#I asked what you wanted for dinner but sure

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 8] Bargain

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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*happy new year🫶

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There’s been a mood shift in the room. You weren’t cheery before per say, but you definitely weren’t like this. It feels as if the place has shifted from a warm orange hue to cold blue. 

Perhaps it was always like this and he didn’t notice. He’s come to see you in a different light after you announced that you didn’t care for the babies. He shouldn’t care if you want the babies or not, as long as you nurture them when they’re born– Yet, he can’t help but dwell on the thought.

“Are they kicking?” Sukuna asks, watching as you slowly eat the food that’s in front of you. Maybe things look more drastically different since his perspective of you has changed, but some things are absolutely different. You’re barely talking.

Sukuna is trying to make conversation with a woman for fuck’s sake. A woman is only good for having sex in his eyes, he shouldn’t be trying to make conversation.

“No.” You answer as you continue to quietly eat your dinner. 

“You’re going to give birth soon, no?” He questions and you shrug. You’ve lost track of time. Winter has just begun… Or is it ending soon? Days all seem the same that you’ve lost track of time. You’re due sometime in the spring, that much you know. “Will you use your words?”

“How do you want me to respond? I don’t know, my dear king?” You respond and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t like the hint of attitude that comes with your words. But there’s something Sukuna knows: beggars can’t be choosers, therefore he won’t reprimand you for speaking to him like that.

“The servants are working on clothes for them.” Sukuna announces, and you don’t react in any way. It’s fine, he didn’t expect you to. Though he won’t lie and say that he isn’t looking at your face to see some sort of excitement at the mention of the babies. He doesn’t know why, but he wants you to get excited about them.

“I’m finished. May I go to sleep?” You question, as you try to get up from your seat– A true struggle lately considering your belly is huge.

“Since when do you care to ask for permission?” He replies, and he’s met with a cold glare.

“I’m your prisoner, am I not?” You respond, and Sukuna realizes that your recent behavior is all tied back to that.

You’ve been having nightmares lately, and it becomes hard for Sukuna to ignore. It’s every night, and he isn’t sure what to do. At first he would simply watch you as you helplessly tossed and turned, but lately they’ve gotten more intense. Sukuna can’t stand and watch.

He’s growing soft, he knows he is. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be holding you to his chest, hand caressing your back. He needs you to rest enough, and that’s not possible if your nightmares get the best of you. If you’re tossing and turning, calling out for help then you’re not resting. 

He wants to know the root of the bad dreams, but he doesn’t care enough to look into the issue. He doesn’t mind this position though, holding you is like holding a little warm ball. He’d never say it outloud, but he’s cold; he won’t shiver or tremble, but he’s still cold.

“Sukuna.” He’s falling asleep, but your soft voice wakes him up. “What are you doing?”

“You have nightmares.” He informs you, as if you were unaware of your own dreams. Is this why you haven’t been waking lately? Has he been comforting you?

“I’m sorry.” You feel the odd need to apologize, something that irritates Sukuna’s ears. It ends up with him scolding you,

“You don’t ever apologize.” Which is quickly followed by another apology from you. He can’t win with you, and it’s fine. He won’t scold you again. Sukuna can’t help but ask, “What have you been dreaming about anyway?”

“Nothing.” You answer, which makes Sukuna put you back down on the futon. Of course you won’t open up so easily, but it frustrates him. His behavior is what dug him into this hole, he shouldn’t care. 

“Do the babies cause you discomfort?” Sukuna questions, and you chuckle.

“When do they not?” You respond. “Falling asleep is a struggle, it’s no surprise I’m having nightmares.”

“Are you having nightmares related to them?” Sukuna questions, and you remain silent. While Sukuna would take that answer as a yes, he isn’t sure this time around. He isn’t great at picking up social cues, but he’s pretty damn sure that he’s on the receiving end of the silent treatment. 

Sukuna takes a long time to think about this weird situation. He asked Uraume about this, but they didn’t have a good answer– Then he asked Hina, an answer that he quickly dismissed. He tries to recall what that answer was.

Then it dawns on him, “A woman dropped off a baby.”

“Your next meal, huh? Enjoy.” You respond, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. You’ve gotten bold, he’ll give you that.

“I don’t eat babies.” He answers. “Babies that are dropped off are raised as servants.”

No answer.

“You can ask Uraume if you want to visit him tomorrow.” Sukuna adds, and your interest is piqued.

“Him? It’s a boy?” You question, and Sukuna hums in response. You furrow your eyebrows, realizing that Sukuna is doing this for a reason. He wants you to look at a baby and think of the children that you grow inside of you. It’s not going to work though, there’s no way in hell that you’ll end up caring for his kids.

“Do you want to meet him or not?” Sukuna presses for an answer, wondering if Hina’s advice is any good. He might just kill her tomorrow if you refuse. Though, you adore Hina and he has to get on your good side so he might just spare her.

“Sure.”

“Uraume, why are you here?” You question when Sukuna's dear servant comes into your room. You rarely see them unless Sukuna is around. Sukuna is tending other business which means that you’re alone– Alone in the sense that he isn’t breathing down your neck, you’re still being watched by everyone else.

“King Sukuna told me you were meeting the baby. He wants me to take you there.” Uraume answers, and you sigh. He’s set on you meeting that baby, he so desperately wants you to change your mind. You can’t help but find it odd, he wants you to love the babies that you grow inside of you.

“Let’s go.” You respond. Uraume gives you a subtle nod before they turn around and leave the room. You follow behind, mentally preparing yourself to not fall for Sukuna’s dumb trick. Perhaps you should’ve turned him down last night, you're not the strongest when it comes to children.

You get to see a side of the palace that you’ve never come across. As you walk past everyone, you’re reminded that you hold some sort of power; a power that you forgot you held since Sukuna is constantly next to you. They bow down to you as you simply walk past them, as if you would actually do something to them.

Uraume leads you to the kitchen, where two women try to calm down the crying baby. Uraume is about to speak, but you shush them before they can say anything. You can read their next move, you don’t want the woman to stop simply to bow down to you.

“Let me hold him.” You tell the women, who have yet to realize who you are. They hand him over to you, desperate for a solution. The sound of a crying baby is absolutely not pleasant.

“Oh, look at you.” You gush at the boy who wails. He’s hungry with no way of feeding. “He’s too young for anything solid, huh?”

“Yes–” One of them speaks, until she realizes who you are. She bows down, and her colleague quickly follows suit. You nearly roll your eyes at the action, as if this wasn’t what you wanted when you asked Sukuna to marry you.

“Stand up.” You order, and they’re hesitant, but they do as you tell them. “What were you saying?”

The women look at each other, afraid of how to proceed. Regardless, they have to answer. “Yes, he’s too young for solids. We’ve never had a baby this young in our quarters, and we’re not sure how to proceed. We need a wet nurse but none of our servants are currently–”

“I’ll do it.” You cut her off as you stare down at the hungry baby. Oh, he looks so much like your Haru, you’d never forgive yourself if the baby died of hunger.

“My queen, that’s not appropriate. King Sukuna would be livid.” Uraume chimes in, though their words fall on deaf ears. 

“Uraume, I’m going back to my room. I’ll tell Hina to give the baby back.” You tell them, bouncing the baby, hoping that the cries die down; you know it’s helpless, the baby won’t stop until he’s fed. 

“My queen–” Uraume begins, but you begin to walk away. You’re smiling at the baby as he cries. Even when he’s crying, he looks so darn cute.

“Oh, how could someone abandon you? You’re so cute.” You tell him, as if you didn’t feel the same way about your babies– And you try not to think about it, but maybe Sukuna’s plan is working. There’s a twinge of guilt as you think about your refusal of loving your babies. 

Maybe the stupid monster has a brain after all.

You lied, you were planning to hand back the baby boy as soon as you fed him, but he’s still in your arms. He looks at you with his beautiful brown wide eyes, and a smile on his face. You can’t let him go. You don’t doubt that he’ll be treated well, but he can have anything he needs right beside your side. Additionally, he makes great company. 

“Oh, that stupid monster’s plan is working.” You mention as the baby yawns in your arms. You can’t fathom the thought of someone leaving this precious baby behind. Except, Sukuna’s sons will be nothing like this calm baby.

“Hina!” You call out, and the woman is in your room within seconds. She bows down her head, and waits for your order. You smile down at the baby in your arms as you tell her, “Get him a warm blanket.”

“King Sukuna–” She begins, but you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. 

“Did I ask about Sukuna?” You question, and she shakes her head. “Then you’ll do as I say. Get him a blanket.”

“Of course.” She responds, nodding her head before walking away. It’s a risk she’s willing to take, even though there’s the possibility that Sukuna won’t be too happy. You were supposed to simply meet the baby, not get attached. There’s nothing she can do now, the matter is out of her hands.

“I hope his babies are as cute as you are.” You murmur as you bounce the baby in your arms. His little eyes are shutting on their own, and you stick out your bottom lip as your little pal begins to drift to sleep.

Hina comes back with a blanket, and you almost snatch it from her hands to cover him. 

“When is the monster coming back?” You ask, knowing that Sukuna is going to force you to give him back. Sure, he suggested the idea but he won’t want you to keep the baby by your side. “Who’s going to feed him if Sukuna takes him from me?”

“I’ve ordered some servants to find a wet nurse, he’ll be fine.” Hina answers but you don’t like that answer. You’re not sure why though, it’s for his own good.

“Can I keep him with me forever?” You’re perhaps a little drastic. You’ve grown attached rather fast– Well, it’s not necessarily hard to grow attached when you’re lonely. 

“My queen, you know that King Sukuna would never allow it.” Hina reminds you, and you can’t help but sigh. She’s not wrong. “Plus, you’re expecting two wonderful babies.”

“They’re not going to be like this…” You comment, and Hina can’t help but chuckle. Babies are babies, whether they’re Sukuna’s kids or not.

“My queen, you do realize that they’re going to be babies.” She responds as your eyes linger on the sleeping baby.

“They’ll pop out with four arms and a tummy mouth—“ You begin, wondering how his babies will end up looking. How much different will they look compared to the rest?

“My queen, you do realize that they’re half of you as well?” She reminds you, and you furrow your eyebrows. They’re also your babies… They will carry your blood whether you accept it or not. “They’re not just King Sukuna’s babies, but yours as well.”

“Of course.” You nod, staring down at the baby. She’s right, even if they come out with four arms and a tummy mouth, they’re still your own blood. Whether you love them or not, won’t change anything.

“He’s here.” Hina informs you as she hears the loud footsteps from far away. For some odd reason, you feel your breath get caught up in your chest, knowing that he’s approaching. 

Hina bows down the moment the door to your room opens, only to not be acknowledged in any way by him. Sukuna’s eyes directly land on you, quickly going to the boy that you hold in your arms. He’s wrapped in a blanket that was made for your sons.

“Get out.” Sukuna says, and Hina stands up to do as he says. Though it’s not quick enough for him, because he proceeds to yell, “Get out!”

“Oh, you’ve woken him up.” You’re annoyed as you hear the crying baby. Just when he’s finally resting, he’s woken up by a screaming monster.

“Why were you feeding that baby?” Sukuna tries not to yell, knowing that he’ll just make matters worse by raising his voice. You’re shushing and bouncing the baby, trying to calm him down. Sukuna won’t be so accepting unless you tell him what he wants to hear.

You’ll tell him whatever he wants to hear.

“Your plan worked.” You tell him, standing up from your seat. The anger from Sukuna fades away, as curiosity overtakes him. “I’ll love your babies.”

His eyes widen, and he feels… Joyous? He’s happy. He likes the fact that his plan worked. Though he doubts that it’s going to be easy. You’re holding a baby in your arms, you must want something more.

“As long as you treat him like your own, I’ll love them.” You respond as you hand the baby to Sukuna. He glares down at the screaming child, wondering how the hell you’ve become so attached to this little human in a matter of hours.

“What?” Sukuna questions, refusing to hold the baby in his arms. You have to repeat yourself,

“Treat him as your own son, and I’ll be the mother you want me to be.”

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader's vacation continues and lines start to blur. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: happy new year to all of you, and sorry for the long wait! I was completely flashed by the love you showed for part 1 (THANK YOU!!!), and wanted to live up to your expectations. I’ll try to write part 3 as quickly as possible! Sorry if there's any typos, I edited this while severely hungover

The afternoon at the beach was relaxing and lighthearted after you agreed with Joel and stopped studying so much, and you find that apart from having a body that makes you clench your thighs together, he’s interesting to talk to. He doesn’t give you the same bullshit about university and acting responsibly, but rather accepts that there are things you dislike about your degree. He doesn’t offer advice on how to learn to enjoy those things, he just nods when you tell him you’ve learnt to deal with them. He treats you like an adult, someone who makes their own informed choices – something your life has been sorely lacking.

You head back to the rooms in comfortable silence, and you enjoy the way Joel’s arm almost grazes yours. When you think about the flutter in your stomach for too long it’s ridiculous, but it’s so easy to leave behind the morals and expectations of home when all you’re facing right now is an all-inclusive dinner and as many cocktails as you want. You aren’t planning on getting drunk if Joel isn’t, but you want to have fun tonight. You haven’t been on a real vacation in ages.

 You take another shower once you’re in your room, wash away the sunscreen and sea salt, until your hair is all soft again and you smell like shampoo. The hotel restaurant isn’t super fancy, but you feel like putting in a little effort, so you pick out a black dress you like, and wear your sandals again. You wonder if you’ll get cold – the days are burning hot, but at night there’s a cool breeze that might make you regret your choice of clothes. Fuck it, you think, you haven’t had an occasion to dress up in ages, and getting Joel all flustered again sure seems like reason enough. You grab your purse, phone and keycard, and head to the door.

