting him up. Strong, unyielding gaze meeting her worried, slightly anxious eyes.

Her position in the family and in company made her learn how to deal with emotions on her own for years.. which was never an issue. Woman could only be so vulnerable after raising that many kids and protecting them from the disgusting reality with her fragile hands and soul on her shoulder. But she managed.

So the rare vulnerability she displayed that evening, looking in her nephew's eyes was nothing short of special. The string of responsibility connecting them in ways none of his siblings would understand.

Staring blankly for a moment, he ended up nodding.

”I know, Polly.” He spoke up, his voice heavy with exhaustion and the fear he tried to bury somewhere between his ribs, to never be seen again. But it was there, alive as ever, making his heart thump in an unnatural rhythm. Reminding him of one of survival. Desperate attempts to stick to life even when the dirty earth in the tunnels tried to swallow him alive.

”You need to trust me when I say things will go back to normal. I waited for long enough.” His voice came out sharper than he'd like it to. Blue eyes soothing the damage his voice has done and Polly understood.

Being a witness to the struggles he faced on daily, responsibilities piling on him like layers of clothing, giving no space to grieve the loss of someone who was never supposed to be gone.

…and so he didn't. Instead building an empire on his bitterness and pain, trusting that… whatever was up there would provide if it was meant to be.

That day for once in his life Thomas wanted to pray.

~~

“You need to pick up your pace, Y/N. We can't afford to be late to such an event.” Nickolas snapped, his usually calm and collected demeanour dishevelled with stress as he watched time ticking away on his watch.

She didn't sleep, almost at all. Putting on the mask was more difficult than usual, having to layer the makeup on her tired face, exhausted eyes. The years of struggles managed to catch up in the nine hours she spent on trying to fall asleep. Dreamless nights and loveless days connected with the anticipation in her stomach making it impossible to close her eyes.

”What will they think of us if we show up late, Y/N?” He shot once again watching her movements with his chin higher than he usually carried.

In moments of distress Y/N saw his father in him, usually perfectly hidden away lack of spine showing through the wounds of what the perfect life did to him. Minor inconvenience making him furious.

”Put on your jacket and smoke a cigarette, Nickolas. By the time you're done I will be waiting.” She responded in a neutral way, already taught to not feed into his bitterness in such situations. Not because he was right, but rather to avoid making him cranky as he would surely ruin her already difficult evening.

Watching her with contempt for a moment, he let out a heavy breath before stepping away.

”Five minutes or you will walk there. I'm not going to be late because of your irresponsibility.” His voice faded with the distance growing between them.

Y/N sighed looking at her reflection.

A man that was never supposed to be a husband.

All eyes were on them as soon as they arrived. Y/N smiled, nodding along to the people she saw for the first time as they spoke to Nickolas. She was to not speak unless spoken to, Mr. Winterbourne taught her four years ago. Smile, look pretty and watch your husband. Be attentive and elegant at all times.

Entering the event took them about fifteen minutes with all the pleasantries Nick kept giving away to his associates. Deep down she hated it. The constant need to pretend, not a single movement one of her own.

”Mr. Winterbourne!” A voice came from behind their back as they walked into the main room. An older man with jet-black hair approached quickly, his arm wrapped around the waist of his wife. Glancing at her, they exchanged a joyful look before standing right by Y/N. “Long time no see” His voice was low, but not threatening. Something about the tall and broad man was inviting, friendly.

”Indeed, it's been a long while.” Nick responded, straightening his back before greeting the older woman, getting a hold of her hand gently and kissing the temple. ”How is life treating you, Sir?” His tone mannered and calm, just like always whenever he was in a public eye. After getting a response, he began talking about the details of the gala before the woman suddenly interrupted him.

”...and who is this beautiful woman?” She spoke completely relaxed to which Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. If she interrupted her husband or any man he was currently talking to in such a manner, she'd get severely punished if not slapped at the spot. Nicholas raised his eyebrow but quickly put on a collected exterior again.

”This is my wife, Y/N” He introduced her, slightly embarrassed that he forgot to do so in the first place. What would they think of him? The older man reflected, kissing her temple with a smile and his wife took her hand in her own.

