#I’m not sure how to credit so let me know if I messed something up

[nixienewt]

Hu Ru Daxian from Even Rainfall Has Shadows by @lumidotexe in a backless dress :D

[inkedinshadows]

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

[fxllfaiiry]

❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.

★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.

★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet

Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.

You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 

He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 

Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 

“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 

“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 

“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 

“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully

“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 

“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 

This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 

He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.

He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.

He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 

Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 

He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.

Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 

In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.

He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.

But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 

He slept like a baby that night. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 

“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 

He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  

Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 

“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 

“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”

“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 

“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”

“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 

You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.

“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 

“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 

“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 

You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  

“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 

You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 

Positive. You were pregnant. 

“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 

“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 

“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 

“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 

“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 

“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 

“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.

[baigepueckers]

Caitlin Clark X Reader

Love on the Back Nine

You’re sitting at the kitchen table with your phone buzzing in your hand as you scroll through your messages. You’d made plans earlier to hit the mall with a friend but they just canceled at the last minute, leaving you with an empty afternoon. You sigh already silently debating whether to just stay in or come up with something else to do.

Cait has been pacing around the living room, messing with her golf gear when she catches your sigh. She looks over her eyes lighting up as if a lightbulb just went off in her head.

“Plans fall through?” she asks walking over and leaning on the back of the chair across from you.

“Yeah” you reply, setting your phone down. “Guess I’m stuck here now.”

“Stuck here?” Caitlin grins like she’s been waiting for this opening. “Or… you could come golfing with me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Not this again.”

“Come on” she says circling the table to stand beside you. “It’s perfect! You’ve got nothing else to do, and I’ve got a tee time. Plus I need a partner.”

You arch a brow at her. “Partner? Or someone to show off for?”

“Baby, I would never show off.” she says, though the twinkle in her eyes suggests otherwise. She leans down..her face close to yours. “I’ll be your personal coach. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. It’ll be fun, just you and me.”

You snort. “You’re gonna be my personal golfer girl?...”

“Yep, that’s what I’m here for!” she says, straightening up. “I’ll start you off slow. Show you how to hold the club, line up your shots by the end of the day, you’ll be killing it.”

You tilt your head, amused. “And if I’m awful?”

She places a hand over her heart, her voice turning sweet. “Then I’ll still love you, even if you’re the worst golfer in history.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “I don’t know…”

“Please, baby?” Caitlin moves behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and resting her chin on top of your head. “It’ll be a cute little date. Just us, cruising around in a golf cart soaking up the sun. I’ll even let you pick the music for the ride.”

You glance up at her. “The entire playlist?”

She grimaces but nods. “Even your cringy guilty pleasure songs.”

You bite your lip pretending to reconsider. “Tempting...”

“Fine…what if I throw in ice cream after?” she adds, giving you her best puppy dog eyes. “I’ll even let you pick the place.”

You laugh finally giving in. “Okay baby, but I call driving the golf cart!”

Caitlin beams, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling you up from your chair. “Whatever… you’re gonna love it, I promise.”

The drive to the course is filled with Caitlin’s nonstop chatter. She’s clearly hyped, between explaining the different clubs and teasing you about being a great coach. “I bet you’ll nail at least one shot today” she says with a wink. “And when you do, I’ll totally take credit for it.”

You shake your head and laugh. “Sure, Coach Clark.”

When you arrive Cait wastes no time, guiding you through the basics. She hands you a club and positions herself behind you, her hands gently adjusting your grip. “Okay babe, so just relax” she says, her voice low and soothing. “Keep your eye on the ball, and follow through like this.”

You nod letting her guide you for the first few swings. The shots are decent, but nothing impressive. Caitlin cheers you on regardless, offering tips and encouragement with every swing. You can tell she’s enjoying herself, and honestly you’re having fun with her. But then it’s your turn to take a real shot.

You step up lining up your stance and gripping the club just right. You take a deep breath, then swing with confidence. The ball soars through the air landing cleanly on the green.

Caitlin’s jaw drops. “Wait, what?”

You suppress a grin as she rushes over to you. “That was perfect!” she says, wide eyed. “Do it again.”

You shrug pretending it was a fluke, but your next shot is just as good. Caitlin stares at you, clearly in disbelief. “Okay seriously babe….where did this come from?”

You bite your lip, hesitating for a moment before dropping the bomb. “Well… my ex taught me...”

Caitlin freezes her expression shifting from shock to a mix of disgust and mild jealousy. “Your ex?”

You nod, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, they made me go to the driving range almost every other weekend.”

She groans dramatically throwing her head back. “Ew, Y/N! Why would you tell me that?”

“You asked!” you say laughing at her reaction.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect that answer,” she grumbles crossing her arms. “Now I’m picturing some loser trying to impress you on the course. Gross.”

You grin stepping closer. “Jealous?”

“No” she says quickly, though the slight flush in her cheeks tells a different story. “I just think it’s weird that anyone else ever got to teach you anything. That’s my job.”

You wrap your arms around her waist pulling her close. “Well baby, for what it’s worth…I like being out here with you way more.”

She softens, her pout fading into a smile. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now and for the record, I’m way cooler than your ex.”

“Oh, way cooler,” you agree leaning in to kiss her.

For the rest of the game Cait makes it her mission to outdo you…though she can’t help but laugh whenever you land another perfect shot. By the end of the day she’s both impressed and annoyed.

“You totally hustled me, darlin..” she says as you load the clubs back into the car.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you sweat a little” you tease grinning.

She wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walk. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You lean into her smiling. “And you’re lucky I love you, even when you’re a sore loser.”

She laughs squeezing you tighter against. “Next time I’m bringing my A-game so you better be ready.”

“Oh, I’ll be ready.”

[kyra-cooneyx]

coffee — a.russo x reader

summary: you finally put an end to meeting up with alessia post-breakup

“if you stare at that phone any harder it might just blow up.”

katie dropped into the spot next to you on the dressing room, frowning at the lack of reaction she received. then you blinked and hummed but there was still a blank look on your face.

“you still with us nasa?” she asked, nudging you harshly. it knocked you out of whatever daze you were in and you scowled at her.

“katie that hurt.”

“it was supposed to,” katie scoffed, running her eyes over you. “what’s the matter?”

“what?” you glanced at her. “nothing. m’fine.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” katie shook her head. “and even if you weren’t, your body language would give you away. you’re very tense.”

“oh my god, go away and leave me alone.” you hissed, glaring daggers at her.

katie held her hands up in surrender and to her credit, immediately got up. but not even a minute later, you caught her whispering something to leah and then the blonde was heading your way.

“she’s such a snitch,” you muttered to yourself, staring at leah as she sat where katie did. “what?”

she stared back, a hard look on her face. “yeah, no, absolutely not. drop the attitude and tell me what’s pissed you off on that phone.”

“i’m not pissed off leah, i just—“ you breathed deeply, absentmindedly drumming your fingers along the device. “alessia wants to meet up after the match next week.”

leah shifted, eyebrows furrowed. “okay.”

really she had every right to be confused. despite breaking up over a year before due to your sudden transfer to arsenal, you and alessia had had multiple meet ups.

but they always ended the same way. and you could no longer take the heart ache that followed the morning after. the other ache wasn’t quite so bad.

“so what’s the problem?” leah’s question brought you back to reality and you shrugged slightly.

“i don’t think i want to.”

“then tell her that.”

the thought of rejecting her offer had occurred to you not long after the text had come through but you couldn’t do it. saying no to alessia was never easy and for some reason it never got any easier.

“can’t.” you mumbled and leah sighed at how sad you truly looked.

she didn’t really know what went on with you and alessia but she always noticed how down you were afterwards, the way you’d curl into yourself and push katie away when she poked at you in an attempt to cheer you up.

“well why don’t you meet yourself halfway?” leah suggested. “if you can’t not meet her, do something small and not what you usually do.”

you wracked your brain for the common denominator of your other meet ups. why did you always end up in bed with your ex girlfriend?

alcohol.

maybe if you didn’t go for dinner or meet at a local bar it wouldn’t end the way it usually did. maybe you wouldn’t wake up filled with embarrassment and rage, promising yourself that it would never get that far with her again.

maybe it wouldn’t end in tears. maybe alessia wouldn’t make you leave or she wouldn’t disappear before you woke up.

maybe maybe maybe.

“i still love her leah,” you said softly. “so maybe we can get coffee.”

after leah nodded in approval you texted alessia back with the suggestion, heart dropping when the read sign popped up but not a text bubble.

but then it changed.

you couldn’t tell what alessia really felt about the arrangement you proposed but she agreed and that’s all that really mattered to you.

-

“are you sure this is a good idea?” steph asked as you threw your hair up into a neatly messed up bun.

“it’s just coffee.”

“make it sure it stays that way.” the australian said pointedly.

you knew she was referring to last time. a dinner that ended with you both drinking a little too much, alessia’s words slurred but imprinted in your brain. let’s get back together. only for her to wake up the next morning seemingly forgetting everything she’d said the night before and leaving you a sobbing mess on the doorstep of beth’s house.

“no alcohol stephy, i promise,” you smiled slightly at her through the mirror. “just coffee.”

“just coffee,” she repeated. “i do not want to have you stumbling back here drunk out of your mind at stupid-o’clock in the morning because she’s kicked you out again.”

hearing it out loud made you shift uncomfortably. sure it wasn’t the first time one of the girls had made a snide comment about the situation, none of them had ever really done anything but comfort you.

“i’ll be fine steph.”

you grabbed your bag and shot out of the room before she could say anything else, heading towards the cute little coffee shop that was located just down the road.

but steph’s words echoed in your head, a pit forming in your stomach. what if it wasn’t a good idea? you couldn’t remember the last time you’d left alessia’s presence in a good mood. but maybe being sober would change it all. or maybe it would be the thing to really put everything into perspective.

did you want to go back to the girls miserable and filled with self-loathing again? no. and with every step you took, the battle in your brain got harder to win. the cons started to outweigh the pros and the pit kept getting deeper and deeper.

as you stopped near the coffee shop, you peered in to see alessia sat at a table, head bowed at she stared down at her phone, a single cup of coffee in front of her.

your hands shook as you pulled your phone from your bag, sending alessia a quick text to tell her that you couldn’t make it before quickly shoving it back into your bag and walked away.

it buzzed and buzzed but you didn’t look at it. you knew that it would be her asking why and then when you gave her some lame excuse, she’d convince to go anyway and you would, folding to her every demand like you usually did.

because when it came to you and alessia, it would never be just coffee.

[nekovmancer]

Hmm, how about your favorite overwatch characters with a tall reader?

Overwatch characters with a tall reader, featuring Ramattra, Junkrat, and Mauga

warnings: nsfw ahead! mentions and displays of size kink, dom/sub dynamics, nudity, degrading, sex, hatesex, masturbation etc etc

a/n: heyyy, anon! I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG *sniff sniff* Thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!! I will take this very opportunity to be a bit… naughty and make this hcs nsfw flavored (maybe these will be the ones making me less self conscious of my smut writing… we’re hoping so). Also!! Will write for different characters this turn, despite Ramattra ofc; he’s my soulmate, I can’t help but simp. *maybe I will do a version with Junker Queen, Ashe aaaand Ana later, rn I just wanted to give you this piece dkwajfk **reposting bc i guess my stupid try of posting during the afternoon plus being aesthetic FAILED KJDWKAF

OPEN FOR HEADCANON REQUESTS! Send yours here, but me mindful of my rules (I may write for other characters other them the listed if you ask nicely)

!! NSFW UNDER THE CUT ⚠︎ MINORS DNI

Ramattra

He was built to be tall, standing above the tropes as Anubis’ commander of a deadly army; a living weapon in all meanings. So it’s an admirable surprise to find someone who, despite not matching his fully extension, can almost face him directly  

He finds it… a bit challenging at first, also because you do challenge him with the unnerving comments you call opinions, and it’s so much worse when it ends up you were right all along

A human, who should be inferior to him not only in intellectual aspects, but in constitution as also, and it’s none of it at all? I mean, big fella is so mad at it that it’s actually a shame how much he gets turned on by all this hatred

And as despise grows inside him, burning his circuits by the memory of you alone, something else finds a room to sneak in, making these heated feelings even worse

How he would love to silence this clever tongue of yours whenever you used it against him, to have you swallow all of your words instead of him being the one to gulp his pride as trying to untangle the mess you made of him with your words only

Ramattra wants revenge on all the times you’ve made a fool of him, to let you know who is really above here; not only by the few inches that apart your heights, but to clearly state for once who’s the superior being

And when you dare to use your tongue against him again, an argument about to explode… let’s just say you both find it a better use. A much, much better one.

Now you’re the one to be taken by surprise, finding yourself fitting his length all the way down to your throat; a few gags here and there, but still your mouth circles his cock almost perfectly, as it was made for you and for you only. Well… you’re not sure about it, not even why a R-7000 of all omnics had a dick module installed nice and ready, but this was no time to ask, was it?

What you do know is how sensitive it is, for the way Ramattra flinches when your tongue touches his tip before running all the way down. You know he’s doing his best to keep his usual steadiness, stopping the grunts that are vocalized with a little static, after all, his pride was his to maintain unharmed; or as little as he could. The failing is obvious, but still it’s damn amusing to see how even under him, you got the upper hand nonetheless

That’s when he catches you grinning like a devil, your tongue swirling around and the warm wetness of your mouth driving him fucking insane; something you already did with no effort, but now… it’s divine as much as it’s wicked. A creature like you, a pathetic human with little care for danger sucking a goddamn Ravager out of his mind. Maybe he should give you more credit… Once he’s done, who knows, right now he can’t think of other thing but you, kneeling between his legs, taking him without a trouble; as you’ve desired this longer than he did

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he groans, fingers finding their way through your hair, hissing when he grabs a handful too close to the scalp, tight enough for your skin to burn in response. The reply is right there, on the tip of your tongue… but your grin just gets wider before you could come up with it. “Don’t act like you aren’t.”

