#I have a couple fics in the works I may or may not go ahead and publish

[superherogeniusgirlnextdoor]

Oh boy I finally have time to watch season 2 of Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur! I got to see the first two episodes on YouTube and today I can access the family tv to watch on Disney plus!

Episode 3, here I come!

My emotional journey with season 2.

For clarification, this isn’t like a dig on vore or whatever. I have a legitimate phobia of being eaten alive to the point it gives me nightmares. Im better about it if I know what to expect and I’ve read the summary of the episode seen a handful of clips. I’m just working up to actually watching the thing cause like I said; nightmares 😭

Otherwise I finally finished season 2 today! 🎉

[ramp-it-up]

Anatomy of a Kiss

Summary: You and Logan agree on one thing: you both hate each other. So what happens when you kiss him?

Word count: 4.2 K

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. ONE DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILER AHEAD! Read at your own risk. S MUT! Enemies to lovers; snark to fluff, idiots in love; use of the words stupid, dumb, insipid as insults. Reader's father is either a mobster or a mutant villain, or both; (Reader may or may not be a mutant herself), a couple dark themes and mention of parent death; Reader has Daddy issues; Reader is a thicc girlie; Princess and Old Man as nicknames; there are two slaps; a tipsy kiss; povs switch thorughout the fic. pining; insinuations of masturbation, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise and degredation kink, size kink, creampie, cum play, explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up) voice kink, this Logan is Dom Logan.

A/N: This was in my soul for a couple of weeks, but I don't feel it's all that great. Here goes. Let me know if you like it by reblogging, liking and commenting please. Thank you. ☺️

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The biggest mistake that Logan Howlett ever made in his life was kissing you back.

Because now he was never going to get you out of his system. 

—--

You were celebrating.

Being being voted best small business owner and philanthropist in the city was a big fucking deal. You decided to let your hair down and let go of your famous self-control and discipline for one night.

And now you were tooted on most of a bottle of Moet and Chandon as you walked back to your high rise apartment from the civic center.

It was a perfect night and you stopped and smiled at the moon, feeling sublime. 

Until you heard his voice.

“Keep moving before I throw you over my shoulder and get you inside myself, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes at your body guard, the only thing your father offered you that you didn’t reject.

Because you weren’t stupid. 

Other than sharing his dna, you were not like your father at all, and you divested yourself of everything that had to do with him.

“What about the penthouse? You kept that.”

Your body felt engulfed as if by flames. You were angry, both at the fact that you’d apparently said all that out loud, and at Logan’s audacity.

“Fuck you, Howlett. The apartment is my mother’s. But she died because of my dad and that’s why he wants to “protect” me.”

You wobbled as you did your air quotes, and you could sense Logan ready to spring to catch you if you fell. You recovered quickly, however, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“But he can't seem to do the one thing that will protect me. Get out of the life. He’s an old man, for heaven’s sake!”

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not so old.”

You were in full blown argument mode.

“He’s over 70.”

“Like I said, he’s not so old. And you don’t know so much, little girl. Life is not that simple.”

“I am 32 years old, Mr. Howlett. I am not one of those little girls that fawn all over you. I am a woman.”

You straightened up and you knew that your thick body in the black cocktail dress was banging.

Logan’s eyes reflected your body, although he was staring back into yours. He’d taken it all in earlier.

“You are a teeny, tiny little Princess.”

He was fucking infuriating as he smiled down at you like that. The alcohol made you step to him.

“Someone needs to kiss that insipid smirk off your face, Howlett.”

That stupid eyebrow shot up, and your belly flipped.

Slap. You meant slap, but Logan was quicker than your champagne brain.

“I dare you, Princess.”

—-----

After what happened happened, you hightailed it back to your building, the electricity zapping around the elevator as you stared each other down. As soon as the doors opened, you moved as quickly as your tipsy legs would take through your foyer and living room and down the hallway to your bedroom door.

Logan followed you.

“Princess–”

The door slammed in his face, and he stood there for a good five minutes, restraining himself from knocking it down, before he relented and made his way back to his own room. 

He’d confront you tomorrow (later today), when you were sober.

—-

On the other side of the door, you were thinking of packing your bags and moving to South America. You needed a continent between you and Logan. How in the world had you allowed yourself to give in to a drunken urge that manifested the late night thoughts that you’d had for months? 

You were slipping. Bad.

You absolutely could not face him the next day. You leaned against the door, relieved when you heard him leave, and touched your lips. They still felt as if they were swollen from the kiss. 

You were sobering up now, remembering it. But just a few minutes ago that dare was all you needed to immediately lock your lips onto his. 

You also remembered the way he’d pulled away in shock and stared at your mouth for a beat before he grabbed your hair, pulled you close again, and kissed you so good that your toes curled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! Fuck my life!”

You were losing control. And that was not good. Not good at all.

—

Logan couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

And that pissed him off.

He lay in bed, and thought about how, (if he could die) under penalty of death he would never admit just how often he thought about you.

He’d been glad for the room at your place that came with the job; bunking with Wade and Althea was getting real old, real fast. 

But suddenly this arrangement felt too close for comfort.

You didn’t need to know about the fact that the movie playing behind his closed eyelids during his little shower workouts every night was your sexy smile, or the way your ass filled out your jeans. Especially those black ones.

And when he thought about you wearing those jeans with that wrap around shirt that showcased your tits just right. Well, fuck. He’d have gallons of cum for the shower drain.

Nah, you knowing that would only stroke your ego. Somehow, his mind drifted to the other things of yours that needed stroking.

“Oh, Fuck all!”

He sat up and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cigar, reason number 634 why you hated him. 

But if you hated him so much, then why did you kiss him tonight?

—---

Why did you do it? You didn’t even like Logan. In fact you hated him.

Right?

You loathed the way he called you Princess, an obvious reminder that you were a trust fund baby, although you were far from a child, and to spite the fact that you were trying to make your own way.

You hated him from the top of his ridiculous thick hair, to the soles of his huge shit-kicker boot clad feet. You hated how tall and how ripped he was, the way his arm veins threaded atop the muscles there and led the way to his thick, calloused fingers that felt so nice against your skin.

You hated the chest hair that poked out from the top of the tacky tank tops and flannel shirts he always wore underneath the ever present leather jacket, and the way his blue jeans showcased the muscles in his thighs. 

And you absolutely NEVER accidentally gazed at his crotch and ascertained that he was packing.

That would be asinine.

And his stupid face. That was the kicker. Logan’s face would be handsome if he didn’t wear that ridiculous smirk all the time on that mouth that might look nice if he was normal. 

The mouth that felt nice against yours. 

That might feel nice against your…

You groaned around your toothbrush and rolled your eyes at yourself, fully sober now after a quick cold shower. But somehow your body was still warm and buzzing.

What the fuck had you done?

— 

Logan didn’t even like you.

You were bossy, irritating, loud. 

Fuck, you were loud, always chattering away to your customers, always smiling and making them feel at home. 

He absolutely loathed the way you were trying to make your own living, despite the fact that your father was loaded. Running a food truck with the best tacos in town drew hundreds of people every day and giving away a portion of your food to the unhoused every night was what irritated Logan the most. 

More people to watch.

He was sure you did it to surround him with more people to hate. He just knew that you liked pushing his buttons. 

You just reveled in being the anti-Logan.

The more he glared, the more you glowed. 

On fucking purpose.

The kicker was you cranking up the karaoke machine on Thursday nights and belting it out to Journey or REO Speedwagon. It was so annoying. 

Especially the way you closed your eyes and swayed to the music during the bridge. The happy look on your face wasn’t beautiful at all, it was simple, and he didn’t memorize every curve of your face because it was a dumb one.

He couldn’t get away, because he had three months left on the security contract your father signed with him.

It was unfortunate, because you just wouldn’t shut up.

Except when his tongue was in your mouth.

No. 

Even then, you made noises. 

Those delicious little moans that vibrated down his spine and made his dick harder with every second. Moans that made him see visions of your mouth wrapped around his cock. Moans that gave him a waking dream of you giving him head, and…

Fuck, now Logan had a raging hard on and could not sleep for the life of him. 

He really did not like you.

—--

Kissing Logan had you in a tailspin. 

You punched your pillow as you tossed and turned in bed and conjured positive thoughts.

You could forget this.

Pretend it never happened.

Convince yourself that he didn’t taste like heaven and hell and the best fucking thing in a long time.

You could forget.

It was fine.

Everything was just fucking fine. 

All you had to do was completely forget the way he made you feel when he slid his tongue into your mouth. It was easy. 

Except you were wet as fuck. 

“Listen, bitch. You are not doing me any favors right now,” you mumbled to your cunt. 

She didn't care. 

Your pussy just continued to clench on air as if to say, “He’s right down the hall. Let’s just go finish what we started.”

You groaned and tried to smother yourself with your pillow.

It didn’t work.

—-

Logan just kept thinking of the way you stared at him between kisses. Lips parted on a gasp, plump and soft, right before he'd slipped his hand on your neck and kissed you again. Now your taste haunted him.

Logan huffed and put his head in his hands. Flashes of the kiss played like a movie in his head. Finally, he stood up and went to his door, ready to settle this once and for all.

When he opened it, there you were, in just a black camisole and panties, and god, did he want you.

But there was your mouth again.

“I fucking hate you.”

The problem with that was, he could smell you. You might be saying that you hated him, but your body was calling him right now. And Logan’s knees were weak at the power of his lust.

When you looked him in the eye, you licked your lips, your eyes dilated, your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, and your pussy weeping for him, Logan knew it was the end of the line of his self-restraint.

You smelled delicious, like your mandarin orange body wash and your wet-for-him cunt. 

He stepped toward you and you slapped his face, leaving him with a grin on his face.

Then you slapped him again.

“You got it out of your system now? That anger?”

He cocked that damned eyebrow at you and moved even closer. 

“Or is it frustration?”

——

You were in trouble now.

Not because you were scared Logan was going to hurt you.

Just the opposite.

Logan dipped his head to smell at your pulse point, body so close, but never touching you. Your arms went to grab his impossible shoulders and that's when his huge paws grabbed your hips, dragging you further into his room as he backed toward his bed.

He was full on nuzzling your neck now, and your eyes were rolling as the tension between you two was finally ebbing.

The words came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking angry that you get me so frustrated, you ass..”

You were turning your head toward his, wanting his lips again, on his lap now, crotch sat on his unbuttoned jeans, and refusing to move to ignite the fire.

Logan grunted at you.

“I see that. You’re trying to stare me down even though you are leaking all over me.”

Your body clenched and got wetter at the naming of that fact. You were terrified of what might happen next.

Yet you wanted it so badly.

——

Logan couldn’t wait any more.

He removed one hand from gripping the flesh at your hips that he’d fantasized about for months, to trailing up your cheek to your hair to take off your scarf.

His fingers were in your hair again and your eyelids stuttered as you mouth dropped open for air.

That made him so fucking hard. And it made him want to kiss you again.

He had to know.

“What are you here for, Princess?”

——

His sexy whisper would do you in.

For good.

“I don’t know.”

Logan was staring at you like you were the treasure chest at the end of a quest as you tried to remain as still as possible on his lap. It was so hard.

Logan was so hard beneath you.

“Oh? Let’s run it back to earlier when you weren’t letting that big brain of yours get in the way.”

Frustration surged within you and your mouth got reckless.

“Stop yapping and just do it already.”

——-

“There’s my girl,” Logan growled at you as his dick responded to the challenge and his eyes flashed at your tone.

“Always busting my balls, aren’t you? Need to give that smart mouth something else to do.” 

Before you could reply, Logan’s lips covered yours so perfectly that it was like magnetic puzzle pieces. You fit together and locked. 

Logan’s tongue traced your lower lip and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling, gently at first and then nipping more harshly, causing a gasp and enabling entry. His tongue swiped at yours as he dominated you.

You were not going to win this round.

——

You could only whimper and grab his shoulders tighter as he kissed you. For all that was holy, why did his kisses have to be so damn good?

One of your hands ventured into the thick hair you’d dreamt of feeling between your fingertips and pulled as your desire peaked. Then your palms went to his face as he pulled away and you squirmed as you realized what was about to happen. 

“What are you here for, Princess?”

That question again.

That voice. It rumbled straight to your core and Logan wasn’t letting you off the hook. 

Logan wasn’t letting you up off of him. 

The hardness of his metal button and zipper, but mostly him (oh god he was huge) chaffed your thighs as he sealed his lips over yours again and his hand went from your scalp down your neck and back to your hip again, holding you down to feel him.

You finally moved, smearing your wetness all over your panties and his jeans and Jesus, it felt so good.

——

Logan’s eyes took in all of you in your scanty clothing, following your every movement and when his eyes moved down to your damp panties he swallowed audibly. He clenched his jaw with the strain of holding back.

Logan couldn’t deny that he wanted you. His 200 year old heart felt brand new.

“Mmmmph. Here for this feeling Logan.” 

Your voice was the greatest symphony. His stomach clenched when you looked him in the eye.

“I’m here for you.”

You leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, then whispered a demand in his ear.

“Touch me, Logan.”

Without thinking, but instinctively careful of you, Logan’s claws extended, shredding the sides of your panties and rendering them in pieces. 

“Fuck!”

You gasped as he stood up with you in his retracted grip and threw you on the bed, the scraps of your underwear abandoning you.

He couldn’t stand it anymore, he was so weak for you. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed as he ran his rough hands up and down your legs.

——-

“I’m touching you, now what?”

He spoke to you, but he was looking at the juncture of your thighs, at the well-manicured hair there, all casual, as if he weren’t teasing the hell out of you.

You had something for him.

“If you don’t know what to do, then I’ll show you.”

You reached up and took off your camisole and Logan’s eyes raked upwards and widened at the sight of what you were holding, which was your breast in one hand, as you pinched and rolled your own nipple. Your other hand trailed down your body as your legs fell open to give yourself access to your clit, which you had the nerve to play with in front of Logan’s face. 

——

Now he was the one who was angry.

Logan snarled, then batted your hand away.

“Careful Princess. Don’t poke the Wolverine.”

His hands tightened on your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was.

———

Logan leaned down, his hot breath ghosting your pussy as he looked up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. 

You couldn’t let the moment get too tender.

“What if the Wolverine wants to poke–”

Logan’s hand covered your mouth, cutting you off at just the moment he licked a long, hot, wet stripe up the center of you and then pursed his lips around your clit to suck at you ruthlessly.

Your smart ass remark was forgotten as a moan bubbled up into your throat. Logan took his hand away once it was clear that you couldn’t talk anymore, or at least that your capacity for sass had diminished. 

You were leaning up on your elbow and watching him feast on you, convulsing with each swipe of his broad tongue and each pull on your clit.

As mesmerized as you were at his skill, you managed to brush his thick dark hair away from his eyes so that he could see properly. You didn’t want anything getting in the way of the best head you’d ever received.

——-

Logan’s hands were now palming the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; you were practically sitting on his fingers. For him, you tasted even better than you smelled. He couldn’t believe it.

He looked up at you incredulously, watching your breasts moving with each heave of your lungs trying to capture air, and your mouth open to capture it. He met your eyes and frowned at you as he reached down and stroked his pulsing cock.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fucking Cuties you eat all day long. They got you tasting like a fucking orange. ‘S fucking impossible.”

He yanked you closer and buried his face between your legs. You made those cute little noises with every swipe of his tongue, and he licked and sucked until you convulsed in his hands, screaming.

You were still trying to catch your breath before he was on you, licking and suckling your hard and soft breasts.

“Damn,” you murmured as Logan swiped his thick, bulbous head into your entrance and meeting resistance, “You’re so fucking huge Logan.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that phrase, but coming from you it hit different. His chest puffed with pride.

Logn smiled into your neck, inhaling your scent and growling against your skin.

“Don’t be scared, Princess. I’ll make it feel good for you. I should be more worried than you are. I’m gonna split you open, but you are about to shatter me into a thousand pieces.”

He didn't mean to tell you the absolute truth. But he had.

Logan knew there was no coming back from this for him.

——

You shuddered at the words which were breathed over your skin.

Logan trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of your neck the looked you in the eye. It was too much.

You lowered your gaze and he chuckled, making you sigh when he tugged on your lobe with his teeth and started pushing inside you. It was slow, but sensual and somehow still desperate. 

With each increment of himself that he gave you, you felt destroyed, yet you wanted more. You clutched at his chest as you widened your legs for him, as if that would help.

“No one else has ever made me feel this way. Hurts so good, Logan. More. Please?”

The question was, were you just talking about his penis?

——-

You begging him made Logan want to cry as he slipped further inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both shuddered, you at the sensation of such fullness, and him at the way you were so snugly and warmly wrapped around him.

“Fuck! Princess. Should have known you would be hot and tight. But I wasn’t ready.”

Logan wasn’t ready for you at all.

—-

His pupils were completely blown and the look on Logan’s face made you clench down even tighter as he stroked deeper into you. 

“Y-yess, feels so good.” 

You felt like liquid in his arms. Your hands moved over his shoulders as you hitched your thigh around his hips. He ran his hand up your thigh and around to your leg, holding you in place as he began to pound into you harder.

You whispered a confession into his ear.

“I’ve dreamed about this so many times.” 

Logan lifted his head from watching his cock destroy you, his brow arched in surprise. 

“You’ve dreamt about me?” 

You bit your lip and nodded, all of a sudden feeling shy. 

“At night after a tense night between us, I’d go to my room and imagine that you’d follow me to…shut me up.”

Your lashes fanned your face as you smirked.

“Oh yeah?”

Logan swiveled his hips and you gasped. He was lighting you up from the inside.

“Sounds like a cool dream, Princess,” he said, leaning down to your ear.

“But you’re talking far too much in reality.”

And he began snapping his hips at a frenzied pace, causing your back to arch and your mouth to fall open, leaving you moaning until you screamed with your orgasm.

You couldn’t talk; hell you couldn’t even think when he was going like this.

