#But he made a promise to protect this kid and by god he's gonna do it

[ari-ana-bel-la]

hi honey, i absolutely love your fics, they've made me smile, laugh, cry and scream in cuteness. i was wondering if you could do this trend:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMB7Aupdp/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMB7D47xE/

but with the drivers and their daughters/sons, like driver says 'im so hungry i could eat a child' and their kids reactions... if you dont want to, there's no problem at all. love 🩷🩷

Only Kidding

It was a slow Friday at the paddock—calm skies, mild temperatures, and everything running on time for once. Lando sat back in the team hospitality lounge, his race suit unzipped down to his waist and tied at his hips, a plain white T-shirt clinging slightly from the heat. But he didn’t care about that.

All his attention was on the small girl curled in his lap, playing with the braided bracelets on his wrist.

“Careful,” he said gently, watching her fingers tangle a little too tight. “That one’s from Monaco. I like that one.”

Yn looked up at him with the same big brown eyes that made people double take whenever they walked by. “I’m being careful, Daddy.”

“I know you are,” he said with a smile, brushing his hand over her curls.

She looked so much like him it was a little ridiculous sometimes. Same nose, same smile, same stubborn little pout. His heart squeezed just looking at her. Five years old and already the most important thing in his world—no contest.

Max walked into the lounge with a cold drink in one hand and a slightly mischievous grin. “Mate, she’s gonna braid those onto your face if you don’t stop her soon.”

“She can do whatever she wants,” Lando replied without hesitation. “She’s the boss.”

Yn beamed proudly and held up his arm. “I’m decorating!”

From the couch beside them, Ria laughed. “You’re doing a great job, love.”

Lando leaned his head back with a soft sigh. “God, I’m starving. I could eat a whole child.”

There was a pause.

A very small, very deliberate pause.

Yn froze. Her tiny fingers stopped playing with his bracelets. Slowly, she looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“You could… what?” she asked, voice quiet and slightly horrified.

Max choked on his drink.

Lando blinked, confused by her sudden stillness. “What?”

Yn carefully slid off his lap, step by step, not breaking eye contact.

“Baby?” he said, raising a brow.

She didn’t answer.

She walked—no, tiptoed—straight to Ria and climbed into her lap without a word, still looking at Lando like he had grown fangs.

Ria burst out laughing the moment Yn clutched her like a safety blanket.

“Oh my god,” Max wheezed. “She thinks you’re gonna eat her!”

“I was kidding!” Lando said, now cracking up too. “Yn, baby, I swear—I was joking!”

Yn blinked slowly at him, her little hands fisted in Ria’s hoodie.

“Why would you say that?” she asked seriously, as if this was a courtroom and he was on trial.

“I was hungry! It’s just a joke people say sometimes!”

“You said you could eat a child,” she repeated, dramatically betrayed.

Ria was shaking with laughter now. “Honestly, I’d go hide too if my dad said that.”

Lando leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Come here, monkey. I promise I’m not gonna eat you. You’re my whole heart, remember?”

She hesitated, still snuggled against Ria.

“You said you were hungry.”

“I was. But I meant I could eat, like, a really big sandwich. Or a mountain of pasta. Not you.”

Max threw in, “Yeah, I don’t think you’d taste very good anyway.”

“Max!” Ria hissed, laughing harder.

Yn’s mouth twitched.

Lando noticed. “Uh oh. Is that a smile?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.” She turned her face into Ria’s shoulder, giggling quietly.

“I got you,” Ria said softly, kissing her head. “We’ll protect you from the Big Bad Hungry Dad.”

“I’m not the Big Bad anything!” Lando insisted, dramatically affronted. “I’m your dad! I read you bedtime stories and make dinosaur-shaped pancakes!”

“You do,” Yn admitted shyly.

“And I sing terribly in the car just to make you laugh.”

She nodded again.

“So can I please have my snuggle-bug back?”

She finally looked at him properly, serious again. “You really won’t eat me?”

“Not even a nibble.”

“Not even a toe?”

“Not even a toe.”

Yn wriggled out of Ria’s lap and padded back over. Lando opened his arms wide, and she dove into them like a little rocket. He hugged her tight, lifting her slightly onto his lap again.

“You scared me,” she said into his chest.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful with my jokes, yeah?”

“Okay.”

From behind them, Max mumbled, “You know, if you just packed snacks like I told you—”

“Not the time, Max.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🤍🦢

[ariestrxsh]

olderbrothersbsf!matt x innocent!reader

જ⁀➴ ♡ content warning: smut, innocence corruption, masturbation, use of toys, oral (f!receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, sneaking around, getting caught, small age gap (both characters are adults), forbidden love

જ⁀➴ ♡ summary: your older brother is back in town for summer vacation, and he brings home his childhood best friend, matt sturniolo, who can't seem to keep his eyes off of you

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask! enjoy. (p.s. sorry i made matt so pervy in this. honestly idk what got into me lmfao)

dividers by @/roseraris

Young God

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

You were in your room, listening to music, headphones in and volume on full blast while you sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through your playlist when some movement out of the corner of your left eye broke you out of your focus. You glanced up at your partially open door to see your older brother peeking through and tapping on the barrier to try to get your attention.

He was finally home for summer vacation from his second year of college. "Hey!" You jumped up, taking out your earbuds and throwing your arms around him in a big hug. "Hey, little sis. It's been a while," He greeted you, not having seen you since winter vacation earlier that year. Behind him was Matt Sturniolo, his childhood best friend who you hadn't seen in even longer.

"Hey, Matt," you said, your gaze traveling over towards your brother's best friend, who looked as attractive as ever. You'd always had an insatiable crush on him, and it didn't help that he had more facial hair, more tattoos, and a more chiseled jawline since the last time you'd seen each other.

He always hit like a drug, like a habit you couldn't kick, like a long-term addiction you couldn't shake. He flooded your system with cascading waves of dopamine whenever you looked at him and interacted with him. You craved him. However, you knew you couldn't ever pursue him.

Your brother had always warned you about him. "I know as you get older and start developing feelings for boys, you're gonna wanna start dating. But whoever you date, please don't date my friends, especially not Matt Sturniolo. I know he's my best friend, but the kid's bad news. He's only after one thing when it comes to girls, and he's off-limits to you," you recalled your brother saying to you.

After you'd started going through puberty, your brother had been hyperaware of the way your behavior suddenly changed towards his best friend. He'd started picking up on the way you'd been interacting differently with Matt, trying to get his attention more often and trying to find excuses to be in the same room as him, which terrified him.

You didn't know what he meant by that, only after one thing? You didn't know what that one thing was, but you secretly found yourself curious about it, and you wondered if it was something you could give to Matt. But you nodded at your brother, promising to stay away from Matt despite the way your stomach dropped when you looked at his friend.

"Hey, you're all grown up," Matt replied, bringing you back to the present. He subtly checked you out before pulling you into a hug, leaning down, hooking his arms around your waist, and picking you up. He let out a soft grunt as he lifted you into the air. He loved the way your body felt writhing against him as you giggled. "Put me down," you half-heartedly said, secretly loving the you felt in his arms.

Your brother shot him a look as he placed your feet back down on the hardwood floor beneath you. "I'm going off to college after the summer ends. Can you believe it?" You asked, swaying back and forth. "No, I can't. The boys at school are going to adore you," Matt said, nibbling on his lip and doing nothing to conceal the hungry look in his eye.

You didn't notice, but your protective older brother did.

"Hey, Matt and I are gonna go grab some dessert. He's gonna stay the night here. We'll be back," your brother said, wrapping up the conversation so he could go scold Matt in the car and remind him of the rules about hitting on his little sister. "Can I come?" You wondered, your eyes lighting up at a chance to be in Matt's presence once again. "I don't think that's a good idea," your brother started to say.

"Come on. Let her tag along so we can all catch up. I'll buy," Matt offered, looking back over at you with a smug smile. "Fine," your brother hesitantly said, leading the three of you out to the garage. You sat in the backseat in the middle and clicked your seltbelt closed.

On the way to get a sweet treat, Matt sat in the passenger seat with his head craned all the way around, his eyes lingering on your sweet treat between your thighs. You'd forgotten you were in a skirt and were innocently sitting with your legs splayed out while your pink panties peeked out from underneath the short fabric.

Your brother, who was focused on the road, was completely unaware of the show you were unknowingly putting on for Matt.

"So, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you? You got a boyfriend now?" Matt lustfully cooed, not that he cared if you did, while studying the outline of your puffy lips through your underwear. He bit down on his lip while his cock jumped in his jeans at the sight.

Your brother glared over at him, recognizing the tone of voice he was using on you. The same he'd use when trying to take girls to bed. "No. All the boys my age are so immature. I don't want to be with any of them," you said, making a face. "Oh really?" Matt replied in a smug voice.

You guys had arrived at your destination, and after you guys had all ordered your desserts to go, Matt was handing his card over to the employee and giving you sly looks while he undressed you in his mind.

The three of you piled back into the car to head home. Matt watched intently as you swirled your tongue around on your strawberry ice cream, imagining you were lapping up something else. "Thank you for the dessert, Matt. It's so good," you said, letting out a soft moan while you savored the taste. You weren't trying to tease him, but you were driving him wild.

"Oh, a little is dripping onto the sides there," Matt pointed at the melted, pink liquid leaking down the waffle cone, and you licked a long stripe up the dessert, cleaning it off with your tongue. "Almost got it. Give it one more good lick," he urged you.

"That's it. Good girl. You got it," Matt purred, licking hot fudge off his spoon as you dragged your tongue up the length of your cone once more. His eyes flashed back to your panties, and he noted a small damp spot on the front of the pink cotton. Blood rushed to your cheeks as Matt watched you.

Your brother reached over and slugged Matt in the arm, almost making him drop his hot fudge sundae. "Hey!" Matt exclaimed. "Hey, why'd you do that?" You innocently asked, secretly enjoying the way Matt was watching you and talking to you. "Don't worry about it. Matt's just being a perv," your brother scoffed.

You realized where Matt's eyes kept traveling back to when he wasn't watching you clean off your cone. Suddenly, you became self-conscious, slamming your legs shut and going back to eating your ice cream in silence while you looked out the window.

It's not so much that you minded Matt viewing you that way. It's that your brother was picking up on it. You avoided eye contact with both of them, worried that they had noticed how much you liked when Matt had called you good girl.

No one said a word the rest of the awkward car ride home. Later that night, the boys went into your brother's room, which was only ever occupied when he was home from school, to play video games.

You desperately needed to take care of the aching feeling between your legs you'd been wrestling with since Matt had picked you up earlier when you'd hugged him. You reached into your pink panties and started slowly rubbing yourself while you pictured Matt.

On the other side of the wall, Matt and your brother were tapping away on their controllers in front of their game. Your brother was quietly berating Matt for the way he was looking at you and talking to you earlier while they waited for the next round to render.

"Dude, that's my sister. Please don't try anything."

"Relax. I'm just having a little fun making her blush. She's really cute when she gets all worked up," Matt smugly responded. "Gross. Don't talk about her like that. If you lay a finger on her, our friendship is over. I'm serious," your brother said in a somber tone. How about in her? Matt silently wondered, smirking to himself.

"Seriously, I'll kill you if she loses it to you," he told Matt sternly, insinuating you were a virgin. "She hasn't lost it yet?" Matt's gazed off into the distance as a perverted scene unfurled in his mind. "Gross. Forget I told you that. Just stay away from her," your brother said, eating his words after he remembered Matt had a thing for innocence corruption.

"Don't worry," he smirked, holding up both hands up in a defensive position, despite the thoughts going on behind his eyes about stuffing you for the first time. "I'm going to bed after this game. I feel sick after watching you with her today," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Matt brushed off his friend's comments. It's not that Matt didn't value his friendship with your brother and love him dearly. It's just that he was weak to his carnal desires, unable to say no to them and unable to turn down temptation when it was taunting him. Especially when it was forbidden fruit.

After they finished their final round, they shut off the light and Matt laid down on the floor next to your brother's bed with a blanket and a pillow. Your brother had fallen asleep and started softly snoring, and right as Matt began to drift off, a low hum woke him up.

At first he thought he was getting a call, but when he peered down at a black screen after picking up his phone, he realized the vibrating was coming from somewhere else entirely. It was low, unwavering, and seemed to be coming from the other side of the wall, in the direction of your bedroom.

Matt stealthily got up and slipped out the room. When he stepped into the hallway, he realized a dim light was pouring out of your room and into the hallway through a crack in your door you'd left open a bit on accident. Matt approached your room and peered in through the sliver of space between the door and the frame.

There you were, bathed in warm candlelight, laying on top of your blanket naked, legs spread, and steadying a vibrator on your clit. Matt smirked to himself as he studied the way your thighs quivered while you used your toy.

Your lips were fixed in an o shape, your cheeks were pink, and your brows were pinched together. You shut your eyes and threw your head back as Matt's name slipped through your slew of whimpers.

He poked his head into your room, pushing the door open, and he slowly invited himself inside, approaching you to get a better look at you. He loved the way your slick folds glistened in the soft lighting, and the way your breasts started to subtly bounce as you started to violently shake.

You were right on the verge of greatness, slowly nearing a climactic ending, when your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Matt standing at the foot of your bed, staring down hungrily at your pussy. Immediately, you grew insecure about being watched, chasing away your orgasm.

"Matt!?" You said his name again, but this time in an aggravated whisper. "Poor thing. All alone in here. Why play with those toys when you could have the real thing?" Matt cooed, reaching for your pink vibrator. You handed it to him while it was still buzzing, and when he rested it back onto your clit, you let out a relieved sigh in response.

"Good girl. Just lay back and relax. Just here to help," he softly directed you. "Oh, Matt," you breathed out softly, lifting your hips up and grinding up against the vibrator in his grip. You glanced down at his smirk and how his eyes were fixed on the way you were clenching around nothing.

With his free hand, he took his middle finger and started teasing your folds with it. Your eyes widened as he sunk his finger into your drooling cunt. For a moment, you thought you must be dreaming. You let out a loud, satisfied sigh as he pushed it all the way in.

"You gotta be quiet, sweet thing. If your brother had any idea what I'm doing to you right now, he'd kill me."

You nodded at him and placed your palm over your mouth to muffle all the noise you couldn't keep yourself from making. "It's gotta be our little secret," he grinned at you as he added another finger, and you could feel the cold metal of his rings on the warm flesh of your thighs as he pumped them back and forth into your heat.

"You're so tight," he whispered, relishing in the way you clenched around his digits while they started to stretch you out. He shut off your toy for a moment, setting it off to the side, and repositioning himself.

He lowered his head between your legs while he fingered you, and he started to work his mouth on your special place, rolling his soft tongue over your clit and manipulating your folds with it. He closed his lips down around your bundle of nerves and gently hummed against it, recreating the feeling of the vibrator, only much better.