Junkrat

When he looks up at you, it’s almost like you can see the stars sparkling in his eyes. Amazed is one way to describe it, but if he was the one in charge of choosing a word for this feeling it would totally be: SMASH! 

Definitely, Junkrat would love to be smashed by you. One recurrent and very dirty thought of his is to have you sitting on his face, dwarfing his frame with yours, until his moans were suffocated by your skin as he indecently runs his tongue all around your soft spots

He can’t help being a bit of a slut, actually. Always touchy and clingy, running his fingers around the lines on your palm, claiming how big your fingers are and then wondering how they would feel if you randomly smacked them right into his cheek. Oh, how sad it would be… and the great pain that would come… dude has a boner before he can think twice

A masochist and proud, thank you. To be spanked and have his pleasure denied by you? The thought of it already has him nuts! Junkrat is one who loves to be mistreated already, and by a stunning person such as yourself just makes it even better

Most of the time, you’re the one on top, and he insists it’s like this. If you’re riding him, you can totally use his neck for support, of course! Please, just do it with your big fucking hands and choke him until his face burns red. Hell, he’ll take everything with an enormous goofy smile to his lips, braincells going dead with each bounce of your hips making the pressure on his neck rougher and rougher

Pinning him against a wall is a MUST. He will blush and squirm pathetically as you lean on, barely making with a sloppy kiss before turning a mess of himself from how his whole body quivers in anticipation, a huge bulge to his pants that definitely will end up being rubbed on your thigh, perfectly fit between his legs; and even raising him a little bit

Eager to try something new, making quite a pervy genius as he comes up with toys you don’t even know that existed in shape and length, some of them his own making. Junkrat’s favorite by now is wax play, which has him trembling and almost imploding when the warm wax touches his skin, tracing patterns all along his back as he shivers and moans your name over and over. And, again, if you’re down for it he’ll beg for you to sit on top of him while you do it

Just. sit. on. him. But not on his lap, no: he wants you to be laying under you, to have his figure clouded by your shadow, at your full mercy and… yeah, also your chest is actually really really great to be seen from this angle. And your face, oh your face! It’s just one hundred times meaner when you stare at him from above, asking who’s your little slut

“IT’S ME! IT’S ME!”

Enjoys degrading much more than he should. At first you’re uneasy about saying such things, but again: Junkrat insists. He wants to hear you putting him in his place, calling him pet names that state you’re the one in control… he’s yours to be tortured until he’s crying out from pleasure. Still, he will beg for more

“A lil’ bit harder won’t hurt, y’know? Well- who am I trying to fool here? ‘Course it will hurt, bring it on!”

In the aftermath, he IS the little spoon, no point arguing. And with the height difference between you, his body fits much better in yours this way, so there isn’t a reason to complain, actually

Mauga

Dude is big already and always thought the little ones were so fun to ruin. So when you tag along with Tallon, standing a few inches under his shoulder length… a whole lot of new ideas instantly pop into his head. And boy, none of them are less than nasty

Mauga tries to corner you everytime, pinning you down a wall would be a statement, but… your faces are pretty much on the same level, so there’s no down here, and you easily brush him off around his first eleven tries. Well, plan B was to stay in front of you during missions and then ooopsieeee… falling down on top of you while so innocently trying to prevent you from being damaged. All of it for your well being, damn!

Reaper has scolded you both for it despite you having nothing to do with whatever Mauga thinks he’s doing with those stupid muscles, the obvious flirtation and that ridiculously charming smirk… oh, fuck him!

Even when you had a spare day to keep your mind cool, there he was, testing your nerves. You’re doing great on ignoring him, until the bastard shot a compliment to your body, and you did blush madly with each word he spoke evenly

“You have such beautiful long legs, y’know? Tch, you’d need a pair of big hands to smooth them right,” the most shameless smirk ever follows along, and despite you feel like smacking it out of Mauga’s face… you feel something tingling under your skin

Still, the best way to deal with a teaser is to not let them embarrass you. Direct confrontation should do, and despite your burning cheeks stating the contrary, you had the guts to stare right into his eyes and dare him to do it so, since he had hands big enough for the job

That’s how you ended up fucking. 

Before you knew it, your face was pressed against the wall, a cold contrast to Mauga’s fever pitched body behind you, pressing you further as his hand get rid of your pants, leaving the free way to skin to touch skin

Indeed, his hands were more than fitting the run along the extension of your tights, leaving nothing untouched as they reached for the inner parts, brushing against your core until you’re swallowing thick 

“Told ya’, darling. You just needed the right guy for it,” is it questionable that of all options you could have, he would be the right one? Yes. Would you contest him as his fingers teased you further? Absolutely not. You couldn’t care less for all the shit he had ever done as your underwear is pulled, thick fingers trailing their way between your folds as he already knew you for ages

All Mauga could think as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them inside and reaching for that sweet spot as his other hand muffles your fucking delicious moans, is how you’re a perfectly fit for each other. The way his body molds itself against yours, the little difference just makes it even perfect, how effortless you’ve given yourself to him… oh, he’s your soulmate, for sure

This man turns out to be absolutely obsessed with you, your body, your voice: everything. Both of his hearts are beating for you, and only you… and say toodaloo to your peace, ‘cause he won’t leave your heel any sooner 

[geekforhorror]

Clay beresford with coworker! Reader and promoter #34?

night shift

pairing: ceo clay beresford x assistant fem!reader

prompt: “I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional”

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!clay, sub!reader, forbidden romance, hickeys, teasing, angst.

a/n: i was too lazy to finish this sorry yall 😓

It was just another night shift at the office. Your boss, Clay, was running a bit behind on his work and he asked if you could stay overtime and help him out. If you had been working for anyone else, you would’ve said no instantly, but he wasn’t like anyone else. He was nice, charming, and hot…annoyingly hot.

Every time you stepped into the office, you were always greeted by him and his dreamy smile. He made sure to always give you credit where it was due since you worked so hard. It was safe to say both of you harbored feelings more than any coworkers should.

You were currently climbing up the stairs with two coffees in your hands, preparing for the long work night ahead of you two. You finally reach his office space before knocking on the door.

“Come in!” Clay gently says in a volume you can hear. You do as the man asks and you finally open the door, trying to balance the coffee at the same time so it doesn’t spill. That would be more than embarrassing for you in front of your boss.

“I got us some coffees,” you say cheerfully.

“You didn’t have to,” he says with a big smile on that beautiful face of his.

“Well I wanted to,” you say, now returning his smile before handing him his cup.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Clay says.

“Well that’s something you’ll never have to worry about,” you respond.

Clay brings the cup up to his lips before taking a big sip of coffee. Shortly after, he sets the cup on the table.

“Does it taste good? I hope I didn’t mess it up,” you say with worry.

“You did it just right,” Clay chuckles.

“Okay good, then we can start with the paperwork,” you say with relief. There was something odd that you saw in Clay’s face when you said that. He looks at you like he’s guilty of something…like he wants to get something off his chest. “Mr. Beresford, what’s wrong?”

“Please call me Clay,” he answers.

“Clay, what’s wrong?” you say full of concern.

“The truth is…there is no paperwork,” he says.

Wait what?

“Then why do you want to see me,” you ask.

“I want you,” he rasps before moving his way towards you.

“Clay, we can’t…” you let out.

“I’m afraid I can no longer stay professional,” Clay admits before kissing you hungrily on the lips. His hands cradle your face as the kiss grows deeper, only causing you to moan. He pulls away, but only for a second. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to see you every day and not be able to do something about it, sweetheart?” he says full of frustration.

“I’ve wanted this too, Clay,” you say, full of desperation. You needed him.

“Then let me ravage you the way you deserve,” he says huskily.

This was wrong. You should tell him to stop, but you weren’t. Instead, you allow him to keep caressing your body which only makes him pull you closer to him. He hoists you up, your legs now wrapped around him, never wanting to let him go.

“Please Clay…do something…anything,” you beg.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he replies.

With that, he sets you down on his desk, clearing everything out of the path and onto the now messy floor. He usually hated messes, but he didn’t give a damn if it meant he could finally show you how much he wanted you. You lay there, anticipating his next move, which comes sooner than you think when he latches his lips onto your collarbone.

“Good thing we have the office all to ourselves, darling.”

[littlenahsstuff]

Sugar, Spice, Not Nice

Bridget x Demigod!reader

Requested by @ladyqueenxoxo

Synopsis:You are hades niece. No one knows you are a demigod or that you are staying with Hades. You hang around his group but don’t fit in at all. You try your hardest but sometimes you crave the sweetest things in life. You are handpicked to mess with Bridget in order to prove yourself. No one knows you are dating her either.

Warnings: not proofread! Bullying. Uliana’s an asshole. I’m not sure how much I like this one, but the endings nice.

