#LED glow tables

[rentrightforall]

Cocktail Table Rentals in the USA: Elevating Your Event with Style and Functionality

Introduction

Planning an event, whether a wedding, corporate gathering, or social celebration, involves many decisions. One of the crucial aspects that often sets the tone for the event's ambiance is furniture selection. Among the various furniture options, cocktail tables have gained immense popularity due to their versatility and ability to enhance the overall aesthetic of an event. To elevate your event with style and functionality, cocktail table rentals in the USA offer a practical solution. In this article, we'll explore cocktail table rentals, their benefits, design variations, and tips for choosing the right rental company.

The Benefits of Cocktail Table Rentals

Cocktail tables, also known as highboy tables, pose many benefits, making them an attractive choice for event planners. Their tall design and narrow surface area foster a social atmosphere, encouraging mingling and conversation among guests. These tables are particularly suitable for cocktail hours, networking events, and occasions where creating an interactive environment is essential.

Additionally, cocktail table rentals allow exploring various styles and designs that align with your event's theme. From modern and sleek to rustic and vintage, these tables come in diverse materials, shapes, and colors, ensuring you can find the perfect match for your event's aesthetic.

Design Variations and Styles

When considering cocktail table rentals, exploring the diverse range of design variations available is essential. The cocktail table design can significantly impact your event's overall vibe. Here are some popular design variations:

Classic Round Tables

Classic round cocktail tables are timeless and versatile. They can seamlessly fit into various event themes and offer a uniform seating arrangement for guests.

LED Glow Tables

LED glow cocktail tables are an excellent choice for a futuristic and vibrant ambiance. These tables can change colors and patterns, adding an extra layer of excitement to your event.

Barrel Tables

Barrel cocktail tables bring a touch of rustic charm to your event. Their wooden design and barrel-like structure create a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

High-Gloss Contemporary Tables

If your event boasts a modern and sophisticated theme, high-gloss contemporary cocktail tables can complement the aesthetic. Their sleek surfaces and clean lines add elegance to any occasion.

Choosing the Right Rental Company

Selecting the right rental company ensures a seamless experience with cocktail table rentals. Here are some factors to consider:

Reputation and Reviews

Research the rental company's reputation and read reviews from past clients. This provides insights into the company's reliability, service quality, and customer satisfaction.

Table Quality and Maintenance

Inquire about the quality of the tables available for rent. Quality tables enhance the overall look of your event and offer stability and durability. Additionally, ask about the company's maintenance procedures to ensure the tables arrive pristine.

Customization Options

A reputable rental company should offer customization options for your event's needs. This could include tablecloth colors, table heights, and other design elements.

Delivery and Setup

Efficient delivery and setup are crucial to the success of your event. Confirm that the rental company offers timely delivery, design, and pickup services to avoid last-minute hiccups.

Personal Experience and Recommendations

Having organized numerous events, I understand the importance of selecting the right furniture to create an inviting atmosphere. One of my most memorable experiences was planning a charity gala that required a blend of elegance and comfort. Cocktail table rentals provided functional surfaces for guests and added sophistication to the event space. We opted for LED glow tables, which allowed us to alter the colors based on the event's theme, creating a dynamic ambiance that left a lasting impression on attendees.

Conclusion

Cocktail table rentals in the USA offer a fantastic way to elevate your event's aesthetic and functionality. From classic round tables to LED glow variations, these tables come in various designs to suit your event's theme. By carefully selecting a reputable rental company, you can ensure a seamless experience that enhances your event's ambiance. Based on personal experience and industry expertise, cocktail table rentals have proven invaluable in event planning, making gatherings more engaging and memorable. So, whether you're hosting a wedding reception or a corporate soirée, consider the benefits of cocktail table rentals to add a touch of style and elegance to your event.

[neo-nomatrix]

Sunshine and Midnight Rain

Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader

word count: 851

summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story

a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING

Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.

You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.

“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.

“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.

“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?

“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.

“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.

“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.

“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”

——————

“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.

You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.

“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.

“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.

“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.

You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.

“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.

“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.

“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.

“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.

“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.

“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.

“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.

“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.

“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.

“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.

“He was always my favorite,” he adds.

“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.

“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.

Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.

“You’re staring, again” You mention.

“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.

You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.

“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.

“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”

——————

It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.

As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.

“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.

“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.

You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”

“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks

“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.

“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.

“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”

And maybe, just maybe, he could.

[kitten4sannie]

middle of the night

pairing: boyfriend! san x fem! reader

genre: pure smut

summary: these days, san can never seem to get a good night’s rest, that is, until he’s able to completely unload himself inside his pretty little girlfriend. good thing you‘re laying right next to him.

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: mean dom! san, subby painslut! reader, both of these mfs are nymphos, somno that turns into full blown sex (they have an established agreement and there is strict consent involved), san’s got a big curved cock as per usual, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, manhandling, tit play, spit, finger sucking, pussy slapping, marking, possessiveness, spanking, vaginal/anal sex also known as the two for one special <3 (psa: never switch from ass to pussy irl btw), rough altered missionary/doggy/back to missionary, san puts reader in a headlock (muahahahah), creampies, squirting, breeding kink, bulge kink, dumbification, brief oral, san eats his own cum out of reader, this is really filthy btw i should be locked up :3c

a/n: i literally can’t stop writing bc of the horneee that is constantly brought upon me against my will 😞 it’s all san’s fault </3 also i realized i’ve only written one fic about somno like two thousand years ago even tho it’s in my top ten kinks so i gotta fix that <3 *screams* i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed coming up with it~

song recs: angel by massive attack - beware by deftones (GRRRRRRRR BARK BARK)

San couldn’t seem to stop tossing and turning in bed, forcing his eyes shut and waiting for one side of his pillow to grow far too hot for comfort, before letting out a frustrated groan and rolling onto his other side, his cheek squished against the feathered pillow. Squinting at the glowing analog clock on the bedside table across from him, San blinked a few times, his eyes getting used to the darkness inside the room. It was already nearing dawn and he still hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. There had to be some kind of solution.

It was then that you shifted besides him, emitting a soft moan and rolling onto your back, your loose tank top lowered just enough so that one of your tits had popped out of it, creating another obstacle for San to overcome, one that wouldn’t let him fall asleep until he confronted it.

“Fuck,” San whispered to himself, pushing the covers down far enough to confirm his growing problem. With half-closed, tired eyes, your boyfriend watched his cock repeatedly throb upwards against his loose black sweatpants, as if it was begging him to do something, and quick.

Hs thought back to a conversation you had earlier that week, one you brought up after he had just got done fucking you all over the house in every position imaginable. Like many of your sex marathons, it was initiated because of something simple — you being bent over the washing machine to fill it up with a load of detergent, which, of course, led to San filling you up with his own load in every possible area of your house, including the back patio when you tried to water your poor succulents.

“Sannie, you might as well fuck me when I’m asleep too, at this point,” you giggled, running your fingers through San’s soaked hair, admiring the way he looked in between your legs, with his mouth and tongue exploring your leaking, cum-filled cunt.

“You mean that, angel? My dumb slut wants me to fuck her even dumber in her sleep?” he asked in between licks, humming softly as he continued to languidly clean you up after the destruction he caused to your used hole. It was his favorite pastime, besides rearranging your insides and painting them white with his seed, of course.

Moaning at his mean words, you tugged on his hair, rubbing your soaked pussy in his face like you always did. “Yes, I mean it, baby. Now, shut up and clean up your mess.”

Before San knew it, he was hovering over you, your thighs wide open and resting against his own, your loose, nonexistent sleep shorts tossed to the side so that he could eagerly rub his slick cock along your plush folds, his thick, calloused fingers exploring every inch of your heated skin, groping at your soft thighs, your hips and waist, eventually getting distracted by your tits, rolling your tank top up over them until they spilled out into his greedy hands. He squeezed and rolled them around, bringing his drooling mouth down to your chest to drag his hot tongue up and over your tits until they shined with his spit, pinching your puffy nipples in between his teeth until you whined out in your sleep, feeling your arousal leak out onto his pulsing cock when he finally pushed inside.

“Mmn, my angel is such a good little cocksleeve, so fucking wet for me even in her sleep,” San sighed lovingly to himself, sucking one of your tits into his mouth, spitting on it for good measure, before exchanging it for the other, moaning around your soft flesh, his eyes never leaving your pretty flushed face, even though you weren’t even awake to look down at him.

Unable to hold himself back, he began to buck his hips wildly into you like he always ended up doing when your tight, warm cunt sucked him in the way it did, the headboard beginning to bang loudly against the wall behind it. Grunting, San licked up from your spit-laced chest to your neck, sucking and biting into it, leaving his mark on you. “My baby, my sweet girl, you’re mine, all mine, even when you’re dreaming,” he whispered against your slick skin, slowly pulling back when he heard the breathy gasps you were letting out turn into full-blown moans.

“S-sannieee, I’m so full,” you voiced in a sleepy tone, reaching up to rub your tired eyes, studying your boyfriend’s rosy cheeks and lips, the way his drenched hair stuck to his forehead, a few drops of sweat landing on your face, unable to look away from his intensely dark, lust-filled gaze. “Is my pussy making Sannie go crazy?”

A low growl erupted from San’s throat, a vein starting to grow taut against his skin, now that he was pounding into you with abandon, reaching up underneath your thighs to forcibly fold you in half like you were nothing but a doll for him to use. “Your slutty cunt always drives me crazy, princess, so be good and take responsibility, hm?”

Barely able to breath now that you were akin to origami, your brain grew delightfully fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, encouraging the hazy, half-asleep state you were still in and the oversized cock that was being driven relentlessly into your cervix to work in tandem until pleasure overtook your body to the point of orgasm. “Fuck, Sannie, baby, fffuuck, I’m cumming…!”

“Oh, my dirty girl, creaming yourself so soon?” San mused with his lips quirked into a shit-eating grin, his dimples and canine teeth on display. Just as your eyes begin to disappear underneath your fluttering eyelids, San suddenly grabbed you by the chin, reaching down in between your sweaty bodies to smack his hand down roughly against your spasming cunt. “Look at me when you’re squirting on my cock, baby. You know better.”

“S-sannie, it’s so, oh my god–” you cried out, opening your mouth to moan and instead feeling his thumb slide over your tongue, your lips closing around it. You continued to suck on his thumb as he fucked you through your first mind melting orgasm of the night, biting into it when he smacked your cunt again with his free hand.

“Owww, bad girl.” San watched you lick and suck on his thumb with a lecherous smile plastered on his red, sweaty face, rubbing his other thumb roughly into your puffy clit, rolling it in circles until he felt your thighs trembling nonstop against his moving body, suddenly stopping his movements to sheath himself fully inside you, groaning heavily as he flooded your pulsing cunt with his hot load. “Mm, you feel that, princess? I’m pumping all my cum into this slutty womb of yours, so I can get you nice and knocked up for me…You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Just as he pulled his thumb out of your drooling mouth, you clasped your hands onto his cheeks, looking up at him hearts in your teary eyes, and begging, “Yes, Sannie, I like it, love it so much. Can I have more?”

And there it was. You might’ve been the love of his life and his beautiful angel of a girlfriend, but you were still his personal breeding bitch at the end of the day — and in the middle of this hazy, sleepless night.

“Oh, yeah?” San hummed, slowly pulling out of you and running his fingers through his wet hair, just for it to fall back into his half-lidded eyes, watching as his cum began to flood out of your gaped, fluttering hole. He wanted nothing more than to eat it out of you, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting the warm saltiness mixed with your sweet squirt on his lips, but he still had to pursue his mission of pleasing his baby. “My little slut still hasn’t had enough?”

“No, Sannieee, I need your cock in my other breeding hole. Please?” you whined softly, pouting up at him, hoping you’d get your way now that you were fired up and desperate for him to fill and own as many of your holes as he could before the both of you fell victim to drowsiness.

San closed his eyes to ground himself for a second, not even fully prepared for the filth that you exuded, despite being quite the pervert himself. When he opened his eyes back up, he looked down, his curved cock now painfully stiff and twitching upwards into his heaving abdomen, somewhat winded from how hard he had been fucking you just a moment ago. “Head down, ass up, little slut. Don’t make me ask twice.”

