#I'm enjoying the jacket details up close

[mizgnomer]

David Tennant at the 2024 British LGBTQ+ Awards where he was the recipient of the Celebrity Ally award

for Tennant Tuesday (or whatever day this post finds you)

Bonus: Video of part of his excellent acceptance speech [ x ]

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍

Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader

Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.

Word count : 3.2k

Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.

A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn

masterlist

ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.

'Hello?'

'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.

'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.

'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'

You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.

'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'

-

You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.

Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.

You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.

-

Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.

'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.

'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.

'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.

'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.

You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.

You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.

His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.

'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.

'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.

He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.

'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.

'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.

Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.

'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.

He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.

You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.

'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'

'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.

'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.

'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.

'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.

'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.

'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.

'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.

'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.

'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.

'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.

That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.

'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.

'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.

He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.

'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.

'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.

'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.

'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.

'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.

At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.

One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.

'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.

He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.

'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.

'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.

'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.

'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.

'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.

'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.

'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.

After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.

'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.

'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.

'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.

Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.

You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.

'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.

'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.

'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.

'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.

'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.

'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.

'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.

'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.

'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.

'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'

He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.

'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.

'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.

'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.

'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.

'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.

'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.

'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.

'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.

'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.

'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.

'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.

'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.

'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.

'You little-'

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3

[snoringkitty1]

Aventurine boyfriend Headcanons

TW: Fluff, not proofread, Mildly suggestive content. Enjoy <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Aventurine at the beginning of your relationship is a flirty bastard, he'll tease you to high hell and leave you high and dry for his own amusement.

There is 0 initial affection, he's only in it for his entertainment or because he has something to gamble or get from you.

Kisses you with his eyes open, atleast at the start.

But gradually, when you realizes you won't be leaving because of his lack of effort, he might just soften up and start to let his guard down a little.

Though of course this is after a while, but you'll start to see the more vulnerable and faint side to him.

He'll become more affectionate gradually the more he begins to trust you with his feelings, though, it still might take a while. Patience is key.

He's still flirty no doubt, but now there's actually feelings and meaning to his words, and they aren't bluffs anymore.

His sense of fashion may or may not rub off on you..aka he forces you to wear matching clothes, it makes him feel special.

"Do i really need to where this..? Matching outfits are so tacky." You grumbled and adjusted the hat on your head before sighing and taking it off, running your fingers along the rim and raising a brow. "Well, you don't need to, but i would love you more if you did." He joked and fixed a few details on your jacket before taking the hat from your hands and setting it on your head. "You don't love me enough already?" You pouted and looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head, pulling you close for a kiss, his hands holding tight onto your waist as he trapped you in a kiss. "I love you~" He cooed softly and leaned back, "Some matching clothes won't change that." he assured and rubbed your cheek before stepping back and putting his hands in his pockets, "now~ shall we?"

The king of shopping dates, if you don't like shopping though, then the two of you will probably be having at home dates most of the time.

But don't think for a second he isn't buying the most delectable (and expensive) food he can find, because to him, if its clothes, food, hair, nails, you name it. He thinks you're a worthy investment (he just likes to spend money on you.)

Speaking of giving presents, thats simply his love language, because i reckon he feels like if he gives enough, then he won't have to worry about you leaving him.

That being said, he'll need a bunch of reassurance to stop giving random super expensive presents. He'll still give you some regardless but he'll tone it down significantly.

He comes off as the kind of guy who only gives or takes longer kisses, to me atleast.

He might use this to his advantage if he perhaps gets jealous, which i think happens pretty often.

But i think there's also a chance of him just absolutely demolishing you once you two are home behind closed doors.

Switch energy, but can and will top when he feels like it.

He'll let you decide the pace though, he doesn't want intimate moments to feel transactional.

Afterwards, i Dunno i feel like he'd just fall asleep with you, then take of you the next morning.

You rolled away onto your stomach..or tried to, the tight grip of a certain blonde kept you from moving too far away. When you let out an uncomfortable grunt though, Aventurine was quick to let go and sit up to check on you. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, smiling a little before closing them again, "I'm fine, i'm fine.." you mumbled softly, but that didn't deter him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek before getting up, you opened your eyes and sat up on your elbows to watch him, he disappeared into the closet briefly and returned with one of his shirts. "Here you go Darling~" he cooed softly and held the shirt out from you, his messy bed head framed his face nicely. "ah..thank you-" you smiled and put it on before flopping back again. "Anything else i can get you? I can order food, or make bre-" He paused when you pulled him close all of a sudden. "Just cuddle with me for a little bit.." You muttered softly, and He nodded, pulling you close again..and like that, you two were cozy and asleep in minutes.

Thanks for reading.

[killuintense]

could you write a one shot of Leon and fem!reader talking about having a baby together? Leon assuming he would have to go easy on the alcohol and y/n happy to give Leon baby plsss ily<3 vvvv

❝ baby fever ❞

leon kennedy x fem!reader.

summary: the idea of confessing to you that incessant idea in his head to tell you that you would be an excellent mother, was consuming Leon.

content: 1.3k words, fluff, mention of pregnancy, a very cheesy and sweet Leon, mention of alcoholism, comfort.

note: i loved placing your request, thank you very much for making it and i hope you enjoy it, ilyyyy ♡ ♡

The night seemed to be calm and typical for that season of the year. The breeze was gently breezing and ruffling Leon's ashen hair as he quietly opened the door of the house without trying to make too much noise. It wasn't too late, but he didn't want to be loud, especially after spending all day at the main D.S.O. base taking care of paperwork and reports after his last assignment at Alcatraz prison. He laughed when he remembered your concern the moment you learned that he had been infected by a virus, blaming you for not accompanying him as you usually did being an important agent of the association.

"Ahmmm..." he heard a soft sound emitted by you from the kitchen and soon remembered that little detail. Your best friend had asked you as a last minute favor to babysit her baby for that whole day as family problems had arisen. She remembered the image of the morning. You, holding in your arms that little girl with golden hair and chubby cheeks, you and your look of love and tenderness. Leon would bet that he had never seen you make that face before, and a strange feeling welled up in his chest. Almost as if from his heart exploding in a feverish sense of need it was present "So goood, what a good girl, you like applesauce, don't you?" a complicit chuckle let itself be heard and Leon hesitated to enter the kitchen where your voice came from. He hesitated because he knew that if he came in and saw you behaving in such a natural and loving way with the little baby, many incoherent words and impulsive ideas would come out of his mouth.

However, the day had been long enough without wanting to see his beloved so he didn't hesitate to leave his blue leather jacket hanging in the entrance and enter the kitchen, watching how you held little Rosemary in your arms and gave her that preparation with enthusiasm "My love..." it almost came out in a sigh, and you admired it with surprise.

"Leon!" the excitement could be heard in your voice and dazzled in your eyes "I didn't hear the door, I'm sorry I didn't welcome you, Honey" you smiled and took the baby's little hand to improvise a greeting to Leon. He could feel his face heat up and if it wasn't for the baby on top of you, he would have run to lock you in his arms, sinking into a kiss that only he was capable of giving you. Before he could speak any more, though, the doorbell rang and soon you both realized that it was probably your friend finally showing up as promised.

He could see the disappointment in your eyes, knowing that if it was for you you could have her for another day playing with your cheeks as she laughed with amusement; and the blond wondered if he couldn't fall more in love, wondered if his love for you would make him explode. He needed to make you more his than you already were. He needed to sink into you in a different way and mark you, leave something of him forever in you.

"I really wish she would have stayed longer" you mentioned once the baby joyfully welcomed her mother's arms "You know you can trust me if you need help again" you offered and exchanged words of encouragement with your friend, cheering her up and congratulating her on having such a beautiful baby. Leon also waved, stood behind you with that soft smile he was only naturally able to do when he had you around. But he wasn't being enough. He wanted to close the damn door and tell you about that crazy idea that had been going around in his head since that morning he saw you with a little baby in your arms, about that feeling that invaded him when he took you by the waist hugging you and leaving a kiss on your lips and a soft caress on the little one's cheek before saying goodbye and leaving for work. He felt for the first time the feeling of a.... family. A family he only wanted to have if it was with you.

"Ah..." once you closed the door you stretched and yawned, hanging on the back of Leon's neck to hug him tightly "I really miss you today, big boy" you teased at the nickname, depositing a kiss on his jawline as scarred as it was rough, feeling the stubble of a couple of days unshaven.

"I missed you more..." he seemed as self-absorbed as ever, moving his hands from your waist to your belly, caressing it gently. It caught your attention that he would do that, of course, but you assumed he was affectionate because of the distance and remoteness that had consumed you during that week due to work. But you didn't think that Leon's mind was wandering in a need so primitive that it even saddened him "You really would make an excellent mother" he suddenly blurted out, staring at you as he gently bumped his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, sorry for pushing you into that situation.

"Is that a proposal, Kennedy?" you smiled, you loved it when he got shy like that. That remembered you when he was younger and still didn't know how to handle himself, how he wasn't able to carry all the traumas he had on his shoulders. "Leon... do you really think I would make a good mother?" you asked unsurely, a pressure in your chest made as it dawned on you that Leon wanted you to be the mother of his children. That he wanted to take that step with you.

"Obviously! Fuck, sometimes I find myself thinking about that too much" he smiled, kissing your cheek repeatedly causing you to giggle in amusement "Can you imagine? A little girl running all over the house, accompanying us everywhere, laughing and being happy..." his voice trailed off softly and he smiled "Being happy like we would have liked to be at some point. Not thinking about abandonment and the sadness of not having a home to return to" he squeezed your waist, as if trying to be aware that you were there, that you hadn't faded away. "And I know that last year was terrible... but I need to start again, I need to forget that I can drown my sorrows in alcohol" he murmured, ashamed of himself.

"Leon..." you took his cheek and smiled, kissing his lips softly "You'll make an excellent father, you know that, don't you?" a sparkle came into Leon's eyes, almost as if the hope of a future was opening in front of him, holding your hand, happy to move forward "Although to be honest, I'd like a mini Leon" you laughed, brushing your nose against his, in a sweet Eskimo kiss.

"If it's with you I wouldn't mind having a litter of mini Leons" he joked, though in a corner of his mind his almost animal instinct thought that if you let him he was capable of filling you completely until you couldn't take any more. 'We're not rabbits... for now' he thought, and chuckled to himself before he felt you pull away to go to the kitchen.

"Especially since I'm sure if she grows up to be a girl, she's going to be a spoiled daddy's princess" you said loud enough for him to hear and started cleaning up the dishes you had messed up during the day. Soon a giggle came closer and Leon's soft footsteps came into view, catching you around the waist as he let out a mocking sigh in your ear, sending a burst of electricity down your spine.

"Don't be like that, if you love that I spoil you, mh" he kissed your neck and you couldn't help but feel your body temper. You wouldn't give up that feeling of need for anything, that feeling of Leon wanting and having the instinct to take you in a way beyond what himself could have thought. You couldn't wait for the day to come, to one day have the privilege of having a seed of him growing inside you.

[mionemymind]

Lost in the Universe (Part 1)

Summary: Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Slight Angst?

A/n: I know I haven't written in a while. But recently I've been on a surge to start writing again. I hope you all enjoy and please tell me honestly how you feel about it. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Part 2

Y/n dropped into a new universe, barely landing on her feet. She scrambled to find balance as the portal above her closed. “What the fuck?” Y/n wiped off her hands as she looked around the unfamiliar area. 

“Are you lost dekta?” Y/n spun around at the sound of her voice. A smile plastered on Y/n’s face when she saw Wanda. She took a couple of steps when she felt something was different with the girl in front of her. “Wanda?”

The brunette chuckled at the obvious confusion. “It’s me dekta.” Y/n still grew apprehensive. She looked around the location she was in. They were on a simple farm surrounded by acres of grape trees. There was a barn and home in the distance and sheep and cows grazed the plain. “I don’t think you’re my Wanda though,” Y/n said as kindly as possible. It was scary to be in a new world without a clue as to how they operate. Even though Y/n knew that the woman in front of her wasn’t exactly her Wanda, it still gave her some type of peace knowing there was a version of her here. 

“And you’re not my Y/n.” Y/n’s nerves eased with the comment as Wanda broke the distance between them. “So let’s get you back to my home and figure out how this happened.” 

“Make yourself at home.” Wanda took off her dirty boots at the front and walked to the kitchen. She took the kettle out from the drawer and filled it with water. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Is that your favorite in your world?”

“It is!” Y/n yelled from the front of the house. She took off her shoes and jacket, hoping to not get the house dirty. The entrance of the house led them into a decent-sized living room filled with various decorations and plants. 

Y/n didn’t mean to snoop but she couldn’t help but look at all the photos framed on the wall and tables. The first photo that caught her eye was a picture of young Wanda and Pietro back in what Y/n could guess was their hometown. She picked it up and analyzed it in detail.

“I miss him,” Y/n whispered to herself. Wanda noticed this as she walked in with two cups of hot chocolate. “We were only five in that photo. I think we went to the zoo that day. Probably one of our better pictures when we were younger. Everything else is either him or me or the both of us crying.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wanda nodded for approval, “is your Pietro still alive?” Wanda could sense this was a sensitive subject and gave Y/n one of the cups while directing her to the couch. 

“Yes, my Pietro is still alive. Currently, he’s away on work.” Y/n gave a small smile, the feeling of missing Pietro grew inside. “I’m happy to hear that.” Y/n took a small sip of her hot chocolate, making sure not to spill the hot drink on herself. 