You arched your back up off the bed and rolled your hips forward, chasing the sensation of his tongue exploring places no one ever had before. "Like that, princess?" He asked you in between licks. "I love it," you whispered back.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, and your legs started to tremble as he continued stimulating you with his mouth and his fingers. "Good girl. You got this," he cooed while you got close. His fingers curled so perfectly, hitting all the right spots while you kept your hand held tightly over your mouth, desperately trying to avoid waking anyone up.

"That's it, pretty thing. Cum all over my fingers," Matt purred sweet nothings from between your legs while he felt you starting to tighten around his fingers. "Relax. Let it happen. Give in to how good it feels," he talked you through it while you shook beneath him, experiencing your very first orgasm given to you by another person.

You let out a few soft whimpers that you couldn't keep to yourself while you steadily throbbed around Matt's fingers that had slowed to a stop once you'd finished. He licked them clean, and he complimented your flavor as he started pulling his cock out of his sweatpants.

You couldn't see much in the low candlelight, but it was intimidating-looking. You could see the veins that texturized his thick shaft, and you could make out how swollen the mushroom-shaped head was.

"You ever had one of these in here, sweetheart?" Matt cooed, giving you a devilish smile, and introducing his bulbous tip to your slick hole. You bit your lip and shook your head from side to side, confirming your innocence to him.

"Oh, poor thing. Let's fix that. You're way too cute to not be getting fucked," Matt groaned as he pushed it in. You squelched around his thick rod, and he shoved it all the way in until it filled you entirely, the base of his dick resting against your entrance.

You felt your pussy expanding around him as he started rocking his hips back and forth, hitting a pleasant spot deep inside of you. You held your breath for a moment, still adjusting to the size difference between his fingers and his cock, and when you exhaled, a few stifled sounds came through. It hurt so good.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well. Can't believe this is your first dick," he praised you softly while he delivered a few harder thrusts. Soon, there was no pain at all, only pleasure.

He grabbed you by your waist, steadying himself while he started to speed up, getting caught up in how good your virgin hole felt wrapped around him. He watched as he pumped back and forth, fixating on the way you coated his length in your arousal.

"That's it. Take it like the good girl you are. I know you've been dreaming about this for years," he smirked at you, and you eagerly nodded in response. It was like a fantasy come true, losing your virginity to a forbidden man, your brother's best friend, while your brother slept soundly one room over.

The bed started gently rocking and making a soft rhythmic thump thump thump as the headboard made contact with the wall. But each of you were too caught up in how incredible the other person's body parts felt to care about the noises you were making.

Matt picked up your toy again, and after propping your right leg up onto his shoulder to get a deeper stroke, he turned on your vibrator once more and held it on your clit again, sending your eyes rolling back in your head and causing your jaw to fall open in sheer desire. You'd never experienced stimulation quite like this, and you didn't know how badly you craved it until now.

When your gaze shifted back to Matt, he was peering down at you with glossed over eyes and a pleasure-filled expression. You were both at the gates of heaven, about to immerse yourselves into a shared orgasm that neither one of you could fend off any longer.

"That's it. Be a good girl. Finish all over my forbidden cock," Matt whispered, all too aware of the dynamic that existed between you, mocking your brother's attempt to keep you two apart, that instead drove the two of you into each other's arms in a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

You both tensed up, Matt injecting you with his seed and filling you to the brim while you throbbed around him, milking him dry. You guys softly moaned in harmony, your bodies moving in unison. The sound of the bed thudding against the wall came to a stop, and the buzzing of your toy dropped off when Matt killed the power on it.

"Wow. Your pussy is so pretty pumped full of my cum," Matt whispered with an edge of thrill in his voice as he pulled his meat out of you and watched the way it leaked out of you while you continued clenching around negative space, recovering from the orgasm Matt had just given you.

He was still admiring the mess he made inside you that started to leak onto your sheets when a stern and infuriated voice boomed from behind him, sending chills down his spine and sending a sobering wave of fear through his system when he realized the two of you had been caught. It was your brother, watching from the door way.

"I thought I fucking told you to stay away from her, Sturniolo."

part two here ❣️

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. soft smut. breeding kink.

On the continuation of my “Soft!Ghost” ideas: 

Imagine lovemaking with Simon. 

Simon has you—his pretty girl—tucked inside his bedroom, sandwiched between him and the mattress. Right in his arms, where you rightfully belong. 

(In his arms, you’re protected. Safe. Nothing could possibly ever harm you.)

Of course, the intensity of sex differs with his moods. On some days, he is a delicious mix of dominant and aggressive, claiming your body with a certain roughness that reflects how possessive he is over you. But, on other days, all Simon wants is to possess your heart and soul, in some desperate frenzy to stake his claim over them. 

You were made for Simon. In his eyes, that is the truth. How could it not be? Every inch of you—from the curve of your hipbones and the tanalizing way your bottom lip shines with a fresh layer of gloss to how your beautiful, doe eyes twinkle anytime he is near—is all his. You’re irresistible.

And when you lay beneath him, completely bare, ripe for the taking, whining out for his touch, what else could he possibly do than worship you? 

One arm keeps him steadily up, towering over you; the other cradles your soft cheek against his palm. His thumb strokes along your cheekbone. He’s gentle, smiling, even chuckling. “I’ve got you, baby,” he purrs in that deep, hoarse accent. “Shhh, darlin’. C’mon, lemme take care of ya.” 

“ Si…”

Your body stiffens as Simon gently slides himself into your pussy, until he’s buried balls deep; he lets out a breathless “fuck” as you tighten around his cock, followed by a low groan. “Perfect for me, aren’t ya?” He pauses, leaning to kiss you for a moment.

“That’s my good girl,” he mumbles against your lips, letting his tongue entangle with yours. “So fucking good for me.” 

His hips slap against yours at a slow, gentle pace—matching his thrusts. “C’mon, baby, fuck.” You whine in response, arching your back, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders while your pretty, teary eyes hold his gaze. 

“ Simon…! ” 

Simon chuckles, takes one of your hands in his, and flattens it against your lower stomach. “Feel that, love?” You gasp, nodding. There is an unmistakable bulge in your belly; you can feel it. “Aye, that’s me.” Your cunt takes him so unbelievably well; he cannot stop pistoning his cock in and out of you. 

God, he thinks, you were made for him.

You were fucking made for me. 

The only thing that could possibly be better than this is—

“Lemme make you a mum,” Simon suddenly says, groaning. “God, baby, need to make you one.” His fingers find your nipple, pinching it before rubbing it back and forth, causing you to squeal. “—make these pretty tits all swollen. You’d be so bloody gorgeous, love.” 

Simon wants a family, so fucking badly. He is beyond desperate for one  — ever since he looked into your eyes for the first time, and saw his future staring back. At the time, the feeling was confusing and disorienting….

…now, it all made sense.

“Yeah?” Mid-thrust, he kisses you again, swallowing your gasps and tiny whimpers as he splits you open on his cock. “You gonna let me make you a mum?” Another thrust. “C’mon, baby, use your words, my girl.” 

You nod, unable to muster up a response to your husband; instead, your mouth falls open—pretty, pink lips dropping into a perfect “o." “P-Please, Si…” your soft, little voice whines out, stirring up more heat in Simon. 

(He loves your voice. So bloody fucking much. You could ask him to raze the Earth to a burnt crisp, and he’d do it for you.) 

“Please what, baby?” 

The sensation of his massive cock overwhelms you. You fall slack as an orgasm rips through your body, robbing away all of your inhibitions; all you can do is let out another high-pitched moan, praying your body gives him the answer that your voice cannot. 

“Fuck — gonna breed you, baby. Gonna have my kid in you by the weekend.”

It’s a promise. His thrusts continue, in the exact same measure as before, not wanting to fuck you, but to make love to you. “You’re so bloody beautiful.” He’s gonna cum. Cum deep inside you; give you the family you deserve.

“Look at ya — bloody work of art.” 

Flushed cheeks; breasts sweaty and heaving with countless love marks scattered around the skin; your fingers card softly through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He’s a lucky bastard, indeed. 

“I love you."

Simon repeats those three words— “I love you. I love you. I love you.” —against your mouth, feeling his entire body tauten before he spills his cum inside you.

I love you. You saved me. You’re everything to me. 

You smile up at him, flushed all prettily, and he flashes a smile back, taking a moment to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. God, he fucking loves you.

“I love you,” he says again…and again…and again.

notes: my attempt at writing smut for the first time in months. if it sucks, it's cause im in my late luteal phase.

[x-prettyboy-x]

Hiii! Can you do an Erik Campbell x Pregnant!Reader, you can do it during the events of the film or not, as long as it has some angst with a happy ending :) If you do it during the events of the film: Erik, who cheated death from the tattoo parlor: As long as my girlfriend is okay and not on death's list, I would gladly die happy.

Reader who's pregnant with his child and hasn't told him yet: Uh...about that...

Unseen Events

Hello anon, i will try my absolute best. But I fear i may dissapoint, your request is my 4th time total posting fanfic on this platform😭🫶🏻

Pairing: Erik Campbell x Pregnant!FemReader

Warnings: spoilers for final destination bloodlines I guess, mentions of self unaliving and self harm but not.. in a depressing way? In a trying to save everyone way.. yk?

Contents: angst, me not really knowing how to write pregnancy, erik being a panicked bitch(affectionate), alternate universe where Erik is actually in the blood line, me being an Erik girl dad truther.

Wc; 1.4k

Masterlist

It felt like you'd been sitting in this bathroom for hours, when really it'd been maybe 30 seconds. Just standing and staring at the piece of white and blue plastic you'd just peed on and turned upside down on the bathroom sink. Thank god Erik was at work, he'd be outside the door losing his mind with how long you'd been in there. You got sick one time and he acted like you were dying.

After the longest 5 minutes of your life, you turned the test over. And came face to face with those clear as day pink lines. Those stupid fucking pink lines. You and Erik were careful, always. Except when you decided going to the tattoo shop with him was a good idea, and a client wanted her nipples pierced, one thing led to jealousy, and before you knew it he was closing the shop early and proving he only had eyes for you. Never anyone else. But you hadn't been safe. Of course not. Only your luck, the one time you dont use protection, you end up in this situation.

You wanted kids. You did, really. But you didnt know if Erik did, you two hadn't had that conversation yet. You had no idea how he'd react, and that's what scared you.

That was a month ago. You had this big plan to tell him, and then Iris died. Erik didn't seem to care much, but then his dad died too. How do you tell your boyfriend after two back to back funerals, "Hey, by the way. You're gonna be a dad. Oops"? No.

Things only got worse when the real situation set in. Everyone in Iris's bloodline was on deaths list. She cheated it, she was never meant to have kids, and now her entire bloodline was cursed because of it. Thanks Iris. Now not only am I pregnant and my boyfriend doesn't know, but my baby is stuck with some fucking death curse before its even born. Just perfect.

When Erik came home late rambling about how he'd cheated death, how he survived a fire in the tattoo shop, he was acting like it was nothing. Like your heart wasn't beating out of your fucking chest every minute that ticked by that he wasn't answering your texts.

"Look, its morbid but you're not in the bloodline, you're safe from all this, knowing that? I could die a happy fuckin man. Sucks I lost my favorite jacket though." He'd let out an over exaggerated sigh that made your annoyance only spike more.

Better time than any, I guess. You'd sighed to yourself, clearing your throat and sitting up on his bed, just trying to calm your breathing and willing your heart to stop beating so fast.

"Yeah, about that. I'm not in the bloodline, but I dont think I'm exactly.. safe." You'd started, and you could see the moment his cocky, joking look turned serious and confused, almost pissed off.

"The fuck are you talking about? Why wouldn't you be safe?"

"Kiki, I promise I planned on telling you, okay? But then Iris died, and then your dad and I just- I couldn't find a good time so I kept putting it off. I'm pregnant. I took the stupid test a month ago." You couldn't look at him, but you could see his feet as he started to pace back and forth from where you were staring down at your lap, picking at your nails.

"You didnt think maybe it was a good idea to tell me that the SECOND we found out about this fucking list? What if I had died today? We have no idea how this is gonna work out! You should've told me days ago!"

You could tell when Erik was pissed off, you'd seen it plenty of times when he came home from work complaining about a bitchy client or his boss he hated so much. This wasn't anger, this was panic.

"I know, I'm sorry-" you knew he wasnt angry at you, but your words came out shaky, your voice breaking as you felt tears threatening to fall. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

Erik let out a sigh and moved to kneel down in front of you, using two fingers to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didnt mean to yell I'm just.. scared. I didnt care if I died because I knew you'd be safe but now.." he shook his head before continuing, "We're gonna figure this out. Me and the others, we'll figure this out. Find a way to save everyone else on the list. I won't let anything happen to you or this baby, not while I'm living and breathing."

That was a few days ago. And time was running out. You wouldn't let Erik leave the house, ever. Never let him go anywhere alone, always watching over your shoulder for a cup about to fall or some water spilled on the floor somewhere. To say you were paranoid didnt even begin to cover it.

When Stefani, Bobby, Erik and Charlie had loaded into the rv with Darlene, going after some friend of Iris's, you'd begged to go. You didnt wanna let him out of your sight, but everyone involved refused to let you go. Acted like you were some damsel in distress just because you were growing a person. It pissed you off beyond belief. But that anger and frustration quickly became fear and unease as you watched them all drive off.

They made Julia stay with you, making sure you weren't freaking out too much or worse, got in your car and followed after them.

You thought the 5 minutes you waited for that pregnancy test was the longest wait of your life. Oh how wrong you were. Every second that ticked by while you waited to hear something, anything from Erik felt like it was taking years off your life. But nothing ever came. Not a call, not a text. Nothing.

After the longest hours of your life, you finally heard the rv pull back into the driveway, and you ran outside before Julia could stop you. You watched as Stefani, Charlie and Darlene stepped out of the rv, but no Bobby or Erik. The tears started to fall before you even had to time to fight them back, "what happened? Where are they?"

Darlene quickly walked over and gently took your hands into hers, "Hes okay. They both are. We found Iris's friend, he told us how to beat this. Erik had to.. die and come back. Truly cheat death, and everyone else on the list would be safe. He.. came up with this plan to kill himself in the hospital so they could bring him back. It was.. stupid but it worked. He flat lined, and they got him back. They're keeping him on a mental health hold because of course they dont believe the deaths list story, but he's okay. Bobbys with him now."

To say you wanted to scream at him for how stupid he was, how he could've died, how you could've never seen him again, how he could've never met his child was an understatement.

You demanded Darlene take you to the hospital to see him, and how could she argue after telling you something like that? Erik was sedated, apparently he'd tried fighting the doctors when they wouldn't let him leave, no shock there. His wrists were tightly wrapped and the sight made you sick to your stomach. Bobby looked just as sick.

They only kept Erik in the hospital for a few days, letting him out after some therapy sessions and deciding he was "no longer a threat to himself or others." You'd forgotten all about wanting to scream about how stupid he was when he wrapped his arms around you, whispered how much he loved you and how excited he was to be a dad. How could you yell at him after that?