And just like that, you were lying with your head pressed into bed, drooling heavily from both ends, getting saliva onto the arousal stained mattress, your sopping wet cunt pushing out all of San’s load and causing it to drip down your inner thighs, your weak, bruised knees wobbling beneath you, your ass being relentlessly pounded into by your ravenous boyfriend. “Gonna cum, gonna cum–”

Your warning was cut off by a sharp gasp, just as San’s hand collided with the side of your reddened ass, his fingers grabbing into the soft, sensitive flesh until you whimpered pathetically. “You’re such a filthy slut, aren’t you?” he growled between gritted teeth, smacking the other side of your ass and making you cry out before you could answer him properly. He suddenly pulled out of your ass and forced himself back into your cunt, stuffing you completely full, hunching over you so that he could put you in a headlock, loose enough so that you remained conscious, but tight enough so that you could feel deliciously dizzy. “You’re my filthy slut. All mine to fuck raw, to ruin, to breed. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered hoarsely, opening your mouth up to accept his tongue inside when he closed in on you, feeling breathless once he manipulated your body until you were back underneath him, your legs near your head, his cock so deep inside your cunt that the tip of it created a prominent bulge inside your stomach, one that San was already palming as he began to shudder, his lips, teeth and tongue attacking your neck again to leave more marks, darker ones that you would have to put concealer over before you went to work the following morning. “That’s it, that’s it, cum inside me, San, please, make me yours!”

“You’ve been mine since the beginning, angel, but I’ll make you mine again, and again, and again,” San exhaled onto your lips, wrapping his arms protectively around you, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his tip just about kissing the entrance of your cervix, your bodies so entangled together, neither of you knew where the other began. You gazed into each other’s hazy eyes, moaning into each other’s open mouths, as another seemingly endless flood of thick, hot cum claimed your womb. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

“I love you too, San,” you sighed back, caressing his heated face, your fingers slipping into his hair just as he began to lower himself down, shuddering at the sensation of his lips and teeth making their mark on your chest, abdomen, hips, then gasping when he made his way to your center, his hot tongue slipping inside your pulsing cunt.

Like every time before, San ate his warm load out of you like a starved man, his nose nudging your sensitive clit as he moved his head in an up and down motion, coaxing more of the saltiness onto his tongue, reaching up to rapidly rub your clit just because he could, pleased with the way you began to cry and shake, your warm squirt pouring down his throat. He swallowed it all down with a low, pleased groan, dragging his tongue up and over your used, puffy cunt to collect the last few drops of nectar, before he finally felt tired enough to collapse down onto the bed next to you.

With the last ounce of his strength, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to your lips, letting you taste your combined essence. “Bedtime?” San whispered, cradling and rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, looking at you with a fondness that bordered obsession. He chuckled softly, giving you a dimpled smile. “I promise I won’t wake you up again.”

“You won’t wake me up, but you still might fuck me in my sleep? Huh, nympho?” you teased jokingly, cradling his face back, so close that you breathed in the same air, your eyes never leaving his, despite how heavy your eyelids began to feel. “I need my sleep, you know.”

San was in a similar state, starting to drift off, his hands leaving your face so that he could wrap them protectively around you. “Sorry, baby. I’ll try to be quieter next time,” he murmured, letting out a soft giggle, pressing a kiss to your lips just as his eyes began to close. “Just don’t be mad at me when you wake up with my cock still inside you…”

Leaving a kiss on his nose, your eyes started to close as well, completely relaxing into your boyfriend’s warm embrace. “I’ll be mad if it’s not still inside me.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[talesofesther]

and still, you have me

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After everyone has left his side, you go find him.

A/N: A little something to heal our hearts from the finale. Here's a shameless plug of my ongoing series with Aemond, which has similar vibes to this story. <3

Masterlist

The night was late and quiet, tension high in the Keep as war loomed on the horizon. You'd been walking the lone hallways of the castle for a while now, smiling at each member of the king's guard who bowed their head at you.

You'd decided to leave your shared room with Aemond when the night stretched on and he was yet to show up. Having heard of his disagreement with his mother and sister earlier, you had a hunch he was keeping his distance, denying himself respite as he sometimes did.

However, it took you only a short while to find him. At times you thought he did it on purpose, that he wanted to be found, by the people who cared enough to look.

You pushed open the doors of the council chamber, which was now empty. The long table and stone walls softly highlighted by the golden glow of torches and candles. At the far end of the room, the doors that led to the balcony were open, and there, you found your Prince.

Leaning on the balustrade, Aemond overlooked the immensity of King's Landing under the clear night sky, his long silver hair softly moving with the wind.

You walked closer to him, quiet and careful, taking notice of his tense shoulders and head hanging low. If you had to guess, you'd say his talk with Helaena hadn't gone well.

Aemond straightened his back when he heard you approaching, you could almost feel part of his guard coming up again. Despite the way most people feared him, there was something delicate about him, you knew well. Under so many defenses, he protected a fragile heart.

The Prince took a deep breath in, he still refused to turn around and look at you. "Will you leave my side too, ñuha prūmia?" There was a crack in his voice as he spoke the last of his words.

"Only death could make me do such a thing, my love." You promised in the same breath.

Aemond turned around then, taking the remaining step that still separated the two of you. His eye shone bright under the moonlight, as did the dried tear tracks on his cheeks. He tried hard to keep his face impassive as he raised a hand to touch you but pulled away before he did so.

The turmoil was evident in how he softly furrowed his brows as if his thundering heart caused him pain, in how his lower lip wobbled, and how his eye quickly filled with new tears as he looked at the last person who stood by him. There was fear, guilt, and sorrow as he turned into the lonely young boy he once was before your eyes again.

"And what if-" Aemond stumbled in his words. He gulped, breathing through his nose, "What if the Stranger takes me before he does you? What then?" His voice was low and quiet, as if couldn't bring himself to utter the question any louder.

"Then I shall live the rest of my days in black, mourning the loss of the one I love," you spoke just as softly, gently taking one of Aemond's hands in yours. And he shuddered, you couldn't know if it was because of your touch or because of your words. "Yet glad that I got to share my time with you."

Aemond's lips parted, and the tear in his eye hung by his lashes when he blinked. There were suddenly no walls, he could crumble before you, just like that. His hand gripped yours tighter, and before his tear rolled down his cheek, he closed his eye, leaning forward so his forehead rested on yours. "Nyke ȳdra daor gūrogon ao."

You kissed the words, almost as an act of rebellion, your lips finding the edge of his with lingering affection. "Yn emā nyke mirre keskydoso." Devotion and love dripped from each syllable.

A low hum came from Aemond, and he followed after you once you pulled away, chasing your warmth.

"I will go with you," You spoke with ease, catching his gaze so he saw the sincerity in your eyes.

He kept quiet, with shallow and shaky breaths falling past his lips as he simply looked at you. Yet his hand held yours tight, refusing to let go.

"To Harrenhal. I will fly with you." You brought your free hand up, thumb brushing over Aemond's cheek and drying away the single tear that had fallen.

He closed his eye at your touch, and allowed himself to fall, for you were there to catch him. Aemond leaned his head on your shoulder, both arms coming to circle your waist and pull you against his body.

You held him back, squeezing him to you as your fingers buried in his hair. You could feel his tears dampening the fabric of your dress, could feel his nails digging into it with desperation as if you'd vanish if he didn't hold tight enough.

Aemond had refrained from asking you, because of how close you'd been with Rhaenyra once. Perhaps he lacked the courage to ask you to choose sides and risk losing you. Yet now, as you held his broken pieces together under the stars, he realized you'd chosen his side long ago.

If it would be you and him against the world, then so be it.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

High Valyrian translations: ñuha prūmia = my heart nyke ȳdra daor gūrogon ao = I don't deserve you yn emā nyke mirre keskydoso = but you have me all the same

Aemond's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[connorsui]

Bound by Diamonds - Sylus x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, established relationship between the both of you, teasing, sweet kiss, darry ring (a literal soulmate ring), no warnings …unless you want to say no to his proposal..

Synopsis: Sylus carefully plans the perfect moment to present you with a lifelong promise.

Note: the most expensive darry ring is well over 150 grand in U.S currency …that is the equivalent of $5 dollars in Sylus money

w.c: 2,119

VIP: @zanyssins (I thought u might like this ...)

The night felt like something out of a dream, the kind you didn’t want to wake up from. The streets were alive with the hum of the city, the faint glow of the streetlights illuminating the sidewalk as Sylus guided you toward the restaurant. His hand was warm, steady, wrapped around yours with a casual but firm grip that spoke of his protectiveness—a gesture you had come to know well over the years.

Sylus, as always, had made sure every detail was perfect. The air held a cool crispness, carrying with it the subtle scent of rain that had fallen earlier in the evening. His steps were confident, exuding the quiet authority that made heads turn as you walked into the grand entrance of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the way people shifted in their seats, straightening as he passed, their gazes following him with a mixture of respect and curiosity. There was no denying Sylus held power, not just in your life, but in the world beyond it. He had a presence that commanded attention, but with you, it was softer, more intimate.

The host greeted you with an almost reverential nod, leading the two of you through the dimly lit space. The restaurant itself was an oasis of luxury—high ceilings adorned with chandeliers that sparkled like clusters of stars, and soft music playing in the background, barely audible but creating a calm ambiance. Sylus had arranged for a private room, of course. He always did when it came to moments like these. Privacy was something he valued when it came to you.

As the waiter opened the door to your secluded table, your breath caught in your throat. The room was stunning—glass walls on three sides that offered a panoramic view of the city below. The lights from the skyscrapers stretched out endlessly, flickering like tiny diamonds in the distance. You could see the entire skyline, the towering structures glittering against the inky black sky. It was the kind of view that made you feel like you were floating above the world, a private escape far away from the chaos below.

Sylus gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he led you to the table. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, that signature teasing note dancing in his words.

You turned to him, catching the way the city’s lights reflected in his eyes—those mesmerizing crimson eyes that never failed to draw you in. They burned with intensity, as if every emotion he felt for you was captured in their depths. You smiled softly, feeling your heart flutter as you nodded. “It’s far greater than beauty… it’s stunning.”

Sylus’s gaze never left you, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned closer, his voice soft and intimate. “And yet, as stunning as this view is, it pales in comparison to the radiance you bring into my life. To me, you are the true masterpiece—more breathtaking than any cityscape, more precious than anything im bound to give you”

He countered smoothly, pulling out your chair with the kind of grace and charm that was so uniquely Sylus. “Tonight, let me show you just how much you mean to me,” he said, his eyes holding yours with a deep, earnest gaze. “Because you deserve to know that, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, you are the center of my universe.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Please, if you keep talking like that you might as well make me believe in total perfection ” you teased, lowering yourself into the plush seat. The cushions were soft, molding to your form, and the table was adorned with a single candle flickering in the center, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything.

Sylus took his seat across from you, his long fingers playing with the edge of the menu, though his attention never wavered from you. “It’s not about being perfect, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward slightly, the flame of the candle reflecting in his eyes. “It’s about being honest”

There was something in his tone tonight—something deeper, more deliberate. You could feel it, the way his gaze lingered on your face, the way his fingers tapped idly against the table as if holding back some secret. But for now, you let it slide, content to fall into the easy rhythm of your usual banter.

For a while, the two of you talked, slipping effortlessly into conversation like you always did. You told him about your day, about the little frustrations and victories at work, the mundane details of life that seemed so much more interesting when shared with him. Sylus listened with the same rapt attention he always gave you, his eyes softening as he watched you speak, a small smile playing on his lips.

“ — I would love for the both of us to have some peace together …alone” you smiled, leaning back in your chair, “I know everything has become so demanding these days – so, having something cozy as a cabin would be sweet”

Sylus tilted his head slightly, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you want a getaway?” His smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Because you know I’m always game for spoiling you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “You spoil me enough as it is. Sometimes I think you’re trying to make me a little too used to luxury.”

He chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Only the best for my love. Besides, why wouldn't you think you deserve it. You deserve everything.”

His words were so sincere, so full of warmth that it made your heart swell in your chest. You looked down at your glass for a moment, trying to hide the way your pulse quickened under his intense gaze. “You’re too good to me, Sylus.”

His eyes darkened slightly, a more serious expression crossing his face. “I don’t think you realize how much I mean that,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Before you could respond, the waiter arrived with the bottle of wine Sylus had chosen—a rare vintage, no doubt, something he’d picked specifically for the occasion. He poured two glasses with expert precision, and Sylus raised his in a silent toast.

“To you,” he said, his voice soft, reverent. “To us.”