Word count: 2.3k

~~~~~

The Vks all sat around one of the courtyard tables. You had to try your hardest not to gag at Hades and Maleficent. It didn’t end well the last time you did. You were lost in thought, thinking about your wonderful girlfriend Bridget.

What kind of sweets will she make today? Maybe I can help her after-

“I’m bored, someone come up with something interesting to do” Uliana demands.

Maybe Bridget will bake-

“Uh hello, earth to Y/n!” Uliana screeches. You immediately focus.

“Oh uh, sorry..” you trail. You know you’ve messed up again based off of the look on Ulianas face.

“What have I told you about apologizing. Seriously for being the only one to care about those stupid honors classes you sure are a grade A imbecile,” she responds and the others laugh at you. You just nod and shrink a little.

“Hey Uli,” Hook starts. He’s looking at you menacingly. “I think the honors girl here needs some sort of extra credit. Let’s give her something evil to do!” The panic is growing exponentially. You haven’t had to actually do anything evil yet, mainly sending some half-assed insults.

Uliana’s grin grows. “Why do you look so nervous Y/n? Scared of doing a little bad? I guess you do need it. The petty thievery and cheating doesn’t cut it anymore.”

“No, I’m just having an off day,” you excuse. You gulp. You’ve also tripped a couple of people and maybe driven Ulianas car as the getaway driver while they stole a hamster from the store. You felt so bad for the little guy. It’s not like you were the meanest but looking back on it you sure as hell were bad a lot.

“Well… in that case” Uliana’s voice gets high pitched. “We should give you something easy! Why don’t you prank Bridget for me. I have yet to do it this year, with the fresh meat and all that.” You get confused and terrified. “You’re new, but Bridget happens to be my favorite target. I always typically set aside the nastiest of my plans for her.” She cackles, making the already cavernous pit in your stomach bigger.

“Oh really?” You say. You can tell any strength in your voice is gone.

“Yeah, so… this year we were planning something a little more personal. We know Bridget takes those stupid honors classes too. That makes you the perfect candidate for this particular prank,” Uliana chuckles darkly. “That brat is always trying to make friends, so let’s give her exactly what she wants. Once you manage to do so you are to hide these magic beans in her room.” She held out the beans and they shimmered. Magic beans were totally illegal and would get Bridget expelled if anyone found it. You twiddle your thumbs as a slight sweat breaks out.

“But- what if-“ you’re cut off.

“Come on y/n don’t be so chicken!” Hook laughs. You look at hades and he sends you back with a raised brow.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You say. Uliana breaks into a wicked grin. The bell chimes.

“Great. It’s almost first period, why don’t you hop along,” she finishes and motions for you to leave with her hand. You nod, grab the beans, and rush to class.

You decide you have to tell Bridget, even if it might leave you without any friends.

You get to Honors Alchemy 2 just in the nick of time, meeting Bridget at the front. She squeals and gives you a hug. You awkwardly pat her back and look around.

When she pulls away her smile disappears. You take a deep breath.

“Bridget…” you start with a gulp, “I may have gotten myself into trouble.” She gasps.

“Not yet,” you continue, it’s- well. Uliana gave me some magic beans and told me to put them in your room as some sort of prank. I know how evil it is and I’m really sorry.” You said it so fast you had to take a big inhale. Bridget softens.

“Sugar, it’s okay,” she grabs your arm.

“I just don’t know what to do. I mean, they’re my only friends other than you and- well I fear going against- he won’t like- oh.” You pause, realizing Bridget deserves to know of your situation eventually.

“It’ll be okay! But I might be a little confused, who’s he?” She gets that adorable big stare you love whenever she needs help. It makes you melt a little.

“Hades is… my uncle. Only him and Maleficent know. He is technically my guardian while he is on Olympic probation. My dad added me onto the punishment,” you whisper before chuckling bitterly. “I just worry he’ll get even more angry at me when we’re home.” You look down. Bridget stops it with a hand tilting your face to look at her.

“You should never have to worry about that. But wait, dad… as in?” She questions.

“Zeus… I’m a demigod…” you squeak. Her eyes bulge for a second.

“Do you have powers too!?” She almost yells. You shush her.

Professor Merlin clears his throat,

“Ladies, class must begin. I do hope you’ll keep the chatter to a minimum.” He grumbles, not too angrily, however.

“Yes, um could we maybe talk more about this after school? I still have no clue how I’m to go about this,” you request. She nods enthusiastically. The rest of class you focus on getting a good lab grade and do in fact keep the chatter to a minimum. Bridget seems excited the whole time but you just feel awful still for getting mixed up in this mess.

***

When you were done with your classes for the day, you met up with Bridget in her room. You waited nervously before knocking.

When you did she opened the door with a smile.

“Come on in!” She says. She looks adorable in her pink pjs, they fit her personality to a t.

You walk in and she grabs your hands to lead you to her bed.

“So…” she chuckles awkwardly, “do you know what you’re gonna do?” You look down and sigh.

“I had an idea I guess. I was thinking maybe I hide the beans and just try avoiding the group as much as possible. If they say anything I’ll just match their energy and tell them I don’t wanna do the prank or hang out with them. Does that sound good?” You question. Any input would be useful.

Bridget yums but nods, “As long as you’re safe I don’t see why that plan wouldn’t work.” She taps her fingers on her leg.

“Thanks B, I’m a little nervous but everything will work out. Um, anything you wanna know about the whole demigod thing. I’m really sorry for not telling you. I just wanted to be somewhat normal.” You admit sheepishly. She gives you a soft smile.

“Normal is boring, but I understand. Just tell me anything you want to” she resolves. She grabs your hand and holds it.

You take a deep breath, “Well, I age normally, I have these little sparky things when I get really angry but other than that I get hurt the same as everyone else. I don’t really have any more powers than that though. I’m not magic like you are,” you add.

“What about your family,” you get a little bit more sad at that.

“Or, y-you don’t have to tell me!” Bridget fixes.

“No I can tell you. I’m not really allowed on Olympus that much. My mother died when I was really young, hence why Hades is hosting me. He can be chill. He likes doing evil things a lot but he usually doesn’t have a care about anything.” Bridget looks at you and gives you a hug.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, it must still be hard. But the sparky thing is really cool. Maybe I’ll get to see it one day!” She says. You smile.

“Maybe.”

She gasps making you jump a little with how loud it was.

“Hey I have an idea,” she says, “why don’t we go out and get some ice cream!” She squeals and stands up. She pulls you up with a sudden strength, twirling you into her. You both start giggling.

“That sounds very nice Princess B. You know all the ways to my heart.

****

Gapetto’s Gelato was in walking distance in the nearby town. You and Brigette talk about school and a bunch of other random things, giggling and having such a good time. You didn’t even realize you were there.

“Okay I’ll get the ice cream, Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles still?” You ask and she nods.

You go up to the window and go to order it, as soon as you open your mouth you hear very familiar voices behind you. You whip around to see Uliana holding Bridget’s purse way above her head.

“Relax Bridgy, we just want some money to buy icecream! You should understand since you love sweets so much. You should be careful anyways, you might be looking chubby!” Uliana spits, waving it just out of her reach. Your skin prickles. You walk away and shout out a sorry to Gapetto.

“I’ll be back.”

“Uliana come on, just give me my bag. You’re gonna break it!” Bridget stresses. She’s stopped trying to jump for it.

“What, too much exercise? Told you you’re getting chubby!” Hook cackles. Your skin now feels like it’s on fire and you tense up. A faint buzzing can be heard.

“Give. It. Back.” You grit through your teeth. Bridget looks at you, you can’t tell if she wants you to stay out of it or not but either way you’re helping her.

“Oh! Looks like you were doing what you were supposed to, for once. Well, i rather mess with her myself. Your services are no longer required.” Uliana says while another one of her tentacles pushes Bridget hard on the ground.

“The moneys not even in there,” Bridget whimpers. As if lightning courses through your vains you stand up straight and try to hold back. You can feel the sparks forming up your arms.

“I’m giving you one chance Uliana, leave now,” you stomp your foot.

“Ugh, why are you acting like this. Here; take your ugly bag pink piggy,” Uliana says as she hurls it at her. Bridget looks so scared but you manage to catch it by the strap just in time. Uliana cackles. Bridget looks like she’s about to cry and you look down to see it completely ripped.

“Oops… oh well, it was almost as ugly as y-“ before Uliana can finish what she says, you blast a huge lightning bolt at her feet causing her to yelp. “Oh you little shit!” Uliana tries to slam a tentacle into you, you grab it and it spasms away. She lets out another yelp. You hold up your burnt fists at her.

“Try it again fish for brains. I never want to see you around Bridget again. I’m done being your pawn. Bridget is more genuine and beautiful than you could ever be. She’s smart and kind and the best goddamn baker there is and even if she were to get chubby, which she’s not! She would be so much hotter than you on any given day!” You scream. She just rolls her eyes and backs up.

“Fine freak,” she says and walks (stumbles) away with a cackling Hook. You whip around and make sure all of the energy is dispelled. Since you aren’t raging right now it is but you hold out a hand to Bridget. She grabs it and you try not to wince at the sting when you pull her up.

“Woah that was- thank you! No one’s ever done that for me before.” Bridget says incredulously. She pulls you by your arms into a kiss. “I love you- Y/n?!” Is the last thing you hear before fainting.

***

When you awake you are in Bridget’s dorm, feeling sore as shit. Bridget here’s shuffling and immediately rushes over to your side.

“Hey there sugar,” she says softly. “I take it that your powers did this?” She carefully picks up your bandaged hands. You chuckle.

“Yup, cursed with a painful gift. I’m sorry for them. If I had known they were always such assholes to you, I would’ve made her into fried calamari sooner.” You giggle. Bridget smiles.

“Well; I hope you never have to do that to yourself again. But… you were- ARE amazing. I love you so much already.” Bridget kisses you on the cheek.

“Can we cuddle. I feel so much better and I just want cuddles please?” You whine, give her your biggest puppy dog eyes. Despot looking very disheveled, Bridget can’t deny how adorable you look. She chuckles and nods, carefully peeling back your blankets and getting in next to you.

“I’m sorry about your bag,” you sigh.

“Don’t be, I’m a princess remember? I can get another one anytime,” she chuckles. You feel like smacking your head. Of course she can, she’s rich.

“Oh. Well, can we make out until my headache goes away?” You instead ask. Once again, making the puppy dog eyes.

“Of course my heart! How long do they usually last?” She asks. You sheepishly grin.

“A couple of days,” you reply, trying to wiggle your eyebrows.

“Well, we better get started then.” She grips your chin softly and gives you a peck before going into the real kiss. Her lips taste like the color pink and sugar and you can’t help but feeling you only ever need her. Princess Bridget will forever be known as the love of your life.

[lightsoutletsgo]

gotta go my own way — ln.4

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst to absolute crack and stupidity that makes no sense

request: Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

I fully thank @norrizzandpia for the hot mess that is the end of this fic. we couldn't stop cry laughing once we pictured the rest of the grid watching them sing the song and thus the end of the fic was born. (also credits to them bc I stole some of the dialogue lines they sent to my dm's!) happy reading! mimi 🤍 (I'm so so sorry if this isn't the request fill you were hoping for 😭)

taglist (all works): @arieslost - babe I'm so sorry I'm tagging you in this mess

“Y/N wait!!” You heard Lando call your name from the opposite side of the hotel courtyard and you turned to see him sprinting after you. You stopped and rested your suitcase next to you as he reached you, “Where are you going? Baby we can talk about this!” His hand reached for your arm and you stepped back with a sigh, “Lando… Listen…” He looked at you, pleading as he searched your face, “I guess I just need to say it straight right?” Your heart clenched, god knows this wasn’t easy, “Something about us just… doesn’t seem right these days…” You tried to speak as gently as possible, wanting Lando to understand you weren’t mad at him. “Neither one of us can help it, I know that, but it feels like whatever we try and do somehow the plan is always rearranged…” You trailed off, stepping back towards him and taking his hand gently. You didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look at where his hand was now gently squeezing yours, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion. Whether it was to soothe you or himself you weren’t sure but you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 

He didn’t say a thing, just gave you the space to continue talking, “I knew what I signed up for when I started dating you and if I went back and did it all over again I wouldn’t change my mind. I guess I just didn’t expect that it would affect my life so much? My job, my friends, my family?” Your eyes flitted up to his and you noticed how there were tears now pricking the corner of his eyes. “So what are you saying?” Your bottom lip trembled as you shrugged apologetically, “I’ve got to move on and be who I am…” It was so silent that you hardly dared to breathe. “Lando I’ve tried, I really really have but… Losing my privacy? Losing my time with the other people I love? Sacrificing my job? I just-” Lando scoffed and took his hand away from you “But what about us? What about everything we’ve been through?” “Well what about trust and everything that I’ve given up for you?!” You couldn’t help the way you raised your voice, Lando flinched at your words, seeming to realise how blind he’d been about your struggles, 

“You know I never wanted to hurt you…” You nodded and almost shrunk in on yourself, “I know…” Lando approached you slowly, not wanting to make you feel pressured or smothered, “I just need to know… Do you not love me anymore?” You let out a forced laugh as your eyes welled up with tears, “Do I not love you anymore? Lando I still love you so much that it’s killing me to do this but I know I have to-” “Why? If you still love me then why?!” “Because if I don’t leave you now then I’ll continue to give up everything else for you because I love you that damn much but maybe for a while I need to love myself!” You ranted, panting when you finished. 

He inhaled sharply and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall as you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry- “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was firm,  “I have to go, my flight is in a couple of hours.” “I’ll miss you.” His voice was even softer, barely audible even though you were so close to him. “Who knows… maybe we’ll find our place in the world someday?” Lando gave a weak smile, “Yeah, maybe we will… Can I hug you? Just once more and then I swear, I’ll let you leave.” You nodded, unable to speak as you started crying harder.

Lando pulled you into his arms, as he too felt the tears start to fall, “I know you need to do this but it still really fucking hurts…” “I know Lando,” You pulled back to gently cup his face, “I gotta go my own way…” You smiled with a shrug. He pulled you closer to him and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, your eyes closing as you inhaled deeply. “I’ll see you round?” “Yeah,” You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and started to walk towards the door, “I’ll see you around.” ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Alex sat on the balcony of his hotel room that overlooked the courtyard, enjoying the cool night air. The door opened and out stumbled Oscar and Logan, their eyes glassy from the alcohol they’d been drinking at the afterparty. Alex chuckled, “Steady on guys.” Logan gave him a hazy half-lidded smile, “I’m okay!” Alex snorted, “Sure you are.” He turned his attention back to his laptop where his movie was paused. “Oh look! There’s Lando and Y/N!” Alex followed where Oscar was pointing to see you dragging your suitcase and Lando running after you. “Oooo I missed them! Should I call them over? HEY LA- MMPH!” Logan’s shout was muffled by Alex darting to cover his mouth, “I think they’re fighting?” Oscar looked sad as Logan tapped Alex’s arm to release him, “Surely not? They’re the perfect couple?” Alex leaned over the balcony, thankful that it was quiet enough that they could hear some of the conversation.