——

At this point, there was no more finesse; Logan was stroking in and out of you, almost completely leaving you and reentering just to feel that sensation again. The way his fat cockhead breached you was like no other feeling in the world.

Your arched back was displaying your breasts to him at a perfect angle. It inspired something within him.

“Look at you Princess. All gorgeous and fucked out and taking this cock for me. All dumb now. Bet you like not having to think so much. Just take it like the good little slut you are for me, yeah?”

His filthy commentary made the coil in your belly snap, and you came like a freight train, squeezing him so much that he had pull out to keep from coming himself.

He kissed you as you could only whimper in protest. Logan felt a warmth blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if at all, as you lay melted in his arms.

He couldn’t wait to be back inside you.

“Can’t tell you how many times I dreamt about having you under me just… like… this….”

And he slid back home.

“Mmm… those lips down there suck my tip so well, how will these lips do?”

Logan’s thick thumb was in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it to show him what your mouth could do. He groaned and pried your mouth open with his hand.

“Keep it open and do what I say.”

——-

The band was tightening in your belly again. You knew what was coming and nearly came again when Logan spit into your mouth. The orgasms were blending together now.

“Swallow.”

You did, and Logan thrust into you hard an deep while thrumming your clit. That was all it took for you to cum again and this time, you gushed around him, making a mess on his bed.

He looked down in disbelief and laughed with glee, handling you like a fuck doll to do with as he pleased.

That's when you realized that you loved being used by him.

“Bet ya didn’t dream you’d be such a dirty little slut for me, did ya, Princess?”

——

Logan realized that he was your slut, too. He was lost to your sounds, the sight of your beautiful lust drunk face, and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with multiple orgasms now.

He started tracing urgent circles on your clit again.

“Look at me.”

That’s when you said the most beautiful words to him.

“So fucking good L-Logan. Cum inside me. Please. ‘M on the pill.”

“Music to… my fucking.. ears….”

——

Logan’s fingers moved to your shoulders, holding you captive as he stroked deeper and harder. His harsh breaths in your ear increased, the most erotic sound in the world.

You clamped down on him and he growled, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, the warm wave of fluid combing and causing a lovely, filthy mess.

It was so satisfying.

And you couldn’t let it lie.

——

He pulled out and stared at the ceiling in disbelief, before looking over at you to find you playing in his cum and licking your fingers, leaning over to give him a taste on your lips.

“What? You tired, Old Man?”

He shook his head and laughed as his cock came back to life.

Kissing you back had been the biggest mistake of his life.

He was never going to get you out of his system.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

-----

You shivered as Logan loomed over you, with that damned eyebrow cocked and that smirk on his face.

“Oh Princess. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Then Logan grabbed you and kissed you again.

——

Reblog if you enjoyed it! 🥰

[keeryhours]

late night with the devil - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Hawkins may think your boyfriend and his friends are devil worshippers, but he’s still just your Eddie.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, weed use

Word Count: 3,653

A/N:

So so so excited to post my first Eddie fic! I hope you enjoy!

—

The people of Hawkins were convinced there were devil worshippers among you. Satanic Panic was in full swing, and the targets were right on your friends’ backs.

They had always been seen as Freaks, but the group of metalheads and their love for D&D were under real public scrutiny now. You knew your friends were good people, but now you were being warned to stay away from them by teachers, your parents forbidding you from ever seeing them again.

That’s how you found yourself crawling out of your bedroom window at 11:30pm, your parents long asleep. The wood of the window sill scratched against your arms painfully as you lowered yourself to the ground. You hissed when you landed on your feet, checking for any splinters. You brushed the dirt off your jeans.

Dry fallen leaves crunched under your feet as you walked through your yard. Reaching the front of the house, you grabbed your bike from against the garage. You hadn’t rode it much in the past couple years. Typically Eddie would pick you up in his van, or there was usually at least one person with a car in whatever friend group you hung out with. Obviously that wasn’t happening tonight.

You pedaled to Forest Hills, your anger at your parents only growing as you went. Anger at them for falling for this sensationalist crap, anger at them for turning on Eddie and your other friends when they knew they weren’t bad people. They may never have been Eddie’s biggest fans - they didn’t love that he was on his third senior year and had heard rumors about the small business he ran - but they didn’t have a real problem with him. But now they have let the news and gossip convince them that your boyfriend and your friends were evil.

You were still angry when you rolled past the park’s sign, but it faded as you made the remaining short distance to Eddie’s trailer. You spotted your boyfriend’s lanky legs in his ripped jeans immediately, sitting on the front steps. You climbed off your bike and leaned it against the side of the trailer as Eddie stood, a cigarette in his hand. You walked over to him, rushing into his arms when holds them open for you. You wrap your arms around his waist and he wraps his around your body, holding you close.

“I’m glad you got here okay,” Eddie said, and you could feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he spoke. “I hate that I can’t just come get you.”

“I know. Me too.” You looked up at him and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled at him.

“Let me finish this and we can go inside.”

You and Eddie sat next to each other on the steps. He talked to you about his plans for his next D&D campaign as he smoked, you hanging on to every word. Eddie was so creative, and his campaigns were always so detailed. It felt like being told the world’s most interesting story.

When he finished his cigarette, Eddie tossed it aside and stood to his full height, holding out his hand for you. You took it with a smile and he pulled you to your feet with enough effort that you stumbled into his chest once you were up. Eddie laughed, putting his hands on your hips to steady you.

He ushered you into the trailer ahead of him. You had spent a lot of nights here since you and Eddie started hanging out, you always had it to yourselves since his uncle Wayne worked nights. It felt like having your own place together, sometimes.

You made yourself comfortable as usual, pulling a soda from the fridge. You giggled as you felt Eddie’s arms snaking around your waist from behind, curls tickling your face as he buried his face in your neck, placing soft kisses.

You hummed with a smile on your face as you popped open the can of soda and Eddie rocked you back and forth in his arms. “I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbled against your skin. His leather jacket was cool against your arms.

Things had been difficult for Eddie since all this shit had started. He and his friends had always been outcasts, but now it was worse. Now you worried for their actual safety, constantly scared some hick will decide to take the “satan worshippers” into their own hands and do something crazy.

You spun around in his arms, your left arm draping over his shoulder while your right still held onto the cold can. Eddie smiled down at you with that grin that always gave you butterflies. His thumbs rubbed circles on your hips as they rested there.

“Do you want to smoke?” he asked, which brought a grin to your face.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, smiling up at your boyfriend’s tall frame.

He pulled away from you reluctantly with a last minute squeeze of your hip before he was bowing dramatically and rushing off back to his bedroom. You laughed as you drank your soda. You flopped down on the couch, kicking your feet up on the table, nearly knocking over an overly filled ashtray in the process.

Eddie was back shortly after, perfectly rolled joint in his hand as he collapsed on the couch next to you. You sat the can on the table as Eddie handed you the joint and a lighter with a flourish. “Ladies first.”

You plucked it from his hand with a smile, placing it between your lips and lighting it with Eddie’s lighter. Relaxation seems to wash over you immediately as you take a deep drag, holding the smoke in your lungs. You leaned back against the cushions as you let it out. Eddie’s hand absentmindedly played with your thigh as he watched you with interest.

“You’re so hot when you smoke,” he mumbled, and it made you giggle as you took your second hit.

“You are, too,” you said through the smoke and passed the joint to him. He laughed as he took it.

He put on a show for you as he took his turn, holding your eye contact as he inhaled and held the smoke. Then he was leaning forward, free hand cupping the back of your head as he brought his lips to yours and breathed the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled it, the smoke from Eddie’s own hit leaving your mouth as you exhaled. Eddie bit his lip as he watched you, a smirk on his pretty face, before he was hitting it again.

The two of you passed the joint back and forth until the roach was so small it was basically unsmokable. You were feeling infinitely more relaxed, sinking into the couch. Eddie always got extra talkative when he was high and this was no exception.

“So I told him,” Eddie said, head tilted back against the couch as he stared at the ceiling and talked with his hands. “I told him no, we could not reschedule the campaign. It’s the end of the campaign.” Eddie scoffed and looked at you like can you believe that?

You nodded at him, but you were having a hard time focusing on his words. Your brain was working so slow and he talked so fast. You felt some of the fogginess in your brain clear away at the feeling of his large hand on your thigh again. He rubbed it this time, trailing his hand higher and higher. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

He met your gaze with a smirk. He leaned in, his leather jacket audibly crinkling as he moved. You were relieved to feel his lips on yours again, the familiar feeling of his mouth working against yours, his tongue slipping between your lips. You hummed into the kiss, your hand resting on his chest.

“Wanna go to my room?” he asked you, low voice rumbling in his chest.

You nodded and Eddie wasted no time standing from the couch, reaching a hand out for you like a gentleman. You took his hand and he lifted you. He followed you to the back of the trailer where his bedroom was, slapping your ass as you walked. You laughed, turning around to give him a playful glare.

He closed the door to his bedroom behind you. You watched as he went straight for the stereo, putting on some Metallica. He turned around and gave you a mischievous look before he basically tackled you onto the bed, causing you to fall back onto the mattress, laughing hard. He lifted himself above you and you scooted back to lay against the pillows. Your body buzzed with anticipation.

Eddie shrugged his leather jacket off, dropping it to the floor. His ringed hands slid up your legs, from your ankles to your calves to your thighs. You could tell he wanted it bad tonight by the dark look in his eyes, the way he stared at your body like he wanted to devour it.

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed that, too, his guitar pick necklace falling to rest against his bare chest. You rubbed your hands over the now exposed skin, feeling his firm chest, his sides, his soft belly. He sighed at the feeling.

“You’re so beautiful…” Eddie mumbled, hands still rubbing your thighs. His hands creeped forward until they reached the buttons of your jeans. You watched him intently as his long, dexterous fingers undid them with ease, pulling the material down your legs.

His hands slid up your shirt next, feeling how smooth your skin was always did something to him. He lifted your shirt as his hands traveled up until his fingers were grazing your bra. You sat up for him for a second so he could pull your shirt off.

Eddie took in the sight of you laying beneath him in only your underwear with hungry eyes. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you like this before, but it never got old. He never got used to it. His rings were cold against your skin as he felt all over your body, exploring at his own pace. You didn’t mind. It felt nice everywhere he touched you. You could see the bulge straining in his ripped jeans.

“Eddie…” you whined, causing him to break out of his trance and look up at you.

“What is it, baby?” he asked as he kept rubbing his hands up and down your sides. It gave you goosebumps.

“Really want you…” you whined again, lips pouting. Eddie chuckled lowly at that, his fingers gripping your sides a little harder.

“Yeah? You want me?” he asked, looking at you with those dark eyes, laced with desire. Pupils blown wide in lust. Oh, Eddie wanted it bad. “Are you wet for me, baby?” His fingers traced your core over your underwear, finding the answer for himself. He smirked. “All for me?” he asked, eyes shooting up to meet yours.

“Yeah, all for you, Eddie,” you breathed, his light touch where you wanted him so badly driving you crazy. He pressed a little harder, right over your clit, and you cried out with a little “Ah!”

Eddie laughed that sinister sounding laugh once again, then his hands were sliding up your body and around your back, unhooking your bra and tossing it. His hands immediately found your tits, groping them like he was seeing them for the first time as he grinded his clothed hips against your wet panties. You could feel how hard he was even through the multiple layers.

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned, his voice so low you barely heard it. His thumb rubbed over your nipples before he started to roll and pinch them between his fingers. He leaned over, wrapping his mouth around one of them. He was moaning the second he got his lips on you, sucking your nipple into his mouth and running his tongue around it in circles. You arched up into him, only pushing your chest further into his face, which he appreciated.

He switched to your other breast to give that nipple equal attention. You moaned, pushing your hips up to press against him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. Eddie had you so turned on, you didn’t feel like you could wait another second.

When he pulled off of your nipple, he buried his face in your tits, using his hands to push them closer together around his face.

“I could live in here,” he said, voice muffled between them. You laughed hard, running your hands through his hair, giving him full body chills.

He pulled back to place hungry kisses over your chest and neck, biting and sucking against the sensitive pulse point, getting the reaction from you he wanted. You dug your nails into his back harder and he hissed.

“Need you now, Eds,” you begged, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. You needed him to fill you the way only he could.

He pulls back to look at you with those glazed over eyes. “You want my cock?” he asked, looking fully lost in the moment already.

“Yes,” you cried, rolling your hips up beneath him and trying to get him where you want him. Eddie took the hint and got on his knees between your legs. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and pulled them off slowly, savoring it.

He spread your legs wide, big brown eyes taking in the sight of your bare cunt laid out before him, all for him. “Oh, baby,” he groaned, reaching forward to trace a long finger through your folds. He held it up to show you just how wet you were before he popped it in his mouth, sucking it clean.

Eddie reached for his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the belt loops before tossing it to the floor with a clang. He quickly undid his jeans and pushed them and his boxers down his legs, kicking them off. You moaned when his hard length was finally revealed, and he gave you a cocky smirk.

He leaned over your body again, kissing up your chest and neck to place a peck on your lips before he reached for the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling a condom from the box. He sat back up on his knees and ripped the package open with his teeth, sliding the rubber onto his dick.

He stroked himself quickly a couple times then leaned over you, resting his weight on one forearm as his other hand lined the thick tip of his cock up right against your entrance. Your heart thudded hard in your chest at the feeling, you just wanted him inside you now.

Eddie began to push into you, eyes watching your face as every inch sinks into your warm, wet pussy, wrapping around him perfectly. He felt like he was in heaven, and he couldn’t hold back the groan that spilled from his lips as he buried himself to the hilt. Your hands dug into his skin even harder, holding onto him like you’d disappear if you let go.

He peppered kisses all over your face and neck as he let you get adjusted. He pulled his hips back slowly, then snapped them back into you, drawing a strangled cry from your lips.

“Eddie!” you cried, already feeling so much when he’d only just started. You felt your core tighten around him, holding him even tighter, and he hissed as he set a steady rhythm with his hips.

“God, I’ve barely even fucked you yet…” he mumbled, drinking in your already fucked-out expression and mouth hanging open. He couldn’t deny what the sight of you like this did to him, his cock growing impossibly harder inside of you, his balls tightening, and suddenly he worried he’d cum way too fast like he did your first time together. You hadn’t minded, but he had been humiliated, and he didn’t want a repeat.

Eddie rolled his hips against you at the perfect pace. You tangled your hands in his wild hair and pulled him down to kiss you again, which he did eagerly, tongue in your mouth immediately as he tangled with yours and kissed you hungrily.

He groaned into your mouth as he sped up his pace, thoroughly pounding into you now. The sounds of the two of you - skin slapping together, bed creaking, your moans and grunts and whines and whimpers - filled the room, nearly as loud as the heavy music playing over his speakers. It drove Eddie even more wild.

He sat back up on his knees, grabbing onto your hips with a bruising grip and lifting them higher as he began fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts. You nearly screamed, the intense way his cockhead was ruthlessly pressing against your bundle of nerves with every thrust making you see stars in your vision.

“Fuck, you like that?” Eddie gritted out through clenched teeth, his curls bouncing with every wild thrust into you.

“Feels so good,” you managed to say between moans, hands tangling in the sheets since you can’t comfortably grab onto some part of his body right now, even though that’s what you want.

And it did feel incredible. Your mind was fuzzy and you weren’t sure anymore if it was from the weed or Eddie’s dick. You felt your release building inside you already.

“Fuck yeah it does,” Eddie spits out, and he looks like he’s lost in his own pleasure as his eyes fall closed and his mouth parts, grunts falling from his pretty lips with every brutal thrust. His head falls back and he uses his hands to help pull you against him to meet the thrusts of his own hips, making it even more intense, which you didn’t think was possible.

He looked back down at your body, one hand leaving your hip to rub circles on your clit with his thumb. The sudden sensation made you cry out with a high pitched “Oh!”, eyes fluttering shut as Eddie pushed you to the brink with calculated precision. He hadn’t been experienced when you had gotten together, but damn if he wasn’t a ridiculously quick learner.

He could feel you tightening around him, pussy gripping him so good he felt like he might fall apart right then and there. He cursed under his breath, hips moving a little faster as he pushed you to your release. “Yeah, cum on my cock baby, please, need to feel you making a mess all over me.” Eddie was practically begging as he spoke, desperate to make you cum so he could stop holding back.

“I…gonna cum, Eddie, oh shit-“

A proud smile spread across Eddie’s lips as you came undone for him, watching your pretty face twist in ecstasy as you moaned like his little slut, crying out his name over and over. It was music to his ears, and you were a sight for sore eyes as you utterly fell apart. More than anything, the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around him from your orgasm pushed him over the edge and into his own.

Eddie laid his body over yours the second your high subsided. He grabbed your hands and lifted them over your head, intertwining your fingers with his, and he kissed you hard as it finally hit him. Hard.

Eddie whimpered against your lips before letting out a long, low groan, muscles clenching and body trembling as he finished inside you, spilling into the condom. He kept pumping in shallow thrusts until he had spilled every last drop, his body completely spent as he came harder than he ever does on his own.

He didn’t move as you both caught your breath. Eddie’s body felt weak, like he had used every bit of energy he had. Finally he works up the effort to roll off of you, pecking your lips before he does. You hear him as he pulls the condom off, tying it up and throwing it in the trash can before he’s sliding up against you and wrapping his arm around your waist, your naked bodies pressed together.

You turned on your side and he spooned against you, your body fitting against his like a puzzle piece. His hair tickled your shoulders as he placed kisses to the backs of them before laying his head down against you.

“I love you,” he mumbled sleepily. You could tell he wouldn’t stay awake much longer. He had been thoroughly worn out.

“I love you too,” you said back, fingers gently rubbing his hand that was pressed right above your navel.

He hummed contentedly, and you pulled the blankets over the both of you. You had no desire to get out of his bed, to leave his warm embrace. Wayne never cared if you stayed over, and you figured you could sneak back into your own room before your parents noticed in the morning.

You really weren’t concerned with the logistics right now. This was the only place you wanted to be, and you didn’t care about anything else.