You clink your glass gently against his, taking a sip of the rich, velvety wine. It was perfect, of course, just like everything Sylus planned. But as the conversation continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was on his mind, something unspoken.

It was in the way he watched you—his eyes never leaving your face, even as you spoke about the most mundane details of your day. He was always attentive, but tonight, it was different. There was a weight in his gaze, a quiet intensity that seemed to hum between you like a current of electricity.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sylus leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the table in that familiar, thoughtful way. He reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box in his hand.

Your heart pounded as he set it on the table between you, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows over the velvet. “Sylus…”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His crimson eyes were locked on yours, filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, the perfect time, the perfect setting, but I realized…that each moment I have tried — my mind couldnt conjure the right words out of my mouth …the right sentence ..or the right feeling ..everything felt out of place ..but tonight is different–this ring is different”

He slid the box across the table, his fingers brushing yours as he did, sending a spark of warmth through you. “This is a promise, sweetheart. A promise that no matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, I’m yours. Always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring nestled inside. It wasn’t just any ring—it was a Darry Ring, a once-in-a-lifetime promise. You’d heard of them before. The kind of ring that symbolized true love, loyalty, and commitment. Sylus had chosen this for you.

“I… Sylus..” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at him, the tears threatening to spill over.

Sylus stood then, moving around the table to kneel beside you, his hands gently cupping your face as he smiled softly. “You don’t have to say anything, love. The only thing I would ask is for you to please stay with me”

Your breath hitched as you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Yes, I’ll stay with you. Forever.”

He pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was soft and gentle at first, but as the moment deepened, it became more passionate, filled with all the love and promise he had for you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect bubble of intimacy.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were sparkling with a mixture of love and mischief. “A promise ..more of a bound between our souls, don't you think?”

You smiled through your tears, the weight of the ring on your finger a beautiful reminder of his commitment. “gods, you say the most ..its perfection is what it is”your voice still tinged with emotion.

Sylus stood, helping you to your feet, and pulled you into a close embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pressed another tender kiss to your lips. This kiss was soft and full of promise, a sweet punctuation to the heartfelt words and gestures that had defined your evening.

He guided you towards the glass walls of the private room, where the breathtaking view of the city seemed to sparkle even more brightly now. The air outside was crisp, carrying the faintest scent of blooming flowers from the terrace. Sylus led you to the private terrace he had arranged—a cozy space adorned with plush cushions and blankets, perfect for a serene escape under the stars.

The terrace was illuminated by a soft, ambient light from string fairy lights that twinkled overhead. The city lights below glittered like a field of diamonds, their reflections mingling with the soft glow of the lights above. Sylus settled you into the cushions, his hand gently brushing against your cheek as he sat beside you, pulling you close.

“This is where we’ll end our evening,” he said, his voice tender and filled with affection. “Just the two of us, surrounded by all the stars of the night.”

You nestled against him, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence as you both sank into the soft cushions. Sylus’s arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you into a snug embrace. The peaceful quiet of the night was punctuated only by the occasional distant murmur of the city below and the soft rustling of the wind.

As you looked out over the city, Sylus’s gaze never wavered from you. His eyes were filled with a love so deep it seemed to shimmer in the gentle light. “In a world full of fleeting moments” he murmured, his lips close to your ear, “this is one I want to hold onto forever with you”

You turned your head to look up at him, your heart swelling with a profound sense of happiness. “it almost feels surreal…”

Sylus’s eyes softened even further, his expression a blend of affection and admiration as he pressed a final, soft kiss to your lips. “It's a reality I wish to keep you in”

The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of many more moments like this. As you lay together on the terrace, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights below and the stars above seemed to echo the love and commitment you had just sealed with a kiss. In that perfect moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, you had found something truly special—a promise of forever, made in the glow of love and a diamond ring.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧

Note Part two: I wrote this while listening to Mario Kart Rainbow Road Music! Also a darry ring is a fancy French ring that once you get it — you must sign both of ur names that this relationship is forever and ever and you can't get a second ring for another relationship!

[tonixe]

hii i love ur writing and the k you for the noir fic!! there’s not enough content for the boys and i appreciate it so much!! can i request jealous homelander x reader? tyia!

♱ — rapacious — ♱

A/N: I was itching, with no craving to make a homelander fic, and ideas just ran through me, but thank you anon for requesting this, and letting my devious idea run free. P.S. Im not sure bout that black noir fic, this was asked in July, but yk thank you for still requesting <3. Btw H/N is hero name.

WARNING: oral sex, p in the v, no condom we fuck raw, creampies, non-con, tw: homelander, gagging, cursing, non-con, threats, forced breeding and nudity.

PAIRING: jealous! homelander x reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.1k

Life with Homelander was great, something so great that it makes you go insane, crazy...good crazy may be bad for some, but you could take it, right?

Vought, was another thing, watching over your shoulder and making sure everything went well, I mean with you there were a lot fewer casualties than usual. Soon things got less complicated with Edgar and Madelyn being gone from Vought, basically Homelander leading the company with Ashley as a puppet.

It was chaotic per se, where Homelander's watching eye was everywhere in the building. His leadership didn't make anything better but worse. With the seven keeping on being replaced and disappearing mysteriously, surprisingly you were still there with the same everything, no new rebrand, no nothing just staying in place.

You didn't mind it at all, I mean you still had a job and were still getting paid. Even with the weird shift of Black noir, instead of his quiet demeanor, he was talkative which was a change. It was evident it wasn't noir and everyone in the seven knew it, but nobody questioned it. You didn't mind but preferred the change, and even started talking to him.

He was a little better than old noir, not in combat but in being amusing, even spending time with outside meetings and regular superhero activities.

"So how the fuck did you manage to even fly like that?" You asked while you walked with him down the hallway,

"I have no idea, it just happened?" Black Noir II shrugged, you nodded at his words as you took a sip of the peanut butter frappuccino from Vought's cafe, it was a plus that he wasn't allergic to peanuts like the old noir. It wasn't a glow-up from the old noir but a plus. You two chatted as you got into the elevator, it was abruptly stopped by a red, white, and blue cape fluttering into wedging between you both, making you step back, it was Homelander.

The atmosphere immediately got tense than it was once a carefree mood, it was quiet.

"Good morning Homelander," you said, it was met with a nod from him, "Morning Sir," Black Noir said to him, only for him to glare at him, "Don't fucking talk" Homelander ordered, clearly annoyed that he was talking.

It was suffocating being in the elevator, you just took a sip of your frappuccino, praying for the elevator to open up quickly.

Guess your answers were answered rather quickly, as the doors of the huge elevator opened to the meeting room, the giant seven table in front of you.

The Deep, Sage, Firecracker, and A-train were already in their seats. "Good morning sir" The deep stood up, saluting him which made you laugh a little. You immediately took your seat next to Firecracker, and the meeting started. It was a blur to you, something like finding the leak in Vought, which you had many questions about.

The whole meeting was led by a different Sage, your eyes flicked towards Homelander, he was staring at Black Noir. You averted your eyes away,

God, you have to pay attention more often.

You couldn't help but take a sip of peanut butter frappuccino, "Would you fucking stop" Homelander's voice interrupted Sage's presentation, all attention was at him and he was staring directly at you.

"Um...Sorry" You hesitating looked back at him, and you felt eyes on you. You couldn't help but your heart to beat faster,

You watched Homelander rubbed his head in annoyance, closing his eyes before staring to you, "Could you slurp any louder?" He said, his voice dripping with annoyance and sarcasm.

"Sorry" You muttered, putting it back where it was,

"No..nope" Homelander repeated, he pointed at you again, "Be a good girl and put it in the garbage" He snapped. You looked around, with everyone staring at you, "Okay" you responded, slowly getting up from your chair, taking the cup in your hand, and throwing it in the garbage before sitting down.

"Good"

With that statement, the meeting continued on, with your face heating up in embarrassment, as you sank further into the chair.

Sage's voice engulfing your thoughts,

You got interrupted by a note being thrown at you, it was obvious it was from Noir that somehow got to you without Homelander looking, you grinned a little bit, secretly opening up the crumbled piece of paper.

[I'll buy you a new drink after the meeting] - Noir

You read the note, before turning your attention to him and smiling, quickly putting the note in the pocket of your suit before Homelander can see it. Combing your hair back and leaning back into your chair.

Soon the meeting ended, getting up from your seat, and everyone else was doing the same, yours scanned and the room soon landing on Firecracker still in her seat. But you didn't care much to ask why, but more excited to hang out with Noir after this awkward meeting.

"Everyone can go expect H/N" You heard Homelander's voice mentioning your name made you freeze. You stopped where you were, "You can go Firecracker" Homelander turned to her,

"But..um Homelander sir—"

"You can go," Homelander said again but in a more threatening tone, "Now" After he said she scrambled out of the meeting room.

Soon it was only you two left in the room, you watched hesitantly as Homelander turned to you. "Y/N, we need to talk," Homelander states, you could hear his voice straining, with concealed anger.

You looked up at him confused, "About..what?" You asked.

You watched as he walked around you, his pace was slow, you listened to his footsteps echoing around the empty meeting room, before he stopped suddenly, " Do you think I'm just stupid?" Homelander said, his tone catching you off guard.

It wasn't confusing that Homelander was speaking to you in anger, you rarely got him angry knowing you both were together and your relationship wasn't publicized due to his status.

"No, definitely not John," You replied, using his name instead of his hero alias, made him freeze before he stared at you.

Jealously was gnawing inside of him when he looked at you, "Tell me...are you fucking him" Homelander snapped at you, your brows knitted together in confusion at his words. "No, we're just hanging out—why would you ever think that?" You stuttered over your words, as Homelander walked closer to you.

He reached out for your face, harshly grabbing your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his eyes. You felt his glove hand digging into your face, his eyes closely turning red, you just felt fear, you were terrified. You knew he could smell your fear, and hear your rising heartbeat. "John...I would never cheat on you, I'm yours" You entreated, trembling under his grip.

Finally, his grip got looser and then he dropped your face, making you stumble a bit.

"Then show me," Homelander said,

You were confused about his words, "What?"

"If you love me..show me" Homelander sat down in the seat in front of you. It took you some time to process his words, confused at what he was saying, "Come on, strip for me" signaling towards your chest.

Your brows furrowing, "Come on, if you don't do it" Homelander leaned in his seat, "You won't like it if I do it" He finished,

"Now strip" He repeated, his tone more irritated.

You took a breath in and started undressing. Unzipping your suit, feeling the cool air on your bare skin. Your suit falling on the marble floor echoed through the room, leaving you in your bra and panties.

"Bra and panties too" Homelander eyed your chest.

You comply, putting your hand behind you and clipping your bra off, discarding it on the floor, and stepping out of your panties, leaving you fully naked in front of him.

"Come here" He patted his lap, "Crawl" he pointed at you. You sank down to your knees and crawled towards him and stopped in front of him. "Come on, you know what to do" You felt his hand on your cheek, stroking it.

You looked down at his growing member in his pants. Hesitatingly looking up at him through your lashes, as you started to undo the bottom of his suit revealing his cock, you looked up at him, "Use your mouth" You leaned in and inched his cock into your mouth, before taking him whole. Homelander moans out feeling your warm mouth enveloping his cock, feeling his hand gripping your hair making you wince.

You slowly bob your head down on his length, his grip on you getting tighter. Your ears perched up at his straining voice barely containing his whimpers as he watched you intently, taking him whole. "Fuck, your good at this" Homelander groaned, jerking you away, taking his cock out from your mouth. Staring at your disheveling appearance, spit dribbling on your chin.

His hand still fisting your hair, "Your pretty when your like this" Homelander chuckled, before forcing you down his cock, making you gagged. Tears prick on your waterline, saliva staining your chin, his grip never loosening as he abused your throat,  thrusting into your mouth, the sound of slick, the sounds of wet suction filling up the room.

His pace turning frantic, fucking your mouth.

Homelander threw his head back as waves of ecstasy washed over him. His hips buckled uncontrollably as he lets out a guttural groan, filling your mouth with his cum. "Fuck, ..." He pants, chest heaving, before he gripped your face, "Be a good girl and swallow it" He threatens, feeling the hot liquid going down your throat, swallowing it.

