#I was kinda worried they wouldn’t get used to me being around the tank but now they’re pretty chill so the messy planting is working out

[11thplace]

Sold my old aquarium n used the money to set up a little planted tank

pristella tetras are seriously cute 💖

[princessbrunette]

stepbro!rafe with reader who prances around the house alwaaays braless n shes just oblivious on how that makes her big brother feel :(

i forgot if i have requested tbis or not, if i did u can ignore !! xx

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎀 ⋅ 🍡 ˖°

you were in your own home, of course you were gonna stroll around without a bra on. surely he couldn’t expect you to wear one all the time, especially when you and rafe were often left to your own devices at tannyhill— growing comfortable enough together for you to assumably not have to worry about that kind of thing.

it started off just going braless beneath big sleep shirts when you walk around the kitchen in the morning — something that was pretty unnoticeable if you weren’t particularly looking and fairly appropriate to wear around the house. but you got comfortable, and apparently according to your lack of— must have burned all your bras over time or something. rafe started to notice your nipples peeking through little crop tops and baby tees, flashing him a cute smile as you’d pass him in the hallway which he’d barely catch because he was too focused on staring unabashedly at the way your tits would bounce with each step.

you’d even gone braless with a couple of tank tops, which would drive rafe up the wall, shaking his head at you in faux disgust which you wouldn’t even care for— thin material clinging to the shape of you, nipples practically piercing through the fabric.

it was one day you were prancing around cleaning the living room in a thin baby tee, braless, and tiny little booty shorts. rafe was feeling particularly high strung that day, and decided enough was enough.

“hey, come to my office okay? we need to talk.” was all he said before he marched off, expecting you to trail behind. you furrow your brows, setting down the duster you were using to swipe the dust from the shelves as you walked, no, bounced along behind him.

once you’re in there, he shuts the door and doesn’t give you much space to move about, standing directly infront of you.

“whats the matter, rafe?” your voice is high and worried, making him shift on his feet, licking his lips irritably.

“you know, i’m… i’m getting real tired of you not respecting me as a man, okay?” he rambles, eyeing you.

“what do you mean?”

“you really think this shit,” he plucks at your clothes, startling you. “is appropriate attire to walk around the house in? around your stepbrother?” he tilts his head, voice raising a little bit and you glance down at yourself, a flicker of shame behind those innocent eyes. he closes in on you, lowering his tone to a volume just above a whisper. “i’m a man okay? i have needs, and — and you are making it increasingly harder to ignore those needs. do you understand what i’m saying to you?” he grits his teeth, emphasising the t on each word making your eyes widen, head nodding.

“i’m sorry, rafe. it’s just comfortable.”

“yeah, well, you’re kinda killing me… and that’s not fair, is it? riling me up like that? without letting me touch you?” he seethes, eyes squinted and you hate when he’s mad at you, bottom lip puffing out which in hindsight probably only riled him up more.

“you— you can if you want. just want you to stop being mad.” you offer pathetically, eyes glassy and apologetic and he’s stopped in his tracks.

“yeah? you—you want your stepbrother to touch you?” he makes a face like he’s disgusted by the mere offer and your face falls, confused and ashamed. before you go to take it back, he gently taps you on your shoulder, making you lean against the door he closed behind you. “thats why you wore this shit, isn’t it?” his warm hands graze you, sliding up your body until they’re cupping your free’d tits through the thin fabric of your shirt. they’re warm and squishy and he can’t help but give them a generous squeeze, the act making your cunt throb, back arching into his palms only confusing you further.

“r—rafe.” you’re trying to warn him of the way it’s making you feel, thighs pressed together and eyes fluttering, but he’s already well aware — mouth flicking up into a smirk.

“yeah. i know. didn’t think i would do it, right? you know this is what girls like you get.” he starts to lift your shirt until it’s tucked above your tits, the two of them now free and being fondled making you mewl. “you gotta learn that your actions have consequences. i’m… i’m the older step brother that has to step up, teach you shit… m’proactive you know i— i gotta handle you so you behave yourself. nothin’ wrong with that, right?”

he’s rambling now, erection vividly pressing against his pants but his eyes wide, expression unreadable— like he’s searching for something. moral justification, maybe. he knew it was wrong, but he was trying to convince himself other wise. all he needed was that green light.

“rafe it’s okay.” you whisper. permission.

he steps back suddenly, leaving you prey-eyed and jostled against his door, top still pulled up above your tits. he sways on the spot undecided for a moment, itching his nose as he eyes you before uttering words that would change your relationship forever.

“take off your clothes, alright?”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎀 ⋅ 🍡 ˖°

[yokohamapound]

How about some angsty HCs?? 😏

How would Kunikida, Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya and Fyodor (or anyone else you’d like too) react to their s/o taking a hit for them that would have otherwise been fatal if they didn’t?? S/o ends up being okay but the gentlemen are all angsty in the meantime >:)

Thanks so much lovely! 🥰💕

Hello, my lovely! It's been a while since I wrote some good old angst, so this scratched an itch. I hope these are what you are looking for!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: death mentions, suicide mentions, controlling behaviour, anger issues

Nakahara Chuuya

Ooh, it’s kinda difficult for him to deal with? He’s in two minds about it, really. 

On one hand, he’s strong enough that whatever blow was being dealt to him really wouldn’t have hurt him that much, or so he tells himself. All he can think about is that moment where the bullet/bomb/fireball, whatever it is, was coming toward you. Yes, you survived it, but he had to live through the nanoseconds of absolute hell when he thought he was just about to see another person he cares about die right before his eyes. 

His temper erupts afterward. He’s furious, yelling at you that you “didn’t fuckin’ need to do that!” You’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s his pride you’ve hurt, but it’s anger born of worry. Those few moments he thought you were going to die were harrowing for him. 

Imagine if he carelessly lost the person he loves the most, just because he was too slow or too stupid to see it coming? Shit, he could never live with himself if that happened. 

However, there’s the other side of the coin. Which is that you cared about him enough to intercept a blow aimed at him. Chuuya can’t remember the last time someone did that for him. He’s used to being the tank, to soaking up all the violence so the geniuses can get on with their schemes. He doesn’t really know how to handle someone trying to protect him, like he’s something vulnerable.

He likes it and he doesn’t. He’s grateful and he’s pissed. Chuuya’s a complicated creature. 

Once he’s done yelling and has calmed down a little, he’ll mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, though he says it with his eyes mulishly averted and one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He won’t be letting you out of his sight for a while, even while he’s being a grouch.

Dazai Osamu

While he might not show it on the surface, this has a rather profound effect on Dazai. Remember the last time someone he loved died in front of him?

While he pretends to be calm on the surface, inside he’s in turmoil. He should have seen it coming; you’re the self-sacrificing sort, always trying to save him in one or another. But before now, it hasn’t been literal. 

I feel like time moves very slowly for someone as fast as Dazai. He was able to process far too much information in those few seconds you were in danger. All of his mistakes, laid out for him as plain as day. 

He tends to convince himself that he can plan around every kind of incident but this is a start reminded that this isn’t always the case.

“Hey, bella?” His tone is unusually serious. His hand on your shoulder. “I’m going to need you not to do that again. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you die in front of me.”

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice Dazai doesn’t make any more double suicide jokes after that. They don’t have the same appeal. Dazai doesn’t think he could stand to watch you die, even if you did want to join him. 

He keeps a close watch on you after that, turning up unexpectedly throughout your day without any explanation, his lanky form popping up like a weed.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

While he will never, ever reveal it, this will shake Fyodor’s iron-clad ego a little bit. He likes to think he is in control of everything, and he can predict every single action of yours down to the blink. For whatever reason, he didn’t foresee you getting in his way and taking a hit meant for him. 

You gain an element of unpredictability, which is both intriguing and alarming for him. 

There is also the fact that you stepped in to take a hit for him. While he’s used to having underlings who look up to him like a god (Ivan), he doesn’t count you amongst the peons. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, but in a way that promotes adoration and obedience, not self-sacrificing recklessness. He’ll have to step back and examine your relationship somewhat.

“My darling, what was the meaning of that?” he asks of you, his tone soft and a little dangerous. “I do not need you flinging yourself in the path of danger for me. I have everything in hand.”

He likes your devotion, but he doesn’t want you getting in the way of his plans. And he does care about you, love you in his own way—he doesn’t want to lose something he sees as his. 

If you were injured at all, he will have the best private doctors on hand to treat you. Be prepared for his love and attention to be a little stifling for a while. He won’t want to let you out of his sight. 

As for the person whose attack you foiled? Fyodor will turn the full weight of his enormous intellect to destroying them. They were dead the moment their attack came near something he cares about.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Fukuzawa is very much the self-sacrificing sort. He’s said more than once that he doesn’t mind giving up his life in order to ensure peace in Yokohama, or to protect the lives of the younger members of the agency. He’s heavily bound by duty.

While he holds these values to himself, he doesn’t expect you to abide by the same code. In fact, he doesn’t want you to. You’re not a grizzled old samurai like him. (His words, not yours.)

He also heavily dislikes the idea that you were in danger because of him. Your relationship with him shouldn’t be a source of danger for you. As soon as he’s sure you’re safe and well, he will sit back and mull things over in his silent, intense way. He considers all options, from simply killing the person who tried to attack him, to ending your relationship with him to ensure your safety.

Thankfully, he comes to the conclusion that you are an adult who knows what is good for you. He’s never hidden the truth from you, and if you’re willing to face that to stand at his side, then Fukuzawa needs to respect that. He can’t make your decisions for you. 

“However,” he says. “I must ask that you do not do that again. I can accept my own death, but not yours.”

“Don’t you trust me to watch your back?”

“Obviously, you can be trusted,” he says. “Today is evidence enough, but know that I could not live with myself if you were injured or killed looking out for me. If death is coming for me, I have earned it.”

He can’t really be talked out of this mindset, but that’s part of why you fell for him in the first place. Just make him a promise that you won’t put yourself at risk on his behalf. 

Kunikida Doppo

Poor Kunikida.

One of his ideals is that he will never watch anyone die right in front of him if he can help it. The last time he had to watch an innocent person die, it almost shattered his psyche. 

If you were to die in front of him, it would break him utterly. Even though you’re fine, the close shave rattles him down to his core. Instead of blowing his top and then settling down, the way you’re used to him doing, Kunikida becomes grim and quiet. 

He refuses to step away from your bedside while you’re in the hospital for a check-up after the incident. His notebook of ideals is folded in his pocket, ignored. The fact he isn’t scribbling anything down is a little alarming. He’s not Kunikida if he’s not adding little notes to it every five minutes. He has his hands steepled together, his face grim behind his glasses.

“Are you going to yell at me?” you ask him. 

Kunikida lifts his gaze to you, almost as if he’s surprised to hear you speak. He breaks out of his reverie a little bit, sitting up and pushing his glasses further up his nose. The light hits the lenses, hiding his expression from you a little. His voice is sombre.

“I must thank you for saving my life,” he tells you, almost formal. 

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” You know him well enough by now. You reach out and take one of his hands.

Kunikida fingers tighten around yours, trembling slightly. It’s the only way that you can see how completely off centre he is. 

“Kunikida?”

“Don’t…don’t make me worry like that again. Please.”

[starchildren220]

Labour VIII

꧁ ꧂

Labour Masterlist

Masterlist

꧁ ꧂

Finally, Atara had a turn with training. She was outside close to where Eriks training was, but it had a few benches and a tree canopy.

“So, what’re we gonna be doing?” Atara asked Charles.

“Well, I don’t know what I’m dealing with. So, tell me, how does *your* mutation work.” Charles words were full of intrigue.

“Basically-” Atara started before being interrupted.

“I don’t wanna hear the basics I wanna hear everything about your mutation.” Charles clarified his statement.

“Ok?” Atara was confused to why he was so interested. “Well, when my body is injured, it pulls itself back together. Like if you tore off my arm it wouldn’t just grow back, my arm would come back.” Charles was nodding along, seemingly hypnotized.

“Is there like a distance that it won’t come back?” Charles questioned.

“No, but most of the time my blood doesn’t come back, my blood replenishes much faster than a normal human, so I bleed a lot faster, and a lot more but it never runs out. If you were to try and trap a piece of me in like a jar or something, it kinda just vanished through the object and comes back to me. It's really weird."

"There isn't really a way to train that, especially since I don't want to hurt you so I think we can just stick to combat and stuff." Charles told Atara who looked slightly shocked.

"I have other mutations." She reinformed him.

"I know that, but, you said that it hurts to use them, again I don't want to hurt you." Charles smiled sweetly at her. She felt sickly feeling, like she was gonna throw up. But the feeling also kind of felt nice, no one but Riptide had really been nice to her.

“So what types of combat?” Atara inquired.

“Well just basic hand to hand, you know. Though we’ll have to find someone who can, I can’t do much of that stuff.” He chuckled scratching the back of his neck.

“Sounds good just get me when you’ve found someone.” With that Atara left the bench and headed back to the house. Charles watched her walk away, he still couldn’t believe how someone could be so perfect.

꧁ ꧂

Turns out Erik was the only one who knew anything about actual fighting. Sean tried to convince Charles that he knew cause of the amount of action movies he watched would suffice for training.

Everybody had ended up gathered around the makeshift area in the grassy lawn. Atara had changed into black shorts, a black tank top, and some tennis shoes Raven had let her borrow.

Erik had the same grey sweat pants he was wearing earlier but decided to take off the jacket to reveal a white tank.

Atara wasn’t too excited to be fighting her little brother but she did have to train at least a little bit. Charles had gone over a few basic rules, no bone breaking, obviously no fatal wounds even if Atara could heal herself, and try not to knock the person out.

Charles had decided to be referee to make sure these rules were followed, though he also didn’t think they would break the rules. Alex, Sean, Hank, and Raven had made bets to see who would win. Hank, and Alex had bet against Erik, thinking Atara would win. Sean and Raven bet against Atara thinking Erik would win. Each person bet ten dollars and winners would split the winnings.

“Get ready.” Charles called out to the two fighters. Atara had decided to start with defense rather than using on her offense. “Get set.” Charles words had cast a stillness over everybody watching. Atara and Erik started in a classic fighting position.

“Go!” Charles announced. Erik was the one who threw the first punch, she dodged and waiting for Erik’s next attack. He goes for a forward kick, Atara went to block before Erik’s leg switched angles and he changed to a side kick, the blow lands on the side of her upper arm, the blow caused her to grunt. Charles stiffened in worry, and he moved a step closer.

Atara threw another punch, Erik dodged and countered. She dodged by dropping down, kicking Erik’s legs out from under him. He grunted as the wind was taken from his lungs. Atara to this time to pin him down by putting her foot against his throat.

Erik tried to push her foot off, squirming and pushing his feet into the ground to try and help. Atara pushed further before Charles interrupted.

“That’s enough now!” He called out and Atara moved her foot off and leaned down offering her hand to Erik. He used her hand to help him. She pulled him into a hug, she pulled back at looked him in the eyes.

“You okay?” She asked, he nodded and pulled out of her arms. Charles walked up to her.

“That was amazing darling.” He complemented, she noticed the pet name and the feeling in her stomach came back.

“Darling?” She asked raising her brow. Charles blushed.

“Oh! I apologize, it just slipped out.” He tried to cover up his slip up.

“I don’t mind.” She told him and he smiled, trying to make his blush go away.

“I think it best if you teach self defense lessons, it could help greatly in the fight.” Charles offered changing the subject.

“I’m not against the idea.” Atara thought about the option before shrugging. “Sure I’ll do it.”

“Excellent.” Charles smiled while clasping his hands together, “We’ll start training tomorrow.” Atara nodded, a small smile appearing on her face at Charles enthusiasm.