Joel opens his door at the same time you do, and you swallow when you see he’s changed outfits, too. His hair is slightly damp and all curly, he’s wearing black jeans and a simple black t-shirt with an unbuttoned, flowy linen shirt over it. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal his forearms. It’s stylish. You didn’t expect Joel Miller to look stylish.

"Wow," you say with a smile. "You clean up nice."

Joel just huffs, but his eyes ghost over your dress for a second too long. He doesn’t answer.

When you get to the restaurant, Joel pulls out your chair for you, which earns him a blinding smile. Stylish and a gentleman, who would have thought? Back home he always seemed like a grumpy lumberjack to you, and although you do find him excruciatingly attractive in his flannels, you’re intrigued to find out what else you didn’t know about him.

"Is it really all-inclusive?", you ask, gazing at the menu and not quite believing you can order anything you’d like and not pay for it. 

"Sure. You want a cocktail?"

"If you’ll have one with me?"

Joel holds your gaze, but shakes his head.

"I think I prefer whiskey over that sweet stuff," he says, and you make a face.

"Fine, whiskey it is, then," you say, and Joel frowns.

"You don’t have to drink what I’m drinkin’. Have a cocktail."

This time you’re the one to shake your head.

"It’s no fun, having cocktails on your own. But I haven’t had whiskey in ages, maybe I like it better now."

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches.

"Ages, huh? How long have you been allowed to drink again?"

You smile, but don’t dignify his question with an answer, and after a moment Joel chuckles and looks back at the menu.

"Fine, I’ll have a Gin Fizz," he says, looking up again. "You?"

He wants to order a cocktail, just so that you can enjoy having one, too. Your stomach flutters.

"Joel, you don’t have t-"

"I know I don’t. I’m having a Gin Fizz."

There’s a finality to his tone, but his voice is friendly. You give him a reluctant smile, one that isn’t ironic or half-joking. He smiles back, and leans back in his chair, eyes still on yours. You study the menu again, this time having a closer look at the cocktails.

"Sex on the beach," you say seriously, and Joel snorts.

"Clever."

***

You do end up drinking a sex on the beach, and Joel actually enjoys his gin fizz. The food is delicious, Joel lets you try a piece of his steak and you offer him a bite of your fish, but he declines with a disgusted look on his face that makes you grin. No seafood for Joel Miller, then.

Joel orders you another cocktail when the waiter clears your plates, and you smile to yourself. He’s being courteous.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Miller?", you ask, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I think you’re managin’ that without my help."

He’s right, of course – your long day of traveling makes the buzz in your head more prominent, and although you’re nowhere near drunk, your tongue is a little looser than usually, and you find it much easier to hold Joel’s eye-contact.

"I’m glad I came here," you say all of a sudden, the thought fleeting, but true. "I needed a break."

Joel’s smile is honest, when he answers.

"I’m glad you came, too. It’d be boring, bein’ here on my own."

"Right," you say, "who would get you to drink cocktails? You’d be stuck drinking disgusting whiskey and wallowing in your loneliness."

Joel smiles, shaking his head slightly, and takes a sip of his Gin.

"You wanna head down to the beach?", you ask when your glasses are empty and you feel a little woozy from the second cocktail. Joel looks surprised.

"I love the sea at night," you say a little dreamily, voice trailing off.

"Sure. Let’s go," Joel just answers.

The air outside is cool, just like you anticipated, and you shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep the goosebumps at bay. Joel notices, and immediately shrugs out of his linen shirt, handing it to you. You stare at him.

"Take it," he insists, and you do, the fabric soft in your hands. You slip it on, the sleeves coming down to your fingertips, the collar smelling of Joel’s cologne. You wonder why it took you two cocktails to notice how good he smells. When you’re done rolling up the sleeves, you look up and find Joel watching you quietly. Your eyes meet – he looks away, and starts walking again.

You’re pleasantly tipsy, walking to the beach at night, wearing Joel Miller’s clothes and brushing his arm with yours every once in a while. It feels a little surreal.

"Aren’t you cold now?", you ask after a couple of minutes of quiet.

"No," Joel answers, his voice a little rougher than before, "’sides, you wear it better anyway."

You flush, and when you don’t answer, he looks at you.

"Jesus, sorry," he mumbles. "I didn’t…it slipped out. Just meant you look pretty, is all."

Your stomach swirls pleasantly, and you want Joel to put his arm around your shoulder, or kiss you, or take that shirt off again. You clear your throat.

"Thanks," you answer quietly, toying with the hem of the shirt. "I think you wore it well, too, though. Suits you."

Joel doesn’t answer, but when you glance at him, you notice the ghost of a smile on his face, half-hidden by his patchy beard.

You walk the rest of the way in contemplative silence, each of you lost in your thoughts. You’re always amazed to see the sea at night. The darkness somehow elevates its vastness, water and sky bleeding into each other at the near invisible horizon. It’s easy to forget about your exams here, with the whole expanse of the planet spread out before you, the relentlessly calm sound of the waves, and Joel’s scent in your nose. You sit down on an abandoned deck chair and watch Joel walk up to the water, pick up a seashell, and drop it into the water again. He seems content to be here, you think. Relaxed. You don’t know him well, but his body language seems more at ease than it did back home. Perhaps you’re not the only one who needed a break.

You get up again, and walk over to Joel, who smiles when he sees you coming.

"You were right," he says, "it’s different in the dark."

You know he means the sea, the beach, the lack of people around, the sand that burned your feet only hours ago now having a cooling effect. Still, his words leave room for interpretation and you don’t miss the way his gaze moves over your form in his shirt.

"Thanks for the cocktails," you say quietly, "and the shirt."

Joel looks over at you, but you don’t have the guts to look at him. You can’t quite be sure what the moonlight and scenery will make you do, not when he’s never looked more handsome, and you’re more than tipsy.

"You’re welcome," he says honestly. "I know you’re doin’ this for your Dad more than anything, but I hope you’re still havin’ fun."

He’s self-conscious, or something close to it, wondering how he could make this trip more enjoyable for you – so he orders cocktails he doesn’t like and lets you wear his clothes.

"I am having fun," you reassure him. "I’m at the beach at night wearing a guy’s shirt who got me all the cocktails I wanted, instead of studying at my desk for the millionth night in a row."

Joel chuckles.

"My Dad should break his leg more often," you sigh, digging the heel of your foot into the sand. Joel doesn’t answer.

When you walk back to the hotel, you feel the ghost of his hand on your lower back, not touching, but lingering, as if he instinctively wants to stir you in the right direction, or keep you from stumbling. It makes that flutter in your stomach reappear.

You pass reception to get to the elevators, and the same woman is still there, smiling when he recognizes you.

"You two enjoying the sea?", she asks.

"Very much, thank you," you answer, "we had cocktails and walked to the beach."

The lady looks pleased at how happy you seem and smiles at Joel.

"I’m glad to hear it! Well, you two enjoy your Daddy-daughter trip," she says, before answering the telephone that starts ringing just as you’re about to say good-night.

Joel’s brows are furrowed when you look at him, which makes you suppress a grin. The lady assuming he’s your father is clearly bothering him, and you get the feeling it might not entirely be about his age.

When you’ve made it up to your rooms, you turn to Joel to find him already watching you. He looks different here, in the harsh light of the corridor, dark shadows falling over his features, his form somehow looking broader.

"Breakfast at nine?", he asks you, voice quiet so as not to disturb any other guests in their rooms.

"Yeah," you say, and before you can change your mind, you kiss his cheek. His expression is unreadable, when you pull away.

"Goodnight," you say with a tired smile, before teasingly adding "Daddy."

Joel holds your eye contact, and doesn’t flush this time.

"Careful," he says gently, voice low and dark. You swallow.

Before you can forget, you shrug off his shirt, but Joel doesn’t move to take it from your outstretched hand. After a beat, his eyes flicker over your face.

"Keep it," he says curtly, "I like it on ya."

And then he’s gone, the door to his room shutting with a soft thud. You shake your head slightly, and press the soft linen fabric against your nose, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. You ache just at the thought of it having touched his skin, and him now wanting to see you in it, but it would feel like a violation if you relieved that ache now, even if Joel wasn’t there, so you ignore the dull throbbing between your legs best as you can and go to bed with Joel’s shirt right next to your bed.

***

The next morning you feel a little nervous about breakfast – something shifted between you and Joel after your good-bye in the hallway. He seemed so sure of himself when he told you he liked you in his shirt, so unwavering, and you’re a nervous wreck just thinking about saying good morning to him.

Instead of putting on the white sundress you wore yesterday, you slip into a bikini, a pair of comfortable shorts, and Joel’s linen shirt, half unbuttoned so that your necklace peeks out. This time you leave the sleeves un-rolled, liking how big it feels on you, a constant reminder of Joel’s size.

You wash your face and brush your teeth, but don’t shower since you’re going to have to do that in the evening anyway. Although you’re mostly excited to see Joel again, you also can’t wait to have your morning coffee and something to eat – you hope the breakfast buffet will be as good as dinner was.

You wait for Joel in the hallway, but when he doesn’t come out of his room, you knock on his door.

"One second," his voice comes from inside, and you wait leaning against the wall just like he did the day before. When he opens the door, you can’t suppress a smile – his hair is charmingly tousled from his sleep, he clearly didn’t know what to do with it without taking a shower first.

"Nice hair," you say, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel doesn’t answer, with his brows slightly furrowed he keeps staring at you. Anxiety floods your veins, and you wonder if it was the best idea to dress the way you did, if Joel might think of it as strange or creepy or pathetic.

"You’re wearing my shirt," he says, voice quiet and still rough from sleep. It’s not a question, just a statement, no judgement behind it. You swallow, watching his brown eyes trail over your arms, torso, your shorts.

"Yeah," you answer timidly, fighting the urge to cross your arms. "You said you liked it on me."

Joel’s eyes snap up to yours, and with all the courage you can muster up, you hold his gaze for several long seconds.

"I did."

Again, just a statement. One that doesn’t require an answer, but you feel like shrinking under Joel’s gaze, so you offer him an out out of the situation.

"I’ll take it off, if you want me to," you mutter, and quickly add "I’ll put on something else."

Joel watches you quietly, and finally runs a hand through his messy hair.

"No need, kid," he says with a defeated sounding exhale. "’M glad ya like it."

***

Breakfast is a welcome distraction from whatever happened in the hallway – you drink too much coffee, and try all of the delicious food offered: bacon and eggs, colorful fruit you have never seen before, yoghurt and pancakes. Joel sticks to coffee and toast, though he does steal one of the peaces of fruit from your plate.

"I’ll get one more cup," you say when you have drained the last of your coffee, and Joel chuckles.

"Might as well do a line," he says and you snort, but stay seated – he’s right, you should watch your caffeine intake. He watches you, and after a second raises an eyebrow.

"I didn’t mean anything by it. You drink as much coffee as you want."

His voice is apologetic and soft.

"No, I’ll do as you say," you answer, "or I’ll die of heart failure."

Something flashes over his face at those words, but you can’t pinpoint it. Still, your stomach flutters, when Joel doesn’t break the eye-contact.

After breakfast the two of you get your towels and the rest of your beach-belongings from your rooms, and Joel changes into his trunks again. You walk past reception quietly, the lady from the day before isn’t there, and Joel’s arm brushes against yours casually. Suddenly you wish you weren’t wearing his shirt, just to feel his skin against yours. It’s a little pathetic.

Joel gets you two deckchairs – the beach is still relatively empty – and you put on sunscreen. When you’re done with your limbs and stomach, you offer Joel the bottle.

"Do my back, please?"

"Sure," he mutters, taking the bottle from you, and gently stroking your hair out of the way. He’s quiet, holding you steady by the shoulder when you instinctively squirm away from the initial cold of the liquid on your skin, his hands calloused but gentle. From time to time, his fingers slip under the shoulder straps of your bikini, and you feel heat pool between your legs when he starts covering your lower back in sunscreen. His hand is dangerously close to the waistband of your swimsuit.

"All done," he says, closing the bottle. You raise an eyebrow.

"Don’t need sunscreen," he explains, "I don’t burn easy."

"You’ll get skin cancer," you argue. "Everybody needs sunscreen."

He huffs, but hands you the bottle and turns around to sit down on the deckchair. You watch his beautiful back, the way the skin ripples over his muscles, how broad and solid it seems. You squirt some of the sunscreen onto your hand and apply it to Joel’s shoulders, rubbing gently. He relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his muscles, and you move your hands more deliberately, focusing on his shoulders, until Joel’s head falls forward slightly, giving into the sensation.

"Good?", you ask, a little shy.

Joel hums, and you wonder if his eyes are closed, if he’s enjoying your touch so much he can’t form a full sentence. You dig the heels of your palms into his muscles, the sunscreen making the slide easy. His skin his littered in freckles and birthmarks, marked by years of working under the sun.

"You always apply sunscreen like that?", Joel asks suddenly, and you flush.

"Most people aren’t this tense," you quip back, fingers gliding over Joel’s neck. "Actually, nobody’s ever been this tense, I think."

He shakes his head slightly, but lets you carry on, working your way down his back, the tan line of his trunks visible and oh so tempting. You imagine pulling them down and try to refrain from clenching your thighs together.

When you’re done, Joel’s muscles feel a little looser, more relaxed, and he turns around to look at you.