“So your Y/n likes hot chocolate?” Wanda smiled in agreement. “Yes, my Y/n does like hot chocolate. She’s the only reason I have some. I’m just glad that part of her is with you as well. I hope it finds you comfort though because it must be scary to be in a completely different universe.”

“Well,” Y/n thought maybe lying would help ease her anxiety, but the presence of Wanda, even though it wasn’t necessarily her Wanda, made her want to tell the truth, “it is scary. I’m just hoping they find me. But you have been pretty calm for this whole ‘I managed to drop on your farm out of all the locations in this universe’ thing.” 

“Your humor appears to be the same no matter the universe,” Wanda playfully said. “But the reason I’m not freaking out is because in this universe, I’m aware of my other counterparts. Luckily enough, you dropped into a universe where I have my powers.” Wanda proceeded to show off her magic, covering Y/n in red swirls momentarily. 

“Are you able to drop me back home?” Wanda politely smiled, setting her cup down on the table nearby. “I’m sorry dekta. I unfortunately don’t have that type of power as of yet.” 

Y/n sighed in defeat, her anxiety coming back with worried thoughts. Wanda reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand in a comforting manner. Even in different universes, Wanda Maximoff cared for Y/n Y/l/n. This was a simple fact that would not change. “However, your Wanda is currently on the hunt for you.” 

“She is?” Y/n placed her cup down, her hand still interlaced with Wanda’s. “The rules of the universe don’t allow any conversation to happen between each other but we can still feel each other. So when you dropped into my world, I could feel the slight imbalance. But, you just happen to be dating one of the most powerful people in the universe.” Y/n blushed at the compliment, already knowing that she was lucky to even date Wanda in the first place. 

“And the perk of dating powerful people is that we can feel other things in different universes. Right now, I can feel her dropping into other universes, trying her best to find you.”

“What if she can’t find me?” Y/n pouted. Wanda smiled even more. It was refreshing to see that their love expanded beyond her world. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek with her free hand, “This is something I will share only with you.” Listening intently, “You and your Wanda have a special connection. Think of it as a tether. Right now, she’s tugging on that tether hoping that if she continues to pull on it, it will lead back to you. No amount of magic, power, or science can cause this tether to break. It might be a little tangled with how many universes you might’ve accidentally gone through, but she will reach you in time.” 

“So believe me when I say this dekta, Wanda will always find you.” Wanda kissed Y/n’s forehead and proceeded to get up. “In the meantime, my Y/n is away on a mission. You’re free to stay here with me until all of this gets sorted out.”

Wanda walked back to the front of the house, putting her shoes back on. “Is there anything I can do to help out while I wait?”

“Wanna help me with the goats?” 

After a long day of work, Wanda and Y/n lay in the hammock near the campfire, admiring the stars that the night offered. “When I looked at your photos, I noticed none of them were of just you and I, how come?” 

Wanda blushed at the directness and was thankful that it was nighttime. “You see, my Y/n and I aren’t dating yet.” Y/n faced Wanda with a ridiculous look. “Are you serious? How come I haven’t confessed? If there’s a world where there’s a you and an I, then we must be together.”

“I’m not sure. We bought this farm together to get away from the city and have some peace time before they spring our next mission on us. Even then, she doesn’t seem to have the courage to confess.” Wanda sighed, her patience was running thin but she knew it was worth the wait. 

“Do you need me to get myself together?” Wanda laughed at the offer, clearly imagining two Y/n’s talking to each other. “I’ll probably be the one to have to confess first if she doesn’t do it soon.” 

“Just to be sure, does the Y/n here like you like that?” 

“Oh, I’m more than positive that my Y/n likes me back,” Wanda cockily states. 

“What makes you so certain? Back then, it took me forever to confirm that my Wanda even liked me.”

“Cause within our tethers, I can feel her. I’ve only ever felt her. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to tie me to her if she didn’t feel the same way.” There was more to the truth than Wanda could let on, because in every universe, Y/n and Wanda always fall in love with each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the era, and no matter the time. 

“I didn’t know the universe could be kind like that.” 

They continued to star watch when a red portal in the sky opened up and out came two figures. One landed roughly as the other descended slowly onto the ground. Y/n and Wanda got up from their hammock and walked towards them. 

“Wanda?” Y/n yelled out in the distance, hoping it was them and not an alien invasion. “Y/n?!” Wanda came rushing into Y/n’s arm, feeling her worries slip away as she finally was with her again. “I thought I lost you,” Wanda stated with worry. Today had been a long day for her and America Chavez. Hopping from universe to universe was hard, especially with a young teen that has no clue how to control her powers. 

“You could never lose me,” Y/n stated confidently. Wanda pulled back from the hug and sealed a kiss, one that made both of their knees weak and minds numb with love. Pulling away slowly, pressing their foreheads against each other, Wanda said, “Let's go home dekta.” 

Y/n nodded in agreement and intertwined their hands. They walked back to the portal but not before Y/n waved goodbye to this universe’s Wanda. “I hope she confesses soon!” 

Wanda smiled back in return and waved. Telepathically, Wanda said, “Thank you for taking care of my Y/n.” 

“Anytime, Wanda.” 

Part 2

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @shadowybailiffdreamer-donkey @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @second-try-stevie @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha @itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @isitallreallyworthit @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff @imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​ @olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00

A/n: I just used the same tag list from Fake Memories. If you didn't want to be tagged, I'm sorry.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Sanji finds you crying and pretends to believe your excuses. Is anyone up for slow dancing in the rain?]

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When the time for supper came, Sanji knocked on your door to let you now. He was met with silence, so he naturally assumed you were sleeping. Not much of a problem - he'll set aside a portion for when you wake up hungry.

The problem is, that was around two hours ago.

Sanji knocked on your door again and when silence answered him this time also, he allowed himself to peek inside. Only to discover your bed is empty. He grew suspicious, if not worried, when no one could tell him where you went. It's the middle of the night and the rainstorm doesn't stop. Sanji also noticed how quiet and upset you've been most of the day, making him all the more tense that you are unaccounted for. The thought that you're obediently suffering in silence breaks him more each time he entertains it.

Sanji is scrubbing the cutting board with feverish vigour. The faster he finishes, the faster he can get to making sure you're fine. As though the fish scales knew his thoughts, they simply wouldn't get off the wooden surface.

The steel scrubber escapes his hands. It hits the sink with a quiet clank. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and looks away from the pile of dishes. That's when he finally sees you through the smudged porthole. The rain outside obscures your silhouette. Nevertheless, Sanji is beyond convinced that it is, in fact, you. Despite the initial relief, he feels his chest tighten. You look like a marble statue, forever frozen still in grief.

Leaving the cutting board in the sink and grabbing his suit jacket, Sanji dashes out the door, making haste to you. What on Earth do you think you're doing out in this weather?

The cold rain hits him like a wall of ice. True, the cool water may feel refreshing after the hot and humid daytime hours but not at this rate of rainfall. Even if the nights in the open sea weren't so dark, it would still be impossible to see anything beyond the ship.

He has to come close to you to see the heartwrenching details of your silhouette. You're hunched over, staring at the turbulent waters below. The clothes you're wearing are absolutely drenched, no dry string in their material. Every now and then, your freezing body shivers violently.

"Love?" he calls out to you in an unsure voice.

But you don't react - at least not in the way he has been expecting you to. Instead of looking at him, you turn your face further away, quickly wiping it with your hands.

Sanji wastes no time. In long strides, he finds himself pressed up against your side and forcing his jacket around your shoulders. Considering the heavy rain it won't do much in the long run but maybe it can keep you warm until he convinces you to go back inside.

"Hey, look at me," he pleads in a soft voice.

Too tired and heartbroken, you let his warm fingers guide your face towards him. As if time suddenly slows down, you notice each wrinkle that appears and disappears when he studies your sorrowful expression. If he was a little less perceptive, Sanji would think your face is just wet from the heavy rainfall. The red veins of your bloodshot, puffy eyes are hardly visible in the darkness of the rainy night but not black enough to remain unseen by Sanji.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying? What happened?" he keeps asking. With each question, he feels the tension in his chest only rising.

"I'm not crying, I'm perfectly fine," you reassure him. Your forced scoff is followed by a pathetic sniffle. "It's just the rain. Saltwater irritated my eyes."

Of course, with your whole "I'm brave and strong and I can manage on my own" facade, you're not going to openly admit to weakness in front of anyone, even if it's painfully obvious. As much as Sanji considers your tough image charming, he wishes you would discard it once in a while - for your own sake.

"How can you be fine with saltwater in your eyes, princess?" Sanji goes along with your poorly constructed lie. His arms engulf you in a warm, albeit drenching wet, hug. "It must burn."

"Yeah, it does," you mumble against his soaking shirt. With a little more light, you would be able to see his bare skin from underneath the wet material. "But it's getting better."

One of Sanji's hands is keeping your head against his shoulder while the other drags up and down your back in a soothing gesture. The jacket he has put around your arms is already drenched, too. He feels your body shaking but can't be sure whether it's because of the "saltwater" or the cold weather. In any case, his heart breaks each time he feels those spasms. His mind panics in search of something that could possibly lift your mood.

The noise of the rainfall is disrupted by a soft, low hum. A melody you vaguely know rumbles inside Sanji's chest. Dean Martin...? Strong arms hold you tightly against his torso as he ever-so-gently sways you to the rhythm of the song.

A quiet giggle escapes your lips as you let yourself sink into the comfort of him. Up until this moment, the cosiness of a loved one's arms confronted with the coldness of a rainstorm, you've thought that scenes like these exist only in sappy novels written for naive young women.

"Slow dancing in the rain," you finally speak up. If it wasn't for the rather unpleasant rain drenching you to every last string of your clothing, yous wear you could fall asleep like this. "Aren't you a hopeless romantic, Sanji?"

"I'm just getting started, love," he murmurs against your hair, still slowly swaying your bodies despite having stopped the humming. You're inclined to believe that his chivalry ventures far beyond dancing in the rain.

"Oh, yes, please."

A low chuckle rumbles inside his chest. It merges into a symphony with the soft thrumming of his steady heartbeat.

"Feeling any better?" he asks in a serious tone.

To Sanji's dissatisfaction, you lean away from him to look at his face. Your eyes are still red but the curious glint he's learned to associate with you has found its way back into them. It seems like your grit, honesty or facade, has returned.

"What will you do if I say no?" you ask back.

As relief washes over him, Sanji smiles down at you. His hand slicks your drenched hair out of your puffy face.

"I should figure something out just for my baby," he answers without missing a beat. His fingers brush along your jaw and chin.

Before you have a chance to inquire, Sanji leans down and lifts you. A yelp of surprise is pulled out of your chest. Without much problem and clearly with a lot of enjoyment, he carries you back inside the lower deck of the ship.

[pomegranateandblood]

do you think you can do a wally clark fluff turned into smut maybe? i know you said you only do smut but i would love it if u could! thank u!

A/N: Heyyy. Welcome to my first fic for this blog. You wanted more fluff so I kept the smut a little bit on the down low for this, because usually I write full on smexy times. Thank you for requesting and Enjoy! ❤️🍍

—

Friends

It was Homecoming week. You and the other ghosts were busy decorating the gym and painting posters to support Wally.

You were washing your hands and arms free off the dry blue paint as the brunette jock approached you. He seemed nervous.

„Everything okay ? You know it's the same routine as every year." You smiled looking at him through the mirror.

He had paint on his cheeks and arms, some even got into his ebony hair. „Look umm, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my date to the homecoming game?"

He was beet red, looking down at his hands. „-as friends of course."

You had to hold back a smile at his cute attempt not to make you flustered or embarrassed by his request.

Turning the faucet off, you dried your hands with paper towels before turning around. „I didn't guess you were the type to be ‚just friends' with a girl, football star."

You smirked playfully and he stared at you, mouth slightly open. „I- umm." he laughed nervously trying to find a right comeback.

„I guess I'm just not your type. Sadly." You clicked your tongue against your cheek before leaning close to his ear „Because I totally got a thing for tall, brunette jocks."

He sucked in a breath and before you could walk away held onto your arm. „It's a date. Wear a skirt."

You bit your lip as you nodded and walked away.

„Please" he added, his enthusiastic voice hollowing through the empty bathroom, making you giggle. Wally couldn't be not nice.

—-

As you waited for Wally in front of the stadium, you became more nervous. You really liked him and hoped that today you two could do something about the unresolved feelings.

Charly had helped you go through the wardrobe of the theatre club to find a skirt and matching outfit. Luckily they had just performed a more modern version of ‚Hairspray', resulting in you now wearing a pastel blue pleated skirt and a white tank top with a bow detail.

Good Thing that ghosts couldn't freeze bc else you definitely would've caught a cold in the chilly evening air.

„I hope I didn't make you wait too long, I couldn't find my jersey."

-

The date went well, Wally was enjoying the match.

After you two finished the fries and hot dogs he held your hand. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, flushing your cheeks.

„I got a gift for you." Wally said, taking out a box from the pocket of his letterman jacket.

It was a cardboard box, painted with the same paint you used for the posters.

„I found a necklace in the Lost and Found Box and the charm is wood. I wish I could give you something real and more special.“ Wally said as he opened the lid.

Inside was a silver necklace with a small pendant. The number 57. Wally‘s number.

You smiled. „It‘s perfect.“

Taking it out of the box, you fumbled with the clasp to put it on.