꧁ ꧂

The next day started early, Atara started with Hank at 7. Hank was a fast learner, he had the basics down in an half an hour and was able to keep up with her going easy on him.

The next hour was Sean, he was definitely interesting. It took him the hour to learn how to punch right.

Next was Alex, he seemed to have more street fighting abilities, she just helped him clean up his weak spots.

Raven was next, she had started off in her ‘human’ form, eventually Atara convinced her to use her blue form and she became quite a lot stronger and quicker. The lesson ended a half hour later than it was supposed to because of Raven and Atara chatting at the end.

Atara took a lunch break before starting up again at one with Erik, his session lasted the longest, about three hours. It took this long because it was the first to win five rounds, Atara had ended up winning but it had been close.

She took a nap due to her tiredness from the full day of teaching. Then dinner started, ending at seven. At seven thirty Atara started training with Charles.

“So what do you know?” She asked, crossing her arms, dressed in a tank and some shorts.

“Almost nothing.” Charles admitted, “But i could easily find out.” He motioned his two fingers to his head. Atara chuckled before gently stopping his hand from reaching his temple.

“No need, you’re gonna learn the old fashion way. First lesson, how to throw a punch.” She set her stance in front of the bag, throwing a punch she stopped when her hand hit the bag, she pointed at her thumb, instructing him.

“You wanna make sure to have your thumb over your fingers, putting your fingers over your thumb will cause you to break your thumb.” She moved back from the bag, pointing to her hips. “Make sure to move your body with the punch, that’s where the power comes from, obviously to make it to where you fall but still a good bit.” Charles was nodding along as you spoke to him.

“And make sure you punch through the thing you’re punching, not just the thing. I’ll demonstrate both.” She punched the bag, it stopped as soon as contact was made and it seemed to do nothing to the bag. “That was just punching the object now i’ll show you punching through the object.” Her punch this time was powerful and made the bag swing back pretty far, coming back fast she caught it before turning to him. “You understand?”

“I think so.” He seemed skeptical on his ability to demonstrate his comprehension.

“Well come on then.” Atara moved from in front of the bag letting him take her spot. “Don’t throw a punch yet, get in your stance.” He nodded before stepping into a stance similar to her own. She critiqued his pose before nodding for him to continue.

He threw his first punch, it was good but he didn’t follow through. “Push through the bag.” She suggested, he went back to his stance and tried again, this time it was close to perfect. “Nice.” She complemented, “Now do it again.”

This repeated for a while, she eventually taught him how to uppercut and hooks, then kicks. She didn’t even realized how late it got, nine o’clock.

“Since you know the basics, I’ll test you.” She walked over to the ring. Charles didn’t move and she stop while stepping through the rope. “You coming?” He seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and started walking to the ring.

“I’ll go easy on you, promise. Just try to use what you know.” She smiled setting herself into her stance.

“Doesn’t make me feel any better darling.” He smiled nervously, shakily getting into his own stance.

“You’ll be great, just trust yourself.” Atara tried to ease his nerves. “You ready?.” She asked.

“Not particularly.” Charles answered. She chuckled.

“Go!” She started the match, she waited for him to throw the first punch, he did eventually and she dodged it. “Anticipate where your opponent will go and make sure you have a second shot ready.”

“It’s a lot harder than you say.” Charles shot back frustrated.

“Don’t be like that already you’ve only thrown one punch.” She teased. He rolled his eyes and threw another punch, she dodged amit again but had to block the kick he almost landed on her side.

“Good job, you did it.” She praised. “Though I better fight back shouldn’t I?” She chuckled, getting slightly more serious. She threw a light punch that hit his side, making him move that way slightly. He went for a right hook and she ducked using his moment of unbalance to sweep his legs, causing him to fall onto his back.

He landed with a grunt and she straddled him to keep him down, pinning his arms above his head . “Do you think you know how to get out of your situation?” She asked grin wide, Charles was panting under her.

“Don’t know if I want to.” He smirked watching her cheeks turn a light rosy pink. She stayed stuck like that, her eyes boring into his, she leaned forward and kissed him. Immediately she pull back and stood up, his head followed her as to not break the kiss.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” She stressed.

“It’s fine if didn’t not want it.” He chuckled his own cheeks a rosy color.

“Oh god.” She complained before practically running out of the room.

“Wait!” Charles called out for her but she didn’t stop. He stood there for a few minutes just trying to process what just happened, before his heart started to hurt at her reaction, did she not like him?

꧁ ꧂

1918 words

[snowandwolves]

hey it’s your neighbrohood (i'm not even gonna fix that i like that lol) lengthy ask anon - i am having a shit day but thinking about summer in the lighthouse au with Ava in a tank top and tool belt made me feel better so thank you for that

i have more qs kinda a lot today bc i am just so done with this day but you can pick and choose which (if any!) to answer. hope you have a good weekend ❣️

any thoughts on how Chanel meeting Bea would’ve gone?

did Bea pre-plan to tell Ava at the lookout or did she spontaneously capitalize on Ava already going there?

whose bedroom in the lighthouse house did they sleep in most often?

has Bea seen a storm from the lighthouse before?

D gave Ava new shoes, but did she ever get a new backpack?

that brief reference to Shannon broke my heart - do you have thoughts on how she passed?

do you have thoughts on how Camila and Lilith got together? and how Lilith even learned/chose to barista?

did the “DIBS” moment just come to you in a moment of inspiration or something bc it still makes me giggle just thinking about it

speaking of writing, did you write each section linearly or did you jump around or something else?

your note in the epilogue sounded like you don’t read fic when you’re writing? what's on your to read list?

HI LENGTHY ASK ANON omg, sorry for the late response, it’s been busy and i need a year-long weekend without risking going broke 😂 been itching to respond to this so imma do that now 🥹

1. probably chanel just exposing ava like “so you’re the one she’s been losing brain cells for” and ava just slapping her elbow and being all “omg shut up i trusted you” and bea not wanting ava to feel embarrassed so she’d prolly say “she also has that effect on me” then chanel would stare at them blushing and then say something like “ok that’s adorable. i need a drink and you need to tell me more”

2. she’s definitely been DYING to say it, but then when ava told her that she’s going to the lookout, bea decided to do it there just to give ava a moment she won’t forget 🥺

3. ava’s! because bea’s room is suzanne’s and the things they get up to with a bed nearby is just,,, not for suzanne’s room 😂

4. i’d say yes! though she prolly didn’t intend to. i have it in my head that she just got stranded there while cleaning it and unintentionally gave herself a come-to-jesus moment 💀

5. backpack i think she bought for herself. for some reason, i also have it in my head that she’s in a group chat with her family (salvius clan + chanel) where she asks them for their opinions and everyone choosing the more expensive option and ava being like “pls i’d have to lose a kidney” and everyone in the group chat transferring her various amounts of money and ava just staring at her account like “thank god you’re all rich. now, i’m rich by association” 😂

6. this one, nope, i haven’t actually thought about. let’s say an accident? omg what if that’s a reason why mary doesn’t ride a motorcycle anymore…? it wouldn’t have been her fault but askdnskd ok i hate me 😭

7. so this one gave me a cute scene i ended up daydreaming about 🥹 cos what if camila taught lilith how to make drinks before she got formal training for it and start a cafe? what if, while in the process of making a cappuccino, camila just randomly tells her “i like you a lot”? what if lilith fumbles and accidentally burns herself and camila just giggles and takes lilith’s hand and takes care of it, just waiting for lilith to manage words? 😭 WHAT THEN

8. i definitely planned it to be as hilarious as possible but i also didn’t think i’d be using DIBS for it. that was a fun moment to write 😂

9. my writing process is kind of a mess. i do try to write linearly so i don’t have to worry about pacing and transitions and flow. but then i’m in the middle of work or folding my laundry or literally just eating and a scene/line/whole ass paragraph just comes to me vividly 😂 this is why i have my notes app perpetually open. i write the basics of anything that comes to me and then go back and figure out a way to use it if i can. this is also why i have v many fragments that didn’t make the cut 💀

10. idk if it’s just me but i find it hard to read fic and write my own at the same time 😭 so i have,,, a long list actually. literally anything that’s been published and completed in the last 8 months i’ll be reading 😂

anon, i hope your days have been better since you sent this. you deserve the kindest, gentlest, best days 🥺💙

[galar-abortion-clinic]

🍀🧠🥊🎓 For Jules, Mauly, and Rory! Just curious about these three!

(Jules is getting his own post since someone else asked about him, so stay tuned. Same twat time, same twat channel)

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Conceptually, both Mauly and Rory are two sides of the same coin. At first I only had Mauly, but I decided to extract a few traits from her and squelch those out into their own character so that her personality wouldn’t feel so totally neutered by incompetence. She’s a little more idealized, whereas Rory is my worst fear of what I could turn out to be, or how other people might perceive me

Mauly is impulsive, brash, self-serving, and arrogant. She’s unapologetically angry, horny, and human. Rory is all of those things, but deeply insecure and constantly overcompensating. He’s pathetic and he makes me sick. Basically he boils down to “sid vicious if he were a bit less of a dick, purely because he’s subdued by cowardice”

Design-wise? Kalos’ rendition of the Punk Guy/Girl trainer class, man. I fell in love instantly. Also this one specific tank girl page:

Good shit

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Mauly takes no shit. Sure, that might mean she leaves a bad taste in some people’s mouths, but she knows when she deserves to be treated better. Something I’ve always struggled with has been not standing up for myself because I’m worried it’ll hurt or inconvenience other people. Mauly says fuck those other people, It’s not my job to accommodate anyone else’s existence by minimizing my own. Her whole arc is about self-acceptance through ambivalence. “Even if i don’t love myself, i can’t change who I am. You’re not going to change me either, and you look stupid for trying”

Rory’s best use to me is catharsis. I’ve shoved all the shit I hate about myself into this guy and exaggerated it by queefzillion, and it feels reassuring to see him being knocked down a peg for behaving like a little wart. It also feels kind of nice when he still manages to find occasional kindness in spite of his many, many glaringly hideous flaws.

🥊 - What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Mauly was one of those kids who every adult in her life would describe as “so creative” and “a free spirit”, which is actually grown-up code for “this poor bastard’s gonna be a starving artist and we’re hiding our disappointment”. If she had the means to create more often, she’d have a lot of fun honing her craft and fully leaning into art as an outlet for her angst

Because she’s so hands-on and skilled at improvised patching and the like, she often gets stuck with repair responsibilities by the other schmucks she lives with. She doesn’t mind slapping duct tape over stuff several times over or whacking things with a hammer til it fits right, she just would prefer not being assigned that job by other people. Never tell her what to do

Rory’s nimble fingers don’t only make him a passable thief, but also a possibly-not-the-worst musician. He’s never played for anyone else, which might be why he kinda sucks, but it’s one of the few things he keeps to himself instead of bloating to give his delicate ego some padding. His songbook is loaded with edgy cringe, but its the sort of raw soul-bearing stuff that reminds you there’s a person in there. Not a great person, but a person

Anyway something he hates doing is uhhhhhh giving to charity,

🎓- How long have you had the OC?

Mauly’s been around ffffforrrrrr i wanna say maybe two years now? For a long time she was just an idea in my head, i didn’t wanna touch that idea til i knew exactly what i wanted to do with it

Rory’s my freshest OC, only been around for like a month. Not even. Could still use some fine tuning

Bonus: some VERY rough first drafts of Mauly that’re a little closer to the source material (excuse the positively grimy state of the paper, i dont take very good care of my sketchbooks)

[saucetail-hasanewblog]

OK so it is still just a wip but it is the story of pyotr nd dieter's first meeting :^]!!! I'll put under the cut lol

The moment I opened the door, a chill swept through my body. Compared to the inside of the house, the night was cold. To the point that it hurt. Although maybe it was aggravated by the fact I was only wearing a tank top. I had taken my leather jacket off a couple of hours ago, as all the beer I drank warmed my body a considerable bunch. Well, that and the fact that I was dancing. I didn’t want to sweat on the nicest jacket I own. It’s a true back-breaking task to wash these, you can’t just throw them on the washing machine, you know.

Closing the door, I took a few steps forward. Until the smell of cigarettes hit me. I smoke sometimes, but it’s more of a social activity for me. It’s very rare that I’ll smoke if it’s not offered to me first. Looking to each side, I try and figure out where it’s coming from. Took me a surprising amount of time, but I finally spotted someone sat down on the outside of the house. He looked nervous, seemingly not even noticing that I’m here. Or ignoring me.

Person that is sitting by themselves, seemingly lost in their own thoughts? Perfect time to introduce myself!

Changing my trajectory, I took some steps to the left and stopped by his side. I bent over a tad, to see if he would notice that I’m here. It took him a little while, but eventually he looked up. Careful and slow, perhaps so that his cigarette wouldn’t go out. He seemed surprised at my presence. The mysterious person had blue eyes, although they seemed almost completely gray. It’s not everyday you see someone with eyes like that.

- Hey.

He looked at me for quite some moments, analyzing. I let him do so. People typically do that to me. I think it’s the ear piercings. Using the opportunity, I do the same to him. In addition to having quite striking eyes, he has one of those short and round faces, which is not very common here in Germany. It’s kinda cute, you know? He does have a bit of a beard, but it is very sparse and only really on his chin. Almost as if he can’t grow a full one or just doesn’t want to commit. Well, I say that as if my beard in anything to stare in amazement at. It’s not that big, in reality, but it is fuller then what he has.

Then, maybe realizing how long we spent just staring at each other, his cheeks go red and he breaks eye contact. Smiling at the reaction, I prop my back on the wall.

- Uhm… Hello.

- Your name? - I ask.

- I’m… Ah, Pyotr. Anatolyevich. - After a long pause, he adds. - Ustrashkin.

- Well, if we’re being so formal… I’m Dietrich Wieland Gutermuth.

Pyotr looks off, but I know for a fact that his face must still be red. He takes a drag of his cigarette, then coughs. Fair, he took in a lot of smoke. I’ve dealt with shy people before, so his type of awkwardness isn’t an immediate turn off for me. Besides, his German is very heavily accented and stilted, so it’s definitely not his mother language. Our university isn’t famous for it’s exchange student program or anything, but we still get them sometimes. I can make an educated guess that he’s a Soviet. Although that I could easily glean from his name, so maybe I’m not a genius for deducting that much.

- I’m just joking. You can call me Dieter.

He doesn’t answer. Still shy, huh? No worries, I crack shy people wide open after a while. That sounded harsh. I don’t kill them. Only with kindness. Impulsively, I’m deciding this guy is gonna open up to me eventually, whether he wants to or not. Pyotr scratches the back of his neck.

- You’re from the Soviet Union, right? - I try to keep the conversation going.

He nods. Tired of standing up, I slide down the wall. My legs are all wobbly, but that’s because I spent at least an hour just standing around and talking to people. Plus the aforementioned dancing. And the beers. Which are all my own fault but I’m gonna blame the universe for my problems. Looking to my side, I can see him a little more clearly now. He sneaks a couple of glances at me, and I smile at him. Pyotr doesn’t return the gesture, but I don’t think it’s out of malice or anything. His cigarette is almost at it’s end. He reaches down and grabs a pack of them, which I hadn’t even noticed was there.

- You… You want one? - Pyotr turns his head to me, but still doesn’t quite look me in the eyes.

- Oh, I’d like that, yeah.

Reaching out, I take one. Social smoking and all that, you know. Since it was already ending, Pyotr takes the one he already had and snuffs it out on the floor. But seems he isn’t keen on just littering, so he just puts it in his pocket. Like a maniac. Man, it’s gonna get all dirty in there. He also takes another cigarette, which indicates to me he smokes for stress purposes. Pyotr is gonna develop some serious black lungs. Putting it between his teeth, he reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a lighter.