"Thanks," he says quietly, and you nod. Now that he can see you, look you directly in the eye, it feels almost absurdly bold to have touched him like that. Still, things have started to unravel a little. Lines have blurred.

Although you don’t know where you get the courage from, you hold his gaze, put one hand on his shoulder, and squeeze.

"Any time, Joel," you answer, and watch him swallow. Then, his own hand comes up to yours, and you half think he’s going to remove yours, but he just loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist, eyes not leaving yours.

"That’s a dangerous game you’re playin’, kid," he says quietly, but doesn’t let go of you. You hope he never does.

"Do you…want me to stop?", you ask him, because you will if this is making him uncomfortable, if you read him wrong. He’s silent for a second.

"No," he says so quietly it’s almost inaudible. His thumb starts moving over your wrist, right over the pulse point, and it makes you weak in the knees. You didn’t know a touch as small as that one could be so erotic, but with Joel it seems, everything is. You fight to not let a whimper escape your mouth, and close your eyes for just a second.

"God," Joel mutters, more to himself than to you, "look at you."

Your eyes snap open when you feel him move, hand still locked around your wrist securely, and suddenly he’s towering over you. You gaze up at him, his eyes bright under the blazing sun, his hair still tousled, his beard patchy and flecked with grey. He’s all man, in a way you didn’t know you found desirable before him, but there is undeniable proof of your want leaking into your swimsuit, sticky and hot between your thighs.

He watches you, intense eyes moving over your face, your eyes, your mouth, your hands, your body in your nicest swimsuit, your throat as you swallow. His other hand comes up to stroke the hair away from your neck, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. Joel almost chuckles, but it’s more the ghost of a breath. You flush.

"It’s fucking stupid to go through with this," Joel says seriously, like he wants to inform you of it – as if you don’t know.

"Yes," you breathe, because he’s completely right.

"Your Dad would kill me, and rightly so," he adds.

"Oh, fuck my Dad," you answer, trying to reach out to touch Joel, but your wrist is still tightly locked in his grasp. You tug a little, but he doesn’t budge.

"You doin’ this to get back at him?"

You detect something in his voice you don’t like – uncertainty.

"No, Joel," you breathe, "God, no. Have you looked into a mirror recently?"

That makes him smile, and you wonder if he gets compliments a lot, but by the way his cheeks gain color, you don’t think he does. Stupid, stupid world, stupid people who came before you. He should be told every second of the day.

"It’s still stupid,“ he says, but his eyes are more intense than before now. You’re on holiday, away from all judgement. You can do whatever you want to do to each other.

"Thought I was the smart one in my family," you tease, reminding him of his words on the plane. You want him to lean down and finally kiss you, or throw you down on the deckchair and fuck you right there, your face pressed into his linen shirt. His thumb keeps moving over your wrist, relentlessly building tension.

"Take me to your room," you whisper, eyes wide, and anticipation pooling deep in your belly. Joel curses.

"You have any idea of the things I wanna do to you?"

His voice is low, dangerous, and you’d be at least a little afraid if this one anyone else. But it’s Joel, who lets you hate your degree without judgement, drinks cocktails he doesn’t like just so you can enjoy yourself, and through his permission allows you to stop studying, lets you enjoy this trip.

"Do them," you breathe, "I’ll let you do anything."

"Jesus fucking Christ, kid," he answers, and finally lets go of your wrist, one hand coming to rest on your waist, tugging you towards him, the other gently cradling your face. His breath ghosts over your mouth, and then he brushes your lips with his in a needy, slow kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and you open up for him willingly. He tugs your hips against him, making you whimper and feel his bulge dig into your stomach.

The only thing keeping you from pulling him out of his swimming trunks right then is the fact that there are people around, and you’re pushing it already with the way his hands grasp at your skin and his tongue licks in your mouth. Any further and you could be arrested for public indecency.

"Please," you ask him between kisses, "Please, Joel, just take me to your room."

His teeth dig into your lower lip, and you fight a moan.

"Ask me again," he says, voice a little wrecked, and the need you feel for him deep in your stomach burns white hot. He wants you to beg.

"Please," you say, like he isn’t stripping you of your dignity instead of your clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed, not when Joel groans at the sound.

"Alright, kid. I’ve got you.“

[nanavn]

[ID: a series of screenshots of a twitter thread by Sheila O'Malley @sheilakathleen.

Text: The year after my dad died was so bad I don't remember 90% of it. I moved to a new apt and was unable to unpack. For MONTHS. I was ashamed I couldn't unpack. How can you be UNABLE to unpack? Just open the g.d. boxes. That was the year I cried for 19 days. Straight. /1

My good friend David - whom I've known since high school - knew I was struggling and he felt helpless. He said "you are loved" "we need you". I was like, "Doesn't matter, but thanks." So he took a risk. It very well could have ended badly. I could have lashed out. /2

I could have been really REALLY offended. But he took the risk. He sent out an email to a group of local friends (w/out my knowledge) and said, "Sheila is struggling. She needs our help. Let's all go over there and unpack her apartment for her. Bring food. Let's make it fun." /3

David sent me an email saying "will you be home Thursday night? Can I stop by?" I said "Sure." Sitting surrounded by 200 unpacked boxes. /4

At 6 pm on Thursday night the doorbell rang and 10 of my friends barged in, bearing platters of food, cleaning products, and complete unconcern for my 'wait … you CAN'T COME IN HERE I HAVEN'T UNPACKED YET" protestations. They ignored me and got to work. /5

They unpacked my boxes. They put away my 1,500 books. They hung pictures for me. They organized my closet and put away all my clothes. Meanwhile, someone set up a taco-making station in the kitchen. People brought beer. By the end of the night, my apartment was all set up. /6

I literally was unable to do THE SIMPLEST THINGS. And nobody judged me. They were like superheroes sweeping in. One friend arrived late, stood in the hallway, looked at me and said, "PUT ME TO WORK." /7

One of my friends basically took over hanging all of my posters and pictures. "I'm really good at measuring stuff. Let me put all these up in your hallway." I hovered, not wanting to give up control: "wait … put that one there maybe?" She said, "Go away." I did. /8

And she was so much better at hanging stuff than I was! Here are my friends putting away my books. /9

Here's a break for dinner. Please note that my friend Sheila's dinner plate is resting on my DVD player. /10

I was overwhelmed at the sight of all of my crazy friends turning themselves into Santa's workshop. On my behalf. W/out asking me. They just showed up and barged in. I was embarrassed for like 10 minutes but they were all so practical and bossy I had no choice but to let that go.

At the end of the night, I looked at my friend's husband - a quiet tactiturn guy who drives a tugboat on the Hudson - practical, man of few words - and I just looked at him, speechless, not knowing how to say Thank You, especially to this tough resilient self-sufficient man.

He looked at me, saw the look on my face, understood the look, understood everything that was behind it - and said, “Listen, baby, what we did today was a barn-raising.”

That's the end. The "ask for help" advice is well-meaning but not really thought through. There's shame, there's enforced helplessness, there's the feeling you're not worth it, etc. My friends didn't wait for me to ask. They showed up. They took over. They didn't ask.

When they all swept out of there 4 hours later, my place was a home. Not only was everything put away - but now it had a memory attached to it, a group memory, friends, laughing, dirty jokes, hard work. These are the kinds of friends I have. Be that kind of friend to others.

To reiterate: this plan could have backfired. I very well could have been offended, insulted, hurt. David took that risk. Being a friend takes commitment. A willingness to take that risk.

End ID]

Text from https://x.com/sheilakathleen/status/1005116845240848385, unrolled with threadnavigator.com

This is literally the most heart warming story I have read on Twitter so far. I think this is exactly what friends should do, and I feel everyone deserves people like this.

[writingwithciara]

across the hall; part 1 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 1.4k

pairing: quinn hughes x single mom reader

notes: probably going to make this into a mini series because i have too many ideas to fit them in 1 fic. enjoy

y/n was walking into her apartment when her mom called, telling her how worried she was.

"mom, will you relax? i'm going to be fine. it's safer for me out here anyway." y/n walked into her apartment and set her keys down on the counter. her daughter took her shoes off and ran to her bedroom.

"have you met any of your neighbors yet, sweetie?"

"no, mom. i haven't met anyone in the building yet and i don't plan on it any time soon. i've been really busy with work and stuff and just haven't had the time nor the interest in doing so. plus, you know how abby is with strangers."

"i would feel better if you made at least one friend, dear. you're all alone in vancouver. anything could happen to you."

"what if i meet the wrong person, mom? ever think about that?"

"that doesn't worry me because i know you'll trust your instincts."

"and that's why i haven't bothered to talk to anyone in the building yet. besides, it's only my first week here. there's still plenty of time."

"okay fine. but i want you to keep me updated at all times."

"yes ma'am." y/n switched the phone from one ear to the other. there was a knock on the door and she jumped. "i gotta go mom. dinner's here."

"alright. love you sweetie. give abby a kiss for me."

"will do. love you too. bye." she hung up the phone and opened the door. "about time. i'm starving." she looked up from her wallet. "wait, you're not the pizza guy."

"no, i am not. my name is quinn and i live across the hall there." he turned and pointed to the door behind him. "i noticed you just moved in recently and i thought i'd be neighborly and come say hi, see if you needed any help with anything."

"that's very kind of you, quinn. but so far, i've got things handled. thank you though."

"well, if you ever need my help with anything, you know where to find me." he smiled and turned back towards his own apartment. just as y/n was about to shut her door, quinn turned back around. "i'm sorry. i completely forgot to ask for your name."

"it's y/n."

"mommy, i'm hungry." abby came up to y/n and looked at her.

"i know, sweetie. the pizza should be here shortly."

"okay. i'll be in my room." the girl turned around and headed down the hallway.

"she's adorable. how old is she?"

"she's 5, almost 6."

"they're always the cutest at that age." quinn smiled. "well, it was nice to finally meet you, y/n. see you later." he waved and entered his own apartment, leaving y/n to finally close her door.

"hey, abby. want a snack to hold you over until dinner gets here?"

"yes please." abby came out of her room to grab a snack from her bucket and headed back to play with her dolls.

y/n was about to send a text to her mom, letting her know she finally met a neighbor, when there was another knock on her door.

"this better be the pizza." she opened the door and saw quinn standing there holding a pizza box.

"they brought it to the wrong apartment. but don't worry. it's paid for. the guy didn't have time to walk across the hall so i paid him."

"you really didn't have to do that, quinn. but thank you." y/n accepted the pizza and looked at him. "would you maybe want to come in for a slice or two?"

"sure." quinn followed y/n into her apartment and sat on one of the stools at the island.

"abby, dinner's ready."

"yay. pizza!" the little girl yelled and ran out of her room. she stopped in her tracks when she saw quinn. "hi."

"hello."

"quinn, this is my daughter abigail. sweetheart, this is quinn. he lives across the hall."

"do you have kids?"

"no. not yet."

"how old are you?"

"i'm 24."

"oh, so is mommy. she just had a birthday."

"did you really?" quinn turned his attention from abby to y/n.

"no." y/n set the plates down on the island and helped abby into her chair. "well, i didn't just have a birthday. it's been a few months now."

"oh. well i'll be 25 next month."

"in case i don't see you, happy birthday." y/n smiled and began eating her slice of pizza.

"thank you." quinn smiled back and looked at abby,

"shit." y/n pulled her ringing phone out of her pocket and answered it. "hello? yeah. i'll be right there." she hung up and looked at quinn. "i barely know you but i just got called into work for an emergency and abby's normal sitter is busy tonight. would you mind-"

"go to work. i'll watch your daughter."

"you are a lifesaver quinn." y/n ran to her room to get ready. she came out 5 minutes later. "this is crazy. it's my first night off and i was hoping to relax but of course there's an emergency when the hospital is short-staffed."

"oh, you work at the hospital? how are you liking it?"

"it keeps me busy and pays well. but it's a very demanding job. i don't get to spend as much time with abby as i would like."

"that's alright, mom. i understand."

"i love you, sweetheart. now, be on your best behavior for quinn. if you're good, we can get you some new toys this weekend. how's that sound?"

"like an easy task." abby smiled and looked at quinn.

"okay great. thanks again, quinn." y/n smiled and walked out the door.

"alright, abby. what do you want to do?"

"dolls, makeover, tea party?"

"sounds like fun. shall we add music?"

"yes! dance party! mommy never has time for one."

"then we shall have one." quinn went on his music app and put on some popular music that was age appropriate and followed abby to her room to get the makeover started.

after a few hours of playtime, they settled down and quinn put on a random disney movie. abby cuddled up to his side and fell asleep within the first 20 minutes.

when the movie was finished, quinn put on another one and waited for y/n to get home.

he was halfway through the third movie when y/n walked through the door.

"i am so sorry. it took a lot longer than i thought but-" she stopped when quinn put his finger to his lips to shush her. "awe look at that. she must really like you."

"why do you think that?"

"she never falls asleep for anyone other than me. and she loves her usual sitter."

"oh." quinn smiled and adjusted his legs as y/n picked abby up.

"mommy?" abby rubbed her eyes and when she saw it was her mom, she just cuddled into her more.

y/n put abby in her bed and made sure she went back to sleep before she headed back to quinn.

"thank you so much for doing this. i didn't expect to get called into work tonight." she went to hand quinn some money but he stopped her.

"you don't have to pay me. i had a lot of fun."

"was she good?"

"very good. and such a polite child."

"what did you guys do?"