You had a healthy baby girl in the winter, and Erik had never felt happier. Neither had you. Seeing him dress her every morning, refusing to let anyone hold her because he didn't want her to leave his arms, buying dumb baby band t-shirts for her.

He'd die over and over again if that's what it took to keep you and his little girl safe. He'd kill someone if he had to. He'd make sure this little angel in his arms would never know the fear of death, not while he was here to protect her from it.

[srslyblvck]

it's okay, tony stark

pairing: tony stark x teen!reader

synopsis: you get dusted after thanos' snap

genre: angst

word count: 0.9k

author's note: did i cry while writing this? yes i did

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE WORLD HAD NEVER felt so quiet.

It was a strange, suffocating silence that pressed down on Tony Stark as the battlefield stretched out before him, reduced to rubble, ash, and despair. The wind carried nothing but dust, and in that dust, he could see the remnants of everyone he had fought so hard to save.

He stood there, frozen, as Peter crumbled in his arms.

"Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good," Peter had whispered, fear etched into every syllable. Tony had held him tighter, hoping to keep him here, hoping that somehow, this wasn’t real. But Peter’s body had turned to dust in his hands, slipping away, just like everything else in Tony’s life.

Now, Tony was left holding nothing, his mind still screaming, No, not him. Not Peter.

But it wasn’t just Peter.

From the corner of his eye, Tony saw you—stumbling, your legs shaky, like the very earth beneath you had begun to give way. His heart clenched, a sickening panic rising in his chest.

"Kid," Tony rasped, rushing to you. He dropped to his knees just in time to catch you before you fell. His hands clutched your arms, and then pulled you into his chest, holding you close. "No, not you too. Not you. Please."

You were his family, the one he'd found when the world had been just as dark as it felt now. He remembered that day so clearly—stumbling upon a Hydra base, expecting only weapons or enemies, but finding you. A scared seven-year-old, huddled inside a small cabinet, shaking uncontrollably, clutching a teddy bear that was too worn to offer any comfort. You had flinched when he tried to reach for you, pushing yourself deeper into that small space, as if the shadows could protect you.

"It's okay," he had whispered back then, voice gentle, soft, as if speaking too loudly would break you. It had taken time—God, so much time—but you'd eventually come out, and Tony had made a silent promise. He would protect you, no matter what.

But now, he was failing. Again.

Tony felt your body tremble against him as you fought to stay, to hold on. But you couldn't. He saw it in your eyes, the same way he'd seen it in Peter's just moments before. He couldn't lose you. Not you. Not the kid he raised, mentored, cared for more than he ever let on.

You looked up at him, your face pale, your breaths shaky, and tears welled up in your eyes—tears that you were desperately trying to hold back. Tony knew you didn’t want him to see you break. You didn’t want him to see the fear, because if you broke, then Tony would break too. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

You offered him a small, fragile smile. A smile meant to comfort him, even though you were the one slipping away. "It's gonna be okay," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "You’ll find a way... I know you will."

Tony shook his head, his voice cracking as he mumbled, "No, no, no, don't... don't do this." He held you tighter, like somehow holding on would keep you here. "You're gonna be fine. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything, just—please." His voice broke into sobs that he couldn’t control.

You lifted a trembling hand to his cheek, wiping away a tear. Your smile faltered, but it didn’t fall. "Tony... it’s okay," you whispered.

You reached up, your hand shaking, and touched his face. Tony’s breath caught in his throat as he felt the warmth of your skin, the way your fingers trembled as if even that small movement was too much.

Tony shook his head violently, his throat burning as he held back the sobs that threatened to tear out of him. "No, don’t... don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me? You have to be fine."

But even as he said it, he felt you slipping away. The trembling in your body started to ease, but not because you were calming down. It was because you were fading.

The tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to make this harder for him. But Tony could see the truth—you were scared. You didn’t want to die.

You took one last shaky breath, your hand dropping from his face as your body began to dissolve, turning into dust that slipped through Tony’s fingers.

"Please," Tony begged, his voice raw, broken. "Please, don’t go."

But it was too late. You were already gone.

Tony knelt there, in the ruins of the world, staring at the empty space where you had been just moments before. His mind was spinning, his heart torn apart by the loss. First Peter. Now you. The two kids who had given him hope, the ones he’d sworn to protect, were gone. And he had failed.

He pressed his hands to the ground where you had been, his body shaking uncontrollably. The battlefield was quiet again, but this time it was unbearable. It was the silence of everything he had lost, everything he could never fix.

Tony could still hear your voice in his head, the last words you had spoken to him echoing in the hollow space of his heart.

"It’s okay."

But it wasn’t. None of this was okay. You were gone, and he couldn't protect you. He couldn’t stop this, and now you—his kid—were nothing but ash scattered in the wind. The weight of it all—the failures, the loss, the utter powerlessness—was crushing.

Tony buried his face in his hands, shaking uncontrollably. The tears wouldn’t stop, not now. Not when the one person who trusted him, believed in him, was gone.

All those years ago, you had been a broken, terrified child hiding in a cabinet, and Tony had promised to keep you safe. He had failed.

And this time, there was no fixing it.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Protector | Matt Rempe

wc. 2.1k

You decide to go on a first date on Valentine's Day but what happens when the date goes beyond horrible? You call your best friend to help save you from it.

warnings: really really mean date, mentions a concern for being drugged but nothing actually happens

So maybe going on a first date with a guy you’ve never met before on Valentine’s Day was not your best idea. 

The fomo of Valentine's day has been weighing on you ever since you were a teenager. You were far from the most popular kid in school and had little luck in the love department as you worked through college. Now freshly out of college, living in Manhattan and kicking off your career, you figured now was the time to start getting out there and going on dates. 

To say you have hated online dating ever since trying it would be an extreme understatement. It felt like you had been on hundreds of dates with zero success and tonight was no exception. 

Your date Paul was a bit older than you, unemployed at the moment and looking for a new relationship after just leaving his ex. He met up with you at this fancy restaurant you have never been to and has so far criticized everything about you. 

“Why would you order seafood?” Paul sneers, looking down at your dish. “It’s gonna make your breath smell and I don’t want to have to deal with that later.” 

You’re shocked at how you’re able to keep your face neutral, at least long enough to cough out some excuse that you needed to use the restroom. You grab your purse and your phone, excusing yourself before speed walking over to the bathroom. Once safely inside, you open your phone but pause directly afterwards. 

Who were you supposed to call? 

You were still fairly new to the city, your best friend still lives back home, college friends were either out with their partners or out at a bar, there didn’t seem like anyone could come to your rescue. You started to think through excuses to make to Paul but fall flat. 

Then, you do something you shouldn’t. You call him. 

Matt was just settling into his short break from the NHL. Granted he hasn’t played a ton of games, he still reveled in a break from the grueling schedule of hockey life in general. He knew he was due back to the rangers in less than a week but for now he was content in catching up on some reading and relaxing. 

Just as he’s settled into his couch, fantasy novel in hand, his phone goes off. He looks down, spotting your contact flashing on his screen and he sighs quietly. He remembers you mentioning a date for today but he can’t remember much past that. 

You and Matt have been friends for about a year now and Matt has had a crush on you for even longer than that. Damn near since he got drafted to the Rangers back in 2020. You had done some on and off work for the Rangers for a while now, a side hustle job that Matt wished was your full time one so he could see you more often. 

You were there the day he was drafted, stepping in for media/photos for the day and he had beat himself up for years following for not getting your number that day. When he saw you during his NHL debut it felt like fate was on his side and he made sure to introduce himself better this time. 

You’ve been close friends ever since but that only made Matt’s crush on you grow stronger. He always tried to play it off but time and time again of saving you, protecting you, was hurting his heart more and more. He promised he’d always be there for you but at what cost? His heart? 

Still, he picks up anyway. 

“Hello?” 

Your heart floods in relief at Matt’s familiar voice, a jump of butterflies adding to the mixture as well. 

“Oh thank god,” you release in a breath. “I really need your help.” 

Matt’s heart clenches at your words and he can’t help the way he’s already standing from his seat, walking over to where he keeps his keys. 

“This guy I’m on a date with is a total creep and now that I think about it I left my drink uncovered just now and I’m scared and he keeps making weird comments and-” 

“I’m on my way,” Matt interjects, anger flaring his words and you visibly relax at his response. 

You hang up the phone, shooting Matt a text with the address you were at and he tells you he’ll only be five minutes. You make your way back to the table where Paul is clearly unamused. 

“What? You have an emergency? You suddenly need to leave right this minute?” he asks sarcastically and you shake your head. 

“No I just-” you start but he’s quick to cut you off. 

“You know, a decent person would just tell someone that the date isn’t going well instead of making excuses. This is the worst date I’ve ever been on.” 

“Excuse me?” you snap, anger rising in your chest. You had been nothing but kind and polite this entire time and all he’s done is rip into you and you were done playing the sweet and demure girl. 

“Firstly, you pick this horrible restaurant. Then, you catfish me, lying about your weight and showing up looking like you just rolled out of bed. God and your personality! You-” 

His rant sends you into a spiral that causes you to freeze, unable to react in any way. Your brain blocks out his next words, not sure what to do next when the decision is taken out of your hands. You watch as someone steps up, grabbing Paul by the shirt and hauling him up from his chair. 

The minute Matt steps into the restaurant he spots you, your posture stiff and unwelcoming, something that sets him on edge instantly. He starts to walk over, his long strides making short work of the distance but when he hears your date's words it takes all of him not to start sprinting at him. 

“You are such an obnoxious little-“ Paul continues but Matt has him by the collar of his shirt and is pulling him out of his seat before he can finish the words. 

“Don’t you ever,” Matt’s voice snaps you out of your state and you stare as he pushes Paul backwards, effectively blocking him from you. “Speak to her or fuck even look at her again, or it will be the last thing you do.” 

Matt is breathing heavily like he just completed a 3 minute shift on the ice and is still staring down his opponent. He’s trying to tamp down his anger but he never realized what people meant about seeing red until this moment. This rat faced looking dick was saying these things to you? Oh Matt was gonna kill him. 

The restaurant is deafeningly silent after Matt’s words and you watch as Paul analyzes the situation before holding his hands up in surrender. Matt stares him down for another moment or two before turning towards you. 

Matt wants nothing more than to turn and lunge at Paul and beat him senseless but he knows you and your safety are the priority. He grabs your purse and jacket before taking your hand in his other free one and pulling you out of the restaurant. 

Matt drags you down the block before you finally pull him to a stop, the intensity of the moment still thrumming in your veins. Matt turns to face you, waiting for you to do or say something and you take a deep breath, running a hand through your hair. His heart leaps looking at you, wanting to pull you into his chest and hold you close so you know you’re safe but wanting to give you space to process what just happened. 

“Fuck darling you’re shaking,” Matt says finally and when you look at him you realize the adrenaline mixed with the cold February weather has you shaking like a leaf. He steps forward, wrapping you up in your jacket and his proximity makes you finally take a breath of relief. 

“Thank you for helping me,” you murmur quietly. Matt’s heart pounds at the words, a mix of anger, jealousy, and sadness rushing around inside of him. 

Matt lets out a heavy sigh and steps back with a curt nod of his head. His warmth leaves and you’re shivering again causing you to frown. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, “Let’s get you home.” 

It’s the only thing he can say at the moment, his heart and mind in turmoil. He would do anything to protect you, he knew that truth for the rest of his life. But he hates that that’s all he is to you. A protector. He needed it to stop before his heart gave out. He turns away from you and you can’t help but step back up next to him, wrapping your hands around his arm as he starts to walk. 

Matt wants to shake you off but the feeling of you next to him settles his heart in an instant and he steps closer to you as you make your way back to your apartment. The journey is short and your heart seems to have settled almost to a normal rhythm now that you’re home safe with Matt next to you. 

When you get to your door you unlock it and let Matt in without a word. He follows you slowly into the kitchen where you pour yourself a glass of water and just as you’re about to offer something to Matt as well, he starts to speak. 

“I should go,” he mutters awkwardly and you frown at his words. 

Matt knew that if he stayed here, comforted you, went as far as staying the night, the pattern would continue and his heart would stay stuck in this endless loop of hope and heartbreak. He had to get out now for the best. Even when everything else in him was screaming at him to stay. 

“Please stay?” 

“Why?” he cuts you off, stepping closer with an intensity that wasn’t there before. 

“Why?” you repeat, confused by his question. 

“I promised to keep you safe, and I kept my promise,” he snaps and your face twists to confusion. “I’m done here.”

Your heart splinters at each word, falling apart at the seams as he talks. Tears threaten to spill over, you watch as Matt takes in your expression, something unfamiliar flickering over his features before he turns away. 

Matt can feel that each movement in his body is beyond forced. He has to tell himself to turn, to take a step, take another step, not look back at you and so on. He can’t handle it. 

“Excuse me?” you snap and he pauses. “I’m not done with you.” 

You march over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to face you. He towers over you, his six foot nine inch frame should be intimidating but right now it’s just frustrating. He stands in front of you, motionless, his eyes finding purchase on something behind you. 

“Look at me,” you demand and his eyes flicker for a moment and you repeat yourself. Finally his chocolate brown eyes land on you and you instinctively take a breath. 

“You may think you’re keeping me safe and that you’ve done your job as my protector or whatever so now you get to leave,” you start and Matt stares at you with a blank expression. “But I only ever feel safe when you’re around.” 

“What?” he asks, shell shocked by your words. 

“I need you Matt,” you tell him quietly. “I need you here. I need you to keep me safe. I need you to help me I just, I fucking need you.” 

The look in your eyes is so vulnerable, so intense Matt can’t look away. He knows the underlying meaning to your words but he’s too scared to take the leap. He doesn’t want to be wrong. He can’t ruin this. 

“Matt,” you say, breaking his train of thought. “My love, you’re all I want.” 

That’s all Matt needs to hear before he’s finally stepping up to you, wrapping you up in his arms and hauling you to him so you’re face to face. His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss that has warmth spilling throughout you. 

Matt felt like he was flying. He knew he was always going to protect you, take care of you, keep you safe, love you. He never realized you depended on that truth as much as he depended on living it out. He was nothing if you weren’t safe. 

“I love you,” you whimper out quietly when you break apart. 

“I love you,” he responds, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

His promise is everything to the two of you and your heart settles gently in his hands, him handing over his as well. 

[avtrbee]

the prince

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig

✢ a/n: i’m not gonna lie to you guys, i know i’ve been a while and im really ashamed that i come back with something that i believe this isn’t my best work at all. i had this prompt in my head for a long time and i have wanted to publish this ever since. always love hearing from all of you and i’d like to get some feedback as well <33

You were a clan kid fortunate enough to be born with the clan’s cursed technique but unfortunate enough to be a woman. Your childhood tutors had drilled the duties of wives in your head, and had made you comfortable with the idea of an arranged marriage. You pride yourself as a good traditional daughter, whose greatest honor would be marrying your husband.

Never in your life did you imagine yourself caring for a child that is not yours.

That was, of course, until you met your husband.

You have heard of Gojo Satoru before and fought him a few times during sister-school events, but never in your life did you think he’d be who you were destined for. Still, he surprised you.