You felt your eyes beginning to grow heavy. Your eyes roamed over the familiar bedroom, messy as usual. You looked at his guitar hanging on the wall, the only other lady you’d ever have to share his heart with. Your gaze wandered to the bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you together on display for him to look at every night before he goes to sleep and every morning when he wakes up.

Eddie made you feel so loved and cared for. You hoped you made him feel the same.

You snuggled deeper into the warmth of his arms. You loved your boyfriend. Whether everyone in town thought he was the devil or not.

[beomcoups]

here's to forever (the athlete)

summary: today is the day you finally marry your best friend

genre: fluff, suggestive, 18+ warnings: mentions of sex (hoshi wants to pump some babies into you), mentions of pregnancy words: 0.9k AN: Thank you, @horanghater, for looking over this for me. Every year on the anniversary of the OG fic, I always end up writing another part about their lives since they met. I'm becoming a real yearner. Anyhoo, I decided to go ahead and make a series master list because I am sure more will come, lol. -series masterlist

“I love you.” You rub Soonyoung’s hand with your thumb as he holds back tears, standing before the officiant, his football coach. You just married the love of your life and best friend in front of your family and friends on a large farm in the country. You exchanged heartfelt vows in front of one hundred people on the estate, with the birds singing in the sky and the geese swimming happily in the lake. So far, this day has been nothing short of magical, with those six little words sealing the deal. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Soonyoung pulls the veil over your face and kisses you with a fervent need that sets your nerves on fire. Everyone and everything disappears for a second, but it doesn’t matter; you got your dream guy. Your fingers intertwine with his as you finally break apart, met by the thunderous applause of your guests who watched you become one with your now husband, their approval and joy palpable in the atmosphere. Soonyoung waves your hands triumphantly in the air as you walk down the aisle, flashing your wedding rings with pride for everyone to see. You haven’t seen him this proud since he won his first Super Bowl. Two and a half years later, with two more championship rings added to his collection, his eyes have never shined brighter. Soonyoung leads you away from your guests, taking you down a short path to the lake's edge. When you looked at venues, you found this place while looking through Pinterest, falling in love with the green pastures of the farm and the shining crystal-like waters. Soonyoung didn’t care where you married as long as you were his wife by the end of it. But when you took a trip out here and looked at the place in person, you both knew this was where it was meant to be. With the sun shining through the ivory clouds, it was almost as if your dads were looking down and giving their blessing.  

“We did it, babe,” you revel at the scene. “It’s you and me officially.” 

“Darlin’, you and I were official from the day we met. You just didn’t know it yet.” 

You chuckle and lean into him because, honestly, he is right. You were interested in him the first time you met; you were in denial then. You always swore you wouldn’t be one of those journalists who mixes business with pleasure, yet here you are, marrying the said pleasure. Life works out funny that way. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you close. “I can’t wait to get out of here and pump some babies into you.”

“Same here, baby,” you kiss his lips. “We might be a little late on the baby part, though.”

Soonyoung looks at you curiously as you reach into the secret pocket of your wedding dress. You had it sown in secret when it was tailored initially to keep your lipstick in if you needed to freshen up or had anything else in mind. But a couple of weeks ago, when you went for your routine check-up, you found out you were ten weeks pregnant. You and Soonyoung talked about kids, and you both want them; this will be earlier than you both planned. It explained why you felt lethargic lately and the smell of anything nauseated you. You weren’t sure how to tell him, so you carried it around just in case the opportunity arose. Now is the time. 

Holding up the ultrasound, you hand him the black-and-white photo of the baby growing inside of you. He studies the picture, then looks at you and your stomach, the dots connecting in his brain. You nod, confirming what he is thinking: you will be having his first child. 

“Aww baby,” he whispers. “You’re pregnant.” 

“Mmhmm,” you nod as you wipe his tears away. 

He kisses you again, this time sweeter, more tenderer, and full of emotion that he can’t convey in words. You naturally melt into him, feeling safe and secure that the future you two have will be bright. Soonyoung has always said he loved you more than anything, but that’s not true. You love him more. He made you believe in love again, protected you when you needed it, and showed up when you needed him the most. You never felt scared to share your thoughts with him, and even if he didn’t understand, he listened and tried anyway. He never tried to take your spotlight. He respected you and made sure others did, too. Soonyoung brings an array of colors to your mundane world that you hope never goes away. God, you love him so much that it hurts.  

“Well, it makes sense why you weren’t drinking the champagne last night,” he muses. “You love champagne.”

“Y-yeah,” you sniffle. 

A comfortable silence falls between you two, taking in the moment as you watch two geese embrace one another. If someone had told you over three years ago that you would be marrying thee Kwon Soonyoung and having his child, you would have laughed in their face. But clearly, the universe has a sense of humor. 

“I want to keep this between us,” you say suddenly. “It’s our first child, and I want to hold on to this a little bit longer before family, friends, and the media get a hold of it. You already know how it goes.”

“Of course, baby,” he readily agrees. “Whatever you want.”

He kisses your forehead, leading you back to the photographers so you can start taking pictures. Your makeup artist brushes up your makeup, and unbeknownst to you, Soonyoung gazes at you from afar, watching you with so much pride and love in his heart. The sun shines brighter as if it’s reflecting the future you will have with each other. 

Here is to forever.

[rallamajoop]

That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

[greynatomy]

you made it

leah williamson x reader

last fic of 2023 (at least from where i am)

i want to thank all who’ve read all that i’ve put out this year and all the mutuals i’ve made. i appreciate each and every one of you.

hope you all have a happy new year!

———

Leah Williamson, the captain of England who led her team to victory in the Euros, was rushing through the streets of London, rushing to get back home, apologizing to all she runs into.

Leah was invited to a ‘party’ with many other athletes all the way in New York. She’d told her agent to decline the invitation, but she couldn’t get out of it. She usually had a plus one with her, but not tonight.

‘Who would throw an event like this on New Year’s Eve?’ She thought.

After winning the Euros, the captain was invited to even after event, hardly any breaks in between on top of her ACL recovery. Finding some time for herself is rare, but not impossible. She makes it work. But right now, her priority is to get home as soon as possible.

—

Leah is back home in Milton Keynes at some neighborhood party time ring in 2018. She’s just sign her senior contract for Arsenal a couple months back and is at an all time high.

Mingling around the house with people her age, she decided to step outside a bit for some space. Walking towards the pool, she sees someone sat on the edge of it.

“Think I could join you?” Leah asked rather timidly.

“Go ahead.” You gestured to the spot next to you. 

Leah mirrors you, taking her shoes and socks off, splashing her feet in the water a bit. When you finally turn your head towards her, her breath got caught in her throat.

‘Beautiful’ She thought.

Talking to you was like a breath of fresh air to Leah. It was as if she knew you for longer than the hour you both sat by the pool. You both weren’t aware of the time until you heard everyone else inside counting down.

10

9

8

7

6

5

Leah looks a bit nervous when you turned your head towards her, so you placed your hand on her arm. 

4

Leah however, was even more nervous now. Your touch sent sparks throughout her body, something she’s never felt before.

3

2

Leah turns her whole body to face you, where you were already looking at her. She timidly reaches over and delicately places a hand on your cheek, leaning her face closer.

“May I?” She asks in a whisper.

You hold her wrist, the one by your face and lean in, closing the gap.

1

Your lips were soft, molding perfectly with Leah’s.  She closes her eyes, relishing in the moment. After what felt like forever, you pulled away, much to Leah’s disappointment.

“Wow.” Was the first thing Leah said, seeing a blush creep up onto your cheeks, her cheeks doing the same.

You bite your bottom lip to stop the corner of your lips from rising. You get up from the side of the pool, grabbing your shoes, Leah copying.

“Thank you for the New Year’s kiss.” You say, backing away from where Leah is rooted from her spot.

“Thank you for letting me.” She replied. Just before you left, she called out to you. “I don’t even know your name!”

All you gave her was a smile and a wink, disappeared from her view.

~

New Year’s Eve 2019 was a bit similar as the year before. She was back in Milton Keynes, but stayed to celebrate back at home. Her mum invited a few friends.

It was nearing midnight, a minute before the clock struck twelve when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Leah smirked, leaning close. “It is my mum’s house.”

“Touché.”

You were each other’s New Year’s kiss for the second time in a row. But before you disappeared again, she caught your hand, pulling you incredibly close to her body.

“Would you want to go on a date?”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Do you know mine?”

You shook your head side to side.

“Y/N.” 

“Y/N. Beautiful.”

“Yours?”

“Leah.”

“Well, Leah. It looks like you’ve got yourself a date.”

—

Right when Leah got off the plane, she rushed out the building, hoping to quickly catch a cab, which she fortunately got into one.

Sitting in the back seat, she checks her watch.

11:38

Twenty-two minutes until midnight.

“Is there a way around the traffic?” She asks the driver.

“It’s New Year’s Eve. Everyone’s trying to get home.”

She knows London like the back of her hand, and knew she was close to home, so she quickly pays the man, thanking him, and runs off, passing all the cars.

11:50

She runs a bit faster, already seeing her street from where she is. Many people staring at her, but she didn’t care, she just had to get home.

11:55

She was only a couple of streets away, making her more determined than ever. She’d be damned if she didn’t make it in time.

11:59

Arriving at the front door, she pats all her pockets, looking for her keys. She can hear everyone around the neighborhood counting down.

She rapidly knocks on the door, hoping for it to just magically open. It did right when the clock struck midnight.

You were, however, caught off guard when you feel lips pressed onto yours, about to push the person away when a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

Wrapping your own arms around her neck, you deepen the kiss, cheers and fireworks can be heard in the background, neither of you paying any mind.

Pulling away, she rests her forehead against your, the both of your catching your breath.

“You made it.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to break the bubble you two are in.

“You’ve been my New Year’s kiss since 2018, I’d be damned if I ever missed one.” Leah pulls you back in for another kiss, before kneeling down and giving your bump a soft kiss. “It’s also our last one as a family of two.” She looks up at you from her kneeling position.

“Oh, how I love you so much.”

[gigabyte-flare]

There’s No Escape (Part 1)

Summary: You are going through a rather nasty breakup as you escape your ex-boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away on a top secret government assignment. You move to a completely new state in hopes he won’t find you. You clearly underestimated his determination because he has no intention of letting you go. 

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 1.1k (Next part should be longer! Wanted to get story building stuff out of the way before getting to the good stuff ;) )

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

A/N: @dollrxst, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ghostkennedy, @lipglossanon and like a bunch of others who’s fics I’ve consumed and have been inspired by, this is all your fault and I’m not even mad about it. Please excuse grammatical errors and such, it’s been a hot second since I’ve written stuff like this. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was now or never.

Leon Scott Kennedy, your soon to be ex-boyfriend, is away on some top secret government assignment and isn’t due back for about three days. You had been seeing each other for about six months and he insisted you move in with him after three months. He seemed wonderful at first, but living with him proved to be way more than you had signed up for.

He was bat shit insane.

You weren’t sure if it was due to unaddressed trauma from his line of work or whatever but his controlling and sick nature was ludicrous to you. He was controlling, manipulative and sick in the head. His idea of fun was holding a knife to your throat while fucking the absolute shit out of you. That was just the tip of the iceberg on the things he forced you to do for his pleasure. 

Anything you absolutely could not live without was getting stuffed into your little Jeep Renegade. If it didn’t fit, it was getting left behind because you had absolutely no intention of coming back. Clothes, toiletries, some of your books, your video game console and games, a couple pillows and some sheets all got stuffed in. When you were confident you had everything essential for your impromptu move, you closed the back hatch on the Renegade and grabbed your purse, phone and car keys from the kitchen counter, making sure to leave the copy of the apartment key you miraculously found behind. You lock the apartment door and shut it. You lean up against it and take a deep breath before you rush back down to your car. You had a long ride ahead of you; Washington D.C. to Boston was about a 9 hour drive.

It was now or never; you weren’t about to squander this opportunity to escape.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was dark by the time you finally arrived in Boston. You navigate the confusing winding streets and find your apartment that you got with your best friend, Becky. You see her come out of the front door as you pull up in your car and park. You see her wave as you step out.

“Hey, you made it! I trust you had a good ride,” she inquires.

“Yeah, long as hell, sorry I’m so late. What time is it?”

“It’s like 9:30, come on in! I ordered pizza for us,” she says, motioning you in. 

You grab your purse, keys, phone and one of the pillows you had stuffed into your car and go inside the apartment. You decide you can unload your stuff in the morning. The kitchen is the first room you end up in and you set your stuff down on the small island before stumbling your tired legs into the living room where the smell of pizza was calling your name. You practically collapse in a reclining chair after grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table. You let out a loud sigh of relief. You made it. You escaped.

“How are you feeling?” Becky asks before taking a bite out of her slice of pizza.

You finish chewing on yours and swallow hard, “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I’m honestly surprised I’m not dead from some of the bullshit Leon pulled.”

Becky shifts nervously on the couch. She was the only person you confided in about your sick, demented ex-boyfriend. You didn’t even tell your parents, you didn’t want to worry them. 

When you moved in with Leon, he forced you to quit your well paying I.T. job and forbade you from ever leaving the apartment alone. He took your phone away, but you found ways to sneak it back so that you could at least contact Becky. You didn’t want to think about the things he made you do; it was an absolute miracle you weren’t dead or pregnant from the amount of abuse you endured. 

“He hasn’t contacted you yet, has he?” 

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you lean back in the recliner, “nah, he won’t be back from whatever assignment he’s on for another few days, and I blocked his number.”

“Good,” Becky replies with a nod.

“I’m going to hit the sack,” you say suddenly as you get up from the chair and begin to walk back into the kitchen to collect your stuff. 

“No problem, I’ll help you unload your car tomorrow. I was able to get the day off from work.”

“Thanks, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late in the afternoon when Leon finally gets home from his excursion, his forearms covered in scraps and bruises. He couldn’t wait to see his baby girl, his cock growing hard from the anticipation. 

He fumbled with his keys in the low light until finding the correct one to unlock the front door to the apartment. He unlocks the door and opens it.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” Leon calls out.

But there’s no response.

“Sweetie? Are you asleep?”

Nothing.

Leon could feel adrenaline rush through his veins as he starts to frantically search each room for his sweetheart. He became hyper aware of the dead silence of the apartment the further he searched. When he got to the bedroom, he ripped the closet doors open and found most of your clothes were gone. He ran into the bathroom; your toiletries were gone. Almost all your belongings were gone.

“No, no, no, no, nO, NO, NO!”

Where could you have gone? He never in a million dreams imagined you would ever leave him. You belonged to him. You were his everything. Everything he did, he did it for you, he did it to keep you safe from the disgusting world. Pure rage began to flow through him as he stalked back into the kitchen. Unsheathing his knife, he stabbed it into the center of the small dining table before he used both hands to flip it, letting out a primal growl as he did so. 

“That fucking ungrateful bitch!” he growls before walking over to the overturned table to retrieve his knife. 

“I loved you, took care of you, protected you… and this is the thanks I get…”

He pulls out his cellphone, dialing your number and putting the phone to his ear.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please check the number and try again.”

Taking a deep breath, he then attempts to send a text to the number.

We’re sorry, the number you have entered is not valid.

Breathing heavily, he puts his phone back in his pocket, balling both his fists and closing his cobalt eyes. He stood there for a moment, seething when he suddenly appeared to have a revelation. His eyes snap back open and he digs his phone back out from his pocket and opens an app. A smile slowly overcomes him as stares down at the phone like he was staring down at a long lost lover.

“There you are. Don’t worry baby girl. Daddy’s coming to get you.”

Part 2

[zeroeightzeroone]

Hiyaa,

I have a request?

Producer!Bang chan x reader

Established relationship

Angst/comfort

Bang chan is in a bad mood so when he's at the studio he shouts at a co-worker he's close to/ 3racha member.

The co-worker/3racha member leaves and bumps into reader (who was already on the way to the studio? Because they haven't spent time together in a while?) and like hints at chan's bad mood.

Reader enters studio and chan starts to get mad but like reader is like "can I sit on your lap?" and he's like ❔ and she's like "you can continue working, can I sit on your lap?" and he's like "... Yeah?". Then it's fluff fluff fluff because fluff is the best 💯💯🚫🧢. Like a lot of fluff.

Oh also can you work in the reader saying something along the lines of "I get your frustrated but can you please not speak to me like that?" 🥺

And like chan gets more at peace/ relaxed/ less frustrated and apologies to coworker/ member and yeah and they all live happily ever after

creative differences - bang chan

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff/soft (eventually)

pairings: idol/producer!bang chan x fem!reader

warnings: chan is snappy, use of profanity

notes: thank you so much for your request <3 i hope i did it justice. this may also be the longest fic i've posted on this account with a little over 4.3k words

wc ~4.3 | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

since their debut, the company had already set expectations that the boys would have at least two comebacks a year–one in the first half of the year and another in the latter half. if they wanted to have more than two, they could, but two was the absolute least. the first comeback of this year for the boys went off without a hitch, resulting in topping multiple charts and receiving a handful of music show wins. however, the process for this second comeback of the year was already off to a rocky start, and the road ahead only looks winding and increasingly difficult.

the boys of 3racha have been in the studio every day for the past couple of weeks brainstorming and trying to put things together for the upcoming release. but they all seem to be hitting walls, or the ideas clash due to the amount of stress and pressures looming over their heads. so many people are counting on them–the members, producers, choreographers, and the jyp entertainment team, stay. and as the days in the studio pass, with the boys not agreeing on songs, arrangements, mixing, and more, the weight on their shoulders increases as well.

bang chan, the leader of stray kids and 3racha, felt the pressures even more so than changbin and han did.

currently, the three boys find themselves in chan's room inside the jyp entertainment building; chan is seated on the rolling chair in front of the multiple screens and mixing boards, while changbin and han are seated on either end of the couch. the three of them with their phones, laptops and notebooks opened up as they continue to brainstorm and discuss. but much like weeks prior, the progress isn't progressing, the progress is lacking or non-existent.

letting a deep sigh slip past his lips, han's eyebrows furrow in frustration as he scratches over old bullet points and writes new ones in his notebook, looking for ideas that could work. changbin is scrolling through his notes app and audio recording app, intermittently bringing the speakers at the bottom of his phone closer to his ear to hear the audio better as it's turned down to not disturb the other two, changbin tapping his fingers on his knee as he listens with his lip pursed in a tight line. chan is doing a mix of what the two are doing; writing and scratching out old and new ideas in his notebook, scrolling through his notes and audio recording apps to find something that they could work with, as well as filing through the production hardware on the system to find any drafts that could also be used to at the least, spark some inspiration.

at one point, chan feels like he's going to tug his hair out by the roots as he runs his fingers through his locks haphazardly. he's reaching the end of his patience; they've been working for weeks, and they can't even find a starting place for the comeback–he feels as if all the old material he finds in the apps aren't good enough, that they won't exceed the expectations or hype of the last comeback, that it won't even reach those expectations. it's frustrating chan to no end as he feels like he's reaching a dead end.

with a sigh, chan turns in his chair to discuss with han and changbin who are on the couch. when changbin notices this, he glances at han from the corner of his eye, surveys the atmosphere, and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

"we need to figure something out," chan splutters out, his mind quite frantic, "we have to have some ideas–at least something?"

he looks between changbin and han on the couch, their faces look just as discontented and their minds are frantic but blank at the same time–mirroring chan's own face and mind. chan shuts his eyes in an attempt to calm down his bubbling emotions as he leans back into his chair.