"after you left, we played with her barbies for about half an hour. and when she got bored of that, we had a tea party and then she did my 'makeup'." quinn chuckled. "oh. and we had a mini dance party before i put on some movies for her to settle down to. she was out within the first 20 minutes."

"well, sounds like you had a good time and honestly, i can't thank you enough for watching her. i owe you."

"it's fine. like i said, i had fun. consider that my payment."

"you're the best." y/n walked with quinn out into the hall. he walked up to his door and looked back.

"if i'm not busy & you ever need someone to watch abby, i would be more than happy to do it."

"really? oh my gosh. you really are the sweetest person i've ever met."

"what can i say? my mother raised me right." quinn flashed her a smile and opened his door. "good night, y/n."

"good night, quinn."

[demonic0angel]

hasn't slept in a week dead tired Jason knocking on his neighbors door: hey Jazz would you mind watching Robin and Superboy for me so I can sleep? *holds out a scruffed Damian and Jon very much in civis* Thanks, I'll be back in an hour *stumbles back to his place*

Jon and Damian: 😮 Watch who? Who did he say you have to watch

“… we’re not Superboy or Robin,” Jon said nervously.

Jazz just blinked. Then she nodded slowly and said, “Yes. I would guess not, since you two don’t have flying powers, right?”

“Us two?” Damian said, very tense.

Jazz nodded and shrugged. “Yes. Since Robin and Superboy can both fly, right? I’ve never seen them in person, so I have no idea.”

Damian and Jon shared a look and then nodded at her, clearly not wanting to push it. Jazz just smiled idly and said, “Well, I can’t watch over you two here, so how about I take you to Arkham Asylum?”

“…you’re taking us to Arkham? Arkham Asylum?” Damian said, sounding appalled.

Jazz blinked and nodded. “I still have work. Would you two like to come with me to tour? I don’t have any meetings with any of the more… volatile patients for today. I can bring you around and you two can volunteer and help around.”

Jon looked eagerly at Damian, who glanced at his overexcited friend and then at Jazz. She smiled encouragingly and said with a smile, “I have a gun that I can use to protect you two, and I can fight. If it makes you feel better.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at her and then nodded once. He held Jon’s hand determinedly, which made Jazz’s lips twitch before she smoothed her face over in a flash.

Jazz beamed. “Great! Let’s go!”

————

Jason blinked. “Damn. They’re absolutely knocked out.”

Both Damian and Jon were completely and utterly worn out from the day they had. Usually, at this time, they’d be bouncing and nagging and screaming for patrol or excitement or games, but whatever sacrifice Jazz must’ve killed in order for peace must’ve been extremely valuable and to a very agreeable god.

“What did you do?” Jason asked, in awe.

She giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “Just brought them around. They were so sweet! Although, I do want to tell you that Damian isn’t getting the amount of sleep that he needs for his age, and don’t look at me like that, I know what your nighttime job is, he still needs sleep. You should encourage him by making him associate bedtime with rewards, and I think that’ll make him less grumpy. He was very cute though! And Jon is an absolute sweetheart, I don’t mind watching them again if you’d like.”

Jason just smiled as he picked the two kids up in his arms. “I’ll give your advice to Dick and B. Thanks. Sorry for just dumping them on your doorstep.”

“You’re tired from the case, I get it. I don’t mind, but next time, I’d like a warning, okay?”

“Sure thing, Princess. Thank you again. I’ll cook dinner for us on Thursday?”

She nodded. Then she paused and said, “Also, you called them Robin and Superboy when you brought them here. Did you know that?”

Jason froze and then cursed to himself. “Damn! I knew I was forgetting something. Sorry, Princess, I forgot to tell them that you knew my identity so—”

“Hmm, yes, I figured, since they seemed really wary of me at first. It’s okay though, we had fun in the end and I think they like me a little now.” She giggled and then said, “I have to get back to my papers, but I’ll see you tonight, dearest!”

With another kiss, she ushered him out the door and waved goodbye before she left.

Jason smiled dreamily after her before bringing the kids to his bike, where he held them carefully as he drove though Gotham streets.

Damian woke up at some point, rubbing his eyes and yawning. At these times, Jason could kind of understand why Dick seemed to think he was the cutest thing in the universe. “Did you have a good rest, sleeping beauty?” He teased.

Damian nodded and said, “Next time Father wants you to babysit, don’t bother. Just bring us to your girlfriend and leave.”

Jason almost swerved. Damian hissed and held onto Jon, who grumbled and nearly knocked Jason off of his bike with his sleepy headbutt. “What! Damn, what the hell did she do for you to like her so much?!”

Damian smirked. “She has guts, smarts, skill, and compassion for the poor and unfortunate. You have chosen well for a sister-in-law and I expect you to marry in less than 3 years, understand?”

Jason looked at him like he was crazy. He appreciated the support, but he was starting to feel like Jazz might’ve replaced his brother with someone else. “… what did you three do all day?”

Damian smiled with all of his teeth. “She brought us to Arkham Asylum to shadow her work and then she defended us when one of the inmates broke out. She can perform a magnificent takedown with no hands.“

Jon also spoke up, blinking sleepy eyes, “She also let us meet Killer Croc! And we also met Poison Ivy! It was cool!”

“You should also tell her the truth at some point. We told her that you have horrific, delusional dreams because you can’t sleep and that’s why you lied about our identities.”

Jason just stared.

Yeah, that last part was definitely the usual Damian.

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Flirting with fire

During an innocent dinner with friends, a playful question about Wanda spirals into an unexpected revelation.

“Don’t you think Wanda is beautiful?” Carol asked out of the blue as the four of you sat having dinner. The question cut through the casual chatter like a sharp knife, and you froze momentarily, unsure of the intent behind her words.

You turned your head to the left, locking eyes with the witch, who was already staring at you with a curious glint in her gaze. “Mm, yeah,” you replied cautiously. “She is gorgeous.”

“Thanks, honey,” Wanda said with a small smile, her tone sweet but tinged with something mischievous, almost as if she were testing the waters.

Carol, not one to let the conversation falter, leaned in with an amused grin. “Weren’t you single?” she asked, her blue eyes narrowing with mock curiosity.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized where this conversation was heading. You leaned closer to Carol, whispering frantically, “What are you doing?” trying desperately to catch the thread of control slipping through your fingers.

Before Carol could answer, Natasha’s attention shifted sharply to you. Her green eyes were piercing as she asked, “Are you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah, but I don’t see why that matters,” you replied, your voice more defensive than you intended.

Wanda’s smile widened as she casually speared another bite of food with her fork. “Good to know,” she murmured, her tone laced with amusement.

“And why is that?” you asked, the nervous energy bubbling up as you tried to regain some semblance of composure. Perhaps a bit of flirtation would help.

Wanda tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself?” she teased, her words an open challenge.

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, your voice low, as if daring her to continue.

Natasha suddenly interjected, her voice soft but deliberate. “My love, can you pass me the salt?” she asked, her words directed at Wanda. The term of endearment hit you like a freight train, leaving you confused and more than a little embarrassed.

“‘My love?’” you repeated under your breath, glancing between Natasha and Wanda. Surely, you must have misheard.

Carol couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. “Yeah, they’re girlfriends,” she said, her amusement clear as she gestured between the two women.

Heat rushed to your face as you struggled to process the revelation. “Oh,” you stammered, feeling utterly foolish. You turned to Natasha, who was now watching you with an expression bordering on smug satisfaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you two were together.”

Natasha’s smile deepened, her green eyes glittering with amusement as she leaned closer to you, her voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Don’t worry, darling,” she purred. “But if you keep flirting with my girl, you might have to start flirting with me too. I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

Wanda chuckled softly, placing her hand gently on Natasha’s arm in a soothing gesture. “What Natasha is trying to say,” she began, her tone playful but warm, “is that there’s always room for one more... if you’re interested.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your mind reeling as you tried to process whether she was joking—or serious. Natasha smirked knowingly, her gaze lingering on you for a moment too long, as if daring you to respond.

Carol leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a wide grin. “Well,” she said, clearly reveling in your dilemma, “this just got a lot more interesting.”

You opened your mouth to reply but found yourself at a loss for words, the air around the table charged with possibility.

[bruhstories]

Bet I

p.2?

summary: in-ho got a cat, and he needs a cat sitter while he is away on his business trip. who knew that meeting you would turn into a bet, a philosophy of what is moral and what is not? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader's background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, few mentions of Y/N (again, for plot purposes) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: i have no idea how many chapters this will have, but i'm trying to write each chapter for each day of the games. it'll all make sense at the end lol. i tried to do as much research about seoul and south korea in general, so please be gentle! i'm just an eastern european gal

tagging: @full-sunnies @xodilfluvr

In-ho got a cat — a green-eyed, silver-tipped Korat he named Eunjoo. He thought about getting a dog, but dogs were high-maintenance, loyal and loving, and his job didn't allow him a loving pet. It didn't allow him to get attached to humans or animals. But Eunjoo was aloof and independent, and only rubbed against his leg when she wanted food. She refused to be handled and rarely played with the toys In-ho got her, but the cat was a necessary soul in his empty penthouse. It still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his blackened heart, but it was better than coming home to nothing and no one.

Trouble came when In-ho had to leave for eight days for the 32nd Squid Game. He quite obviously couldn't bring Eunjoo with him, and he couldn't let her starve, either. Not only that, but her litter boxes had to be cleaned regularly, and she needed fresh water daily, which left him with only one option — getting a cat sitter, as stupid as that sounded. In-ho felt ridiculous typing the post on a website for dog-walkers and pet sitters, but he did it nonetheless.

Businessman going on an eight day trip. In need of an experienced person to do home visits twice a day for my Eunjoo. 30,000 won per day. Based in Gangnam-gu, Seoul. 

He attached a picture of the cat along with his email, and waited. There was enough time to select a sitter before he left, and he browsed several profiles of pet sitters. Most of them had fantastic reviews, but asked for more money. Typical, In-ho thought. How typical for people to ask for more than necessary. It wasn't as though he wasn't willing to pay more — he had enough money, and would gladly spend it on Eunjoo — but it was the greed that disgusted him. The audacity to ask for 70,000 won a day to feed a cat and change her water was insane.

In-ho closed his laptop and left it on his coffee table in the living room, then walked into the kitchen to feed Eunjoo. She came from her hideout at the sound of a can opening, cautious of her surroundings, then rubbed her head against In-ho's leg, patiently waiting for her food. The cat didn't immediately eat. Instead, Eunjoo waited for her owner to sit down and have his dinner, and the corners of his mouth turned into a half-smile. Better than most people, In-ho thought. She wasn't greedy, she was understanding in ways some humans couldn't be. And so, he reheated yesterday's bulgogi and sat down with a side of freshly cooked rice. Only then did Eunjoo eat her dinner, checking on him from time to time to make sure he was also eating.

Ding!

His phone lit up with a notification. In-ho unlocked it and opened the email he had just received from a pet sitter.

Good evening, sir! My name is Y/L/N Y/N and I would like to meet Eunjoo. I live in Guryong Village and can take the bus to Gangnam-gu whenever you need me to, as I am quite flexible with my schedule, but I need to be completely transparent with you. I've only taken care of my cousin's cat over summer, so I am not the experienced sitter you are looking for, but I am asking you to please give me a chance. Have a good evening!

In-ho scoffed at the words on his screen. He was specifically looking for someone with experience, but he appreciated the honesty. It was a rare trait nowadays, and he was a fair man who gave everyone equal chances. It was the root of his job, after all.

Tomorrow morning, 9 o'clock, Bongeunsa-ro 103-gil, across the street from Shinhan Bank. I'll pick you up from downstairs. Don't be late.

The clack of your heels irked you as you hurried down the street from the bus stop to the address provided by the cat owner. It was a sound you weren't used to, but you needed to make a good impression when lacking experience. People all around you were dressed in expensive suits and dresses, clothes you could only dream of wearing, and the cars that swerved across your path, nearly running you over, looked like they cost as much as your house. It wasn't the first time you walked around Gangnam-gu, but it was the first time you spent more than five minutes surrounded by people who lived lavishly while you survived on Samyang Hot Chicken Ramen Stew.

And yet, you wouldn't trade your instant noodles for samgyeopsal or bossam if it meant selling your soul. Because that was the price to pay for riches and luxury, wasn't it? No, you would make ends meet somehow and live an honest life without becoming a coldhearted monster, just like your father taught you.

You checked that the address in the email matched your location, and waited for someone to talk to you, unsure how they would even recognise you. Although, on second thought, the thin, flimsy cotton of your dress and loose threads around the hem were a dead giveaway that you didn't belong in Gangnam-gu. You didn’t belong amongst the rich.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?"

Turning on your heels, you were met by the darkest eyes you had ever seen, eyes that looked as though they had both witnessed and committed unspeakable atrocities. And yet, there was a strange remorse in them. The man looked around 45 years old but not a single gray hair on his head, which was ironic, because you probably had more white strands hidden in your locks. Your gaze darted down at his extended hand, and you shook it while bowing down as a sign of respect. 

"You must be Mr. Hwang. I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I promise I won't let you down if you give me a chance!"

Oh, you were a talker. In-ho had met your kind before, aimlessly sleepwalking through life, serving no greater purpose except for entertaining those who rid the world of gamblers, addicts, beggars and thieves. Not that you were in any of those categories — In-ho didn't know you that well yet — but the way you presented yourself made him think you would have made a suitable player in the game.It was too late to recruit you now. Perhaps next year, if you made it that far.