His grip loosening and releasing you. You panted for air, feeling his gloved-hand stroking your cheek. "Now, stand and lean over at table" Homelander ordered, as you got up from the floor and obeyed his order, propping yourself on the table, and bending yourself over the glass. You couldn't help but to feel excited for the pain, the slick dripping down your legs. You waited in anticipation,

Before feeling his cock stretching you out, biting down at your lip at the simmering pain, arching your back. His hands on back of your waist, "Fuck" you mumbled, gripping the end of the glass. Before he thrusting into you, "You think Noir would please you like I do" Homelander growled into your ear, his breath warm on your skin "N...no" you mumbled, feeling his cock tearing you open, feeling himself stretching your cervix.

His ministration was more painful next than the next, feeling his cock stabbing you over and over again. The sounds of flesh slapping filled the room, letting out a gasp, your voice wavering in pain. His thrust driving deeper into you, clenching down on his cock, feeling his grip digging into your skin.

You hated how you were slowly enjoying this, feeling yourself coming close to your climax. Your body tensing up as you feel your skin warming up,

His hips stuttering against yours, "Fuck, I'm close" You felt his hands stroking your hips, "What if I just cummed inside you, breed you myself, have my kids, and have a family...then ill have you to myself" He whispered,

You felt your heart in your throat, "Pull out" You tried to get away from stone grip, "Homelander, please" You begged, only for your face to be shove down on the glass table. Scrambling underneath his grip, just to get him off you. "please" you cried.

His pace getting frantic until he thrust into you for the last time, feeling on cue your body shuddering as he came into you. Feeling himself spilling inside you, making you freeze on the spot.

Feeling him finally pulling out of you, leaving you there stunned. He kissed your shoulder, the kiss feeling lingering on you.

You heard the sound of him putting his pants back on. He stared at you before walking towards you, before sighing, you turned your head to him, "I forgive you, you know" He said, his hand behind his back watching your pitiful form,

"Just don't do it again" he pats your head,

"Now get dressed, we have a date" He smiles, listening to his footsteps descending from you.

[temiizpalace]

☆┊JEALOUS OF A FISH..?

SUMMARY: taking your mer-boyfriend on an aquarium date, only to find out he’s jealous.. of a fish.

CHARACTERS: octavinelle

GENRE: fluff, crackfic(?)

ROMANTIC

WARNINGS: feeling unable to breathe in jade’s part, but nothing dire or life threatening

reader is g/n, if you squint reader is yuu in floyd’s

🐙 ┆AZUL ASHENGROTTO

“azul, look!”

you enthusiastically pointed to a school of beautiful fish swimming by, their scales glowing in the soft light shined into the tank. azul was expressionless watching all the fishes swim by, not understanding your amazement by them.

“mm.” he hums, looking void of any emotion. you had bought tickets to the aquarium to take him on a cute little date together, but he doesn’t seem as nearly excited as you are. “is something wrong?” you ask, your voice laced with concern.

azul’s expression changes, doing his best to reassure you. “n-no! nothing’s wrong at all! i was just.. thinking about something.” he stumbles over his words, his body language telling you he’s trying to hide something. nonetheless, you slowly nod before looking back at the tank with the sea creatures.

in the corner, near the sunken ship prop, you catch a glimpse of a tentacle sticking out from the treasure chest. “did you see that?” you ask azul, narrowing your eyes to catch the cephalopod hidden inside. “see what?” he questions before feeling a grip on his wrist, getting dragged towards the pirate ship.

you stare at the treasure chest before seeing an octopus spring from the inside. admittedly, it was a little disturbing to look at, but beautiful all the same. it’s tentacles swayed in the water, leaving you to watch in awe. “beautiful..” you exclaim as the octopus swims by you both, causing azul to roll his eyes.

“i could’ve shown you this firsthand without some tank..” he mutters, gritting his teeth as the octopus swings by again. “i think we should go.” he grunts, tugging your hand. “what? azul—“ before even getting to finish your sentence, he takes you to the nearby café.

“what’s this about, azul?” you sigh, clearly sensing something wrong. he turns away, afraid to make eye contact with you. “it was nothing.” he shrugs, taking a seat at a nearby table. “it’s obviously something! cmon, what’s bothering you?” you sit down with him, putting his hand gently in yours.

“please? what’s wrong?” being even a little sweet was enough for him to cave in. he’s just a big sucker for you, he can’t help it. “it’s just.. if you wanted to see creatures of the sea.. you could’ve asked me..” he mumbles, his face turning slightly red.

his little remark was all you needed to understand the situation. “azul.. were you jealous of the sea animals?” you chuckle, seeing his eyes widen. “t-that’s ridiculous! me? jealous of a few fish?” you squeeze his hand a little, his breath hitching slightly. he nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions.

you laugh, leaving him to cover his face with his hand. “i’m not going to leave for for a couple of fish, azul!” you smile, kissing the back of his hand. he stutters, unused to this fuzzy feeling. “sorry.. did you still want to look at the other tanks?” he awkwardly suggests, getting up from his seat.

“i’d love to.” you lovingly replied, following him as he led you to the next exhibit.

🐬┆JADE LEECH

“jade, i can’t see the fish..”

you grunt, the only thing in your view being jade’s back. “is that so? what a shame.. they’re so pretty too.” he smiled, but his eyes told a different story. he stared daggers into those fish, causing them to swim away from him.

you groan, trying to push him out of the way. he didn’t budge, not even a little. jade chuckles at your futile attempts, making you frustrated. all you wanted was a nice aquarium date with your boyfriend, but after looking at a couple of fish, he blocked your way!

“aren’t these fish just enchanting?” he states in a mocking tone, causing your eyebrow to raise. “jade, is something bothering you?” he chuckles, turning to face you. “nothing is wrong, my pearl. I’m just enjoying the aquarium like everyone else.”

“something is obviously bothering you!” you protest, crossing your arms angrily. he didn’t even let you LOOK at the fish, so clearly something was wrong. you sighed, massaging your temple. “let’s just go to another exhibit.” you walked to another part of the aquarium, jade following not far behind.

closing in on the tank, you made a run for it. you had to ensure that a certain someone was going to block your vision as soon as you arrived. the creatures inside danced in the water, their fins wavering in mesmerizing ways. in the rocks, you spot an eel hiding off to the side. eels were always fascinating creatures.. trust me, you know.

you stare at the tank, much to your boyfriends dismay. jade stands beside you, his eye twitching as a school of fish swiftly swim by. your eyes lit up at the breathtaking sight, unable to utter the emotions you felt in this moment. “..my pearl, could you please follow me?” he asks, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently.

hearing his voice made you snap out of it, hesitantly nodding as he leads you away. you both walk out of the aquarium, leaving a puzzled expression on your face. “jade, where are we going?” he smiles before turning the corner, presenting a secluded area of the beach. “trust me, my love.” he hums, rummaging through his bag for a special something.

he pulls out a bottle and hands it to you. “i haven’t seen you drink any water all day,” he sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly. “please, drink up.” you smelt something fishy, and it wasn’t the ocean. nonetheless, he was right. maybe he was being a kind boyfriend and was just looking out for you. you took a couple sips of the water inside the bottle, feeling refreshed right after.

you noticed jade putting his bag aside on a nearby rock before removing his jacket. immediately, you knew what this meant. suddenly, the ability to breathe became difficult. your throat felt like it was drying up and your lungs were caving in.

he came over to you, held you close, and jumped into the water with you in his arms. you gasped for air, feeling relieved as your lungs began to function properly. “JADE.” you angrily yell, “I COULD HAVE CHOKED!” he caresses your face before cupping your cheeks. “i apologize, my love. i forgot to account the side effects of the potion.”

“why did you..?” you look around to see yourself surrounded by a coral reef, fish swimming right past you. “i believe you should’ve seen this firsthand, without some glass in the way.” he chuckles, leaving you starstruck. “that eel was quite distracting from the fish.. truly taking away from the experience.” he pouts, making you think.

“were you jealous of an eel?” you ask. “quite. it truly hurt my feelings to see my pearl allured to another.” he sniffles, wiping away his “tears.” you can’t help but laugh a little, seeing as he did something so immature. “then we should make the most of this.” you take his hand and pull him towards another part of the reef.

“if you insist. please, do be gentle with me.”

🦈┆FLOYD LEECH

“i’m waaayyy cooler than those fish.”

floyd pouts, glaring at any creature that dares to swim by you. he draped himself over you, keeping stuck in place. you try your best to annoying your clingy and clearly jealous boyfriend to enjoy the sights of the sea, but he just won’t shut up.

“psst.. shrimpyyy.” floyd whines, poking your shoulder. you groan before responding agitatedly, tired of the constant complaining as if he was a little kid. “what is it?” “why aren’t ya looking at me..” your eyebrow twitches as he asks, your knuckles turning white as you clenched your hand into a fist.

normally things like this wouldn’t be too annoying, but you spent good money on these tickets so his ass better enjoy this. “because I’m looking at the fish..” you retort, taking deep breaths in and out to control your temper. he scoffs, suddenly going quiet.

though the silence worries you, your attention gets averted to the glimmering school of fish passing by, entrancing you to stay for longer. an abrupt tap on your shoulder startles you and breaks your focus. “which ones your favorite?” floyd calmly asked, tilting his head.

while floyd does go through his mood swings, it surprised you to see him so suddenly calm. “probably that one near the edge. it’s just oddly alluring, yknow?” he nods and walks off, further confusing you with the sudden switch in behavior. he goes behind a staff only door alarming you and causing you to pick up the pace.

“FLOYD! YOU CAN’T GO BACK THERE!” you yelled out to him, but he chose to ignore you. the yelling of the staff can be heard from behind the door, making you nervous to know what was going on. just then, there was a sudden splash in the tank, catching the attention of many nearby visitors.

your face fills with terror at the sight. your boyfriend is in his eel form, in the tank, for the public to see, while chasing the fish you said you liked. his laughing was as loud as ever, scaring little kids who wanted to see fish swim by. “great seven..” you muttered under your breath.

while you are happy to see him happy, you wished he was happy doing something else. floyd grabs the fish and squeezes it tightly. he giggles as he glared at it with sadistic eyes. “looks like i won, fishyyy! shrimpy’s affection is mine!” after awhile, he grows bored and unhands the poor fish. he climbs out of the tank and makes himself mildly presentable.

you waited outside as the staff kicked him out escorted him outside. “shrimpy! there you are! did you see my fight?” he smiles, pulling you into his arms and squeezing you tightly. “i did..” you sigh, remembering the look of the poor children around you who just wanted to go to the aquarium. “you can’t just do that though! we’re lucky they didn’t press charges!”

floyd shrugs before placing a kiss atop of your forehead. “you won’t leave me, right?” he asks, his tone doing a complete 180. your expression softens, kissing him on the cheek in return. “of course not. you just piss me off sometimes.” you joke, but it’s true. you wouldn’t leave him for the world.

he’s just happy to be part of your world..

A/N: we’ve seen leona getting jealous of cats but i wanted octavinelle jealous of fish

date published: 3/26/24

© temiizpalce — don’t steal or copy my work!

[loveriotss]

DINNER WITH THE TODOROKIS ⸻ shoto todoroki

SYNOPSIS — shoto todoroki invites reader over to a family dinner just to get on endeavor's nerves. REQUEST — "Hi...Could I request a Shoto x reader, where Shoto brings over the reader to family dinner just to piss off Endeavor? <3" INCLUDES — gn! reader, fluff, 1.2k words WARNINGS — minor spoiler (change in hero rankings), like one swear word

main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚

“would you like to have dinner with me and my family next saturday?”

you look up from your homework, your eyes meeting his two-colored ones as you freeze for a second at his sudden request. you and shoto were curled up in your dorm. textbooks, notes and stationary sprawled all over the small round table in the middle of your room while you two were completing an assignment given by mr. aizawa.

“dinner? are you sure i won’t be intruding?” you asked him, your fingers fiddling with your pen.

“my sister invited me to a family dinner again. she has been trying her best to make our family..work. my old man will be there too." your eyes widen for a split second before you relax again. oh yeah having dinner at the same table as the number one hero wasn’t a big deal at all! you can handle that..right? you've watched countless journalists having interviews with the fiery man and have read even more comments about him and his cold personality. you didn't know what scared you more — the fact that he was the top hero of Japan or that he was the father of shoto.