- Come closer. - He pretty much commands.

Huh. I stand there for a moment, a tad confused. Then, he turns to me and puts the lighter at the end of his cigarette. Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Well, more sense then whatever else I could have understood from that. I obey, and touch mine with his. Which turned out to put us such close proximity that my hair is almost caressing his face. Pyotr fumbles for a couple of seconds with the lighter, furrowing his eyebrows. Eventually he gets it, though. It’s nice being this close, but I have to pull out before it gets weird. He does the same, although I don’t think he even noticed how close we got. Not surprising, since he was the one who set it up in the first place. Or maybe he did it on purpose. Hm, would he do that? Not sure. I don’t really have the full personality profile of Pyotr the Soviet exchange student to figure this one out just yet.

Still, I inhale. Huh, interesting. This tastes different then what usual cigarettes do. Odd. Man, why does it taste like that? The smell isn’t different, so why is the taste? It’s not that it’s outrageously bad or anything, just very different. Well, I already put it in my mouth. I don’t think I have a choice except to keep smoking it. I look to the side, but Pyotr doesn’t seem bothered at all. Since he just set the pack down on the ground, I could see the brand. Some Soviet brand I don’t think I’ve heard of before. Typically not a good sign. Taking it out of my mouth to puff out the smoke, I go back to trying to get a conversation going.

- Which country?

- Huh? - He seems confused.

- Which country in the Soviet Union?

Pyotr seems surprised that I know what is technically very simple knowledge. He stops for a moment to think, takes a drag and looks down at his shoes. They’re quite formal, not exactly what I would call party attire. But what do I know? Every occasion is worthy of party attire for me.

- Russia.

- Oh, nice! - I say. - From Moscow, or Leningrad or something like that?

- Ah, well… No…

- Where, then?

- I don’t think that… You would know where it is.

- You can just tell me anyway, man.

- Uhm, ok… - He mumbled. - Chelyabinsk, it’s close to the Ural Mountains.

He said that as if I have any idea where those mountains are. I must admit, although I have many, many qualities, knowing geography is certainly not one of them. I nod my head, pretending I understand. Pyotr pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and taps on it, so that the ashy parts fell off. They fell all over his pants. Speaking of, they’re also awfully formal. I’m starting to think this man has no idea how to dress for a party. The only article of clothing that he was wearing which was normal was his sweater. A very different taste in fashion. I mean sure, I am a punk, which technically doesn’t have the most normal of fashion choices, but it is more typical than his little grandpa getup. In fact, this makes me curious.

- What’d you think about the party?

- Huh? Ah… Well… I didn’t… Come in. - He said, embarrassed.

- Why?

- I’m not… Uhm.

- Don’t really like parties?

- Ah… No.

- I see. - I said. - But why did you come, then?

Pyotr seems to contemplate for a while before answering.

- My… My uh… Boyfriend*…? Asked me to come and… I couldn’t really… Uhm, say no. - He stumbled through his own words. *Freund

Huh. It hasn’t been any longer then a couple of weeks that university started, and this shy Soviet is already scoring? Damn. I haven’t been this surprised since… Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been this surprised! You know, I’m quite fast to get interested in other people, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten my hopes dashed this quickly. I suppose I can’t be mean about this though, it’s not my fault that someone else also had interest in him. After my long, long seconds of silence, Pyotr finally turns to look at me in the face. His expression seemed equal parts scared and embarrassed.

- Did… Did I say something wrong? - Pyotr asked, his shoulders tense.

- No, not at all, it’s just… I’m just surprised is all.

- About what?

- Well… You know… - I gestured with my cigarette in hand, which spread ash around. - That with only a few weeks in Germany, you’re already dating.

- Dating? - He said, although it sounded more like a choke.

Looking at his completely red face for a couple of additional seconds, I have my own moment of confusion. Then, the gears in my head start turning. Oh. Ohohoh. Yeah, I think I quite understand what the mistake here was. I really didn’t want to make him feel bad, but I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. Quite a lot, even. Maybe too much. I’m just relieved, and a bit entertained. Putting my hand on his shoulder, I try to recover my breath so that I could explain what was going on to the poor guy.

- See, Pyotr… - I start. - That word you used? While it does mean what I think you meant, it can also be a word for… you know…

- I don’t know.

- A romantic partner.

What was once a face showing mixed feelings, became a stage for pure horror. He turned almost his full body to me and gestured something that was pretty much unintelligible.

- No! No! I meant friendship! Friendship! - He explained.

It was probably even meaner now, but I ended up laughing in his face again. To be honest, I think it’s his desperate reaction that made it more humorous. Because, really, it’s an easy mistake for a foreigner to make. I’m not gonna punish him for not being completely fluent in German, it would be ridiculous of me to do so. Yet, on the other hand, it is sorta fun. As the moments went on and I didn’t punish him for the crime of being a foreigner, Pyotr loosened up a little. I took my hand off his shoulder.

- It’s… Not that funny. - Pyotr said, but I could see the smallest hint of a smile in his face.

- It isn’t. But I thought it was.

He’s quite cute when he smiles. I find dimples really pretty on people, what can I say? I don’t really mention it in case I come onto him too hard, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking it. Pyotr puts his cigarette up to his mouth again. I do the same, although I notice that quite a bit of it is over. Without me even smoking it. Almost close enough to burn my finger. Probably because of the time we spent just talking. Although I can’t complain much about that. It’s really not that great.

- Who’s your friend? - I asked. - I might know him.

- Mattie, from the mechanical engineering course.

- Oooh. Real party animal, that one.

- Him?

- Yeah. Can't tell it because of that dopey look in his face, right?

- I guess so. - Pyotr chuckles.

If he is anything like me, he's probably thinking of his friend doing something stupid. Like doing a keg stand. Which I insult but don't get me wrong, it truly is a skill. Just not a very useful one. Although I might be just a little bit jealous because I myself can't do it.

[avaritia-ffxiv]

I’ve talked about this topic way back, and a bit further in this post, but they’re kinda overtaking my thoughts again so I’ll ramble a little.

Without making you read the prior rambles, it’s just me talking about how Saahe can be a Reaper despite having filled the tank for his whole life prior to that and how he would’ve had mixed feelings with letting others take hits for him instead of him taking hits for others.

But I can’t rn find if I’ve ever posted about that in relation to Sidurgu specifically? I know I’ve talked about it at poor Angoul ‘cause they get to hear me rave about my characters a lot, but I might’ve never put them up. That also tied more closely to his rp ‘verse, where I still have not figured how he would’ve become a Reaper, but I do want to make it canon there at some point. He wouldn’t have Thancred there, just Sidurgu.

And especially with Sidurgu it would be so, so hard for him to allow Sidurgu to fully take the role of tank, instead of sharing it with him. Not because he wouldn’t trust Sidurgu’s skills or because he would be overtly worried Sidurgu would get himself too hurt (or dead).

But just because he, rather understandably, does not enjoy seeing Sidurgu get hurt, even if that’s kind of the whole point. Making Sidurgu get hurt for him, just so he could deal more damage (and not get killed himself, DPS be a bit squishy), would not sit well with him. It’s avoidable. All he would need to do was keep doing the Dark Knight thing, and none of that would need to take place.

Except he already became a Reaper (oops), so now he’d just be wasting those new abilities if he never used them, and it is a different kind of might he’d have. It’d be novel and thrilling to take enemies down faster and in riskier maneuvers, addicting to deal so much damage that he could fell things before they felled him despite him being able to take so much less punishment.

But it would take many conversations before he was ready to try that role around Sidurgu instead of just by himself and I think ultimately what would prompt him to just do it would be not wanting to suggest he didn’t believe Sidurgu fully capable. He wouldn’t think that, but he would recognize it’d easily come off like that to Sidurgu no matter what Saahe tried to say to the opposite.

It’d take even longer before he was fully (or mostly) comfortable with it and could actually focus on his new role instead of spending half his energy angsting over not being able to share the damage with Sidurgu.

[pottersshead]

“...The Ring?”

Eddie Munson X Reader

Authors note: it’s been so long since I wrote something and I miss it. I came up with this scenario while I was trying to sleep the other day and I just had to put it somewhere! (Also I know this used to be a Harry Potter type blog but I’m adding Eddie in too because... it’s my blog and my rules🤗) (I also said I wouldn’t post this if yk... but I really enjoyed writing again!)

Summery: Eddie gives reader one of his rings with the promise they must wear it all the while they are a couple but when reader takes it off to have a shower while staying over at his trailer and he notices it on his bedside table expect some insecure!eddie. (Just image no Vecna or something idk I can’t do all the work😉)

Being at Eddies trailer was a second home for Y/N and they loved it! With Eddie’s uncle away a lot working it’s gave them lots of alone time, sometimes more then they knew what to do with, so what did they do? Absolutely nothing except cuddle in Eddie’s bedroom.

“I’m way too relaxed right now” Eddie said with an unlit cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, more for comfort then anything.

“Me too but I need to get up and have a shower” Y/N said while pushing themselves up off from Eddie’s bed and moving more towards his bathroom grabbing a towel and tying their hair up with the hair tie they had wrapped around their wrist and in one very swift motion. Eddie also got up and made his way to the kitchen grabbing some stuff out of the fridge and minding his own business. Y/N was looking in the mirror trying to wipe off any left over make up from the morning, considering it was summer most of their make up had been washed off with sweat already making their job so much easier. While wiping off the make up they noticed they still had all of their jewellery (one of their items being the ring Eddie gave them as a promise) on remembering to take it off before showering not wanting to damage it. They picked it up and moved it back in to Eddie’s room and leaving on the slightly stained bedside table and going back to the bathroom and starting up the shower.

Eddie was sat, beer in one hand, with both arms around the back of the couch in a tank top and some shorts. After taking a deep sigh he realised he left his lighter in his bedroom… so he got back up grumbling and groaning, muttering things under his breath, complaining that he has to get up again. As soon as he stepped through the doorway he noticed the ring on the table and his heart broke.

February 1986

It had been a year (almost two) since Y/N and Eddie started dating. They had just gotten back to Eddies trailer after spending the day with Robin and Steve. Both Eddie and Y/N were buzzing from the excitement of the day as they got out the van and opened the door to the trailer. In the heat of the moment Eddie turned around to Y/N and held a ring out in front of him. Y/N was taken aback by his sudden change in mood.

“Y/N today is the most fun I’ve had in a long fucking time and it made me realise... you’re kinda perfect for me” he stuttered our trying not to sound too cheesy or soppy aside from the fact that it was genuinely also hard for him to say as he’d never felt like this before.

“Now I want you to keep this ring and wear it for as long as we are together as some type of symbol...” he mumbled as he scratched the back of his neck with anxiety. As he saw Y/N start to laugh and the tears they held back then escape down their cheeks, he held the ring back out again placed it on their middle finger on their left hand (so it was near to their ring finger but not enough to look like a proposal)

Eddie sat on the edge of his bed with restless legs holding the ring in his hand waiting for Y/N to finish in the shower. As soon as he heard the shower turn off he was stood outside the bathroom door waiting for them to be able to talk.

“You took the ring off?” Eddie said to Y/N less than an inch away from their face inundating them with worry and questions while taking poor Y/N by surprise.

“Yes baby, I was having a shower. I took off all my jewellery” Y/N said placing a soft hand on the side of his face trying to console him proving to him that’s it’s okay.

“But we promised you wear it while we are together?” Eddie said back almost on the verge of tears but with a slight stern tone in his voice.

“Eddie, baby? I didn’t know you were so serious about it. We’re not breaking up, I love you, we’re still together!” Y/N said with a gentle look and slight chuckle trying to reassure the man in front of them.

“Are you sure?” Eddie quietly replied looking back up at Y/N with big brown puppy eyes while slowly sliding the ring back on to Y/N’s finger.

“Yes baby I’m very very sure” Y/N replies taking his face in to their hands and giving him a gentle kiss filled with so much love and emotion.

The two moved back in to Eddies room placing themselves on the end of Eddies bed with his head tucked into Y/Ns shoulder with tears slowly sliding down his face.

“I’m really sorry baby. I didn’t realise it meant so much to you” Y/N said with the most gentle voice he’s ever heard.

“It’s okay my love but please just promise me again that you won’t ever take it off again...I’m being serious this time” Eddie replied with a slight chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“I know Eds don’t you worry, I won’t do it again” needless to say Y/N never did.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Overwhelming Work (Avengers X Reader)

Characters: Avengers X Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: School stress, mention of prior violence and injury

Request: Could i request an avengers x teen reader where the reader is just getting overwhelmed with school work and they get really frustrated at everyone and all the avengers notice that they seem really stressed and they help out?? ur awesome btw (also this is the first request ive made so idk if its any good) + hello!! i have a random request: avengers x teen reader where something happens at school (idk) and they like distance themselves from the team and kinda stop eating and taking care of themselves but when the team asks if reader is ok they kinda just like run?? but then theres a happy ending?? idk if this is a good request but lol

There had been an air of tenseness as half of the team had arrived back home from a mission- not from the ones who had been in the line of duty, but the ones who had been home, safe and sound. “We’re so glad you’re here.” Tony sighed with relief at the sight of Natasha, Clint, Steve, Bruce and Wanda. 

“Why? What happened?” Bruce worried immediately, thinking someone was hurt, or something awful happened while they were gone. 

“It’s Y/N.” Thor answered shortly, a worried, and slightly scared expression on his face, an expression that was alien, and terrifying in it’s own way. Not much scared the god, so what the hell had scared him in relation to you? It immediately put the team on high alert, and their immediate concern above it all was you. 

You were the newest avenger, and your addition to the team had been sudden and a surprise- you were a teenager thrust into the superhero life by developing your own ability of telekinesis. The change had been hard on you- forced away from familiarity, and with these new powers you seemingly had no control over. Wanda had been your main trainer in trying to handle them, but your capability seemed to yo-yo between being near non-existent to nearly killing the Hulk when you nearly crushed him with a Tank when he came charging too close for comfort. Despite all that though, the team understood you were just a kid, and you were scared and trying your hardest, and they had all started to work together to help you.

“What happened?” Steve demanded, stepping forward, looking around at the small group- Thor, Tony, Sam, Rhodey and Vis- Wait. “Where’s Vision? Is he with them?” He inquired. 

“He’s trying to help them, but-” Rhodey started to explain, before several bangs close together, distinctly being objects hitting walls, do doubt being the result of your power, interrupted him. All eyes looked in the direction, and after a moment, Vision phased through the wall, looking deflated. 

“No luck?” Sam asked him, Vision shaking his head. Sam turned back to Steve. “Y/N’s been like this not long after you left. They just… We don’t know. They won’t talk to us, and whenever we try to talk to them, they lash out. They nearly decapitated me the other day with a plate.” 

“Alright… Clint?” Steve asked, turning to the blonde man. Clint didn’t seem phased- it made sense to call on him for help, he was a father after all, he knew how to talk to kids and teens, and he’s used that knowledge before in the past to help you settle down, and so without another thought he moved in the direction of your bedroom down the hall. 

“Do you have any idea on what could have made them act like this? When did they start acting like this?” Natasha inquired. 

“We have no idea, they won’t tell us anything. It started on the Monday after you left- they came home from school and just walked straight past us all and locked themselves in their room. Didn’t even come out for dinner. It’s been like that since.” Vision explained. 

“Well, it’s probably related to school.” Wanda noted. 