You followed Mr. Hwang into the elevator, surprised that it wasn't stopping until reaching the last floor of the building, and when the doors opened, they revealed a small hallway with just one apartment. He had no neighbours above or around him, and you couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely it must've been. Surely his wife or girlfriend kept him company, or perhaps he had children — In-ho did look old enough to be your father.

He unlocked the multiple locks on his door — he must have been really rich — and invited you in. For a moment, a split second, you wondered if you had made a mistake coming there. The man could be a serial killer for all you knew, and with almost no neighbours, who would even hear you scream? You heard stories about wealthy people who took pleasure in hurting others. The lack of pictures of a wife or children only strengthened that doubt, but the intrusive thought soon dissipated when, from the corner of your eye, you spotted a silver tail hanging from a dining chair. 

Paying no mind to the tall double fridge, or the black U shaped velvet sofa that could fit your entire extended family, or even the view from his floor-to-ceiling windows, you kicked off the uncomfortable heels and got down on all fours, crawling closer to Eunjoo before sitting on the tiled floor with your legs crossed. It caught In-ho completely off guard — unpredictability was something that bothered him. Usually when he brought girls over they would bombard him with a million questions about his job, his car, his clothes, his bank account. You didn't, and it both infuriated and intrigued him. But then again, he brought you there with a different purpose.

"What are you doing exactly?" In-ho circled around you like a hawk, watching you intently. 

"I've read that it's better to allow cats to familiarise themselves with people instead of forcing affection onto them." You sat still, chin tilted upwards to look at him with innocence in your eyes. "I may not be experienced, sir, but I did my research."

He wasn't particularly impressed by your research skills, not even when Eunjoo jumped from the chair and walked around you, curious yet apprehensive. One paw hovered above the floor in mid-air, and her tail was lowered, almost touching the ground, as the cat slowly and cautiously approached you, sniffing the hand you extended. 

"So, what do you do for a living?" You broke the spell, not on Eunjoo but on In-ho, who was watching you try to befriend his cat. He hadn't realised he had been staring for longer than he should have until you spoke with disinterest in your voice. You didn't really care what his job was.

"Business." He simply said and you chuckled at his response. "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought it would be nice to make small talk while we wait for Eunjoo to get comfortable." You shrugged. "But it's fine if you don't want to talk about that, sir."

Sir. It sounded so different coming from you and not one of his subordinates at the facility. In-ho quietly pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, but Eunjoo had finished inspecting you. She lifted her tail, the tip curled — a sign of playfulness — and you scratched her chin.

"Good girl, Eunjoo! I'm sorry, I don't have any treats." You sat up after the cat lost interest in you and hid behind the sofa.

"So you're inexperienced and unprepared." His voice was cold and judgemental and you lowered your head in shame.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I don't have a great financial situation, that's why I need this job. I can water plants and clean the house, I can even do your laundry and iron your shirts, and I don't want any extra money, just the payment for cat sitting." You sounded so desperate it was pathetic. "Please."

The last bit of your sentence was what caught In-ho's attention. No extra money? Who in their right minds wouldn’t charge more for additional services? Were you planning on stealing from him while he was away? Not that it mattered — he'd find you and kill you upon his return from the island if you did. However, he found it to be an interesting game, a bet of sorts. You would win if you were honest for all eight days. He would win if you stole from him and abused his kindness.

"You're hired." In-ho nodded, the look of surprise mixed with gratitude on your face making him feel like some sort of god.

"I swear you won't be disappointed in me, sir. I'll leave the house spotless every day, and I will take good care of Eunjoo!" You nodded eagerly, beaming at him.

"I know you will. She takes breakfast at 7 and dinner at 9, and there is an automatic feeder set at 2 pm for lunch." He explained and you took your phone out to quickly take notes. "Make sure you change her water in the morning and at night, and scoop her litter boxes every time you're here."

"...scoop the poop twice a day. Got it." You mumbled while typing. "Do I give her wet food in the mornings and evenings?"

"Yes, and please check that the automatic feeder is stocked. You will find all her cans and kibble in this cupboard." In-ho walked into the kitchen and showed you where Eunjoo's food was. There was more cat food in that cupboard than you had in your house.

"Perfect. Where is the bin room located?"

"Underground. The code is 456654."

"Thank you, Mr. Hwang! I won't let you down. Oh, I should give you my phone number, right?" You asked, feeling a bit awkward for being so straightforward. 

"Whatever would I need your number for?" He almost laughed. 

"How else would you see Eunjoo?"

"Right. Forgot about that." In-ho scratched the back of his head. He couldn't exactly tell you that there were cameras everywhere in his house.

"Two more questions. Am I allowed to play music or movies on your TV and could I take a shower after cleaning? I'm bringing spare clothes and my own towel and soap."

"Yes, of course you can. Please help yourself to anything you need. I trust you'll figure out how the coffee machine or dishwasher work." He nodded. 

"Yeah, I'll figure it out." You lied. You had never used a dishwasher before.

"Great. I leave in three days. Please be here the day after my departure. Here's the spare key."

"Thank you, sir!" You bowed and walked to the door to put your shoes back on. "Good luck on your trip!"

"Thank you, miss. Good luck to you, too." 

The bet was placed, the game was on.

[strwberri-milk]

a fic where MC gets a promotion and so she prepares a nice candle light or whatever romantic dinner to tell Zayne about her promotion. On the other side, a nurse from the Hospital already told Zayne about mc's promotion and now Zayne thinks mc doesn't find him important, he just starts having sad upset negetive thoughts and even gets angry at her...but when he gets home he finds the romantic dinner setup and MC waiting in a beautiful dress.....angst to fluffy maybe slightly suggestive too

Ty<3

just a heads up i dont really write fics unless i come up w the premise myself! so heres jsut the standard hc format i use! also kinda messy of that nurse ngl but why you going around talking to his coworkers like that [eyes] /lh also i dont acc see him getting angry so ive messed w this a little bit to fit how i see him!

Zayne doesn't react when the nurse gives him the news. He doesn't want to come off as angry or anything but he also is aware that you have a positive relationship with the people he works it from the sheer amount of times you come to visit him.

He does start checking his phone a little more frequently, waiting to see if you'll text him anything that gives him a hint about what that nurse was mentioning. He knows you were gunning for one at work but had no idea what was happening as you'd been silent about it as of late. He did want to ask about but was trying to wait for the perfect moment, not sure when that would be. He tries not to let the notion that you forgot to tell him something that important bother him too much and is...generally successful as long as he's busy with work.

The drive home has him trying to figure out how to broach the topic, so distracted he almost breezes right past you in the kitchen. You stare at him, confused by the focused look on his face until he meets your gaze, raising a brow at your attire and the dinner you have set up. You immediately tell him the great news, any sour emotions he might have felt dissipating.

In bed after celebrating, Zayne finally asks why you told his colleagues before telling him. It takes you a second to register what he's talking about. You finally put the pieces together, telling him that you didn't mean to - you were just waiting for him one evening and were so excited so when you recognised the nurse you couldn't help but spill the beans. You'd thought you'd sworn them to secrecy but clearly not, making a mental note to be more careful next time to avoid any future misunderstandings. Zayne's just happy to have cleared it up, knowing all along it wasn't intentional but glad to hear you say it anyway.

[finelinevogue]

hi!! can I get an azriel fic where he and the reader had a fight before a battle or mission and then she is presumed dead so he spends his days spiraling with guilt and he misses her a lot and that stuff. And then when she makes it back he finally confesses his feelings to her and happy ending :) bonus if she's rhys' sister but not necessary. thank u so much and happy new year!!

please come back

thank you so much for your request - i hope this lived up to expectations since i’ve wanted to write a fic like this for ages 💫

word count - 1.6k

“Where is she?”

“Az.. We… We don’t—.”

“I said where is she?” Azriel bellowed, readying Truthteller for anything.

Rhys rubbed a bloody hand over his chin whilst Cassian hung his head low.

Rhys looked at Azriel with those deep violet eyes, conveying a whole conversation to him without having to use any words.

Truthteller dropped to the ground.

Azriel followed.

His knees let out an earth shattering crack as he crumbled onto the floor. His whole body went slack, his entire demeanour changing from how he had been seconds before.

How evil a few seconds could turn life into.

“No.” He whispered to the wind.

“Az…”

“No!” He screamed, spit and blood flying from his lips - blood from the battle which he didn’t feel like they’d won anymore.

Why had any of that been worth it?

Days of war and fighting, and for what?

The peace and safety of the Night Court wad restored once more, but was life worth truly living without his person living beside him? He couldn’t even comprehend the thought of figuring that question out.

He could feel the bond slipping away. That once golden-feel thread, rusting and greying away.

Azriel tried pulling on the bond with all he had, whispering pleads under his breath. “Please, please.” He pulled and pulled, but the void when nothing pulled back was too empty to deal with.

“I’m sorry, brother.” Rhys said, kneeling down in front of Azriel. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell me it isn’t true.” Azriel looked from his blood-caked hands and into his brother’s eyes once more.

Azriel’s own eyes pooled with tears. He didn’t think he had any energy left to think, let alone cry and yet the tears would not stop falling.

His body rocked as his cries took over him.

He felt like the world was ending and he was ending with it.

He pulled that bond again, wishing for anything to give him a sign that you were at least trying to pull back - to give Azriel reason to believe you were still there - but all he felt was nothing.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

The sun was setting when Azriel woke up.

He sat up in your once shared bed, holding himself up by his hands behind him.

He looked from the setting sun to your side of the bed. He’d set up your pillows so it looked like your body was underneath the sheets. They had dents in from where he’d been holding them at night - trying to replicate the feeling of you.

He can’t believe you were gone.

Azriel took one of his hands and placed it over his heart, tugging at that thread - he wasn’t giving it up so easily. He could feel it still there, only it felt distant. Distant didn’t mean forever gone, though.

And so he pulled.

Every morning - or evening - he rose, he pulled.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

“You look…” Cassian started as Azriel entered the kitchen.

Cassian was sat at the table eating some bread and sauce - forever snacking.

“Handsome?” Azriel asked in a teasing voice

“You don’t want me to answer that honestly.” Cassian shook his head, tearing off a bit of bread and throwing it across the table for Azriel to catch.

Azriel caught it with one hand and immediately took a bite from it. It didn’t take an intelligent someone to know that Cassian was just trying to make sure Azriel remembered to eat, seeing as he kept ‘forgetting to’ recently.

Azriel hadn’t attended family dinner in 2 days - the battle having ended 3 days ago.

Cassian was impressed that Azriel was even out of bed - proud, even.

“Answer me this, then.” Azriel counter offered, “If… If you thought there was still a small chance the bond was still alive between you and Nesta, even though she’d… gone, would you pull it? Persue it?”

“Without hesitation.” Cassian nodded.

Azriel nodded in agreement.

“Why—.”

“It’s nothing.” Azriel shook his head, leaving the bread on the table and disappearing from the room once more.

“What a weird guy.” Cassian spoke to no-one as he dipped his bread into a spicy-red sauce.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

You looked peaceful.

Madja had dressed you in lilac robes - traditional to your homeland for your upcoming memorial service.

You were lying to rest in a room away from the main part of the House of Wind. You looked so beautiful. Your Fae skin had not yet withered or cracked.

“Hello, my love.” Azriel said, brushing the tips of his fingers over your cheek.

Azriel had been coming down to speak to you every spare moment he had, not wanting to miss a single second he had to watch over you.

“Are you ready to come back yet?”

He tugged that bond and he tugged it hard.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

It was the third morning.

Azriel was at his desk, writing away as he often did in the mornings. His diary was the one constant - other than you - that he had always known he could turn to each day.

Now with you gone, he–

Mor burst through the door, panting like she’d run up the steps to reach the House of Wind.

Azriel hadn’t noticed he’d dropped his pen and spilt the ink everywhere. Mor had startled him, but his shadows had calmed him.

Mor caught her breath long enough for her to speak two words.

“She’s awake.”

And that’s when he noticed he could feel it; the bond.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

Azriel was running faster than he had ever before.

He sprinted down the halls, apologising when he knocked over a vase but continuing nevertheless.

When he approached the end of the hallway that led to that door, he spotted Rhys speaking to Madja just in front of it.

Azriel slowed down his pace until he was actually apprehensively approaching the door.

He looked at Madja first, needing medical reassurance more than anything. If this was real, how did the Mother pull this off? He would owe his soul for this.

Madja gave Azriel a knowing look that made Azriel want to crumple to the floor and kiss at the feet of the Gods.

Madja, Rhys and Mor stood beside the door as Azriel didn't waste a single moment more waiting behind the doors. He pushed them open widely and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he saw your eyes open.

You smiled at him from across the room and he was done for.

Azriel's shadows went into a frenzy to reach you and you laughed as they hugged and tickled you, moulding around your body in a protective cocoon.

"I came back." You said.

Azriel nodded, not understand how this was even possible. How was this possible? Could Madja even explain this phenomenon?

"You.. You were..."

"I know." You nodded sadly. "I can't imagine how that must have been for you."

"I pulled on the bond every other moment." Azriel walked towards you slowly, careful to tread carefully in case he blurred the dream that he was sure he was dreaming.

"I know." You rested your hand on your chest. "I could feel it."

"You could?"

"I'm certain that you brought me back, Az."

His shadows met back with him but only because he was so close to you now. Close enough to be able to reach out and make sure you were real.

He brought a scarred hand up to your cheek, hesitating in case this was some cruel trick. His hand hovered where he wanted to cup your cheek, like he was internally stuck with choosing what to do next.