“You are my wife, my equal,” he promises you at the night of your wedding. The ceremony was over and the guests have gone home. You have said your vows in front of the gods and they have bounded you to this man.

He drags you off to bed and makes you sit on the floor with him.

Satoru looks at you with the moon shining on him making him look like an ethereal god. And to you, he was. Which is why you tilt your head at his statement. “Gojo-sama, I do not understand-”

“Satoru,” he says. “I am your husband, you should call me by my name y’know.” His voice is light and teasing, underplaying the reality of the situation. “I don’t want a slave. I want a confidant. A partner. I need someone. Do you understand?”

You nod. Strangely you do. “We must protect each other.”

You were both very lonely people thrust into a union none of you asked for. There are targets on your backs for sins you cannot control. You were alone, but not anymore.

Your husband nods and he takes his glasses off. You realize for the nth time that Satoru is a pretty, pretty man. His blue eyes shine and twinkle like the stars above.

He reaches for your hand- a strange gesture but you allow it anyway. “I will do right by you,” he promises. In his mind he remembers his mother, the one who loves too much but is loved so less. Like her, Satoru’s marriage is arranged by the clan. But he will not be his father.

He is a man of his word.

The next morning you find yourself waking to an empty bed with a smell of burning food. You catch your husband defeated before the stove with burnt scrambled egg on the table. “This is what couples do, right?”

You stare at him, simply horrified that you had failed to wake up first. You were supposed to cook him breakfast, not the other way around.

Satoru catches your expression. “Hey! It’s not that bad!” He pokes the pathetic excuse of a scrambled egg. His mother had always cooked for the family, it shouldn’t have been this hard. “…right?”

You ban him from your kitchen.

He takes you to the school next. You walk behind him, as is the norm, but Satoru makes a face that pushes you to stay beside him. His voice echoes in your head, you are my wife, my equal.

The weather was perfect, but he fusses about the fact that you decided to wear a sleeveless sundress that he deems inappropriate for the wind.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“Yes, Satoru.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow suspiciously, like he does not believe you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his. His face morphs to an expression of victory. “Ha! Your hands are cold. You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.” He spits, but his voice lacks venom. You pretend to ignore his poor excuse to hold your hand. Deep inside you like it. Romance is for fiction and some anime you were lucky enough to watch. A distinguished member of your the Gojo clan does not deserve it, but your husband is a romantic.

He stops you from walking out of the shade of the trees and into the sunshine. He opens his tote bag and points to a closed umbrella. “Do you need this? To protect you from- y’know.”

His points up to the sun.

Against your will you find his needless worrying endearing. He does not know his role as a husband well, but he is trying. When you finally arrive inside the Tokyo school, his hand is still clasped in your. Satoru is loud and proud when he introduces you to everyone, even if you have done nothing to deserve such pride. His co-workers pity you for being married to him and offer their condolences. Satoru protests strongly.

“Y/N loves spending time with me!” he says, stomping his feet like a child. He tugs your hand and looks at you in support. “Right?”

You smile and nod. You do. You wonder if you may love him someday.

-

The night is dark, and Satoru is not home yet. It has been a slow 8 months since your marriage. The ladies from your clan were wrong. Your husband is not cruel. He does not scold you if you use your cursed technique even when you accidentally use it on him.

You have never been someone good with words, so you decide to bake him a simple carrot cake. Your husband has a sweet tooth and he has a penchant of liking things better if it came from you.

You had only just finished adding icing the cake when you felt Satoru’s cursed energy through the door. You take a look at your cake one last time before heading towards the door to greet him.

Traditionally a wife must wait for her husband to enter in the middle of the room kneeling for supplication- a tradition most ingrained in your head more than most. As a compromise, Satoru suggested to have you greet him by the door instead because- “The first thing I want to see when I get home is your cute face. Obviously.”

You dust off imaginary crumbs off your hands by wiping it on your pants before sliding the door open.

“Welcome ho-”

In front of you, Satoru looks cold. You wonder if this is how others see him. He looks down at you with a cold gaze, He does not tremble. There is a child in his arms.

Both child and Satoru looks at you with twin cold eyes. You shiver. “He’s mine.”

You hear maids scuffle from behind you, but you do not care. The child innocently rests his cheek on Satoru’s shoulder looking at you.

There is no doubt the child is his. Your husband’s hair is on his head and dear god- their eyes. They have the same eyes.

In your head you hear the ladies of your clan again. Stand tall, Y/N. They may have their mistresses, but you will always be his true wife.

Of course you knew about Satoru’s womanizer past- present. Are you upset? Are you angry? You do not know, truly. You are simply confused.

Your clan’s ladies have prepared you for worst; what to do when your husband brings home another woman, what to say if they came home violent, where to go if you are too broken and beaten to sleep beside him. But what if your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

There is a pain in your chest you do not understand. This is expected! Men cannot be held down by just their wives. Did you expect him to be different? A cold fury washes over you

“Welcome home.” You finish instead.

-

check out my masterlist, and don’t forget to lmk how i can improve this fic <33

[chukys-mouthguard]

look but don’t touch

2.7k words

featuring -> arber xhekaj x female reader (florian xhekaj also included)

genre -> angst, fluff, suggested smut - bar fight with protective arber standing up for his girlfriend when a drunk man tries hitting on her

note -> not proofread, been trying to get this posted for daysss, and wanted something up for y’all since it’s been a bit :)

The evening's plans weren’t anything crazy; a night out at the bar with Arber, Florian joining as he was still in Montreal competing for a possible roster spot. The opportunity to hangout with Arber and Florian was never one you’d turn down, as Florian had become your best friend next to his brother of course. Plus, anytime you got the two Xhekaj boys together you were surely in for an exciting night.

“Now boys, let’s just keep this a peaceful night out okay?”

You had each of the boys on your arms, joking as nights out with them usually resulted in some sort of drama. Both of them rolled their eyes as they reassured you that all the previous times weren’t their fault, because why would they ever admit to starting a fight? Only ever admitting to finishing them.

The bar was one you and Arber frequented, liking that he wasn’t usually recognized and you were able to enjoy a night out without loads of fans crowding him. Florian, being a younger guy in the organization, didn't have much of a following, so he passed as just another average Joe among the crowd of people. Though sometimes you wished they’d get recognized a bit more to get some free drinks out of it to lessen the hurt when you checked your tab at the end of the night. But if you had to weigh the pros and cons, you would choose them not being recognized over free drinks any day.

It gave you the freedom to dance with Arber and do as much PDA as you pleased. Not having to worry about cameras in your faces or people running to Twitter to share things about the two of you.

Arber ordered the first round of drinks, he and Florian both opting for beer while you preferred your go-to Tito’s and lemonade. Which Arber made sure to get with light ice and a slice of lemon, exactly how you liked it.

“Thank you baby.”

You smiled up at him as you traded him your card for the drink, the usual routine for nights out when Arber didn’t want to be recognized. He’d always pay you back for whatever the tab was the next day, but some nights he just preferred to avoid the chance of the bartender looking at his card and recognizing his name.

“Promise we won’t go too crazy tonight sweetheart.”

Arber smiled as he kissed your head, his hand lightly tapping against your ass playfully as you just shrugged sipping your drink.

The three of you found a high top table off to the back of the bar, enjoying people watching and just enjoying your drinks. Never being dance floor people when it was the three of you, especially considering Arber and Florian were brothers. The last thing you wanted was to be grinding on Arber while staring Florian in the face.

“Arber, your fight is getting ready to start.”

Florian gestured towards one of the flatscreens hung behind the bar. A UFC fight that Arber had been looking forward to all week long was being previewed. He smiled from ear to ear as they showed his choice to win getting ready to head to the ring.

“That’s my boy, he’s gonna win by a knockout. I’m calling it now.”

Bringing his beer to his lips you just shook your head, never much of a UFC fan, though you’d watch occasionally along with Arber.

As you finished off your first drink, your eyes went wide as you heard a familiar song begin to blare through the speakers.

“Florian, you’re kidding, we have to.”

Turning to Florian, his beer bottle frozen against his lips, you smiled like a fool as you waited for him to realize what was playing.

“Oh my god, no way. Let’s go!”

Florian chugged the rest of his beer before he took your hand, following you through the crowd as you found a spot for the two of you.

Charli xcx’s 360 was blasting throughout the bar, a change of pace from the typical music they played, but you and Florian didn’t mind. The song being one the two of you constantly sang together and were obsessed with. Arber simply watching was a smile as he laughed at how ridiculous the two of you were.

He’d never had to question Florian with you, knowing that your relationship was strictly friendly. If ever just the two of you, Florian even would act as your boyfriend to keep you safe from any drunk idiots that would try to have their way with you. So Arber didn’t bat an eye when your hands held his or your arm wrapped around his neck as you jumped up and down to the beat. Knowing it meant nothing, recognizing you were safe with his brother, he headed to find a seat at the bar to watch the UFC fight.

The song had come to an end and you were in desperate need of a drink, Florian staying behind to chat someone up on the floor.

“Tito’s and lemonade please.”

You smiled at the bartender as you found a spot comfortably next to Arber, seeing his eyes fixated on the UFC fight, but his hand lightly grazed yours to acknowledge you next to him.

“Can I get that for you?”

Your smile faded as you looked to your right, a drunken man smiling from behind his beer bottle as he gestured towards your glass.

“No, it’s okay. Honest.”

He chuckled as he scooted closer to you, glancing over his shoulder before he leaned in to whisper to you.

“You know, I saw you on the dance floor. And I think you really should find yourself an older man. That boy surely doesn’t know how to please you.”

Now you were the one laughing, knowing he’d meant Florian. The man clearly oblivious to the fact of who your boyfriend actually was, because if he knew he wouldn’t dare make a move on you.

“Trust me, you don’t want to go there, okay?”

“What, that punk is gonna do something? He probably couldn’t even land a punch. Get you a real man who can actually defend you baby girl.”

Shaking your head you glanced towards Arber, his eyes focused on the UFC fight but his jaw was clenched. Letting you know that he had overheard everything, but so far he felt you were handling your own.

“I’m just warning you, making comments like that, it’s not gonna end well for you.”

“What’s that punk gonna do about it huh?”

The man leaned in, his hand reaching for yours as his face was inches from you. The smell of alcohol on his breath repulsed you as you leaned back. Arber immediately turned to catch the moment, an arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into his chest.

“He’s not gonna do shit, but I will, how about that? You feeling tough now, big guy?”

A slight smile came across your lips as you could see the regretful look on the drunken man’s face as he realized he’d likely bit off more than he could chew.

“Hiding behind your girl huh? Very big of you. You weren’t opposed to sharing her on the dance floor, how about sharing her with me for the night. I promise I won’t bite, unless she likes that.”

A disgusting smirk came across the man’s lips as he reached out to tuck some hair behind your ear, Arber immediately standing up as he moved you behind him. Florian running from across the bar as he’d caught the tail end of things, making sure you were okay before he’d joined Arber. The two of them staring down the drunken man and his friends.

“Don’t you fucking touch her. I’ll put you on your ass in front of everyone in this bar and show them what a fucking loser you are.”

“You and your little sidekick here?”

The guy chuckled, looking at Florian and immediately underestimating him as he looked like an eighteen year old that you’d dragged along to be your designated driver.

“What’s the deal here huh? You guys both banging her? Or does he do the work and you just watch?”

Before Florian could spew his comeback, Arber’s fist connected with the drunken man’s jaw. Sending him stumbling into the arms of his friends as he grabbed at his face.

“God dammit Arber.”

Florian rolled his eyes, wishing that Arber would’ve left things alone. You tried to reach for Arber and pull him away, the last thing either of these boys needed was to get in trouble for a bar fight. That surely would jeopardize a roster spot for them.

But before you could get Arber’s attention, one of the drunken man’s friends sent Florian stumbling to the ground with a right hook.

“Fuck.”

You cursed to yourself as you knew things would surely be escalating from here, Arber never one to back down from a fight. Especially when Florian was involved. He didn’t even bother looking at his brother, knowing he’d get back to his feet and be fine, he’d taken worse punches in his day.

You kept your distance, not wanting to get in the middle as Arber grabbed the drunken man by his shirt, landing a right hook as the man’s friends tried to get in on the action. Florian quickly stepped in and pulled them off of Arber as you watched security quickly making their way over towards the chaos.

“Florian, grab him, we gotta go. Now!”

Florian wrapped his arms around Arber’s, pinning them behind his back as he pulled him away from the group of drunken men. The three of you heading for the door before security could get close enough to identify you, disappearing into the crowd as they had turned their attention to the men left bloody at the bar.

While you appreciated Arber standing up for you, it was a series of events you knew could’ve and should’ve been avoided. The idea of him and Florian jeopardizing their positions with the team because of a dumb bar fight was something you hoped wouldn’t become a reality. Hopefully you’d left the bar before anyone was able to identify the boys or worse take any photos or videos of the altercation.

The drive back to you and Arber’s shared apartment was quiet. Florian lectured Arber a bit which was an interesting change of pace, simply telling him he can’t be so impulsive, regardless if the guy was out of line or not. You knew you didn’t have to say anything to either of them, but you’d still take the opportunity to give Arber your two cents when you were alone at home. Which he was trying to calm himself down for so that he didn’t blow up on you or impulsively react negatively towards you.

“Alright, ice that hand a bit. Try to clean up as best you can, coach is surely gonna ask about that tomorrow. Y/n, you have my permission to give him hell in there.”

You laughed as you rolled your eyes, climbing from the back seat of Florian’s truck as you wrapped an arm around Arber’s.

“How about you worry about hiding your black and blue jaw Florian? Good night!”

You smiled at him as you pulled Arber towards the doors of your apartment building. His expression was anything but amused, his pulse still beating a bit fast as he was trying to relax but the whole event had him furious.

The ride in the elevator was quiet, his hand holding tight to yours as his thumb traced circles over your skin. Usually the only thing he could muster when he was angry, never able to be cold towards you completely.

He headed right for the bathroom once inside the door, knowing you’d follow and pull out a first aid kit to assess the damage while also giving him shit. But he never took offense, he knew it was wrong to be getting in bar fights, no matter if he thought it was warranted or not.

“So, we’ve got cut up bloody knuckles. A nice black eye forming here, a slight cut lip. I’d say it’s not the worst I’ve seen you walk away with.”

A soft smile appeared on your lips as you began to dig through the first aid kit. Arber watched you as he clenched his fist, trying to ignore the pain he felt. His anger finally subsided, an apologetic look in his eyes and you looked up at him. Your hand moving to tilt his face away from you as you cleaned up his lip.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re mad.”

You sighed as you shook your head, digging back through the kit as you turned your attention to his hand.

“I’m not mad Arber, I just don’t think you two needed to get wrapped up in something like that. I mean, you have to set an example for Florian. And bar fights, that’s an easy way for you to lose your spot and for him to earn a bad reputation right out of the gate. I just, I need you to think before you throw a punch next time.”