"we could look through the demos again?" han throws a suggestion onto the table.

"which ones?" changbin questions.

han shrugs while at the same time he says, "all of them?"

"why would we look through demos we already vetoed?" chan scoffs, "that would be a complete waste of time."

"it's just a suggestion," han restates, this time his tone laced with hints of irritation, "maybe one of those vetoed demos could actually work; we just need to rework it."

"this isn't the first time we've gone through the demos in the past couple of weeks," chan reminds, "if one of those demos could actually work, we would've found it on the first or second round of looking."

"what demos are you thinking of specifically?" changbin asks han, who shrugs.

"i don't know, but what harm is there to look again?"

chan groans in agitation, not understanding why han is so adamant about looking through the demos again: "this would probably be the fourth time–why waste our time with a fifth? we want to make progress, looking for a fifth time is a complete waste of time."

the older boy's tone is sharp, prompting an eye roll from the youngest in the room, his arms going up in protest: " hey. it was just a suggestion–at least something to get the ball rolling." he reiterates chan's words from the beginning of the conversation.

"how is doing something that hasn't worked the past four times for a fifth going to work? if it didn't work a majority, if not, all the past times–it's not going to work," the tension in the room continues to build.

"wouldn't it be better to start from scratch instead of looking through ideas that we already decided weren't working?" changbin chimes in.

at this, han starts to feel like the two older boys are ganging up against him, and he defends himself quickly, "once again, it was just a suggestion. i don't see either of you suggesting anything."

changbin scoffs, "did I not just suggest starting from scratch instead of looking through rejected ideas?"

han turns his head to face changbin on the other end of the couch, "haven't we also been trying to start from scratch these past couple of weeks? that also hasn't been working–if it did, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

"how are we supposed to start from scratch if we have no ideas?" chan asks in a matter-of-fact tone.

"if we look through the old demos, put some together or play around, then maybe we can find ideas," han speaks slowly as if he's trying to enunciate his point to drill it into the other two's heads, "it's better than sitting at our notebooks and laptops and writing down, absolutely nothing."

han's method of slowing down and enunciating seems to have gone through changbin's head as he begins to see han's point. if they can't conjure something up from nothing, they might as well try to conjure something up from their old demos or many recordings of melodies that have come to mind in the past. putting things together could trigger some inspiration.

"no, i think han has a point here," changbin states, "if we have no foundation or starting point, we can't build anything on top of it. at least with the old demos, we can continue to build off of what we have."

a deep breath expels from chan's lips as he listens to both han and changbin bounce words of agreement off each other for this working with old demos plan.

"again," chan says slowly, "if it didn't work the past four times, why would it work now? the odds are not in your favour."

"but there's still a chance it could work," han argues, "if there's a chance, why not take it?"

chan tongues at his cheek, "because we have a deadline. we can't keep grasping at straws that are obviously not working."

"starting from scratch and coming up with absolutely nothing is also not going to help us meet the deadline."

"so you want to create an album of demos we've rejected? you want to release a subpar album?" chan taunts.

"that's not what i'm saying," han shakes his head.

"that's what i'm hearing!"

"look, hyung," changbin steps in, "just listen to us for a second."

"i'm listening," chan snaps, "and i disagree. we have a standard to reach, one to exceed. i'll be damned if we release something below that."

"why the hell would we release something below standard?" changbin scoffs, running his hands through his hair and over his face in exasperation. letting his hands linger on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.

the youngest in the room snaps at chan, "the fuck? is this you saying you lack faith in our producing skills? that we can't rework old demos to produce something that not only hits that standard but exceeds it?"

the sharp change in han's tone and volume alerts changbin, who realizes this conversation–well now it's an argument–is getting out of hand. chan and han are practically at each others throats and they're both too headstrong but stubborn at the same time, neither of them will back down. obviously, avoiding conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, but at this point, where emotions are high, and egos are even higher, no meaningful or productive conversation regarding the album will be shared. changbin realizes he needs to jump into action to diffuse the situation before it becomes a screaming match between the two heated bandmates.

"i'm saying we have a standard, we have expectations to uphold," chan speaks slowly, his voice deeper as he's practically sneering at han, "one that the company has for us, stay, everyone."

han snarls back, eyes throwing daggers in chan's direction, "i know that. i know that damn fucking well. i'm out here trying to innovate some sort of progress toward this album, progress that we have been severely lacking for the past couple of weeks. other than rejecting our ideas, what the hell have you been doing?" he raises his chin at the older boy in a provoking manner.

"han–" changbin starts but is quickly cut off by chan.

"what the hell have i been doing?" chan spits out the question, han nods, "i've been making sure all our releases since debut continue to surpass these standards–this upcoming album is no different. don't come into my studio questioning what the fuck i've been doing."

"hyung–" changbin tries again to no avail.

"maybe you should leave," chan hisses, and changbin's eyes widen, darting between the two other boys in the studio with fires in their eyes, "and come back when you have suggestions that aren't going to waste my fucking time."

"look, guys. hannie, channie hyung–" changbin is cut off again when han rises to his feet, jaw clenched as he stares down chan in front of him, eyes narrowed.

"fine. i'll leave," he declares, "this is a waste of my time. i'll come back when you've got your head out of your fucking ass and you're open to listening to anyone other than yourself."

chan spins back around in his chair, eyes rolling back in anger as he clenches his fists on the table. behind him, han is quickly packing up his laptop and notebook as changbin gulps, wracking his brain to think of who to attend to right now. when han stomps to the studio door, swinging it open and stomping out into the hall of the company building. changbin is quick to follow after him, leaving everything but his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket the whole time as he follows after han, shutting the door behind them, leaving chan to his own thoughts alone. he chooses to follow the younger boy to try to calm him down and ensure he's safe wherever he plans to run off to.

meanwhile, you're a couple moments away from the elevator reaching the same floor the three boys are on. your hands clasped in front of you as you keep an eye on the digital sign that changes with each floor, rocking back and forth on your heels to pass the time. you haven't seen your boyfriend in quite a while due to your conflicting schedules, work and life getting in the way of a relationship, but you were grateful for those moments in between the chaos where it was just steady love and happiness. you learned to cherish those small moments instead of grovelling over how much time you can't spend with your boyfriend–obviously you get sad once in a while when you're away from him but choose not to dwell on it. thankfully, tonight is one of those nights where you can spend your time in the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. but he has no idea that you were even planning on coming to the company building, he has no idea of this little surprise you've organized.

when the elevator dings, stopping at your floor, you exit quickly but you make your way down the hallway slowly. your head moving from left to right as you read the numbers on each door, ensuring you landed on the correct floor and were going in the right direction. when you hear footsteps and your eyes dart to changbin and han walking down the hall in your direction, a wave of relief washes over you until you catch a glimpse of the concern on changbin's face and the anger on han's. they notice you walking towards them belatedly, almost running into you, but you catch their attention before any collision.

"hey guys," you greet softly, concern written on your features at the sight of the two boys. eyes looking between changbin whose eyes are drooped with worry and han, who you can feel the anger radiating off of, "what's going on?"

they both exchange small greetings with you. given han's current state, his greetings are shorter and more reserved. his mouth shut and jaw clenched again once he's greeted you.

"creative differences," changbin says to which han scoffs, rolling his eyes, "ok well, that's how it started, but long story short, we got into an argument, and hannie walked out."

"we?"

changbin nods, "yeah, hannie, chan hyung and i."

your lips purse in a tight line when the second name rolls off changbin's tongue: "if you don't mind, could you explain what happened?"

not wanting to get into too much detail as changbin doesn't want further rile up the already upset han, he gives you a quick run down of the main points of the argument between the 3racha boys–mainly chan and han. you keep your mouth shut the whole time and nod, listening intently to changbin explain while han stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a prominent pout on his lips and his eyebrows knit together.

"you're on your way to see, channie hyung?" changbin asks for clarification and you nod, "okay, obviously after what i told you, he's in a really bad mood right now so proceed with caution. angry chan is scary chan."

you thank changbin for letting you know what happened from their perspective, bidding short goodbyes to both the boys as han and changbin decide to make their way back to the dorms. han needs some time to unwind and collect his thoughts after the spat with chan. you continue to walk down the hall, turning a corner and finding the room number that felix sent you earlier–103.

you knock on the door softly but hear nothing from the inside; you knock once again and hear nothing. you sigh and decide to turn the knob, letting yourself in.

chan heard the knocks; the first one sparked his annoyance, and the second continued to heighten it. the sound of the door being opened caused him to bark at whoever decided to come in when, through his silence, he clearly didn't grant the permission to.

"what the hell?" he mutters to himself before he barks out, turning in his chair, "complete silence after knocking is not an invitation to come in, fuckin–"

when chan fully turns in his chair to face the direction of the door, the words get caught in his throat at the sight of you. he assumed it might have been changbin, han or a staff member, but seeing you standing there took him by complete shock. you shut the door behind you and give chan a small wave that he reciprocates hesitantly, still trying to let it sink in that you're actually in the room with him and that he isn't hallucinating due to how long it's been since the last time he's seen his girlfriend in person. you move to sit on the couch that was once occupied by the two other 3racha members; now, one side is occupied by changbin's laptop and notebook while you sit on the opposite end. chan turns his chair, following your every move.

when you sit down, take the pillow and place it on your lap, you smile up at chan again, "hi."

"hey baby," chan speaks slowly, "what are you doing here?"

you hum before answering, "well, we haven't been able to see each other in a while cos of our schedules but some time opened up for me today, so i wanted to pay you a surprise visit."

chan feels his heart warm at the gesture, but he's still quite irritated and agitated from the argument with han and changbin. the lack of progress for the upcoming album, along with the plethora of expectations looming over his head and his patience begins to dwindle again.

"that's nice, but i don't really have time for this right now," chan's tone is stern, his voice deep in warning, "i've got so much shit to do for this upcoming album, and nothing is fucking–"

"can I sit on your lap?" you ask, cutting chan off and causing him to furrow his eyebrows together in a mix of confusion and irritation–irritated that you had cut him off but confused about whether he had heard you right.

"what?" he deadpans, blinking at you.

"can I sit on your lap?" you repeat, and now he knows he definitely didn't hear things.

"did you not hear what i said?" chan holds back from snarling at you in frustration. "nothing is done for the album, and i don't have time to take a break."

you nod, hearing his words but adding, "you can continue working. i just want to sit on your lap while you do."

chan opens his mouth to refuse, but his eyes lock with yours–your shiny, beautiful eyes with a perfect array of colours decorating the irises, gazing up at him with a splash of hope in the depths of love in your eyes. that's when his mouth snaps shut again, probably looking like a fish when it opens again, but this time he says:

"yeah? sure."

the bright smile that stretches on your face feels like a reward to chan. you make your way over, placing yourself on his lap while facing him; thankfully, chan's chair is big enough for you to practically straddle him in a comfortable position. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle yourself into his neck.

"you can go back to work now," you say, your voice muffled from the pressure of your lips against his skin.

chan can't help the lopsided smile that makes its way to his lips. he also can't help the way his whole body seems to relax with your touch; the longer he feels the warmth radiating off your body onto his, the more he feels the tension in his muscles deteriorating slowly. the feeling of your body pressed against his, his arms outstretched to continue typing or writing in his notebook, feels comforting.

moments pass when chan's room is quiet, and the occasional noise of chan typing on the keyboard, picking up or placing his pencil down to scratch down who knows what in his notebook. at the same time, you're still perched on his lap, your arms comfortably draped around him, and your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

chan isn't sure if the arguing with han and changbin or if the feeling of you in his arms sparked some ideas to come out of him and onto paper, but he would like to say both. despite the heated atmosphere and half-hearted words thrown around, he doesn't want to feel like that argument was completely unnecessary and a waste of time; instead, he wants to see it as a bump in the road that shows him how he can continue to improve as a friend, producer, bandmate and a person as a whole.

meanwhile, you're thinking about how comfortable you feel in the position your in right now, and how you could probably fall asleep at this moment. sure, maybe your back will hurt when you wake up, but right now, you feel your whole body relax in your boyfriend's arms. a couple moments later, your eyes are half open and you felt yourself falling asleep, but you jump a little in shock when you feel both of chan's hands sprawled on your back. his hands rub your back gently and comfortingly before he circles his arms around your body and pulls you closer. a deep sigh escaping his lips as he holds you, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds. chan turns his head, kissing the side of your head on your hair.

"thank you," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss as his hands rub circles on your back again.

you respond in a small, quiet and slightly sleepy voice, "for what?"

chan shrugs, "for this. being here."

you nod, pausing for a moment before you say, "i ran into changbin and han in the hall."

you feel your boyfriend tense up in your arms. you begin to reciprocate his comforting action as you trace circles on his back with the pads of your thumbs, his muscles relaxing under your gentle caresses. you continue to speak in a soft, timid manner that only chan can hear since your lips are so close to his ear.

"i know you're under a lot of stress and pressure preparing for the album," you begin, "i get that you're frustrated, but can you please not speak to me like that?"

the man feels his heart drop listening to your words. his mind rewinds back to when he heard the door opening, and how his first instinct was to bark and scold whoever came into the studio uninvited. chan remembers how you blinked and gave him a small smile, trying to hide your surprise, but it was evident in how your eyes widened the slightest bit for a split second before returning to normal.

you and chan sit in silence; he's dwelling on your words while you're still tracing circles into his back with your thumbs. chan wants to say that he didn't know you were the one coming into the studio, to use that as a defence, but he knows how weak that is–that regardless of who came into the room, he shouldn't have let his frustrations blow over, flipping out and greeting them by raising his voice. sure, his emotions were high, which is a factor in how he acted earlier, but he can't use that as an excuse to get away with snapping at people who have nothing to do with what he's emotional about.

you feel chan nod, and he says softly, "i'm sorry." you go to say that it's okay, but chan interrupts, "it's not, though. even if i didn't mean to speak to you that way, i still need to figure out how to regulate and control my emotions."

"you're human," you say, "when emotions are high, it's hard to find a way to keep them under control all the time. but the fact that you recognize your mistake–that's a lot more than many people can say."

chan pulls you even closer against him, if it's even possible, "i'll try my best though. i'll speak to you at a normal volume, respectfully and saying sweet things. that's what my girl deserves."

your cheeks heat up at the way chan calls you 'his girl'.

"thank you," chan repeats.

this time, you pull away, sitting up straight to look at chan's face, your eyes meeting his soft ones. his hands rub up and down your sides slowly, a slight smile on his lips. you cock your head in confusion, "for what?"

"you always know the right thing to say," chan moves one of his hands up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand on your cheek gently and the pad of his thumb swiping over the skin, "i love you."

you're blushing even harder now, "i love you too."

chan uses the hand on your cheek to guide your face so your lips meet his halfway for a sweet kiss. after quite a while, a smile breaks out on your face at the feeling of his soft pink and plump lips against yours. your hands move to hold either side of his neck, and the two of you spend the next couple of moments sharing tender kisses and giggles in between.

in the midst of all of the kisses, you and chan are gazing down at each other when he brushes your hair away again. this time, he opens his mouth to speak with flushed cheeks, "i'm starting to think han and his suggestions were right; it'll be better to build on something we already have and improve on it than to force ourselves to start from scratch and continue to hit a dead end."

you brush chan's hair out of his forehead, and he continues.

"my head was too far up my ass to consider his suggestion," chan purses his lips together, and his eyes flash with regret as he recalls the words thrown around between him and the younger producer earlier. chan lets himself linger in his head again before voicing his concerns, "do you think they'll forgive me?"

you nod.

"really? you're not just saying that?"

you nod again, and this time, you explain, "as long as you can identify and acknowledge where you went wrong and what you did wrong, and sincerely and genuinely apologize–which i know you feel sincerely and genuinely apologetic for–i believe they'll forgive you."

chan's eyelids flutter quickly as he thinks, nodding as he fully processes your words. still, a wave of nervousness washes over him at the possibility that han and changbin won't forgive him.

"they're your brothers," you snap him out of his thoughts, "brothers fight, but at the end of the day, they still love each other."

main masterlist

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 19

words: 3,8k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths. Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

notes: it’s been quite some time since I updated right? I feel bad for not posting new chapters, but life is kinda busy. Also some major events are about to happen on the next Birdie chapters and also I think there might be between 10-15 chapters left with everything I have planned. But don’t worry bc a new Gojo fic is coming soon!