„I love it, Wally. Thank you" you said, touching the little pendant on your cleavage.

Your eyes drifted from his plush lips to his chocolate orbs, contemplating if you should kiss him. Before you could move, his hand touched your thigh at the seam of your skirt, burning your skin.

He licked his lips before leaning forward, giving you an innocent smooch. Noses to Nose he whispered. „I'm glad you don't want to be my friend."

The Hand on your thigh moved up to your hips and pulled you on his lap, your back pressed against the edge of the table. Being touched by him felt so good.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, capturing his lips again. He moaned into your mouth, which made you move your hips against his lap.

His hair was soft between your fingers and you slightly pulled at it. His hands snuck under your skirt, securing your hips on his crotch.

„Mmh is that why you wanted me to wear a skirt?" you teased, leaning your head back as he started kissing your neck.

The chuckle vibrated against the sensitive skin of your throat, right at your pulse point. You sighed.

„No, I just like the view of your legs. Even if it benefits me now." he groans.

You could feel the wetness of your panties as you tried to ease the friction between your thigh by pressing against him.

„Fuck, you want me to fuck you on this bench love?" He looks at you with dark eyes.

Wally must be uncomfortable in his tight football pants, so you pull at the strings securing it. „Yes please."

He helps you pull them off just enough to free his length, before he hungrily nips at your lips again.

His fingers pulled your panties to the side and you guided him inside of you.

Your other hand dug into the fabric of his football jersey and you moaned into his mouth. Placing his hands on your hips again, Wally thrusted up into you.

Your hips met his thrusts and you pulled away from his brusing kiss, trying to catch your breath.

„Wally" you moaned, clenching around him.

His lips explored your jawline down to your cleavage, biting and nipping. He would surely leave marks.

The edge of the table dug into your lower back with every thrust, but you didn't care. As long as the dark haired ghost kept on pleasuring you like this.

His Thumb found your clit, massaging with different paces, bringing you closer to the edge.

„Don't stop, please" you breathed, circling your hips more.

He kissed you again as he came, spilling inside you with a few sloppy thrusts.

You joined him, collapsing into his arms.

Wally held you, his hands caressing your back, finger playing with a few strands of your hair and you put your head against his chest, trying to spot his nonexistent heartbeat.

You realized neither of you talked about what this made you. A couple?

All you knew was that he made your heart flutter and your head dizzy. Hopefully this could last another lifetime. Or more.

—

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part ii.

“Free means “fuck.” She’s gonna fuck us, Sugar and you don’t even fucking care!” or it's your first day at The Bear (or is it The Beef still?), Richie is convinced you're a fed, and Carmen may or may not hate your guts.

A/N: well surprise, surprise! here's part two of i'm calling just to hear you scream. definitely more of a filler chapter before everything starts to implode and get more serious and downright grimey, but i hope you enjoy!

The shadows created by the awnings of the sandwiched businesses chill your bones while the Sun makes your backside sticky beneath your sweater and light spring jacket. Chicago is beautiful in March, but always full of surprises.

One day comes an icy snowstorm that adds to the gray slush collecting on the side of the street and the next a blissful sixty-one degrees that gaslights everyone into walking around with shorts on because it’s just “so warm.” 

You can’t revel in the tranquility for much longer. Not when you’re pretty sure you’re coming up on the address Natalie emailed you two nights ago. 628 West Wager Street sits prettily in between an old antique shop and a Chicago Cubs merchandise store that has definitely seen better days. Despite no sign hanging on the window and the glass completely shielded from outside eyes by brown butcher paper, it somehow looks like it belongs; the younger sibling of a once booming and vibrant street scene. 

Being outside of the door is a feeling that fills you with both anxiety and uncertainty. You know you’re in the right spot but you don’t feel like you are; not when you can’t hear any noise coming from any of the three storefronts that stand in front of you. You’re made even more uneasy when you see the five by eleven sheet of insulated foil wrap with capital letters written in Sharpie taped to the front window. 

The Beef is closed. Thank you for your patronage. The Bear is coming. 

The nerves start to hit you even harder. All Natalie had mentioned over the phone and through your frequent emails have been about needing help with a restaurant. The name of the aforementioned restaurant had never been disclosed and its location remained a mystery until this morning when you got an email with the unspoken directions that Apple Maps would omit. There’s nothing more embarrassing than doing a consult and not knowing any of the details. It’s even more humiliating when the feeling of being made a fool seems inevitable. 

Your arm refuses to move forward and yank the door open in case this is some sick prank. You half expect Becca to be hiding behind it with the “good ole boys” crew that is full of Senior and Junior partners at your law firm; their only purpose is to further humiliate and belittle you more than they already do on a day-to-day basis at the office. 

It’s a ridiculous thing to think that someone would care enough about you and your shame to do that, you know, but it’s the only way you can rationalize your brain warning you not to touch that door. Your eyes catch your reflection and suddenly you want the concrete sidewalk to swallow you whole. You take in how your navy blue pantsuit engulfs you and how your work bag seems to get heavier and heavier as it hangs solemnly at your side. 

You don’t belong here. 

The itch to turn around and run back to the train as fast as you could possibly manage crosses your mind, but the shattering of the quiet oasis around you interrupts that thought before it can materialize. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up!” you hear a voice scream.

“Do you ever realize you don’t know fuckin’ everything!” another one screams back. 

The sound of a wall being hit accompanies the shouts as well as numerous other voices joining in on the cacophony the verbal altercation created. 

Call it a hunch (or just having enough common sense), but you definitely are in the right place and there are certainly people inside. The scary part of not knowing is over. The absolutely horrifying part of having to see where you fit in is pending. 

Your fingers grip the solid metal door handle and you rip it open. The resounding squeal it emits makes you want the floor to swallow you up whole. The chaos of screaming shouting and yelling start to pause before the sound of the sledgehammer hitting the wall a second time interrupts it and sends it into a full frenzy once again. 

The world seems to be moving in slow motion and your words are caught in your throat. You’ve never seen chaos like this before, but you’ve definitely felt the way you’re currently feeling every day for the past five years. Faces you don’t know, a nagging feeling of responsibility, a dire need to do the best job you possibly can and not fucking up and not pissing anyone off, and yet no idea where to even start. 

“If I already fuckin’ told you you were tearing the wrong wall down why the actual fuck would you do it again!” a strained scream bounces off the walls. 

You jolt at the echo. The current lack of infrastructure and an igloo of scaffolding tarp amplifies the sound by three thousand decibels. 

He can’t see your face because his back is turned toward you, but the temperament and the mop of curls tell you the obvious. Carmen. Natalie’s brother and shareholder that she had subtly warned you about in a half-joking, half-not tone when you had spoken on the phone the other day. 

“To prove a fucking point,” a lankier taller man scoffs back. Richie. Their cousin, not cousin (which you don’t really understand, but you chalk it up to a deduction that not everything is meant to make sense), and the absolute bane of Natalie and Carmen’s existence at times. She had also warned you about him on the phone. “Even if I’m wrong you never fail to always think you’re fucking right like a – like a fucking baby! You walk around here pissed the fuck off and fucking changing everything and makin’ it everyone else’s fucking problem –” 

Carmen lunges at him and two other men from the crowd almost pick him up from the floor to prevent him from tackling Richie. 

“Everyone else’s prob – You’re my fucking problem! You’re my fuckin’ problem and all you know how to do is fuck up and make everything fuckin’ worse!” 

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuckin’ pissy ass pamper cry baby.” 

Carmen tries his hardest to wrangle himself out of the hold he’s currently in. Sydney, a genius and the Lord’s prayer (according to Natalie, also), clumps herself near him as he remains twisting and turning like a toddler fighting a parent’s protective hold through a temper tantrum. 

“Chill, chill, chill. Stop. Just stop,” she gently coos. Her hand claps the shoulder of one of the men holding him up. You can see the gentle squeeze it gives to provide silent comfort, but you wonder if the softness in her tone is to deescalate the situation or to help regulate herself. 

He’s dragged out to what you can assume is the backdoor and it slams with a cadence that demands attention. A sharp thud can be heard five seconds later accompanied by various, “Yo, what the fuck, dude?”’s. 

He must have kicked the door. He definitely kicked the door. 

Your body continues to stay frozen in the bare entryway. The survival skills you’ve adapted kick into full effect. Don’t make a move. Don’t make a sound. Do not piss anyone else off. 

The aftermath of commotion and chatter fills the room and leaves no space for you. You have half the mind to put your hand back on the handle and dip out before anyone notices. You’ve been here all of three minutes and you feel as if it’s been a year. The shouting and the hurtful insults and the frequent use of the word “fuck” send a blush down your chest. You’re embarrassed because you’re starting to think that you can’t handle it. You’re not good enough. You’re not strong enough. 

What the fuck were you thinking even coming here? 

The push of your thigh against the door causes the rusted metal hinge to groan again. The sound is indiscernible from relief or protest; staying or leaving. Either option makes your skin crawl. The sudden redirection of eyes casts a dome of silence and everyone zones in on the thing that wasn’t there before: you. 

No one moves and for a second, you don’t think anyone blinks. The realization of someone infiltrating a rather robust and rage-filled argument occurring at nine in the morning sinks in before the vein of awkwardness begins to bleed. You know the logical thing to do is to introduce yourself; to force a plaster-like smile on your face and extend your hand and ask how everyone is doing. 

But you don’t. 

You can’t. 

Natalie can feel the alarm bells going off in her head when her eyes float to your figure. You look worried; a flash of pensiveness and subtle fear floods your facial expression and she starts to panic. Opening a restaurant is beyond humbling and asking Becca Cantor for her help was a last-ditch effort to contain the smallest bit of confidence she had left. Besides, she would rather roll over and die than you to walk out that door, tell Becca about how they’re sledgehammering walls with a gang of lunatics at the restaurant, and somehow get a call from Uncle Jimmy that turns into a stern talking to about how they’re just dicking around with his money and how it’s a waste of time. 

You absolutely, positively can not walk out that door. 

She’ll make sure of it. Even if it’s the last thing she ever fucking does. 

Her feet carry her faster than what her brain is aware of. Her eyes have to catch up with the scenery passing her in a blur as she walks up to you. Seeing her face calms you down in a way that is small but not unnoticed. She has kind eyes and a calm demeanor. This is the kind of client that gives you confidence. This is the kind of client that brings you joy. This is the kind of work you were made to do. 

“Oh, hey! You found it!” she cheers. Her hand brushes against your bicep in a welcome. 

The pool of spit inside your mouth gets swallowed as you curtly nod. “Yeah! Yeah, I thought Apple Maps led me astray but I was definitely in the right spot.” 

Pretending not to notice the curious gazes behind your interaction proves difficult, but it’s not something you’re not used to. Working in an office means there’s always someone in your business and you always feel like you’re under constant surveillance. 

At least this time, the threat of humiliation seems considerably low. The obvious danger of being chased out of here with a sledgehammer is considerably high though. 

“How are you doing?” you ask quietly. A conversation of niceties always makes things less awkward and gives you some leeway for at least learning who the owners are of the staring eyes. 

“Yo, who the fuck is this, Suge?” Richie asks, wiping his plaster-covered hands on his shirt. His face still harbors a flush that had yet to dissipate. He also has kind eyes but you know from the moments you witnessed prior that he can turn his kindness off and on instantaneously. 

Natalie rolls her eyes and huffs. The damage control that she’s doing is not going to plan. She had grown up around cursing and incredibly forward questioning and knows that not everyone else had, and from the disastrous commotion you stumbled into five minutes prior and the way your eyes show more of the whites than the irises, the crudeness needs to take a backseat. 

At least enough of one to ensure that you’re not about to turn around and bolt out of that shitty ass door that she had been bitching at Richie to oil for the past two months. 

She moves to stand next to you and puts her arm around your shoulder. Natalie knows that the second they find out that you’re an attorney all hell will break loose. Something about accusing you of being “fed” and coming to rip the “fundamentals of democracy” out from under them brews in her mind and she gags a little at the thought of having to diffuse yet another shit show before ten in the morning. 

The unwelcome taste of acid tinging the back of her tongue makes her take a mental note to ask her OB about being so nauseous. 

“This is our attorney,” she starts and begins to ignore the groans coming from the crowd in front of her, “She’s gonna help us with some...things.” 

Richie scoffs and throws his hands up. He wipes at his nose with his forearm and some of the plaster residue makes a home on the tip of it. 

“You brought a fuckin’ fed in here, Sugar?” His eyebrows rise to his hairline and it doesn’t take a genius to know how he doesn’t want you here at all. “I told you I had this under wraps. The fuck do we need a fed up our ass for if we’re just tearin’ down walls and shit.” 

You sigh and Natalie can feel the anxiety radiating off of you. She’s starting to absorb it, but the fight in her to make this right persists. 

“Well, first of all, the fed has a fucking name, you dick,” she snaps, “And you’ve been slinging beef sandwiches your entire adult life so the fuck do we need you for?”  

Richie exhales as the rest of the people around him start to snicker. 

“Damn, Papa. You need to pipe down,” whom you guess is Tina from some of the people who had been mentioned to you through the phone calls (and there’s so many goddamn people in here for it to be out of business and you’re sure you’ll need to start doing flashcards every night to remember who they are). 

“Thanks, T,” Natalie and Richie chirp in unison; their voices capturing the different emotions of annoyance and triumph differently. 