Arber winced as you cleaned his knuckles, trying to maintain his tough guy image despite the pressure against his cut up skin with the alcohol soaked gauze.

“You want me to just sit back while a guy disrespects you like that? Puts his hands on you? Fuck that. He opened his mouth so I had to put him in his place.”

His frustration began to slightly build up once more, replaying the words spoken by the man in his head along with the image of him touching you. Arber took a deep breath as he knew it was no use getting worked up over it all again.

“Or, you could’ve simply given him your two cents, and walked away. Because now how are you and Florian going to explain these bruises to the coaches tomorrow? You two fought each other drunk?”

He watched as you packed up the first aid kit with a sigh, his hand moving to tuck some hair behind your ear behind caressing your cheek.

“I’m sorry, I know you were trying to stop things from getting to that point tonight. I just can’t help that I love you so much. The sight of another man touching you, or hearing them talk to you like that asshole did, just made my blood boil.”

Your eyes shifted from the first aid kit to meet Arber’s, seeing the apologetic look in his eyes as he smiled softly.

“I’m happy to know you love me so much you’d fight someone for me, but as much as I like the sight of you a little roughed up, I prefer you without a scratch on you babe.”

Your hands tangled in his hair as you moved to stand between his thighs while he sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“Oh come on, you love me with my battle scars.”

His hands slid up your thighs, resting on your ass as he playfully smacked it, biting his lip as he stared up at you.

“Mmm, I do love them. Except they make it a little hard to kiss you when your lip is busted.”

Arber licked his lip, gauging the size of the wound with his tongue.

“I think we could manage not to make it any worse. Plus, I think I deserve a little thank you for being your knight in shining armor tonight don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head, Arber’s hands moving from your ass to your hips as his fingers dipped below the hem of your shirt to tickle your skin.

“You sure you don’t want to call Florian? Since apparently you guys share me?”

You laughed as you headed into your shared bedroom, discarding your top before climbing onto the bed. Arber playfully gagged as he followed behind you, one hand caressing your cheek as he kissed you, the other working on the button and zipper of your jeans.

“Baby, if you’re trying to turn me on, don’t ever fucking mention my brother getting to do anything sexual with you. We both know I’d never share you with anyone let alone my brother.”

[ilylovelyz]

papa!atsumu who proves time and time again that he's a huge sucker for his precious family.

the pregnancy of his girlfriend (you), was unplanned and somewhat expected, being atsumu have not been being safe with you for the past few weeks.

the two of you were young, barely even 25, you had thought that atsumu would be against it, wanting independence and that delicious feeling of no baggage.

and yet, when he found out you were pregnant, he was over the moon.

it was almost surprising, best care scenario was him saying, "oh cool," — you didn't expect him to scoop you into his arms bridal style and kiss you all over.

it seemed he loved the idea of being a father, and especially being the father to your children, his adorable highschool sweetheart.

he was quick to tell his brother first, and then the rest of his family, and whichever close friends he had, nonstop yapping about how he was gonna be a dad, and how he's gonna have such cute kids.

he immediately brings up the idea of getting married to you, it wasn't a foreign topic for the both of you, it was just something the two of you never got around to doing.

he didn't mind it he had to elope and have a small get together, he just wanted to see you have his last name, liking the way it rolled off his tongue, "miya y/n."

during your entire pregnancy, he was nonstop hovering and touching your stomach, getting excited whenever he felt the baby's kick.

it almost seemed he talked to the baby more than he talked to you at some point, either rambling on about his day or crap-talking his own brother.

it was almost refreshing, to see a new side of this once carefree guy.

now, he was wanting to spend more time with you at home, sometimes skipping practice just to be with you, saying that he'll just "practice from home."

he just wanted to lay his head into your lap, his arms wrapped around your waist as he whispered sweet nothings to your unborn baby.

it was almost endearing to see him become especially 10x more protective of you, giving a death glare to anyone that came too close to you. never failed to say how amazing you looked pregnant with his baby.

while he wasn't sure what he wanted to name the baby, he just knew he wanted it to sound "cool".

god, you wish you took a picture of the look on his face when you told him you weren't just having one baby, but two. you thought maybe that fact would get him scared, but once again, you were proven wrong.

"two for the price of one, how cool," he would say, his hand cradling his chin as he thought.

"atsumu, that's not how it works.."

he wanted both a girl and a boy, a girl because he liked the idea of a mini you, and a boy just so he would do "boy" things with.

he did look a little nervous when it was revealed you were having two girls instead.

your pregnancy cravings made him do a double-take, but he would always end up watching you with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised with shock at whatever concoction you made.

he was almost late for the birth.

he frantically cursed at whoever was in his way while speeding on the way to the hospital, cursing the damn geezers who were still for some reason driving like they were in slow motion.

he felt really mad at himself for being late to the labor, kissing your sweaty forehead as he mumbled promises against your skin, promising to make it up to you later.

he was really supportive during the birth, his hand never leaving yours, yelling bouts of encouragement and never once complained when your grip became a little too tight for his liking because if anything, he was impressed at your strength.

he couldn't help but shed a tear or two when he first held his baby-girls.

how precious, maybe a little alien looking, but still precious.

he cursed to hell, cheekily making a comment about how someone must've been cutting onions.

absolutely adored his girls, showing them off to anyone who had working eyes. nothing made him happier than when they giggled at the silly faces he would make.

as they got older, their preference for their father showed greatly, and atsumu knew this very well, making a snide comment or two about how he was the "favorite".

the carefree man you once knew was gone, now being replaced with this protective and almost anxious guy who cried when his daughters first went to daycare.

your daughters for sure took after their father in many ways, as they somehow inherited their father's sassy attitude and confidence.

it never failed to make you laugh when atsumu was being mercilessly ganged up on by two toddlers, taunting him ruthlessly.

he'd try his best to counter their sassiness, but would ultimately find himself "wondering" where they got this attitude from.

oh, how he loved his daughters greatly, even when they were bullying him until he was red in the face, even when they were nasty and sick and borderline contagious with whatever illness they had.

he adored his daughters, never wanting to waste a single moment away from them. cuddle time was a special time to him, one on either side of him as they all drifted to sleep, disney movie long forgotten.

no, he'd never fail to say it, nor would he ever shy away from the fact that he's a proud father to his precious baby-girls.

[stwinsgstdrop]

Chapter 3.

Wide Toothy Grin

Being greeted with a crossbow by his estranged brother as soon as he stepped foot on his porch had not been on Stanley's bingo card, but he guessed that, given his luck and tendency for trouble, he should've expected something of that sort. They'd never been the most conventional people, after all.

What he could not have accounted for despite his many, many experiences with bad luck, monsters, weird stuff and his line of work, was Ford's apparent pet project of getting himself entangled with mystical forces of the beyond and being manipulated into building a fucking portal to bridge the gap that protected humanity from such entities.

Now, Stanley wasn’t one to judge. Once he willingly let himself be enchanted by a siren to win a bet over a coworker. Best 20 bucks ever gotten, despite the bite and scratch scars. And he did get the directions they needed, so fuck you, Cory. Anyways, the point is. He usually could aknowledge that in regards to morals and stupid decisions, he had absolutely no leg to stand on.

But this was beyond his stupid bad decisions.

This made his escapades with sirens and secret meddling with the fae and dark folk seem child's play. And apparently his darling twin hadn’t even known what he was getting into.

Fucking hell.

Ford was supposed to be the better version of him; to be living the dream, in his fancy house in the woods, cataloguing weird stuff in the weird city. Not getting entangled with fucking eldritch dudes. That was very much a Stanley coded decision, not a Stanford.

For once, Stanley had the metaphorical higher ground.

And it did not feel good.

So he lashed out. That was his thing, after all. Push all that fear, worry, hope and useless sentimentality WAY down and pull out the anger. Anger was useful.

"How could you do something THIS stupid?!" He yelled, barely containing his rage. "You're supposed to be the smart one, Stanford! And now what? You think hiding this book away's gonna do ANYTHING? You haf'ta be fucking kidding me!"

That was the least unking of the things he'd said, his mouth spewing venom he didn't even known he had in him. He couldn't believe his brother.

He also couldn't believe himself. What, had he really expected reconciliation? For fuck's sake, hadn’t he had that hope beaten outta him already? Multiple times, even? He'd given up! Made himself a life! He'd made, if not friends, at least allies! He'd been safe!

But no, he just HAD to put it all in jeopardy because his twin sent him a postcard with two words. Two fucking words, no explanation. In big bold scratchy letters that looked nothin' like Sixer's pretty cursive. And the worst part was, get this: it was a good thing that he actually did come! Because clearly his fucking lunatic of a brother would've broken the goddamn universe!

He was ready to set fire to the god forsaken journal and slap his brother out of whatever drugs he was on, but then...

Then, Stanford cried.

"I don't KNOW!" Ford screamed back, eyes glistening with tears, red from his manic haze and terror. "I don't KNOW! I didn't know! I didn't, I swear!"

And Goddammit, if Stanley' reflex response wasn’t still intact. In a single second he was there, holding his brother as he sobbed. All of his anger, betrayal and disappointment washed away like shells in the sand. He was numb, staring as his brother unravelled in a way Stanley had never seen before.

"I thought he was my friend- I swear, I didn’t mean-" Ford's knees buckled, and Stanley held him, softening the fall. It wasn’t as if Stan had never seen his brother cry. Quite the contrary. Ford had been the biggest crybaby ever, getting emotional over the smallest of things. But this... this was different. Raw, bleeding, actual desperation and terror. "He tricked me, Stanley. He told me he was a muse, and I- I never- It was supernatural! We've always wanted to see this sort of thing, that was my passion! He promised to help, and I- I couldn’t-"

Stanford sobbed, interrupting his own line of thought.

"Hey pal, uh. It's okay. It's okay, don't- Don't cry, please. It's okay." Stan said, awkwardly trying comfort his twin.

Ford grasped at Stanley's jacket, pulling him close and burying his face in it as he sobbed. Stanley could barely make out what he was saying between the cries and muffled words.

"'m sorry I never- You were- t-there, and I- I didn't-" He wailed into Stanley, who could only hold him and hope this would pass soon. "Please don't leave again. Please, please, I don't have anyone anymore. Please."

Ford unplugged his face from Stan's chest only to keep pleading, but now with added eye contact. His eyes were red as red as a junkie's, maybe worse.

"Okay, I won't, it's okay!" Promised Stanley, pushing his brother to a better dignified position. "You're okay, Sixer. 'M here, okay? You're fine."

But instead of calming down, it only made Ford burst into tears again. Stanley groaned and pushed him back into his chest, hushing Ford like their mother used to do to him after Pa- after a hard day.

It wasn’t easy a task to alternate between coaxing and dragging to get Ford out of the god forsaken lab. Ford stumbled, at first, swaying even with Stanley's aid, head lolling like it wasn’t properly attached. It was the longest elevator ride of Stanley's life.

And, because they couldn't have progress without doubling the challenge, Ford slumped and heaved as soon as the doors opened. Stanley was at his side in a heartbeat, keeping his brother from faceplanting into his own disgusting fluids. It was just bile and brown liquid.

"Damn Ford, when was the last time you ate somethin?" He asked, hauling his brother up again. Ford groaned, but it sounded so unmanly Stan decided it was a whimper.

"Had... C-coffee..." Said Ford. Better yet, exhaled. Like when someone punches you in the gut but you gotta have the last word before falling over.

Stan huffed a laugh and shook his head in disaproval. It took a few minutes, but eventually Stanford managed the difficult task of pointing at what door was his room, and they made their way there.

To the surprise of absolute 0 people but disappointment of one exasperated Stanley, Ford had nothing that was both clean and weather apropriate to wear. Stanley himself had lived in simmilar conditions, but for fuck's sake, he'd SEEN Ford's washing machine. This man was simply not functional.

"Damn Ford, your clothes are all disgusting. Do you EVER wash 'em?" Stan asked, skimming to find something at least wearable. Some clothes were torn, others smelly enough that even Stanley knew better than to touch. Some, however, were bloody.

Stanley eyes his brother, whose eyes were unfocused and teary, still sniffling from time to time.

He sighed. His duffel bag it was, then. Stan walked towards the stairs that he was fairly sure would get him to the front door and his car, but was stopped before even leaving the room by Stanford's strangled cry and a thud. Turning around, he was greeted by the sight of his genius twin faceplanted on the ground, six fingered hand grasping weakly at Stan's pants.

"Wh... Where'r you..." He slurred. Stan stared, eyes fixated on Stanford's slumped form. "...said you- said you'dn't... leave..."

It was funny.

Ford looked like a dumb schmuck who drank himself to oblivion, but Stan couldn't bring himself to say it. To tease, or play, or make light of it.

It was very funny, in an ironic sorta way.

Stan had always imagined how things would've gone had Ford intervened that summer night. Had dreamed of hearing the words 'don't leave' coming from someone who wasn’t a damn officer or loan shark. Coming from Ford.

He had half a mind to just. Get back to his car and leave. Report the incident to his superiors, explain the situation. With a case like this, Stanley's infraction could easily be forgotten or at least pushed back until it was solved. He could even squeeze in a reward.

What, it's not like he owed Ford this. NOW, he asks Stan to stay? Really? How convenient.

He should do this. It'd be easy. Leave Ford to whatever this was and find his way back to HQ. It was a solid plan.

The decision was made. Stanley knelt down and held Ford's hand, untangling it from the edge of his pants. Ford let go and held Stan's hand instead, lacing their fingers together. Ford's hand was cold, and his eyes fixed on Stan's.

"You're... warm." Ford said, thumb circling Stan's knuckles. "Missed... missed ya', Lee."

.

..

...

Gently and slowly, Ford was lifted back to a sitting position and leaned against the wall.

"'M gonna be right back. Gotta get ya somethin' decent to wear. Alright?"

Ford blinked his eyes in motion of a nod. Stanley smiled and stood back up. 'S not like he was serious anyways. He wasn't a total douche, after all. His brother needed help, so he'd help.

On his way to the car, he stopped to notice how filthy and cold the cabin was. There were papers everywhere, absolutely no usable silverware or cutlery. The air was almost as cold as it was outside, and there were splatters of blood hidden in the corners.

He found a tooth near the kitchen cabinets and stopped to inspect. Were they growing here? They weren't supposed to grow in this part of the country, not without something atracting them. He didn’t have enough salt to deal with that right now, but he checked anyways.

Nope. Empty of teeth. And of food. Just his luck. At least it wasn’t a teeth growth case. Last time's consequence had been... horrible. His cheeks and gums still ached from time to time.

Fortunately, Stan had a few canned goods supplied in his car. He pocketed what he now supposed was Ford's tooth and made his way outside. The blizzard was still going strong, the wind ruffling wetly through his hair and face. Stan hated the cold.

The generator was turned off, of course, so Stanley first dealt with that. He had a few helpful tools to make the thing cooperate, and only one required his blood to work.

That done, he picked his bag from the back of the car and chose the canned ingredients for an improvised stew. He hoped Ford wasn't keeping kosher, because Stan only had pork on him.