"It's okay. I'm here."

You moved for him and pressed your skin into his.

Azriel gasped as he felt how real you were beneath his own body. He quickly brought his other hand to cup your other cheek and greedily bring your lips close to his so he could seal this moment with a kiss.

The kiss poured all of his love for you back into him.

He felt that bond grow tighter in his chest, begging to burst out and fill the room with the endless happy that you brought him.

"You're here." He said between kisses, not letting you go for a moment.

"I am."

Azriel's kisses were hungry and desperate. It was almost like he refused to believe this was real and that he would lose you the moment he stopped. As much as you loved him and his kisses, you did need to breathe and so you reluctantly pulled away.

"No..." Azriel whined, desperate to pull you back.

You cupped his cheeks this time, grounding him to you. "Hey, sweetheart, I am here. I am right here. We have all the time in the world. I'm okay."

"We're okay." And he sealed the fact with another kiss.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

"Az, get off!"

You laughed as you tried to push him off of your side of the bed.

"You're too big." You grunted as you tried to move him off you, but he was too big of a lump of muscle to move. Of course you were only struggling to suffer - you actually quite enjoyed the feeling of him on you. If it comforted him then it comforted you.

"I am, aren't I." He said cheekily, like a teen Illyrian.

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes, but were glad to see he'd gotten his spark back. "I give up."

You stayed laid down, Azriel's body completely wrapped over yours and his legs intertwined with yours. His arms were wrapped so snug around you that you couldn't move even if you did want to. Seemed like he was attached to you from here until forever.

"Good." He said. "Now, let's sleep."

He gave one last tug on the bond before you tried to go to sleep and he was only comfortable enough to go to sleep when he felt you tug back.

[your-hockey-mom]

One shot after the news of quinn being week to week? 🥺

"I'm bored," Quinn grumbled, flopping onto the bed while you were looking through things in the closet. Turning around you'd catch him just before he landed into the blankets, his hair falling over his eyes in the process. He did nothing to fix it, just laid there like a lump. Seeing him like that made you frown, mainly because there wasn't much you could do to help him. Poor thing just wanted to be on the ice and he had no real time table of when he'd return which meant you would have to deal with his frustrations.

"I'm sorry, babe. I wish I knew what to tell you." Frowning, you'd walk over to the bed and sit beside him. His eyes were closed when you brushed the hair out of his face which just revealed his sad puppy eyes afterwards.

"I couldn't tell you the last time I've felt like this," he sighed, looking up at you.

"Do you feel like you're grounded?" You tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but Quinn wasn't having any part of it. Instead of going along with it, he just closed his eyes with another sigh. "Am I really that boring?"

"No, it's not you," he whined, grabbing for a pillow to smother himself with. "I'm just bored."

You give his chest a couple taps with your hand before leaving the bed and returning to the closet. You couldn't help but look over at him still laying there now with the pillow covering his face. Nothing was coming to mind that could fix his mood.

"Wanna go out?" You asked, pulling a cute dress from the rack.

"No."

"Not even if I wear this?"

Quinn poked his head out from beneath the pillow to see what it was that you were tempting him with. For a second, it looked like you had had him on the line, but as soon as that pillow covered his face, you knew it hadn't been enough to sway him.

"You'd look good in that, but I'm just not in the mood. Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized, voice muffled but audible.

Putting the dress back, you felt defeated. Going out actually sounded like fun, but you weren't about to go out without him. Sure, you had some girlfriends that would be available, but he was the one you wanted to spend your time with. It wasn't often, that you had him to yourself for weeks on end, but it was unfortunate that he had to be injured for you to get so much time with him.

'What do you want to do, babe?" You'd ask, turning off the light in the closet to go lay beside him on the bed.

"Nothing," he mumbled, beneath the pillow.

"Nothing? Not a single thing?"

"Nope."

Rolling your eyes, you'd move to straddle his waist which got him to look at you. You weren't trying to excite him that way, you just wanted him to actually look at you for more than five seconds. Honestly, he looked more confused than aroused.

"Baby?" Quinn questioned.

"Well, I just wanna have a little fun, Quinn, c'mon," you'd wink but he just wouldn't bite.

"Not right now, okay?"

"Oh, honey," you remarked sadly. "I was just trying to make you laugh."

Quinn puts his hands on your hips, "I know. I suck right now and I'm sorry you've gotta deal with me like this.”

“I know you’d rather be elsewhere~”

“I love being with you, you know that.”

“I know, but I also know that you want to get back to your boys.”

Quinn’s eyes dropped to the side. You knew you were right, and you also knew that he didn’t want to admit that he really wanted to get back on the ice. Sure, he loved being with you but even you knew that nothing rivaled playing hockey for him. It’s what he was born to do; who could argue that that’s where his heart was most of the time?

“Baby,” Quinn mumbled.

“It’s okay,” you smiled, leaning down to give him a quick kiss before getting off of him. His hands would be slow to leave your body like he was silently pleading for you to stay close to him. “I’m going to go make dinner, okay? Why don’t you take a little nap?”

“Yeah, I might. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart,” you smiled. “I’ll come get you in a bit, okay?”

“Okay, thank you.”

- - -

You weren’t sure if Quinn moved from where you had left him, or if he had actually crawled into the bed. However, when you went in to get him after finishing dinner, you would find him curled up under the duvet in the middle of the bed. You hated having to wake him, because he just looked so comfortable, but you had made a promise.

“Sugar?”

Quinn grumbled, almost like he hadn’t heard you.

“Baby, dinner is done, or do you want to eat later?”

“Hmm, what?” He finally replied, groggily.

“Dinner, baby.”

“Oh, okay. I’m getting up,” he yawned, pushing away the blankets but moving slow to actually leave the bed. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You’re halfway into the hallway when you hear him mumbling. “You’re okay. It’s not going anywhere.”

“Smells good, what is it?” Quinn’s hair was a jumbled mess of tousled curls when he finally entered the kitchen. He somehow looked more tired now than when he had before he had laid down.

“Stuffed mushrooms.”

“Really?” His tone conveyed his shock. “You haven’t made those in forever.”

“You could have asked for them anytime, Quinn. They’re not that much trouble,” you tried your best to smile, fearful you were coming off as bitchy.

You handed him a plate, watching him move about the kitchen. Poor thing looked like he could fall back asleep if he could just lean up against the counter for a couple minutes. Stepping up behind him, your fingers would do what they could to tame the wild mop of hair atop his head. Quinn would let you play with his hair whenever you wanted and even now, as he was trying to put dinner on his plate, he still stood there while you fussed.

“I really love when you do that,” he would admit.

“Well, you have the nicest hair.” You were always jealous of how soft his hair was, the length of his eyelashes, all of the things you spent so much money on to have yourself, and he had them naturally and without much effort.

“I’m glad you like it.”

It was hard, but you pulled your fingers from his hair to let him finish getting his dinner. You would take your seat at the island before he turned around. When he saw you sitting there he stopped. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

You shook your head, resting your chin on your hands. “No, I don’t think so right now.”

“What’s wrong, babe?” Quinn sounded so concerned, brows pulled in as he moved to stand beside you. Even though he was still half-asleep, he let his hand run up and down your back several times, his touch so warm.

“Nothing.”

You could hear him sigh as he stood beside you. You figured he had tried to keep it to himself and you tried not to take it personally. “It’s me isn’t it?”

“What? Oh, no, baby. It isn’t you.”

“Would you tell me if it was?”

“Probably not.” You were being honest. Considering what he was dealing with, there was no way you’d tell him he was being as unreasonable ass, just because. Quinn was a sweetheart; a soft soul that you would never wish to hurt. You’d take it out on yourself before you’d direct any sort of pain at him.

“Have I hurt your feelings?”

“No, baby. I’m okay.”

Quinn took his seat next to you, and let his hand rest upon your thigh. His touch made you shiver, the good kind, the touch-starved kind almost. You just wanted to be wrapped up in his arms, to forget about the pains of the season, and the struggles of being in a relationship with one of the best players in the whole league who, right now, was carrying an entire team on his back. You wanted to see him happy again, to see him smile.

Quinn touched your face with his free hand, pulling your gaze over to him. “I’m worried about you.”

That broke your heart, and you would give him an apologetic look before you broke down. “Don’t be, Quinn. I’m okay. I just want you to be alright. You’re who I’m worried about. I just know how hard you’ve been playing, how hard you try every single night, and I see it on your face how much it gets to you. I know you’re strong, baby, but you’re human, too, you know? I’m not trying to smother you, but I worry that you’re going to break yourself in two."

He looked down, like he was deep in thought trying to find the words that would reassure you that he was getting by, and that you shouldn’t worry, but he was failing.

“I’m sorry I made you feel this way.”

“Please, baby, please don’t feel sorry. I feel like I’ve said too much and made a mess of everything.”

“You haven’t!” Quinn pleads. “You just care about me, and I love that! I love you! I’ve never had a partner put me so far ahead of themselves, like you do.”

His kind words nearly make you cry. “I love you, too. I just wish things were better for you.”

“I have you, everything else will fall in place soon enough,” he smiled, asking you for a kiss.

“Chin up, buttercup,” you whispered, so close to him now which made him smile. He would give your leg a gentle squeeze before your lips touched and all of the tension, sadness, and worry would melt away with the heat of your shared affections. You couldn’t help but put him before yourself, but Quinn would never take advantage of you or your kindness. You would always feel safe with him, and him with you. Together was where you both felt comfortable.

[cognitiveoverload]

Pillow fort (Spencer Reid x reader)

summary: You get home early, only to find your husband and daughter reading in a pillow fort.

tags: afab!reader, established relationship.

wc: 0.6k

It’s almost seven in the evening when you get out of the taxi in front of the house, but to your surprise, the lights in the house are off. Sure, Spencer didn’t know you caught an earlier flight, but he’s supposed to be home with Lyla by now. Did he take her somewhere? Maybe to have dinner with your parents? Or did they go to Dave’s house again?

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open the front door and walk inside, already planning how you’ll pass the time until the others come home. A bath sounds nice for starters, preferably with a glass of wine and some music, because you can’t stand the idea of staying here in complete silence. Yes, taking care of your daughter can be tiring, but you love her more than anything, and if the price of being alone is being away from her, you’d rather not want it.

You pull the suitcase next to the bottom of the stairs, contemplating whether you should empty it or take a bath first, but then your train of thought is interrupted when your ears pick up a faint noise from upstairs. The worst case scenario, the idea of an intruder in the house, is already setting off the alarm in your brain, and you wish Spencer was here with you.

But when you pull out your phone to dial 911, a familiar sound breaks the silence. “We’re in my study!” your husband calls out.

Dammit, you almost had a heart attack. What are they doing up there? Shaking your head, you begin to move in that direction, already planning to have a nice long chat about scaring you with him. But when you reach the door, your anger disappears, and your heart is filled with warmth at the sight of the pillow fort they built in the middle.

Spencer and Lyla sit next to each other inside, using a flashlight to read a book together. Well, or rather your daughter reads and her father waits for her to catch up. Either way, they both look happy, and you can’t even be mad at them for not greeting you when you kneel in front of the entrance.

“Hey, you two. What are you doing in the dark?” you ask with a smile.

Your little girl reaches for the flashlight Spencer is holding for her, then she begins to shake it. “We have a flashlight, Mom, it’s not completely dark,” she corrects you.

A humorless laugh leaves you, but you don’t say anything. A little smartass, just like her father. Your eyes turn to the man in question, only to find him watching you with a wide smile on his face. Raising an eyebrow, you urge him to say what he wants.

“You’re home early,” he notes.

Nodding, you sit back on your heels. “Thought I would surprise you.”

Spencer reaches out for your hand, and you take his without hesitation. “Well, consider me surprised. Answering your question, we’re studying.” You tilt your head to the side, waiting for a little more straightforward response. “Literature. Well, Russian literature.”

“Please, tell me it’s not realism,” you say with a sigh. When your husband shrugs with a nonchalant smile, you roll your eyes at him. “Spence, she’s eight.”

“It’s Gogol’s Overcoat. Just a short story, but she loves it.” To confirm her father’s statement, Lyla begins to nod with a happy smile on her face.

Nodding, you squeeze Spencer’s hand twice, then drop it to stand up. ”Well, while you two bookworms are reading here, Mom will go and have a nice, long bath now. Knowing you, young lady, we’ll have another fight about bedtime anyway.” Before you leave, you lean down and blow a kiss to them. “Love you both.”

[waayoutofline]

4 times you surprised Abby + Bonus

Pairing: Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Prompts: Fluff with a sprinkle of hurt/comfort, past toxic relationships, Cook! Reader, vulnerable Abby.

Summary: Four times you surprise Abby in your relationship.

WC: 2,8K

Warnings: None.

Abby hasn’t had a long dating history, which isn’t surprising in a world as broken as theirs. Survival didn’t leave much room for things like love. She’s had her flings, moments of stolen intimacy, but they never lasted. People came and went, and she’d learned to accept it. Relationships, if they even could be called that, weren’t always kind or healthy—but they were what they were. What she was used to.

So when you and Abby finally started dating—after months of stolen glances, shy smiles, and a tension that buzzed between you like an incoming storm—she couldn’t help but be surprised. What was it about you that made her hope for something more?

1. Talking About Her to Your Friends

Abby didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. She was on her way to the gym when she remembered she’d left her bag in your room. She knew you were with your friends, so she decided to sneak in quietly.

But as she approached the door, she heard her name.

“So, how’s life with your lover girl?” one of your friends teased, and Abby froze.