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

You rolled down the window of Satoru's car and enjoyed the smell of the sea that began to fill your nostrils. You had left Tokyo early that day, so you could get to your destination on time. You had spent the previous night with Satoru so he wouldn't have to pick you up and you could go straight from his apartment.

The traffic wasn't too heavy and your journey was becoming pleasant, while the GPS's voice told Satoru which routes he should take to get there. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be invaded by the sensations, enjoying the warm day at the end of May and the smell of salt water.

“We will be there in 20 minutes.” Satoru broke the silence inside the car, you looked at him and hummed in response. “You mentioned you were raised here right? What was it like?”

“It was…” You started thinking.

Memories of your childhood and teenage years came to you, the hot summers where you went to the beach with your grandmother, the ice creams before returning home. Those distant and almost erased memories with your mother, which you remembered with love and affection.

But not all of them were good memories, because you also remembered the glances, the whispers of people watching you walk and how everything became stronger and stronger with the passing of the years. And you still feel in your bones the worst memory you have of that place, one that you wanted to bury with all your might at the bottom of the sea.

That was why perhaps you wanted to bring the people you loved to that place, because you wanted to flood it with happy and beautiful memories.

“Good…” You simply said. “I can’t wait to show you around.” You smiled at him and he gave you a brief look before smiling back at you.

The car felt silent once again and a feeling started to grow on your chest. As much as you wanted to hide it, you were tense and anxious over that trip, not because Satoru was going there but because of what happened last year.

It made you sick to your stomach and you didn’t want to go through it again. You didn’t want Satoru to met him. To meet your father. You wanted to show Satoru so many things, but the idea of ​​walking and running into him made your hair stand on end.

Your memory drifted to one year ago, when you went with Kyoko.

1 year ago

“Should we buy some ice creams before going back to the motel?” Kyoko suggested as both of you were packing the towels.

“Sounds good.” You said as you closed your bag.

You started walking, Kyoko walking beside you. The two of you chatted animatedly as the hot summer sun hit your skins. You had gotten a few days off and you had decided to spend them with your best friend, in a place that you held dear to your heart. But Kyoko was someone important and deserved to get to know you better.

You walked to the ice cream stand near the beach when you heard a deep voice calling your name. At first, you didn't notice, but a shiver ran through you when you realized who it was, who the owner of that voice was.

You turned slightly and felt a sharp pain in your head, painful enough to make you close your eyes and bring one of your hands to your head.

Kyoko called you out. “Are you okay?” She said with worry.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” But your name came out of his throat once again.

“You okay?”

You snorted and stood up. “What do you want?” You said as dryly as possible, without showing an ounce of emotion.

“I… I saw you and I wanted to check on you.”

You tried not to laugh. “Well, don’t do it.” You turned around and looked at him again. “Come closer again and I’ll call the police, you have a restraining order. Remember it.”

He called you out again. “What happened back then… was a terrible mistake and I’m sorry.” He said and you closed your eyes, trying to shut everything down. “I was desperate for money and I thought…”

“You thought going back to the daughter you abandoned, who was completely alone and take away all her money when she was just 17, was okay?!” You shouted, Kyoko took your hand, trying to calm you down. “And on top of that…” You turned around and looked at him. “You already forgot what you took from me?!”

You looked at him with tears rolling down your face and feeling the curious eyes of everyone around.

Present day

“Birdie…” You felt a small touch on your cheek and the present hit you again.

Your eyes met his, he was looking at you. Like always. But his gaze reflected his worried look. You tried to smile, despite feeling shaken by the memories that just hit your head.

“You okay?” He whispered softly. “You seemed to be drifting away.”

You shook your head and slowly blinked. “Yeah… it was nothing.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Good… we arrived at the hotel…”

You looked outside and yeah, you were there. The door opened and Satoru’s hand appeared in front of you, surprising you on how fast he got himself out of the car.

Satoru took your hand and walked before you and was the one that took care of everything at the hotel. You tried to be there, but honestly your mind felt like it was somewhere else. You found it difficult to concentrate. You had assured Kyoko that your escape would be peaceful, but at that moment your mind was failing you again, filling up with ideas or scenarios that could happen.

Satoru's warm hand gave you a security that you needed but still wasn't enough in that moment of internal despair. You didn’t want to ruin things, no when that was your first time going out as a couple, so you simply put the best of your smiles. And fake it.

Hoping for Satoru not to catch you up on your lie, you made yourselves busy.

“Let’s go to visit the temple that it’s here.” You said with enthusiasm.

You and Satoru walked through the streets that had once been very familiar to you, where you had laughed, cried and been angry. Every corner hid a memory that seemed distant now but that made you smile when you remembered it.

Your feet stopped moving as your body reacted to the place you were in. Satoru turned around, still holding your hand as he watched you.

“Is something wrong?” He murmured as he approached you.

“This was the family home.” You said wistfully. “It still looks the same.”

Satoru didn’t need to do more to put his arms around you. He had noticed your vulnerability in your voice, the sadness that accompanied you as you remembered the place where you grew up, where you lived with your mother, with your grandmother.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be embraced by Satoru’s arms and warm, and trying to calm down your shaken heart.

A little calmer, Satoru took your hand and led you through the streets, as if he already knew them. Before turning the corner you took one last look at what was once your home.

Satoru Gojo pov

Satoru would occasionally turn his head to look at you, your gaze still a bit lost and his heart was in his chest at the sight of that look, he wanted your eyes to smile and shine again. The smell of the sea filled his nostrils and a smile formed on his face when he remembered the day he asked you out.

“Birdie…” He whispered, causing your eyes to meet his. “Shall we go to the beach?”

“But… we didn’t bring our bathing suits, they’re at the hotel.” You said. Satoru smiled.

“I want to walk with you along the shore again like that time…” Your face lit up and began to blush. “Is that look a yes?” You nodded and Satoru laughed and pulled you towards the beach.

The sand burned your feet but that didn't stop Satoru from pulling you closer to the sand. Satoru hadn't wanted to ask you, but he had noticed that even though you had tried to hide it, something was still on your mind and it was something that didn't let you be calm. He wanted whatever was on your mind to disappear and for you to enjoy your moments together.

Satoru enjoyed your laughter as he splashed water on you and watched your face light up. What could he do to keep that smile with him forever? He wanted to cherish that smile, you, what you had, everything.

“‘Toru! Stop!” You laughed.

“Why? It’s funny.” He said with his dimples popping out. “Look at you… so cute.” He hugged you. “My pretty birdie.” He said closing the distance between your faces and kissing your lips.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. “When are you going to tell me why you call me like that?”

“Like what?” Satoru started to play dumb.

“You know what, don’t be silly.”

“Maybe one day…” Satoru kissed your cheek. “But now, let’s have fun okay?”

You continued playing on the beach for a while longer. Satoru kept making you laugh as he splashed you with salt water, not wanting that smile on your face to fade away. When the sun began to shine brightly in the sky, you decided to go to a bar on the coast to eat something and rest.

The bar was small but cozy, with wooden tables and chairs scattered across the sand, offering a perfect view of the ocean. The scent of grilled seafood filled the air as you and Satoru found a spot near the water. The sea breeze felt refreshing against your sun-kissed skin.

“Wait here, alright?” He said standing back up.

“My cocktail, order it with extra ice.” You said and Satoru nodded like an obedient puppy.

You waited on the terrace looking at the sea. The sea breeze moved your hair, which had become slightly wavy due to your entertaining session of playing in the sea. He bit his cheek and looked away from your figure to order your drinks.

“Excuse me?” Satoru heard someone approaching him.

“Yeah?” He looked at the person talking, it was a 50 years old man. “Do I know you?” Satoru asked him.

“No, no, we don’t know each other.” The man said and Satoru could notice his nervous posture and how his eyes moved from one side to the other. “I saw you arrive with that girl over there.” Satoru tensed as the man pointed his finger at you. “And I was wondering if…”

“Who are you?” Satoru asked with a frown.

“Oh… I… I am that girl’s dad.” Satoru clenched his fist.

Your father? Was that the bastard who left your mother when he found out she was pregnant? Satoru took a deep breath, not wanting to rush into anything.

“I was wondering if it would be possible to talk to her…”

“No.” Satoru cut him off.

Satoru’s eyes scanned that man and he noticed how disheveled he was and Satoru couldn't ignore the smell of alcohol that emanated from all over him.

“Why?” Satoru asked, with a cold look, his blue eyes had been replaced by a dark color. A look that made anyone tremble.

“Well she is my daughter and…”

“Answer me and don’t lie to me.” Satoru watched as the man swallowed and wiped his hands against his old pants.

Pathetic.

“I need money okay?” The man blurted. “I know she has savings from her mother and…”

“Enough.” Satoru said. “You want money? That’s the only reason you want to talk to your daughter?” The man felt silent and a laughter escaped Gojo’s lips. “You truly are a disgusting piece of shit.”

“Hey…” But as soon as he saw Satoru’s face, words stood hanging in the air.

Satoru glanced in your direction for a moment, you were concentrating on taking pictures of the view from where you sat, and then his eyes fell back on the man. It was hard to believe that you had his blood on you.

Satoru took the man by the arm and led him to a more secluded spot, one where you wouldn't see them. “Don’t you ever come near her again,” Satoru whispered. “I’ll give you 1,500,000 yen, but if you show your filthy face in front of her again, I’ll see that you end up in prison. Do you understand?” The man gulped and nodded. “Oh, and one more thing, get away from this prefecture and Tokyo, you understand?”

Satoru wasn’t usually this kind of person, making threats. But he knew enough about you and your family to know that you probably wouldn’t want to meet this man, or have him anywhere near you.

The man nodded and wrote down his phone number on a crumpled napkin, which Satoru reluctantly put in his pocket. Before another threat could leave his lips, the man who called himself your father was gone.

Satoru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he really hoped that once that person received the money he would never stand in front of you again. You didn't deserve someone like that with you.

With the tension still on his shoulders, Satoru faked a smile and walked out with your drinks to the terrace where you were waiting for him with that warm look he had discovered.

“Here…” He left your drink in front of you.

“Thank you. It took you time, what happened?”

Satoru didn’t like to lie, not to you at least. “Oh just, just a man making a show.” He cracked a smile.

“Oh…” You nodded and drank a bit of your cocktail. “Oh god!” You closed your eyes. “It’s so sweet.”

“Really?” Satoru asked.

“Yeah… do you wanna taste it?”

“Not really, I’m not a fan of alcohol and besides I’m taking you somewhere later.” He smiled cockily.

You opened your eyes with surprise. “You taking me somewhere?”

“Yeah… I did my research before coming and found a place we could go to see the sunset.” Satoru looked at your eyes and he saw how they started to glow.

“That’s fantastic Satoru.” You smiled.

Satoru smiled back and took a sip of his drink, but his shoulders still felt tense. His gaze occasionally drifted towards the entrance of the bar, a trace of worry in his eyes. He was trying to enjoy the moment, but the thought of your father showing up unexpectedly again and this time you seeing him, was a constant undercurrent of anxiety.

Noticing his uneasiness you decided to address it. “You seem a little strange. Everything okay?”

Satoru managed a casual smile. “Oh yeah, I was just thinking about how unpredictable things can be. But don’t worry about it. I’m here to have a good time with you.”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, let’s focus on having a good time. We have the whole afternoon ahead of us and then you’ll take me to that place right?” You gave him a smile.

With a nod, Satoru took a deep breath and tried to relax. The conversation turned to lighter and more pleasant topics as they both continued to eat and enjoy the beautiful view. Despite the lingering tension, you both managed to savor the day and found comfort in each other's company.

As the two of you continued to enjoy your meal, the atmosphere around you began to feel more relaxed. The sunlight danced across the water, casting a warm glow over everything. Satoru watched your face, which was illuminated by the reflection of the ocean, and took in every feature of yours, admiring how beautiful you were. You and Satoru laughed as you shared stories and chatted happily, the tension from earlier slowly fading from your shoulders.

Satoru could see how the sadness that had been over your eyes that morning had disappeared and now there was only brightness.

The lively atmosphere of the bar added to the feeling of tranquility. Other customers were chatting and enjoying their meals, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses mixed with the rhythm of the waves.

“You know.” Satoru said, leaning back with a contented sigh. “I’m really glad we did this. It’s been a while since I felt this carefree and relaxed.”

You smiled and reached across the table to touch his hand. “Me too.” You patted his hand and he returned the gesture. “You may not want to talk… but what about your parents?” Satoru felt a small pang in his heart and shook his white hair.

“I haven’t talked with them since the party…” Satoru shrugged. “They haven’t called, I haven’t called…” He quickly noticed your gaze. “If you are worried about what happened… don’t worry, I talked with my grandmother and she was worried when she heard what happened, apparently most people at the party started blaming Naoya and days later anonymously someone posted an article on a famous magazine talking about the behavior of one of the Zenin clans younger members…”

“You…?” You gasped with surprise.

“Not me.” He smirked. “You should invite Utahime to drink some beers once we are back.”

“Utahime?” You opened your eyes.

“Yeah, her parents are the owners of the magazine and so she made them put the article… the Iori family doesn’t like the Zenin family too much, so this was their best opportunity.” Satoru explained.

“Wow!” You said with surprise. “So… is it true what they said?” You asked. “That the elite can bring people down if they want to?”

“I guess it is… it’s nasty and dangerous because it could come back to you, but these families have been doing it for years now and they won’t change.” Satoru explained. “But let’s stop talking about them… the sun is almost down so we have to hurry up.” Satoru held your hand.

The two of you walked to Satoru’s car and headed towards your destination. The sun continued to set, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and violet, its warm light reflecting off the sea and casting a golden glow over everything. Satoru’s hands gripped the steering wheel as his eyes remained focused on the road, following the silent instructions of the GPS. You glanced at him from time to time, sensing that something about this trip was important to him.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or will it remain a surprise?” You asked, smiling softly.

Satoru smiled, but kept his gaze straight ahead. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see soon enough. I promise it’s worth it.”

The car moved smoothly along the coast, the sound of the waves fading as the road curved inland. With the setting sun casting long shadows across the landscape, everything outside the window seemed to slow down, creating an almost dream-like feeling.

After a while, Satoru’s expression softened. His earlier tension seemed to fade as the familiar sight of the destination came into view. The GPS announced the final turn and you felt the car slow down as you entered a quiet, secluded area surrounded by lush greenery and hills.

Satoru parked the car and turned off the engine. He looked at you, his smile now gentle and sincere. “It’s okay, we’re here.”

You got out of the car, feeling the cool evening breeze on your skin. As you looked around, you noticed a small path leading up a hill. Without saying much, Satoru took your hand and began to lead you along it.

At the top of the hill, a stunning view unfolded before you. The sea stretched endlessly into the distance, the sky now painted in soft pinks and purples. Below, a hidden cove shimmered, its shore empty and quiet. The only sounds were the distant songs of birds and the soft rustle of leaves.

“Satoru…” You murmured, amazed by the view your eyes were seeing. “How? How did you find this place?” You turned to look at him, who was proudly smiling.

Satoru exhaled, feeling proud of himself. “I’m glad you like it. I spent hours online trying to find a place like this.” He joked with a smile.

You turned to him, surprised. “You found this online?”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… Did some digging to find something special near your hometown. Wanted it to feel… personal.”

Your heart warmed at the thought of him spending time looking for such a hidden gem, just to create a moment like this for you. “Satoru, this is... amazing. You didn’t have to….”

He smiled, and softly touched your cheek."You’re worth it…”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop rotating. The gentle breeze, the distant sound of the ocean, and the soft light of the evening all came together to make the moment feel timeless.

“I love you…” He let out his soft yet emotion-filled voice. Your heart raced, feeling like it could explode in your chest. “And I want to cherish you.” He continued, his hand gently brushing yours. “Protect you, be someone you can always count on. I know I’m not perfect, but when I’m with you… I want to be better. For you.”

A gasp escaped your lips and your hands went up to his face. Satoru’s eyes were watery and even if Satoru wanted to hide it he couldn’t. “What’s wrong ‘Toru?” You called him by that affectionate nickname.

Satoru sighed deeply, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Should he tell you? Or just let it go? After all, this was something that involved you directly, something that affected you deeply. But he didn’t want to burden you with it either, he didn’t want to drag negative emotions into this perfect night you were sharing. You seemed so happy, so at peace, and the last thing he wanted was to tarnish that with something painful.

Yet at the same time, the idea of ​​keeping something from you didn’t sit well with him. Satoru had always promised himself that he would never hide anything from you, that he would never keep secrets that could build walls between you. He wanted to be open with you about everything, no matter how hard it might be.

You noticed his internal struggle, the way his gaze seemed distant, his body tense beside you. “Satoru?” You asked softly, your thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of his hand. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

He swallowed hard, feeling the sincerity in your voice, the trust between the two of you. And that was what made him make the decision: trust. He couldn't break that, not even to spare you the awkwardness. You deserved the truth, even if it was hard to hear.

“At the bar, a man approached me…” Satoru held your hands tightly as he began with his blue eyes fixed on yours.

— if you want to be tagged on the chapters, comment

🏷️: @lavender-hvze , @crybabytoru , @sanriosatoru , @norvacaine , @sadmonke , @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @anniegojo , @milk3evee , @crunchypotatoooooooooo , @catobsessedlady , @zoeyflower , @starlostwish , @tinydonkeysforlife , @mimisq11341 , @n1vi , @olanii1019 , @vtrulvamp , @yjuisu

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

WYD💬2

Part 1 |

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: A fan makes an offer your can’t refuse.

(based on suggestion he’s been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your stomach writhes like worms in the dirt. You sit in the back of the uber, uneager to be at your destination. The driver asks if it’s a special occasion and you just sort of mutter. You look down at yourself; you’re sure dressed for something special.

It’s plain enough. A classic little black dress. Thick straps and a simple silhouette. Still, it’s tighter than you’re used to. You dressed it up with a slender silver chain that holds a heart charm and a velvet clutch. Your usual cotton and wool pale in comparison.

You watch on the GPS as the car moves closer and closer to the endpoint. You take out your phone and check the messages. You can barely read any of it as your hands jitter.