“oh..are you sure he won't get mad or anything?" you ask nervously. "if he even tries to be rude to you, we can leave. i don't want you to feel uncomfortable. i'm sorry if this seems like a selfish request of mine..i just wish to see his reaction towards you. i understand if you're busy or don't wish to accompany me-" “NO” you interrupted hurriedly, face turning red as shoto looked at you, slightly startled by the sudden interruption. you cleared your throat before speaking again, “i mean, i’m not busy. i'd love to join you all for dinner.”

shoto’s eyes immediately return to his paper at your words, a hint of red on his cheeks. “okay, I’ll let fuyumi know,” he says with a soft smile on his face.

you stood nervously in front of the gate to the todoroki abode. the exterior of the residence looked like any other traditional japanese house with a stone path leading to the front door. the greenery around the house was neat and well maintained. the house seemed to be emitting a soft glow. you fidgeted with your fingers, wishing you’d had a little more time to practice your “not-freaking-out” face.

you didn't realize how tense your body was until shoto slithered his fingers between yours, interlocking them and giving them a soft squeeze. you relaxed into his touch and gave him a smile before ringing the doorbell.

a pretty young lady with white hair that had hints of red mixed with them emerged from the house and excitedly greeted the two of you, she must be shoto's sister.

"shoto! i'm so glad you're here!" she said before turning towards you and grabbing both your hands, a sparkle in her eyes as she spoke, "and you must be y/n! shoto has told me so much about you! it's so nice to meet you!" she exclaimed with a smile.

"hello! nice to meet you too! thank you so much for having me today!" you say, returning her energy.

"thank you for clearing your busy schedules to drop by! and please, call me fuyumi!" she states as she gestures for you two to come in.

you turn your head towards shoto for a moment, mouthing a "she's nice," before following behind fuyumi.

the house wasn't very modern, with tatami mats and sliding doors everywhere. the air was slightly cold but still comfortable enough. there was a delicious aroma in the air; it seemed fuyumi had gone all out. there was the slightest scent of incense sticks wafting down from a hallway but you brushed it off.

fuyumi led you two to a room that consisted of a table surrounded by traditional japanese seats. the dining table was elegantly set, with a feast of rich dishes spread out across the table. however, the air in this room seemed much more tense than it did outside. at the head of the table sat a tall sturdy man who you immediately recognized as endeavor. two seats down to his left sat a young man with white hair.

"hello!" you start, trying to sound as confident as possible, "my name is y/n l/n. thank you for having me!".

"call me natsuo, I am shoto's older brother. it's nice to meet you." says the white-haired man. "it's nice to meet you too natsuo!" you exclaimed happily before turning to endeavor.

"it's nice to meet you, mr. todoroki." you say firmly. endeavor’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he managed a curt nod. “likewise. let’s get on with dinner.”

as you took your seat, you noticed endeavor’s gaze occasionally flicking towards shoto, a mixture of curiosity and irritation in his eyes. meanwhile, shoto ignored his father's eyes and carried on eating his cold soba. you could tell that his relaxed demeanor was deliberately designed to get under endeavor’s skin.

as the dinner flowed, you made small conversations with fuyumi and natsuo while shoto piped in once in a while. the room was filled with soft laughter, the clinking of utensils, and occasional requests to pass dishes.

“so, l/n,” endeavor started gruffly, causing your attention to immediately snap to him, “how did you and shoto meet?” you took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “we are in the same class. shoto and i were paired for a project and we gradually became closer because of that.”

endeavor’s eyes sharpened. “and what do you think of my son’s… career aspirations?” you hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “I think shoto is very dedicated to his work. he’s passionate about what he does.”

a flicker of surprise crossed endeavor’s face, but he quickly masked it with a gruff nod. the conversation continued with a noticeable tension, but you were able to keep the mood from becoming too uncomfortable.

as the meal came to a close and dessert was served, endeavor’s demeanor was a mix of frustration and reluctant acceptance.

“well, y/n,” endeavor said as he stood up, “it’s been… interesting having you here. i hope you enjoyed the meal.” “thank you for having me,” you replied sincerely, giving him a warm smile, “i did enjoy it.”

you bid farewell to natsuo and fuyumi, thanking her for the food as you and shoto made your way out. once you two were a few blocks down, you let out a content sigh, "i'm glad that went well. i almost shit my pants while talking to your dad."

shoto let out a little laugh as he interlocked his fingers with yours. "thank you..for doing this." he says, looking down at his feet as you both stroll down the sidewalk. "of course, shoto. this type of rebel behavior is fun sometimes." you reply while giggling.

shoto smiles down at you as he squeezes your hand, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling you in closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

"i love you." he whispers.

you gently tangle your fingers into the back of his hair as you whisper back, "i love you too."

NOTE — first time writing a full length fic lmk how i did 😓🙏 (dont be mean i will cry). i rewatched the scene when shoto brings bakugo and izu to his home for dinner for some inspoo. YK I WAS ORIGINALLY GONNA MAKE THIS ANGSTY but guys i believe in endeavor redemption journey so i just couldn't also i yap so much in these author note things oopsies also i love fuyumi

©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.

[blueywrites]

u-haul 'cause I might let you move in it (1/2)

dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader Inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part two here.

2.5k

cw (both parts): 18+. smut, drug use (weed), situationship becoming something more (???), shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, no y/n, no physical descriptors, eddie's still a fairly soft dom bc I'm just not hard like that 😭

an: this is just the start of the filth, y'all - most of it occurs in part two 😌 shout out to @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @word-wytch and @the-unforgivenn for their feral support and @fracturedarkness bc this wouldn't exist without her.

enjoy part one! 🩵

The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow through the dusty blinds of the trailer. The air inside is thick with the scent of smoke and stale beer, a heady mixture that clings to the walls. It’s the kind of smell that seeps into your clothes, your hair, your skin. It should leave you feeling slightly suffocated, especially considering the oppressive humidity also clinging to every surface, but somehow, there's a measure of comfort in the acrid scent.

You’re sitting on the threadbare couch, the fabric worn with age creaking as you shift restlessly, trying to find a more comfortable position in the heat. The fabric scratches your soles as you prop your feet up, leaning against the couch arm, fanning the neck of your thin tank top to peel the dampness from your chest. Beneath the old coffee table, your flip-flops lay forgotten, abandoned on the threadbare carpet. A beer bottle sits nearby, sweating rings onto the surface of the table, a testament to the lazy haze of the afternoon.

On the other side of the couch, your dealer lounges against the cushions, his movements fluid and practiced as he rolls a joint with deft, inked fingers. You look over at Eddie as he watches the TV, his head lolled back against the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded, relaxed. He looks good. You can’t help but spend a long moment staring at him: the angles of his face, his big brown eyes and puffy lips, his long, shaggy curls that frame his high cheekbones. He’s pretty, and he’d look downright innocent if it wasn’t for the long nick of white scar tissue kissing the edge of his lip and the scruff darkening his cheeks and jaw. Your gaze dips lower over his tight black jeans, lingering where they meet his rust-colored tank. The shirt is caught up around his hip, revealing a strip of pale skin and a tattoo that you can just see the bottom of. You want to run your tongue over it, then keep mapping all his ink until your mouth has touched each bit of darkness on him.

This thing with Eddie started when you broke up with Trevor and lost your go-to source for getting high. When you’d asked around, a friend of a friend recommended Eddie Munson, saying he was the best you could come by in the area: decent product, reasonable prices, and not a total creep. The first couple times were quick transactions, and then you started hanging around because the girl who hooked you up also told you Eddie would likely offer to smoke you out if you did. He let you hang around because he didn't much care either way, and he didn't find you hard to look at. That led quickly to casual sex whenever you saw each other, usually when you'd come by a couple times a month to restock your supply. And the sex is great– better than the weed, and Eddie's weed is always high quality. He just has this ability to make you feel special in the moment without having any expectations about whatever-you-and-he-were as soon as you pull your panties back on, leaving you free to date whoever you wanted when you left his trailer.

It’s ecstasy to have all of his attention focused on you in those moments because, though Eddie looks like a mean bastard, he gets off on your pleasure. He's not one to make you feel used or neglected; he's a thorough lover. And he has a knack for straddling the perfect line between sweet and sour. He'd praise you then humiliate you in the next breath, and it drove you wild. Kept you coming back even though he never expressed interest in taking you out or doing anything with you other than just getting high, watching TV, and fucking you 'til you screamed.

And then, at some point, you find yourself declining guys' offers for dinner or drinks. You just don’t feel like going out anymore, because trying to find Mr. Right was getting exhausting— at least, that's what you tell yourself. And Eddie starts calling you sometimes to let you know he had a new strain he thought you'd like, some of Rick's fancy shit. Soon enough, you go from seeing him twice a month to twice a week, sometimes more. And slowly but surely, you begin to notice a change in yourself. You start staring at all his tattoos and wondering what the stories are behind them. Feeling an odd flutter when you flop down next to him and he'd sling his arm around your shoulder without a thought. Laying tangled in his musty bedsheets, and when he leaves to go to the bathroom, secretly burying your nose against his pillow because the smell of him has suddenly become... comforting.

Things are changing for you, and you really hope they are for him, too. 'Cause if not, it seems your traitorous heart has determined you'll be in for a world of hurt.

"Y'want some of this?" Eddie's voice cuts through the haze, drawing your attention away from the television. You glance over to see him holding up the joint, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The glow of the joint illuminates his features, soft against the curve of his cheek.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your own lips as you shift closer to him. He pats his thigh, a silent invitation, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his lap, the heat of his body seeping through your pajama shorts. His jeans are rough against your tender inner thighs as you shift, grazing the hardening bulge pressing against his zipper; your stomach tightens with the first whispers of arousal as you feel it brush against you.

"Gimme a show then, kitten," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, making that arousal bloom fuller as you grow excited. It’s a playful taunt, a challenge, but beneath the teasing facade, you can sense something more—a hint of possessiveness, maybe even of longing. That could just be your wishful thinking, but nonetheless, your heart races at the prospect as you meet his gaze, accepting his challenge.

With a coy smile, you slip off the couch, settling on your knees and running your nails up his thighs on your way to his lap. You take your time unbuckling his belt, keeping your movements slow and unhurried, though you secretly throb as you begin to unwrap him. It’s crazy how quickly he turns you on— how all he has to do is smirk and pin you with a look, or murmur a few words in that low, husky tone, and you’re already wetting your panties for him. 

Eddie waits just long enough for you to shimmy his jeans and boxers down to his knees, and then he catches you by the jaw with a broad, rough palm. You look up at him as he guides you back up with his light grip on your face. His eyes flick down to your mouth as he leans forward, curls swinging to kiss his jaw. You brighten, eager to feel his mouth on yours, wondering what kind of kiss he’ll reward you with— something slow and sweet, or wet and filthy. But he leaves just a peck on your lips before drawing back, tightening his hold on your jaw to keep you firmly in place when you instinctively go to chase him.

You fall immediately into a pout, slumping back on your heels as he breathes a chuckle at you. Eddie bends to lightly pat your cheek a few times in consolation before settling back into the cushions, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He must know the gesture would rile you up, and it does— you feel your disappointment churn in your belly, turning to petulance. In retaliation, you clamber up to your feet, abandoning your position kneeling before his boots. With narrowed eyes, you drop your shorts and panties together without ceremony, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, denying him the chance to enjoy watching you strip. You cross your arms when your bratting only makes him smirk even wider at you. He quirks an eyebrow as if to say, “Well?” 

You resent how much you like his stupid face.

The couch creaks its protest as you climb up onto it, slinging a leg over his lap again, this time with nothing separating your skin from his, which is hot and slightly sticky with the humidity. His cock kicks subtly when your pussy grazes him, and you bite your lip, feeling an answering pulse of desire within yourself. When you mount him, reaching behind to grip him at the base and notch his fat head at your entrance, Eddie prepares for your performance: draping his arms casually over the backrest, fingers idly tapping against the worn fabric, his other arm hinging to bring the joint lazily to his lips. 

He looks like such an asshole, waiting for you to service him. And you might've goaded him more because of it, but you forget about being bratty the second you sink down on his lap, taking him all the way into you. 

A quiet moan sighs from between your cracked lips when you sit fully on his cock, your eyes slipping closed as you get lost in that initial stretch. He's not the only guy you've fucked— far from it— but there’s just something about the way he slots inside, nudging against the end of you, that always leaves you feeling more perfectly filled than anyone else. Eddie watches with a sly glint in his half-lidded eyes as you start to grind on him, letting yourself drift into the space he always brings you into. With him, you can be soft, sensual, and needy, but also desperate and pathetic. You can act out all your secret desires, know that Eddie will flay you open and force you to acknowledge them, and let the shame of it get you off all at once.