”Oh, I see” She said, looking at the ring on her finger. ”Absolutely beautiful, how about we get something to drink while men talk about the important matters?” She suggested light-heartedly, winking at her husband who chuckled, shaking his head before giving a simple nod.

”Great idea. I will find you in just a few moments, Precious.”

The way their interactions took place made Y/N truly shocked, she's never seen such behaviour among people in their class before. Were people of Birmingham different than them?

Waiting for his approval obediently Y/N only moved when he gave her a stern nod, clearly not pleased with his own performance, yet he would never admit it.

His behaviour was different this time, she could clearly see it. He was more emotional in the wrong way, every little detail making him visibly angry.

”I’m Meredith” The seemingly fourty year old woman stated, glancing at Y/N sideways. ”You seem to love these kind of events, don't you?” She joked, seeing the way Y/N’s smile dropped as soon as they turned away from their husbands. Internally she panicked hearing the elegant woman's remark, her eyes widening with fear. ”Oh, no worries. We're on the same page… besides. They serve really good drinks, so soon enough it will be bearable.” The tone of her voice was light and amusing as she gave Y/N a little shove. Her demeanor was relaxed and open, matching her husband's which was… refreshing.

”Better get to it then” She mustered a smile in response.

To be fair, time did start passing faster as they settled by the table, slowly sipping on tasteful drinks and talking in a way that allowed Y/N feel much less comfortable than she was at first. A breath of fresh air.

”We’re local. My husband, Christopher, is the owner of several businesses passed down through the family. That's how he knows Winterbournes.” She explained eventually before leaning in closer. ”He doesn't get along well with your father in law. Tradition and peace are the only things keeping them tied together.”

Y/N listened carefully, appreciating that after a couple drinks Meredith's tongue got a bit loose. Usually she'd never hear a single detail about her husband's business or family. She wasn't family by blood, so her access to information was very restricted.

Getting lost in her thoughts again she zoned out for a second before Nickolas’ voice came to her ear from close proximity.

”This is my wife, Y/N Winterbourne.” He introduced her and it took a second to stand up, smooth out her dress before her eyes met the guests.

…and just for a second, her heart stopped, mouth slightly parting as she met the blue gaze she dreamed of for so many years.

”May we dance, Mrs. Winterbourne?” Thomas Shelby asked, standing side to side with her husband. Slightly shorter yet visibly towering over him.

For once she forgot her manners, not able to tear her eyes away from him as she gave a quick nod and without another word, he grabbed her hand pulling her towards the dance floor among other couples. Completely stiff and frozen, her vocal chords were not cooperating as she was on the verge of a panic attack.

His hands grabbed her own, setting them on his shoulders as he pulled her closer.

”Breathe” He said quietly in a husky tone as his scent almost made her faint.

[star2fishmeg]

ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴀᴠᴇ

Authors Note | Cowboy!Jack headcanons for my Homegrown AU.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who got his nickname ‘The Brave’ from always being the more adventurous of the three. The one jumping straight into opportunities and living life in the moment, making the most of every second, showing no fear in uncertainty which led him to riding bronco/bull riding in rodeos and being exceptional at it too.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who loves sitting around the firepit in the evenings with you, cuddled on one of the benches under a blanket. There’ll be no music, just the crackling of the fire and melodies of the crickets filling the background while you sit on his lap, his arms around your middle and you’re speaking in murmurs. It’s your alone time, your seclusion from the long day you’ve both had where you can indulge in each other’s comfort. He’ll bury his nose in your shoulder, eyelashes fluttering close against your skin and sometimes you’ll feel his lips softly meet your neck. Some nights you’ll make s’mores together and crack open a can or three if he’s starting later the next day.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who pretends to be annoyed when you turn his kitchen into a mini vet clinic, watching you nurse birds and stray cats back to health but ends up helping you anyway. Something about seeing you so gentle and kind when you could have left it to suffer warms his heart, how you give him strict instructions makes his lips tug into a grin and all he can muster out is a ‘Got it, Sugar.’ or ‘Yes, ma’am.’ It makes him wish he could join you tending his ranch’s own animals more.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who never says no when you ask to go out somewhere. Whether it’s watching and cheering for his friends competing at a rodeo, visiting the lake for a swim or to skip stones, heading into a market to grab a few things where he’ll buy you a bouquet of flowers, whatever you want, he’s more than happy to go with you. He’ll have his hand in your back pocket, smile on his face and lets you take as many photos as you like.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who spends his free time at bars with his friends, but loves dancing with you shamelessly. He’ll take you by the hand and twirl you around, dip you and kiss your lips hard. He’ll teach you how to play pool, do that cheeky manoeuvre where he’ll stand behind you, hand on your hip and chest pressed to your back as he mutters the instructions deliberately low in your ear. He’ll place his hand on your waist if he feels another cowboy’s eyes undressing you, he’s never going to find another woman like you, he’ll hold on for as long as you’ll let him.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who buys you pygmy goat to keep you company around the ranch while he’s away and in general as a little friend. Others thought it was weird but ever since you were a kid, all you've wanted was a little pygmy goat trotting around with you. With the way you both look after it, you’d think it was a child. At first, Jack was hesitant to have much involvement but over time he grew fond and worries when it’s not bouncing around his or your feet. 