Some more harsh words and excited chatter served with a side of frustration occurs and you’re so checked out that you don’t even realize that no one has asked you directly what your name is. The animated voices and exaggerated body movement swell the room even more; pushing you outside and three blocks away so vividly through emotion that you have to check to make sure your feet haven’t moved. 

No one has asked who you are and which firm you came from. No one has asked how you are. And still, no one has asked you what your name is. 

They continue to talk and joke and yell and you start to feel yourself shrinking in. 

Smaller, smaller, smaller. 

Gone. 

You know that it’s not personal. It’s almost never personal, but the mind tends to conjure up ideas when it can’t make sense of the feelings it detects from the body. 

Maybe it had just gotten thrown to the wayside. Maybe they were making room for direct conversation with you to occur later when things weren’t so awkward. Maybe they don’t hate you and think you’re the worst and may actually like you.

But then maybe they don’t. 

Maybe they just don’t give a fuck. 

In your catatonic daze, you hear an offhanded remark about how you look like a high schooler who just waltzed in after a Model UN convention and that Natalie has no idea what the fuck she was doing. The laughter that follows highlights those who actively agree and the agitated huffs of frustration show those who silently concur. 

In any other circumstance, you probably would have joined them in laughter or returned a smart-alecky response or accompanied them in making fun of you, but this isn’t a different circumstance. You’re in a construction zone on a Saturday morning, overdressed with a pantsuit on, and have not a clue on how hospitality law works, and the facts leave a non-disputable conclusion. 

You’re the odd one out and you can’t get an invite to be even no matter how hard you try.

You truly don’t belong here. 

“Richie, have you ever considered that maybe we need to do it right this time?” Natalie asks, her tone dripping annoyance, “Her being here clearly doesn’t affect your ability to be an idiot, so you can go fuck yourself because she’s staying.” 

Richie narrows his eyes at her. His lanky limbs flail as he attempts to make his emotions seen without having to verbalize them. Natalie has had it with his stubbornness and she knows that she might be puking her guts out in about fifteen minutes. The great debate has to have an ending in sight soon. 

Besides, she knows that Richie’s apprehension toward the whole thing is because he’s resisting change and trying to get under Carmen’s skin. It doesn’t matter how great she knows her brother can make something. Richie will try and put a pin in it before it becomes something he no longer recognizes. 

Just like their dad. Somewhat like Mikey. Especially like Carmen (even though she knows he doesn’t recognize his own stubbornness yet). 

“Jesus, that’s fuckin’ horse shit if I’ve heard it,” he sneers, “And I happen to be very intelligent and very charming – and FYI – I also know how a fucking business works and all this “foo-foo,” “high dining”, microgreen shit –” 

She holds up her hand to him and rolls her eyes. She’s surprised she hasn’t been able to see the back of her skull yet. “It’s fine dining, but whatever.” 

“Fuck all the way off. Fine dining, microgreen shit is a dishonor to our roots and I will not stand for it.” 

Natalie’s hand smacks down on a metal rolling table with a rusty toolbox and a wrinkled pad of Post-it notes. The sounds of clanky metal snap everyone’s attention to her. Natalie was never mean. She was always sugary sweet and ooey gooey; trying to be in everyone’s good graces at all times and forever attempting to fix things before they had the potential to be broken. But she could also brush the sugar off and leave a bitter and tongue-curdling hurt if she got pushed to her limit. 

She’s not had a full night’s rest since she got asked (more like begged, but she’s not one for bragging) to be their project manager, she can’t bare to stomach anything nowadays without wrestling the urge to puke it back up, and the fucking pregnancy hormones are filling her with unexplained bouts of rage as of late. 

She is not one to be fucked with and Richie knows that. He just always wants to poke the bear. 

“Well that’s fuckin’ sad that your “roots” are tied to an Italian beef shop, but that doesn’t change my mind whatsoever,” she pushes past him with more force than she intended, guiding you along with her to wherever she had in mind, “You can bitch and moan and holler all you want but you’re not the one losing your fucking mind over fucking paperwork so whatever other unhelpful and extremely negative shit you have to say can get shoved up your ass and you can get fucked because I’m not putting up with it.” 

Richie is rendered speechless – a phenomenon that does not occur very often. 

She turns to you and gives you a friendly smile. Her hand rests softly above yours that are bawled into anxious fists. “Let’s go into the office so we can talk some more. Are you okay with that?” 

You’re still frozen in equal parts shock and fear; too scared to say no. 

“Umm. . .yeah. Yeah, we can go to the back,” you swallow and she brisks you away to what you assume is where all the paperwork is housed that they need help making sense of resides. 

You arrive outside of a closed wooden door and Natalie steps in front of it, her arms coming down to hug the hinges of it in a way that makes you slightly worried. “So I know that you’re not a hospitality attorney and I know that you’re doing this for free and you’re totally at liberty to say you want out the second you say the word,” she speaks softly. 

You know that she’s starting to panic. Your feelings and her feelings are starting to merge into one; two halves of the same whole – people pleasers. 

“But it’s. . .a lot and I don’t know even know where to start and this is legitimately driving me insane so –” 

Her anxiety starts to break your heart. The pang in your chest makes your decision for you. No matter how uncomfortable you are, you know you need to do the right thing out of the kindness of your own heart. 

“No, it’s fine!” you cut her off, “I’ll take a look and we’ll figure it out. Nothing you have here is too much. I can promise you that.” 

Ocean blue irises engulf you with sentiment and appreciation through their gaze. Natalie’s shoulders sag before her hand finds the gold doorknob. A deep breath adds to the noise of chatter and squeaks of the faulty fire alarm in the hallway. The oak door opens with a wheeze and a groan; stuck because of the swell its wood causes from the constant fluctuation of temperatures in Chicago. 

“Well,” she begins, “Here it is.” 

The mountains of cardboard boxes all labeled with acronyms and doodled with nonsense send the pit in your stomach down to your toes and through the center of the Earth. 

Holy fucking shit. 

Natalie notices your shock and starts to go back into “fix-it” mode. She hasn’t eaten at all today, but she figures that the emotions bubbling up and down at a fixed and constant rate are what fill her insides and are making her nauseous. Bile starts to make its way up her throat but she forces it back down. 

She’ll be damned if this goes even more sour than how she knows it has. 

“It’s a lot and it’s more sorting things and making them make sense than doing actual work? Like you’re gonna be doing work but it’s not rocket science. . . Not that being an attorney isn’t hard! My husband is one and I. . .need to shut up now,” she word vomits. Despite the apparent fact that she’s panicking, the sound of her voice is soothing and the gentle hand she places on the junction between the base of your neck and your shoulder does wonders to ground you. “And there’s no rush to have all of it done. It’s a work at your own pace kinda thing?” 

You both know that she’s fibbing about the last part. 

The frantic text at 11 PM last week and the hour-long phone call debriefs you had yesterday and three days before say otherwise. This is her compromising and making her needs smaller. This is her being like you and you being like her; being like each other. Digging yourself into holes to help others no matter the effort – no matter the pain. 

“No, I’m doing this because I want to. Just let me know exactly what you need and we can get to it as soon as possible.” 

You know that you must have said the golden word because as soon as the statement leaves your mouth, Natalie whips out her phone and starts reading off a list she had compiled of all things that have some link to the legal world. 

Contracts. Permits. Tax revenue sheets. Paystubs. Workers Compensation. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. City Ordinances. Chicago royally fucking anyone who dares to open a business, really. 

The sad part is that this should scare you. This should make you want to run out of here and never look back and purposely take the long way to get somewhere if you knew where you were headed would cross paths with the restaurant. 

But you don’t do any of that, and the buzz of finally doing something that you know is helping people overpowers the migraine of stress you can feel looming over you the second you agree to help them out. 

“You’re amazing,” she says, eyes twinkling with admiration. 

Your cheeks turn a shade of baby pink that you hope she can’t see. You’ve never taken well to flattery. 

Richie’s knuckles give a soft knock on the door and it opens before either of you can think to welcome another presence. His gaze finds both of you fist-deep into the first box labeled “Cocksuckers: For IRS - 1987.” You already know that he’s not related to the Berzattos by blood, but the beautiful blue eyes make you question that fact. He gives a sheepish smile almost to apologize for his interruption and you think he’s about to apologize before he opens his mouth and says, “Suge, your dashing baby brother is bout to blow a fuse because the fed is here.” 

Natalie stops what she’s doing. Her hands come to rest on the flimsy cardboard box and she throws her head back to eye the ceiling. If she can count the row of six vertically, maybe she can slow her breathing and calm herself down enough to spare Carmy the chewing out of a lifetime. 

One. 

“Sugar!” 

Two. 

“Get the fuck off me!” 

Three. 

“I said get the fuck off me! I need to see my fuckin’ sister!” 

Four. 

“Sugar!” 

Five. 

“Leave me the fuck alone!” 

Six. 

“Natalie!” 

Her brother appears in front of her disheveled and angry. Even though she’s only five years older than he is, she always sees him as the little baby she used to put in her strollers and push around for years until he got too big and too “grown” to think playing with his older sister was cool. Years spent with him also meant years studying him; knowing his ticks down to the smallest one and learning how he expresses every emotion. 

It was the only way she survived living in that house until she was eighteen. 

Dealing with an angry Carmen is nothing in comparison to dealing with an angry Michael or even attempting to console a slightly agitated mother. 

Besides, Carmy’s anger, while often misguided and very explosive, was never unexpected. He always has a tell and there’s always a few seconds before he completely comes unglued. Adult temper tantrums are shit shows, and quite frankly she’s fed up with having to diffuse one of his every couple of hours as of late. 

Her face starts to fall when she sees Carmen’s left eye begins to create that deep crinkle it does when he gets pissed. He starts to wrinkle his nose and she knows that he’s about to start screaming. 

Richie lets out a whistle before pushing Carmen’s head in a playful yet agitated manner. Before his hand can be swatted at, he jumps out of the way and joins in on a distant conversation about his daughter’s last dance recital. 

He has a smug grin on his face that Carmen wants nothing more than to slap off him. He knew that touching him would provoke him even more.  

Richie always has to poke the bear. 

Always. 

Carmen tries to contain his anger the best he can. Even though he’s totally against the idea of having you in the building, he knows there’s jackshit he can do about it now. Sydney said yes, Natalie sought you out, and Uncle Jimmy thought the idea was brilliant. The vote was three against one and he knows that all he can do is go fuck himself. So much for everyone promising not to make decisions about the restaurant without his okay. 

It’s not like his credit will be the one that’s fucked if this place turns to shit. 

His arm stretches to hold the side of the door’s hinge and supports his body weight as he leans to the right. “You hired a fucking attorney and didn’t tell me?” he snaps. His face pinches in a way that brings his nose, eyes, and mouth closer together; a face their mom used to make before she came totally unglued. 

You have your back turned toward the door he’s looming in. Something about being targeted makes you want to be blind to it; to shut your eyes as tightly as you can and will it away. You know that the way he’s acting has everything to do with him and nothing to do with you, but you can’t help it. When you feel out of place, every action to push you further out feels personal. 

“She’s doing it for free,” Natalie scoffs, putting a lid back on one of the boxes and crossing her arms over her chest. She would offer up more information, but what would be the use if Carmy is as wound up as he is? 

“Free means “fuck.” She’s gonna fuck us, Sugar, and you don’t even fucking care!” he screeches, seemingly uncaring that you’re right in front of him and that he’s biting his sister’s head off as if it’s nothing. 

You start to pull files out of the boxes faster than you were before. The distraction is needed because you know that if you listen too intently to what else is being said, you’ll start internalizing it later. 

Nothing with you. Everything with him. Nothing with you. Everything with him. 

“No. She is not gonna fuck us,” she pushes a finger into his chest and her nostrils flaring, “You’re gonna fuck us because you’re being so stubborn and stupid and can’t have a goddamn conversation like an adult.” 

His chest pushes deeper into his sister’s finger. “You calling me a baby? You calling me a fucking baby?” 

Carmen usually isn’t one to pick a fight in his everyday life, but once he gets started he refuses to back down. The rational part of his brain knows that he’s going overboard but he can’t help himself. The rage inside has nowhere to go and this whole thing is really pissing him off. He’s so fucking sick of everyone acting like he’s too immature and irresponsible to handle things.

Natalie’s finger comes out to become a full palm. “Well then stop the yelling. Stop the pissy pamper attitude. Stop wasting our fucking time and just admit that you’re way over your fucking head and don’t know everything.” 

Carmen balls his hands into fists and licks his lips to prevent him from saying something really fucking mean. He knows that Natalie is just trying to help but she always is, and it fucking sucks when she always saves the day even when he doesn’t want her to. The restaurant was supposed to be theirs; supposed to be all him and Mikey and everyone who made them into the people they are. It was never supposed to be his. It was never supposed to be his when he has not a goddamn clue what he’s doing and Natalie driving herself borderline insane trying to proactively fix everything before it turns to shit. 

He doesn’t know what to say because she’s right. Sugar is always right and Carmen is always wrong and he wishes Michael was here to balance them out; to add a third option so it wasn’t so split. 

But he’s not here. He won’t be here. He never really was here. 

“Fuck!” he yells at the top of his lungs. 

“Fuck!” Natalie shouts back. 

Argument over. 

His shoes slide on the floor with ease and he tries to steady his breathing. His arms let go of the door frame and his head hangs with the dissatisfaction of still housing a boulder of anger. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he whispers, voice growing smaller as he walks away. A loud clash of hollowed metal is heard shortly after. “Fuck!” 