Eddie lets you be a freak, and better yet, he likes it.

Desperate to earn his approval, you run your hands up your body, dragging over your hips and up to your neck as you ride him. Your abdomen rolls as you grind with fluid, sensual movements, doing your best to put on the show he’d requested. You look at him through your lashes as your wandering fingers catch on the hem of your tank top, dragging it slowly up to reveal your soft belly. You hold it just below your breasts so Eddie can watch the way your curves bend and move while you work his cock. 

In some respects, the dance is for you as much as it’s for him because the way Eddie watches you with rapt attention, his eyes devouring every inch of your body, really turns you on. You bite your lip, your clit swelling with anticipation as you tease him with a glimpse of the underside of your breasts. He hums approvingly, taking a leisurely hit from the joint. As the smoke curls around him in a tantalizing haze, you give in sooner than you’d been intending and ruck up your top to let your breasts fall out. You start to play with them, squeezing and kneading as you rock your hips harder, your own need mounting.

Gradually, your performance ceases being a performance. Your nipples begin to ache, begging to be touched, and a moan spills unbidden from your lips as you tweak and pinch them, sending pleasure zinging straight down within you. You close your eyes, a tiny frown forming as you try to concentrate on the low flame of your arousal, but it remains at a frustratingly low simmer. You rock faster, grind harder, pinch harsher, your movements a silent plea for the sweet relief only Eddie can give. You’ve built your own pleasure as much as you can on your own, and now, you need him. The coyness is wiped from your expression, replaced with a begging pinch in your brow, a needy, wet shine in your eyes as you blink unseeingly at him, all pretty and pathetic on his lap.

At the border between satisfaction and desperation— that’s where he wanted you. 

A hand at your hip stills your movements, and as your eyes snap to focus on Eddie's face, you see he’s leaned forward, his nose scant inches from yours. His other elbow is planted on the couch arm, the joint poised tantalizingly nearby in his ringed fingers. Eddie squeezes your hip firmly, then again more gratuitously, and when you obediently fall still to sit motionless on his cock, he lets his palm slide up the curve of your waist in a drag that makes you gasp, you're so wired and ready for his touch. You watch, rapt, as he brings the joint toward his lips, salivating as a swipe of his tongue moistens them.

“Look at me.” 

Your eyes snap up to his, captured completely by his unwavering gaze. As he inhales, those brown eyes glitter in the orange that flares bright at the joint’s end. And he keeps that point of contact between you as his broad palm travels up, up, up— over the supple heft of your breast, grazing the hard peak of your nipple, skimming the thrumming pulse in your neck, his thumb catching on the underside of your jaw as he cups your cheek. He closes those scant inches between you, and when the bulb of his nose nudges yours, your mouth falls open as your eyes slip closed. 

He exhales, you inhale. When the warm rush of Eddie’s breath kisses your lips, you take it into you, your chest expanding as your lungs fill with smoke. The taste of him mingles with a heady rush of arousal, and you continue to take, even through the twinge of discomfort as your lungs stretch to accommodate it all. As Eddie gives you the last of his smoke, you close your mouth, keeping it all inside.

“Hold it,” he murmurs against your skin. His lips trail kisses along your jaw as you obey, fighting your diaphragm as it hitches, wanting to cough. You make a little noise in the back of your throat when he nips you, the brief sharp sting soothed soon after by the flat of his tongue. You hold as long as you can, and when you finally exhale, Eddie rewards you by taking hold of your hips, pulling you into a slow, sensual grind as he kisses you sloppy, wet lips wide and devouring. The friction and fervor crash over you in an intense wave of pleasure, one that has you whining, twisting your fingers in his hair, pressing your tits to his chest, ready to ignite—

The front door shakes with the pounding of a heavy fist.

[silverdragonfly]

Homecoming | Aemond x Reader

part i here or can be read as a standalone

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: !MDNI! mature content (p in v, oral fem-receiving, daddy kink, praise, riding, unprotected sex, language). English isn't my first language.

word count: 4K

summary: 8 days Aemond spent on a business trip with his brother. 8 days that felt like an eternity. 8 days are finally over, and he’ll be home very soon.

a/n: i hope you enjoy the taste of this reunion! feedback, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated 💗

divider credit @cafekitsune

7:23 PM, Aemond 🤍: On my way home

7:24 PM, You: Waiting for u ❤️ 

Vhagar stretches out on the shoe rack, licking her paw and paying extra attention to her claws, making you glance at your own manicure. She knows he'll be home soon; it’s her regular waiting spot. Whenever you and Aemond come home together, she’s always lying on the shoe rack, keeping an eye on the front door. Afterwards, she jumps off and lazily saunters toward her food, as if your return doesn’t really matter to her.

26 minutes—that’s how long the ride from the airport usually takes. Another 26 minutes of waiting. You spent the entire day cleaning the apartment, and the evening was dedicated to cooking. Aemond said he wouldn’t mind ordering takeaway, but you needed to distract yourself from mindlessly checking the time as if house chores could make the time go faster. Surprisingly, it worked.

Your phone lights up with a notification.

7:28 PM

Aegon sends a message.

Furrowing your brows, you tap on the notification. There’s a photo of Aemond in his Black Sabbath t-shirt and Adidas pants, striding through the airport with his two suitcases. You burst into giggles at the message.

Aegon: I think he’s trying to kill me with THAT look. HELP

You're quick to type back. 

You: Must be a reason

You follow the three moving dots as Aegon types his response.

Aegon: Literally none

Aegon: Okay maybe one

Aegon: Or two

You: I might say a word on your behalf…

Aegon: Yohooo!

Aegon: u 2 have my blessing! 🙌

7:31 PM.

Looking out the window, the city sprawls out like it’s resting in your palm. Millions of other windows beam with lights, and the traffic creates a sparkling, moving line, all visible from the top floor of your apartment. You clearly remember being freaked out for the first time you got close to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aemond had to come and hug you from behind; only then did you feel safe, with his broad chest pressed against your back and his veiny hands holding you securely by the waist. He rested his chin in the crook of your neck, and you could see the reflection of your sheepish smile in the glass.

Straightening your oversized cotton t-shirt over your shorts, you wonder if it's too late to change into something more... lacy. You’ve long passed the stage of trying to impress each other with such small things. But sometimes, the small things speak volumes about deeper intentions.

You flinch at the sound of the alarm clock.

7:35 PM – alarm: Pie.

Moving into the adjacent kitchen, you turn on the LED lights, and the matte beige cabinets glow warmly. Pressing the off button, you open the oven, quickly turning away from the billowing steam. The mouth-watering aroma of apple and cinnamon fills the air. Wearing kitchen gloves, you take the springform pan and place it on the stove. A fork pierces the pie, sinking into the soft pastry and revealing no trace of raw dough inside.

Perfect.

You cover the pie with a cotton kitchen towel.

With a clink, you take two plates from the cupboard and place them on the wooden table. The cutlery follows. You’ll light the candles during dinner.

At the sound of Vhagar’s meow, you rush toward the door, your heart racing faster. The cat is already sitting on the front door rug, her round green eyes fixed on the entrance.

“Vhagar, move aside,” you gently nudge her further inside the hallway. The last thing you need is to chase her down the stairs to the ground floor.

Unlocking the door swiftly, you find Aemond standing there, keys frozen in his hand, lips spreading into a smile.

“Hi, love,” his voice comes out velvety.

Your hands instantly reach for his neck as he lifts you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your legs swing in the air as he spins you around, happiness flooding through you as you inhale his musky cologne. Squealing with delight, you don't care if you look silly.

“I missed you so much,” you giggle as he plants gentle kisses along the crook of your neck before pressing his lips to yours in a short, sloppy kiss.

“I missed you too,” he whispers in your ear.

He’s yours, he’s finally home, and—

“Phew, you two are disgustingly sweet.” Aegon’s voice cuts in, making you peek awkwardly over Aemond’s tensed shoulder.

Your lips part in surprise but quickly turn into a smile.

“Hi, Aeggie,” you say as your feet touch the ground again. Stepping between the suitcases, which roll in different directions, he walks into the apartment clearly unbothered as always.

“Hi, Y/N, you look gorgeous!” he says, brushing past Aemond to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How was your trip?” you ask, helping Aemond push one of the suitcases into the hall, propping it against the wall near the kitchen.

"Good. What’s that smell?" Aegon's gaze shifts toward the kitchen as he walks further into the apartment, his nose twitching. “I’m staying at yours tonight. Shall we dine and watch Avengers?” He grabs a shrimp from the salad and pops it into his mouth, moaning in praise.

“Mm, delicious!”

You give Aemond a confused look, but he just rolls his eyes.

“He’ll just pee and leave.”

“Rude,” Aegon replies, pointing a finger at his brother. “You know how important it is to stay hydrated during a 12-hour flight?”

“Easier when you’re not hungover,” Aemond retorts, irony lacing his voice as he kicks off his white Adidas.

“You need to talk to him,” Aegon nods at you, popping another shrimp into his mouth before heading down the hall.

“Second door on the left,” Aemond calls after him as he scoops Vhagar into his arms, his demeanour softening instantly.

“Hi, girl!” he coos, pressing a few kisses into her soft fur. “I missed you too.”

You bite back a smile as the cat purrs softly.

Leaning closer to him, you pet Vhagar’s back and quietly suggest, “He can stay for dinner, you know.” Aemond shakes his head, stroking the cat under her chin.

“He’s fine.”

“Are you sure? He can’t be that bad.”

When Aemond meets your gaze, you notice the bags under his eyes, mirroring your own under the thick concealer you applied earlier. Among all the evening plans, dinner and a long rest seem the most urgent.

The door creaks open, and Aegon reappears, humming a tune.

As Aemond sets Vhagar down, she trots toward the suitcases, inspecting them with her nose, her tail in the air.

“Dine with us?” Aemond nods toward the table. “But no Avengers,” he adds firmly, making Aegon laugh.

“What’s the point, then? Nah, I’m good. All by myself,” he sings in a dramatic, high-pitched voice. “Besides, I have a dentist appointment in an hour.”

Aemond clicks his tongue, and you glance at him, amused.

“He’s got a date with a dentist he met a few hours ago.”

“Hot dentist chick,” Aegon corrects casually.

“Why do you call it a dentist appointment, then?” you ask, laughing.

He shrugs. “Well, because she’s a dentist.”

“Or maybe somebody can’t commit?” Aemond teases, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Firstly, commitment is boring. Secondly…” Aegon pauses, holding Aemond’s gaze and snapping his fingers as if in thought. “Eh, fuck whatever!”

With that, he strides toward the door. “Enjoy dinner!”

“Thanks, Aeggie! Have a great dentist appointment,” you call after him with a wink.

As the door shuts behind him, you and Aemond both let out a relieved sigh. But the door swings open again, and Aegon bursts in like a hurricane.

“And have good sex!”

The door slams shut once more.

Your laugh gets muffled against Aemond’s chest as his arms wrap around you, making you feel incredibly safe and secure. Suddenly, the apartment itself feels more like a real home.

“You survived that,” you say with a soft chuckle.

“Mm,” he hums, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I was counting the days till... this,” he whispers, inhaling deeply against your hair, as if savouring your scent. Your hands trace soothing circles on his broad back.

“Dinner?” you suggest with a smile, gazing up at him.

“Yes,” he murmurs, “but first, I need a quick shower.”

His face glows copper in the candlelight. You press your hands to your cheeks, feeling the ache from smiling all evening. Sitting inches away from him, you can’t believe your happiness.

“And then it turned out that the entire week, Baela and I were attending the intermediate class. We couldn’t figure out why yoga suddenly felt like torture,” you say, stabbing a piece of pie with your fork and taking a bite. The dessert is practically melting on your tongue. “Today is the first day I don’t actually feel sore.”

You notice the flicker of emotion in Aemond’s eyes, but he doesn’t comment on your words. Instead, he takes a bite of the pie, and you look at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Delicious,” he nods, taking another bite, making your smile widen.

“Glad to hear it!”

Glancing at the clock, you see it’s almost 10:00 p.m. Time flies so fast with him at your side. A tinge of self-reproach tells you that you should let him rest.

Rising from your chair, you start collecting plates and cutlery.

“It’s late. You need to get some sleep,” you say, walking into the adjacent kitchen and placing the dishes in the sink.

"Why don't we just use the dishwasher?" Aemond suggests.