▸ Cowboy!Jack who delivers eggs to your family for free. He thinks you make the best pancakes and you’re regularly making him breakfast. He knows how many eggs your father and brother get through as well, it’s the least he can do. 

▸ Cowboy!Jack who takes you to the best spots to watch the sunset, grinning the entire drive while refusing to tell you where he’s taking you. He’ll surprise you with picnics, in which he totally didn’t have Ellen help him make, as you talk about your days and fill each other in on any family news. He’ll find little surrounding flowers that remind him of you and tuck them behind your ear, pull you onto his lap plant quick kisses over your neck and cheeks.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who has your initials on his boots. He’s Jack, he has a few pairs of boots so what’s the harm in one pair having your initials on them? He wears them every day, a sentiment of the feeling you’re with him all the time. Of course, he’ll have a photo of you in the brim of his hat but in his boots feels more unique to him. He had them professionally etched in when he bought them, they had to be perfect, they represented you, the woman he loves with his whole soul. It’s special.

▸ Cowboy!Jack who lets you put little braids in his hair when he’s lying on your lap. One of his favourite things is seeing you sat up in bed or on the sofa. To him, it’s an invitation to plonk himself down, head on your thighs so he can watch the TV or take a nap while you thread your fingers through his hair gently, weaving little braids sporadically and he’ll keep them there for the rest of the day, ignoring the witty comments he gets from his brothers or friends. They’ll never know the little tingly sensation that covers his scalp, how his body melts instinctively in your presence. 

▸ Cowboy!Jack who’s a handy man, fixing rooves, fences, anything and everything but ask him to do a simple task like collecting eggs from the coop? Better off doing it yourself, he’ll just forget. He’ll always fix anything for you and expect nothing but a kiss for it, always offering to check your car, your house appliances, your fences, floorboards, anything. If you haven’t seen him all day, there’s a likely chance he’s balanced on a barn roof, either painting or reinforcing the panelling. He prefers doing it all in the summer though, it means he gets a chance to show off and strip from his shirt, jokingly trying to entice you, but you just laugh at him and continue with whatever you were doing. 

▸ Cowboy!Jack who, on the rare occasion where he doesn’t win a rodeo, comes straight to your place for comfort. He has a key to your place, so when you’re in slumber and feel a sudden weight slinging over your waist, breathing on your neck and a chest pressed into your back, you know it’s Jack. You’ll roll over and brush the strands of hair from his face, place soft kisses to his cheeks and lips, letting him hold you close. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he’ll need your praise, and you will tell him the truth, that he is good at what he does, that he shouldn’t give up, that he can’t win everything but most importantly, it’s not the end of the world. His heart will slow and warm again, the urge to sob will dissipate and soon enough he’ll pull you to lay on his chest and run his hands over your waist, shamelessly sliding his hands under your clothes and whisper that he loves you.

nhl wags | @bunbunbl0gs @bewaryofpity @wineauntie (To be added to taglists, just comment or ask via ‘pass me the puck!’) [Masterlist] [Requests CLOSED]

Special thanks to @rowdyluv and @bewaryofpity for some of the bullet points.