“Punching the lockers doesn’t get rid of the fact you’re a little bitch, Cousin.” 

Richie has to poke the bear. 

Always.

[luveline]

hi love. if you’re taking any requests could i request rockstar!sirius, or sirius in general, like the start of the relationship when everything is cute funny but they're still not a Couple

rockstar!sirius takes you on a date ♡ fem, 1.2k

“If you're here to antagonise me, you can just go home, Sirius,” you warn. 

Sirius Black gives you a dastardly grin, sliding into the seat across from you in a cloud of expensive cologne and hairspray. You're ashamed to say he smells nice, if a little sharp. 

“Hair explosion?” you ask. 

“You're very, very cruel to me, angel. I shouldn't call you that.” The toe of his converse hits yours. He leans forward, covering the pages of your novel with a hand adorned in silver jewellery. “It's no longer accurate.” 

“So mean,” you sigh, imbuing it with as much gutted patheticness as possible.

“Hey, I'm kidding.” He pushed his foot between yours. “How long have you been here? Did you wait long?” 

You close your book, put it flat out of reach, and fix him with a genuine smile. “No, not long.” 

Sirius leans over to kiss your cheek. You'll feel it for the next half an hour, a tingling, crescent moon of contact. “Well, good. Should we go and order? Know what you want?” He shakes his head. “I know what you want. Stay here.” 

He pops up and away as quick as he'd arrived. You panic. Cool and collected you may have seemed, but internally you're a storm of nerves, hands shaking ever so slightly as you take the compact mirror from your pocket and check over your features. You're worried you look like you've tried as hard as you have, all your complicated skincare and makeup, sheer shimmers and invisible concealer.  

Sirius met you without a lick of makeup and he still acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread. You remember it all in vivid detail, the way he'd looked at you, the double-take, the subsequent flirting. Sirius doesn't neg, but it was hard at first to know if he was being real with you. And what, he'd drawled, unblinking, dark lashes and kohl rings emphasised by his stillness, is a thing like you doing in a place like this? 

Thing? you'd asked softly, confused and intimidated by his attention. You'd recognised him immediately. 

Girl, he'd corrected himself. Then, with a strange smile, Angel. You're an angel, huh? Must be.

It wasn't some world-bending line but it didn't need to be, his demeanour did the hard work for him. And his appearance didn't hurt. 

Even now as he walks back towards you, your heart skips a quick beat. He looks more casual than he has the last few times he's seen you, a leather jacket swapped for ragged black denim, and tight pants replaced with jeans that hug his thighs. You can't believe a thing like him would ever be interested in you, but he most assuredly is. 

“Here,” he says, putting a drink down in front of you, and again leaning down to kiss your other cheek. “You look so pretty.” He says it like it’s nothing, doesn't cost him a thing, not a shred of doubt nor bravery. Then he adds, “You're fucking perfect. Can't believe you walk around like this for free.” 

“Stop it,” you say with a laugh, pushing him away. You can't bring yourself to be mean about it. Sirius hasn't ever been mean to you, not once, despite the things people have told you since you met. Be careful with that one. Guys like him want one thing. 

After three dates and two evenings spent watching films together on his ragtag sofa (and enjoying the laziest, softest kisses a girl may ever have been given), you've yet to find out what he wants. To adore you, apparently. 

He runs his pinky down your cheek and under your chin. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

You lift your chin invitingly. 

Sirius laughs into your lips, suddenly kissing you, close and heavy-handed. You rise off of your seat to meet him, only an inch or so but enough to pull a deep sound from the back of his throat. You've never been kissed like this; his hand is steady on your cheek, reluctant to let you go, and he presses down hard with his lips. Nearly too much, never quite there. He rounds it out with a softer one and pulls back to gaze at you fondly. 

“I missed you,” he says, sneaking back in to kiss the slight curve of your laugh line. “Not cool, this whole sleeping at your own flat business.” 

He isn't your boyfriend, yet. Hasn't asked. So he isn't staying at yours nor you at his. But he has to ask soon, right? Who kisses people like that without intentions of some sort of commitment? 

Rockstars, your brain supplies cruelly. Infamous players. 

“Well, where else would I be staying?” you ask as he sits back in his seat. 

“Good question, beautiful.” He ignores it, anyhow. “I've ordered a few too many things. Don't be mad.” 

“I won't be.” You take your purse from your coat. “So long as it doesn't cost more than sixty two pounds and eight p, that is.” 

“Shut up, as if you're paying. You're fucking childish–” 

“You're childish, I'm trying to keep things fair and you won't let me!” 

“Quite right. Look at the state of you,” he says, eyes roving across your face pleasantly, “you think you deserve to pay for dinner? No. I asked you, and I've ordered, and it'll cost a bit more than what you have anyways.” He drops the act just enough to see a sliver of doubt. “Please, let me take care of it. I want to buy you dinner, sweetheart. It's the least I want to do for you.” 

You look at him through your lashes, face angled down at the ebony wooden table. “Yeah, alright. I don't mind.” 

“Good, because you didn't really have a choice. How can I expect you to say yes if I don't pay for dinner first?” 

“Say yes to what?” you ask, frowning gently. He's confused you. 

Sirius offers both hands across the table. You place yours softly in his, letting him brush the pads of his thumbs against your knuckles. 

“To being official,” he says, a hopeful smile playing on his lovely mouth. “What do you think? Is it too soon to ask?” 

You shake your head minutely. 

He drops his head a little, meeting your eyes. “Do you want to be together?” 

“I'll be your girlfriend?” you confirm. 

“Do you want to be?” His lips part but he doesn't add anything more, though he might want to. You understand that vulnerability won't be instantaneous between you both. You can wait. If this is even a hint of the man he is, you want to be together more than anything. 

You nod, forcing your smile into a line that soon wobbles. 

He leans across the table for another kiss. This one chaste. Perfect. 

“Thank you,” he says. When he sits back, he's practically glowing with smugness. “Fuck. I thought that would be harder.” 

“I can make it worse for you if you want to ask me again."

“Would you? Let's take it from the top, angel. I didn't suffer half as much as I should've.” 

[princessmaybank]

Crazy JJ Sex Dream PT2

Pairings: Gentle!Dom!JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Blindfold, teasing, oral (Fem receiving), unprotected p in v, nicknames, creampie, slight Choking, hair pulling, ass slap, etc.

Summary: JJ asks Y/N to tell him about her dream and wants to play a game.

Authors Note: Sorry this took so long, I wanted to make it good for you all!

If you haven't read PT1:

Crazy JJ Sex Dream PT1

"So what's this game, Maybank?" I asked, honestly kinda flustered. This man was so hot and he was on his knees in front of me. Obviously my head was racing with thoughts of everything he could possibly do in that position.

"So you are gonna tell me this dream, but you have to keep your eyes closed for me. At all times. Can you do that for me doll?" He said looking very serious, I only nodded. "Lay on the bed." Obviously I complied. "Alright, here's something to make sure you don't open your eyes. Okay relax and tell me about your dream." He said while he tied a bandana around my eyes.

JJ's POV

Fuck. I'm already hard and she's not even naked yet. I could see that she didn't understand where this was going, but to any dirty minded outsider, it was pretty obvious. "You can start whenever baby, just be very detailed and don't leave anything out. Go very slowly, take your time to think. We aren't in any hurry." I smirked but she had no idea.

"Uhm okay, I'm not sure where to start..this is a little awkward JJ.." I could tell she was nervous. "Don't be scared baby, I am not going to judge you. Pretend like you aren't saying it to me. Pretend you are telling someone else." I rubbed her thigh in a comforting way which made her jump at first. When I didn't remove my hand and began rubbing the inside of her thigh, I noticed that her breath hitched.

"Whenever you're ready." I never stop moving my hand.

"So, we were at the annual back to school bonfire, all the pogues were there and we were all having fun. You and I were dancing and drinking together all night, just enjoying ourselves." She paused to think. "Then it got later into the night and I told you I was cold, so you gave me your jacket to keep me warm." I wasn't wearing a jacket right now, even if I was, it would be a weird thing to start off with. I decided I'd lay next to her with my arms wrapped around her, trying to keep her warm. This clearly fogged her brain for a minute but she started back up with no questions. "Then-" her breath hitched again, I must have some power over her that I never noticed before. "Then what baby?" I asked while caressing her arm. "Then we started to kiss...a lot" I wanted to kiss her, so badly, but I didn't want to pause her story. One little kiss won't hurt. I threw my leg over her hips and hovered her, lowering my face so our lips could meet. She jumped a little but didn't pull away. She enjoyed it as much as I did.

When I pulled away she continued. "You whispered in my ear and asked if I wanted to go back to the chateau with you. When we got back you took me to the guest bedroom and laid me on the bed." She explained. How convenient, we were in the guest bedroom.

"You started to kiss and suck on the sweet spots on my neck." So I did just that. I heard a small whimper escape from her lips. I removed my lips from her neck for a moment "keep going baby, I'm listening." I could tell she also liked that, her hips twitched upwards a little from my comment. "Uhm- at that p-point, you started to take my shorts off." I smirked against her neck. "anything else princess?" I asked, reaching down with one hand unbuttoning and unzipping her pants after reattaching my lips to her sweet spot, sucking until I knew there would be a mark. "Also- m-my pantiesss.." She slurred out. I was making this beautiful girl feel so good.

I did as she said, leaving her bottom half exposed, waiting for my next cue. "You took off my top next, and stood there for a few moments to admire me." She stated, trying to sound more comfortable and confident. Once again I did as she said. Damn this woman was amazing. Breathtaking. Gorgeous. Outstanding. She was just sitting in front of me, exposed and helpless. "Your lips traveled all over my body, you placed small kisses that tickled wherever you wanted to place them." My lips made their way to her pretty titties, placing kisses all over them. I knew she didn't say anything about licking or sucking, but I couldn't control myself. My tongue ran circles around her nipples, tickling, nipping, and sucking when I got the chance. I started kissing down her stomach, heading to the place my lips want to rest most.

"Th-the-then you gave me a heavy and sloppy kiss." Of course I did, why wouldn't I cockblock myself in her dream? My hand found the bulge in my pants and I lightly palmed at myself. I crawled up to give her the kiss that she had described and it caused her to moan. "After that y-you-" She was clamming up. "Tell me baby, no need to be embarrassed, I'm here to make you feel good." I said as I rubbed my hands up and down her hips. "y-you- traveled down and placed your head between my legs." I knew what she meant, but I wanted her to say it, so I sat there, with my head between her legs, staring at her beautiful plump pussy. My hand found my bulge again. She wiggled her hips in my face, you could tell she needed it. I blew on her pussy teasing her even more, she made a sound that clearly said she was annoyed.

"Please Jayj-" She whined. Fuuuck. That turned me on so bad. "Say it pretty girl, what do you need me to do to you?" Her mouth fell open with a moan.

If I would let her take that blindfold off, she would have done it by now. I sat and continued looking back and forth between that beautiful face and her delicate little flower. "You-u ate me out." She sounded slightly embarrassed. She had nothing to worry about. I was going to take good care of her.

I dipped my head between her thighs and began to tease her. I kissed all around but I wouldn't touch any of her sensitive spots. She was going crazy for me, I could tell she just wanted my tongue already.

My tongue met her sensitive bud and flicked back and forth until I felt her back arch. She still had to tell the rest of the story. I was polite enough to remove my mouth from her delicious little pussy so she could continue telling me about her dream. "Tell me more baby, what else was happening?" I asked in a caring tone. This had to be the best day of my life.

"Uh-uhm from what I-I remember, you flipped me into doggystyle-" Before she finished her sentence I wanted to make sure she was ready for me. She was so easy to toss around. Fuck me. I wrapped my arms around her and flipped her onto her hands and knees. She sunk down to her stomach so her ass was in the air. I would be lying if I wasn't thinking about just skipping the rest of this shit to go to town on her, but luckily my horny ass, got what I wanted. "Then you just fucked me the rest of the time." My eyes lit up after she said that. I took my pants and underwear off then lined myself up with her entrance, but something was wrong.

I've been waiting so long for this but I wanted to do it right. "Are you sure you wanna do this Y/N? I don't want to make you do anything you'll regret. I know I should have asked earlier and I'm sor-" "Shut up and fuck me JJ!!!"

Damn that was enough for me. I slipped my dick inside of her, thankfully she was soaked from all this teasing. She whimpered from the sudden pleasure which caused me to tilt my head back and moan. I moved my hips back and forth slightly, causing a little bit of friction but it felt so good. I quickened my pace.

"Fuck you've been such a good girl for me. Telling me all the dirty things you dream of me doing to you. Now you're taking my cock like a good little slut." My hands grabbed onto her ass tightly, it helped me pull her back to meet me with more force. She was feeling good I could tell, she couldn't even respond. My hand left her ass cheek to grab her hair in a makeshift ponytail. I pulled it forcing her to sit up, her back was now against my chest. My other hand found her neck giving it slight pressure. I tilted her head to the side and nipped at her neck. "Who's my good little slut? Who's taking my huge fucking cock?" I ask panting in her ear. "Meee.." She whined out barely above a whisper. "Who's your daddy?" I started fucking her harder. "You are JJ." "Good girl."

I threw her back into doggystyle and continued pounding into her. I gave her ass a good slap which caused a lovely sound to escape her lips. "F-f-fuck JJ I'm almost the-there." "Me too princess, just a little longer."