Placating the panicked Sixer who had started hyperventilating again in his absence was an added extra step before coaxing him into taking a shower. He picked something warm and soft for Ford. God only knows how long he'd spent in those clothes, because Stanley had to peel them from him.

While Ford tried to avoid dissolving in the water, Stan got to work.

He started cleaning the kitchen so he at least has space to make something for the both of them. Turned on the thermostat, and, just to be sure, checked under the couch for possible teeth growth. Luck was in his favor, for once.

Stew was an obvious choice, since it was simple. Chop up his canned goods, add water, salt, eat. It wasn’t going to be fancy, and maybe not even tasty, but it was better than 3 days of straight up coffee (or another blood sacrifice). He set everything on the pot and let it boil.

In the meanwhile, he checked on that journal again. Ford had mentioned others 2, so he supposed not all of his brother's ails could be explained in this one, but having a look wouldn’t hurt. What he found was a detailed description of differing level case threats and a few harmless ones. His glasses were in the car and he wasn’t about to face the weather again, so he had to content himself with just skimming and hoping to find bigger illustrations. He snorted when he realized his brother's handwriting hadn’t changed at all.

His musings were interrupted when an ungodly amount of steam was released from the bathroom, following Ford's steps towards the kitchen. Stanley put away the journal and started serving the stew.

Ford looked no less mopey, but he did look aware. Their conversation didn't add anything of importance from what he'd already been told except for the information that the entity tormenting his twin was called Bill. Fucking William. How many Williams was he supposed to go against in a single lifespan, for fuck's sake? And he could possess Ford's body at any time.

Well. Only when Ford slept. That explained the coffee.

Luck striked again, as Stanley had just the perfect solution for that. He'd have to remember to use some salt to exorcise himself though, because with a life like his, being lucky twice on a day is totally a huge red flag.

Ford almost got too nervous, but Stanley managed to get him just calm enough to let his buddy babysit the back of his mind. Ford was technically not breaking any contract, since this was a cathegory C involuntary possession. William, the interdimensional loan shark, would not be able to apply punishment to this development.

And with someone already possessing Ford, Dream Loan Shark wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Specially because dream eaters had the irritating – but highly useful, in this situation – habit of scrambling their host's mind on the surface. Nothing too major either. If someone like Stanley could survive it without major consequence to his brain, someone with a powerful mind like Ford would probably do good. Hell, maybe even come back better!

"What the hell did you just do?" Rasped Ford, in a sad attempt to yell. He swayed, and Stan was there to balance him in an instant.

"Woah, there, Six. 'S alright, they're just feeding on your tiredness." Stan said, examining Ford's overall demeanor. He couldn't place if the spook was caused by the ritual or the usual dread that settles after one.

"Who are 'They', Stanley? What did you DO?!" Ford actually managed to yell this time, eyes wide and  haunted.

It was quite simple, really. But he couldn’t expect Ford to put it all together in his state. Before anything,  Stan had to put him to sleep and then work on the next steps. Sleep eaters were harmless once you got them to like you, and Ford wouldn’t be getting any likeable without some good ol' sleep, so Stan did the right thing and put his brother to rest on the couch, tucking him like a little petulant child.

Ford took a while to stop whining over Stan's little ritual, but eventually got the jist of it. Stan did remember how Ford liked to be tucked in - all encapsulated by warmth, with no passage of cold air inside the covers, like a little chrysalis. Once you got 'im there he didn’t stand a chance.

Stan watched his twin sleep for a few minutes.

This had been fun, despite the lingering otherworldly threat. Now, to the next problem. What to do next?

Tags: @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @aweebshitdrawings @thenoellebird @thehessianslady @multyfangirl16 @clueless-rarito

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<Prev; Chp. 3; Next.>

[newkatzkafe2023]

The moment I read cartoon, my mind went to tinkerbell, not the newer version. I mean the og ball of spite. So our favorite monkey mens reactions would be?

Ohhhhh, the Peter pan one, ok!!!🤩

(Lmk Wukong) You were always helpful and kind to Wukong and his friends, especially if it were to mess with the celestial court and all of heaven. You don't allow anyone to mess with you with your feisty nature and tendency to get violent, Wukong appreciates you for all of it but sometimes you escalate things. However Wukong will always have your back and loyalty and that won't change anything, he just wishes you don't set people up for failure.

(MKR Wukong) Oh please he's just as sassy and spiteful, as you are which makes you both perfect for each other. You and your husbands violence and stubborn traits go hand in hand when it comes to threats or dealing with idiots in general. People have made fun of you and underestimated you for your fairy monkey form, but your intelligence makes you a worthy opponent. You both also have shared bouts of jealousy and you both want to get rid of the treats. Wukong can be just as loyal and loving to you as you are to him, and he couldn't see his immortal life without you.

(HIB Wukong) Oh this is interesting you loved Wukong and the lost boy and girl Aka Luier and Silly girl. Wukong has your full loyalty and shown to always have his back along with the children. You showed Wukong nothing but help and love to him and his kids happy. You made sure to empathize your husbands struggles or pains, and work to make him feel better. Then comes your murderous side wanting to hurt anyone who may have brought him harm, but he is quick to soothe you his beautiful fairy wife.

(NR Wukong) This sh*t was too funny, especially when you have no problem, kicking somebody's ass. He loves how much of a firecracker you are and have no fear standing up for yourself towards people who mess with you personally. Though some things about you would get on his nerves or upset him, such as your murderous, mildy, selfish acts, everything you do, Wukong is on your mind. He also thinks it's cute when you get jealous of the gals that fill the clubs he frequented. Boy, your jealousy can sky rocket and now you want to get even, however Wukong will always have eyes for his firecracker girl.

(Netflix Wukong) Oh my god with his sass and your spite, people would be very stupid to mess with you two. Wukong definitely enables and encourages your spiteful and vandictive side especially when he feels wronged too. You both even join together in preforming violent and slowly murderous acts, especially since you can be selfish too. Though you simply want what's best for Wukong and makes sure he gets what he is promised, and he can't love you enough for it.

(BMW Wukong) You get jealous very easy, and quite frankly so does Wukong. Neither of you like sharing the other with people of the outside world, became of you and Wukong's receiving mistreatment you lost your temper very fast. Wukong loves your sassy and feisty personality unfortunately it would become counter productive if your stubborn traits clash with each other. It's a good thing you have alot of targets to take it out on along with your darling husband Wukong.

(Destined one) You are somtimes tiny but all the time mighty, and the Destined one loves you for it. However your jealousy can cause problems for him sometimes I mean, it's one thing for girls to flirt when he's clearly married but it's another for you to attack them unprovoked. Your ill temper and vindictive side can make things worse for him, however at least he knows you won't allow anyone to mistreated or bully him. Your loyalty and love to the Destined one will continue to show and he's gonna have to learn to deal with the latter.

(Lotmk Wukong) Awww he thinks your so cute to him, especially your big attitude. However you were a terror to everyone else, as you became very protective over your sweet Naive Wukong. Your loyalty to him is 100% and you would always put your life on the line to rescue your husband from danger. Which in turn makes you quite violent in a fit of protective worry but dispite your vindictive side you always have Wukong's back and vise versa for him too😊.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🧚‍♀️

[sapphicandgraphic]

The Girl Next Door—Chapter 6

Synopsis: A new neighbor turns Melissa’s world upside down.

Chapter: 6/10 (The Dinner)

Series Warnings: Slow burn, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, protective Melissa, fem reader, age difference, WLW

Chapter Warnings: References to drug use and sibling rift, internalized homophobia if you squint, lots of angst and longing in this chap but I promise we’re gonna work thru it together!

Melissa walked into the teacher’s lounge with a spring in her step. She was staring at a message on her phone. Whatever it said made her chuckle, and she typed a quick response before stepping over to the kitchenette counter.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Jacob asked.

Melissa narrowed her eyes playfully. “None of your beeswax, kid.”

She hip-checked him out of the way, grabbing her favorite mug and pouring a cup of coffee.

“Hot date?” Jacob wheedled, shaking a sugar packet back and forth. Melissa hadn’t mentioned anyone by name, but the last few days she’d been glued to her phone in the staff lounge, a fond sparkle in her eyes.

“Maybe,” she said, unable to keep the smile off her face.

“Omg.” Jacob clapped a hand to his chest. “Who is he?”

Melissa faltered, but only for a second. “A paramedic.”

“You really have a thing for the emergency service community,” Gregory intoned, not looking up from the newspaper he was leafing through.

“No kink-shaming,” Jacob reminded him in a sing-song voice. “This is a safe space.”

“It’s not,” Gregory replied flatly.

Janine wandered in next. “Good morning, peers and mentors!”

“Melissa has a secret boyfriend,” Jacob announced without hesitation, almost vibrating with excitement.

Janine rounded on the redhead and the interrogation kicked into high gear:

“What’s his name?”

“Do you have any pictures?”

“Where did you meet?”

“Where is he taking you?”

“Enough!” Melissa cried, starting to regret sharing her private business with these jamokes. “It’s just dinner.“

All week she had looked been looking forward to your “date”. Sure, neither of you had officially called it that. But after exchanging numbers, the texting had turned…flirty.

It started when you got a late night notification from Melissa. You were on shift, a little distracted, and quickly scanned the message (What are you wearing?), trying to ignore the pleasant flutter in your belly.

My uniform. You?

Melissa was momentarily confused by your response, then laughed out loud before typing back.

No, idiota. On Friday.

You closed your eyes, mortified. “Oh my god.”

Boone fiddled with the radio dial. “What is it?”

Melissa, who had been standing in front of her closet, sank onto her bed. She couldn’t quite resist teasing you and typed a quick follow up.

But since you clearly wanna know, I’ll give you three guesses what I’m wearin right now…

Your brain went staticky as a dozen mouth-watering images materialized in your mind’s eye. Melissa in a red negligee. Melissa in a black satin robe. Melissa in a thong. Jesus. The redhead made you feel like a teenage boy.

Your fingers shook as you typed your first guess, trying to play it cool.

Hmm…French maid’s outfit?

Melissa settled back on her pillows feeling almost predatory, like a lion closing in on a gazelle.

Nope. Mine’s at the dry cleaners this week.

You chuckled and Boone glanced over. “What’s so funny?”

You ignored him, eyes glued to the new text on the screen.

Guess again.

You looked out the window, thinking hard.

Eagles lingerie?

Melissa grinned before firing back.

Go birds. But no.

You chewed your lip, wondering how far you could push this.

Can I get a hint?

Melissa considered your request. Opening her camera, she held it just above her chest and snapped a quick picture. You gasped when it came through.

Melissa was looking directly at the lens, her face soft and makeup-free at the end of the day. Her hair was down, covering her shoulders, and the shadow of her cleavage was just visible at the bottom of the frame. She might have been wearing nothing at all.

You felt a pang of warm desire gathering in the pit of your stomach as you formulated a reply: Is this a trick question?

She typed back three words: No more hints.

Your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment.

Birthday suit. Final answer.

You held your breath. Three dots appeared, indicating the redhead was typing, then disappeared for several long seconds, before reappearing again.

You wish.

You could almost hear the words in her throaty voice, taunting and warm. What did Melissa Schemmenti wear to bed? Had you ever wanted to know the answer to a question so badly?

The rest of the week passed in similar fashion, a slow chain of tortuous text messages building between you. By the time Friday night rolled around, you felt almost light-headed with anticipation.

Stepping out of your apartment, you walked across the hall and knocked on Melissa’s door. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you heard the click of the lock, the turn of the handle.

“Hiya, hon.”

She appeared in the doorway, wearing a mesh long-sleeve bodysuit and skintight leather pants that hugged her curvy hips. You tried not to stare, but couldn’t keep your gaze from flickering down to her perfect tits, nestled in a lacy bralette.

“Hi,” you managed.

Melissa grinned, enjoying the slack look of desire on your face. She stepped forward, almost at eye-level. The perfect height for kissing, some distant part of your brain informed you. Looking down, you saw she had on black boots with a wicked high heel. She slung a dark blazer over her shoulders and swanned past you.

“Comin’?” she called.

You helped her into the passenger seat of your car and then took off toward the restaurant, knuckles white from how hard you were gripping the steering wheel.

You had made reservations at a steakhouse. The host led you to a private alcove with a view of the water. Melissa looked around, clearly impressed.

“How’d ya manage this?”

“Called in a favor,” you admitted. “The chef owed me.”

You gave a brief overview of having once assisted a patron on the premises in medical distress, leaving out the more grisly parts about blocked airways, mouth-to-mouth, and expelled foreign bodies.

The redhead laughed at your abridged version of the story. “You’re full of surprises.”

The waiter came and you ordered, then sat back and considered each other across the candlelit table. That familiar chemistry crackled between you, thickening the air.

“You look beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Melissa ducked her head. “I clean up okay?”

“More than okay,” you insisted. “You’re…insanely hot.”

Melissa rolled her eyes, but preened at the compliment.

“Not so bad yourself,” she said, drinking in the sight of you. “I like your hair pushed back.”

Drinks arrived, followed shortly by entrees. You slowly relaxed, finding it easy (as always) to talk to Melissa. You had plenty of wild stories from living abroad and she was eager to hear them, laughing and gasping and interrupting at all the right moments. Likewise, you wanted to know everything about Melissa’s work. You loved the way her face lit up when she talked about the kids she taught, the other teachers on staff.

“Sounds like a good bunch,” you said. “I’d love to meet them, especially Barbara.”

“Yeah,” she said fondly. “She’d like you a lot.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck and reached across the table for your wine. Melissa glanced down at your hand, which was still bandaged. Her fingers twitched, as though she wanted to grab it.

Instead she said, “Any word from your brother?”

For the first time all night, a different kind of tension fell across the table. You shook your head. “Think you scared him off.”

Melissa cracked her knuckles. “Damn straight.”

You chuckled, taking a bite of food even as your appetite suddenly waned. Thinking about your brother—about any member of your family—tended to lower your spirits. Melissa watched you carefully, patiently.

“We were really close growing up,” you said, tracing circles in the condensation left by your water glass. “But in high school we kinda drifted apart. You think I got authority issues? He makes me look like a choir girl.”

Melissa’s mind flashed to her dream (your mouth making its holy pilgrimage up the inside of her thigh) and she inhaled sharply.

“You ok?”

She nodded, tipping her wine glass back and taking a hasty sip.

“Well, anyway, when my dad…after that happened, Mikey just went completely off the rails. Got mixed up with the wrong people, got himself a hardcore habit, got arrested. And I let it all happen.”

Melissa watched as a weary cloud of self-loathing settled in around your shoulders, making you look so much older than you were. She nudged your knee with hers beneath the table.

“Hey,” she said. “It ain’t your fault.”

“I’m his big sister,” you protested. “And I left right when shit hit the fan.”

Melissa couldn’t stand the look in your eyes, hard and unforgiving. She reached out and took your hand in hers, tangling your fingers together.