You’re being stupid. This is dangerous and stupid. You can’t meet a stranger. Even if he did pay you to do so. Even if you really need the money. You should just send it back.

‘Reservation for Barnes. The hostess will seat you.’

He sent that about an hour ago. His anticipation has only been met by your silent dread and dulcet agreement. It’s one thing to post photos online, faceless at that, but to meet a man like this. This is more than just posing and primping for a camera.

You thank the driver as he pulls up to the restaurant. You get out reluctantly and linger along the curb, tipping the uber as an excuse to take your time. You look up at the dusky facade and gulp. The cursive moniker assures you of your displacement. 

You take a breath and cross the broad sidewalk. You dodge out of the way of another couple entering the restaurant. You don’t follow them as you hover outside. There were at least a few decades between the pair; what is this place?

You hug your wrap tight and teeter on your heels as you try to see through the tinted windows. You need to scare yourself out of this. You get one look at this guy and you’re gone. You’re running the other direction. Only then will it really be real. Only then will you get a bit of sense in you. 

“Just in time, doll,” a deep voice crawls up your spine and you gasp as you twist around to face the speaker. 

Your ankle bends dangerously as your heel catches in the pavement. You bat your lashes up at the stranger; it’s him. He’s even more handsome in person. It almost takes your breath away.

“Uh, hi,” you murmur. Your escape is foiled. Your second doubts are crushed in that instant. You don’t have the courage to walk away. If he’d never seen you, you could've easily scurried back to your hole and deleted everything. “Mr. Barnes?”

He laughs. His smile is deadly. He puts his hand on your arm, bold but casual.

“Bucky,” he offers, “come on,” he checks the watch on his other wrist, “we’re late.”

He nudges you towards the door, bringing his hand down to hover along your lower back. You walk forward numbly. You don’t know what else to do but go with it.

He opens the door and ushers you ahead of him. The hostess greets him as ‘Mr. Barnes’ and is prompt to lead you through the dim lounge. A round booth awaits you near the back of the restaurant.

The hostess takes your wrap and you place your clutch on the seat as you settle onto the curved cushion. Bucky sits and orders a bottle of Shiraz. You fight to keep your shoulders up, trying to wilt in the luxury of the place. You’re an assistant librarian, what are you doing here?

He slides to the back of the booth, reaching over to wrap his hand lightly around your wrist. He tugs until you reticently shimmy closer. You keep your eyes on the table, fumbling with the wrapped silverware.

“Nervous,” he says. You nod and still the cutlery. “Me too.”

You’re surprised by his confession. He must do this all the time. He’s rich and handsome and oh, how stupid you really are. Of course you’re just another in the long line. 

You look up at him, flinching as you find him watching you. You wonder if your lipstick is patchy or if you smeared your eye liner again. You bring your hands back into your lap and wring them.

You notice the gray patch among the short stubble along his jaw, a few more strands of silver laced around his temples. His hair is smoothed back but the longer strands threaten to fall forward. He lifts his arm coolly and rests it on the seat behind you. He smells amazing.

“I…” you begin. “I think I made a mistake.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but otherwise, he does not react.

“How do you know? You haven’t even made the mistake yet,” his hand drifts down to tickle your shoulder, “one glass of wine. How about that? You have one glass before we order, then you can decide.”

“I… I’m not what you think I am,” you utter.

“Doll, you’re exactly what I want,” he winks just before he turns away, another dashing smile sent to the waitress as she arrives with the wine.

One drink. You can do that.

[lautski-week]

Lautski Nation, we are so back!

(Q&A + general info under cut!)

Welcome to the third semiannual Lautski week. This event occurs twice a year, once in the summer and once in the winter, to commemorate the shared love so many of us have for Hatchetfield High's most unlikely it couple! Mod is @peterstankoffski and uses they/them pronouns, and you've probably seen me lurking around the lautski tag since it was created. It's been a lovely little 2.5 years getting to enjoy this ship with everyone.

This year the summer event will be in July instead of May so everyone who is interested has plenty of time to prepare. I understand now through June is fairly bust for many people due to finals, so moving it later into the summer was definitely for the best (thank you to everyone who voted in the dates tiebreaker poll the other day!)

And with that, some FAQ!

Q: What are alternates?

A: Alternates are two extra prompts in case one of them leaves you stumped! They can be used any day, or they can not be used at all! It’s up to each individual participant!

Q: Do I have to do all seven days?

A: You’re free to do as many as you want! You can do all seven, you can do just a few, hell, you could do all nine in you wanted! This isn’t a challenge, it’s an event. The main goal is to make some posts about this ship we’re all brainrotting for and having fun.

Q: What can I make?

A: Anything you want! Art, fics, edits, memes, etc. Nothing’s off the table.

Q: How do I post?

A: I’ll reblog anything made for the event to this blog and my main. If you’d like to be featured, please @ THIS blog. Additionally, I’d recommend tagging works with #lautski week so everyone’s works can all be found in the same place.

Q: I was late! Can I still post?

A: Of course! I’ll keep reblogging new posts tagged #lautski week and/or mention this blog through July 17!

Q: Can I post to AO3, then link it back here?

A: Feel free! This year I will also be setting up a Lautski Week collection, which I will link on the blog closer to time. Feel free to use it!

Q: Can I post to (insert any other fanfic site here) then link it back here?

A: Same as AO3. Go ahead!

Q: One of my wips fits *insert prompt here!* Can I post it for that day?

A: You can, but please don’t post before the event begins!

Q: Am I allowed to write smut?

A: Yes, but please have it properly tagged on both tumblr and AO3. On this blog, I will use the additional tag "smut warning"

That's it for now! I'll reblog this occasionally between now and July, plus advertising and answering any additional questions, but other than that, enjoy the rest of your spring (if you're in the Northern Hemisphere anyway)! See you all again soon 💜

[carlos-in-glasses]

I'm having some thoughts and feelings, for reasons.

The feelings are that I'm so grateful for this beautiful fandom and the beautiful couple in the picture above. The thoughts are beneath the read more and can be taken or left. The picture cannot be left, however. Taken is the only option. You need to see it because look how cute they are!

For prosperity:

Something I always 'explore', if you will, in my own writing is how people process the concept of time. Endings, beginnings, the past and the future linking up. Your past self always being with you like a spectre. The present feeling like a marble rolling around a tube... I think this is because I'm not good with change or saying goodbye, but I do know that endings always lead to something else. Which is scary, because you don't necessarily know what that will bring.

Thinking about all of the above in terms of Lone Star is a different beast for me personally, because I've never had this kind of experience with a show or characters before, where I'm so compelled by it that I found my way into the fandom and have been creatively stimulated to the point of writing 25+ fics for it (which isn't nearly as many as others have produced! But to me it feels significant). So for that reason I want to say: When the show ends -(WHENEVER THAT MAY BE) - the characters don't. They don't end, not really. As long as we choose to keep talking about the themes, sharing meta posts, writing them or drawing them or creating gif sets, and revisiting them in rewatches or YouTube clips - there they are. Always. Either suspended in their moment and so easy to revisit in all their glory, or put in new situations in fic and art even years into the future. If this hiatus has taught us anything, it's that even without the show on air, there are still plenty of stories to tell and interpretations to be had, based on what came before. When the show ends, the thing that will unfortunately go is the speculation aspect, but what we have instead is a beautiful completed work that can inspire and be meaningful forever to those who already love it and for those who will find it in the future - and it will be found. Anything that exists can be found. (See: deep sea fish that glow in the dark (!)). And things that don't exist can be imagined.

We're so lucky to be the ones in the know when it comes to the show and to Tarlos. We know how special it is, what a gift it is. I'm not a spiritual person but I do feel oddly spiritual when it comes to this. Idk.

Something I've always hoped (as I'm sure we all have) is that we would know ahead of time that it's over. The show not being renewed between seasons is a thought that horrifies me to my core. I remember thinking towards the end of season 4: "At least if it doesn't get renewed, it ends with Tarlos being canon-married." Which, as a Tarlos super-fan, was my no.1. concern, but I love and care about the other characters too of course.

Going into season 5 and fearing it could be the last season, I had a huge tummy ache wondering if Tarlos would be on the rocks. If they ended on a cliffhanger having assumed season 6 was on the cards, we'd never get a resolution. But Rafa's Cameos have really eased my mind in that regard. Based not only on the tiny amount he's given away, but the way he talks about them loving each other, it sounds like they're going to be okay - and we're going to see it for ourselves that Tarlos really is endgame. In a time when hope is needed, we do have this. AND we have each other! As long as Tarlos ends happy, I for one intend to keep dancing, even if it means I'm the eccentric up on the table on my own doing the robot. But I would always like others to dance with.

Whatever happens, which we don't officially know yet, we can get through it together.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 1

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Period Era Sexism

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first fic in over a year, but I dont know I just wanted to have fun! Also lets be real... i needed these ideas out of my head. Please enjoy, have fun! Have an amazing rest of your day! Hi everyone!!! So this became a multi chapter story! This has been so much fun and I am so excited to see where this story goes! If you are interested in continuing this story, go to my tags and click ‘Interviews for New Beginnings’ there all parts will be together! Eventually I’ll put together a master list for it! Love you guys so much, I’m so glad you guys are having fun!!

You had heard about this job from your cousin Eli. And maybe that should’ve been the first clue that perhaps this may not have been a completely legal or safe or upstanding or above the table or whatever good adjective your parents could come up with position. But you had told Eli that you needed a job! And he did find you one! And your parents should be overjoyed that you will be working in the same “bakery” as a male cousin. It’s not proper for a woman to be working without a family member’s presence… especially where there are other men in the office.

“When you go in there be sure to look strong, but not too strong, emphasize that you’re docile and you want to please him.” Eli had been quizzing you about your skill sets and how you were to behave in the interview the entire walk to “The Bakery”. And while Eli was so sweet and more of a brother than a cousin… you couldn’t keep your irritation at bay.

“Tell me Eli… am I interviewing for the position of personal secretary or personal wh-“

“And don’t be so quick with that mouth of yours! Listen… Mr. Solomons is one of the most important men in Camden. This could be a really big opportunity for you. Being the personal secretary of one of the biggest names in the city can give you a steady income and some real independence! But that means you can’t be so…”

“Myself?” You say with a cocked brow and a bumped hip.

Eli’s eyes lit up as if a child he had been teaching finally understood arithmetic, “yes! Yes exactly! Listen while you’re in front of Mr. Solomons, it’s ‘yes sir’ and no questions asked. Got it?”

You sigh and roll your eyes. It felt like you had had this conversation so many times in different ways. Why did your parents care to educate you so much if you weren’t allowed to use your mind? You had asked your father many times, if God gave you a mouth and brain, why shouldn’t you be allowed to use them? And he was never really able to answer beyond a couple phrases talking about the ‘role of women’. You had just been fired from a doctor’s office due to talking back to an unruly patient. Truthfully, this was your last shot to get real independence. It was either this job… or letting your parents begin the process of finding a husband.

You finally reach the door of the bakery, and Eli turns you toward him to fix your hair and straighten your sweater, “Ok ok. Here we are dearest. Now just follow me, don’t make eye contact with everyone and just… be good.”

You chuckle out a, “Yes mum.”

With a laugh he shoves your arm, and gives his name to the young man standing by the door. With a nod he opens the door and lets you in, quickly following Eli’s steps.

While Eli said you couldn’t make eye contact with anyone he never said you couldn’t look at the bakery. It didn’t take you long to notice that while all the men were wearing aprons… there was a distinct lack of… bread… or anything to do with bread. Soon after this you began to feel that memorable tickle in your nose. Rum you thought to yourself. With a smirk you ran up behind Eli and whispered, “Wow quite the bakery Eli. Does the family know about your little rum house job?”

His face was pale, and he was clearly in no mood to joke. With a huff you returned to your previous pace, and you see that the office is just ahead.

Suddenly you feel the flush in your neck, and begin to steel yourself. You had of course heard about Mr. Alfred Solomons. The King of Camden. The Brave War Captain turned Ruthless Gangster. Eli was not kidding when he said that Mr. Solomons was one of the most important people in the city. He ruled the community. This was not the time and place for your mouth to act up. This was the time to behave and play it safe.

Eli rapped the door of the private office gently, and was met with a gruff, "What now!?"

Eli with a shaking hand opened the door, "Mr. Solomons? It's me Eli I..."

"What the fuck do you want eh? Come on now yeah you interrupt me and just stand there acting like you've been struck dumb by God. Come on!!"

Eli kept stammering, basically useless, so you stepped up, "Mr. Solomons, I'm Eli's cousin. I'm here for the secretary position."

Mr. Solomons eyebrows furrowed, looking you up and down. You couldn't help but feel like a child in front of his stare. Fiery, discerning, and just plain terrifying. "You said you're here for what?"

"The secretary position. My cousin said you were in need of a secretary."

Mr. Solomons looked at Eli and looked at you, "And you think you're qualified for a secretary position?"

The heat in your chest started to grow. And you could feel your temper begging to be let out. But you had to make a good impression. You needed this job. You needed to be sweet and to behave.

You nodded, "Yes sir, I can assure you I am I-"

"I'm sorry treacle but this simply will not do." Mr. Solomons cut you off. "What I am doing here right? I'm running a legitimate business. I am running something very difficult that little girls like you simply could not deal with yeah? Now run along and go do whatever young girls do yeah?"

"Mr. Solomons I-"

"Treacle now you're making me a little frustrated right, I said run along now."

You could feel the heat rising and rising, and Eli tugging at your sleeve, "Mr. Solomons if you will just listen-"

Mr. Solomons rose from his desk, "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE I SAID LEAVE."

"I AM YOUR NEW SECRETARY DAMNIT."

The room went silent. The entire bakery went silent. And from the corner of your eye you can see different men pausing, waiting to see what would happen next.

Alfred Solomons, for the first time in his life, was left speechless. The last woman who had yelled at him was his mother. Usually, women run and hide from him upon the first interaction. Men have wet themselves from his bellowing. Yet... this little woman is standing here, screaming at him, demanding to be heard. He did not know what to do, he could only stare at her.

You tried to be good. You really did try! But it was too late now. Mr. Solomons was just staring at you, and you had a point to make.

"Mr. Solomons, I am the most capable secretary that you will ever have walk through these doors. I am fluent in Russian, Yiddish, Hebrew, and French. Not only can I read and write, I was the best in my class in maths. I am a damn good baker, though clearly you do not need my services there. I am incredibly punctual and polite and am able to talk to anyone. And to top it all off, I make a very good cup of tea. Now I put on my best dress and shoes and I walked 45 minutes to get to your ridiculous office and I will be damned if I will leave here without a job! Do I have your attention now sir?"

While you were speaking Alfred Solomons had slowly lowered himself into his seat, with a smile on his face. He was stroking his beard, considering your fiery eyes, and the shape of your lips while you yelled at him. He began to laugh to himself, "Come sit down treacle. Eli, get the fuck out, stand by the door."

You turned to look at your cousin, but he had already closed the door behind him. You walked to the desk where Mr. Solomons was sitting, and took a seat directly in front of him. Where he had been leaning back in his chair, he was now leaning forward on the desk, resting on his elbows on top of a thick layer of papers. His eyes twinkled, and a handsome smirk played on his lips. Your rage was still simmering, and it was hating you for staring at those eyes.

"You can read and write?"

"Yes."

"How fast can you type?"

"80 words per minute."

"You're good at math?"

"You want to put a slate in front of me and have me recite a King's speech as well Mr. Solomons?"

He barked out a laugh, "Fuck me. You've got a sharp tongue on you don't you?"

"I have language why not use it."

"Fucking hell...alright listen here you little viper. I want you here every morning at 8 o'clock. Ready to work. You will have many a late night in this job. You will be my personal secretary, which means when I say "come here", I better see you before I finish that sentence. You'll need to write letters for me as well as manage my meetings alright? You will be my shadow. Any questions?"

"What is my salary?"

He paused, staring at you, seemingly trying to see how low you would take, "4 pounds a week."

"6"

"Good Lord what do you need 6 pounds a week for? 4 and a half and thats generous."

"Mr. Solomons I'm not stupid I know what you do. You need me. You want to become a respectable businessman you need someone like me to make sure your affairs are in order. I know you are working with many different people, and you need my abilities. I am the best you will ever have. 5 and a half."

Alfred keeps stroking his beard...wondering how the hell Eli could be related to someone so strong... and how much it was going to cost to keep you, "5 pounds a week. And I will give you a Hanukkah bonus."

"...And Rosh Hoshannah off."

"Done."

You stood to shake his hand, firmly, though he kept smirking as he shook yours. "Alright my little viper, I will see you tomorrow. Bring ink and a notebook. We start at 8."

"Thank you Mr. Solomons. You won't regret this!"

"Alfie. You will call me Alfie from now on."

The way he said it while staring into your eyes brought a heat to your cheeks, and you prayed that he couldn't see any change in your demeanor. "Alfie." You whispered as you nodded and walked away.

He couldn't help but linger there in that moment, watching you walk away, speaking animatedly with Eli. Never had he ever felt so... struck by a woman before. He had women before of course, but no woman had captivated him the way you just did. He needed you. He needed you with him, in any way that you allowed him to have you near. Maybe this was a mistake, but he highly doubted it. How could a mistake be so beautiful?

"OLLIE!" He yelled, "WE NEED A DESK AND CHAIR NOW!"

[lottie1824]

i wish you would write a fic on….landoscar rivals in a championship battle

or

i wish you would write a fic on…bearnelli at ferrari and mercedes being the second drivers and working together to get through the emotional pressures

Ask Game:

Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit)

Hello Anon, thanks for the ask 🧡 I hope you like what I came up with and if anyone wants to take the ideas and run with them then go ahead

Landoscar championship battle:

I'm going to give my thoughts first of all on the scenario. There would be angst and miscommunication. It would be a fierce battle on track between them both with the potential to have a couple of clashes and when they realise that they are in a championship battle together, Oscar sensibly suggests that they should put their relationship on hold for the time being. Something happens in the middle of the season where one of them has what looks like a bad crash (like Lando's Vegas one last year) and they realise that actually the championship isn't more important than what they had started to build off the track.