“You think?” Tony asked. “What could have happened that they wouldn’t tell us and wasn’t bad enough that the school wouldn’t call us?” He asked. 

“Kid’s don’t really like telling teachers that they’re getting bullied, or that something is wrong. I’d know.” Steve pointed out. “They could be getting bullied- that’s unfortunately likely.” 

“Especially with the powers and already feeling different.” Wanda added. “Kids can be cruel.” 

“And unfortunately the education system isn’t exactly up on catching it, never mind stopping it.” Bruce also added. Rhodey whispered a curse, before he paused to think. 

“Clint’s been gone a while.” He noted. Silence filled the air, trying to hear for anything, but there was nothing. 

“Well, I guess silence is better than nothing?” Bruce suggested. 

“Not necessarily- their powers developed and they choked me by accident.” Thor responded. “When they realised what was happening and they were able to stop it, they apologised and they hid away even more.” 

“Shit- Wanda, might need you.” Steve said, acting quick and starting to run down the hallway, closely followed by Wanda and then the others. Steve got to your door first, seeing the paintings and decorations on the walls if the hallway had been knocked down, some of the framed shattered. Steve assumed it had been from a prior incident- he would have heard it if they’d fell while they’d been here. He stopped, putting his ear to the door to try and hear anything- While he was presuming the worst, he also kept an open mind, and the last thing he wanted to do was burst in there and make it all worse. Wanda approached, her hands in front of her, creating a ball of red energy between her palms, ready to subdue you and knock you out if necessary, but Steve held an arm out, stopping her. The team arrived as well, and they all stopped and waited for direction from the Captain. That’s when they heard it. 

Sobbing. The sobs were ones they could identify as yours- they’d heard them before when you’d had incidents and had accidentally hurt someone, usually curling up in a corner and sobbing out apologies after apologies until the person you’d hurt assured you they were fine and you were forgiven. You were a good kid, they all knew it, and they never held it against you. But right now, sobbing wasn’t a good thing to hear. 

“Hey- it’s okay! It’s okay, we can fix this.” The sound of Clint’s voice assuring you immediately put everyone at ease- he had the situation under control. Wanda lowered her hands, physically relaxing, happy she wouldn’t have to fight you like had had to do in the past. “Why haven’t you told the other’s about this? Why not Tony, he could help.” Clint’s voice was heard again. Everyone looked back at Tony, who looked just as confused on how he could have helped. 

“Because it’s embarrassing. And it’s not just the homework- it’s all of it. I’m struggling with everything, and I feel like I’m 10 steps behind everyone else and I’m paying for it.” 

“Well, that gives us something to work with.” Sam whispered, everyone’s attention going from being at your door, to resting against the walls of the hallway, mostly arms crossed. 

“So it’s not bullying, but it is school.” Natasha noted.

“Sounds like they’re struggling with their classes and they’re behind.” Vision deduced. 

“And unfortunately it makes sense they wouldn’t reach out to tell us- We know them, they want to make us proud and do better. They wouldn’t want to tell us they were struggling.” Wanda pointed out. 

“Okay, well how do we help them now?” Thor asked. 

“You can start by not eavesdropping.” Clint responded, making several of the group jump, turning to see him coming out of your bedroom, pulling you along as you looked sheepish and a little embarrassed, and of course teary eyed. 

“Sorry Y/N, we were worried and want to help. Are we guessing right?” Steve asked you, and you nodded. 

“What’s going on exactly? You’re behind?” Tony asked, clearly want to fully understand- he was the one who was the first emergency contact for the school, and the one who usually went to parent-teacher conferences as he’d taken on the education section of your life. It was important to know. 

“I… I don’t really know how it started, I thought things were fine, but on Monday we got report cards and reviews from our teachers, and all my teachers noted I had a lot of absent days and was struggling to pay attention on classes, so they’ve been giving be booklets to do at home… but it’s for every class, and they’re huge, and I’ve got to do my usual classes along with them and homework, and I… I don’t have time to do it, and I’ve tried missing a few hours of sleep and eating to catch up but then I’m even more tired and distracted in class, and it just feels like a never ending cycle… I don’t know what to do.” You admitted to them. 

“Well that makes sense… how many classes is that?” Rhodey asked. 

“7… that’s a lot, no wonder you’re overwhelmed, kid.” Sam answered.

“You’d think they’d organise that better- or on another note- why didn’t they call us to tell us?” Tony questioned, immediately going into his pocket to get his phone. “Give me a minute.” He pardoned himself, walking back the way he came. 

“Or 10. He’s gonna rip them a new one.” Clint commented quietly, making you crack a faint smile. “In the meantime, how about we sit down with all this work, see who can help with what, and we’ll see if we can speed through some of that work?” He suggested. 

“Let’s start with Science, hey? I can get you through that in 30 minutes max.” Bruce offered. The entire group watched you light up again- the kid they knew finally coming back to them, nodding excitedly, and going to grab your booklets. 

“Good job Clint.” Steve complimented, but Clint merely shrugged it off. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

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[shreddedparchment]

Perennial Pt.18

All Night Long

07/03/2022

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2,304

Warnings: smut, language, fluff, Bucky's metal arm

A/N: We all need reader's shop to reopen so she can get back to making pretty flower bouquets. On a different note, this is my first bit of smut in a hot minute. haha I don't know how it reads and I kinda feel like it's too short. Anywho, enjoy! Let me know what you think! xoxo

PLEASE do NOT repost, translate, or copy my fics to other sites or blogs!!

You're famous. Well, not on your own merit. You're famous for dating Bucky.

You find yourself happy that the shop is closed for the expansion as a lot of people loiter there for the first few days.

Bucky doesn't have it easy either. He's asked about you every time he goes out and often gets well wishes which is sweet.

"I hope you and the flower shop girl never break up."

The hopeless romantics of the world are so pleased that the Winter Soldier has found love. And aside from some intrusive questions about how your relationship started, it isn't unpleasant to deal with the new added fame.

Sometimes you catch Bucky worrying but what about he won't say and he makes you forget easily with some kisses and…other stuff.

Like his fans, you're pretty happy too.

Despite all of the attention, at this moment, all you really want is Bucky’s.

Coming to one of the dinner parties at the tower isn't as distracting as you'd hoped and all you can think about is getting Bucky back home.

All you can think about lately is getting him naked and you chalk it up to the honeymoon phase of your newly formed relationship but also, he's so freaking hot.

He seems distracted too, barely paying attention to whatever Sam and Steve are saying as they all sit around a cards table.

Bucky’s hand is loose around his cards but the way he strokes the thick paper's edge with his metal pointer finger has you biting your lip.

“You hear me?” Sam asks, his voice carrying over to your seat beside Rhodey who is going on about some mission with a tank and dropping it from the sky or something.

You’re not paying attention.

“Buck?” Steve is quieter but you can see him mouth the nickname.

Both of them follow Bucky’s eyeline and you shyly look away, somewhat flustered at being caught gazing at your boyfriend.

You're hoping they can't see where your thoughts are.

Your stomach flutters at the word boyfriend.

Every time you think it, it feels like a dream. Your boyfriend!

“I guess he’s too famous now to pay us any mind, Steve.” Sam sighs, speaking loudly enough again that you can hear him.

You however, turn your eyes back on Rhodey and Tony who are now arguing about how the tank story needs to be taken out of Rhodey’s rotation of party stories.

“You tell it every time I throw a party. Who here hasn’t heard that story? Can’t you add something? A love story? Maybe you sweep into some castle and steal a kiss from some hot little princess?”

“That wouldn’t be accurate to what happened Tony.” Rhodey deadpans.

“Have you always been this boring?” Tony asks him.

“Have you always been this annoying?” Rhodey counters.

Across the room Steve has leaned back in his seat, arms crossed as he nods.

“I always knew one of you would abandon the team for fame. I never thought it would be Bucky.”

When Bucky doesn’t look away from you as you steal another peek, Sam reaches out and slaps his shoulder.

“How’s it feel to be famous for hooking up with the flower girl, Barnes?”

Something about the phrase “hooking up with the flower girl” gets Bucky’s attention and he finally turns to look at Sam with a somewhat dazed expression.

“What?” he asks, voice slightly high.

Sam smiles and shakes his head before giving a nod in your direction.

“Man, why don’t you just go get your girl and get outta here? Dinner’s over and Tony won’t miss the two of you. He’s too busy fighting with Rhodes.”

Steve looks over at them and you follow his gaze to see Rhodey and Tony have gotten to their feet and are moving towards the pool table now bickering about who’s got the better break.

Apparently they don’t have to tell him twice. You see him rise from the seat, dropping his cards to flop onto the table face up.

“You had a straight?!” Sam calls out in shock but Bucky is focused. Winning hand be damned.

You turn to look up at him as he reaches you and he offers it to you, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

“Won’t it be rude to leave this early?” you look around but everyone is having too much fun just hanging out to pay you two any real mind.

Steve and Sam have already gotten up to join Tony and Rhodey at the pool table.

“Nah, come on. Let’s get outta here.”

You take Bucky’s hand and he pulls you to your feet before disappearing off to get your coat while you find Pepper and say bye. The party was great and you can’t wait to text Kamala tomorrow about how you had dinner and drinks with the Avengers but you are so ready to get Bucky home.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tickles along your thigh bring goosebumps across your skin as you try to ignore the way Bucky’s fingers find just the right spots between your legs. He’s not touching you fully yet, just tracing small shapes into the soft jiggly flesh of your thighs as he slides his hand up and down slowly sliding closer and closer to your sweet spot.

If you had been wearing pants, this would be much more difficult for Bucky to do.

As it is, your short black floral party dress gives him easy access and just as you’re about to readjust your coat around your chilly arms, Bucky’s fingers make purchase and he runs his middle finger up and down your soaked panties.

“Bucky,” you beg, reaching down to grab hold of his wrist as his searching drives your legs apart a bit more.

“You were so good with everyone tonight,” he tells you, voice so low that you feel it in your chest.

The praise has an unexpected effect on you and you throw your head back against the seat of the car wishing this ride was over already.

There’s the added bonus that the driver up front is on the phone so he’s not paying the two of you any mind.

You peek at him but Bucky’s probing finger brings your attention back down as he pushes your panties aside and slips his tip into the aroused mess between your legs. Gasping quietly, you reach up to put your hand over your mouth as the slightly colder temperature shocks you for a moment. You can feel how wet you are and it’s so embarrassing.

Again you glance at the driver but Bucky scoots closer and takes his hand back only to wrap his left arm around your shoulders and as he leans in to kiss your temple, he slips his right hand between your legs to resume his fondling.

“I’ve been wanting to touch you all night long,” he whispers for you, sliding his finger into you slowly as he uses his thumb to rub slow circles around your clit.

“Bucky,” you beg again, turning your head to look at him.

He licks his lips but doesn’t kiss you, instead he stares at you as he pumps his finger into you, watching your mouth widen as he pulls you closer and closer to a climax.

He keeps his movements small and contained, turning to almost face his body towards you to shield his doings from the driver should he turn and look.

“You’re so wet for me, sugar,” he tells you, rubbing his nose against yours as he speeds up, slipping a second finger inside of you as he uses his palm to press against your clit.

You shut your eyes, willing yourself to keep quiet as the sounds of your arousal get louder. It's unmistakable, but is it loud enough for the driver to hear?

“Come for me, sugar.” Bucky demands.

“Fuck…” you whine, opening your eyes to glare at him for bringing you to this point in the back of a cab.

He smirks, and presses a little more against you, curling his fingers up just right and the dam bursts.

You squeeze his wrist, digging your nails into his skin without control as you come undone in his arms.

You gasp and he breathes with you, mouths open as he watches you fall to pieces.

You tremble and shake as he overstimulates you then lovingly pulls his fingers out of you and fixes your underwear.

“That’s my good girl,” he says and you grit your teeth against the high you’re riding.

How the hell can he tell you these things with a straight face?!

“I hate you,” you tell him, more eager than before to get him back to his bed.

Without warning he slips his fingers into his mouth, tasting you slowly before drawing them out as he savors it.

“You gotta say it like you mean it, kid.” He smiles and leans in to give you a peck as the cab slows and parks.

Bucky pays the man then exits on his side before moving around to help you out from yours, on the surface he's back to being the gentleman you know and love.

You very nearly buckle as you stand, legs weak after his fun, but he catches you and helps you straighten up.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you," says the lewd devil underneath.

You shake your head, reaching down to take his metal hand.

“Oh, no. I’ve got you Barnes, for the rest of the night. And you’re gonna pay for that little stunt.”

“I hope you’re charging me interest.” Bucky chuckles and despite your threat, you’re fairly sure that he’s going to get the upper hand again.

Honestly? You’re gonna let him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky has you pinned to the island, his hands yanking at the sash behind your dress before he starts to fumble with the buttons, exposing your back slowly.

With each new button he leans down to kiss your skin, his tongue making sloppy circles as your own hands fumble with the belt of his pants.

The clink of it coming undone is deafening.

Finally you get his button and the zipper, a skill you didn't know you had having never undressed someone behind your back before.

"Screw the dress Bucky just hurry up and fuck me," you urge him impatiently while trying to push his pants down.

Bucky abandons your dress as he pushes them to the ground.

He flicks your skirt up, underwear long since left on the hallway floor on your way in.

You can feel his hips press against your cheeks and then the hard heated bulb of his cock pressing and sliding against your lower lips as he lubricates before lining himself up.

He presses slowly and your cunt can't help but shape itself to him. He groans as he pushes in further, pressing his hand into the center of your back as you lay forward against the counter and rise to the tips of your toes as he fills you completely.

He stays there, buried within you for what feels like ages.

"Bucky…" You plead, desperate.

"You feel so good, sugar."

His words only make it worse and you squirm.

Bucky slides back and then thrusts forward, the slap of your ass against his hips is soft but your moans are anything but quiet.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry and grip the counter.

You can feel your legs shaking as he pushes into you over and over his hands gripping your hips so tight yet slipping on the fabric of your dress.

His breathing grows heavy and rough. He leans forward, lips kissing your back again as his massive body engulfs you from behind.

His hands slide up along your sides before hooking into the front of your dress and he yanks it down, exposing your breasts which he quickly cups and massages with an urgent fervor.

He pulls you up off of the counter, your back arching as he fucks you hard but fondles your chest and tweaks your nipples into hard round pebbles.

"Kiss me, sugar," Bucky pleads and it surprises you how much emotion is in his voice.

There's real desire there. He really wants a kiss.

Turning your head to the side to look back at him, he leans forward and wraps his metal hand around your neck holding you in place as he dips down, tongue first, to meet your kiss.

There's so much happening and so many sensations your mind is overwhelmed. His cock is hard and relentless, his hand on your breast demanding, his mouth eager, and his metal hand so tight to hold you still.

"I'm coming," he whispers, leaning his forehead against the side of your head as his hips move deeper and his flesh hand grips your hip.

"Oh, Bucky…" You whimper, reaching for his wrists to hold yourself up.

"Come for me sugar. I'm gonna fill you up," he grunts and it's too much.

You shudder as he continues to plunge in and out, your body shaking against his as you come undone again.

You can feel your body go limp but Bucky thrusts a few more times before you feel him spill into you. The heat makes you shiver and he falls forward with you beneath him, pinned to the counter as he gasps for breath.

"More," you swallow hard, catch your breath and push against his large form.

Turning you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his lips slowly.

"I want more," you tell him and he smiles, stunning you with dazed steel blue eyes.

"Anything you want, kid. I can go all night for you."

He stoops down and hooks his arms behind your thighs and lifts you up onto the counter before settling between your legs again.

"Just say when," he warns and tears you open again.