“You had to take care of yourself in the best way ya knew how. That ain’t selfish, it’s survival,” Melissa said. “Besides, you were just a kid.”

Her warm touch thawed you slightly and you considered her words, the absolution she was offering, uncertain if you would ever be able to accept it. You traced the pad of your thumb back and forth over her knuckles, momentarily distracted by the memory of what it had felt like to have her arms wrapped around you.

“About that night,” you said, licking your lips nervously. “About what happened…between us…”

“Forget it,” Melissa interrupted, not unkindly. “You were upset. We both were.”

“What if I said I’d been wanting to do that for a long time?” You looked up, trying to gauge her reaction. “What if I said I wanted to do it again?”

Melissa took a shaky breath. Her eyes glazed over as she allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy of kissing you properly, the warmth of your mouth, the little noises of pleasure she’d pull from you. She felt that familiar gut-punch of affection and lust mingled, for the first time, with fear.

“I don’t wanna hurt ya,” Melissa confessed softly.

You gave her a lopsided grin, all hope and charisma and vulnerability. “So don’t.”

You realized you were still softly gripping her hand and brought it to your mouth, kissing each knuckle one by one.

“I got baggage,” she whispered, eyes glassy and glued to your lips as they traveled from one finger to the next.

“Join the club,” you said, moving to the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist and planting a kiss there, mapping the blue-green veins.

She shivered. “What if I can’t give you what you want?”

This last question came out in a jagged whisper, Melissa’s head tipped back slightly in pleasure. Your eyes flickered to the pale expanse of her chest and throat, dusted with freckles. You opened your mouth, probably to say something stupid, something you wouldn’t be able to take back, something that would scare her off for good.

Suddenly a busboy arrived to clear your plates, and the spell was broken by the gentle clatter of porcelain and cutlery and glass. Melissa snatched her hand away as if burned.

“Sorry,” you said several seconds later. “I know I promised not to do that again.”

The older woman looked torn, her normally easy smile tinged with uncertainty. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

You paid the check and drove Melissa home, your feverish trance evaporating in the chilly darkness.

“Night cap?” you offered as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, even though you already knew the answer.

She shook her head, hair falling in a curtain to obscure her face. “Long week,” she said.

You lingered in the hallway, staring at your feet as she unlocked her door. Melissa turned around with every intention of letting you down easy, of telling you this was a bad idea, of insisting you deserved someone less damaged, less complicated. But as always, the sight of you wiped away every rational thought in her brain.

“Hey.” You looked up to find the redhead standing much closer than you expected. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her eyes were closed as she swayed back, licking her lips. “Thanks for dinner, hon.”

You stood there for a few minutes after she had disappeared, rooted to the spot, more confused than ever. But the memory of her warm lips against your face was so clear, and the lingering cloud of her perfume so sweet, that for several long dreamy hours that night, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

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[scoobydoodean]

If you had to pick five moments that you think best summarize Dean as a character… What would they be? Like, either each individually makes you go “yup THAT’S the character” or as a whole they male up the most of his facets?

Oooh that’s difficult. Hmm. HMMM.

1.02 "I figure our family's so screwed to hell... maybe we can help some others"

"Saving people, hunting things, the family business" etc etc yeah. But ALSO we often ignore that this whole conversation is centered around not letting desperation for revenge consume you, and Dean's care for others including strangers—wanting to keep them from experiencing the traumas that he has.

DEAN Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. SAM How do you do it? How does Dad do it? DEAN looks over at HALEY and BEN. DEAN Well for one, them. I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.

4.22 "Stepford Bitch in Paradise"

This one is a good representation of Dean's refusal to back down, caring about the whole world, and arguing fiercely to protect it, as well as his ability to stir up the care and love in others.

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam. DEAN You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.

12.22 "I hate you and I love you"

Just a very good summary of Dean's childhood experiences and how they have effected him, and how he (yet again) stirs up the care and love in others (and pulls people from mind control over and over via the power of love <3)

I hate you. You lied to me. I was a kid. You promised you'd keep me safe. And then you make a deal with Azazel. Yeah, it saved Dad's life, but I'll tell you something else that happened. Because on November 2, 1983, old Yellow Eyes came waltzing in to Sammy's room, because of your deal. You left us. Alone. 'Cause Dad was just a shell. His perfect wife? Gone. Our perfect Mom, the perfect family... was gone. And I... I had to be... more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe. And that wasn't fair. And I couldn't do it. And you wanna know what that was like? They killed the girl that he loved. He got possessed by Lucifer. They tortured him in Hell. And he lost his soul. His soul. All because of you. All of it was because of you. I hate you. I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand...'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once. I forgive you. I forgive you. For all of it. Everything. On the other side of this, we can start over, okay? You, me, Sam. We can get it right this time. But I need you to fight. Right now, I need you to fight. I need you – I need you to look at me, Mom. I need you to really look at me and see me. Mom, I need you to see me. Please.

5.22 "Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone"

Bobby and Cas try to convince Dean that they've lost and there's no point in trying to reach Sam.

BOBBY: You just don't give up. DEAN: It's Sam! CASTIEL: If you couldn't reach him here, you're certainly not gonna be able to on the battlefield. DEAN: Well, if we've already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right? CASTIEL: I just want you to understand – the only thing that you're gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother. DEAN: Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone.

Dean pulls up at Stull right in front of two archangels who could blow him to smithereens, blasting music from his car and making an obnoxious scene. THEN Cas and Bobby show up right behind him (just as Michael says "you are not a part of the story!") Dean's refusal to give up defies causality, and his attitude is infectious.

While Dean is being beaten to death, he's saying,

DEAN: Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you. I'm not gonna leave you.

Dean's refusal to abandon his brother fills Lucifer with jealous rage making his control slip, while simultaneously bringing dozens of memories of traveling with Dean to Sam's mind helping him surface and take control.

3.10 "I didn't deserve what he put on me"

I have trouble picking a 5th because there's so many different directions I could go (Dean and Cas in the Crypt, Dean reusing to abandon Cas in Purgatory, Dean in the cemetery in 2.20 crying over John's grave, Dean's "I'm not mad I'm worried" from "Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets" or the similar scene in "The Future", Dean convincing Chuck and Amara to make up, Dean refusing to give into Chuck's writing and kill Jack, Dean telling Chuck "We will never give you the ending you want", etc).

I think I have to go with 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream of Me" because it summarizes a lot of Dean's intrusive thoughts and his overactive sense of responsibility and guilt, identifies the origin of those feelings, connects all of it to his depression and suicidality, and then circles back to the fact that he knows deep down that he doesn't deserve to feel this way, that he's not a tool for others to use, that he is his own person, and that he deserves to live.

DREAM DEAN I mean, you're going to hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem. Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it? DEAN Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up. DREAM DEAN I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog. DEAN That -That's not true. DREAM DEAN No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell. DEAN Just shut up. DREAM DEAN I mean, think about it ... all he ever did is train you, boss you around. But Sam .... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. DEAN I mean it. I'm getting angry. DREAM DEAN Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you? DEAN Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam! That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He- He's the one who let Mom die. – who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve to go to Hell!

[lemoncrushh]

We're Gonna Have a Baby

Summary: Telling Harry he's gonna be a dad.

Warnings: Loving couple sex, lots of fluff. 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 2165

A/N: A sweet little one shot written in 2016. This is in first person, but no name is given.

I told him yesterday. You should have seen the look on his face. If I'd been smart, I would have had my phone with me to take a picture.

I'd taken the first test almost a week ago. I'd thought I was pregnant. In fact, I kinda even knew I was. We hadn't been using protection for a couple months, deciding we could start trying, but not really trying - if that made any sense. My period due date had come and gone. So, when I sat on the toilet that morning and peed on the stick, I should have been prepared. However, when I first saw the little plus sign, I sat in shock, blinking over and over in case my eyes were deceiving me.

So yesterday morning I decided to take another test, just to be sure. I'd decided not to tell Harry yet just in case it turned out to be a fluke. The disappointment he was bound to feel was not something I was willing to bear. His light-heartedness about the whole thing was just a facade, I knew. He wanted kids. Badly.

He kissed me before he rolled out of bed, announcing that he was going to start breakfast. Once he was out of the room, I hurried to the toilet and unwrapped the second pregnancy test. I waited just a minute or two before checking the results, even though I knew it didn't even take that long. I just wanted a moment longer to consider it.

This time, I wasn't scared. I promised myself that whatever the result was, I would be happy. Because I was happy. I had Harry. He loved me and I loved him. That was all I could ask for. If I was pregnant, I knew he would be ecstatic. We would have the most loved baby there ever was. But if I wasn't, that was okay too. We would just keep trying.

With a sigh, I rose from the toilet and washed my hands before finally taking a peek at the test. A plus sign. I was most definitely pregnant. I bit my lip and dried my hands with a towel, carefully picking up the test to inspect it closer. I was startled by a knock on the door, nearly dropping the test into the sink.

"Babe?" called Harry from the other side.

I cleared my throat. "Yes, love?"

"We only have a couple of eggs left. Should we go out, or do you want something else?"

"I'm fine with anything," I called back, still staring at the test. A baby. Harry and I were gonna have a baby...

"Well, tell me because I already have the bacon out and the-"

With a giddy grin, I turned to the door and threw it open. Harry stood with his eyes wide, his hand resting on the door frame.

"What would you like?" I asked him.

"I don't-" he began with a shrug until I lifted the pregnancy test in my hand.

"A boy or a girl?" I raised a brow.

Harry glared at me, his eyes shifting between mine and the test. His lips parted, but he made no sound. I noticed his chest rise and fall with quick, heavy breaths.

"Is...is that..." he stammered.

I giggled. "Yes, it is."

"Baby..." he breathed, looking back at me.

"Yep," I nodded. "We're gonna have a baby, Harry."

Finally finding his footing, he wasted no more time to erase the space between us and wrap me in his embrace. I wound my arms around his neck as he cried in my ear.

"Oh my God."

His body shook against me. I murmured in his ear that I loved him which he echoed in returned. When he finally stood up straight and I got a look at his face, his cheeks were wet with tears. My heart melted as I wiped them away with my thumbs, cradling his face in my hands.

"How do you feel?" he asked me. That was so like Harry. To have concern for me and my well-being before his own.

"I feel fine," I replied. "No morning sickness yet."

"No, I mean..." he swallowed, "how do you feel about becoming a mother? I know we discussed it before, but...this is real and..."

I shook my head. "Harry. I still feel the same. Actually, no. I feel even better. I'm having your baby. Our baby."

A smile took hold of his lips, revealing his dimples. "My baby's having my baby."

I giggled again, licking my lips. "That's right. And I've never been happier."

Harry seemed to study my face as he lifted his hand and let the back of it graze across my cheek.

"I love you so much," he declared, his voice cracking.

"I love you, too."

"C'mere," he whispered before sliding his hand around my neck and pulling me closer into a deep kiss.

When his tongue met mine, I immediately felt weak in the knees, the inevitable fire igniting within. I grabbed his forearm with one hand, my other pressing against his chest, taking a fistful of his t-shirt. His plump lips taking my bottom one between them, Harry's other hand slid down my shoulder and arm to my waist. Silently, he backed into the bedroom, taking me with him. When his long legs bumped into the edge of the bed, he finally released my mouth and rested his forehead against mine.

"Would it be completely unromantic if I said I want you so bad right now?" he muttered, his voice raspy.

"No," I answered. "Not at all."

I took it upon myself to grip the hem of his shirt and lift it, my fingers touching his bare skin. His stomach was warm. Harry then reached behind to pull the shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. I stared at his face, his eyelids heavy as my hands roamed up his torso and back down to the waistband of his shorts. His jaw dropped slightly, the end of his tongue escaping the corner of his mouth as he gave me a sexy smirk. Slipping my hands inside, I cupped his bottom before rounding to the front of his shorts. His breath hitched when my fingers met his erection, gliding my hand up his sensitive skin.

"Mmm," he sounded, his eyes closed.

I pushed his shorts down and Harry stepped out of them. His hands on my waist then, he grabbed the sides of my nightgown, lifting it over my head. The fabric had barely hit the floor when he sat back on the bed, pulling me towards him.

Laying me down, he hovered above me, his beautiful face glowing in the morning light that shone through our large window. I literally felt my heart speed up in my chest just from the way he was looking at me, as though this was our first time, and everything was new again.

"I'm so lucky," he murmured.

For a split second I was about to ask him why. But I didn't have to. Never short on sentiments, Harry had spent the last four years of our relationship declaring his love for me. I never once felt slighted in the least, or had any resentment. He showered me with affection and repeatedly showed me how lucky he felt to have me. Now I was giving him the one thing he wanted that he didn't already have.

Lowering his lips to mine, he proved it once again in the tender way he kissed me. I tangled my fingers in his hair as he made his way to my jaw and neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to my collarbone. My breaths got jagged when he scooted his body down, his fingers threading through the sides of my panties. He nipped at my hips, dragging his teeth along my skin before adding the lacy garment to the pile on the floor. Then on his way back up, he made it a point to stop at my stomach, giving it sweet, soft kisses. Before he lifted his head, I could've sworn I saw him mouth the words "I love you".

When he reached my chest, he gently ran his tongue around one nipple, taking it into his mouth. I threw my head back, my back arching automatically at the sensation. Heat pooled between my legs as he switched breasts, giving it the same treatment.

"Harry..." I managed to say, though it was barely audible.

He lifted his head, his eyes mimicking the desire that was no doubt apparent in mine. Lifting one of my thighs, he situated himself between them. He entered me slowly, my body stretching to accommodate him. I watched him swallow hard before letting out a deep breath, thrusting a bit more.

"You okay?" he inquired when he noticed I was biting my lip.

I merely nodded, running my hands up his arms. After all this time, he still asked, always wanting to make sure I was receiving the same pleasure he was.

Our bodies rocked slowly and evenly as we became one. His skin was so hot against mine, yet I couldn't get enough of it. I began to feel the build-up as he hit my most sensitive spot. My eyelids fluttered closed, and I opened my legs wider, my toes curling. Moans escaped my throat, and I ran my hands down his sides to grip his hips, guiding him where I wanted him.

"Ohh my love..." Harry groaned in my ear.

"Yeah..." I whined. "Right there."

Quickly lifting his head, he gazed into my eyes. Usually at this point Harry would begin to thrust faster and harder, both of us screaming each other's names as we came. But we both knew this time was different. It was special.

Harry continued the slow pace. Though it was nearly agonizing because we were both so close, I also knew sometimes this was the best sex. Because it wasn't just sex. This was two people in love, bound together and committed. It only made it that much better. As did the slow, easy thrusts.

Finally, I felt Harry's body tremble above me as he bit his lip. His brows furrowed as he let out a deep groan, then another. His head fell beside mine again and his breath tickled my ear.

"Come," I whispered.

"Not before you," he moaned. "But God, I'm so close."

"I am too," I muttered. "Together."

I felt Harry nod before he lifted slightly and wrapped his arms around my waist. His thrusts then, though sloppy, were sped up and when he hit my spot again, I felt the orgasm rip through me. Harry followed, my name falling from his lips as his chest shook.