"You can't just make a move like that down the inside!" Lando yelled, furious ever since his boyfriend, could he still call Oscar his boyfriend, had crashed them both out of the race.

"Lando," Oscar responded calmly, refusing to let any anger that he may feel, bubble out of him. "The door was open for me, I had all the right to attempt that move. It was only once that I was fully alongside you that you closed the door. I know that your frustrated but yelling at me isn't gonna get you anywhere?"

"Of course you have to try and take the moral high ground," Lando all but spat. "Always trying to be the goody two shoes. Doesn't always translate to on track unfortunately."

Oscar forced himself to take a deep breath to try and hold the tears at bay that were threatening to slip out. He knew that Lando was frustrated at them both and unfortunately had the tendency to take out his frustrations on something. Usually it was a pillow or something similar however this time it seemed that Oscar was the target. Even though he tried not to show it, Lando's words were hurting him.

"I think we should take a break," Oscar said quietly. "From our relationship. That and the title fight clearly can't work alongside each other so we should break it off until the end of the season."

With that, Oscar all but ran out of the room, not stopping to see that his words had hit Lando like a ton of bricks. Not seeing that Lando was watching him leave, frozen solid, tears beginning to roll down his face as the gravity of what had happened began to sink in.

Bearnelli:

First come the thoughts. Both of them get seats for the 2025 season after Lewis ends up retiring at the end of 2024 due to an injury sustained towards the end of the season. Ollie gets promoted immediately into the Ferrari seat. They both had seats at top teams and that should be that right? Wrong. Immediately the pressure begins to press down upon them until they begin to crack. There's only so much one person can take until they break completely. Kimi breaks first. Breaks down in Ollie's arms after a dnf due to mechanical failure. After that, instead of them both dealing with the weight alone, they bare each other's as well, making it much more manageable. Come the end of the season their support of each other has led them to getting more points than their respective teammates

Ollie could sense that something was off with Kimi. It had been for a while. There would be periods where Ollie would happen upon him, just staring into space with a vacant expression on his face. He was much more jumpy and on more than one occasion, Ollie suspected that he had interrupted Kimi crying. Yet Kimi hadn't said a word.

So, it surprised Ollie when he heard a knock on his hotel room door just past midnight. It hadn't woken him up as he couldn't get to sleep. For the past few hours he'd just been staring at the ceiling, his mind whirring with what could have been in the qualifying session.

When the knocking came again, more urgent this time, Ollie hurried out of bed and to the door, wondering who on earth wanted him at this time of night.

He opened it to find Kimi stood there tears streaming down his cheeks. Without thinking Ollie immense scooped Kimi up into his arms.

"It's okay baby, I've got you know." He didn't know where the pet name came from but there was time later to analyse it.

[bbybluemochi]

bbybluemochi's F.A.Q. ✧･ﾟ

Hi! Arun here! I thought that instead of answering your submissions one by one I’d gather all the frequently asked questions and answer them in a single post (this is a mix of art/OC/commissions related q's)!

Please note that I do read all your messages and I’m so grateful for every one of them!!!! I keep all your words really close to my heart, thank you for liking my art and loving my Ocs as much as I do, it means the world to me <3

What’s the name of your OCs?

They’re called Cotton (the blonde one) and Puppy (the dark haired one). The original idea for them was to make some silly wolf/bunny OCs (that’s why Cotton is called like that, it was supposed to be a joke about her tail…) but somewhere along the way they took over and became something completely different!

Is there a webcomic for your OCs?

Not currently! I don’t have the time or the skills (for now) but I’d love to give it a try in the future! 

I was wondering if you mind people using your OC art as character art/inspiration for DnD?Just games with friends that are for fun, nothing for commercial.

Go ahead! I find that really flattering.

Just out of curiosity, are any of your OCs bisexual?

Both Cotton and Puppy are lesbians. That’s what I feel comfortable drawing since I’m a lesbian myself. If I ever do draw a bisexual OC I’ll make sure to mention it! <3

I think you said Cotton was a dominatrix in a previous ask, but is Puppy on the opposite side of the spectrum or is she just glad to be there whichever way?

Puppy is very much a sub. They both switch (Puppy as a service top and bottom and Cotton as a top and power bottom), but the dom/sub dynamic never changes. Also I wanted to mention that these dynamics do not transcend outside of the bedroom that much, there’s more to them than their kinks but I do love to draw them deep in their submissive/dominant headspaces. 

Are one of the lesbian fairytale characters trans?

I didn’t design either of them with that in mind, but I’m super OK with people headcanoning them as trans!

May I use your art as a header/icon?

Of course! Remember to credit me tho~

Do you allow people to use your art freely?

I don’t allow reposts of my work (not that it matters that much, since almost all my art has been already reposted a million times ))): but I’d really appreciate it if you just shared my posts instead of reposting my art). As for phone backgrounds/wallpapers or stuff like that, yeah!

Do you have an instagram account or other social media, I would love to follow you there.

My main platform is twitter (same @), I post all my drawings there and I’m usually more active over there. Tumblr is kind of like an archive. I really like the community here but I find it easier to reply/interact with people on twitter! As for instagram, I do have an old art account (same @, again) but I haven’t posted in so long. I may start posting there soon if a certain rich guy decides to keep destroying the bird app tho. 

I’ve always thought about this… how do you think it’d look if the aesthetics/styles [of your OCs] were reversed?

I’ll have to explore that in a future drawing, I haven’t thought much about it! 

Do you write fics for your characters or has anyone else written fics about them?

Not yet! A couple of my friends have offered, tho! I usually like to stick to drawing because that’s what I do best, I don’t wanna subject anyone to my writing (it’s not very good,,,,). When I share some of my Ocs stories, I think it will be in comic format. 

What's the story behind your OCs? 

There are several, actually!! I like to put my OCs in different universes. As for now, there’s the Fairytale AU, the modern setting AU (this is the original one), and now the Werewolf/Vampire AU. I also did a drawing of them as spiderwoman and black cat but I don’t think that AU is gonna make a comeback for a while. I’m also planning a scifi AU but I’m not sure I’d be able to pull off that aesthetic with my current art style so I’m still working on it. 

The Fairytale AU is the one I’m working on most of the time. I wanna release a small artbook with their story + illustrations. That was my main goal for 2023 but life got in the way, so maybe,,, 2024??? *crosses fingers* 

Is your shop down? It’s saying that it’s not available.

I open my shop for 1-2 weeks every now and then, that’s why it’s closed most of the time! My plan is to open the store again in september, if i manage to finish all the merch in time! I’ll announce it on my twitter and tumblr account when I do. 

Would you ever share a tutorial on how you make your art?

Yes, of course! I’m not very good at explaining my drawing process but If it helps anyone I’d love to! Just let me know what part of the drawing process you’d like me to focus on, because If i try to make a full illustration tutorial it’s gonna be too long/difficult to follow. 

May I ask what brush do you use for your lineart?

I use a different brush almost every time I start an illustration, I’m not very consistent when it comes to that (I think it’s mainly because I haven’t found the perfect brush yet!). But let me know what illustration you’re curious about and I’ll try to remember which one I used!

Do you come up with poses off the top of your head or do you use some type of reference? I always struggle with them.

It depends on what I’m drawing! Some of my drawings are reinterpretations of paintings (I’m obsessed with pre-raphaelite painters and arthurian legend paintings in general), so in those cases I try to adapt the poses to my art style. Even If I’m trying to recreate an already existing painting I end up changing the poses/proportions a lot along the way to fit my personal taste/art style. 

Other times, I just sketch from imagination (this is more entertaining, I think, since looking at references can make the drawing process a bit tedious). If I find it hard to draw a certain pose/part of the body I will look up references on printerest, no shame in using pictures! If I still can’t find the pose I need I’ll just take a picture of myself (this is like, a last resort for me. I’m too lazy for this). 

My personal advice would be to use references for the pose and then tweaking the pose and trying to make it more personal 

I love the way the armor was designed and rendered! Can you share some tips on designing armor? 

Drawing armor is something I still struggle with most of the time. I think I’ve learned a lot in the past year (please don’t look at my armor drawings from 2022,,,,, sigh) but I still struggle to draw certain poses/angles. My advice is: don’t hesitate to draw non-functional armor!!! There’s always gonna be someone like “actually, that armour makes no sense :)” well !!!! it looks cool as hell so who caresssss !!!!! 

I think it’s more important for you to get comfortable drawing armor before you start beating yourself up for not drawing accurate ones. It takes a lot of practice (I’m still learning!!!), especially if you’re trying to draw historically accurate ones, so start by having fun, and then work your way up from there.

Most of the tips I can think about are really hard to explain without a visual example, so let me know if that’d be a tutorial you would be interested in and I’ll try to make one (I’m cringing a little just saying this bc I swear, my armor skills are so bad compared to some amazing artists out there………..).

Do you allow cosplays your OCs?

YES…. YES PLEASE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM BEGGING YOUUU ILL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!!! *rattles my cage* 

Do you allow fanart of your OCs?

Again,,, PLEASEEEEEEEEE !!! Just tag me so I don’t miss it and remember to give me credits if you do !!!!!!!!!!! :D

I was wondering if you use procreate , clip studio, or similar apps?

A mix of both. I used to draw on procreate only until I got a tablet and now I’m a clip studio user (csp sponsor me please), and now that’s all I use. I’m so used to drawing on PC now that I don’t think I’d be able to go back to procreate, but I still like that app a lot! All my drawings (even the ones I do on csp) always get retouched on procreate because I like some of the effects (*dreamy sigh* chromatic aberration filter,,, love u). 

I wanted to know if the marks Cotton has on her waist are tattoos or like a scar? 

Those are tats! Puppy is a tattoo artist ~~~ (I’m actually not sure if i’ll keep the waist tats on Cotton or if I’ll end up redesigning them,,,)

I was wondering if you take commissions?

Not right now. I also don’t have any plans of opening commissions any time soon! When I do, I’ll post a google forms on twitter and here on tumblr with the prices and type of comms I do. But there’s nothing scheduled. 

Even tho I'm not doing commissions atm, I’m currently looking for illustration jobs (specially book covers), so don’t hesitate to email me at bbybluemochi@gmail.com

That's all for now, thank you for reading!! I think I covered most of the questions, I'll make another q&a post in the future! Bye~~

[adamantiumspy]

of fractures and fabrications

part 2

pairing: bones x reader

summary: you are captain pike’s daughter and have become inseparable from the enterprise crew, especially jim kirk and leonard mccoy... so when your terrible ex makes a reappearance right when you’re discovering your deeper feelings for bones, only chaos and heartache could ensue

word count: 5380

warnings: swearing, drinking

notes: my first time posting a fic, hope y’all like it! this took me a full month longer to write than I anticipated, and I may be writing this whole fic from bones’ perspective as well...

You never get as much rest during shore leave as your crewmates. While they’re off, free to do whatever they wish with their time, you have to spend a few hours each day back on the docked Enterprise tending to the plant life in the ship’s greenhouses. Jim always insists that you, as a senior science officer, have the authority to pawn off the task to one of your subordinates, but you take pride in doing the work yourself. And lately... well... lately you’re glad for the time alone. For the time away from a certain doctor.

You met Jim and Bones at the Academy, when they were cadets and you were an instructor��s assistant while your ship was on leave. The three of you became thick as thieves in the blink of an eye. Even though your friend group has grown since then, the bond you three share is special. So, a couple months back, when you realized that your feelings for one of your best friends had deepened into something... else... you panicked.

The last time you opened yourself up to feelings was during your own time at the Academy, when you dated a man for four years only to find out he was using you for your connection to your father to get ahead in his career and was fucking your roommate behind your back the whole time. While you know that Bones would never do something like that, the experience has left you scared to be vulnerable again. And Bones is one of your best friends. You aren’t about to ruin your friendship by putting him in the awkward position of having to turn you down.

So you’ve taken to spending more time dedicating yourself to your duties. Here, among the plants, no one will know if you while away the hours daydreaming about the way Bones’ hands would feel cupping your face, how solid his chest would feel against yours, how soft his lips would be...

You snap out of today’s daydreams at the sound of the doors to the greenhouses whooshing open. You look up to see Uhura and Sulu stroll in, the latter looking especially triumphant.

“See? I told you she’d be here,” Sulu says.

You busy yourself with checking each plant’s water level, the task you were doing before your mind wandered. “Of course I’m here. Plants don’t stop living just because everyone else is on leave.”

“C’mon Pike, you can try to deceive the others but you can’t lie to us. We know why you’re really here,” Uhura says.

You mentally curse yourself, regretting a night not too long ago when you, Sulu, and Uhura had gotten drunk and the truth of your feelings for Bones came spilling out of you before you could stop yourself. Since then, they refused to leave you in peace.

“You know, he’s still one of your best friends,” Uhura continues. “He’ll be more suspicious the more you push him away.”

“I’m not pushing him away,” you say quickly, eyes snapping up from the Capellan flower you’re inspecting.

“So then you won’t object to coming out with everyone tonight?” Sulu asks. “Kirk found a new nightclub he thinks we’ll all love and he wants us all to go.”

You swallow.

“I bet if McCoy sees you in something hot it will force him to be much more obvious about the feelings he definitely has for you,” Uhura insists.

“Enough, guys.” You sigh. “I know you want to be helpful, but filling me with false hope isn’t going to work. How many times do I have to say that before you understand?”

Sulu and Uhura share a look, shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Fine,” Sulu says. “Then come out for the rest of us. We care about you and want us all to have some fun.”

You look between Sulu and Uhura, both their eyes wide with hope. You sigh, a smile on the edge of your lips.

“Okay. For you guys.”

Sulu and Uhura cheer.

“Now get out of my greenhouse,” you order, turning back to the plants. “I’ve still got work to do.”

“No you don’t.” Sulu slides up to you, taking the tricorder out of your hands. “I’ll finish up for you. You go with Uhura to get ready for tonight.”

Before you can protest, Uhura grabs you by the arm and drags you out of the greenhouses, off the ship, and across the station to your accommodations. Once you’re back in your assigned room, Uhura dives into your closet. All you can do is sit on the edge of your bed as articles of clothing fly all around you. At one point you have to duck so as not to be hit by one of your hangers. The hurricane of fabric comes to a halt as Uhura unearths a black, figure-hugging, high neck, sleeveless dress with a slit on the side that goes dangerously high.

“No,” you say instantly.

Uhura smiles wickedly. “Yes.”

“No, Nyota–” you start, but Uhura just tosses the dress at you, shoving the rejected garments back into your closet.

“You’ve got two hours to get ready. Meet me in the lobby and we’ll walk over to the club together. If you come down wearing anything but that dress, I am making you turn around and come right back up here to change,” Uhura orders, slipping out of your room before you can voice another protest.

You lay the dress out on your bed. You haven’t worn something like this in a long time, but your friend can be exceedingly stubborn so you decide to let her get her wish.

After a quick shower, you slip on the dress. You put on minimal makeup and decide to leave your hair down, a welcome change from the braided updo you usually do for work. A glance at the clock tells you it’s about time to meet Uhura, so you put on a pair of low heels that match your dress and head out the door.

You meet up with Uhura in the building lobby. She whistles when she sees you.

“That dress looked good on the hanger, but you do it true justice.”

You giggle. “Never stop flirting with me, Nyota. And you don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Oh, I know.” Uhura strikes a pose, showing off her midnight blue dress that seems to shimmer in the low light. She then links arms with you, leaning in. “I’m serious about how good this dress looks on you, but it would look even better on McCoy’s floor.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. “Nyota!”

“What? If he’s not gonna start making moves, I’ve gotta start making moves for him.”

You shake your head. “Not funny. Besides, that is the cheesiest pickup line you could’ve chosen.”

The nightclub isn’t too far from the hotel Starfleet procured for the crew’s shore leave accommodations. By the time you and Uhura arrive, the rest of your friends are already a few drinks deep.

“There you two are! I was about to send a search party!” Jim calls, waving you both over to the bar. Your stomach does a flip the moment you see Bones. The easy smile he shoots you as you approach used to bring you platonic comfort, but now it sets every one of your nerves on fire.

“Woah, darlin’. You look incredible,” Bones says as you and Uhura join the group.

Uhura shoots you a knowing smile. “I know, doesn’t she?”

You ignore Uhura, turning to Bones. “Thank you. Uhura picked it out.”

Jim cuts in, handing you and Uhura a shot. “C’mon!” he exclaims. “Let’s dance!”

You barely have enough time to down the drink and place the glass back on the bar before Jim is dragging you onto the dancefloor. For the next hour you choose to forget all your worries, drinking and dancing with Jim, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. You eventually manage to escape back to the bar, joining Bones and Spock. Bones chuckles as you collapse onto a stool.

“Worn out already?” he teases, flagging down the bartender and motioning for a glass of water.

“It’s been a while since I broke out my dancing shoes,” you reply. “But Jim just doesn’t stop. Where does he get the stamina?”

“I do not know,” Spock says.

Bones wordlessly passes you the water. You take it, nerves tingling at the brush of your fingers against his. The alcohol in your system has made you less cautious, so you beam at him.

“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of water. “You’re always taking care of me.”

You think you see him blush, but you’re sure it’s just the flashing lights playing tricks. Jim and Scotty bound over to the group, gasping for breath.

“You abandoning us already, Pike?” Jim asks, ordering himself another drink.

“Just need a break, is all. Doctor’s orders,” you reply, shooting Bones a begging look.

“That’s right, Jim,” Bones jumps in. “Can’t have one of our best pass out on the dancefloor.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to take her place,” Jim says matter-of-factly.

“Jim, I don’t–” Bones starts, but it’s too late. Jim grabs him by the arm and drags him onto the dancefloor. Within seconds they’re both swallowed up by the crowd.