[shootingstarwritings]

Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling with some Feelings

“Wh-What are you doing…?" Ahmed moaned as a trail of slime slid into his singlet. Just the very touch caused his body to react with an eruption of pleasurable waves. He collapsed onto the locker room floor, slowly humping the floor to get any sort of friction on his hardening dick. "Haa… aahhhh...haaa…! This isn't… right." Ahmed bit down on his lip before letting down another desperate moan. So caught up in this invasive bliss that he didn't even care when the slimy creature squeezed itself into his leaking cock. Instead, he welcomed it. Thoughts of championships and the thrill of victory soon vanished beneath a blanket of ecstasy. "Ah! Ahhh! H-Holy fuck, I'm—!"

Ahmed wasn't able to finish as his body yielded to the enigmatic invader. His vision swam and he felt dizzy until he collapsed on a puddle of his precum. Ahmed's body convulsed on the ground, unable to even call for help, until he suddenly became rigid, back arched as if mid-orgasm. Then, he relaxed. Slowly, he rose from the ground and took a peek inside his wrestling singlet. "Damn kid, you got a sweet-ass body," he said, stretching his body and letting out a satisfying grunt as something popped. His more reserved personality and mannerisms were completely gone, as though it was someone else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna stay here forever. Just long enough to throw that match with Clay tonight. Can’t let my son lose that scholarship. You understand, right?” Adjusting his singlet again, the man in possession of Ahmed, Jerry, let out a sensual groan. “Ohhh, and maybe take advantage of this little body for a while. Not every day an old fart like me can be a young and sexy college stud for a few hours."

There was still time until the match, and considering how it would just be throwing the match to Clay, it wouldn’t take much effort. For now, Jerry could relax and enjoy what Ahmed's body had to offer. Grinning, he squeezed Ahmed's meat through the fabric and threw his head back in a low moan. "You're so lucky, being so sensitive. C'mon, let's get real acquainted."

Clay’s father had to struggle to keep his erection down as Clay seriously manhandled him the whole match. Each of Ahmed’s nerves seemed to be turbo-charged and Clay’s rough hands only seemed to aggravate that. With every slam and struggle—every time flesh met flesh with a flash of friction, Clay’s father found himself growing flushed. Didn’t even have to try that hard to throw, his over-horned body did the job for him.

Was it the spell or perhaps something more? Either way, soon Jerry found himself pinned to the mat with his son sneering down at him. The ref called the final point, and that was it. Jerry walked back to the locker rooms, ignoring the calls from his coach and friends. He couldn’t risk anyone catching on to his lack of disappointment.

To make sure the locker room would be empty, Jerry took an extremely long shower—checking his goods one last time before he would have to leave and return home to congratulate his son. Towel around his waist, he made his way over to the locker only to meet a meaty arm blocking his way. 

"Gotta say, kinda disappointed in your performance today, Ahmed," Clay said with a glare.

“Oh, Clay! Uh, wh-what can I say? Performance anxiety,” Jerry said, shrugging.

Clay tilted his head in confusion. “The hell’s happened to you? All jumpy and squirrely.” He took a step forward, cornering his father against the lockers. “You sick or something? Honestly looking real weird.”

Swallowing, Clay’s father said, “Um, I suppose you just have the magic touch,” he said, mind racing to come up with a lie that would be somewhat believable. “Body got all hot and cold with you manhandling me like that.” Jerry prayed that his face and ears weren’t turning as red as he thought they were.

Clay nodded to himself while squinting as if deciphering a difficult piece of text. "That so…?” Hoping that was enough, Jerry began to walk away. However, Clay slammed both of his arms against the lockers, pinning his father completely. “All you had to do was ask,” Clay whispered, his incredulous look turning into one of passion. Without a word, he leaned and kissed Jerry on his borrowed lips. Too shocked to even fight, Jerry leaned back and shut his eyes. What did this rush of passion mean? It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open.

Caught in this stream of passion, Jerry met Clay's kiss with equal aggression. It was as if he was possessed by whatever sentiments Ahmed had locked away deep inside of his subconscious. Either way, Jerry couldn’t even bother trying to resist the youthful hormones that danced in every inch of his hunky, borrowed body.

“Damn, you taste real fine,” said Clay, leaning away to stare at the giddy, bubbly mess that was Jerry. “Your lips feel so nice. Bet they’d be even better wrapped around my dick,” he said, slapping his thigh as he said so. Jerry glanced down and saw his son’s fully erect cock straining against the confines of the singlet. Wordlessly, he nodded and got down on his knees. The taste was so salty, but he didn’t mind it at all. Hearing his son’s pleasured moans and the cock threatening to unhinge Ahmed’s jaw was enough to get Jerry’s own dick hard.

“Make me see white,” Jerry breathed as he drew back with a pop. He spread his legs, trying to show as much of his ass he could. “Fuck me hard, Clay. I don’t think I can live without that cock inside of me once.”

“Say no more.” With a grunt of effort, Clay lifted Jerry up and placed him down onto one of the benches. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentleman-y like.” Leaning up to steal another sensual kiss, Clay teased the rim of Ahmed’s hole with his cockhead. Jerry moaned and bit down on his lips. He took a few breaths, trying to relax, before just leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hold on, relax," whispered Clay, using a finger to loosen him up. "Got some lube in my locker. Give me a sec."

“You have what?” Jerry exclaimed as Clay briefly walked off. “H-How often do you do this here.”

Once Clay returned, he just grinned and said, “Enough.”

Though Jerry wanted to continue asking his son, the finger that penetrated him had another idea. Jerry, nearly cross-eyed, immediately tightened as a reflex. He leaned back, moaning like a slut as Clay slipped in another finger. Then another. “F-Fuck, I-I’m fucking cumming!” Jerry shouted as his dick erupted with shot after shot of pent-up aggression.

“Damn, came from just fingering?” Clay grinned. “Hope you still got fuel in the tank, Ahmed. I still haven’t got a chance to shoot my shot.”

Breathing heavily, Jerry nodded as he spread his legs even further. Despite his climax abating, the sensual haze in his mind didn’t leave. Instead, he felt as though he could cum again and again that night. “I’m still not satisfied. Split me in half, Clay!” He moaned. Although the more logical part of Jerry's mind screamed and begged, he didn't give a shit. He just wanted this hunky hole filled and his son's cock was the one thing that could fix that.

Clay wasted no time. He spread Jerry as much as he cut and gave a slow, experimental thrust. When Jerry didn't scream, he slowly picked up the pace. "Mm, yeah. Nrgh, fuck yeah," he grunted with every thrust. There was no reason to go so quick that it would take away from the passion. As promised, he was gentle with strong, rhythmic thrusts. Jerry met each one with the same rhythm. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as Clay's cock filled him—as though Jerry was finally complete. With this body and this cock inside of him, he was reaching Nirvana.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, Jerry noticed Clay’s core tightening. His face was flushed and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m—nggh—I’m gonna blow my load. Want me to cum inside?” Jerry quickly nodded. Clay grinned. “Good answer.” With renewed vigor, Clay continued plowing into Jerry as he babbled nonsense. “C’mon, Ahmed. Scream for me.” He said, slapping Ahmed’s quivering thighs.

“Oh my god,” said Jerry, covering his face to hide the tears. He was elated and embarrassed all at once. His own offspring was smashing him and all he could do was moan and allow it to happen. It had been years since he had sex this good, and he knew that Ahmed felt the same. No, for Ahmed it was even more intense. Somehow, Jerry understood that Ahmed had never had sex before. Now, at that moment, Jerry was losing his virginity for Ahmed. With that in mind, Jerry could feel his climax swiftly approaching.

“I'm gonna nut! I'm gonna—MMM!" Jerry stopped as Clay suddenly embraced him with a long, intense kiss. Unable to handle the heat and the passion any longer, Jerry climaxed. Both of their bodies became drenched in semen, but neither of them cared. All they wished was to taste as much of themselves in that kiss.

Sorry, Ahmed, thought Jerry, lemme just stay in this body for a little while longer. I’ll leave tomorrow in the morning. Promise.

[ramp-it-up]

It Takes Two

Pairing: Soft Dark!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings:  18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, cheating, breakups, rehab, recovery, deception, lies, celibacy, manipulation, wedding planning, semi-public explicit, rough, sex, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, dubiuous con (b/c of deception). Darkish! Scott Evans. This is not proofread!

A/N: @lovebittenbyevans gave me a great idea about still dealing with Chris when commenting on The One.  I thought that the Chris in that fic could really go left and get pretty Dark and dirty. And then.... 

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Chris cheating on Y/N …

That made me think up this fic. It is a sequel to The One. I hope you like it!

-----

You left him.

You flew to Montreal to surprise him on set, trench coat and lingerie and everything, and when you opened the door to his trailer, you saw Heidi on her knees giving Chris a blowjob.

You cussed him out, threw the ring back in his face and turned around and left. 

You blocked his number, moved out of his house and cut off all contact.  You were done.

The audacity of Chris being indignant about your warnings about Heidi when he was boning her all along.

You loved Scott, but you had to cut him off too after he tried to explain that Chris was drunk when you found him, and was going to rehab to deal with his issues. 

 It was classic celebrity bullshit and you didn’t have time for it.

You decided to center yourself, and swear off all relationships and sex. You wanted to purge your mind of all that weighed you down. 

You concluded that love, sex, and Chris Evans made you feel heavy as fuck. 

You moved to New York City. It was far enough away from Chris and your folks in Houston to give you some peace. 

You could still run your business and even think about a storefront.  It was the perfect location to live your best life, eat healthy, exercise, socialize and network. 

You fell in love with yourself, and you didn’t think much about Christopher Robert Evans at all.

Only every time you went on IG or Twitter, even though you blocked him and his hashtags.  And every time you went to Target, because his fucking movies and merchandise were everywhere. 

But you were cool, because you were doing you. You weren’t looking for love.

Of course, that’s when it found you.

Six months after you left Boston, you were at a natural beauty products expo in Brooklyn hawking your wares.  

Your business had taken off, with almost a half million dollars in sales, and you were being interviewed by a major news outlet of color when one of the correspondents caught your eye. 

You flirted, exchanged numbers and ended up going on a date. In another three months you were engaged to him.  

Kevin Watts made you feel safe, protected and loved. And he wasn’t just after sex. He was well off, and secure in himself and you.  It just felt right. 

When Kevin proposed, it was just you and him at your favorite restaurant. So romantic. 

Not like the rowdy family 4th of July party at which Chris asked you to marry him last year, in front of both your parents.

The laughter and the joy was just a little much. 

This was perfect. You didn’t miss Chris at all. You set about planning your wedding with a profound sense of peace and safety.  

You and Kevin were meant to be.

----

Chris was nothing without you.

Nothing but an award winning actor and producer, a multi-millionaire and founder of a major organization dedicated to bringing opposing political viewpoints together. 

All of that was cool, and it kept him going, but when he lost you, he lost his motivation.

Chris didn’t take any more roles after the sequel with Heidi, and he dumped her post haste. He did enter rehab and realized that he depended way too much on alcohol to dull his emotions. 

He got drunk off his ass when he was away from you because he missed you so much, and that led to him letting Heidi think that she could have him.

She’d had him physically, but never his heart. Or his mind. You owned those.

Chris followed your business closely, and was proud of your success. 

Of course he followed your social media on burner accounts and saw that you were doing well. 

You looked like you enjoyed being single and seemed healthy and happy.

He couldn’t ask for anything more for you.

Except to be his again. 

Chris was just biding his time for your reunion, deciding to give you a year before he made his move. 

Now he felt every emotion, and he knew that you must still love him too.

You just needed to realize that your life would be even better with him back in it.

The year apart would be just punishment for what he’d done to you, and when you came back together, it would be better than before.

Everyone speculated on his bachelorhood, wondering if he would settle down, speculating and gossiping about who he was with, but he just played coy and kept quiet.

No one would know that he was yours and yours alone, and that you were still his.  

You just didn’t know it.

But you weren’t going along with the plan that you didn’t know about. 

About seven months into his self-imposed purgatory, a complication started popping up on Chris’s feed. 

Kevin. 

And a couple of months after that, a post of a proposal, in a restaurant.

The asshole probably didn’t even ask or involve your folks.  Chris was in a rage for a week. 

He almost started drinking again, but as he got ready to drive to the liquor store, Kevin’s face flashed on his screen doing a report on the election.

Instead of making him even more angry, he smiled, elated at the thought that came to him.

Chris had a new plan, and it was going to be even better than before.

-----

The last three months had been a whirlwind, and you never thought it would turn out this way.  

You were planning your wedding with your mother, discussing the seating at the reception, and you deciding where Chris Evans and his date would sit.

What a time to be alive.

Your mother only let it slip a couple of times that you should be marrying Chris, but for the most part, she kept it cute.

You explained to her that everything was squashed between you and Chris, and that he and Kevin had a great relationship, were friends, even.  

They’d bonded over politics when Kevin interviewed him, and became buds before Chris even realized that you and he were together.

Kevin knew, but he wasn’t the jealous type, and he didn’t want to make things awkward. Surprisingly, Kevin insisted that he be at the wedding. 

You thought about it and decided it would be the ultimate closure for Chris to watch you marry someone else. 

You were pleasantly surprised at Chris. He was handling this very well. He never tried to contact you, and according to Kevin, never even mentioned you. That was growth. 

Maybe you too could be friends. 

You felt good about it. So much so that you unblocked him and started a dialogue.

-----

Hi.

Chris saw your number come across his apple watch and he practically did a dance. It was 9:24 pm.  He picked up his phone and stared at the word, forcing himself to wait and not respond.  He went to work out.

47 minutes later, he responded.

Hello?

This time, he sat and waited for your response, which came 7 minutes later. 

I just wanted to say, I appreciate the way you're handling this.

Chris bit his lip, imagining you sitting there, thinking of what to say and staring down at your phone.

I’m sorry, I don't know who this is. You may have reached a wrong number?

He grinned at the play. 

----- 

Your heart dropped. Did he no longer have your contact?  

Why would he do that?

You don’t know why you felt some kinda way; you’d blocked him. 

Maybe he had changed his number and this was no longer his. Your heart was beating fast when you texted back.

Is this Chris?  This is Y/N.  I was just texting about Kevin Watts.

You anxiously watched the thought bubbles on imessage.

----

Even though you’d texted back almost immediately, Chris kept you hanging for just a couple of minutes. His dick was hard at the thought of communicating with you. 

Fuck, you were such an aphrodesiac.

Oh shit! Y/N I’m sorry.  I got a new phone.. You know how it is…

He knew you wouldn’t believe that. That’s why he said it.

You just stared at the phone. That was bullshit. You can easily port your contacts into a new phone.  You just never believed that Chris would really move on.  And you didn’t know why. 

You had.

You took a deep breath and continued.

Lol, No worries!  Just wanna say thank you for being cool with my Boo. I’m gonna turn in now. Check you later.

You tried to keep it light.

Chris ignored the ‘my Boo’ comment and focused on the thought of you in bed. 

You usually slept in a tank top or t-shirt and panties, and the top would invariably come off because you got hot. 

And then things would invariably get hotter if he was in bed with you….

Cool! Sweet dreams. Check you later. 😉

Chris made sure to exit your message thread and come back so that you wouldn’t see the thought bubbles that he saw when you kept staring at the text.

You  were lost in the times that Chris always used to say that to you, and when he whispered “Sweet Dreams” in your ear when he was far away, you always had wet dreams about him. 

And that wink. 

How could a fucking yellow emoji turn you the fuck on?

You reached for your bullet vibrator as you continued to stare at the interaction.

Chis had already started stroking himself when you told him you were going to bed. 