“What’s up guys?” The door on the balcony of the room next door slid open and out stepped George and Charles, “Lando and Y/N are fighting?” “Lando and Y/N? There’s no way! They’ll work it out.” Charles said confidently shrugging. Oscar’s brows furrowed suddenly, “Are you guys hearing that music too?” George frowned and craned his ears, “Why does that sound like High School Musical?” “Alex, is your film playing?” Logan asked innocently, “You were watching High School Musical?” Oscar snickered, “NO!” “I don’t know if I should be more concerned that we’re hearing music coming from nowhere or that George knew what it was straight away…” George scoffed at Charles, “Excuse me but the second movie has the best songs.” 

“Is no one else concerned that it’s coming from where Lando and Y/N are?” Oscar pointed out. “Oh God they’re singing.” Alex’s jaw dropped open, “Shut up they’re not?” “I promise you they are.” George and Charles paused for a moment to look at each other before scrambling out of George’s room and down the hallway to Alex’s. They burst into the room and pushed their way onto the balcony, squishing in between Oscar and Alex to lean over the railing. Charles slapped a hand over his mouth as he heard Lando sing the next line very loudly and out of tune, “Are they high?” George pondered out loud, “What exactly is going on?” “Well it can’t be a fight, there’s no way that’s a fight.” Logan spoke matter of factly, “Do you think they’re aware of what they’re doing?” Their expressions varied as you warbled out a somewhat high note, 

“More than that, do you think they know we can hear them?” Logan’s hand came up to cover his ear, “Should we stop them?” Charles asked, “Nope!” “Absolutely not.” George and Alex spoke across each other as Oscar’s phone appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he held it up to start filming. “Are they okay?” Nobody answered Logan, instead just watching you and Lando, until they heard a cough from above them. Leaning back against the balcony and tipping their heads to look up they saw Carlos looking down at them, “That, my friends, is debatable. But it is entertaining, no?” Everyone’s attention turned back to the two of you as the song came to an end and you walked away from Lando, “Oh my god guys, I think that was actually them breaking up.” Logan stated as everyone stood there in shock. Nobody spoke for a moment until Carlos’ voice filtered down from the balcony above, “Also I’ve been out here the entire time and would like to let you know that Alex was actually watching Camp Rock.” 

[peterparkersnose]

I Need You More Than I Wanted To

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: needy din, lowkey out of character but idc, pining possibly one sided, lots of begging, angst, description of y/n’s body, masturbation reference if you squint HARD, sappy speeches at the end, arguing, lots of angst (bc angst is my favorite)

a/n i’ve had this idea in my drafts for MONTHS so i’m so happy i’ve gotten around to writing it.

summary Y/N overhears a damaging conversation between Din and Greef Karga

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 11 mins 8 seconds

Din’s heart ached like no other watching you these past few days. The silent suffering, the longing, and the pain he has been observing was hard to watch; the hardest part was that he was the reason for this.

He knew you like the back of his hand. For years the two of you have been traveling the galaxy, searching for as many credits as possible and managing to have a fun time while doing it. Living life with you is how Din preferred it. It was carefree. The two of you made a great team and wanted to live lavishly one day. That was the dream, at least. The two of you saved credits like crazy, but it never seemed to be enough to purchase a palace. Once the kid came along everything changed. The sudden dream of living large seemed to fade over the horizon. Something clicked. The two of you were now parents.

When Greef mentioned to him about you when the two of you visited the new Nevarro, Din was sure he was just messing with him.

“Are you two finally together?”

The question confused Din.

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Din was shocked. Had he really been that clueless?

“That’s impossible,” Din responded. Greef laughed. “You're telling me that if she made the first move, you wouldn’t reciprocate it?”

A strict “No” came from Din. “Never.”

The child cooed and the two men turned around. There you stood in the doorway, waiting for them to finish their conversation. The exact conversation you had just overheard.

Your mouth slightly dropped. The expression on your face was shocked. You quickly blinked and closed your mouth, trying to mask your disappointment. But Din knew. Maybe it was enough to fool Greef Karga, but Din knew he had just hurt the person he cared for the most deeply.

“H-he wanted you,” you said silently, not expecting your voice to quiver. You set down Grogu on the red velvet couch. Din nodded. Your lip quivered as you stared at him through the visor in pure shock. With hurt in your eyes, you excused yourself to the shared quarters the two of you were given for the time of your stay.

“And that…” Greef began. Din scooped up Grogu in his arms. Grogu made a noise and grunted, seemingly wanting to now leave his father and attend to his heartbroken mother. He squirmed in Din’s arms until he let him down.

“That was the look of heartbreak.”

The next few days on Nevarro were filled with a cold distance. Neither you nor Din wanted to discuss the elephant in the room. Simple words were exchanged in the interest of the child, but that was about it.

It was your last night on Nevarro.

Din had been at the cantina with Greef Karga and some of his associates, celebrating the newly liberated Nevarro. You had gone to bed early, staying with Grogu.

You were surprised Din even agreed to go out, he hated outings such as drinking with friends. If things weren’t so heated at the moment, he would have much rather preferred a night staying in with you and watching some stupid show on your datapad and eating whatever your heart desired.

The sun had been set for hours. You were lounging in your satin red sleep robe that was complimentary given to you upon your arrival. The beautiful braid you had your hair up in all day was now gone, your hair was curled due to the all-day friction. The ladies assigned to your care were more than delightful. With the satin robes and braids you could never master, it was like you never wanted to leave. You lay on the king-sized bed you had been giving to Din the last few nights. The couch was beginning to hurt your back, and he was nowhere to be found. 

Grogu, still not asleep, was patting the lavish sheets with his hands. You smiled, watching the curious creature discover the new textures. Your eyes wandered to the marvelous carvings coated in gold paint that covered the pillars in your room. Eyes beginning to droop, you were suddenly awoken by a cold hand on your exposed thigh. 

“Buir!” he squealed. Recognizing the Mando’a right away, your thinned-lip smile turned into a frown. “I know,” you sighed, extending your hand towards the child and brushing the top of his head. “He’ll be back soon.”

Grogu crawled up your legs and onto your torso. Grogu began grabbing some of the strands of hair that lay on your chest, you slowly separated his hands from the grasp. “Good job on speaking, buddy.” you smiled, now sitting against the bedframe. Grogu sat in your lap, reaching for your hair once again. A genuine smile arose on your face as you watched your son rest in your lap. The thought of Din left your mind, but only temporarily. He seemed to haunt your dreams as he haunted your days. You fell asleep with Grogu in your lap. 

Din’s clanky armor trudged up the many stairs to the guest bedroom. It was almost like a full workout, he was ready to get into the shower and then get into bed. 

Din absolutely hated his time out; barely being able to sip his drink and listening to the arguing of men about topics he didn't even care about was not his idea of a good night. He didn't want to admit it though—he yearned to spend the night with you. You consumed his every thought, and with every sip of his strong alcohol, he just kept feeling worse and worse. The image of your face re played in his head all week. With the disappointment and hurt he never wanted to inflict on you, the guilt was building up in his stomach like no other. 

Slowly, his ungloved hand waved against the sensor. The door whirred open. Din hoped he didn’t wake you, it was already almost morning, even though the sunrise was hours away. He could hear the morning bugs begin to chirp on his way home. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he set his helmet down on the chair in the corner. He turned around to find you- his heart seemed to skip a beat. 

Laying in the silk robe you were gifted, your legs were parted awkwardly as you slept. You lay on your stomach with your face delved in a pillow. The slow movement of your back going up and down gave Din the confidence that you were okay. One arm lay at your side, the other cradled Grogu against your waist. His breath finally caught up with him once he realized he had been staring for too long. 

The only thing he could seem to think about in his shower was his best friend. The woman who had always been there for him. She was merely a partner until Greef suggested otherwise. The thought of even diving into anything romantic with you never crossed Din’s mind until then. His hand held his seemingly limp body on the wall, holding him upwards as the water washed over him. The thought of you sprawled out on the bed, on his bed was just… 

The thought went straight to his head, making him feel emotions for you he never had before. Your body, the way you lay, how you were protecting his son even in slumber. Everything about you seemed so appealing in a way Din had never felt for another woman. 

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Greef’s voice haunted Din’s mind as he slept. He woke up gasping for air on the couch. You turned to look at him but only for a moment. You made eye contact. It was rare you saw him without his helmet, and even rarer to make complete eye contact. Din wasn’t one for eye contact. Looking down, you continued to fold Grogu’s extra robes that were freshly cleaned and delivered to your room earlier this morning. You were packing to leave. 

Din sat upright, his hand holding his forehead. His head was pounding. Looking up, he noticed a glass of water and a few pills sitting on the table in front of him. Presumably set up for him, by you. His heart sank. Even in pain, you somehow still cared for him. He turned to look at you again. You were still getting Grogu ready to leave. He was jumping on the bed, making gargling noises as you tried to dress him. Din took the pills and finished the water and set the glass down with a clank, so you knew he had seen your gesture. 

“What time are we leaving?” he asked, standing up to finish his packing. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; his hair was disheveled and he was in need of a shave. He ran a hand over the patchy stubble on his cheeks. To his surprise, his bag was sitting packed on the same chair where he rested his helmet last night. His helmet was sitting on top of the bag. 

You sighed. “Din,” you croaked, saying his name for the first time in days. He looked over at you. The same pain was there, but the look of exhaustion followed it. “I-I’m not going.” 

His brows raised. A slight panic set in. “What do you mean, your not going?” he asked in a more hostile tone than needed. You drew in a sharp breath and looked back at the same gold detailing you were looking at the night before. “Grogu is packed,” you simply said, scooping the child up in your arms. He squealed at your embrace, cuddling up in your arms. It was the last time you were going to be with Grogu, at least for a while. “Greef invited us to breakfast,” you said, swiftly walking past Din to the door. Your attempt to leave was unsuccessful.

Din grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Grogu let out a whine, as he was shuffled in the hassle. No words had to be said, the stares you were giving each other were enough. Din tilted his head slightly. The feeling of you was slipping through his fingers. Memories of you two fighting bounties, saving credits for a future, and then raising Grogu together hurt him more than ever. You were already too far gone. He had done damage that seemed irreversible.

A single tear rolled down your face. 

It was never meant to go this far. 

“Let me go,” you begged. Din didn’t realize his grasp on you was getting tighter as the seconds went by. “I don’t want to,” he whispered, closer to a mumble.

With reluctance, he let go of your arm. 

“What about the villa?” he called after you as you were about to exit the room. You stopped cold in your tracts. “Don’t bring up the villa-” you scolded him, turning around. The once-thought dream of living lavishly with Din, as a retired pair on a fancy planet scorned your broken heart. “You're really just going to leave? After everything?” he asked.

“You were my everything.” you bitterly cried out. Grogu squirmed in your arms. You sat him down on the bed.

Those words punched through Din like a thousand knives. “I didn’t mean-”

“Then what did you mean?” you ask, approaching Din. “I heard your conversation loud and clear, Din. I understand your intentions.”

“Y/N I had no clue,” he tried to defend himself. “Liar!” you screamed. Din was taken aback by your anger and took a few steps back. “I have spent the last many years of my life following you around blindly. We lived together, slept in the same bed, shared meals, shared laughs, and now share a child! I held you during cold nights! I saw your face, we’ve seen each other nude more times than I can count, you cared for me when I got hurt on that one mission to Tatooine. You cared for me while my leg was broken and I was helpless. We were everything without a title, Din! There is no way you never saw or felt anything. I simply don’t believe it. I can’t believe I thought I could see the true heart of a cold, selfish Mandalorian.”

Din was almost at a loss for words. He stood for a moment, finding words to say as he watched you realize every single word you had just spewed out at him. Your hand began to shake as you sat down, covering your mouth and staring at the carpet with wide eyes.

“Do you think I chose this? This is how I was raised, Y/N!” he argues. Your gaze moved from the carpet and back to Din. “I cannot take a spouse unless they are a Mandalorian, you know this,” Din begged, grasping for straws. He wanted you more badly than anything else in the world, but the creed that was so deeply indoctrinated in him was fighting the feelings.

“Blinded by your creed.” you spat out. Din seethed. The creed he was in the process of abandoning anyways. 

“Why do you think I’m leaving it?” he blurted out. He didn’t want to admit it, but he said it out loud. Never had he ever admitted before to himself, let alone another person that he was done with his origins. The religion he was raised in, the culture that had brought him in and saved his life was now being thrown out… but for what? The convincing Bo-Katan did and saving him from this cult-like creed saved his life, truly deep down. Even if the efforts were small, they awoke something in Din. But was he really ready to shun his culture completely? Din never really came to terms with it, I guess, until now. 

“You have hurt me deeply, Din Djarin,” you said with your lip quivering, stating your final words. With that, you took Grogu and went to breakfast. You knew using his full, true name always hit him in a spot where it hurt most.

As you were about to walk down the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway, you heard your name being called clearly from the other side of the hall. You turned around, seeing Din jogging down the hall to you.

“Din! Your helmet,” you cried out. He had left the room without it. As he only trusted you and Grogu to see his natural face, anyone who he didn’t trust could turn him into the leaders of his clan. It touched him that you seemed to care for him on some level to still care about his helmet insecurities.

Then again, the reigns the creed held on him were loosening day by day.

“Wait,” he said, huffing as he approached you. “Please.”

“I want to go eat breakfast,” you said sternly.

Din’s arms loosely fell over your figure, his hands slowly touching your arms as they cradled Grogu.

“Don’t go,” he begged.

You looked up into his glossy eyes. Often you would forget how much taller he was than you. Sighing, you looked away.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

Din’s knees seemed to collapse under him. He gave in to the buckling of his kneecaps and grabbed both of your hands, begging on his knees for you.

“To live all these years blindly, to not see what was truly in front of me will haunt me for the rest of my days. I am lost without you. Like a galaxy without stars, I am incomplete. I hope you can forgive me for my foolish words, I did not know what I was saying. You are everything to me. The mother of my child, my partner in crime, my light in the dark, my moon to guide me at night, my motivation, my companion, my love. Please forgive me. I need you to stay. You are all I have, you are all I need. A life without you is not worth living.”

To end his plea, he kissed your hands and wept.

Your right hand moved from his grasp to cup his cheek. It was wet with tears. “Don’t cry,” you whispered, wiping a tear away. “Din please,” you said, tearing up as you watched him sit and beg for you.

As his were moments before, your knees seemed to fail you and you joined him on the ground. Your hands grasped his hair as you engulfed the sobbing man in a hug. The soothing sounds of you shushing him like a baby filled the empty hallway.

“I won’t leave, I promise,” you whispered. This seemed to only make him cry harder. The realization Din had of how lucky he was and how close he was to losing you terrified him.

You would have never thought that you would be holding a sobbing Mandalorian. This was living proof of how much he loved and adored you. “H-how could you ever forgive me?” he asked, looking up into your gaze.

“I already have, my love.”

And with that, the two of you delved into your first kiss. It was wet and filled with passion, but also had a theme of hesitation from the two of you.