He laid on top of me for a moment while our breaths evened out. Then rolling onto his side, he pulled me to him, planting passionate kisses on my mouth.

"I'm so in love with you, baby," Harry cried. "You make me so happy."

"Me too," I said, lifting my hand to touch his cheek, my thumb swiping across his chin. "You're everything to me."

He stared back at me for a while, his fingers in my hair. I decided not to ask him what was on his mind, because I felt like I knew. However, when I caught a tear falling from his eye, I quickly wiped it away.

"Honey..." I whispered. "What's that for?"

Harry chuckled nervously, shaking his head. "I don't know. Just emotional, I guess."

I nodded. "It's gonna be okay, Harry. We're gonna be amazing parents."

"Yeah," he agreed, his face lighting up. "Yeah, we are."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him one more kiss. With a sigh, he laid on his back and I rested my head on his chest, tracing his tattoos with the tip of my finger. Suddenly, I felt my stomach growl and Harry and I giggled at the same time.

"Guess I could go for some breakfast now," I commented.

"You never told me what you wanted."

I rose up onto my elbow and looked around the room as though it held the answer somewhere.

"I'm thinking eggs...and sausage...bacon...hash browns...fruit...toast and jam..." I listed.

"Jesus, that's a lot of food," said Harry.

"Well, I'm eating for two now, you know?"

Harry chuckled and pulled me back down on top of him. I giggled with glee as he began to tickle me, his morning stubble scratching my cheek. I folded my arms across his chest as I looked down at his handsome face.

"We're gonna have a baby, Harry," I cheered.

"I know!" he grinned, pushing my hair off my shoulders.

"Our love made a person." Even after saying that, I got choked up.

"Sweetheart..." Harry cooed. "You're gonna make me cry again."

"Sorry," I murmured, kissing his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips. "Just happy."

"Me too, my love," he whispered. "Me too."

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[magicalqueennightmare]

Echo-Part 12 (Final)

John Walker x Reader (nicknamed Echo)

You finally believe John when he tells you he loves you and the two of you look to the future, together

Mention of past torture

When all of you got back to the tower, you tried to stand on your own but your ribs had gotten stiff. John was on his feet, picking you up before you could protest as Sam helped Joaquin off the jet. Both of you needed to go to medical to get cleared. You had signs of beatings, even if they hadn’t gotten to actual torture yet. He was sure that had to have hit close for you.

You laid your head against his chest “There’s that super soldier that has no issue carrying me like a teddy bear” he laughed lightly “Teddy bear? Honey, I’m thinking we shouldn’t have let you go to sleep. I think you have a concussion” you cut your eyes up at him and god help he thanked everything in him he didn’t stumble from the look in your eyes. You loved him. This amazing woman he held in his arms loved the broken excuse for a man he was. 

“No concussion. You just carry me around like a kid carrying their favorite teddy” you teased and he grinned “You are my favorite teddy” and you rolled your eyes “God you suck at flirting sometimes” then laid your head back over. 

When he walked into medical, one of the nurses told him to lay you on the gurney. “Walker, can you leave while we give her the exam?” he wanted to say no, he wanted to stay. One look from you and he nodded “Ok, can someone let me know when I can come back?” “Of course”

“I’m ok John” you assured him, tugging his hand to pull him down to press a kiss to his lips before the nurse shooed him out. She turned to look at you “That man, I swear he is an annoyance when it comes to you” you laughed weakly “How’s that?” 

She started to help you out of your suit into a gown. You could hear Joaquin cutting jokes with the nurse he got. “He’s been calling and giving orders. A pain in the ass, like we don’t know what we’re doing. Men in love, I tell you” you felt your heart drop. Yeah, men in love. 

Once you were changed into the gown she folded your suit “I’ll send this up so they can get it repaired” “Thank you” she walked out so you could wait for tests, pulling your curtain for privacy. As soon as the ward was empty you heard Joaquin whistle so you whistled back. 

“Ninja girl, we still alive?” he called out and you laughed “You know it bird boy” and laid your head back. You knew how this routine went. It would take a while, even if John was being a pain in their asses. 

When John walked into the common room Yelena, Sam and Bucky were the only ones in it. “How are they?” Sam asked and he shrugged “I got ran out of the wing” Yelena laughed “I'll go check. I’m not an asshole”

She walked past him onto the elevator. He finally let himself catch a breath. You were home, mainly in one piece. “She’ll be ok” Sam spoke to no one in particular.  “What did Joaquin mean by how protective she is?” he asked, looking at Sam. He knew you had one hell of a protective streak, he knew you were strong but there was something underlying to Joaquin’s words.

“She made him promise to let her take it worse if it came to torture” Sam admitted and he dropped down onto the couch, his head in his hands “Why? I mean I’m not mad but why?” Bucky shrugged “She knows her limits, kid doesn’t” 

“It’s because that’s what her unit did for her” Sam clarified and John’s eyes flew up “What?” Sam looked from him to Bucky “You didn’t know?” he shook his head “No, she’s never wanted to talk about…I’ve never pushed her”

“I read the reports. The reason why she took it so bad. John, she survived it because her unit died for her” “I never knew” he whispered and Sam nodded “She’s probably gonna have a hard time for a little while. She relived the trauma” “I’ll be there to help her” John promised.

You were sitting up talking to Yelena when the doctor came back in “Good news, no concussion. Just the stitches and taking it easy on your ribs until you heal” you pouted “So I’m grounded” he nodded “Afraid so” Yelena smiled “Bob will keep you company” 

“I can come hang out!” Joaquin offered from three beds down. You laughed, holding your sides “At least we have a plan going forward. Doc, can Yelena go retrieve me some clothes now?” he nodded “Of course and if she’d like to retrieve Mr Torres some clothing too, that would be nice”

She laughed “I’ll get them both something so their asses aren’t hanging out” and headed for the elevator. The doctor told you as soon as you were dressed, you and Joaquin both could leave. “So, you and Captain Grumpy cat huh?” Joaquin teased and you groaned “Oh lord, can I please use that name on him?” he laughed “Go ahead babe”

You grinned, turning to face him since your curtains were currently open “Yeah, we’ve known each other for a long long time” he nodded “He seems like he really loves you, not just saying because of the underground base full of dead men…though that did help push his case” you shook your head “You’re insane Torres, I swear”

He laughed “And yet, your friends are me, former assassins, Bob and Sam. Your boyfriend is well..John. Are you saying you’re sane?” you shook your head “Of course not”

You groaned lightly as you moved in your sleep. John was wide awake in the bed next to you. He was afraid to fall asleep and you need something or have a nightmare. Instead he listened to the light sounds of pain that would fall from your lips as well as you talking to the members of your unit. Sometimes it was orders, other times it was jokes. Sometimes you even talked to Lemar in your sleep. It broke his damn heart.

You suddenly jolted awake “NO TAKE ME DAMMIT” he grabbed your arms as pain shot across your face and your eyes landed on him “John?” he nodded “Yeah baby, you’re ok. I’ve got you”

He could feel you shaking as he pulled you closer. “I’m sorry” “It’s ok baby. I love you, feel free to wake me up” that was only the second time he’d told you that. He’d waited until you were a few days out of being injured. He didn’t want you thinking guilt was what had him saying it. He did love you, any worries be damned. 

He held his breath as you lifted up from his chest to look at him “Do you mean it?” he nodded “I do honey, I love you” your eyes filled with tears “Then why didn’t you say it back? I thought that meant you didn’t love me, that you were still in love with Olivia, that I wasn’t good enough for someone yet again”

“Oh Echo, no baby” he pulled you into his lap, being careful of your ribs. You curled around him, “I love you John, I have for a while but I was afraid to say anything. Then when I said it and you were silent? That hurt so bad” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips “I know baby but please believe me when I say I love you. Even before I loved you, you were my other half. I couldn’t do this without you. When Bucky said you were taken? Everything stopped”

You nuzzled at his neck, kissing the flesh there “I just tried to protect Joaquin as much as I could” you whispered as he slipped his hands under the shirt you’d worn to bed to trace patterns onto your flesh “I know, Sam told me” 

You nodded “John, I need to tell you something.” you sniffled and raised your eyes to his. “What baby? You can tell me anything” tears started streaming down your face “They’re all dead because of me”

His eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t have to act like he was confused, he simply was. “Who baby?” “My unit. Waldorf, Jones, McAdams, Henderson, Pennant, hell even Corson. The same men that you once backed down from harassing me? They saw me have the chance to walk away and chose to come back. I earned their respect, their loyalty and they gave me their lives in return” 

“What happened?” he asked and you started to play with the hair on his chest, to keep your hands busy as you spoke “When we got hit, Henderson and Jones died first. They tried to keep them off of us” you swallowed hard but he remained silent. If you were finally trying to get this out, he was letting you.

“Pennant was next..then Waldorf..McAdams and Corson died taking beatings…torture methods that would have been used on me” you buried your face in his chest. “Look at me sweetheart” he spoke quietly and when you raised your eyes, seeing the broken look in them? It made him wish he could do something, anything to fix it.

“They made their choices. They protected you because you’d earned their respect for them to do so. I thank whoever is listening for those men, for you being right here. You did no wrong baby. You can’t possibly hold that guilt and love me. I’m horrible, you? You are a fucking angel”

You laughed wetly, playfully slapping his chest “Don’t fucking lie now John” he nodded “You are. A demonic little, insane angel. Those men knew what they were doing keeping you alive. You would have done the same for them. You did the same for Torres. I love you Echo. You are the most amazing thing that could have ever happened to me and if I ever one day become a man that actually deserves you? Then I’ll finally be good”

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his lips “I love you John, good or bad. Guilty or not. You’re not a perfect man, so far from it but you keep trying to be better and that counts” he smiled and pulled you a little closer “I love you too” you grinned before catching his lips in a kiss that was not in the least bit innocent or soft. He shook his head “No, I could hurt you” “Not if I’m on top, please John? I need to feel something good baby. You always make me feel good” you whispered into his mouth and he groaned lighty “Are you trying to kill me?” 

You pulled back from his lips and grinned “Never, I’m an angel remember” he laughed and pulled you back into another kiss “Well angel, I guess since you’re hurt this once I’ll let you have your way with me” you whimpered lightly and he nearly fell apart then and there, especially when you whispered “Good boy” as you rolled your hips down against his. 

A thought occurred to you and you froze “Where are my dog tags?” he grimaced, holding an arm around you and leaned to reach his hand into the table next to the bed “I’m sorry honey” you raised an eyebrow as he reached into the drawer and handed you one thick dog tag “John?” you rolled it over and realized it was all three of them.

“What happened?” you asked and he flinched “I had them in my hand, we were trying to find you. I didn’t mean to” he was so worried you’d be mad but you just turned it over in your hand, a light laugh escaping you “Guess a part of you, me and Lemar will always be together. Huh?” and laid the tag back over into the drawer before pressing a kiss to his lips “But you better count your lucky stars I love you because if any one else would have fucked up those tags? I would’ve killed em”

He grinned “That is the lowest on the list of reasons why I count my lucky stars that you love me but I’ll gladly add it to the list”

@desimarie12

@linkpk88

@prongsdotjpeg

[stgosupremacy]

Hi so this is me ranting about Ash being Goh's n01 supporter in project mew 😍 (as he always is ofc)

"I wanna join. Project Mew! For sure!"

love that cute sneaky side view

"You know what? I'm gonna cheer you on with all my might!"

the way he said you sounded a bit like it was a thank you for goh always cheering on ash during his battles 🥺 (it also sounds like I'm analysing too much again looooooooollllllllllll)

I always thought this was Ash just being dead supportive to Goh like he always is but he meant this so much 😭😭😭💗

"You're coming too, Ash?" (the hand on goh's shoulder omg and ash looks so cute idfjkmf)

"I promised I'd always cheer you on, didnt I?"

everyone smiling around them lol (they so know whats going on)

"I'll clear the mission for sure!"

"That's the spirit, Goh!" (always so supportive 🥺💖)

STOP HE'S SO HAPPY TO BE ALLOWED TO GO WITH GOHH AW 🥺

"You failed. You'd be toast if I hadn't saved you."

"Wait just a second, what are you talking about failed!?"

i love how as soon as ash sees goh's sad face he gets his protective boyfriend mode activated 🥰🥰🥺

"Good for you, Goh! I'm fired up about this too!"

i am so tempted to make a post on how touchy these guys are bc oh my god they are so touchy 💀💀 and hellllllll ash was not lying at all about being fired up about project mew, the entire trial period it was almost like ash was taking the missions, bless him 💖😂

"I'll help any way I can!"

it's so sweet to me ash constantly reminds gohof this fact <3

look at danika leaning in the back guys she knows

god ive talked ab this episode far too recently to rant about it here but 🥺😂

"You can count on us! Dont let it win!"

🥰the way ash looks at him

"Plus, I'll be there, you'll be fine!"

no words from me just pure SUPPPPPPPPPPPORTTTTTTTTTT is radiating here (and also goh looking like he's crushing bad)

"Only the challenger is allowed in this mission."

"You've gotta be kidding!"

bless the way he seems so fed up when danika says he cant come- LIKE CMON CAN THEY GET ANY CUTER??? 😭

but as soon as goh says this.....

"No worries Ash, I'm sure i'll be succesful!" (his smile is so sweet)

"You're right Goh, just make sure to pass that mission!"

...Then ash is totally supportive of it if Goh's fine with it too 💗

"Right?" 🥰

"Right!"

yeah....sorry i had to include that it was so cute

"Goh!"

"Dankia, did you do this on purpose!?" the way ash is so stressed for goh for literally no reason but his safety, enter: PROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND MODE ACTIVATED AGAIN WOOOOOOO

HE LOOKS SO SAD WHEN GOH DOESNT GET ANY TOKENS STOPPP 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

the way ash is looking at him so intently...i cannot 💀💀💀💀💀

"This time I'm going by myself."

"WHAT? HOW COME?" 😨😨 (that literally deserves to be in caps because he indeed shouted it lol ) he sounds so in disbelief, it's so sweet he just sees going along with Goh everywhere now his second nature 😭💙💙💙

but after goh explaining why, then ash just smiles and wishes goh the best of luck (as he always does bc he's just happy goh is happy)

like

why is this boy so precious

"I made it through!" I SEE THAT BLUSH HEAJDKAJ (it was obviously from excitement but blushing goh is quite rare in ultimate jrnys and he looks too cute when he does it) 😂

"No joke?! Congratulations Goh!"

YAYYYY HES SO HAPPY 4 HIM 🤗🤗

"Thanks to you, Ash!" 🥰🥺💖

"Thanks to all of your hard work!" STOPP LIKE the way how he tries to deflect the praise back onto goh makes me smile every time but yk so does this entire scene at this point

right the way goh ends the call and breathes out as soon as he does is definetelyy not gay at all 🤨🤨🤨 (fr tho they make each other so happy and i'm always living for it....if you havent noticed)

...right i should stop thats enough for today