I flipped her into missionary, I wanted to see the beautiful face she makes when she releases. I reached down and caressed her cheek, after removing her blindfold, never stopping my pace. "Look at me pretty girl. I wanna see those pretty eyes roll back into your head." I was gentle with her now. We had our fun but she means so much to me. I don't want this to be a one time thing, and I want it to be more than this.

"JJ I can't hold it back anymore!" She squirmed and moaned. I plowed into her a few more times to get to my high faster. "Fuck I'm almost there." Just a second longer. "Cum in me JJ.." Oh fuck.

"Okay let go baby.." We both came at the same time. I moved my dick back and forth slowly in her pussy to ease us through our highs.

I slipped my dick out of her and looked at all of my cum leaking out of her, well and her own, but damn, it was hot, I was almost hard again.

I took care of her, I wiped up our mess and got into bed with her. We cuddled for a little while, almost falling asleep. "I loved that dream babygirl, thank you for letting me experience that with you." I kissed her temple. When she didn't respond I looked down and saw that she was sleeping. I held her closer and fell asleep with her. I don't see what was so 'crazy' about that 'sex dream'. Seemed pretty awesome to me.

[ax-y10]

Fluffy

In which- You have an obsession with Wilbur's fluffy hair

A/n: I wasn't meant to be on my phone when I wrote this but y'know. I also found a book I had with a few of these headcanons written in. I know this is short and I'm sorry

Headcanon info: FLUFFY, wilbur being pouty, fluffy hair (bc why not),

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

If you were ever scared or worried to ask if you could touch his hair, he would grab your hand softly and run your hand through his hair

After a shower, he would come out with wet hair and all you could do was stare at it. So one night, he came out with a towel, his hair freshly wet, and let you dry it for him

Would definitely get into haircare or styling his hair to accentuate his curls so when you played with his hair, it bounced

If you ever fell asleep with your hand or hands in his hair and he had to readjust himself, he'd love the little pout on your lips when your hands lost contact with his hair

Would definitely let you brush it, wash it, style it, annoy him with your habits

And a follow up to this, you would get all excited and bouncy if his hair poofed up when you brushed it (my fellow curly haired people, pls relate)

You would subconsciously tug at his hair sometimes when you're distracted and you need stimulation in your hand, and you always get confused when little grunts leave him, always asking if he's alright, and he never mentions your tugs

He would do anything to have your hands in his hair

Sitting down? His head is in your lap

Trying to fall asleep? He's against your torso

Cooking dinner? Good luck doing that one-handed

If he was ever at band rehearsal, on tour, or away for a little bit, he knew you would immediately want your hand in his hair, so he would always drop everything to let you have that experience

"Hey, Sweetheart!" He exclaims as he walks through the door after band rehearsal. "Hello. How did it go?" You said, only wanting to run your hands through his hair. As soon as he had his jacket off, the keys placed down, his guitar against the wall and his shoes off, you were already on the couch with him with your fingers threading through his locks.

His little hums of satisfaction when you play with his hair always warm your heart knowing that it feels good for him

He would either talk to you about his day in great detail or hum a song to comfort you if needed.

He began humming 'Since I Saw Vienna' knowing it made you sleepy, and because it was 2 am and he wanted to sleep. "Darling, I'm going to fall asleep if you continue". "But I want sleep" He pouted. "Okay fine" And you both fell asleep cuddled close together.

You love playing with his hair so much that you made a playlist for when it's late at night and you're running your hand through his hair.

He was just so soft when he found out this fact from Tommy, because the boy is a snitch ;)

And he'd definitely fall asleep and enjoy the feeling of your hands tangled in the bush of his hair.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (8)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n get caught up in their newfound bliss. wc: 3,3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content (this part includes chocking, slight cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampie, and sub Spence), graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: another smut update, enjoy it while it lasts because the plot will unravel soon

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

THE MOMENT HIS LIPS MET HERS WITH URGENCY, she knew there was no turning back. She could feel the taste of desperation and desire in his kiss, a bittersweet cocktail that ignited her senses. His lips moved with a raw intensity, as if desperate to imprint his very essence upon her, to leave an indelible mark upon her being.

Their breaths mingled; fevered and erratic as if trying to merge into one unified rhythm. And her hands, driven by instinct, clung to him with an intensity borne of the same desperation. Fingertips traced the contours of his jawline, mapping the strong curves of his face before they brushed the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her while her hips swayed along his groin.

While her hands threaded into his hair, his hands began roaming toward her waist as they slipped under her shirt. She gasped as his calloused fingers tugged at her nipples, twisting the buds between his thumb and forefinger over the sheer cloth of her bra. Underneath her, she could feel the length of him growing each time she moved. She could feel the sensation building in her body too as she continued to roll her hips, hiding her face in his neck.

The textured gabardine of his slacks rubbed against her in the sweetest way as a shudder rolled up her body. Spencer slid his hands down her waist before placing them on her backside, gently squeezing her ass while pushing and pulling her over him faster.

A breathless whine left her lips as his hardness caught her clit, her inner walls clenching around nothing as she began to grind herself frantically against him. "Shit, I'm close," she whispered against his skin, hands sliding down his body until she could feel his broad chest over his shirt.

Spencer's body tensed in surprise. "Just by this?"

She nodded. Experimentally, he thrust his hips a little harder into her, eliciting a breathless moan out of her. He couldn't stop the amused laughter falling from his lips, marveling at her reaction.

"And here I thought I wasn't good in bed," he commented.

She slightly leaned back to catch the amused glint in his eyes, and when she decided she didn't like his teasing, a newfound desire surged through her veins.

The smirk playing on his lips sent ripples of electricity coursing through her body, igniting a fire within her that demanded to be unleashed. Suddenly, she was no longer content to be the passive recipient of pleasure; she hungered for the taste of control.

So she grabbed onto the back of his head and tugged his hair, a surprised gasp falling from his lips as he saw a new intensity in her eyes.

"Stop gloating," she demanded, and then she devoured him, tasting his mouth all over again. Her kisses became bold and commanding, exploring every inch of his willing body with an intensity that left him breathless. He could sense a shift in the dynamics between them, a change that intrigued and aroused him in equal measure. Her sudden desire to take control awakened a thrilling sense of submission within him.

Then she pulled away and quickly took off her jacket before throwing it away somewhere in the room. Her shirt followed to the floor, and Spencer watched in anticipation as she unhooked her bra before she was left half-naked sitting on his lap. He gently reached out as his fingertips danced along her skin, burning wherever it touched.

He softly placed a kiss on the nape of her neck, his arms moving around her body before pulling her closer. "I think we should move to my bedroom."

"Why?"

His brows furrowed at the question as he leaned back. "Because the condoms are there?"

She gazed into the depths of his eyes, searching for the spark of understanding, the glimmer of reciprocation. Her heart beat in synchrony with the rhythm of her breath, both quickened by the anticipation of what was to come. She finally gathered her courage and broke the silence.

"I want to feel you."

His heart beat in tandem with the rhythm of this silent interlude, its pace quickened by the resonance of her words. "...what?"

"I want to feel you. I-I'm on the pill... and I'm clean," she added. "Are you?"

He slowly nodded, trying to catch any glimpse of doubt in her eyes but was met with none. "Well, yes, but are you sure? I can just go back there and get—"

"Do you not want to?"

A disbelief sound emitted from his chest. "Y/n, I'd be a fool to decline such an offer."

"Then let me feel you."

He pondered for a moment, wondering if this was a wise discussion. But as he studied her face, he couldn’t help but giving in, slowly giving her a deep, aching kiss, completely enthralled by the softness of her lips.

"Alright," he murmured against her mouth. "You'll feel every inch of me."

"Good." She gently got off his lap and undid her pants before sliding them down her legs, her underwear following along while her eyes never looked away from his face. "Now take off all your clothes."

It didn't take long for him to obey her command. She watched as he started unbuckling his belt and—how did he manage to make it look so sensual? His shirt came off after, then his loose slacks were thrown away, then his underwear was next to her pile of clothes on the floor. Then he was stark naked and she found herself irresistibly drawn to the allure of his body.

Her eyes traced the lines of his form with a reverence that borders on worship. From the broad expanse of his shoulders to the defined muscles that rippled beneath his skin, muscles that weren't made from working out, but probably made from his constant work on the field. The touch of her gaze caressed the contours of his soft abdomen before lingering between his legs.

His length laid heavily against his stomach and it took a lot of self-control for her not to drool. He was so thick and heavy, it was a sight that evoked a combination of awe, desire, and a profound appreciation for the beauty that lay before her.

"Y/n?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with an amused smirk. Her eyes immediately raised to his face, realizing she had been ogling without care.

There it was again, his infuriating smirk. As her eyes met him, an urge to wipe away the smug look on his face took over her. It was as if an untamed flame had been ignited within her, urging her to take the lead, to embrace her dominance.

She slowly made her way back to him. Once she threw each leg on either side of his thighs, she wasted no time and took his cock in her hand. She raised her hips as she stroked the tip of him between her slick folds, feeling him catch against her tight entrance as she let out an airy gasp.

A strangled moan escaped his lips. "You're so wet."

She smiled and then slowly lowered herself, and finally—finally—felt his girth stretch her. Her gasp was overthrown by the loud groan that left his lips as he entered her, his forehead falling on her shoulder.

"God, I forgot you feel so good," he growled in her ear.

He couldn't express the sensation with better words, it was as if he was stealing her exact thoughts. Their first night together was somehow a blur to her, but now... The burn of him stretching her felt amazing. She had already felt him inside her before, but she wasn't sure she felt as full as she did now. Her body was taking him so eagerly and with nothing else separating them, he felt so deliciously warm and hard she could practically feel his veins pulsing inside her.

She wanted to savor the moment, so she held onto him and silently sat there on his lap. She clenched her thighs on either side of his hips, trying to keep him still while he was buried deep inside of her, her walls twitching around him. Spencer's large calloused palms stroked along her exposed back and down towards her ass as goosebumps began to appear on her skin. Evidentially bored from the lack of movement, he tried to move her body, which she simply smiled in return.

"Stop doing that," she whispered and relaxed into his touch, nuzzling against his collarbone as she pressed chaste kisses along his chest.

"You're... not moving."

"You have to be patient."

A moan was caught up in his throat as her lips sent shivers all around his body. "You're such a tease."

"And you shouldn't have started being so cocky." She leaned into his ear, fingers running up the span of his chest. "Do you want me to move?" He desperately nodded as a wicked grin formed on her lips. "Then beg for it."

She felt him throbbing inside her, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. His hands hesitantly gripped onto her hips, unsure of himself. "Pl–please."

"Please what?"

"Please, move your hips," he pleaded, his voice taut in his throat, his muscles involuntarily contracting beneath her.

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

She then planted her knees on the cushions on either side of him and started to ride him in earnest, watching in awe as his mouth fell open and he truly wailed out his pleasure. He had never been quiet during their intimate moments, but this was loud, even for him. She was immersed in the symphony of his voice, an intoxicating melody that stirred her own desires and ignited a fire within.

And so she moved at a more rapid pace and another moan escaped his lips, followed by a soft whimper. His voice, unapologetically loud, became a source of empowerment and validation. Every passionate utterance reminded her that she was the catalyst of his pleasure. She found herself intoxicated by the knowledge that she had the power to elicit such a fervent response from him, to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

Spencer's mind was numb, the tiredness he felt earlier seeped away from his body, replaced by a desperate need. It felt so good to be buried so deep inside her as he watched her bounce up and down so effortlessly. She was so warm, so soft... it was too much for him to bear. His eyes drew heavy as he watched, slack-jawed, hypnotized by her hips, helplessly lost in her rhythm as his hips rutted upward gently to meet hers at every fall.

"I can't—" Spencer growled as she suddenly reached up her body to squeeze her breasts while moving on top of him, the sight making him tremble. He watched as she pinched and tugged at her nipples while her hips jolted at a steady rhythm. Her name fell from his lips softly, barely above a whisper.

A coy smile stretched along her mouth. "What's wrong, Spencer?"

"S-stop." He stammered, trying to collect himself as he tried to ignore the throb between his legs. "I won't be able to last long if y-you—"

She grabbed onto his shoulders at his words and quickened her pace. "I'm not slowing down. You're close, aren't you?"

He nodded helplessly.

"Then come for me."

He leaned back and looked into her eyes. "B-But you haven't—"

"I said," she demanded, bouncing along his cock. "Come for me."

He was barely holding on. It wasn't that he didn't want to reach his high, just not like this nor this quick, but it seemed she had other plans for him and she was relishing in the power it gave her. She gently wrapped her fingers around his throat, watching his reaction.

His eyes widened with a mix of surprise and desire as the rhythm of their bodies heightened. She watched as he surrendered willingly to her every whim, his own desire mirrored in his eyes. Then her grip tightened and her touch was no longer gentle and yielding. He marveled at her newfound confidence, her eyes ablaze with a commanding presence that left him both awestruck and surrendered.

Her voice, once soft and submissive, now dripped with confidence and dominance. "I know you want to," she whispered, her lips grazing along his mouth. "Be a good boy and come for me."

He whimpered at her words but she could still feel him hanging onto the last thread of self-control that he had. She gripped his throat tighter and leaned into his ear.

"If you won't come, then I'll make you," she whispered, rolling his earlobe between her teeth gently before she intentionally squeezed her inner walls around him, strangling his cock in a vice grip as she rode him with renewed vigor.