In all honesty, it was Din’s first kiss ever.

He moved his lips against yours, following your lead. The passion that moved between the two of you was something you had never felt with anyone else before. His hands wandered to your waist as he feverishly begged for more, but knew the limits of the setting the two of you were in.

Moments before the inevitable breakaway, your kiss was interrupted with a cool paw on your leg and a “Patu”

You rocked back on your legs to see the tiny green baby looking angrily at the two of you. A small laugh came from you and Din as he picked Grogu up and fixed his robes.

“Go get fixed up,” you said sweetly, kissing Din on the cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“One question?” he asked, just as you were standing up to leave.

“What time are we leaving?”

“12.” you smiled, ruffling his already messy hair.

-

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

@peeta-is-useless @kirsteng42 @salliebley @bubsonnobx @lexloon @untitledarea @qualitypudding @bitchwitch1981 @kittenlittle24​

[azrielslightintheshadows]

I've got you.

Azriel x f!Reader

Request; Right now I'm kinda going mad because of uni and I came up with this idea of the reader that is like studying something to help the inner circle, but she can't find anything (or whatever came up to your mind love) and Az, her mate, try to reassure her with cuddle/kisses and lot of fluff.

Warnings; Mentions of potential death, reader feels useless

Masterlist.

Hope this is what you had in mind love <3

The words on the tenth book you were currently reading seemed like foreign symbols, your brain had turned into a mush and you groaned as you massaged your temples. Nesta’s powers disappeared when she saved Feyre from death and everyone worried that it might have an impact on her health, thus you were searching every book you could find. Rhys and Feyre wanted to help but they were preoccupied by Nyx and everyone else made sure they were safe and handled the matters of the court.  

“Come on, you can finish the book” you whispered to yourself and flinched when a deep chuckle sounded from behind you. 

“You should take a break angel” your mate’s velvety voice filled your ears and you smiled softly. He moved closer and placed those beautiful scarred hands on your shoulders massaging them. 

“I can’t stop now, I haven’t found anything and we don’t know how much time we have if it actually messes with Nesta’s health” you said and your bottom lip trembled. Nesta managed to become one of your dearest friends and just the thought of something happening to her made you want to rip your hair off. The fact that you couldn’t find something to help her broke your heart in million pieces. 

“Calm down angel, we don’t know if she is in trouble for sure, maybe that’s why you can’t find anything” he said softly and pulled your chair back, he marked the page of the book and picked you up. 

“Everything’s going to be alright” he murmured in your hair and sat on the armchair next to the big window of the study. 

“I’ve read ten books and I can’t find anything. I feel so useless right now” you confessed and hid your face in his neck. 

“You’re not useless baby, you are the only one who’s trying to find something about the situation.” He paused for a second “I think that this makes everyone else useless.” 

You shook your head with a smile “don’t say that, you’re all busy” 

“We are but that doesn’t change that you are researching without any help. Give yourself some credit and take some time to relax before you burn your sneaky brain”  he pinched your side and you gasped. 

“Stop” you whined and hugged him harder making him chuckle and kiss the top of your head. Two cups of tea appeared on the coffee table next to you and Azriel hummed, he picked one and pinched your side again to make you look. 

“I’ll return to my book if you keep this up” you feigned an annoyed expression and he smirked.

“No you will do no such thing, this is Azriel time and I’m not sharing” he scolded. 

You took the cup from him and leaned back on his chest, peeking at the view outside and enjoying his warmth. Azriel was staring outside while his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. 

After a while you sighed and looked at him 

“I have to continue…” you trailed off with a sad smile. 

“Let me help you” he smiled and carried you to the table. 

You spent the rest of the day checking every book, even Azriel’s shadows started flipping through books.

“They can read?” You asked.

“I don’t even know anymore, they surprise me every day” he shrugged.

You kept huffing and puffing, moving from one book to another trying to make some sense but nothing. Azriel looked frustrated too and even his shadows slithered back to him looking defeated. Your eyelids started dropping and you blinked, you couldn’t stop now. You picked another book and started reading. 

You felt something cold touching your back and you hissed.

“Shh it’s okay I’ve got you” Azriel whispered, you opened your eyes and realized that he had carried you to bed. He stripped his clothes and lied next to you, pulling you on his chest and letting a sigh. 

“Get some sleep angel, tomorrow we will continue the research together” he murmured and kissed your head. 

The next day you managed to find a book with a similar story, thankfully the fae who gave away his powers survived and you both cheered and walked hand in hand to the dining room to inform everyone. 

Just before you entered the dining room you glanced at Azriel with a lovesick smile 

“What would I do without you”

Hope you enjoyed it!

@hauntedwitch04

[brownskinlemon]

Forever and a Day (d.f.)

pairings: dom/reader

word count: 1.211

summary: Your bestfriend/roomate Dominic finds out about a secret you have been keeping

warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, kissing

authors note: loving the love, send requests if you wanna see something specific. Thanks to @gri1my for this request! <3

do not repurpose or repost as your own for any reason on any platform without credit.

You and Dom had spent the day at the beach, the same beach you always came to together since elementary school. You had come here so much you were almost sure there was sand permanently in your closet, between all the summer days and warm nights. Between bonfires, drunken group nights, tears on each other shoulders through every hard thing, you two had practically grown up on this sand together.

You had packed up for the day, trudging to the street to walk home, with Dominic in tow with his eyes nearly closed from how he had worn himself out surfing. You smiled softly to yourself, amused at how this big man with tattoos and a RBF looked so gentle and sleepy.

You had secretly had a soft spot for him ever since middle school. You cursed the way girls got googly eyes around him, and how he never seemed to notice the way your eyes saw him deeply, deeper than he would ever know. You had grown up and rented a house in your hometown of Naples, each with your own room. You were silently grateful that you were not privy to any of the activities he indulged in with other girls, though he rarely ever did, he had the decency to spare you the details and the noise. You had shoved your feelings down, doing what you knew best, avoiding your feelings and doing your best to get over it, filling the gaps with rare hookups and situationships. It was moments like this however, that brought you back to middle school, completely and utterly a fool for him.

Your keys jangled at your door, as you swung it open, and you both dropped all of your belongings on the ground. As you shuffled about the kitchen, unloading the cooler, you heard Dom scuffle behind you to the livingroom to flop onto the couch. You walked to the door frame of the living room, poking your head in to see the tall man splayed on the couch on his stomach, legs hanging over one of the arms. You padded quietly over to him, poking his forehead.

“Hey, can you get up and go shower? I’m about to cook and I know how you are about eating while feeling dirty.”

He slowly cracked one eye semi-open, peering up at you. He sighed and sat up to face you, head tilting up to you as you stood with your hands on your hips.

“I guess so…” He poked your exposed tummy, making your stomach clench, begrudgingly standing up and scuffing to the bathroom in his room.

You had decided on mac n cheese and salmon, silently moving about the kitchen, your thoughts about Dom keeping you busy. Your thoughts were interrupted by a call from your friend Sonya.

“Hey what’s up?” You put the phone on speaker.

“Did you tell him yet?” She blurted out, forcing you to immediately snatch the phone off the counter and take it off speaker, crooking it in between your shoulder and ear. 

“Can you hush?” You whispered sharply, “You’re acting like I don’t live with him”

“Sorry, sorry. So..?” She trailed off.

“No” You muttered, sighing to yourself. “I just…don’t wanna mess things up. We live together and if it goes..wrong, it would make things unbearably weird and our friendship would be nonexistent.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe,he likes you too?” She countered.

You stood there, silently toying with your bottom lip, and let out a heavy breath. “No, I don’t want to entertain that delusion.”

“Ok but if you keep waiting he’s gonna be entertaining someone else’s p-” She was suddenly cut off by Dominic yelling for you from his room.

“Y/N! Can you help me?”

“Watch it. I’ll talk to you later.” You whispered into the phone.

“Go get your man” She snickered.

“Bye” You smirked, rolling your eyes at her childish teasing.

You quickly made your way down the hall, bracing yourself for either an injury or a bad idea. You were shocked to find him in his bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub with a hairbrush in his hand. 

“Um. What’s up?” You said, trailing off, leaning into the doorway.

��I need you to brush my hair” He deadpanned, eyes boring into yours.

“No way you called me in here to brush your hair.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Please?” He whispered sweetly, making your insides turn at how adorable he looked, Damp curls draping beautifully over his face, brown eyes doll-like. You pushed off the door frame, trailing over to him, taking the brush and standing on his side.

You began sectioning and brushing his hair silently, eyes catching his face in the mirror and he sat with his eyes closed, blissed out and nearly falling asleep at your gentleness.

“What were you and Sonya talking about?” He broke the silence.Your eyes locked onto his as they met through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, failing miserably as your voice began shaking and your eyes avoided his, looking at everything but him. 

“About whatever secret you’re hiding from me” He said candidly.

“How much of that did you hear?” You sighed and muttered, accepting defeat.

“Enough. You’re kind’ve a loud whisperer.” He admitted, pausing for a moment. “Did you mean it?”

“Do you want me to mean it?” You had stopped brushing his hair by now, eyes caught on the tattoo on the side of his neck.

He turned while sitting, head turning to look up at you, eyes dancing between yours.Your breath caught in your chest at the eye contact. He slowly brought himself up to stand over you, eyes not leaving yours. He stepped forward so that your chests were nearly touching and his lips ghosted over yours, hands moving to cup your face.

“Can I?” He said, barely over a whisper.

“Please” You whined.

It took no time for him to respond, gently connecting your lips. He walked you backwards until your hips gently met the sink, lips languidly moving in tune with yours. He gently lifted you onto the counter, your hands lacing into his unruly curls, and his hands grasping at your thighs and the small of your back. 

You whined into the kiss, arching up into his chest as he gently tugged your bottom lip with his teeth. You gently opened your mouth for him, inviting his tongue to dance with yours. After a few moments, you both pulled away as his forehead stayed on yours, chests heaving and lips bright and dark from the kiss.

“How long were you gonna wait hm?” His eyes searched yours.

“Forever and a day probably” You admitted shyly.

“Why?” He chuckled.

“Because I just…I was scared that if I said something that you wouldn’t feel the same, and that it was gonna just fuck everything up.” You answered, eyes flickering between his blown ones. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” You countered back.

“Same thing for me. I tried to push it down, but fuck it fought so hard to come back up. I was losing it” He sighed contently.

“I’m glad” You smiled at him,

He leaned back, helping you hop off the counter. He turned you in his arms, both of you facing the mirror as he began wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his head to your shoulder. 

“This strangely makes sense…us…how we look together.” You whispered

“Mhm.” He smiled, dimples popping out and eyes squinting, as he kissed your cheek. “My hair looks nice too. You did good”

“I’ve been known to be a woman of many talents” You both chuckled, “Speaking of, you have salmon and mac n cheese waiting on you”

His eyes shot open. “I’m fucking starving that sounds heavenly” 

You left his arms, walking out of the bathroom backwards, “Well if you don;t hurry I’ll gladly take your plate…” You teased.

You both ran through the halls like children, giggling and squealing as he caught up to you.

“We should do this again.” He smiled as you were pinned on the kitchen counter.

‘Same time tomorrow.” You beamed at him. 

You both had dinner, settling into what would be your new normal. You hated to admit it, but for once, Sonya was right. 

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Hey! I love your writing. Could I please request a fluff piece when Iris is till a baby and Joel is on dad duty? Idk just something really fluffy where he just enjoys being a dad and also Sarah helping?

Dad Duty

pairing: elementary!joel miller x f!reader

rating: F (no outbreak au, talks of diapers and poop because infants are a mess, elementary!joel being the best dad/husband in the world, talks of being drunk/alcohol consumption)

wc: <1k

a/n: sorry for the delayed wait on this, anon! i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 🫶🏼

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” you asked, standing by the front door in a “going out” outfit for the first time since your daughter had been born six months ago. “I can cancel.”

Joel shook his head sternly as he and Sarah sat on the couch, Iris fast asleep in his arms.

“It’s your best friend’s birthday,” he said. “I won’t hear the end of it from her if she suspects you cancelled all because you don’t think I can handle a six-month old.”

“Of course I think you can handle it,” you said, offering him a sweet smile as you grabbed your purse. “I just feel guilty—“

“Baby,” he sighed, tilting his head at you. “Iris ain’t gonna remember you goin’ out one time when she was six months old.”

“I know, but—“

“No buts,” he said. “Get your fine ass out there, and take a couple shots for me while you’re at it.”

“Besides,” Sarah chimed in, pulling your eyes to hers. “I’m here as backup. Go have fun for once.”

Letting out a deep exhale, you nodded, agreeing to bury your guilt over leaving your daughter behind for the first time. “Fine. But if you need me—“

“Baby,” Joel chuckled. “We got it. Go get hammered.”

Walking over to him, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you more,” he said, tilting your chin so that he could steal a quick peck on your lips, careful not to smudge your lipstick. “Go on now before they start honkin’ and wake baby girl up.”

“Alright,” you said, walking over to the door. “Sarah, don’t let your dad try to cook anything. I’d hate to come back to ashes.”

“Already on it.”

“Sarah!” Joel called from the upstairs nursery, Iris on the changing table in front of him making the biggest and grossest mess he’d ever encountered in his tenure as a father. “We got any more wipes?”

Sarah was already laughing when she walked in, carrying a new pack of wipes in hand before she witnessed the scene in front of her and started to gag.

“I’m never having a kid,” she said, covering her nose with her t-shirt.

“This ain’t the usual,” Joel said, shaking his head as he tried his best to clean up his very wiggly daughter. “Stay still, baby girl. It’s—Jesus, Iris. How’d it get in your hair?”

“I’m not even sure a bath will fix this,” Sarah said, looking disgusted. “I think we have to take her back and get a brand new baby.”

“Your mom would notice,” he said. “Otherwise, ain’t too bad an idea.”

After a thorough cleaning that left Joel scarred, Iris was set down in her activity chair down in the living room, her favorite nonsensical cartoon on while Sarah helped Joel cook some mac and cheese for dinner, her babbles filing the home.

“And to think she thought the house would catch on fire if I tried to cook,” he said, smiling at the thought of you.

“Well, in fairness it has almost happened before,” she said, earning an offended look from her father. “You don’t remember the fork in the microwave incident?”

“Shit,” he cursed, shaking his head. “You’re right. But in my defense, someone left it in my takeout box.”

“Yeah, you.” Joel chuckled, amused by her wit. “But to pad your stats, we can lie and say you made dinner tonight.”

“No, she’d expect me to start cookin’ then,” he said. “I may have pulled a miracle tonight, but my battin’ average ain’t great. Do you want to take the chance of house burnin’ down?”

“Good point.”

“Exactly. You’re takin’ the credit for this work of art.” Joel pointed at the pot of artificial cheese goodness. “How in the world am I hungry after cleaning up Iris’s shi—“

“Dad,” she winced. “I just got the image out of my mind.”

“If I gotta remember it, you do too, baby girl.”