Knowing that you were thinking exactly what he wanted you to got him close, and he didn’t even have to pull up your old videos to get off. 

Not tonight.

-----

Over the next few weeks. you’d texted a few times, Chris ‘made amends’ and you accepted his apology. 

Then, you started texting more regularly, mainly joking around about sports, your Celtics/Rockets rivalry ever raging. 

From your perspective, Chris was always appropriate and respected your relationship with Kevin.  You were glad because you’d missed your friendship with him.

You felt giddy that your life was working out so well, and you traveled to your weekend getaway in the mountains for your bridal shower with a light heart.

Chris attended Kevin’s bachelor festivities with only a week to go until the wedding.

——

From Chris’s perspective, things were working out better than he’d hoped. 

Scoring an invite to the wedding was more than he’d imagined, and Kevin inviting him out to his Bachelor party was just icing on the cake.  

Maybe he could make Kevin slip up enough so that you would dump him before the wedding. Chris was hopeful.

If not, Plan B was the nuclear option. 

-------

Kevin was following the stripper’s ass like a puppy. He was lit on booze and pills (that Chris provided) and his guard was down.

Kevin considered Chris a friend. 

Chris just wanted to keep Kevin close because he was the enemy.

They were talking about you.

“She’s so fucking innocent. A sweeter angel there never was. I’ll have to teach her how to fuck.”

Chris almost choked on his water.

“I'm sorry. What now?”

Kevin just barreled on, ignoring the question.

“That's how I know I need to wife her.” He was talking to Chris, but still staring at the stripper.

“She would never chase the D. Hell, she won’t even touch mine. You know, her being celibate and all.”

Chris raised his eyebrow and smiled, which Kevin never noticed. Chris shook his head at your antics.  His little beautiful love.

“That’s why I was never pressed that you are her ex. I mean, I’m impressed you were with her as long as you were.”  

Chris just smiled and nodded, curious as to where this was leading.

“A man like you don’t have to put up with that. You must have punani lined up for days, bro.”

Chris’s heart lept. This dullard did not have access to your pussy. HIS pussy.  Never has.

Chris could fuck a lot of people a million ways from Sunday with one text. Except for you. And you were all that mattered. 

“I don’t know about all that.” Chris put on his best, ‘aw shucks’ act.

Chris was over the moon. You were still his. In every way.

Kevin kept tipping the stripper and was trying to call her over. He asked her about a private lap dance.  Chris’s eyes lit up. This asshole was making it too easy.

The stripper nodded and went back to finish up her set.  Chris walked over to the bar.

“Aye!” Chris summoned tha bartender over. 

“What can I get you, Sir.” 

“I don’t need a drink.  I wanna take care of my friend over there. He’s gonna have a lap dance with Star. It’s his bachelor party.  I need it to be extra special.”  

Chris started peeling off hundreds so the barkeep could see. 

“And I need him to have some keepsakes, so he’ll remember it always.” 

More hundreds came off. The bartender’s eyes got bigger and bigger. “That’s no problem.”

Chris flashed his famous smile.  

“Great, let me tell you where to send them. Wanna make them a wedding present.” He wrote down an address on a napkin. 

He was now on Plan C. And it was perfect.

------

A week later and the rehearsal at the church was more fun than you thought it would be.  You weren’t allowed to participate, just watch, as the result of an old wives tale.

The church secretary found you in the pews. She handed you a manila envelope.

“This was mailed here yesterday, probably an invoice of something for the wedding, I put it aside for you, sweetie.”

You smiled back at her and tucked it into your purse, not wanting to distract yourself with more wedding bills. 

Later, when you and Kevin were in the back of the car to the restaurant for the Rehearsal Dinner, you pulled it out and opened it. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What the ENTIRE FUCK KEVIN!”  

You threw the pictures of him fucking a stripper in his face, startling him out of staring at his phone.

He picked one up, his mouth dropped open and started talking. 

“Look, Baby, Baby! I can explain!...”

“DO NOT FUCKING LIE TO ME KEVIN!  WE HAVE OVER 300 PEOPLE HERE FOR OUR WEDDING TOMORROW MORNING.” 

Kevin was on his knees in the back of the suburban. 

“Listen to me.. Listen.  I’m a man. I have needs…”

“Kevin, I swear to god….”

“Okay, okay… I admit it…”

You listened to him and your heart went silent.  You couldn’t even absorb what he said.

When you pulled up to the restaurant, you straightened your dress and looked at him coolly.

“I am NOT going to deal with this tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a fun celebration of our wedding. I will decide later if it's still going to happen.”

Kevin was terrified.

“Right now, you and I will go into this place, greet our friends arm in arm and pretend that you are not a fucking narcissitic asshole who just ripped my heart to shreds. Got it?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Do NOT speak to me unless I speak to you first. Or it's automatically off.”

Kevin just nodded and cleared his throat.

You raised your chin and said, “Let’s go.”

-----

Two hours later, dinner was over, and you were lit on your way to TURNT.

Chris observed you, from the moment you entered holding hands with Kevin to the second you dropped his hand in disgust, to the way you held yourself away from him at dinner, but then put on a sweet face when everyone spoke, to Kevin, who was an absolute mess.

He figured you got the pictures. He suppressed the glee that was coursing through him.

But he couldn’t figure out why you were still going on with the charade.

Chris didn’t make a beeline for you like he wanted to, he just let the natural flow of the party lead you to him.  He was talking to your cousin when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Hey you.”  

You cocked your head at him in that way and looked up at him, your smile brightening your face.  Damn, he had to plant his feet. You smiling at him like that made him feel faint.

You both heard your cousin say something, but you didn’t pay attention, caught up in your own orbit.

“Hey.”  

Chris crossed his arms, and you swore that he was recalling the time when you told him your forearms made you horny. Fuck. Chris made you wet and you were fresh out of fucks tonight.

“So, I can’t have a hug?”  

Chris shook his head at your line and opened his arms to embrace you, keeping a respectable pressure and distance until you hugged him tight and pressed close.  

He couldn’t help but pick you up, but he put you down immediately, cleared his throat and backed up, looking uncomfortable.

That wouldn’t do. You wanted more of his scent, his warmth, his HIM. You pouted unconsciously in your buzzed state.

Chris’s cock stirred.  That fucking mouth had haunted his dreams for almost a year. He was pleased that you were flirting, but he had to work the plan.  Couldn’t go too fast.

“You look… great.  I can’t wait to see you tomorrow in your wedding dress. You will be a beautiful bride.”  

Chris broke his voice in just the right place to convey a wistfulness, making you think that he thought he lost you.

You felt bad.  Chris was so sweet.  You thought about him and you thought about Kevin. 

What was the difference between what Chris did and what Kevin did?  

And who did you have more chemistry with? Chris.  

Why were you even marrying Kevin?

You looked over at him looking at you and Chris like a lost dog.

You had no idea why you were marrying him.

“You look… Like Chris fucking Evans.” You two laughed.  

“I bet you’re fighting them off with a stick.”  You sideyed him.

Chris reveled in your interest in his sex life.

“Well, you know. After rehab, I’ve laid off the... physical part of my life. It only brought chaos, you know. I’m trying to be more… zen. Haven’t really had… that  for the better part of a year.”

He watched your eyes get big.  

“Word?”  You smirked. “So you…”

Chris held up his hand.  The one you knew he jacked off with.  You grabbed it and started drawing on his palm.  Chis pulled it back and cleared his throat again. 

You pouted again. Him being hard to get made you wet.

And Chris knew that.

“So… you ready to marry the love of your life?”

 Chris’s sea blues looked you deep into your cocoa browns. You were transported back in time.

“Yes.” 

 Then you snapped out of it.  

“I mean… the church is set up, the dress is bought, everyone’s here. I guess so.”

Chris laughed as if you were telling a joke.  

“I miss your sense of humor.”

You all made small talk and you caught up a little before you asked what you wanted to know.

“So what are you up to tonight?”

Chris looked at his watch.

“I’m actually about to go to my condo an turn in. I get up early to work out.” He felt your eyes sweep up and down his body, and he flexed even though he was fully dressed. It was true. Working out was a regimen. He wanted you drooling for him. 

“It’s the Marvel condo in Brooklyn?”

You nodded, remembering good times.

“So you have a car picking you up?”  Your mind was whirring.

“I actually have a rental.” 

You gulped your drink down, not daring to look in his eyes. Now, not only was your pussy wet, your nipples were hard as hell. 

“It’s in the parking garage down the block.”

“Well, I need to clear my head. I’ll walk you there, and you can drop me back?”

Chris looked down at your cute face, and then around the room, spotted Kevin and gave him a nod.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”  

You looked at Kevin, too.  You wanted to stick your tongue out, but you just took Chris by the arm and headed toward the door.

“I’m a big girl. Nobody owns me.” 

You looked up into Chris’s eyes and instantly regretted that statement. You played it off and pulled him through the door.

You didn’t talk at all the entire way, both of your heads deep in the clouds of you and him.  The chemistry was crackling the air between you.

You held on to his arm, and he let you, reveling in your touch.

When you reached the parking garage, Chris pressed the button with his knuckle and you got in, headed for the top deck.

You just stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. Chris chuckled.

“You’re dangerous, night before your wedding, you probably have cold feet, I’m here. Maybe you want to be sure that you’re sure…”

You cocked your head. “Who said I wanted to fuck you, Chris Evans?”

Chris cocked his head too, mirroring you.  “Who said ‘fuck?’ I was thinking you wanted to talk.”

He smirked and you scowled as the door opened.

Chris left you in the elevator stewing as he walked over to the black Tesla he’d rented. There was no other car on the deck.

You scoffed, and followed him out.

He was about to walk around to the driver's side door when you grabbed his arm before he made it. He stopped directly in front of the car.

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t want me?”  You were hot, in more ways than one.

Chris leaned back against the hood.

“That’s not what we’re talking about, y/n. You’re getting married tomorrow. To someone else.”

You smiled and reached up, fingers grazing his neck and playing with the hair at his nape. You ran your fingers through his beard.  Kevin’s couldn’t compare.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m single as fuck.” 

You stood on your tip toes and brushed your lips against his, reveling in the moan that came from his throat.

Chris fought to control his urge and continued with his act. His fingers tightened around your waist and you thought this was it.  He turned you around in front of the car and then let you go, stepping back to pace back and forth.

“What? What is this? You’ve had almost a year. Kevin’s my friend. What do you want from me?”  

He advanced on you, and you had to remember to breathe.  He knew what you wanted.

“You. I want you, Chris.”

Chris attacked your lips with his own.  He took two seconds to savor them before he ravaged your mouth with his tongue.  You moaned and he broke from your mouth to re-discover your face, your neck, your cleavage.  He had to control himself not to rip the bodice of your blush pink chiffon dress.

He had a raging hard on, which you were feeling up, remembering how you always struggled to take him.  You wanted him to hurt you with it now.

“Give me this Chris… please…”

You were reaching into his pants, thumb caressing his wet, thick tip. He was leaking for you.

“Remember when you told me that I would meet you in a parking lot, and let you fuck me over the hood of your rental car? Even if I was with someone else?”  

You pulled your hand out and started sucking your thumb, closing your eyes at the taste of Chris after so long.  You pulled it out with a pop.  

“You were so right.”

Chris practically growled, grabbed your arm and spun you, pushing your back until your chest hit the hood of the Model X.  He leaned over you, pushing his covered crotch into the back of your dress, you moaned, wanting more.  His mouth was at your ear.

“Oh, so you want to be my cock whore on the eve of your wedding to someone else.”  You moaned because it was true.

“It’s been so long, Chris…”

He reached down in between you and flipped the flouncy skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the wind of New York City.  He looked at it for a minute, your ass always his favorite.

He caressed it with both hands, pressing into you with his thumbs.  

“So you want me to feel you up?”  He pulled his hand back and sucked one of them, practically jumping for joy when he tasted you. 

“You want me to pull your panties to the side….” and he did so, seeing your slick shine in the moonlight, and playing in it for a minute, tracing your lips and making you quiver around nothing.

The way you were moaning his name was everything right now.

Your face was pressed against the cool metal of the car, and it was the only thing tying you to the earth.

“Oh yes, Chris…. Please please yesss...fuck me… damn...stretch me out…”

Chris’s dick pulsed and he needed you around him. He moved close again and unzipped his pants, the sound making your knees weak.

He teased your cunt with his tip, collecting your arousal and smearing it not only around your pussy, but around your asshole.

“I know you’ve fucked him, but have you let him have your ass?  Am I still the only one…?”

Chris was still playing the game. 

“No, no, no… I haven’t let him… I haven’t given him anything. I’ve been celibate, too.  It’s still yours Chris. All of me is still yours.”

Chris almost came just hearing you say it out loud. He already knew, but hearing you say it was the shit.

He pushed into you with a grunt, and it was difficult.  He didn’t make it. Your cunt squeezed him out.

“Ffffuck, y/n. You’re practically closed down.  Is it true?”  

He started rocking his tip into your pussy slowly, both regretting and reveling in the fact that he didn’t stretch you out with his fingers beforehand.  Then he decided that he wanted you to feel this fully.

You couldn’t answer, only responding with moans has he painfully breached you. You welcomed it, though.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah… yes Chris.  Only you.. Since you and I….”  Talking about it and the fact that you were taking him again made you wetter, and eased Chris’s way, although your pussy was already stinging with his girth. Your eyes rolled back in your head.

You would never get over this and were so grateful for the feeling again.  

Chris watched you and had to grit his teeth to hold back from the reality that he was taking you again. 

He leaned over you, hot breath huffing in your ear, puffing and groaning as he fucked you slowly.  He was trying to feel every sensation. He wanted you to know that each and every millimeter of your glorious wet, tight pussy was his.

‘Ohhhh. Fuck Chris… YESSSS!”  Your voice echoed off the concrete walls, and Chris wanted you louder.

“This what you wanted?  You wanted your thick cock inside you again. Hunh?  You wanted me to stretch your walls and fuck you raw, hunh?”  He started speeding up in time with your moans.

“Such a fucking filthy cockslut for me, baby.”  Chris grabbed your neck from the back. “Why didn’t you let Kevin hit, hunh?”  

You didn’t answer, you just moaned and Chris smacked your ass, hard.

“Chris! Fuck!”  

You screamed. You missed his ruthlessness when you fucked, you missed him making sure that you knew that he knew that you knew. You belonged to him. 

 “Please!”

“I know why.” 

Chris stopped fucking you and pressed down harder on your back, reaching around to find your clit.  He swirled around it once, then started to press down slowly. 

“Because you would never beg him for that subpar dick that he has. You’re MY whore. You belong to me.”

He pressed down roughly, and you detonated around his dick.  He didn’t have to move.  Chris pulled out, leaving you cold and bereft.

You turned around and leaned up against the hood, panting and still desperate for him.  He stood there in front of you, dick sticking out of his pants, which were ruined, and still rock hard and ready. He was in a quiet rage.

“Why did you leave me?” 

You searched his face.  He sounded like he was about to cry.  You couldn’t quite see his entire face, but his eyes shone, bright with liquid.  You went toward him.

“You hurt me Chris.  I couldn’t stay. But let me take care of you now.”

You got on your knees in front of him, the hard concrete of the parking structure digging into your knees.  

Again, you welcomed the physical pain, distracting you from what you were doing to Kevin, to Chris, and to yourself.

Chris felt like he could fly.  You on your knees for him again was a dream. 

He took his cock in his hand, stroking it, while moving close to you. In no time, the back of your head was in his palm, and you opened wide to accept him, hand coming up to stroke what you couldn’t fit.

“Ah, ah. Let me.”  