“There are only a few plates. No need,” you reply, lathering the sponge and wiping the dishes thoroughly.

You hear the chair move against the floor; his barefoot steps are almost cat-like. As he wraps his arms around your waist, you resist the urge to lean into him.

“One more plate, and I’ll join you,” you say with a soft chuckle, but he seems to ignore your words, pressing a kiss to your temple and trailing his lips down to your cheek, then to your jawline.

“You know what else has been torture?” His husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

“What?” you ask, turning off the tap and setting the final plate aside.

“Not being able to touch you, to taste you, to feel you,” he murmurs, each word punctuated with a kiss to your neck, making you tilt your head to the side.

Your breath hitches as his hands slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your stomach before gently squeezing your breast through your bra. Your core tightens, a reminder of how needy you are. A week without his touch, and you feel like you could melt at just a few caresses. 

“Don’t you want to rest?” you ask, looking up at him. You know it’s been a 12-hour flight. You know you should insist he get proper rest. You know he never sleeps on planes. You know you'll have enough time for this.

But when his beautiful lips whisper, “I want you,” you can’t resist.

The next thing you know, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his mouth pressing urgently against yours. His tongue moves deeper, and you gladly let him in. He tastes of wine, cinnamon, and apples. Neither of you cares about the dishes clattering or the cutlery ringing as it falls to the floor.

Your hands find the hem of his white T-shirt, and you pull it off with his help.  Your T-shirt quickly follows. Trailing your fingers along his collarbones, you clasp your arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, as he nudges your hips apart. You pepper his neck and chest with tiny kisses, giving attention to every inch of his body. Perfect. He’s perfect, just for you. You lick, you kiss, you bite. You wish you could devour him completely, and mould him into your skin so he’d never leave again.

His hand tangles in your hair, massaging your scalp, and you feel like you could purr under his touch. A hiss escapes your lips as he tugs your head back, goosebumps spreading across your body at the sensation. His kisses feel wet against your neck as he sucks on your skin, leaving love marks.

His other hand unclasps your bra, and you pull away to let it fall. Your nipples harden further in the cool air. His mouth envelops one, sucking gently before nipping it with his teeth, sending a moan escaping your lips. His hand remains tangled in your hair, adjusting your position for better access, and you obediently bend to his touch, getting drunk on his touch.

“I see you’ve been doing well with your yoga classes,” his words are a gentle puff against your breasts.

“Aemond, please…”

With that, his broad hand presses you fully against the counter, your body shivering at its coldness, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your lower belly. As you prop yourself up on your elbows, your knees bend beneath his touch, your feet resting on the counter.

“Get that perfect ass up,” he murmurs, and you instantly obey. He strips off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, your body glows warmly under the kitchen light. You’d be self-conscious about your position if it weren’t for his worshipping gaze, taking in every curve and form. You furrow your brows as he steps away, only to return moments later with a chair, adjusting it with a teasing slowness right before you.

“What are you…?”

“Gonna eat my dessert,” he says bluntly, with that he settles himself on the chair, and pulls you closer by your hips, securing his hands mightily around them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the realisation of how unholy you must look, but the thought quickly drifts away as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs, giving both of them his undivided attention. Your breath hitches as you feel his breath against your heated core, your entire body prickles with anticipation.

“Fuck!” You exhale deeply as his tongue traces a line along your outer lips before burying itself inside you. Your head hits against the kitchen counter, but there’s no pain—only pleasure. Your back arches as if an avalanche is surging beneath it, making you burn. You buck your hips against his mouth shamelessly, greedily. His hand presses against your pelvis, trying to hold you in place as he devours you—faster, deeper. He feasts on you like a man starved all his life.

You choke on your moans, calling out his name like a prayer. Your nails scratch the surface while your other hand grips his soft hair, urging him to lap at you with a ferocious intensity. His groans against you send waves of electricity through your body. The unrelenting heat of his gaze never leaves you, turning you into glowing embers. You lose your mind when his nose presses against your clit again and again. The spray of light from the lamp above you blurs into a halo, as if you’re glimpsing heaven itself. For sure, the pleasure he gives you and the climax that follows are beyond anything earthly.

Your feet slide off the counter to rest gently on his lap, and he presses his hands around your shins, drawing soothing circles as he waits for you to come down from your heights. Catching your breath, you sit up, swaying slightly on the counter. Aemond’s hair is dishevelled, with a few strands falling across his forehead. His lips, full and red, glisten with your juices. You reach out to clean him with your fingers, but he captures them with a slow, deliberate suck, savouring your taste. Your breath catches. Gods, he’s so beautiful. And yours.

Letting your fingers slip from his mouth with a soft pop, he leans closer. “You know what I think?” he murmurs, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your neck, your eyes mesmerised by his lips. “That each dish you create is more irresistible than the last.”

Fuck. One phrase of his ignites a need within you again. His lips twitch into a smirk, as if reading your dirty mind, and all the things you wish to do with him, all the things you’d let him do to you.

“Shall we have another course in the bedroom?”

With that, he lifts you off the kitchen counter, carrying you toward the bedroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Vhagar dart into the kitchen toward her cat plate. You giggle softly against his chest.

“What’s funny?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone.

“Baby Vhagar was just waiting for us to leave the kitchen.”

A chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, she’s got a few good hours, for sure.”

As he sets you down on the bed, your gaze is fixed on his happy trail while your hands eagerly tug at his Nike pants. Your bottom lip is caught by your teeth at the sight of precum soaking through his fabric. You slide his briefs down, and he quickly tosses them away. His cock is thick and hard before you, and your mouth suddenly feels dry. Aemond’s hand slides under your chin, prompting you to meet his gaze.

“You remember our conversation?” His voice is low, almost a purr, making your brows furrow. You’ve had quite a few conversations over time.

A dangerous glint dances in his eyes. “The one about the nicknames.”

Heat floods your cheeks as the memory returns. Oh. Shit. You swallow hard, and he doesn’t miss it. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile.

“So, do you enjoy it or not?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, parting it just enough to push his finger inside your warmth, gathering saliva and spreading it across your mouth. A gesture that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “Do you enjoy calling me daddy?”

Your body goes still. A mix of embarrassment and arousal swells inside you, even though it’s Aemond.

“Come on, tell me,” he urges, his voice sweet and coaxing. You give him a small nod, feeling the tips of your ears burn with blush.

A sense of triumph flickers in his eyes. “I fucking knew it,” he breathes. “There’s nothing to be shy about. You can tell me any desire of yours.” His hands cradle your face now, his touch both possessive and tender. “And I’ll make sure to satisfy them. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl. You hear me?” He presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Yes,” you say, feeling unconditional love bloom inside you.

He hums in approval, and with that, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Now, will you be a good girl and come sit on daddy’s cock?”

And that question alone feels like a match striking the haystack.

As you straddle his hips, his hands fall on your waist, his blue eyes following you closely. Grabbing his shoulders, you adjust yourself. When the tip of his dick brushes against your entrance, everything within you shivers with the anticipation. Swallowing him inch by inch, you sink yourself down on his length. Your gasp is muffled in his neck at the delicious stretch, your eyes prickling with tears. He’s so fucking thick.

His voice is hoarse against your ear. “Somebody’s gonna be sore again.” 

You see his jaw muscles twitch, as if restraining himself from taking matters into his own hands and jackhammering into you, but he patiently waits for you. Catching your breath, you slowly start moving your hips up and down, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You burn under the blue of his eyes. You see passion, you see lust, you see love, and you feel like you could burst from the feeling alone. It feels so heavenly to have him inside you again.

“Keep going, keep riding my cock like a good girl,” he praises you, his gaze watches ravenously as you’re bouncing on him, your folds greedily capturing his length.

He presses soft kisses against your jawline, shifting towards your ear, sucking on it before giving it a bite.

“I bet the stretch my cock gives you can’t compare to your yoga class.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant in response, your fingers weaving through his hair, tugging as your hips move faster.  The burn in your thighs only fuels the pleasure, throwing you deeper into a haze of desire. 

Aemond's eyes riveted to the soft sway of your breasts, mesmerised by their movement. There's a hunger in his stare, one that makes your skin tingle under his attention. A moment passes before he grips your hair and pushes you back, making your back arch. His mouth latches onto a nipple, sucking it while his other hand holds you steady. 

“Fuck, I just can't get enough of these,” his voice is a low growl.  His tongue swirls and sucks on your sensitive bud before he moves to the other, lavishing it with the same eager devotion. It’s been too long since they felt such exquisite attention, and every flick of his tongue sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

As your hips angled, his cock rubs against your g-spot perfectly, making you see stars but also slowing your pace down. You need to cum. You need a release or you’ll lose your mind.

“Daddy,” you whisper so quietly, that it almost surprised he hears you.

Letting your nipple slip with a lewd pop, he asks softly, “What’s that?”

Your words come out in fragmented syllables. “My hips are…ah.. tired.”

“Mm, you wanna daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes,” you nod eagerly, making him chuckle softly in response.

In a swift motion, he lifts your hips and turns you over on the bed, never letting his cock slip from your heat. The sheets are soft against your back. As he places your right shin upon his shoulder, holding it firmly, he begins to slam into you. Leaning forward, you capture the silver chain in your lips for a fleeting moment; the metal feels cool, a stark contrast to the heat of your bodies. But your head tips back as he sets a mind-blowing tempo, he pours all the love and lust he’s been containing inside into each thrust, throwing you over the edge like only he can. Your fingers dig into his back, undoubtedly leaving pink marks against his ivory skin, and you know you’ll be kissing those tomorrow morning.  

“Such a pretty, good girl.” Your eyes flutter, as he murmurs sweet praises in your ear, as you drown in pleasure, arching against him. “Gonna cum all over my cock, won’t you?”

Your moans come out as shuddered breaths. He looks at you in awe as if he were an artist trying to memorise each micro expression to turn you into the art. Your walls spasm and contract, as he fucks you through your orgasm. Through your blurred gaze, you see his eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, sighing at the feeling of your walls taking every drop.

He stays inside you, letting your foot drop onto the bed as you feel his cock soften within you. His hand caresses your cheek, gently pulling a few naughty strands of hair from your mouth before kissing you, tangling his tongue with yours and drawing a soft moan from you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose. Your chest tightens at the sweet gesture.

“That was… Fuck!” Your eyes widen.

“I know.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He furrows his brow at you. “I mean that was great, but fuck, we didn’t blow out the candles.”

“Fuck.”

Your legs are tangled with his, one of his arms cradling you beneath your body while the other securely wraps around your waist, holding you firmly in his embrace. His soft, rhythmic breath is a soothing caress against your shoulder. As your eyes flutter open, you see Vhagar sprawled on the floor, basking in a stream of sunlight, her green eyes fixed on you. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze at the fluffy creature, whispering, "Daddy's finally home."

With a relieved sigh, you let your eyes close, a sense of peace washing over you as you drift back into delicious sleep, safe and sound in his arms.

[violet-witch-6]

Gonna be real, my first time watching THAT scene I honestly wasn’t sure how they were ever gonna patch things up because I can’t even imagine the pain of standing in Crowley’s place after 6,000 years of loving someone in silence, trying to show them who you are at every opportunity, painstakingly chipping away at the delusion they’ve bought into since the beginning (more than you ever did) in order to show them the truth—to show them who you are (who the two of you could be together) —and then just as you’ve finally worked up the courage to lay it all out there and toss the dice hoping (with what, for the first time, you’re starting to believe are less than doomed odds) that they’ll love you back and that it will be enough—only for all of it to be dragged out from under you because they look you in the eye and all but tell you that they never understood you at all. They weren’t listening. And, sure they want what you want (to be together), they love you back (still unspoken but legible in the way they glow at the thought that they might still save you) (as if you need saving) (as if you’d want it)—but not as you are. They think the change they ask of you would be received as a grace and the betrayal of that is gut wrenching in a way that no flat out rejection could be, I think. If I were Crowley, I can’t imagine how I’d come back from that.

But then I watched the scene again. The moments after that betrayal. Once Crowley’s put his glasses back on, raised his defenses and sounded the retreat. I wondered, watching the scene again, how it could ever reach the point where the kiss made sense when they were already so torn apart. But the thing is that no matter how wrong Aziraphale was to want things to go back to the “way they were”, everything that led him to that conclusion comes from the thing Crowley loves most about him: his goodness. Aziraphale is good in a way that heaven is not, and Crowley knows that, but Aziraphale still hasn’t learned that lesson. He wants so desperately still to believe in god and heaven and the ineffable plan and even though it’s that desire that’s led him to hurt Crowley, I don’t think Crowley can completely begrudge him. By the time Crowley’s walking out of the book shop, the betrayal has already faded—not gone, but less than when compared to his sadness for Aziraphale and what his angel is going to go through when heaven lets him down (again)—assuming that it doesn’t just break him.