It was midnight by the time you stumbled in, waving your best friend and her designated driver-slash-husband goodbye as you cracked the front door open before heading inside. To your surprise, Joel was still awake and rocking Iris to sleep in his arms, though judging by the heavy blink of his eyelids, he was barely hanging on.

“Hey baby,” he said with a smile as you stumbled your way over to the couch as quietly and gracefully as you could to sit down beside him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “How was it?”

“I’m drunk,” you confessed, your voice raspy from singing along to the club’s music. “And hungry.”

“Well, lucky for you, Sarah made dinner,” he said, standing up with Iris and setting her down in her rocker before holding his hand out for you. “Come on, you drunkard.”

“How were the girls?” you asked, clasping your hand in his as he guided you to the kitchen table to have a seat while he warmed up tonight’s leftovers.

“A piece of cake,” he said, shooting you a smile from over his shoulder. “Iris had one very messy diaper incident, but besides that, she was an angel. Just like her mom.”

“Hey, I won’t be having any messy diaper incidents for another fifty years or so,” you joked, earning another grin. “You gonna love me when I’m wearing a diaper?”

“Baby, I’m older than you,” he reminded. “If you’re wearin’ a diaper, so am I.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” you mused with a wide, drunken grin. “You can save your payback for then, have Iris see how it feels.”

“I like the way you think, baby,” he chuckled. “But I love her too much to make her go through what I went through earlier. I think I’m gonna need therapy after that.”

You stood up, finding your way over to him to wrap your arms around his waist and hug his back, too in love with him not to touch him.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t know how much I needed it,” you said, humming as Joel’s hand lowered from the pot on the stove to run over your forearm wrapped around his middle. “How about next weekend I watch the girls so you can have a night out?”

“Maybe one of these days we’ll both get to go out,” he chuckled. “Until then, I’m good stayin’ at home with my girls.”

[hannieslittlerockstar]

Just As You Are

Word Count: 3.9K

Genre: LeeKnow x reader, established relationship, fluff, reader has a lot of insecurities and self-hate towards her appearance and weight

Summary: All you want is to feel enough in your own skin and all LeeKnow wants is for you to believe that you are enough just as you are.

(Gif is not mine. All credit goes to rightful owner)

Author Note: Here is the full little drabble! Thxs for waiting and hope you enjoy :) Wrote this for my best friend. Hope you know you all are enough just as you are!

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Squinting your eyes open, the same three dreadful numbers blink up at you from the scale. Three stupid numbers that seemed to always find a way to mock you for all your hard efforts. 

You step off the scale, releasing an annoyed huff. The numbers couldn’t be right. You’d skipped so many lunches and dinners, and ate so many small bowls of salad that there was no way your weight hadn’t gone down. Stepping onto the scale again, you concentrate all your energy into making yourself lighter. You knew it was ridiculous and that no amount of concentration could take off the extra pounds (although you wish it could), but it felt like you were doing something. And you couldn’t stand the idea of doing nothing. 

You had to maintain the way you looked. You had to weigh those three exact numbers or lower. Or else…you wouldn’t be enough. You couldn’t be enough.

A soft knock startles you from your thoughts.

“자기야 (baby)?” a familiar, warm voice softly calls.

Your arms instinctively wrap around yourself, embarrassed. “Yeah?” you look at the wooden door, eyes full of guilt. You knew that tone. You made him worry again. 

“Is everything okay?” Minho rests his head against the door, his hand hovering over the door knob. He closes his eyes tightly shut before forcing his hand to his side.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you say as you quickly start to redress, eyes searching the mess of scattered clothes for your pants. 

“Can I come in?” Minho’s voice is barely above a whisper. 

“What?” you ask as you pull your shirt over your head.

“Can you please let me in?” Minho asks a little louder, a little more desperate. 

Giving yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, you swallow back the frustration beginning to crawl its way up from inside your chest. “Um, yeah. Give me one second.”

Opening the cupboard under the sink, you put the scale back in its place and make sure it looks untouched. Standing up, you catch your reflection in the mirror again. Your shirt seems tighter. Your pants lack that baggy fit you love so much. It shows too much of your curves, too much of your body, and way too much of what’s underneath. Closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath. You can’t be doing this right now. Especially not today. You and Minho had planned this date night for weeks, you can't, no you wouldn’t ruin it for him.  

Forcing a smile and ignoring the insecure voice ringing inside your head, you gently crack the door open to find Minho looking at you expectantly. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks again, gently pushing the door open wider. You notice how Minho subtly tries to put as much of his weight onto the door to keep it propped open. You can tell how hard he’s trying to give you your space, but you also know Minho. The way he worries and cares has always been evident in his actions. “You were in the bathroom for a while…are you feeling okay?” 

You feel a familiar warmth prick at your eyes but you quickly blink them away as you force your emotions at bay. “Yeah, I'm good. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

Minho’s small smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he nods his head. Reaching out his hand, he intertwines his fingers with yours as he gently guides you out of the bathroom. “Come on,” he tilts his head. “Let’s go back to the living room.”

You take a few steps before stopping in your tracks. Sensing the pull, Minho turns around. “What’s–?”

“Can I borrow one of your hoodies?” you meekly ask, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“O-of course,” Minho nods. Hesitantly, he lets go of your hand. “I’ll go grab it.”

“I’ll wait for you on the coach,” you reassure him as your lips tug into a small smile. “Thanks Min.”

Minho feels a sharp pang in his chest. He’s never seen your smile laced with so much brokenness. He knows something is wrong but he can’t piece together why and it’s driving him insane. Gently cupping your cheeks, Minho plants a quick peck on your forehead before he rushes into his room and messily digs through his drawer to find your favorite black hoodie. Quickly hurrying back to the coach, he finds you sitting cross-legged. You’re playing with the hem of your pants, a far off look in your eyes. He gently pats your head to let you know he’s returned. “Here,” he softly says before sitting cross-legged beside you. 

“Thanks,” you mutter as you immediately pull it over your head. 

The both of you sit in silence, but rather than worrying about what Minho might be thinking, you find your eyes drifting back to your clothes. It didn’t matter how many layers you wore, it was as if your body always found a way to remind you of all the unnecessary weight you’d gained. You can see it in the way your pants stretch too thinly across your legs, the way it feels too tight around your torso and the way– . Clearing his throat, Minho draws your attention away from your spiraling thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes widen. You had disappeared inside your head again. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.”

“You seem to be thinking a lot today,” Minho teases but when you don’t react he quickly changes the topic. “I made some dinner. Some bulgogi and rice…your favorite. Are you hungry?”

You feel your mouth salivating but you quickly shake your head. “No, I’m good…thank y–.” Before you can even finish your sentence, your stomach emits a loud growl. Your face turns a darker shade of red as you pull the hood of the hoodie over your eyes and sink into the crevice of the coach. 

Minho lets out an amused chuckle. Scooting closer, he grabs your hands and pulls you out from the cushions. Once you are properly seated upright again, he tries to meet your wandering eyes. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that a yes?” A playful smile tugs at Minho’s lips.

You shake your head. “I’m not hungry.”

“But–.”

 “I’m not hungry. I’m fine,” you firmly counter. 

The smile falls from Minho’s face. Noticing your tone had come out harsher than you had intended, you quickly add. “I’m sorry Min. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I know what it sounded like, but I’m not hungry. I’m okay. Really, I’m okay.”

 Minho doesn’t believe your words for a second. A frustrated sigh escapes his lips as he roughly threads his fingers through his hair. “If you’re okay, then.” Minho stops, trying to find the right words. 

Your eyes narrow. “Then what?” 

“Then…why have you been skipping out on meals and forcing yourself not to eat?”

Your eyes widen as you shamefully look away from Minho. “You knew?” the words come out like a whisper. 

Minho’s fingers gently guide your face back towards him. Removing the hood from your head, he starts to fix and tuck your hair behind your ears before meeting your eyes. “I meant to approach you about it earlier but I was afraid that you would shut me out.” Grabbing your hands, his thumb gently rubs small circles against the back of your hand before he gives them a tight squeeze. “But seeing you like this, I should have talked to you sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Min, you don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault. I’m the one doing this to myself.”

“And it pains me to see you like this. Y/N, you can talk to me. What’s wrong?” He looks back and forth between your eyes. “I’m here to help. I want to help, but,” his voice becomes quieter, failing to conceal the brokenness and vulnerability laced within his words. “I can’t do that if you won’t let me in.”

Tears begin to blur your vision but you harshly rub your eyes with your sleeves before they have the chance to fall. Feeling your lungs begin to contract, you force yourself to swallow the sob threatening to crawl up your throat.

 “I don’t know what’s going on but I want you to know that you are enough just as you are.” You bite down hard on your quivering lip as you try with every fiber in your being to believe Minho’s words. “And I want you to remember that…I love you.”

Three words. All it takes is those three magic words for the dam to break. The emotions you had been pushing back for the past several weeks start slipping down your face as your body starts to shake. Taken aback, Minho quickly pulls you into his chest, his arms tightly winding around your torso. 

“I’m here, I’m here. It’s okay,” he whispers into your ear as his other hand caresses the back of your head. 

“I hate myself,” you sob into Minho’s shoulder. 

Three words. All it takes is those three words to rip Minho’s heart into pieces. 

“What? Why?” his eyebrows furrow as he slightly pulls back, his hands never leaving the security of your waist.

“I-I mean, look at me Minho!”

Minho’s gaze doesn’t waver from your eyes as he firmly responds, “I am.”

You feel your breath hitch as you stare back at Minho wide-eyed. The way he holds your gaze with such confidence and certainty makes it feel like Minho actually does see something in you. Something you desperately wished you could see for yourself. But whatever he saw couldn’t be true. The scale never lies. Another whimper escapes your lips as the tears start spilling down your cheeks again.

“But Minho, I-I’m so ugly. I’m fat and my clothes don’t fit. H-how can you even love me right now?” you hiccup, upset about how stupid this all sounds out loud compared to how suffocating it feels inside your head. You feel so exposed right now, you hate it. 

Minho’s eyes quickly search yours in shock. The worry contoured into his features is enough to tell you that he’s desperately trying to figure out where the hell these absurd thoughts even came from. Minho gently wipes your tears away with his thumbs as his hands cup your cheeks. “How could I not love you?” he answers, gazing into your teary eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking down into your lap. “I sound pathetic,” you let out another shaky sniffle.  

He gently shakes his head. “You’re not pathetic. I’ve never thought that. You are so much more than your low moments, Y/N. In fact,” he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I want you to share your sufferings with me. I want to help carry your burdens.”

You roughly wipe away the new wave of tears gliding down your cheeks. 

“So when you say things like that, it hurts. It hurts me to find out that you think I can’t love you because of the way you look. Because to me, you are so much more than the physical. You’re my Y/N and you’ve always been enough for me, just as you are.” 

Just as you are. Since the first day you met, it felt like Minho was trying to tell you just that. It started with a spontaneous get together with a mutual friend group. You’d heard bits and pieces about Minho from your friends but didn’t think much else at the time. Turns out he was even more handsome than they described and carried a mysterious, tsundere aura that you were a sucker for. But Minho was Minho and you were you. There was no way you fit his type. So, to save yourself from any future heartbreak and unrequited love, you shut down any hope or possibility of your friendship going further. 

But life never goes as planned. As the two of you got to know each other better, you realized that Minho wasn’t just any guy. He didn’t care for superficial things. Instead, he sought out authenticity. Minho was someone who made friendships carefully and treasured those he cared about. If Minho decided to keep you in his life, the way he loved you wasn’t loud. He cared through the small things that people tended to overlook or take for granted. So, after months of denying your feelings because you didn’t feel enough for Minho and finally allowing yourself to be loved, you realized all the little ways Minho was silently telling you he loved you too.

It slowly began with your late, college study nights at the library. After Minho helped you through a semester of Biology, it became your thing to study together at the library and wait for each other to finish your assignments. When it was time to go home, Minho would always lie that your apartment was on the way to his, just to make sure you would make it home safely. It wasn’t until the first time you went to his apartment for a group dinner that you found out that you lived in opposite directions. After that, Minho came up with a million excuses just so he could keep walking you home. 

It was in the way he would bend down to tie your shoes while you waited for the bus and the way he would slightly guide your nodding head to his shoulder whenever you would fall asleep on public transportation. The way his eyes would constantly meet yours in the middle of conversations, how he would always listen and give you his undivided attention when you’d share something that was bothering you because he knew how hard it was for you to open up. 

It was all the times Minho lovingly reminded you to go at your own pace and to not compare your journey with others whenever you’d get discouraged. He expressed it in the times he would gently guide you towards the inner part of the sidewalk while he walked by the road as you enthusiastically talked about your last trip to Japan, completely oblivious to his small, thoughtful actions. It was in the way he always took care of you by making his remedy soup whenever you were sick or the way he’d give you his hoodie after those cold, tipsy bar nights, lying that he wasn’t cold when his friends could see right through him. Seungmin and Chan never missing the opportunity to make small teasing remarks that would leave his face beet red. So many little ways that Minho had chosen to love you, and in all those life moments, he’d proven countless times that he could love you despite your flaws. So, why did you still feel so unlovable?

Why was it that every time you looked at yourself in the mirror, all you could see was a reflection of disappointment in your tired eyes? Why did you still feel so much disgust, hatred and hurt every time you poked your stomach? You tear your eyes away from Minho as you start to play with the rings on your fingers. “It’s just that sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough. I feel like you deserve better.” 

Minho’s eyebrows furrow even deeper. “Says who?” 

“What?” you softly mutter. 

“Who says that you are not enough? What makes you think I deserve better?” Minho asks, a hint of anger and hurt laced within his tone. 

“The scale Minho! Numbers don’t lie! I’ve gained weight. I don’t look like I used to,” you raise your voice, exasperated. 

“Is that why you took so long in the bathroom?” Minho’s voice softens, his tone holding a care and worry that makes you feel even more guilty. 

“I-I.”

“Y/N,” Minho gently grabs your hands, and holds them in his lap. “We all get old. Our bodies change and we don’t always look like we used to. And that’s okay. True love loves past the superficial. If I only loved you for your looks, this relationship wouldn’t last long. But I don’t. I love you for the beautiful person you are. You make me a better person, you love me in a way that no one ever can. So please, don’t tell me what you think I deserve. I want to love you. I’m choosing to love you because I wouldn’t want to walk this journey of life with anyone but you.” 