“Ach, the poor doctor never stood a chance,” Scotty says, shaking his head before turning to you. “Another drink, lass?”

You nod, downing the rest of your water and following it with the shot Scotty hands you. You haven’t felt this warm, this loose in ages, so much so that when your ex-boyfriend and ex-roommate walk into the club it takes a moment for your brain to register it. The second your brain catches up with what your eyes are seeing, you tense up, blood running cold. You feel Spock stiffen beside you. You guess he saw them enter too. Besides Jim and Bones, Spock is the only person who knows about your ex. He was there, after all, studying at the Academy beside you during the whole love affair.

Scotty notices the sudden tension, following both your gazes to see your ex.

“Who’s that?” Scotty asks.

“No one,” you say quickly, turning your back to the door.

But it’s too late. You’re sure he spotted you and before long you hear a throat being cleared behind you. You turn around slowly to see your ex, your backstabbing roommate by his side.

“Long time, no see,” your ex says, his gaze sweeping over you. You say nothing, and neither does Spock, who is scowling at your ex. Scotty takes the scene in before addressing the newcomers.

“My name’s Montgomery Scott. My friends call me Scotty. You are?”

“Matthew Williams. This is my fiancée, Anja Antos.”

You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“It’s nice to meet you, Scotty,” Matthew continues.

“Hold on now, laddie. I said my friends call me Scotty. And it seems like my two friends here don’t care for either of you too much.”

“Oh, that’s just a little grudge they’re holding onto from our Academy days.” Matthew chuckles. “Nothing serious.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, finding your voice again.

Matthew turns his gaze to you. “Our ship’s on shore leave, and we’re out to celebrate. Anja just passed her bridge officer’s test. She’ll be joining me up on the bridge, where all the action is. You’re still working with plants, right Pike? I’m sure that can be exciting too.”

Before you can defend yourself, Spock says, “Dr. Pike is third in command of the Enterprise.”

You see Matthew’s jaw clench. And if looks could kill, the one Anja shoots you certainly would incinerate you on the spot.

“I see we have much more to catch up on than we thought,” Anja says.

“Why don’t you join us?” Matthew asks. “We can grab some drinks and find an empty booth somewhere to continue chatting.”

You can’t think of anything you want to do less than spend more time with Matthew and Anja, but, as if possessed, you find yourself accepting Matthew’s offer. Before you know it, the three of you are situated in a booth, the couple on one side, you on the other.

“So, you’re engaged,” you say, breaking the silence.

Anja and Matthew smile at each other.

“I finally got him to propose,” Anja says, leaning into Matthew. “It’s nice, knowing you have a partner who’s fully committed to you. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can make you feel that way too.”

“You assume I’m single?”

“You’re not?”

You take a sip of your drink. “That’s really none of your business.”

“So,” Matthew cuts in. “Second officer of the Enterprise. When’d you get the promotion?”

You think about your response for a moment. You’re usually not one for showing off your achievements, but you remember how badly Matthew wanted to command his own ship and how much he hurt you when you wouldn’t help him the way he wanted. So fuck him.

“A few years back,” you say. “When my father was still in command of the Enterprise. Starfleet’s offered me my own ship a couple times since then, but I keep turning them down.”

You see anger flash in Matthew’s eyes. You definitely got to him. Before you can say anything else, Jim and Bones plop into the seats beside you.

“There you are. We were wondering where you’d disappeared to.” Jim grins at you, before turning to the other half of the table. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jim Kirk, he’s Leonard McCoy. You are?”

“Matthew Williams and Anja Antos,” Matthew replies. Anja’s eyes rake over Jim and Bones.

“Matthew and Anja,” Jim repeats, turning back to you. “That Matthew and Anja?”

You give a slight nod and instantly both Jim and Bones throw their arms across the back of your seat, scooching closer to you, as if they coordinated it beforehand.

“We’ve heard lots about you, Matthew,” Bones says, barely concealing his distaste. “About you both.”

“And how do you two know Pike?” Anja asks

“We’re her boyfriends,” Jim says.

You choke on your drink.

“I mean, we’re also coworkers,” Jim continues. “I’m the captain of the Enterprise, McCoy’s the CMO, and Pike’s one of my science officers. But I feel like the whole relationship thing supersedes all that.”

Time seems to slow as your mind calculates both outcomes to this situation. Either you correct Jim’s lie and are forced to endure Anja and Matthew’s gloating as they hold your perpetual singleness over your head. Or... Or you lean into the lie, transform your strong friendships into a three-way relationship, and in the process allow yourself to let your guard down, wear your feelings for Bones on your sleeve without fear of reproach.

So you lean into the lie, and against Bones’ chest. Your hand reaches out towards Jim, taking his hand in yours, fingers curling together. Bones drapes his arm around your shoulders, holding you close. You look over to see Matthew and Anja taking the scene in.

“You’re both her boyfriends?” Matthew asks incredulously.

“Yep,” Bones replies.

“So how’d you all end up together?” Anya asks challengingly.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you tell them?” Jim turns to you.

“Yeah, you tell the story best,” Bones adds.

You realize they’re letting you set the stage as a way to make up for blind-siding you. You decide to start with the truth.

“We all met at the Academy. Jim and Leonard were cadets and I was an instructor’s assistant. We became fast friends.”

“And... what? You fell into a relationship?” Matthew asks.

“No, no, not all at once,” you say, gaining confidence. “It started with me and Jim. He was a charmer, swept me off my feet. Nobody knows how to make me laugh like Jim does. And it was just the two of us for a while, until one day I woke up and realized I’d fallen in love with Leonard.”

The words you’ve been too scared to even think just spill out of you. You look at Bones to see him smiling at you and you have to remind yourself that none of this is real. That his happiness at your declaration is a fabrication.

“In hindsight, I should’ve seen it coming,” you continue, eyes still on Bones. “Loving Leonard is like breathing, always there but you’re never aware of it unless you concentrate hard enough.” You shoot Matthew and Anya a look. “I told Jim immediately because I’m not a cheater. To my surprise he said he was willing to share, providing Leonard felt the same.”

“And you two are happy with sharing?” Matthew asks.

“We’re happy with any bit of love we can get from her. She’s an incredible woman.” Jim grins.

“If it were up to us,” Bones says, “we’d be married already.”

Your stomach flips, mind racing with images of you and Bones as a married couple. Waking up next to him every morning, dropping by the medbay just because, him visiting you in the greenhouses because he misses you, sharing his last name...

You can feel his eyes on you, but you stop yourself from looking at him again, afraid that he’ll see beyond the performance, straight into your heart. Instead, you glance at Matthew and Anja. They are shooting each other knowing looks.

“Baby,” Anja says, addressing Matthew. “I need a new drink.”

“Of course,” Matthew replies, turning to the other half of the table. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

As Matthew and Anja move towards the bar, Jim whispers, “I don’t think they fully bought it.”

“Of course they didn’t buy it,” you whisper back. “They were never gonna buy me having two partners. They still think no one would associate themselves with me of their own free will.”

“They’ll buy it if you kiss one of us.”

You widen your eyes at Jim. “If I what?”

You are suddenly acutely aware of the fact you’re still leaning against Bones.

“If you’re worried about our willingness, darlin’, don’t be,” Bones says. “Jim and I got you into this mess and we’re gonna get you out of it. The last thing we want is for those two assholes to think they’ve one-upped you.”

You look between Jim and Bones, both of them watching and waiting for you to act. Once again, your analytical mind processes the two possible scenarios. If you pick Jim, then maybe you can get out of this with a little less heartbreak. But if you pick Bones... well... this could be your only chance to know what it would be like to kiss him.

You tilt your face up and press your lips against Bones’. You focus on how soft his lips feel against yours, committing the sensation to memory. You let yourself pretend, for a moment, that this is a real kiss. That the gentle hand Bones places against your cheek and the parting of his lips to deepen the kiss are because he wants you too, not because he’s helping you get back at your shitty ex and his shitty fiancée.

The kiss ends from a need for oxygen more than anything else. You both take in air, breaths mingling in the space between you, but you don’t pull away and neither does Bones. Your heart is beating so fast, so loud you bet the whole club can hear it over the thumping music.

“Did they see?” you finally murmur.

“Yeah, they saw,” Jim confirms.

You pull away from Bones, heart and head still spinning.

“I, uh... I think I need some air,” you say.

Jim rises to let you out of the booth, retaking his seat once you’re standing. Before you slip away, you lean down and press a kiss against Jim’s cheek.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“I’ve allegedly got two boyfriends, don’t I?” you reply.

You hear Jim chuckle behind you as you make your way out of the club. Once outside, you close your eyes and take in deep breaths of the filtered space station air, emptying your mind of everything that just happened because if you think about it for too long you know you’ll start to spiral. Inevitably, though, your thoughts start to creep back in.

You curse the part of you that loses all semblance of reason when Matthew and Anja are around. If you had a better handle on your emotions, you wouldn’t end up in situations like these, the pair of them digging more knives into your already fractured being. And you wouldn’t have to rely on Jim and Bones to bail you out.

Oh god. Bones.

Your fingers brush against your lips. You were so flustered after the kiss you forgot to take in his expression, couldn’t remember if he’d been happy or disappointed. Then you remind yourself it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that it was the most perfect kiss, soft and sweet just like all your daydreams. He had done it out of duty.

Maybe you should’ve kissed Jim instead.

“Pike?”

You jump, whirling around to see Chekov. His eyes widen.

“I am sorry! I did not mean to startle you. You looked upset as you were leaving and so I thought I would check if you are okay.”

You relax, smiling at him. “I will be. Thank you, Chekov. I just... got a little overwhelmed.”

Chekov nods, gesturing back at the club. “Are you going to come back in?”

You glance at the door to the club, feeling nauseous at the mere thought of facing Matthew and Anja again, or having to look Bones in the face with the ghost of his kiss still on your lips.

“Actually,” you say, “I think I’m going to head back. Will you tell the others I’ve gone?”

Chekov nods. “Do you want company on your walk back?”

“No, thank you. I’ll be alright.”

You watch as Chekov heads back into the club, then start walking towards your accommodations. However, your mind begins to wander and before you know it you’re back on the Enterprise, heading towards the greenhouses. You decide to keep going, figuring you can get a head start on tomorrow’s work while simultaneously distracting yourself from the feelings you don’t want to process right now.

You’re eleven plants in when you hear movement down the hall. You freeze. All crew members have the same access to the ship on shore leave as they do when on duty, but no one has a reason to be on the ship at this hour. There are no phasers in the greenhouses, so you grab a pair of shears and make your way out of the botanical labs, creeping down the hallway towards the sound.

You find yourself outside the medbay, sounds of activity coming from inside. You step forward, the doors whooshing open. Inside you find a man, right hand and face littered with cuts, many still oozing blood. Bruises also cover his hand and face, but the largest one is blooming under his left eye. The man is covered in so many wounds it takes you a full three seconds to recognize one of your best friends.

“Jesus Christ, Len!” you exclaim, rushing into the medbay, dropping the shears onto the closest surface.

“Easy, darlin’,” Bones says. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Not as bad as it looks!” You raise a hand and grab a hold of his face by the chin, turning his head this way and that to assess all the cuts and bruises. You then turn your attention to his bloody, bruised hand, noting how he’s not moving his fingers. That’s a bad sign.

“You wouldn’t’ve even seen me like this if I hadn’t run out of my damn first aid supplies earlier today. Keenser’s still oozing that highly acidic green goo and a coupla lieutenants got caught in the crossfire.” Bones huffs a laugh, before cocking his head towards your shears. “What were you gonna do if it wasn’t me? Snip the intruder to death?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” You eye him for a moment. “Okay, go get on that bed over there.”

“What?”

“I’m playing doctor tonight. I’ll collect the supplies and meet you over there.”

“Darlin’, I can patch myself up just fine.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. Now go on. Get,” you say, waving him towards the bed.

Bones gives a slight smile before heading towards the bed. You turn back to the supply cabinet, grabbing a metal tray and loading it with healing salve, bandages, rubbing alcohol, cotton squares, and a tricorder. You pause, giving yourself a moment to bottle up all the feelings you’d been ignoring. Bones needs you as a friend right now. You’re not gonna let your love for him get in the way of that.

You find Bones sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over the side. You plop the tray down on the bed beside him.

“The other guy better look worse,” you say, falling into the usual banter you share as you grab the rubbing alcohol, dump a bit on a cotton square, and start to clean the wounds on his hand.

“Trust me, he does,” Bones says, grimacing as you move his hand.

You frown at his reaction, putting the cotton square down and grabbing the tricorder. “Oh yeah? Must’ve done something real bad if he made you do something like this. This isn’t really your style. Jim, on the other hand...” You finish scanning his hand, frown deepening at the readings. Before Bones can say anything, you say, “You’ve got a hairline fracture at your wrist. You’ll need a brace for that, right?”

Bones nods. “We’ve got some over in that cabinet.”

You walk over to the cabinet Bones identified, grabbing the appropriate brace then walking back to Bones.

“I’m gonna add some salve to your hand before I put on the brace to help with the cuts. I’ll try my best not to hurt you.”

Bones nods again. You apply the healing salve as quickly and carefully as possible. Bones gives the occasional wince and you find yourself absentmindedly rubbing your thumb along the side of his hand in comfort. When you catch yourself doing it, you stop abruptly, now acutely aware of the weight of his hand in yours. Before you can stop yourself, your mind wanders to a daydream, one where Bones’ hands are splayed across your back, holding you close to his chest, his lips on yours...

You come back to reality, mentally berating yourself as you grab some bandages to wrap Bones’ hand, hoping he didn’t notice your mind wander. If he did, he doesn’t say anything, watching you as you finish wrapping his hand and slip the brace on. Bones adjusts the straps on the brace to his satisfaction as you grab a fresh cotton square, add rubbing alcohol, and move to the cuts on his face. For easier access, you slot yourself between his legs and try to ignore the sudden fluttering in your stomach at the proximity.

“What were you thinking, Len? You’re a surgeon. You kinda need your hands to do your job.” You start to clean the wounds on his face.

“My hand will heal. Besides, if I hadn’t, Jim would’ve. Hell, Spock would’ve.” Bones winces as you pass the cotton square over the largest of the cuts.

“Spock? Our Spock?” you ask incredulously, dumping the squares on the tray and reaching for the healing salve. You apply small dabs of the salve on his facial wounds.

“Sulu and Scotty nearly had to hold him back,” Bones says.

“Jesus. Who was this guy and what did he do?”

“It was Matthew.”

You freeze, focusing your gaze to meet Bones’.

“What did... what did he say?” you ask quietly.

Bones keeps his eyes on you. “He was talkin’ shit, insulting you. Started by sayin’ you only got into the Academy because of your dad. It only escalated from there. The middle part’s a bit fuzzy, but I remember he said something about how the only reason you’re still on the Enterprise is because you’re fucking the captain and the CMO. Which is just...” Bones clenches his jaw in anger. “Maybe sleeping with Jim would come with perks, but me? You outrank me. Sleeping with me wouldn’t... Anyway, I wasn't gonna let his comments slide, and neither was Jim. Our made-up three-way relationship aside, you are one of the only people in all of Starfleet that’s worth a damn. You run circles around both of those assholes. We tried to tell them to fuck off, but they wouldn’t listen. Chekov was holding Jim back, Sulu and Scotty were blocking Spock, and I guess Uhura thought I’d be rational enough not to get violent. She thought wrong. It was all over before it really started, lots of broken glass and spilled drinks, but I got a few good punches in.”

You lean up and press a kiss against Bones’ cheek, stunning him into silence.

“Wha... What was that for?” he finally asks.

“For defending my honor,” you say. “Thank you, Len.”

“Here I was thinkin’ you’d be upset.”

“Matthew’s an asshole. Anja too. They could get blown up on a starship for all I care.”

Bones chuckles as you finish lathering his injuries in the healing salve. You wipe your hand of excess salve and then grab the bandages. Bones lets you continue to work in silence, watching you as you place butterfly bandages on the largest of his facial wounds.

“Okay,” you say. “All done.”

“Got me all patched up, Doc?” Bones teases.

“As best I could.” You gather all the used supplies and place them on the metal tray. “You’ll need to ice that black eye and change the bandages every once in a while, but you already knew that. And I’m guessing you know how long you need to wear that brace for, or will at least have M’Benga look you over as soon as possible.”

Bones nods. “Thank you, darlin’. You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Len. I care about you. This is the least I would do for someone I care about.”

Bones says nothing for a moment, then, “I love when you call me Len.”

You blink. Before you can stop yourself, you say, “I love when you call me darlin’.”

You both stare at each other. You open your mouth to say something, anything to break the silence, but Bones beats you to it.

“I wanted to say sorry.”

You furrow your brow. Of everything he could’ve possibly said in that moment, the last thing you expected of him was an apology.

“What for?” you ask.

“For everything back at the club. Jim and I should’ve told you what we had planned beforehand. And I’m especially sorry you had to kiss me.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you, Len. I chose to.”

“Still, you wouldn’t’ve if we hadn’t put you in an awkward position.”

“That’s not true,” you blurt out, immediately cursing yourself.

Bones blinks at you, eyes flicking to your lips. Neither of you moves, simultaneously too afraid to stick to the status quo or break it.

Fuck it.

You kiss him, softly at first, but when he sighs against your lips and wraps his arms around your waist you press yourself against him, parting your lips to deepen the kiss. You cup his face in your hands, mindful of his injuries.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You pull back. “You love me?”

Bones gives you a soft smile. “C’mon, darlin’, you must’ve known.”

You shake your head. “Uhura and Sulu tried to tell me, but I thought they were just teasing me.”

“Why would that tease you?”

“Because I love you.” You run your thumbs across his cheeks. “God, Len, I am so in love with you.”

Bones pulls you into another kiss. You giggle against his lips.

“What?” Bones asks.

“Uhura and Sulu are going to be insufferable for a while,” you say.

Bones grins. “You think they’re going to be insufferable? Wait until Jim finds out.”

You both laugh. Then you kiss him again. And again. And again.