It was enough for him to let go, his teeth latching onto the curve of her neck as he let out a crude hiss, a pleasurable moan coursing through him as he frantically jutted his narrow hips up to meet her brutal thrusts. She finally let go of her grip and cradled his head against her chest while she continued to bounce on his lap. Her legs were starting to ache with the strain, but she hardly felt it over the rush.

Moments after his body seized, his body lurched and shook with every spurt, a hoarse cry forced from his throat with each spasm. She willed her hips to slow to a lazy grind, ignoring the way her body screamed at her for it. But the sensation to reach her own pleasure was consuming her and she began to roll her hips, trying to focus on the sensation of his cock hitting the same spot each time.

Then she gasped, catching her off guard when she felt him thrusting his hips up into her, he was flinching from his release but seemed so desperate to please. "Let me do it, I want to feel you come."

She melted instantly, peppering grateful kisses all over his face. Then he slid in and out of her with ease, his release making it wet and slippery, in the best way.

"Spence," she gasped in surprise as each thrust had his cock dragging against her inner walls perfectly, her mouth open in a constant moan as she bounced on his lap. "Oh, my god. Yes, yes, yes."

Maybe this was why he liked having her on top of him so much. He marveled at the intricate dance of limbs and the exquisite weight of her form against his own. Her presence, so close yet so tenderly apart, sent a rush of sensations cascading through him. From his vantage point, he could admire the grace of her profile, the gentle sweep of her hair cascading over her shoulder, the delicate curve of her neck inviting the soft brush of his lips.

And as his eyes traveled down her body, he could see their bodies intertwining into one. He watched as he moved into her, leaving rings of her slickness and the evidence of his own release around the base of his cock. The crude sound of her slick walls squelching around him rang in his ears, and he continued thrusting his hips against the same spot inside her, focusing his movements as he worked her toward her release.

She could feel the familiar sensation in her stomach and she found herself clutching onto him tighter, her nose scrunching as she felt herself on the cusp of her climax. "Faster, Spence."

His movements became unrelenting, each thrust had him hitting that sweet spot and soon there was nothing she could do but let out a loud cry, her chest heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Fuck," She gasped, her hands reaching over to hold his shoulders, nails leaving red lines in their wake as she felt herself teetering on the edge of her bliss. "I-I'm gonna—"

Then a loud moan ripped from her lungs as she felt her climax surge through her, her body trembling as he continued his harsh pace, hips clapping loud and furious into her. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, swallowing all her pleasant screams as he held onto her. His forceful thrust and sudden control over her had her sob against his mouth, thighs trembling on either side of his thighs. Her eyes rolled behind her closed lids, making a mess over his hips with how much liquid surged from her body.

She squirmed with a whimper when his hand swept over her back with a pleased, low rumble, his nose and parted lips nuzzling over her neck as she eased down her high. Rhythmic, vibrating purrs ran through him and lured her into relaxation as she panted and threw all of her weight on top of him.

Spencer felt her body relaxing and pulled her close as his thoughts suddenly swirled in a whirlwind of emotions. It was not long ago since the day he met her, yet he found himself inexplicably drawn to her, his heart entangled in a web of enchantment.

He questioned the depth of his emotions. How could such intensity blossom from a single night, into another intense night? It was as if the universe conspired to bring them together again, even if only for a fleeting moment. 

And now he couldn't deny the surge of longing that coursed through his veins, the ache to delve deeper into her world. Thus, he found himself asking, "Stay here for the night."

Her breathing seemed to hitch at his words, her mind going into bewilderment. But then her heart softened as she melted further into his arms. 

Was it foolish to yearn for something more, to desire a continuation of the connection they had forged? It probably was, considering the circumstances they had met. But she couldn't help it. It was just one night, right? She could let herself linger on this bliss for one night. Nothing less, nothing more. So she nodded, giving him her answer. 

"Okay." Then she shifted across his lap and winced at the mess sticking between her legs. "I think I need a shower."

"Yeah," he noted. "We should probably wash ourselves."

She pulled away and gazed into his eyes with a small smile. "Was that an invitation?"

He thought for a while, examining every detail of her face. "Maybe."

Y/n wasn't sure how it happened but he somehow managed to stand himself up with her in his embrace. She wrapped her arms clumsily around his neck for support, gasping at his impulse gesture, her feet dangling on either side of him as she squealed.

"At least give me a warning!"

He grinned as he walked over to the bathroom with her clinging to him as if she weighed nothing.

And at that moment, she felt conflicted, not because he was inviting her to wash off their bodies together, but because truthfully, she wanted it as much as he did. It was the way how laughing with him after something so intense seemed surprisingly natural. It was also the way her mind kept on reminding her of what they did, what they were about to do, and what she was currently feeling, and the latter she had no clue of answering.

Whatever. She would think of it later, she was going to have this moment for one night. For now, she was going to scrub away the smell of sex in the proximity of the man she couldn't keep her hands off, pulling him closer as he finally steadied her back to her feet—kissing him once again underneath the warm spray of water.

She would think of the consequences tomorrow.

>> NEXT PART

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[demonsslayersstuff]

The Five Times You Sleep Together (Gojo x Reader)

A/N: Reposting

A/N: This is a Gojo x Reader drabble about the five times you sleep together. Not posted in chronological order. Mentions of sex and kissing but nothing too detailed. It is mostly about just sleeping lol. Enjoy!

Fourth Time:

Grief is what caused the two of you to sleep together, you both needed the comfort of the other, the feel of someone laying next to you, the knowledge that you weren't alone.

Gojo finds you standing in the courtyard, the rubble of destroyed buildings strewn about. You had gone there because you wanted to see the last thing your former friend saw before they had died. In away it was almost closure for yourself, seeing the damage and knowing he didn't survive. While you felt deep sadness, there was also a sense of relief with his passing.

Neither of you speak as the white-haired man comes to stand beside you, the two of you had been friends, truthfully a bit more for over a decade, so words did not need to be spoken. You look at him, noting the fatigue and hollowness in his eyes. While Geto had been your friend, he wasn’t as close to you as he had been to Gojo. He was Gojo’s best friend. You grab his hand and begin to walk away from the chaos of the day. The two of you walking the familiar path to the dormitories of the school.

Soon you enter your room, shoes toed off, heading for the bed. You reach for his jacket, unbuttoning it and slipping it off his shoulders without protest. He does the same for you, jacket removed and tossed into some random corner of the room. You shimmy out of your pants, him doing the same before the two you crawl into bed. You lay your head onto Gojo's chest as an arm wraps around your waist, his other hand threading through your hair.

"Sleep, I'll be here when you wake up, I promise", he whispers. You feel his lips brush against your forehead, your eyes dropping with the steady brush of his fingers in your hair. "Satoru...", you mumble. "I'm sorry, I'll always be here for you", you continue before drifting off to sleep. Gojo holds you a bit tighter that night.

First Time:

Nightmares is what sends you to your friends room at two in the morning. After you'd failed to save someone during you previous mission your nights were plagued with their screams replaying in your mind, you hadn't slept well in over two weeks.

The door opens, Gojo looking down at you with a surprised face after you'd knocked. "Can't sleep", you say walking into his room. Unsurprisingly you find candy wrappers, clothes, and books strewn all over the place. "You want to talk about it?", Gojo asks, motioning you to sit on on his bed. "I can't get her screams out of my head", you tell him after a moment of silence.

He hums for a few seconds before, “Here”, Gojo says moving the blankets to the side, indicating that he wanted you to lay down. “No, no, I can’t sleep here”, you tell him, cheeks flushing. “Why not? This not what you had in mind for our first time together?”, he quips with a cheeky grin that you would have smacked off his face if not for his infinity. “Ok, ok. I promise I’ll be a gentleman. I just think you might be able to sleep better with me here”, Gojo says. You ponder his words for a moment, “No funny business?”, you ask him pointedly. “I promise sweets”, he replies.

You sigh before slipping in the blankets, scooting towards the wall as Satoru follows careful to keep a bit of distance between the two of you. It’s not long before you feel the warmth emitting from his body, making you sleepy, eyes closing. But before you can, the scene that had been haunting you replays in your mind, your breathing quickens. Suddenly you feel Gojo’s body close to yours, his hand on your waist, lips near your ear. “It’s ok, I’m here”, he whispers. “Listen to my breathing, breathe with me”, he tells you. You follow his instructions silently and after a few minutes you find yourself drifting to sleep, breathing relaxed.

Hours later when the sun light peaks through the window, you awaken wrapped protectively in his arms and for the first time in weeks you felt safe and rested.

The Third Time:

You find him sitting in the dark classroom, glasses off, staring out the window. It had been mere hours since his best friend had defected and you were worried.

You approach him delicately, Gojo was not one to talk about his feelings, preferring to suffer alone in silence. “Sato”, you say quietly, entering the room. He doesn’t respond, continuing to look out the window. You slowly move to stand next him, glancing to get a good look at him. His usually sparkling blue eyes were now dull and devoid of his usual happiness. You could see the pain on his face, the fatigue in the way his shoulders slumped in an almost defeated way.

You reach out and grasp his hand in yours, surprised his infinity was off. “Come with me”, you tell him. “I don’t…”, he finally answers, though his words die as his voice cracks. “Don’t argue with me Satoru, I’m not leaving you alone tonight”, you say in the most authoritative voice you have. Gojo’s eyes go wide, but surprisingly he doesn’t argue, instead follows behind you, your hand still gripping his.

A few moments later your pushing him through your door and onto your bed. You watch as he curls up into a ball, dejectedly staring at your wall. You sigh before you crawl into bed. Though you are significantly smaller than him you wrap your body around his, your right arm crossing his chest, leg overlapping his.

You stay like that for a long time, in absolute silence. Your presence was enough to soothe him, to make it known he wasn’t alone in this. Eventually Gojo turns to face you. He just stares into your eyes and you swear you’ve never seen him so broken. You move your hand to softly cup his cheek, your thumb softly brushing it. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I am sorry”, you tell him quietly. You see a few tears slip from his eyes, which you quickly brush away. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, ok”, you continue.

Gojo continues to stare at you for a moment before he suddenly closes the distance between your faces, kissing you. Though you are surprised, you don’t shy away. This probably isn’t the healthiest way to handle this situation, but you let yourself be devoured in the kiss, let his hands grip your waist as you as he moves to hover on top of you, your arms wrapping around his neck, your silent permission to him that this was ok.

One day you’ll find the time to have a real conversation to sort out these feelings, but for now you let him remove your clothes, let him touch you in places you’ve only dreamed about. You let Satoru Gojo make your body his own and he lets you do the same. Hours later when the two you are nestled in each other’s arms, sleep ready to take over, do you hear, “Thank you”, whispered and you know that things will get better.

The Second Time:

“Well this is just peachy”, you say finally breaking the silence between the three of you. You, Gojo, and Nanami had been tasked on an overnight mission in Osaka. Though you’d been promised a triple room the three of you continue to stare at the one single bed and one queen sized bed in uncomfortable silence.

“I guess you and I are bunk mates”, Gojo says looking over at Nanami. You also look over at Nanami, though more so because of concern. While the two boys would work together without complaint during a mission, sleeping together was one thing you knew Nanami was not happy about.

You hear your junior curse under his breath, saw the unpleasant look on his face. You sigh, hoping you would not regret the words you were about to say. “Nanami you take the twin bed”, you say. Both boys whip around in surprise. “Senpai, no”, Nanami begins, but you wave him off. “Don’t worry it about, I’m trying to save your sanity from this psycho”, you tell him, thumbing point to Gojo.

“Hey!”, he responds with feigned hurt. “Still, it’s not fair for you to sleep with him-” Nanami argues, but you interject. “It’s ok, besides this wouldn’t be the first time”, you tell him. Your eyes go wide when you finish speaking, realizing the mistake you had just made. Gojo laughs as Nanami’s face turns the darkest shade of red you’d ever seen.

“I see so it’s like that. Very well. I’m gonna, uhh, I’ll just meet you by the 7/11 in five minutes”, Nanami tumbles over his words before darting out of the room. “No Nanami it’s not like that”, you shout after him, but the blond haired sorcerer is gone. “Nice going sweets”, Gojo says finally says after letting the scene play out. You give him a heated look before heading out to explain what you meant to Nanami.

Hours later, when your mission is completed you come to not regret your words. Not when Gojo is quick to cuddle with you, you’re too tired to complain, though secretly you relish in his touch. Sleep finds you quickly that night wrapped in the arms of the strongest sorcerer.

The Fifth Time:

It’s not long after Geto’s death that Satoru seeks the warmth of your bed again, just as he’d done the first night of his friend’s death. He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t need to, not anymore anyway.

The two of you had been playing a quiet little game of expressing your emotions physically, though neither of you made an effort to speak of them. For the past ten years it had been stolen touches and glances. The occasional “slip up” of kisses and heated moments being shared every now and then.

You didn’t bother trying to be with anyone else. You knew from the age of eighteen, when the two of you had shared that intimate night together, that Satoru Gojo was your soulmate. You were his, he made zero effort to push you away, to find anyone else. There was no point in his mind, you were his, had been for ten years. Though again neither of you had ever spoken about this.

That night you hear your door creak open and close, you feel the familiar weight on the mattress as it dips down. Strong arms wrap your waist, pulling you flush again him. “You awake sweets?”, Gojo asks. You hum in a sleepy response, which quietly changes to a squeal as he flips you over to face him. “Sato-”, you begin but the words die in your throat when you look up into his face. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature on the entire planet.