You muster a small smile. “I know that you genuinely love me Minho and I hate myself for doubting you ever could. But sometimes when I see myself in the mirror, it’s hard for me to fathom that you could love me. I don’t want me, so how could you want me?” You feel your vision blurring as your eyes fill with tears again. “I want to be good enough for you. I want to be more confident in my own skin. I want to be someone worthy of being loved but I let my insecurities get the best of me and sometimes even just getting up or putting on my clothes is a challenge in itself. I’m sorry you have to see me in such a pathetic state and I’m sorry if it makes you love me any less. I’m trying Min, I’m really trying to see the good, but it’s so hard right now. I’m sorry I let those stupid numbers on the scale dictate my life, but I’m trying so hard to weigh less and it seems like nothing I do fixes that. Fixes me.”

Minho gazes at you intently as he takes in every hurt and vulnerable word you have to say. 

“I’m getting tired of it Minho,” you say as your shoulders start to shake again. “I’m getting tired of not feeling enough,” you break down. 

Minho takes that as your cue that you’ve finished. “Y/N,” he softly calls in-between your loud sobs. You look up at him with your runny nose and tear stained cheeks. You feel so vulnerable, so ugly but Minho just looks at you as if he wants nothing more than to protect you and care for you. The only thing reflecting in his eyes is a soft loving gaze that leaves you so confused. 

“Come here,” he motions towards his lap as he tries to pull you closer to him. 

You shake your head. “No, no, Min, I can’t.” You push away his arms. “I’m too heavy right now. I’m too fat.”

“Y/N, you’re not heavy. You’re not fat. I don’t care about those things. I-,” Minho’s voice cracks. “I just want to hold you.”

Your heart aches as you internally fight with yourself. You want to be held by Minho so badly but you can’t have him hold you. You’re too heavy for that. Minho spreads his legs and pats the space in between. “If you won’t let me hold you then can you at least sit right here so I can hug you properly?”

You look back and forth between the spot on the couch and Minho’s open arms, contemplating the idea. You finally give in and scoot in between his legs, wrapping your legs around his torso. As soon as you’re within his reach, Minho immediately engulfs you into his arms and gently rocks you back and forth. 

He nuzzles his head against your hair and just holds you. “It’s okay,” he comforts you as you let out another sob. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Y/N,” Minho says as he holds back his own tears. 

Minho continues to rock you in silence until your sobs die down into soft sniffles and your eyes dry into a puffy, light hue of red. Your head is nestled onto his shoulder as you look out the window by the couch. There’s a light rain pitter-pattering against the window as a flash of lightning lights up the sky. Minho’s hold hasn’t loosened since you entered his warm embrace and that brings you comfort. It was almost as if he was saying that he would be there to help put you back together after you allowed yourself to fall apart. 

Once Minho can feel your heart rate quiet down into a gentle rhythm, he quietly asks, “Do you feel a little better?”

You nod against his shoulder, refusing to leave the comfort of his hold.

Minho leans back and gently pushes you off his shoulder. Looking in between your eyes, a soft smile spreads across his lips. “Oh, Y/N,” he coos as he leans over and hands you a few tissues. You wipe your eyes and blow your nose and throw it into the trash bin by the couch. Minho cups your cheeks and just admires you. Resting his forehead against yours, the two of you sit there in silence before Minho whispers against your lips. “Y/N. You don’t have to prove or be anything for me. I love you exactly as you are.”

Feeling the tears begin to prick at your eyes again, you look up into his loving gaze and nod. 

“I don’t think you’re overweight but if you’d like to lose a few pounds within your bmi range, I’m happy to help you in any way I can. As long as we are doing it the healthy way. Starving yourself isn’t going to help you lose weight. In the long run, it just hurts your body. So, let’s find a way to take care of your body and love it in the right way.”

“It’s so hard though,” you sniffle.

“I know it is…but we’ll take it one step at a time. And I’ll be with you the whole way,” Minho smiles. “So let’s at least try.”

Slowly, you nod your head against his forehead. 

“I’m sure Changbin knows lots of great exercises we can do too,” Minho teases and for the first time in a while you erupt into a genuine laugh.

“I’m sure he does,” you smile. 

“I know this wasn’t easy to share but thank you for letting me be here with you and for trusting me. Being vulnerable isn't easy and what you did was very brave. Just know though, that I’ll always be here for you and that you are enough for me. But you should also remember that you are enough for you just as you are .”

“Thank you,” you smile as Minho plants a lingering kiss onto your forehead. 

As you both separate, your stomach lets out another loud growl. You instantly grab your stomach and flash Minho a sheepish smile. Minho just smiles cheekily back at you.

“Come on,” he tilts his head as he stands up. Reaching out his hand towards you, he smiles, “Let’s get you some food.”

You take his hand and Minho lifts you off the couch with ease as he guides you back into his arms. Without letting you go, Minho penguin walks the both of you towards the kitchen.

“Min,” you laugh into his chest. “This is the most inconvenient way to get to the kitchen.”

“True,” Minho nods. “If only there was an easier way.” 

Before you can even piece together his thoughts, Minho lifts you off the ground. “Minho,” you squeak as you instinctively wrap your legs around his torso, your arms resting loosely around his neck. Minho looks up at you with a mischievous grin. Your lips protrude into a slight frown. “I told you I’m way too heavy right now to be picked up.”

“You feel pretty light to me,” he smiles and to emphasize his point he spins you around with him. 

“You’re going to drop me!” you squeal. 

“Never,” Minho says as he looks up at you, stealing another kiss.

“I love you Minho,” you smile as your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Thank you for choosing to love me, just as I am.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Find Another Moment

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: Through a trip to find his mom, a series of explosions and executions, and an impromptu dinner date, you realize that you need Jim Street by your side all the time. Almost as much as he needs you.

Warnings: spoilers for 2x22 "Kangaroo" and Cinque story line from s2, angst to fluff, Karen Street being a bad mom, lots of comfort and love!

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: I shocked myself by making a rewrite that isn't chock-full of verbatim lines from the show! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

There are very few people you rush to answer the phone for. When Jim Street calls hours after your shift ends, you nearly trip over your feet to get to the phone and talk to him.

“Street, hey,” you greet when the line connects. 

“Hey, sorry for the late call,” he says. “But I, uh, I wanted to ask if maybe you could get another ride to work tomorrow? I know it’s late notice.”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

Street sighs, and your worry and concern for him grows.

“You can talk to me, Street. You know that. But you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to,” he answers. “It’s my mom. That thing with the credit card information worked out and I got an address. Now that I know where she is, I can do something. I’m going to go check it in the morning before I head to HQ.”

“No problem. Family comes first. If you want me to come along though, just wait in the car, I can. You shouldn’t have to do this at all, but it’s really messed up that you’re having to do it alone, Jim.”

You don’t often call him by his first name, so you hope he doesn’t take it as trying to force your way into his personal life. He gets enough grief from Hondo about his mom, and the last thing you want to do is make him think you want to interfere and give your opinion, too.

“Your decision,” you add. “But I can definitely call in a favor from someone else. And my car should be back from the shop this week, so I’ll finally stop asking you to chauffeur me.”

“I don’t mind. Just… with my mom, I don’t want to make anything awkward between us if she is there.”

“Street, there’s nothing that could happen that would change how I think of you or our relationship,” you assure him. “I understand if you want to go alone, though.”

“I don’t,” Street says softly. “I really don’t.”

“Then pick me up before you go. What harm can some moral support do?”

“Thank you.”

“What friends are for.”

“No, really. I don’t think you realize just how much you’re doing for me. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Street.”

Street sits back and sighs. You said nothing could change your relationship, but after moments like this, he wants to be the one to change it. Being friends and teammates is great, but you could be more. And, for once in his life, Street wants to do something for himself, to be happy with you without any care for what others think. If his mother doesn't scare you away, by some miracle or chance of fate, Street will tell you that he has feelings for you. Then, you get to take it from there because Street has been manipulated too many times in his life to find comfort in causing others to rush into big decisions. Especially when his heart and happiness are on the line, too.

The following morning, you wait on the curb of your usual parking spot for Street. He seems nervous as he pulls in, and you hope that the moral support you came to provide eases him. You’ve heard the horror stories about his mom but haven’t talked to her extensively like some of your other teammates. If she is here, you’ll give Street room to do his thing and then navigate the rest as he instructs. Street is special to you, and you refuse to lose him by overstepping or pushing his boundaries. He’s your friend, and you stay there because if you lose Street, you lose everything that matters.

“This is it?” you ask.

Street leans over the steering wheel to look at the old, sinking apartment complex. People wander aimlessly around the building, and clothes and furniture hang from windows. A distinct sense of doom and gloom escapes through all the cracks and crevices, showing the building's age and lack of care.

“Come in with me?” Street requests. “Please?”

You nod as you open the door. As you walk toward Street, you have to step over broken beer bottles, cigarette butts, and empty nos canisters. At his side, you smile, trying to remind Street that you’re with him, no matter what.

Inside, you follow Street up a staircase lined with trash. The hallway at the top is dark and dirty, and the cheap laminate floor is peeling from the corners. No one deserves to live like this, you think as you notice someone sitting at the end of the hall, rocking back and forth.

Street slows beside an open door, and you stop as he pushes it open further. Music plays inside, and Street looks over his shoulder at you and nods once.

“Good luck,” you whisper. “I’m right here.”

You watch Street step inside, then turn slightly to see inside the apartment. It’s trashed and nearly unlivable, but Karen Street is sitting on the floor and laughing at an old cartoon. Your eyes move to Street as he tries to get her attention. A sound down the hall draws your attention momentarily, but you turn back quickly when Street asks who someone is.

“Bryce,” the unseen man answers.

“So, you leave the apartment and disappear for weeks without a word and starting using again ‘cause you chose this guy?” Street asks.

“Name ain’t ‘this guy,’ it’s Bryce,” Bryce says. “And you need to go.”

You can see Street, but not Bryce from your position in the hallway. When Street stands quickly, you step inside and watch as he shoves the man against the fridge.

“Okay,” Bryce pants.

“Hey, stop it,” Karen calls as she stands. “Stop it, stop it! Eddie, baby, please.”

While Bryce asks who Eddie is, you debate whether you should walk back into the hallway or try to help Street. When Karen hugs Street while talking to his father, you wait. You step toward him as he shoves his mom back.

“Oh, Jimmy,” Karen says when she realizes it's Street and not her husband. She pulls her robe closed and murmurs, “I’m gonna… straighten things up.”

She moves toward the kitchen, and you follow her, nodding at Street. You gently place your arm before Karen and smile when she turns toward you.

“Hey, Mrs. Street,” you greet softly. “I can straighten up for you, but why don’t we go somewhere else for now?”

“What’s she on?” Jim asks behind you.

“We took a mix,” Bryce answers. “A mix of a lot of things.”

“Maybe we could go get breakfast,” you suggest. “Wouldn’t you like some time with Jim?”

Karen nods and turns toward Street. “I can make waffles,” she offers. “I might have to go to the store though.”

“I don’t want waffles, Ma,” Street answers.

Street grabs a blanket from the table and drapes it over his mom’s shoulders. “I’m taking her home,” he says as he places his hand on her back. “Bryce.”

You follow Jim and Karen for a few steps, then stop. “Bryce,” you call. “If I find out that the mix of a lot of things was your creation, I’ll be back.”

“It wasn’t!” he yells after you.

You wave your hand over your shoulder as you exit, leaving the door open behind you. When you catch up with Street, he’s almost back to his car.

“You take her home, I can call someone,” you offer.

“I’ll drop you off. Tell Hondo I’ll be late?” he replies.

“Sure.” Street closes the car door, and you catch his wrist as you ask, “Are you okay?”

He shrugs, and you nod in understanding. You squeeze his hand gently, then release him to get in the car. Street means more to you than he’ll ever know, and you’ll do everything you can, even covering for him to Hondo, to be here for him.

“Street, it’s me,” you say to the voicemail. “Hondo knows you’re running late, but I didn’t tell him anything specific. I’m going to the courthouse with Cortez. Um… if you need anything, let me know.”

After you hang up, you exit the car and meet Jessica on the sidewalk. She knows who you called, you’re sure of it, but you’re hoping that she won’t try to meddle or give you advice. The walk into the courthouse is a comfortable silence, which you’re grateful for. As you sit, Jessica speaks to the reporter on her other side, but you keep your eyes on the defendants before you. When they stand suddenly and begin chanting, you roll your eyes. They’ve been saying the same thing since they were arrested.

“The time to be good to each other has passed,” they add. “The system will be burned to ashes, starting with this courthouse.”

You look at Jessica as you lean forward.

“That’s new,” she says.

Outside the courthouse, people begin yelling, and you don’t hesitate to stand and walk toward the door. Jessica follows behind you, and when you enter the hallway to see Cinque on the screen, you stop in your tracks.

“Cinque,” Jessica says. “He must have hacked the feed.”

She raises her phone to film the live video, but you listen to Cinque rather than focus on who is with him or where he is. Hondo and the rest of your team will be watching back at HQ, but if you can help, you want to be prepared.

“So,” Cinque continues, “this time we don’t want money and we don’t want to bargain. We’re going to burn the system down and rebuild on its ashes.”

Cinque raises a phone and presses the screen. Several cars outside the courthouse explode, and you duck down as the people around you scream. Jessica pulls her gun and instructs people to move farther into the courthouse. You stay beside her and fight every instinct to run out and help the people closest to the explosion.

“Cortez, this isn’t over,” you say over the chaos behind you.

Jessica holsters her gun and pulls her phone out of her pocket. “He’s going to sentence a politician on live television every hour,” she tells you. “He’s just getting started.”

“That was the 4th Street bridge, but he’ll move. You need my team.”

Your phone rings before Jessica can respond. Street’s name on the screen is the best thing you’ve seen all day, you think as you answer the call.

“Street,” you greet when the call connects.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Cortez is good, too. No casualties here. How are things there?”

“Hectic. When are you coming back?”

“When am I coming back?” you repeat, looking at Jessica. She shrugs, it’s your decision. “I’m not. I’m going to stay with Cortez and keep an eye on everything here.”

“Be careful,” Street implores. “Keep me updated.”

“You, too.”

“Councilman Strub’s body, hanging from the 4th Street bridge, it seems familiar.”

“Figure it out, Street, we both know you can.”

“I have to tell Hondo all is good there.”

“I’ll see you later, Street. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Less than an hour later, you’re still at the courthouse when Cinque executes another politician. You don’t watch this time, but you text Street to be careful immediately after the broadcast ends.

Back at HQ, Hicks tells Street, “Get the rest of your team and go grab Cinque!”

“The rest of my team isn’t here,” Street mumbles as he and Deacon exit the situation room.

“I know you’re worried about her,” Deacon says, “but she’s okay. If we want to get her back here safely, we have to stay focused, Street.”

Deacon joins Luca as Street calls for Chris and Tan to visit the location of Cinque’s last IP address. As he works, Street realizes that Deacon is right and wrong at the same time. He doesn’t just want you back to be part of the team, Jim Street wants you by his side all the time. Having you at his side, as a teammate, when things are bad, is great, but that’s not all he wants. He needs more.

 After successfully saving Councilman Washington, 20 Squad is surprised to see Jessica back at HQ. Street, however, only looks for you.

“She’s still at the courthouse, waiting for things to settle there,” she tells Street. “Deputies didn’t mind the help.”