Her pulse quickened, a mixture of curiosity and anxiety rooting her in place. She shouldn’t listen, but she couldn’t stop herself. She braced for your answer, her heart sinking as she prepared to hear the usual: She’s strong. She’s built. She’s hot. A bit stubborn. Overwhelming at times.

And sure, she was those things. Her body was a testament to her survival, her strength, and her discipline . She worked for it and was proud of it. But deep down, she longed to be seen as more than that. And her character was strong and she has been told about how troublesome it could be alongside her dry humor and sarcasm.

“Well…” Your voice was hesitant, shy. She could almost picture the way your cheeks would flush. “Gosh, she’s amazing. She’s so intelligent and kind—she talks about literature in a way that astonishes me every time.”

Abby’s breath caught in her throat.

“She’s gentle, in this really soft way. You should see her with dogs. It makes me want to get her one.”

Her chest tightened, warmth blooming in a place she hadn’t let anyone touch in years.

“Don’t forget attractive,” one of your friends chimed in, grinning.

You laughed, your voice flustered. “Well, of course. She’s gorgeous.”

“Look at you, all smitten,” someone teased, and your laugh grew quieter, softer, as if you didn’t mind being called out.

Abby’s heart was pounding now, but it wasn’t from nerves. She felt her legs move before she realized it, retreating back down the hall with her bag in hand, her cheeks hot, her lips curling into a smile she couldn’t fight.

Manny didn’t let her hear the end of it when he caught her grinning like a lovestruck fool all day.

2. Meeting the Family

Holiday time was around the corner. Usually, it didnt really mean much for everyone, but for the sake of trying to live in this forsaken world, some did their best to try and regain some normalcy.

Even Isaac, workaholic and not really an empathetic, allowed some of the recruits and workers to go out of their shifts earlier to spend some time with their remaining families.

It could be great. If you actually had one.

Abby usually just stayed at the gym, pushing herself. The burn of her muscles being preferable at the though of how alone she really was.

But she really wasnt anymore. No, you were with her now.

One night, out of nowhere, you asked her to have dinner with you and your mom. Abby blinked, caught off guard.

“What?” she asked, towel in hand as she dried her hair.

“My mom and I usually do something this time of year. I think she’s tired of me rambling about you and wants to officially meet you,” you said, your tone light and teasing, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal. No one had ever invited her to meet their family before. No one had ever seen her as someone worth bringing home. Too conscious of her own lack of family.

“No pressure,” you added quickly, though your eyes softened in that way that made her heart ache. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. But I think she’d really like you.”

“I… I’d like that too,” Abby said at last, her voice almost too quiet to hear. “What should I bring?”

You smiled, stepping closer and gently tugging the towel from her hands to help dry her hair. “Just you, beautiful.”

Abby let out a shaky laugh at your cheeky grin, rolling her eyes to hide the way her cheeks blushed. “Flatterer.”

Dinner was warm in a way Abby hadn’t experienced in years. Your mom fussed over her like she’d known Abby forever, asking about her favorite foods and piling extra servings onto her plate.

It was strange and wonderful—this sense of care. Abby couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel this… domestic. Cared for. Hers died at a young age after all, she didn’t remember any kind of motherly care.

And when your mom pulled out the box of polaroids, Abby couldn’t stop laughing. Even as you protested in the background, trying to snatch the photos away, she soaked in every story your mom told—every glimpse of you as a child, every memory that shaped the person she was falling for more deeply than she thought possible.

3) The little things

Abby has always been independent. She prided herself on it—her ability to handle things, resolve problems, and shoulder her burdens without leaning on anyone. It wasn’t always easy, and yes, sometimes it felt lonely. But that loneliness was a price she was willing to pay. Dependence, to her, was a weakness, and she had no room for that.

But then you came along. And somehow, without even trying, you chipped away at her walls.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t about grand gestures, no flashy declarations. It was the little things—the quiet moments and unnoticed details—that left her feeling undone.

Like the time you took her gym towels, washed them, and neatly packed them back into her bag. She’d blinked in surprise, holding them in her hands, wondering how you’d known she’d forgotten. You hadn’t even mentioned it, just smiled when she realized.

Or the way, after a grueling patrol, she’d find a sticky note on her makeshift fridge. Your familiar handwriting scrawled something simple—a heart, her name, a quiet reminder to eat. Beside it, there was always a container of her favorite dish. She’d sit there and eat it, alone but feeling more cared for than she ever had before.

Then there were her hair ties. She’d spent half a morning cursing under her breath, looking for the ones that always seemed to vanish. When you finally spoke up, you’d said, “I put them in the little box on your nightstand so you don’t keep loosing them.”

And at times, when she didn’t really have it in her to face the morning, you gently encouraged her to push forward. You’d quietly ask if you could braid her hair. Abby usually was adamant from letting anyone touch it, but there was something about the way your delicate hands moved through her hair that left her in a trance.

Your fingers worked carefully, threading through her scalp with a tenderness that eased the weight she carried. She found herself humming softly as you worked, the tension in her shoulders melting away with each gentle stroke.

It was so small, so simple, but she’d stared at you for a moment, the words catching in her throat.

It amazed her how you always seemed to notice the things she needed before she did. You didn’t make a show of it, didn’t ask for thanks or praise. Taking care of her came as naturally to you as breathing.

Afterward, life seems all that brighter. Easier to breath, knowing that she could count on you.

4) Getting her vulnerability

The anniversary of her dad’s death was closing in like a shadow. Abby felt it in the air, in her nightmares, in the way her body refused to let her rest.

Night after night, she woke up shaking, clutching at her chest, and every time, you were there—soft whispers, steady hands, holding her like she wasn’t coming apart at the seams.

But she hated herself for it. Hated waking you, hated seeing the concern in your eyes, hated the thought of you realizing just how much of a mess she really was. People had left for less.

And maybe you would, too.

Many people, both lovers and friends, had been uncomfortable with the ghosts of her past—her dad, her losses, the weight she carried. They either tiptoed around it or distanced themselves when it became too much. She didn’t exactly blame them.

But you faced it with her. You didn’t try to fix her or tell her to “move on.” You just stayed, listened, and made her feel like she wasn’t broken.

You stood by her, with no pressure, no expectation, no need to “make her better.”

“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” you told her one night, after she tried so hard to stop her body from shaking after one particularly harsh dream.

It was something no one had ever said to her before, and it stuck with her. It gave her the strength to turn around and look at you while tears started down her cheeks, the darkness not managing to conceal them entirely. But it was alright.

You were there.

“Was it about your dad?” you whispered, not pushing but encouraging. Silence filled the space the question left.

“No.” She finally answered, her voice unsteady in a way that she loathed. “We…we were on a patrol, and when I came back everything was destroyed. Burned to the ground. And you were….” Her words stuck, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly. “You were gone. You were…g-god, you were—“

Almost immediately, you hugged her, cradling her head to your chest. You were soft and warm, the steady beating of your heart thumping under her ear. It was almost scary, how comfortable it was.

“I’m right here,” you murmured softly, your hand gently running through her hair. “Hear my heart. Focus on my breaths. We’re together, Abby. We’re okay.”

The words settled over her like a balm, though the ache in her chest didn’t fully ease. The images from her nightmare still lingered—haunting, visceral, unshakable. But your presence, your warmth, gave her something solid to cling to. A light in the darkness.

“I hate it,” she finally whispered, voice raw. “I hate that I can’t protect everyone. That everyone seems to just…go eventually. And that I can’t do anything about it.”

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, your eyes soft as you wiped away her tears. Your touch was gentle, your expression firm but kind.

“Abby, you don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

She shook her head, her brow furrowing in frustration. “But what if I lose you? What if I can’t stop it?”

“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, your hands cupping her face. “And even if the worst happens, it’s not because you failed. It’s because the world is cruel sometimes. But no matter what, I need you to know that you’re not alone in this.”

Her lips quivered, another tear slipping down her cheek, but she didn’t look away. For once, she let herself be seen—completely, raw and exposed.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Abs.” You patiently reminded. “It’s okay to let someone else carry the weight sometimes.”

You continued, your voice steady. “You have me.”

Abby let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to truly let go. She melted into your embrace, burying her face in your neck as the last of her resistance crumbled.

You stayed like that, holding her through the quiet sobs, through the silence that followed. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Thank you,” she said. “For staying.”

You pressed a kiss to her temple, your hand still running soothingly through her hair. “Always,” you replied. “I’ll always stay, Abby.”

BONUS

+) Not minding her overprotective nature

Everyone knows Abby is a deeply loyal person. She wants her loved ones to be safe more than anything, and she is willing to do anything for them. That usually manifested as her being slightly overprotective at times.

With you, it happened more often than not. She would step in at the slightest sign of you having any issue. Usually, she did it through small gestures that were partly unconscious to her. Like knowing your schedule by heart and accompanying you to your room late at night with a secure hand on your lower back. Happily listening to your rambling while still keeping an eye out.

Watching over you in every room came naturally to her.

She was particularly tense when you, as the executive chef, asked for permission to assist in a supply run and gather some materials. Abby always insisted that you only go when she was available. She didn’t trust anyone else to take care of you like she did.

The most dramatic displays of her protectiveness came when you were confronted by recruits making greedy demands.

“Back off,” she practically growled, appearing behind you like a shadow. The person usually stammered, probably not conscious of who your girlfriend was until her imposing frame stood threateningly in front of them.

Afterward, she turned to you, all the aggression melting away as she gave you soft eyes. “You good?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I’m good.”

And you meant it—being with Abby made you feel safe in a way you never had before.

You weren’t exactly “on the frontlines” material. You arrived at the WLF when you were pretty young, and after going through everything, even the sight of a gun left you uneasy. So when Isaac saw your cooking abilities, he allowed you to stay at the base under the title of side-line cook. You eventually rose through the ranks, and that was that.

You preferred dealing with narcissistic soldiers over facing those vicious creatures. In a way, you grew accustomed to being pushed around, even though you knew how to defend yourself. But that all changed when you met Abby.

Standing at 5’9 and with a build that seemed crafted by the gods themselves, it was safe to say people left you alone after associating with her. So, even if you knew how to stand your ground, you enjoyed being protected by her.

You didn’t mind when she walked ahead of you during runs, her broad shoulders shielding you from any threat that could come your way. When she insisted on carrying the heavier bag or checking your gun a couple of times before leaving—just in case.

Not even when she glared at anyone who looked at you for more than five seconds in a way she deemed unacceptable.

You didn’t mind any of it because you knew it came from a strong sense of caring. That’s who she was. She cared deeply.

So, whenever she hovered near as you collected some herbs just a little outside the perimeter of the stadium (an area kept clear of infected), her eyes following your every move, you didn’t roll your eyes or brush her off. Instead, you smiled softly, glancing up at her as she leaned against a tree, arms crossed.

“You don’t have to watch me like a hawk, you know,” you teased lightly. “This is a pretty safe zone.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna keep an eye out.”

Setting the basket down, you stood and moved next to her, gently nudging her to sit. She understood your intentions—she always did—and with her back against the trunk of the tree, she made space for you to settle between her legs, resting against her.

“I know,” you said, leaning into her warmth. “And I appreciate it.”

Abby’s expression softened, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “You don’t think I’m… too much?”

“Not at all,” you said, glancing back at her and managing to place a soft kiss on the side of her jaw. “You make me feel safe. That’s never too much.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at you with that quiet, steady gaze that always made you feel like you were the center of her world.

And when she reached out to embrace you, resting her head in the crook of your neck, her touch so gentle, you knew you wouldn’t trade her protectiveness for anything.

[rorysburrow]

Sugar and Spice

Pairings ➼ Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary ➼ You and Joe are making homemade cinnamon rolls in the kitchen—well, trying to make cinnamon rolls. Amid the flour dust and rolling pins, things take a more playful turn when you get a little too close, and Joe realizes just how cold your hands are. Sweetness isn’t just in the rolls anymore.

Word Count ➼ 725

Warnings ➼ pure fluff , hint of allusions to something if you squint.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The kitchen smelled like sugar, cinnamon, and butter—three of the best things in life, if you had to ask yourself. you and Joe were working on a batch of homemade cinnamon rolls, a recipe he had insisted you try together. Of course, the “together” part turned into him making fun of your inability to roll the dough without making it look like a crumpled mess, but that was beside the point.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Joe said, a teasing grin on his face as he peered over your shoulder. He was rolling his dough perfectly, of course, while yours looked like it had been through a war zone.

“Oh, really?” you replied while rolling your eyes. “I thought you were here to help, not critique.”

“I am helping,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m just giving you the pro tips. You’ll get it next time.”

you shot him a playful glare, but just as you were about to roll your dough out again, You felt a chill sweep over you. Your hands, covered in flour, were cold—and Joe’s warmth was too tempting to ignore. Without thinking, You reached around behind him, sliding your hands underneath the hem of his shirt.

Joe went still, the sudden coolness of your hands against his warm skin sending a shiver through him. “Whoa, what are you doing?” he asked, voice a mix of amusement and surprise.

you grinned, rubbing your cold hands against his stomach. “Just warming up. You don’t mind, do you?”

He looked down at you, trying to hold back his smile. “You’re freezing me out here,” he teased, his voice dropping a little, more playful than I’d ever heard. “You know I don’t think that’s the reason you’re getting so close.”

you laughed, pulling your hands back to grab a new handful of dough, but not without making sure to run your hands briefly along his side as you did. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting too hot. You’re wearing a long-sleeve shirt while I’m here in a tank top. That’s not fair.”