You looked up at him to see an evil grin shine down on you. 

Chris looked down on an angel trying to swallow him whole. He brushed the tears away from your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You were perfection.

Moaning around him, you relaxed your mouth and throat and let him use you.  It was difficult, because you were out of practice, but you welcomed the letting go of all thought. 

You dripped down your thighs as Chris pumped into you, ready to accept what he had to give. 

After a few minutes, he stopped, and pulled out, grabbing you up to your feet. 

Then he bent down and grabbed you by the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him and trying to grind down on his still-erect cock as he backed you to the car.

Your ass hit the hood, and Chris reached between you to first tear your panties off. He put them in his pocket as he swiped his dick up and down your dripping wet folds.  

He looked back up to watch your face as he pushed inside you, now, an easier path to nirvana.

He pulsed as he watched the pleasure take over your face, with your mouth slack and your eyes glassed over. This was his main purpose in life and he almost lost it.

He brought his hand up to bring you closer, breathed into your mouth as he squeezed your throat. You were high instantly, and clamped down on his cock as your body was wracked with waves of pleasure.

Chris let your body descend back down to the car as he pumped his seed into you, his mind fantasizing that he was impregnating you. 

He shook your body as the last ropes of cum spurted out of him. He ran his hand down your body as he pulled out, zipping up his pants as you came back to your senses on the hood of the car.

You stared at the stars as you realized what you had done.  You sat up and adjusted your dress, gingerly climbing back down to the ground.  

Chris kissed you on the forehead, and this time you let him get into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger side and Chris reached into the glovebox and handed you some wet wipes.

“Fix your face. And your knees.” 

He nodded down to your legs, which were dirty from the parking structure floor.  He watched you wipe your knees off, but stopped you as you went higher.

“No. I want you to feel me all night long.”  

You wanted to be a brat, but you didn’t feel like sass right about now. You felt kinda terrible.

You got another wet wipe and fixed your makeup as best you could as Chris drove you back to the restaurant.

“Chris, I…”

“I know.  None of that meant that we’re back together.  That was for some kind of something, I dunno, something Kevin might have done?” 

You looked down, ashamed. Chris lifted your chin up with his hand.

“I want you to come to me on your own.  You’ve gotten that out of your system, and I’m glad to be of service.”  You looked up into his eyes and at his wry smile.

“But remember, you still have a choice. I’m here if you choose me.”  

He leaned over and gave you a tender kiss in front of the restaurant.

You smiled at him and climbed out of the car, watching as he drove off.

Chris’s heart was beating out of his chest as he watched you turn and go back inside. He fought the urge to turn around. It was better this way.

----

You walked in the restaurant, and pulled Kevin over to the side of the restaurant in dark alcove. 

“Listen. Do you still want to marry me?”

He looked you up and down, taking in your state, from the faint marks on your neck to your scuffed knees.  He knew exactly what was up.

You raised an eyebrow at him.  

-----

Three hours later, a sleepy Chris answered the doorbell in Brooklyn.

He smiled at you, in the Captain America t-shirt and jeans that you’d stolen from him after a photoshoot, looking like his favorite Disney princess. You.

You took him in, clad in grey sweatpants that hung off his magnificently cut body.  He blinked at you sleepily.

“The wedding is off. Chris, I….”

He reached out and grabbed you, pulling you in the brownstone and shutting the door behind you.  He had you pinned up against the wall as you tried to speak.

“Shut up and let me taste you.”  

You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you upstairs.

--- 

The next morning, Chris was on the phone with Scott.

“Yes, tell the workers at the warehouse to dump all the products….I don’t care, the river, the landfill…. Y/N can’t find out that I bought up all her stock…. We’re going to be married..... I know what the fuck I’m doing Scott. We leave for Aruba this afternoon. Listen, I’ll call you later.”

Chris hung up and turned to find you in the doorway, frowning and rubbing your eyes.  

“We’re going to Aruba?”  

You smiled and yawned, sleepily stretching.  That was all that you’d heard of the conversation.

Chris gave you his stunner smile.  

“Yes. It was going to be a surprise.” 

He reached down and swung you up in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal style.

“Now let’s get in the shower.  You’ve been very naughty, gotta get you clean for your wedding day.”

You giggled as you relaxed in Chris’s arms. “It takes two to be naughty, Chris.”

He winked at you as he turned on the shower. “Don’t I know it.”

-----

I know it’s different. Let me know if you like it. Like, comment, reblog! 

Tags:

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[undertale-writing-times]

An entire set of snakey little guys?!?!

I would like a set, please!!!

Of course! thank you for asking so kindly :D

When you saw the ad for Bitty Inc, you of course jumped at the chance! Who wouldn’t want to adopt Bitties at a lower price? Even more if they’re little snakes. They sound adorable. 

You plucked off one of the tickets, put in the money then send it to the address and sit to wait for your Bitties. It might take a while, you knew, so you weren’t too worried. 

It did take a few weeks, and you got a large box as well as a letter. The letter said ’thank you for agreeing to be part of this! I hope you enjoy your Bitties. Please do remember to update us on this website. We would love to hear more about them’ 

You grin, hopping up and down a little then run in and put down the box. 

Okay, let’s see... their names on the list were Coal. He was the ’leader’ of the group even though he wasn’t the biggest the list said. He was very venomous and said if he bit then you’d get sleepy and you needed to be careful with that. Dusky, he wasn’t venomous but still dangerous because he enjoyed biting. His fangs were supposed to press back so it would be hard to get him to let go. Ghost who also wasn’t venomous but he had toxins in his spit... there was Big Red was a constrictor and the biggest in the box. He was slow and a little lazy but it would be really hard to get him off if he got attached and the last one was named Regal. 

Okay... Coal, Dusky, Ghost, Big Red, and Regal. 

You were sure that you could remember that. Yeah, yeah you were pretty sure. 

With a slow breath, you open the box peeking into it. There was a bright red tail curled a little around the others, one was a pure black and kinda looked like it had shines of light blue and purple on the scales. It was really pretty and one that was a light white and blue color... another which was a deeper red. Then the one that was red blue yellow and black. 

There were SO many colors...

You slowly lift them up out of the box, studying them then place them into the tank that you had set up, and turned on the light. Good to keep them warm.

They slowly started to wake up, the first one to slither away being the most colorful one and they look up at you. You look down at them and smile, waving, “Hi there... I’m Y/n, are you uh... Regal?” 

That one hisses softly then slithers away to curl up on the rock away from the others, resting their head on their black bones. 

Okay then.

You look over the others. They were getting woken up by the warmth too. The biggest was Big Red you figured, and he stretches out, yawning, then looks up at you blinking. He had only one eyeshine and a crack in his skull. The others look up at you too. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, slowly rising your hand in a small wave. “Hiya guys... I’m Y/n, I adopted you guys. Can you tell me which is which?” 

You had a feeling given their colors and such but you were still hoping to figure out. The blackest one that’s really pretty slides forward, looking up at you, “I am Coal,” and then he started to list off the other ones. The one with black markings under his eyes waves, and curls up around Coal, letting out happy sounds which caused Coal to huff in annoyance. You giggle softly and reach down, petting that one, “and you’re Dusky, I guess?” he nods, leaning into the touch, shutting his sockets. 

Okay... Alright yeah, this was gonna be interesting. 

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

When He’s Not Here

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (x Kirishima)

Warnings: Cursing, implied severe nightmare(s), mentioned character death (just kinda talking about it, nothing actually happened, dw), soft Bakugou (like, really soft)

A/N: I will take this as an opportunity to welcome myself back into writing (although I never really stopped; I just wanted to work on a few personal projects that were just for me :]). Um, I don’t have much to say about this other than I actually like it! I think it turned out pretty well, so props to me 🎉.

This is technically a Kiribaku x reader, buuut TWIST, Kirishima isn’t really in this one. Mostly just y/n and Bakugou interaction. Yeah, fun.

I promise this is fluff. It’s a little angsty, but not to any extreme. Just nightmare comfort and snuggles with Blasty.

Anyway, enjoy!

-Sugar

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You bolted upright, chest heaving, disoriented.

Everything around you was uncomfortably hot—unbearable. A sheen of sweat coated your skin, and the sheets beneath you were damp. Your heart pounded in your chest, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. Darkness pressed around you, only making it easier to see your visions again, playing over and over in your memory.

Desperate, your hands patted blindly around you, looking for something that would make it stop, something to help you feel better.

Your trembling fingers bumped into a warm, solid mound beside you and you latched onto it, hoping to find solace in this sea of fear and nothingness.

“Eijirou?” you gasped, already somehow feeling more grounded as you shook the man’s arm.

“Hm?” Rather than who you’d been expecting, a familiar rough voice emerged from the dark mass beside you.

“Katsuki?” you called out instead.

“What?” He rolled onto his back, dragging a hand over his face. “(Y/N)? What time is—”

You suddenly tackled him into a hug, burying your nose into his shoulder. “You’re alive! Thank goodness you’re okay!” You could sob with how happy you were to find that your nightmare had been little more than just a dream, that Bakugou and Kirishima weren’t dead, and that you were still safe.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” he asked gruffly. “And what’s got you shaking so hard? Was it another—”

“Bad dream,” you affirmed, pulling off of him and straightening. “Just a . . . dream.”

“Oh,” he muttered, sitting up.

“Sorry I woke you up. I was trying for—”

“Eijirou?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you, I just . . . forgot he wasn’t here.”

“Oh.”

Now it was coming back to you. Kirishima was away on a mission on the other side of the country. This was yours and Bakugou’s second night without him, but it still felt so foreign to have him missing from your bed. The sheets felt . . . colder and emptier with him gone. Yes, the redhead had a habit of spreading out in his sleep and snoring much louder than necessary, but both you and Katsuki (though he wouldn’t admit it out loud) had grown quite fond of his presence.

“Need anything?” the blond grunted, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Um,” you mumbled, thinking. “Maybe some water?”

Bakugou stood without another word, sliding silently out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. Flicking on the light, he grabbed a glass out of the cabinet.

For as long as you’d been sharing a bed, Bakugou had been aware of your recurrent nightmares. He’d always been a light sleeper, so it was unavoidable that your muffled whimpers and kicking would wake him up. He was there for you when you needed him, yes, but . . . it didn’t take long for Katsuki to realize that Eijirou was just better with this sort of thing.

Bakugou didn’t know much about emotions, or comfort for that matter. He tended to just blast his way through things and hope others did the same. He had more important things to worry about than “feelings”. But he’d be a damn fool to overlook how powerful they could be, especially when it came to you and Eijirou. Hell, even the weight of his own feelings for the two of you shook his world from time to time.

But it just wasn’t something he was good at, and it frustrated him. He had to be the best. The best of the best, especially for someone like you. You were his partner, and he’d vowed to himself to be the best boyfriend to you no matter what. Maybe he was being a coward. Shouldn’t he work on the things he wasn’t good at? Even when they didn’t come easy?

He had to at least try.

Bakugou came back into the bedroom with a fresh glass of water in his hand. You took it from him gratefully, letting the cool liquid clear your mind as it slid down your throat.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low.

“Yes. Thank you.” You set the glass on the nightstand beside you, curling back into yourself.

The blond racked his mind. What did Kirishima do? Usually as soon as the redhead was awake and cooing over you, Katsuki would try to fall back asleep. He knew you were safe with him, so what was the point in doing anything more? Besides, Bakugou’s sleep schedule wasn’t something to be messed with. But now Eijirou was gone, and you needed someone to be there for you. You were more important to Katsuki than sleep. And you were still shaking.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bakugou finally managed.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head. “It was just a dream. I don’t want to think about it more than I need to.”

“Oh.”

Bakugou sat on the bed in silence. Now what? If you weren’t going to talk, how was he supposed to know what to do?

“What does Kirishima do? When this happens.”

You glanced at the rumpled blankets underneath you, suddenly—for seemingly no reason—shy. “He usually holds me.”

Of course he did. That was your combined solution to everything. Figures.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you threw out quickly. “I know you’re not really in a cuddly mood right now—”

Bakugou gathered you up in his arms and shoved your body into his chest. You gasped at the abrupt motion but were just as quick to relax against him, suddenly feeling secure in his strong hold. His body was a little different from Kirishima’s; still thoroughly well-muscled, but otherwise smaller and leaner. You breathed in his scent—also different, but still so heavenly familiar and sweet.

“What gave you that idea?” he asked, his chin resting gently on the top of your head.

“You, um, were facing away from me when we went to bed.”

“Tch, dumbass.” He shifted you into a more comfortable position on his lap, kissing your scalp. “Now what?” he mumbled into your hair.

“He . . . talks to me.”

“What does he say?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “He reassures me, I guess.”

Bakugou frowned. “How am I supposed to do that if I don’t know what your shitty nightmare was about anyway?”

He felt you stiffen in his hold, and he knew he’d messed up.

“Look,” he muttered. “I know this really isn’t my thing, but please. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled in a small voice.

Silence.

Bakugou didn’t mind silence. In fact, he generally preferred it. It gave him peace to think to himself, and he hated it when there was something annoying and distracting buzzing around him, especially when it was some dumb, unimportant person.

But you weren’t dumb, or unimportant to him, and this time, he felt truly uncomfortable in the quiet dark. Why weren’t you saying anything? You weren’t exactly the type to never stop talking—you could be pretty quiet yourself, actually—but even you had a tendency to fill the void with something.

If you weren’t going to do it, he might as well just get it over with.

“You said something about me being alive when you woke up, yeah?” he asked you. “Scared of me dying?”

You paused, then nodded, tightly clutching the front of his tank top.

“Nothing can kill me,” he said, trying to approach with his cocky attitude.

“. . . you know that isn’t true,” you murmured.

He scowled. “Are you doubting me or something?”

“No. You’re just . . . no one’s invincible, Katsuki. Not even you.”

Bakugou huffed. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. How did Eijirou do this so often? Why had Bakugou never paid enough attention? Now he was starting to feel guilty. Had he been slacking off with you?

“I think you’re amazing, ‘Tsuki,” you went on. “But I’m scared of losing you. Both of you.”

He sighed. “Now why are you worrying about that?”

“I don’t know . . . .” You shrugged. “I guess that the simple answer is because I love you. Of course I worry about something happening. I don’t—I don’t know what I’d do if one of you got hurt, or—or worse.” You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting to keep yourself from crying.

“Hey,” Bakugou said softly.

You nuzzled yourself closer into his chest, sniffling a little and taking a deep breath.

“You know you’re strong, right?” he muttered, brushing his thumb over your shoulder. “I see it in you. I have for years. I trust that you can handle anything. You’ve been through a lot.”

It was your turn to sigh. “But I don’t want to go through something like that.”

“You think anyone does?”

“Well, no. Of course not.”

“Listen. You’re talking about two of the best pro heroes there are, okay? We’ve all got each other and we can take care of ourselves, got that? Worrying about us isn’t gonna do you any favors.”

“I can’t just ‘stop worrying’,” you countered.

“Okay, but don’t put so much into it. We’re here with you now, dumbass. Enjoy it while you can.”

“. . . Eijirou’s not here.”

Bakugou paused, thinking. “‘That what all this is about?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Probably.”

“I’m sure he’s safe.” Katsuki rocked you ever so slightly in his arms, settling back into the quiet night.

“Do you miss him?” you asked.

“. . . ‘course I do.”

You smirked. “Aww.”

“Hey!” he protested. “I . . . I’m not scared to say that I love him. Or you for that matter.”

“I know.” You leaned up, touching the tip of your nose to his.

He blinked in surprise at the gesture, but then smiled softly and rested his forehead against yours.

“This is weird to say,” you began after a moment, “but I can’t really sleep without him snoring in my ear like a lawnmower.”