It’s not long before the two of you find yourself in the familiar frenziness of clothes being ripped off, hands exploring each other’s bodies, lips locking together. The difference is that as the two of you reach your highs an “I love you”, spills from his lips, rocking your heart to its core. “Be mine”, Gojo says later after removing his face from your neck, the weight of what he’d previously said still hanging in the air. You cup his face with your hands. “I was already yours Satoru”, you tell him softly. Your admission brings your favorite crooked smile to his face.

Later after the two of you clean up and sink back into the comfort of each other’s arms you say, “Move the rest of your stuff here”, quietly, testing new waters. “Tomorrow morning”, he replies, sleep heavy in his voice. You nestle deeply into his chest whispering, “I love you too”, before sleep finally overtakes you. After that night, the two of you rarely slept apart, finally embracing your true feelings that started ten years ago.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Dearest Mary,

may I please request something where Hangman and reader [fiancée/wife] have a soft evening in when the reader is exhausted and both are just soft? Maybe she's in the army too, just a different branch?

(now no errors)

Dinner and Domesticity

jake seresin x fem!wife reader 1.5k words

summary: After a hard day at work, you just want to relax in your husbands arms.

a/n: warning, i know nothing about the army, so um. yeah. dont take any of this seriously.  honestly, writing this was therapeutic. god. i love him sm. 

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of the lock again and threw them onto the drawer in the hallway, pushing the door closed with your foot.

"I'm home", you called, stripping off your shoes and your jacket and trying not to flinch at the pain that shot through your head when you straightened again. You'd had a headache for the better part of the day and were desperate to dig through your medicine cupboard for some Ibuprofen.

Jake didn't answer, which was unusual, but there was music coming from the living room, so maybe he just hadn't heard you.

You fought a yawn as you walked through the house, no sight of Jake in the living room (even though "Slow Ride" was playing over stereo) nor in the bathroom (where you went to grab the Ibuprofen). But you spotted him in the kitchen, bobbing his head to the music, something sizzling in a pan in front of him, and had to smile.

"Hey, babe", you said, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm home."

He looked up at once and a grin broke out on his face.

"Hey, baby", he said, letting go of the pan and putting down the wooden spoon to come over to you and pull you into a quick kiss. God, you almost wanted to melt into him when he touched you, so much of the tension in your body vanishing just because he was there, grounding you. "Hard day?"

You hummed, resting your forehead against his chest - he was still wearing his uniform, probably hadn't got home much earlier than you had.

"Yeah. One of those surprise test days."

He groaned in pity and pulled you closer to him. The good thing about both of you being in the navy (aside from the fact that it had been navy festivities where the two of you had met in the first place) was that you both understood just how hard the job could be. There was no having to explain anything, and that made things a lot easier. Even though, of course, you didn't know all the technicalities of planes and Jake didn't know too much about boats, that was something you really valued in your relationship.

"Got 'em good?", he asked. You couldn't help but smile.

"We handed them their asses on a silver plate."

He chuckled. "That's my girl."

For a moment you just enjoyed his embrace, then the obnoxious sound of his alarm rang out and he pulled back to tend to dinner. You missed his warmth the second he let go, but didn't complain. Hell, he was cooking, you'd never complain about coming home to freshly cooked food. So instead you just yawned and sat down at the kitchen table, chin resting in one hand as you watched him.

"Smells good”, you said. “What’re you making?” 

He looked over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised, and you had to bite back a laugh. 

“Pasta, I get it. Always pasta”, you grinned.

The thing with Jake was that he had tried to cook. A ton of times. And the results were always the same - he just wasn’t a good cook. In the slightest. But he’d learnt how to make pasta, which you were both proud of, and so when Jake was standing in the kitchen, he was always making pasta. The surprise each time was the sauce, which you had begged him to change the recipe for once a while so you wouldn’t have to eat pasta with the same sauce for weeks straight. The surprising aspect was usually whether he managed not to burn it. 

Dinner went by comfortably - today he’d done just fine with cooking, not even oversalted. He told you about his day - training - and you told him about yours in more detail, cut short by a yawn at least five times. Jake chuckled every time and you had to smile because of it, and when you wanted to help him clear the table, he took the plate from your hands and told you to get comfortable on the couch. 

It was barely eight in the evening. 

But you knew that you’d probably fall asleep in front of the tv and so you went and changed into your pajamas, which were really just one of Jake’s old shirts and that was it (in your defense, the shirt still smelled like him), and when you stalked back into the living room, he had already turned on the tv and was holding up a blanket for you. 

You grinned as you walked right into his arms and he hugged you close, wrapping the blanket around you. You wriggled your arms free and pulled him in by his jaw, wanting to kiss him but having to laugh as he tried to tug you closer by the waist and failed, only tangling up his hands in the process. 

“Thanks for the blanket”, you said, so close to him that you could feel your own breath hitting his skin. It was almost unbelievable how after all these years of being with him, of being married to him, you still wanted nothing more than to be close to him like a lovesick teenager. 

“Anything for you”, he muttered, grinning at the cheesiness as you laughed and pecked his lips once. Then twice. And a third time, and somehow you ended up with your eyes closed and his tongue nudging yours and smiling like an idiot into the kiss. 

You let your hands wander from his jaw to his hair, grabbing at the strands trying to pull him impossibly closer, messing it up even more. He always went out of the house in the morning with perfectly gelled hair and you’d made it your mission ever since your first kiss never to let him go to bed like that. No different today. 

Only when your knees bumped into the couch you realised that he’d been moving the two of you backwards. You pulled away, just a bit breathless, and looked at him. He was grinning that signature grin of his, the one you’d fallen in love with the first time you’d seen him, and you went so weak in the knees that you almost collapsed onto the couch behind you.

“Hi”, you whispered, unable to keep from smiling yourself. 

“Hey”, he chuckled. 

“Missed you today.” 

“Really? You didn’t see me for half a day and already missed me?” 

He was teasing, of course, so you pouted and untangled your hands from his hair to hit his chest. 

“Shut up.” 

He chased your lips for another kiss, a sweet one this time, and - though you really wanted to pretend to be mad at him - you could only give in to him and cross your arms behind his neck. He was radiating warmth, even through the blanket. 

“Never”, he grinned, and pressed a soft kiss to your nose. “Missed you too.” 

He let go of you and you had half a mind not to sigh in disappointment, choosing instead to flop down onto the couch and hug the blanket close as he went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. When he came back to hand it to you, you were already pressing play on the tv remote, putting it next to you to take a sip of your water. The couch dipped as Jake sat down and made himself comfortable, an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You rested your cheek against his chest and sneaked one leg over his knee, squeezing it in between his. 

“James Bond again, really?”, he groaned. You punched him softly in the ribs. 

“Best movies ever made.” 

“You’ve watched them all at least ten times. This month.”

“Yeah, because they’re cinematic masterpieces.” 

Your sentence was cut in half by a yawn, but you didn’t let your argument be disrupted by it. 

“You’ll fall asleep halfway through anyway.” 

“So? Then you get to watch it all by yourself.” 

He hid his face in your hair and mumbled something unintelligible. You turned to look at him - trying hard to ignore the doe-eyed expression he’d put on - and raised your eyebrows. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” He gave you a quick kiss. “Love you.”

You had to smile despite yourself. Jake hadn’t disliked the movies the first time you’d made him watch them - actually he’d been really into them. But then you’d called Pierce Brosnan attractive and now he wouldn’t watch without complaining anymore. 

“Mhm, that’s probably for the best. Love you too.” 

You turned back to the tv and cuddled up to him, one of his arms tightening around your shoulder and one of his hands resting on your thigh, brushing up and down so soothingly that soon you were yawning again, your eyes closing by themselves as you pushed up against him and snuggled as best as you could into him, your blanket up to your chin and your head resting against his chest. 

He was proven right after barely fifteen minutes. 

You had fallen asleep almost instantly, though you would later argue that this was his fault, if anything, because his presence was so relaxing and so comforting that you just didn’t have a choice, and you were starting to softly snore five minutes after that. 

You didn’t hear Jake chuckle, but you did feel him carefully get up (which you complained about in your half-awake state) and then pick you up into his arms, the blanket falling down onto the couch as he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom. 

You also felt the mattress dip when he lowered you onto it, the pillow under your head, and the next morning you would vaguely remember clutching his arm, not allowing him to pull back, mumbling: “Stay, please, Jake, don’t leave me alone.” 

“Just have to turn off the lights and the tv, honey”, he said quietly, kissing your forehead, waiting for you to let go of his arm even though he could have easily pulled back just like that. 

“Mhm, ‘kay”, you muttered, already drifting off to sleep again. “But come back quick.” 

[comfort-character-central]

Here's a post f/o tips on ways to help you reconnect with your f/o, I posted about this briefly then deleted it, but I'm posting this again and adding details as it may help people with it! These help me but obviously everyone is different so what may help me, may be different for you.

-Watch content of them old or new, sometimes the comfort of seeing them can help you feel more connected to them. Whether it's something like a comfort video you can watch without getting sick of it, or discovering more content, it can remind you of all of the things you appreciate about them.

-Do things that remind you of your f/o irl. Maybe you have a jacket that you can say is theirs, a comfort item that they gave you, or something that makes you feel closer to them. Even merch can serve as a way to remind you that they care.

-Remind yourself that canon doesnt matter, the bond is yours and yours alone. The bond that you & your f/o have can be as close as you want, it doesn't matter what canon includes because it matters that you feel connected to your f/o, and your relationship with them is personal. Reminding yourself that they do care, love you, and support you can help you feel a lot better about it.

-Create or consume content with your f/o. Looking up things like fanfic, fanart, etc can help you feel closer to them, and creating content can also help you with that because you can make the details of the thing you're drawing/writing/etc to express the connection you share with them. If you want any tags recommendations, I personally enjoy ones such as: f/o comfort, f/o positivity. These tags provide reminders for feeling better and uplifting, as well as comfort when you feel down, upset, or even need reassurance and appreciation.

I hope these help someone! Thanks for reading.

[reader-wandering18]

Darkness (Part 1)

First of all, this is not a story as such. These are just parts of the Solo Leveling Manhwa story x A character from the LOTM world. For those who don't know The Lord of Mysteries is a horror, fantasy and mystery novel that has more than 1400 chapters.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

If you have time or nothing to do, give it a look.

To be honest, this is just a fanfic so I won't go into detail to explain the entire universe of the Lord of Mysteries (just necessary) since this is simply intended to entertain as well as get this idea out of my head. (possibly also has spoilers

For so long I'm thinking about doing this so it will have several parts (maybe 5 yet, I don't know) but keep in mind that I will be skipping most of the Solo Leveling story.

This story also begins two days before the events of the orcs at Jinwo's sister's school (Jin-Ah)

Enjoy it 💋

(English is not my original language)

Jinwo didn't know where you came from.

You were strangely quiet, so much so that not even S-rank hunters noticed your presence. Only Jinwo, though most of the time it was like you did it with the intention of being seen only by him.

You were also fucking strong and a complete mystery.

He remembers the day you both met for the first time. While he was clearing a high-class dungeon, you appeared in a corner as if nothing

Of course this surprised him when he saw you and that he hadn't sensed your presence.

The system couldn't tag you.

His army immediately came out of his shadow and surrounded you, but the strange thing was that all the shadows seemed anxious like... scared, though Beru behaved like a rabid dog, much more than what Jinwo saw when he faced Cha. Hae In.

Despite all that hostility, you were calm, as if simply the echo of being surrounded by numerous dead shadows wasn't something you should worry about.

You were extremely tall, you seemed to be about 177 cm, your clothes were from the modern era, a black collared shirt, tight jeans, black boots, like a leather jacket.

Your black hair was loose, which showed its long (it reached the height of your knee) your skin was white like the moon but your eyes... Your eyes were what made him nervous.

He hadn't trembled like this since he was an E rank

You had a pair of deep black eyes without any emotions.

Jinwo thought he was seeing the emptiness of the universe.

— I'm not here to hurt you.

Once your voice rang out throughout the dungeons, Jinwo strangely felt calm, your voice was a lullaby that lulled his entire body.

Both daggers he held so tightly began to weaken.

— My lord!

Beru's scream brought him back to reality and he held both daggers again with such force that you could hear the pressure of the leather.

¿Qué habías hecho?

He had no answer for that question at that moment

—No está mal — comentaste al ver la fuerza de voluntad de ese niño.

En ese momento Beru no perdió el tiempo y se abalanzó sobre ti y... todo se oscureció.

When Jinwo woke up, notice he was in the hospital

What had happened?

He tried to remember but something prevented him. Even his shadows were affected by what seemed to be amnesia.

— Son, Jinwo — next to him came his mother with a worried look.

Jinwo asked him how he had gotten to the hospital. His mother told her that he had been completely exhausted after encountering a dungeon boss and had fainted shortly after finishing it.

The dungeon was about to close but a kind foreign lady had gotten him out in time.

Hearing that, Jinwo's face was simply unreadable.

He never got tired in a boss fight. Less so in a B-class dungeon.

He immediately stood up and asked his mother where she had found the woman who had brought him.

Seeing Jinwo's rush to find out about your whereabouts, his mother thought he wanted to go thank her for helping him. In fact, she wanted to do that too since the girl left with a couple of men in suits.

He remembered that person with a slicked back hairstyle, orange hair, and dark glasses.

—She's in the hunter association.