Joe leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Oh, I see how it is. You’re using me as a human heating pad now.”

“Pretty much,” you replied, reaching for the rolling pin and purposefully nudging his hip with yours as you did. “And you’re a very good one.”

Joe’s expression softened, his teasing smile shifting to something warmer. “I don’t mind being your personal heater,” he said, his voice more sincere than before. “But, you know, next time, I expect you to cook a real dinner.”

you chuckled, adjusting the dough, which had now transformed into a much more successful roll thanks to Joe’s “pro tips.” “Don’t worry. After we finish this, I’ll make us something even better. How about a nice, hearty meal?”

“You promise?” He raised an eyebrow, his playful smirk making a return. “Because if it’s anything like this dough… I might need a backup plan.”

“Hey,” you nudged him again with your elbow. “At least we’ll have the best dessert in town. And maybe I’ll even make it up to you with something a little more spicy tonight.”

Joe’s grin spread wider, and I could tell I’d gotten his attention. “You’re on,” he said, leaning closer as if to share a secret. “But just so you know… I have a thing for spicy food.”

you laughed, brushing your hands off and glancing at the oven, which had just beeped. “Well, looks like we’ll be having cinnamon rolls first. Then we can talk about spicy dinner ideas.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, sliding his arm around your waist, pulling you into him for just a moment. “Now, you owe me for the kitchen hijinks. How about a taste test?”

you smirked, reaching for the first hot cinnamon roll fresh out of the oven, breaking off a piece and holding it out to him. “Taste test approved, huh? Fine by me.”

Joe took a bite, his eyes lighting up with exaggerated delight. “Not bad at all,” he said, his voice teasing once again. “But I’m pretty sure I was the one who made this happen.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes again. “The cinnamon rolls wouldn’t be this good without your expert dough rolling.”

Joe grinned, leaning in closer. “Exactly.”

[bunnithechubs]

transcript:

[TEXT THREAD W. REINA] yesterday V: Good Morning, Blue. Ami I finally going to get a response from you? R: SimPay $250 NAILS V: Can I at least get a pic of your nails??? Today 10:15 AM V: Morning, Blue. hope you enjoyed your nail appointment. Think we can grab coffee soon?

V: What's for lunch today, Dad? A: Salmon stew. How was your work out, Papi? V: Pretty good. I was actually able to increase my reps. A: That's good! Go on and eat. I'll meet you after I make my espresso. V: Alright, thanks for the food dad.

A: By the way, your brother said he wanted to come visit. V: sighs You mean he wants to come here to lecture me. A: He just misses you and he’s even bringing Mae with him. Dad, you don’t have to lie. V: I know he’s mad at me partying. A: If he is he has not said anything to me. I think he just missed us while he was in Henford. V: Riiiiight. A: Go up and shower. I’ll clean up, Papi. He’ll be here soon.

[TEXT THREAD W. REINA CONT.] 11:30 AM V: Blue. just let me follow you, damn.

[TEXT THREAD W. REINA CONT.] 12: 06 PM V: I will literally give you whatever you want if you let me follow you. R: SimPay $1.5K PICTURE

[TEXT THREAD W. REINA CONT.] 12:10 PM V: I really wanna be vulgar to you right now, but I'm trying to stay on your good side. R: ?? V: ... your boobs + my face = dream come true 12:30 PM V: Alright Reina. I'm tired of the thirsting over you. I'm making reservations for dinner. I want to take you on a date. Saturday night, I'll send you a car at 7:30 pm. R: See you, Satursday. R: I will not be seein gyou clubbing or seeing women, correct? V: No you will not, Reina.

A: You’ve been on your phone a lot lately. Did you finally get through to Jennifer? V: No. Jennifer blocked me a while ago. I met someone new and I’m going to take her out Saturday. A: Who is this new girl who has my son smiling and texting so much? [doorbell rings] V: We’ll have to save that for another time dad.

C: Hey Vin- V: Hand her over! sighs C: Nice to see you too. coos V: You missed your Uncle Vinny huh? Man she’s getting so big. Last time I saw her she barely had any hair. C: Don’t remind me, I wish I could keep her that small forever. She loved the bear you got her for Winterfest by the way. V: I knew she would. See that’s why Uncle Vinny is your favorite- right?

A: There’s my hijo. How was the trip here? C: Hey dad, smooth. The roads here are clearer than in Newcrest. A: No Kitty today? Nope just Mae and me. C: Kitty had a deposition for work. She sends her love though. A: How’s she doing with the pregnancy? C: It’s been pretty rough for her so I’m convinced it’s a boy. A: Do you want me to come by more often to give her a break? C: That would help out a lot actually. A: I’ll pack a bag and stay a few nights. Give Vinny some time alone.

A: She must have been up the whole car ride with how quickly she went down. C: Oh yeah, she babbled at me the whole drive. She definitely got that from her mother. A: Soon she will have a little sibling babbling with her. C: Yeah, I hope they are best friends. A: You boys were close as kids. I’m sure they will be too. Do you think she will be jealous with there being a new baby? C: I don’t think so but I’m sure we will handle it if it comes up.

C: So, Vinny- V: I’m fine, Cain. C: You expect me to believe that? V: I expect you to act like my brother and trust me when I say I’m fine. C: There is no world where going out every night and sleeping with multiple women in a week is fine, Vinny. V: You’re one to talk. Need I remind you of where I learned this from? C: Exactly. I wasn’t fine when I was doing the same shit you were. So want to try this again but with honesty?

V: I am being honest- I’m fine. C: So Jen having a new boyfriend doesn’t bother you? V: No and why do we even need to bring her up? She broke up with me, remember? C: Vinny, she asked for space and you said- V: I knew she reached out to you. C: She did and for good reason. V: Look, I’m fine. I found a new girl and I actually like her. Ask dad I haven’t been out this week and I haven’t been seeing anyone. A: He’s not lying. C: Dude, a girl is not going to fix what’s eating at you inside.

V: This is why we never talk anymore. You’re too damn nosey. If I want to sleep with all of the women in San Myshuno then I will. Right now I really like this girl and I’m on my best behavior. Maybe you should send her a thank you card or something. C: What’s her name- maybe I will? V: I’m not telling your nosey ass one more thing. C: You really like her? V: I do. C: Then I hope it works out for the best Vinny. I just want to see you happy. That’s all. V: Start with bringing Mae around more and hanging out with me. C: I can do that.

[kireiflowerjayla]

ׂ╰┈➤🅲︎🅷︎🅴︎🅴︎🅺︎ᵃˢˢ 🆂︎🅻︎🅰︎🅿︎ੈ✩‧₊˚

Genre : fuffly but not, angry gf!!, cat parents,

Prompt- Y/n baking a cake for their cat's bday and Niki is really jealous, and he keeps slapping her ass until you're annoyed......... plus

Y/n carefully measured the flour, making sure not a speck of it spilled over the edges of the bowl. "Today's the day, Millie. Your birthday cake will be perfect," Y/n said, glancing at their fur baby sitting regally on the counter.

Niki, who had been lounging on the couch, perked up and strolled into the kitchen. He crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorway, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're putting in that much effort for a cat?"

Y/n didn’t even look up. "Yes, my cat deserves it."

"But when's the last time you baked me a cake?" he teased, moving closer.

Y/n rolled their eyes, focused on mixing the batter. "Your birthday was last month. You got brownies."

"And now you're giving me an attitude? Okay." With one swift motion, his hand came down against their backside with an audible smack.

Y/n gasped, straightening up. "Niki!"

"What? Just a little reminder of who deserves all your attention," he said smugly.

Annoyed but trying to stay focused, Y/n turned back to the batter. But before they could get far—smack! again.

"Niki! Stop it, or the only thing you'll get is crumbs for dinner!"

“What? I’m just here for moral support,” he replied, casually leaning on the counter.

“Moral support doesn’t require slapping my ass.”

“We Could’ve made out together. Why are you even making a cake for the cat?” he asked, gesturing toward Millie, who was now grooming herself like the queen she was.

“It’s not for her; it’s for me! For her i bought special cat food, I just want to celebrate my baby's birthday. Is that a crime?” Y/n huffed, turning back to her work.

Niki raised an eyebrow. “So, you’ll bake a whole cake for Millie’s birthday,and she is not your baby”

“You don’t even like sweets,and yeah she is not my baby she is our baby, our sweet daughter” she countered, keeping her attention on the frosting she was preparing.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the principle of it,and that rat looking thing isn't my baby- but if you really want a baby i can stop wearing protection" he said smirking, and i told you we didn't need a cat .”Another smack—this time firmer than before.

“Ouchh Niki that hurt stop,she said as she saw his hand about to hit her ass again" Also no i don't want to be pregnant so young, if you do that one more time, I swear I’ll—” smack!

“Are you serious?!” she exclaimed, standing upright and pointing a frosting-covered spoon at him.

Niki shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “What? You get so cute when you’re annoyed. Also, you’re ignoring me. I feel neglected.”

“You are not in competition with my daughter,” she deadpanned.

“Oh, but I am. Clearly, she gets all your attention,” Niki said dramatically, pointing at Snowball, who was now sprawled across the couch

Y/n set the spoon down and marched toward him, her hands on her hips. “Listen, mister—if you don’t stop—”

But Niki just leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips mid-lecture. “I’ll stop when you admit you love me more than the cat,” he murmured.

Y/n sighed, exasperated. “Fine. I love you more than Millie.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, finally backing away. “Now, how about letting me lick the bowl?”

“Not happening,” she replied, but there was a small smile on her face as she turned back to the cake.

"Okay then we can lick it together" smirking

"Eww Absolutely not" she said being a bit disgusted"Ugh this is why you shouldn't hang out with Heeseung and Jake, look at what they did to my innocent Kiki, i loved when he used to get all shy"

"Ohhh yeah let me show you what this Kiki of yours can do"he said and picked Y/n up on her shoulder....

"Ahhh Niki noo what are u doing, Millie ahh save me"Niki chuckled

I guess Millie is getting a sibling 😅.....

[mythicmanuscripts]

“In conclusion, that little fucker is lucky he's cute.” is the most Aegon thing ever. This is the energy that attracted me to eggxreader and I didn’t even know it. Amazing

It really does describe him perfectly, utterly insufferable but he's too cute. I'm gonna write a little bit about all the shit Aegon gets up to and gets away with, and then of course also why he can get away with all that chaos.

This is mostly SFW but considering it's Aegon there's no way for this not to have implied sexual content, so I'll hide it behind a cut just to be safe. Enjoy lads!

Aegon's reputation preceded him by a country mile. You had heard all about the king, about his behaviour, his audacity, his taste for wine and just about every woman in the keep and that's just to name a few. You knew marrying him would be signing up for a lifetime of entertaining every whim of an absolutely little bastard with a crown on his head.

And well, you certainly werent wrong about all that. What completely shocks you though, is that you actually enjoy it? Sure there's a few awkward months of trying to figure him out, but once you realise how easy it is to make him absolutely DELIGHTED your relationship improves significantly.

And once he realises you may actually entertain his whims and listen to him? Well now you have a shadow. A shadow who demands your attention and will whine and pout and push things off tables until you finally meet his gaze and listen to whatever he wants. Most of the time he just wants to tell you something absolutely useless, but the entire kingdom will be brought to a standstill if you don't give him your full attention and listen to him telling you about the bird he just spotted on the windowsill.

No one really understands how on earth the two of you arent always at each other's throats, or at the very least how you arent just barely getting along. Aegon seems to worship the very ground you walk on, and then also seems to lay himself down flat on that very ground and scream until you sigh and go to him. Often he'll call you and just ask for a kiss. That's it. (He has interrupted multiple engagements and meetings because the king would like to kiss his queen and this is obviously the most important matter to attend to in all of the seven kingdoms.)

It's definitely worth noting that this isnt one sided either. Aegon will go out of his way to do whatever you want, even if most of the time you havent even told him you wanted it. You once commented on how pretty a certain flower was in the gardens when you were walking with him and for the next three months there was always a fresh bunch of those flowers on your bedside every time you came back from dinner. Every single time. He literally appointed a servant whose role was JUST to ensure the flowers are always perfect and replace them when needed.

Everyone keeps on waiting for the moment where you react to his requests with more than just an amused smile before entertaining whatever he's asked you about. But it never happens. You always just smile and go to him, kissing his head, holding his hand, rolling your eyes as he complains about a lord who is literally still in the same room as him.

All these ridiculous requests and high maintenance needs don't mean that he won't obey you, because he will. Your word is law to him, far more so than any deal or offer or responsibility he could ever have or receive. He will NEVER disobey you, ever. Which is something the entire castle is so relieved about. If anyone else tries to tell him no he won't take it laying down, but if you do? He'll just bat his eyelashes and demand a kiss as compensation.

This of course also means before long you have the entire small council seeking you out after every small council meeting to tell you all the things they need you to stop Aegon from doing and all the things they need you to make Aegon start doing. Aegon is well aware of this by the way, he knows they all scurry off to find you and you essentially get a debrief of the same meeting by just about every person who attends it.

Aegon never tells his small council that he knows all about their little trick, mostly because he'd much rather listen to you than them. Sure he heard their thoughts at the meeting, but he doesn't care about that! They arent his queen! So when you relay the same message he just smiles and nods and then just beams at you when you praise him and thank him for agreeing.

So yes, he's an utterly insufferable little bastard gremlin creature who follows you round, tugging at your dress and nipping at your ankles until you eventually agree to hear the same story you've already heard at least eight times. But... he's certainly cute, that can't be denied.