Katsuki barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? This is the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve gotten since we moved in together.”

You giggled. “Okay. But don’t you miss his good-night kisses?”

“Tch,” Bakugou grumbled. “Of course not. He’s so clingy and annoying.”

“Oh? That’s not how I remember it,” you laughed. “You love it when he gets like that.”

The blond scowled in the dark. “Alright, maybe it’s not so bad.”

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder again. “I love you both, you know,” you said. “I can’t wait until things can go back to normal.”

“Shitty hair’ll be home soon,” Bakugou assured you. He chuckled to himself. “Until then, do you want me to snore in your ear for you? How about that? Something like this?” He obnoxiously made a loud, fake snoring noise in the back of his throat, making it sound as gross as possible.

You cracked up laughing, holding him closer to you while your shoulders shook. “Eijirou does not sound like that!”

“Oh, yes, he does,” Bakugou argued playfully. “Believe me, I sleep next to him too. And for whatever reason, you like it.”

You laughed again, and Katsuki’s cheeks warmed at the sweet sound of your mirth. “It’s just too quiet without him! I’m not used to it.”

“Well how about hogging all the blankets, then? And stealing the whole bed? Would that make you feel better?” Bakugou turned your bodies so he could flop on top of you, starfishing his limbs so you couldn’t get up.

“Actually, you do do that,” you teased. “You sprawl out on the bed all the time.”

He pouted. “Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Well how about kisses then? I’m the best kisser there is, and I’ve got two partners that’ll attest to that,” he boasted proudly.

“Ooh, two partners, huh?”

“Yeah, and you’re one of them. Here, I’ll prove it.”

Before you could say anything in response, Bakugou’s lips found yours, kissing you deeply and taking your breath away. Your hand slid up to cup his cheek, holding him in place as he embraced you. His lips were so soft and sweet—he always wore chapstick before he went to bed. You couldn’t help but sigh happily as his mouth moved over yours; gentle, but still with the slightest hint of roughness to it he always carried no matter what.

Eventually he pulled back, letting you breathe.

“I do like having just the two of us here,” you admitted quietly, brushing some of his spiky bangs back from his forehead. “It’s . . . different.”

You couldn’t really see it in the dark, but he smiled. “I like it too.” He leaned in and kissed your lips once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You stroked his cheek with the side of your thumb. “But maybe we shouldn’t be teasing our boyfriend while he isn’t here to defend himself.”

Bakugou snorted. “Eijirou doesn’t care. Besides, it’s all true.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair and scratching at his scalp. “Thanks for making me feel better.”

Oh, that’s right, he was supposed to have been comforting you. He guessed that somehow, he’d done it. His chest swelled with pride. “Sure thing. Are you feeling alright now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “That dream was stupid anyway. It didn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it didn’t.” Katsuki pulled you into his arms again, rolling you both onto your sides so he could face you. “Shitty fucking dream. It’s not real, and it can’t hurt you. I’m here for you, got that? That’s what matters. Nothing’s going to take me away, and I mean it.” He kissed your forehead, pulling the blankets up around your shoulders again. “I fight and win for you, you know. I win for both of you. You two never leave my mind. I’m not stupid and reckless, okay? I’m careful enough so that I don’t get hurt like that.”

“I know.” You rested your head against his chest, sighing in contentment at the feeling of being held by him. It was warm and calming, comfortable and familiar. There wasn’t anywhere else you’d rather be.

“Ready to go back to sleep?” he asked you, rubbing your back.

“Yeah,” you murmured, shutting your eyes.

He hummed. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning, (Y/N).”

“Good night, Katsuki.”

Soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep, and until you awoke again at dawn, you were at peace.

…

“I’m home!” a voice called out by the doorway.

You jumped up from the couch, making a beeline towards the entrance of your house. “Eijirou!” you greeted happily, running up to him for a hug.

“Hey! It’s my darling, wonderful (Y/N)!” he laughed, dropping his bags and hoisting you up in his arms.

“It’s my big, strong manly man!” you countered, laughing.

He brought his face to yours, humming happily as he kissed you several times in quick succession.

“The two of you are going to make me puke.”

Eijirou let you go, setting you back down on the floor to look up at his boyfriend, who’d stepped in to greet Kirishima for himself.

“Katsuki!” he said happily, unfazed. He held out his arms, making grabby motions with his hands toward the blond.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, walking up to the redhead despite his annoyed façade. Eijirou hugged him tight, pressing a long, solid kiss to his lips.

“Group hug!” he said, pulling you in again for another hug, this time with Bakugou in the mix. “I missed you guys.”

“How was your trip?” you asked him.

“Great!” Kirishima said. “I’ll tell you everything about it as soon as I get something to eat, I’m starving.”

“I made dinner for everyone,” Bakugou said.

“So that’s why it smells amazing!” Kirishima kissed Bakugou on the cheek in thanks, then gave you another to be fair. “Let’s go then,” he said, stepping forward. “Although, I guess I should ask; did I miss anything while I was gone?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicalyrandom​ @hyunmin-1404​ @kqtsukii​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

I Know What You’re Thinking, You’re On My Mind (You’re Right)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Angel are in love and these are different moments in the span of their relationship.

Warning(s): Just a lot of fluffy goodness....okay some angst (it’s me lol) but mostly fluff

Word count: 2,526

AN: This is kind of a songfic, but also not really? I think of it as a bunch of drabbles loosely connected by random parts of a song. Song title and inspo from Come Close by Common ft. Mary J. Blige. The sweetest little fic I’ve ever written. Fat Black girls deserve to be loved loudly. This is for us. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo

Smile, happiness, you could model it And when you feel opposite I just want you to know Your whole, being is beautiful I'ma do the best I can do Cause I'm my best when I'm with you

The sound of a domino being slammed on the table caused several other park goers to turn their heads and see a striking woman jumping out of her seat.

“That’s domino bitches! Y’all really thought you could beat me in dominoes? Shoulda checked my credentials mofos!” Y/N shouted, a huge smile on her face as she talked shit.

The guys around the table all groaned and huffed as she celebrated her win. Coco swore up and down that he would be the winner and Gilly was just as sure that he would be the one. EZ just wanted to play and Angel kept his mouth shut knowing his girl had been playing dominoes with her father and uncles practically all her life.

“Whatever, Y/N. You not seeing me in poker.” Coco grumbled, though he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He was impressed.

“Well this aint poker is it? Run me my money.” She replied, rubbing her fingers together before holding out her hand.

The men all pulled out their wallets and placed the correct amount of money into Y/N’s hands. She grinned as she fanned herself with the money before draping her body across the smirking Angel’s lap.

“Oh hey there sexy. If you’re nice I might buy you something with this considerable fortune I just won.” Y/N winked.

“You my sugar mama now?” Angel teasingly asked.

“I do taste sweet so I think I fit the description.”

“Damn right you do.” He smirked, before leaning down to kiss Y/N’s lips.

Santo Padre’s mayor, Antonia Pena, had put together a community fair to help raise money for the town and uplift spirits. It was also a great way for local businesses to showcase what they have to offer. Services and items were put into a raffle that everyone who attended the event got entered into. Y/N even managed to convince Felipe to have a little booth to show off his fine cuts of meat and how they could best be used in meals.

Angel was so in awe of her. She managed to pull even his grumpy ass father out of the house and she was constantly a source of light in his life. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he knew he never wanted to let her go. He loved her more than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. She never doubted him or made him feel inadequate. She understood even the ugly parts of him. Didn’t excuse or condone his behavior, but she understood it and always reassured him that she knew he could do better.

“Whatchu staring at?” She asked, after the kiss ended and he kept his intense gaze on her.

“My whole world.” He answered honestly and she felt herself get a little emotional.

“If you make me cry in public, I will hurt you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He replied, nipping at her shoulder and making her grin.

I know in the past, love Has been sort of hard on you But I see the God in you I just want to nurture it Though this love may hurt a bit

Neither of them had the best track record when it came to relationships. Angel had an awful habit of doing things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he is. He runs on emotion a lot of the time. It frustrates Y/N to no end. She doesn’t operate like that. She rarely if ever acts on impulse. She thinks too much. Worries too much about how people will react to her and her actions. Her hesitance to engage in things before she’s run every possible scenario through her head makes Angel want to pull his hair out. He hates seeing her unsure of herself. He makes it his mission to help her just get lost in the moment sometimes. And she tries her hardest to slow him down and make him think more on things before he acts.

His lifestyle also guaranteed their love won’t always be sunshine and roses. The first time Angel got hurt Y/N thought she was going to pass out. The level of panic and fear she felt almost took her down. When she finally got to see him in the hospital bed, she burst into tears. Once he was healed, she tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. The one time Y/N was verbally and physically accosted in front of Angel, he almost shot someone right in front of her. The need to protect her almost overrode his need to keep her away from the more violent side of himself.

The silence was deafening. Neither one was ready to take the first step and speak. The whole ride back home, Y/N never said a word. Not when Angel was getting chewed out by Bishop or when several people practically gawked at her even as they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. She was silent as she went through her nightly routine and prepared for bed.

It was as she sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to slide under the covers that Angel finally snapped.

“You’re really not gonna fucking say anything?” He practically growled at her, glaring at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed. He had on his usual sleepwear of a tank top and sweats.

She sighed, “What do you want me to say Angel?”

“Anything. Cuss me out, kiss me, or I don’t know, maybe thank me?” He suggested, sarcasm in his voice at the last part because he was clearly exasperated.

She cut her eyes at him fiercely. “Thank you? You want me to thank you?”

“Yes.” He stubbornly confirmed.

She shot up from the bed and spun to face him full on. She had never been so mad at him. “Thank you Angel for causing a bigger scene. Thank you Angel for almost igniting a war between two gangs over one stupid joke. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way and almost giving me a heart attack. Thank you so much Angel.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It wasn’t just a stupid joke. You think I care so little about you that I wouldn’t fuck someone up for you?”

“I’ve heard way worse..” She argued, so used to minimizing her pain. Her dismissal of the incident as something trivial made him even more pissed.

“I don’t give a damn what you heard. Aint nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me and think I’m just gonna let that shit slide.”

“You could have killed him.”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.” He exploded, making her freeze and stare at him with her mouth slightly open. “You’re mine. I don’t know what kinda cowards you been dealing with before, but I don’t play that shit. There is no joking when it comes to you. Not from some hijo de puta who has the audacity to put his hands on you. He’s lucky the only thing I did was bust him in the head with my pistol.”

“Angel…..” She sighed, her eyes closing as she took in his words. She understood his point but was still uncomfortable with the methods.

He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead before resting his head on hers. He spoke only after she opened her eyes, “You can be mad. I already know you are, but I’m not apologizing for protecting you.”

She had to get used to being loved and protected so adamantly by someone. So often left to comfort herself and bury her hurt, it took her a while to accept Angel’s form of protection. A part of her kept her guard up waiting for him to turn it against her, but that day never came. Any violent outbursts he had in her presence were never directed at her and so she found herself trusting him whole-heartedly. Her love for him deepened as time moved forward.

You helped me to discover me I just want you to put trust in me

Y/N loved Pops and she enjoyed the family dinners with him and EZ, but she knew he was not the perfect father. He made mistakes and Angel still hasn’t completely dealt with the issues the mistakes left him with. Everything just got buried. She knew when he was starting to feel inadequate or like he didn’t deserve her because he would become even more clingy. He was already very affectionate with her, always having a hand on her back and kissing her head. She loved how open he was, but when he was going through it the touches would have a desperate edge to them. Like he was trying to prove something.

A new episode of Joseline’s Cabaret played on the tv showing off the Puerto Rican Princess’ latest antics. Y/N had on sweats and a tank top as she laid on your back and giggled at the fight on her screen. She doesn't know why she watches that show, but it was entertaining.

Her front door opened and in walked the man she’d been seeing for a year now.

“What did I tell you about leaving this door unlocked?”

“I knew you were coming over so why would I lock it?” She argued, tilting her head back to watch Angel toe off his shoes and take off his kutte.

“You’re so hard headed.” He slapped the outside of her thigh and leaned in for a kiss before lying in between her legs. His head rested on her stomach and her hands immediately began running through his hair. His hands ran over her thighs as he buried his face in her belly and just breathed her in.

“You walked right in so obviously I was right.” Her hands moved from his hair to slide down his back, feeling for any new bruises. “How was your day? Do I gotta kick someone’s ass for messing with my man?” She asked, a teasing tone to her words even though she was kinda being serious.

“I’m all good, mi dulce.” He responded, already knowing her touches were to comfort him but also give herself some peace of mind that he was with her and he was still whole.

It was quiet for a moment before Angel propped his chin on her belly and looked at her. She brought her attention from the television to him. There was a gentle look in his eyes, full of love but also a vulnerability that made her heart clench.

“You love me right?” He gripped her hips tightly as he searched her eyes for the truth in her words.

Her eyes widened at his question. “Of cour-”

He interrupted her. “Because I love you so damn much, querida. I know I’m not easy, but I try to be better for you.”

“Angel…” Her hand gently caressed his cheek as she softly smiled at him. “You are my favorite person in this whole world. You love me like no other and I’ll always love you. Never forget that. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you.” She leaned forward to kiss his lips and felt his grip on her hips loosen.

The two shared loving kisses for several minutes before he pulled away and kissed her stomach before laying his head back down. His attention finally focused on the television. “What the fuck are you watching?”

She was unable to contain her giggles.

I kind of laugh when you cuss at me The aftermath is you touching me

“Oh, is that funny? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Not at all gorgeous.” His words and his facial expression did not match.

“Then why are you smirking? I’m as serious as a heart attack. If you miss the ceremony where I’m awarded for my work, we’re gonna have some big problems Reyes.” She threatened, not letting that smirk get to her as it usually did. The club pulled him away a lot but some things she just needed him present for.

“Mmhm…how big?” He asked, still joking around.

“Angel!” She admonished, striking out to punch him in the stomach and making him grunt.

“You know I love when you scream my name. Sexy as fuck.” He growled, before playfully tackling her to the bed. She finally laughed as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He pulled back to look down in her eyes. “Hey, come hell or high water Imma be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

The smile she flashed him was bright enough to light the darkest of nights.

I'm tired of the fast lane I want you to have my last name

Dabbing her eyes with a napkin, Y/N smiled as Angel and EZ shared a heartfelt hug after the best man speech. She knew EZ’s speech would be beautiful and she thanked him for his kind words.

“You’re my sister for real now.” He responded, making her wanna cry again but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before Angel pulled her into a side hug.

“First dance time.” He whispered in her ear, taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

“How does it feel to be Y/N Reyes?” Angel asked, his eyes taking her in. She looked so magnificent in her wedding dress. He wanted to rip it off, but also he couldn’t take his eyes off how good she looked in it. If he shed some tears when she walked down that aisle, who could blame him?

“It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m so beyond honored to be Mrs. Angel Reyes.” She responded, her eyes filling with happy tears but she refused to let them fall. She just felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Even though he’d long gotten rid of the jacket, she loved that he actually wore a suit. He hardly ever wore one and it was a damn shame. He looked so delicious she couldn’t wait for them to get back home.

Y/N found herself really taking the moment in. Their family and friends watched them with huge smiles on their faces. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Angel for long as he held her in his arms, his hands always making her feel safe. This was her life and he was her future.

Her eyes twinkled as she asked him, “Ready for forever?”

Come close to me, baby (Yeah, love) Let your love hold you (Let me hold you tonight, babe) I know this world is crazy (It gets crazy, but I'll be right here) What's it without you? (We gon' make it, I love you, I love you, I love you)