Street nods and watches Jessica walk to her office with Hondo. He’s glad you’re okay and safe, but he’d prefer to see you in person. You stepped up this morning to help him with his mom, and now, Street isn’t sure when he’ll see you again.

“We need to find Cinque,” he tells Luca.

“For personal reasons or the public’s safety?” Luca asks knowingly.

“Why not both?”

Your phone rings during a conversation with a bailiff. Jessica’s name on the caller ID makes you answer it before you even excuse yourself.

“Cortez, hey,” you greet. “Everything okay?”

“It will be. Cinque is in custody, and Deacon and Hondo are reviewing all the intel we have to find the last Emancipator. I need you to join me at City Hall, if everything is under control at the courthouse?”

“As under control as it can be. They’re understandably freaked about the explosions and the live broadcasts, but they can spare me. I’ll be there in twenty.  Do you think we’ll actually find anything or have to wait for another lead?” you ask as you exit the courthouse.

“I wish I had an answer for you.”

Before you leave for City Hall, you text Street to let him know where you’re going. You hesitate over the ‘Send’ button, then add, I’ll see you soon. It’s a promise.

“Find anything?” Street asks as he enters the situation room.

“There’s a live press conference at City Hall, we think it’s the next Emancipator target,” Hondo answers. “Cinque’s been planning all of this for a while. Was there anything going on at City Hall in the last year?”

“Let me see,” Deacon murmurs. After a quick search, he pulls up a record and photos. “They installed new security cameras four months ago, and the installation crew had to scan IDs to gain access to the building. And that work crew sure looks like our Emancipators on trial.”

“They used the installation job to plant explosives inside City Hall,” Hondo realizes.

Street’s phone buzzes, and he continues listening to Hondo as he reads your message and rereads it.

“Cinque likes an audience. Now he’s got one on live TV,” Hondo adds.

“Tell Cortez,” Deacon urges.

“She’s not the only one there,” Street says, looking up from his phone. “They’re both in a death trap.”

“Call her,” Hondo commands as he raises his phone to his ear. “We need everyone out without raising flags.”

Standing in the crowd at City Hall, you watch as Cortez turns to the side and answers her phone. Your phone begins buzzing immediately after, and you step back to answer the call from Street.

“The Emancipators are planning to blow up City Hall,” Street says, skipping his usual greeting. “Hondo wants everyone out.”

“Got it,” you answer.

“No, hey, listen to me. You get out of there.”

“Street, I will.”

“Don’t wait, just get out of there and come back here. Okay?”

“I’ll be back soon, Street. I promised, didn’t I?”

Now, you just have to keep that promise.

Back at HQ, Hondo preps 20 Squad, and they roll out in Black Betty less than five minutes later. In his seat, Street forces himself to pay attention to Hondo. If he doesn’t focus on his job, his mind will run rampant and make him think of everything that could happen to you.

When people begin exiting City Hall, the final Emancipator detonates one of the explosives hidden inside. You’ve strayed from Hicks and Cortez to make sure everyone gets out safely, and when the building shakes and the first explosion echoes through the halls, you cover your head.

“Go, get out of here!” you yell to a man in the same hall.

The explosion sounded like it was on the two-side of the building. Though you know the sound may have been distributed oddly and you could be wrong, you begin moving that way. Street told you to leave, but you’re this close; you can’t sit back and do nothing.

“Go,” you call as you run past civilians exiting doors off the hallway.

You near the two-side as the explosions continue, ranging in speed and location. Without communications with your team, you have no idea if the bomber is even in the building. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“22-David, Chris got the bomber,” Luca alerts.

“30-David to D-Team. Status,” Deacon requests.

“26-David, clear,” Street answers.

“25-David, clear,” Tan adds.

“20-David, all clear,” Hondo reports after a moment. “And I’ve got Cortez.”

“Just Cortez?” Street asks.

Street doesn’t wait for an answer before he rips his phone from his pocket and calls you. You don't answer, and Street runs toward one of the only standing entrances. As he enters the falling building, he yells your name, screams through the dust, ignores the burning in his eyes and throat, and climbs over the rubble.

“Talk to me!” he yells, feeling ready to collapse. Leaning against a pile of debris, Street yells your name once more.

Each explosion disorients you more. Between the dust, the noise, and how the closer explosions throw off your balance, you lose sight of the exterior wall and your escape. Instead, you focus on moving forward and keeping your hope of finding any door.

Someone yells in the distance, but you can’t decipher where they are. Everything is muffled, and your steps are growing slow and heavy in your oncoming lethargy.

“Street,” you whisper, reaching for your phone before remembering you dropped it while running past a falling pillar.

Your eyes flutter closed as you lean against a wall. Investigators will be inside soon, so you rest amongst the wreckage and consider simply waiting for them. Until someone yells your name, that is.

“Street?” you ask without opening your eyes. You try to imagine the voice in your head again, and the simple thought of Jim Street gives you the strength to stand. “Street!” you yell. You’re interrupted by a cough, but you call for him again and hope you aren’t imagining his presence.

“What can you see?” Street yells.

He sounds closer now, and you smile as you reply, “Dust!”

“Cute,” Street says, his voice quieter but clear.

You turn to the side, and your eyes widen when you see him. Street steps to you and pulls you against his chest, hugging you tightly. He cradles your head against his chest for a moment before he pulls back and lays a hand against your cheek to look at your face.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests. “You feel okay?”

You nod and agree, leaning against Street as he follows Luca’s radioed directions to a clear exit. In the light of day, you can see that you and Street are both covered in dust, but there’s no one else you’d rather have beside you for support. You like having him by your side, you realize, and you wouldn’t mind staying at his side even when you’re off-duty.

“Thank goodness,” Street sighs. “I thought I’d forgotten what you looked like without all the City Hall powder on you.”

“You stare at her enough it should be burned into your mind,” Luca teases as he waves at you. “Have a good one.”

“You too, Luca,” you call.

“You want to come over?” Street offers, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. “I can make you dinner.”

You smile as you close your locker. “I really want to, Street. But isn’t your mom at your place right now? Don’t you need to spend time with her, before, you know?”

“Is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

“I didn’t say no,” you argue with a smile. “I don’t want to intrude, though.”

“Come with me,” Street repeats, offering his hand.

You lay your palm over his, and you know you are home. Your place has always been by Jim Street, and you’re finally seeing that.

“Go ahead,” you murmur at Street’s door. “I’ll either be here to take you to my place or I’ll come in later.”

Street nods and squeezes your fingers gently. As he enters his apartment, he sighs. “Hey,” he tells his mom.

“How was work?” she asks.

“It was good,” Street lies. You were in danger, it was terrible, but his mom has enough to deal with already. Not that he would have told her the truth anyway. “How you feeling, Mom?”

“My headache’s cleared away, so… Thank you so much for coming and getting me. Uh, thank your friend, too. You okay?”

Street doesn’t answer, his eyes straying to the door, where you’re waiting to be everything he needs and more. Not because you have to or feel some obligation or twisted sense of responsibility for him, but because you want to.

“I’m so sorry, Jimmy, that you had to see me like that,” Karen continues. “Sometimes your mom’s just pretty sick.”

The door opens, and Street doesn’t turn around because he knows it isn’t you.

“Mrs. Street,” Karen’s parole officer says, “I have to remand you back into state custody for parole violations. You missed several check-in appointments and were found under the influence or narcotics.”

“You reported me?” Karen asks Street.

“So that you can get treatment, get better,” Street explains.

“I can’t go back to jail. Jimmy, I can’t go back to prison, I can’t. After all I’ve been through and all I’ve done for you, you’re sending me back? What kind of son would do this to his mother?”

“The kind that doesn’t want you to die.”

You watch as Karen is led out of Street’s apartment. With her back to you, she never sees you, but you heard everything. The door is still open, but you knock regardless as you step into Street’s home. His eyes are on the floor until you enter, and then he looks up with sadness evident on his face. Jim Street has never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but with you, he’d rip it out of his chest and place it in your loving hands without second-guessing that you’d treat it better than he ever could.

“Jim,” you say softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Street gently grabs your left wrist, closing his fingers around your skin and feeling your pulse thump beneath his touch. With his other hand, he pushes the door closed. When you step closer to him, Street pulls you into his arms and drops his head to your shoulder. Carefully, you move your hands to rub between his shoulders while gently brushing through his short hair.

“You did the right thing,” you promise him. “You love her. Even if she can’t see it, you did the right thing.”

Street’s arms tighten around your waist, and you close your eyes as you hold him.

“What do you want for dinner?” Street asks against your shirt.

You chuckle at his sudden change of subject, but neither you nor Street move. The comfort, the peace, the love you feel at every point of connection you have with Street is better than anything you’ve ever felt or will ever feel in the future.

“What if we order from your favorite place?” you suggest.

“Why?” Street mumbles, his hands clutching the back of your shirt.

“Uh, because you like it.”

“No, I mean, why stay with me, be here for all of this?”

You gently push Street back to look into his eyes. With your hands on either side of his face, you smile and answer, “Because I want to be. Right here is the best place I’ve ever been.”

Street smiles, his dimples appearing beneath your thumbs at your honesty. With his hands at your side, Street leans his forehead against yours and sighs.

“I really am hungry,” he admits.

“I thought we were having a moment,” you tease, brushing your thumbs over his dimples.

As you look into Street’s eyes, you desperately want to kiss him. After everything that’s happened, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable or force him into something he isn’t ready for yet. So, you wait.

“You didn’t listen to me. When I told you to get out of City Hall… you were all I could think about and when we realized what Cinque’s crew was doing, I realized that I need you, all the time,” Street confesses.

“I thought you were hungry,” you whisper.

“You can’t have it both ways,” Street replies happily. “Unless you want it both ways, and then I’ll find a way to make it work.”

“I want you, Street,” you say. “Now and forever, I want nothing but you.”

“Even with all the drama?”

“And the trauma,” you affirm with a nod. “We all have pasts and baggage, Street.”

“Would kissing you immediately after sending my mom back to jail be weird?”

“Now that you’ve pointed it out, yes, it would.” You step back and suggest, “Dinner and then we try to find another moment?”

“Only if you’re in it,” Street answers.

[rs8ndead]

❛ addicted ❜ ⸻ dating Trevor Philips

── ﹙ 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ MASTERLIST&INFO.﹚. ☆

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ SUMMARY.﹒⟢ ⸻ Trevor as a boyfriend. 🤗🤗

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ PAIRING.﹒⟢ ⸻ trevor philips x gn/gender neutral! reader.

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ A/N.﹒⟢ ⸻ EEEEEEEK first headcanons post of one of my TOP hyperfixations HOORAY ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ I love characters like Trevor,,,, like characters who are stinky and or crime lords :3 so fun to write because they’re just MAD crazy 🎀🎀 he’s also so easy to write to because I made a original character BASED off of Trevor and to ship with Trevor, I really wanna write like fanfiction of the two together but I’m not sure if anybody will like… like it or anything 💔💔😓 ( I hope I’m writing Trevor right, I’d freak out if I weren’t writing one of my favorite comfort characters correctly )

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ TAGLIST﹒⟢ ⸻ none 💔 pls let me know if you guys wanna be in my taglist for everything that I write or for something specific :33

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ﹙©rs8ndead﹚

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ TAGLIST﹒⟢ ⸻ none 💔 pls let me know if you guys wanna be in my taglist for everything that I write or for something specific :33

🩸  ⸺  the most clingiest man ever. From clinging onto your waist if not constantly when you guys are alone, to following you around everywhere you go and holding onto your hand as if he were some body guard, being nosy and peeping himself into your business ( example: phone call ), intrusive staring towards you, sniffing them without context or warning at all, invading personal space ( he has no sense of it ), constant and constant communication, overwhelming relentless and continuous affection, regular rambling and blabbering about how much he loves you and that he would literally do anything for you ( committing crimes such as robbery, credit card fraud, murder, arson, etc etc THE LIST GOES ONNNNN ), no he will not stop any of his suffocating and overwhelming actions until you probably like communicate out your boundaries with him. He grew up with a horrible childhood, he’s not really socially aware of how creepy he can be when he starts to date somebody. It’s very obvious that he’s got an emotional attachment to you.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  despite his history of hooking up with other woman and his chaotic mess of a personality, Trevor truly feels there is a bond with you and him and that there’s actual chemistry, instead of just sex and splitting ways after wards. He loves you so very deeply and isn’t afraid to show you that he loves you, at all.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  Trevor is all putty when it comes to you, like a baby kitten. He’s your lil meow meow for real, ESPECIALLY when you give him any form of affection.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  takes you out on shopping sprees constantly whenever he can if you’ve got a hobby for shopping ( and yes of course, it’s allllll from Michael’s credit card, in which good ol’ Trev somehow managed to steal from him ) and constantly commits credit card fraud just so he can see you happy, if you TRY to persist he will just say something along the lines of: “sugar tits, no no no… let me spoil you.” And no, he will not take a no for an answer, he’ll even go as far as hiding your form of payment ( cash, credit, debit ) in a place where he knows you won’t find it, because he’s not letting you buy anything for yourself, at all. He’s paying for you, one way or another and he loves you and doesn’t want you to pay for yourself when you’ve got him. It’s a fifty / fifty relationship, he buys you stuff and other needs for you, and you just let him do that for you.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  if this man had good grammar AND could write ( because we all know, he cannot write for SHIT. ) you’d be getting those long ass love sappy letters, but IF you were a writer and you did that for him he would be all confused and asking you “huh what’s this say” and then be all a putty, crying even more clingy mess all over you and sobbing that he didn’t deserve you.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  before he started to officially date you, he definitely asked Michael ( and probably Wade, Ron, Franklin, and everybody who he knows but mostly Michael before he tells to shut the fuck up when he hears something he doesn’t like ) for relationship advice, and no he did not listen to Michael about ‘taking it slow’ and along with ‘don’t say I love you to quick’, because Trevor definitely most likely said those words ‘I love you’ when he meets you because he is SO IN LOVE with you it surpasses everything practically, he’s to dumb for relationship rules.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  it’s quite obvious that he’s got an emotional attachment to you. You know that erotic Calendar and those also erotic photos of women in their bikinis that are on the walls of his trailer?? Yeah, he took it down and just replaced it with photos of you.( one of the advices that he listened to from Michael )

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  he loves like a puppy, constantly all over you as he’s practically and literally your number one hype man, complimenting you and being all desperate for you and crushing on you even though you and him are both dating. He worships you to the point where its concerning.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  the type of guy to gift you rocks he thinks you’d find cool that he would find on sandy shores whenever he’s spending time away from you ( he hopes you find the rocks he gifts you cool; otherwise he’d be disappointed in himself )

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

🩸  ⸺  literally the dream boyfriend. I don’t CAREEEEEEE he’s the dream boyfriend.