2025 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost any of my works. Please let me know if you notice that any of these have been done to my work.

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[kalulakunundrum]

Sleep a little easier

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

Hurt/comfort! Reader has nightmares about the war, and Katsuki is there to comfort them

tw: nightmares, a small panic attack, spoilers for the manga, thats about it I think :)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The nightmares started shortly after the war ended. 

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that everyone in your class suffered from them, after the horrors you all experienced, and so you kept quiet. More often than not you’d end up awake all night, either forgoing sleep so you didn't have to relive that day, or the subsequent anxiety attack after your nightmare being bad enough to prevent you from getting any more rest. But life went on, and the only change in your daily life was a heavy increase in caffeine to keep up with classes, and besides that no one seemed to notice.

Or so you thought.

It was Friday night and Mina organized a movie night for your main little friend group to hang out before break. The invite was of course extended to everyone, but most people already had plans, or headed home for break early.

Kiri decided to subject you all to ‘Human Earthworm 4’ which he swears up and down is actually a love story, to which you all just sigh and settle in. The bunch of you cram onto the large couch in the middle, squishing you between the armrest and Bakugo, as you fight a blush from rising on your cheeks. Sero turns out the light before running to the opposite end of the couch as Kiri queues up the movie, talking Mina’s ear off about the first three in the series. Carefully you try to spread out your blanket across your legs, doing your best to not invade Bakugo’s personal space more than you already are.

He observes you out of the corner of his eye before glancing at the others, seeing them enthralled in the show already

“Here” he gruffs out, hand darting for the other edge of the blanket, simultaneously dragging it across both your legs, and throwing his other arm up on the couch behind you, so you can settle further in with a little more room. 

“Thank you” you smile up at him, hoping the dim lighting from the TV hides the heat you can feel burning your face.

As time goes on you do your best to pay attention, but slowly you start to nod off, head drooping, before shooting back up awake. After watching this cycle for a while Bakugo slides his arm off the couch, gently pressing your head against his shoulder, as his arm falls across yours.

“Take a nap princess, you look like you need it” he whispers in your ear. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to freak out about the position you two are in and the nickname later on, maybe even over analyze every part of this interaction with Mina too. But for now the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne lull you into a somewhat peaceful sleep. 

Well, a short lived one.

You saw it seconds before it actually happened, the fate that was to come, and in the blink of an eye, Bakugo is launched through the air, dead before he even hits the ground. 

You scream, but no sound comes out.

God you’re so tired, your leg is broken, and your quirk is fried, but you have to get to him. 

So you crawl. 

Agony shoots up every nerve in your body as you drag your weary bones across the field, sobs wracking your entire being.

“Bakugo?” you shake his shoulder, hardly able see him through the tears in your eyes

“Get up please, it’s not funny” you mumble, sobbing even harder. 

Oh god, you can’t even do chest compressions because his fucking sternum was blown out. For a second you think you might hurl. 

“Katsuki?” you manage to whisper, throat tight, gripping his hand, like you could physically will him back into his body.

But this is where your nightmare always differs from reality, as you glance up, ready to scream yourself raw to get him some help, but find everyone else is already dead, and it’s just you alone with Katsuki’s body, with no way to fix him, as Shigaraki slowly approaches you. 

“I think I’m in love with you” you whisper to him, a secret you were always too scared to say out loud, or even admit to yourself “I’ve always sort of known, and I never said anything and now I never will and I-“ you’re cut off by a violent sob, choosing to curl into his side instead, and wait for the enviable blow to be delivered. 

You lost. 

But Katsuki would never let you live down giving up, so with shaky hands you reach for one of the last grenades strapped to his belt, but Shigaraki is on you before you can even breathe. You yelp, and-

You jolt awake with a stuttered breath, sobs ripping themselves from your chest uncontrollably. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware it was a nightmare but your body and heart can’t seem to keep up, as your soul feels trapped in that damned coffin in the sky. 

You desperately claw at your chest, trying to get breath in and the dull ache out but nothing seems to be working. That is, until you feel warm hands cupping your wet cheeks. 

Faintly, you hear your name being called, softly summoning you back to reality from whatever hellish realm you slipped off to. 

Slowly the world around you comes into focus, the lounge, now absent of all your friends, except for one very concerned looking Katsuki who’s holding you as softly as he can, like both your lives depend on it. You try to focus on his face, the sharp features you love so much illuminated by the dim light of the movie’s end credit screen.

“Breath, sweetheart, you have to get some air in, ok? Can you do that for me?” He takes one of your hands and places it on his chest

“Nice and slow, just follow me” he murmurs. The two of you sit like this, close enough to see every fleck in his crimson eyes, until your breathing evens out and your sobs subside. Katsuki doesn’t dare let go of your hands.

“How long?” He asks, not having to clarify any further. You let out a weak laugh

“Day after the war?” You question, not even remembering yourself how long you’ve been having the nightmares at this point. 

“Every night?” He softly presses, a deep need to assess the situation and find a solution. You sigh, looking away from him

“Everytime I close my eyes” You whisper, as he silently just nods

“About me?” you whip your head back to him in surprise, but before you could ask, he goes on “You were murmuring my name before you woke up” this time he looks away, guilt clear as day on his face “I’m sorry” he whispers, and for a moment your head spins. He’s sorry? Why is he sorry?

“Katsuki” you tilt his face back towards you, debating your next few words “It wasn’t your fault”

“But-“ you silence him with a glare

“I have nightmares because in that moment there was nothing I could do to-“ your voice cracks, and you pause for a second “In that moment I thought I lost you forever. And that was the worst moment of my life, and I realized I never even told you-“ you cut yourself off, shaking your head “But you’re ok” You give him a weak smile

“But you're having these nightmares because I was stupid and I- I died! And you had to see that!” he spits out, anger rising “I put you through that, I put you all through that! Everyone knows the nerd only just started being able to look at me again without bursting into tears, and I’m not sure dunce face is ever going to be the same again, and now you-“ You lean in, wrapping your arms around his middle, as the words die on his tongue. 

“We were in a war Katsuki” you say softly “All of us are only 16 and have seen more horrors than most of the world has ever known existed. Every single one of us is still working through what we went through, including you” he stays silent “I have nightmares about losing you, because I care. For you. Deeply.” you let your words hang, letting him take them however he needs to. 

Katsuki has always known something was different about you, that something between the two of you was more important than anything else. Charged, in a way he had never experienced before. He hates seeing you hurt, and he hates knowing he is the cause of it. But here you are, comforting him, even after having a nightmare about him that he was trying to comfort you over. Everytime he thinks he can’t fall any harder, you smile at him and it feels like the floor disappears from beneath his feet. He knows he can't ignore it anymore, push away his feelings for your safety. He wants to be selfish with you, consequences be damned.

You feel his hands tighten and relax against the fabric of your sweatshirt multiple times before he finally speaks up

“Go out with me” he pauses, as you draw back to look at him “on a date” he glances away and the wheels in your brain stop turning. At your silence he glances back, this time holding eye contact, determination clear on his face “I care about you too. More than the others, more than I cared to admit to myself until recently” He loosens a breath, before continuing “I want to spend all my time with you, even if it sounds stupid. I just-” he pauses again “Want to be with you… always” he looks at you almost hopefully, waiting for an answer, trying to read your mind. 

A smile breaks out on your face, to which he answers with a grin 

“Yes Katsuki! A million times yes!” You tackle him further back onto the couch burying your face in his chest, feeling the rumble of a laugh on your cheek

“Alright, alright don’t be too excited sweetheart” he teases, but his words hold no heat, and the smile on his face is shining brighter than ever before, not that you can see it. You’re perfectly content to stay right where you are, listening to his heartbeat pounding strong, if not a little bit fast, in his chest. Maybe you'll sleep just a little bit easier at night if you can listen to its sweet rhythm while you fall asleep.

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A/n: Hello!! This is my first ever fic really so if it sucks I'm trying ok!! I'm also still figuring out how tumblr works so Thats about it,, have a good day/night everyone!!