And the kiss—that fucking kiss (be still my beating heart)—that was Crowley planting a seed. “I know better than you do” he says and he does because Crowley has always been more honest with himself than Mr. “Master class in self delusion” A. Z. Fell. Aziraphale is about to be more alone and more lost than he has been in 6,000 years, so Crowley needed to make 100% clear to him where solid ground was. Aziraphale won’t be able to rationalize this away or hide behind propriety because it can only mean one thing and that is that he is in love with a demon whose on his own side with no interest in ever rejoining the heavenly host because heaven is not the epitome of goodness or love that he so desperately wants to believe it is. It’s not even capable of being that—no matter how hard Aziraphale tries to bend it back into what he thinks is it’s natural shape (because isn’t that what he wants so desperately to do as chief archangel? To make heaven the place he’s always thought it was?). Crowley really said “whatever you do next, do it knowing I love you”. He said “I’m done letting you ignore this.” And I get it. Cards on the table means cards on the table. No more half measures no more dancing around it—any of it. If Aziraphale wants to walk into the belly of the beast, then the least Crowley can do is make sure he’s doing it with his eyes wide open.

[xo100]

Unwrapped feelings - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: At their birthday celebration, you feel upset when none of the gifts are for you. Lando reassures her of his love, making her feel cherished despite the oversight.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1494

୨ৎ

Lando Norris was the sun in her life, a constant, warm presence that filled her days with joy. She loved him deeply, and after three years of dating, her heart still fluttered when he looked at her the way he did. They were each other's best friends, sharing everything from their quiet nights at home to the busy life he led as a Formula 1 driver. Lando loved her, too. There was no question about that. He made sure to remind her with every touch, every soft kiss, and every whispered word when they were alone. But no matter how much love existed between them, there was a silent, looming cloud that she tried so hard not to notice. His friends.

They never liked her, and she couldn’t quite understand why. She wasn’t arrogant or boastful. In fact, she was quite the opposite—introverted, sweet, and often quiet, especially around large groups. She wasn't overly outgoing or dramatic, and she certainly wasn’t trying to steal Lando away from his friends. But still, whenever they were together with his friends or the rest of the team, she could feel their subtle distance. The sideways glances when she spoke, the quick change of conversation when she joined a group—it all added up.

It wasn’t as though she had never tried to bridge the gap, either. Early in their relationship, she had gone out of her way to be friendly, to make conversation, and to show interest in their lives. But the more she tried, the more it felt like she was only getting further away from them. Over time, she stopped trying so hard, and she retreated back into the quiet comfort of just being by Lando’s side. After all, he was the one she loved. As long as they were okay, nothing else should matter, right?

But it did. Even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, it hurt that the people closest to Lando—the ones he spent so much of his life with—didn’t seem to care for her. And that quiet hurt always seemed to linger at the back of her mind.

This weekend, however, was supposed to be special. A day for both of them, a moment to celebrate not only Lando’s birthday but hers as well. The idea to celebrate their birthdays together was something Lando had insisted on. They were only a few days apart, and since Lando had such a busy schedule, he suggested one big party where they could celebrate together. He even offered to host it at the McLaren Technology Centre, a place he called home and wanted to share with her.

“Everyone will be there,” he had said, his excitement bubbling over. “My friends, the team, some of the drivers. It'll be great!”

She had nodded with a smile, her heart hopeful that maybe this would be a chance to connect with everyone on a different level, in a more relaxed and festive atmosphere. Her own friends, though invited, couldn’t make the trip to England, and while she understood, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit lonely knowing she wouldn’t have her usual support system there. Still, this was about Lando too, and she wanted to focus on making sure he had the best time.

The night of the party had been a whirlwind. Lando was glowing, his energy infectious as he mingled with everyone, laughing and sharing stories. She stayed by his side for most of the night, smiling softly at his friends and the team members who came over to greet him, though she noticed the conversations were always directed toward him and never her. It stung, but she pushed the feelings aside. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

After hours of laughter, music, and food, the party wound down, and as the guests began to leave, Lando took her hand, guiding her toward a large table piled high with presents.

“Look at all this,” he grinned, his eyes twinkling as he took in the sight. “I think we’re going to need all day tomorrow to open them.”

She chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. There were a lot of gifts, far more than she had expected. She didn’t think either of them would need much, but it was still heartwarming to see how much effort people had put into celebrating them.

Or so she thought.

The next day, after a lazy morning spent in bed, they finally sat down to open the gifts. Lando was practically buzzing with excitement, while she was content to sit beside him, happy to enjoy the moment with him.

The first few presents were exactly what she had expected—personalized items for Lando. Some McLaren-themed memorabilia, a few playful gag gifts from his friends, and even a sleek, custom helmet from one of the drivers. She watched with a soft smile as he unwrapped each one, his grin widening with every thoughtful present.

But as more and more gifts were opened, a realization slowly started to creep in. Every single present was for Lando.

She tried not to let it bother her at first. After all, Lando was the one who had more friends here, the one with the larger circle. It made sense that most of the gifts would be for him. But as the pile grew smaller and not a single gift was addressed to her, the hurt became harder to ignore.

There wasn’t a single present for her.

Not one.

By the time they reached the last box, she felt her heart sink. She had tried to stay positive, tried to convince herself that maybe someone had forgotten to label a gift, or maybe they’d gotten mixed up in the rush of the party. But no. Every gift had been intentionally for Lando, and her name hadn’t even been a second thought.

“Wow,” Lando breathed as he looked at the collection of gifts surrounding them. “That was… that was a lot.”

She nodded quietly, trying to keep her smile in place. Her hands fiddled with the ribbon from one of the opened boxes, trying to distract herself from the growing ache in her chest.

“Hey,” Lando said softly, noticing her quietness. “You okay?”

She glanced up at him, his blue eyes filled with concern. She could see how much he cared, how much he genuinely wanted to make sure she was happy. It wasn’t his fault that his friends had overlooked her. It wasn’t his fault that she felt so out of place among them.

“Yeah,” she whispered, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just… happy for you. You got so many cool things.”

He frowned, clearly not convinced by her answer. “But you didn’t get anything.”

Her stomach twisted, and she hated that she was the one bringing down the mood. “It’s okay, Lando. Really. Today was for both of us, but I know how important you are to them. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, and he could tell. His brows furrowed as he scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, lifting her chin so she would look at him. “It’s not fine if you’re upset. You’re important too. To me.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn’t want to cry, not over something as silly as gifts. But the hurt wasn’t just about the presents. It was about everything—the way his friends never really accepted her, the way she always felt like an outsider in his world.

“I just…” She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I just feel like they don’t see me. Like I don’t belong here. I know I’m not outgoing or loud or… like them. But I try, and it never seems like it’s enough.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. But I promise, you do belong. You belong with me.”

His words were warm and comforting, but they didn’t erase the ache entirely. Still, being in his arms made her feel a little better. She rested her head against his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re the most important person to me,” he continued, his voice gentle but firm. “And if my friends can’t see how amazing you are, then that’s their loss. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with love for him. Lando always knew how to make her feel better, even when the world around them felt like it was crumbling.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The gifts, the party, the friends—they all faded into the background as Lando held her close, reminding her that she was loved. And in that moment, that was enough.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it. If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[rafecameronssl4t]

i remember at the start of the forced marriage that reader was smoking, so i wanted to ask, did she stop when her and rafe got married, or was it more like her still smoking, and/or hiding it from him and him finding out?

Cigarette daydreams || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Reader does end up quitting bc she’s expected to have children but I imagine Rafe to not be very expressive with his opinions about her smoking because he knows that it soothes her and understands that it’s what she needs in the moment.

Warnings: smoking, if there’s anything else, lmk!!

Word count: 1,882

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“So, how was it?” Aspyn, your long time friend, smiled warmly over the rim of her tea cup. The two of you sat outside in the garden of your coastal estate, the morning sun casting a gentle glow over the manicured lawns and flowering shrubs. You shrugged, adjusting yourself in the plush sofa, your gaze moving to the greenery of the garden.

“The meetings were tedious, honestly. And it was freezing,” you sighed, bringing the cigarette delicately cradled between your manicured fingers to your lips. You took a slow drag, letting the smoke curl from your lips, the familiar burn of the tobacco calming your nerves. “But Moscow itself? It’s beautiful,” you added, flicking the ash into the ashtray on the table next to your untouched breakfast without a second thought.

Aspyn hummed thoughtfully, the sunlight catching the highlights in her hair as she leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting over the garden. “I wish my husband would take me along on his business trips. He’s always so focused on his work,” she mused, her tone tinged with a soft sadness. She had married out of love, something you had never had the luxury to do.

You chuckled, a low sound that held little humour, taking another inhale and allowing the smoke to fill your lungs, the habit one of the few things that still brought you a sense of control. “That’s the difference between us, Aspyn,” you said, exhaling slowly. “You married for love. I didn’t.” You murmured, the smoke trailing from your lips like a sigh.

“Rafe doesn’t exactly ‘take’ me with him. I’m expected to go, whether I want to or not.” You remembered how your mother had insisted on this trip with Rafe—something about appearances and how a proper wife should always stand by her husband’s side. Even when you barely spoke to each other during the flights or shared nothing more than empty pleasantries in front of his business associates, you were there.

Always there, whether you liked it or not. It was part of the deal, after all. Aspyn’s smile faltered for a moment as she stirred her tea, the envy she tried to hide flickering across her face. Her marriage was built on love and warmth, but the wealth and status you held, the trips to exotic locations, the endless luxury—it was something she quietly envied, even if she knew your marriage was far from perfect.

“I just… I don’t know. It would be nice to see the world with him,” she admitted softly, casting a glance at the table spread before you—plates of pastries, fresh fruit, and coffee, all arranged meticulously by the house staff. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the sky met the sea. “Be careful what you wish for,” you murmured, a bitter edge creeping into your voice.

You took another long drag, feeling the familiar burn in your throat as you looked out the window at the passing cars, your thoughts already drifting back to the strained silence that would greet you when you returned home. Lucky? Maybe from the outside. But inside, you weren’t sure if luck had anything to do with it anymore. The life you led was a gilded cage, beautiful from the outside but hollow within.

A comfortable silence settled between you and Aspyn as the morning sun bathed the garden in a soft, warm light. The soft rustling of leaves accompanied the peaceful atmosphere, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mixing with the faint scent of your cigarette. It was these quiet moments with Aspyn that you cherished, where the complexities of your life could fade, if only for a short while.

Aspyn finally spoke up, her voice cheerful, easily cutting through the stillness without shattering it. That was what you liked most about her—how she could shift the conversation so seamlessly, never making things awkward. It was comforting, like a reprieve from the complexities of your own life.

“Did you hear about the new boutique opening soon?” Aspyn’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she reached for a delicate slice of fruit. You turned your head to her, taking a slow drag from your cigarette before exhaling, the smoke lazily drifting upwards. “No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly, the embers glowing at the tip of your cigarette.

“Oh my god, we have to go! There are only five stores like this around the world—one in Paris, London—” She cut herself off mid-sentence, her gaze suddenly shifting past you, her excitement dimming into something more cautious. You frowned, leaning over slightly to flick the ash from your cigarette into the nearby tray. “What is it?” you asked, a bit confused by her change in demeanour. Then her words came, slower now. “Were you… expecting Rafe?”

Your head snapped around, your heart giving a slight jolt as you saw him approaching across the garden. He moved with a quiet intensity, his sharp features unreadable as the morning sun cast shadows across his face. His sharp eyes were trained on you, and the sight made your pulse quicken—out of habit more than fear.

“Shit!” you cursed under your breath, immediately stubbing out your cigarette and blowing the smoke away as discreetly as possible, hurriedly waving your hand in front of you to disperse the lingering smoke. It was a futile attempt to mask the scent, though, and you knew he had already seen. Rafe’s sharp eyes were already fixed on you, his expression unchanging as he walked closer.

Aspyn shifted awkwardly in her seat, “He doesn’t know you still smoke?” She questions as you snap your eyes to her, “Kinda, I haven’t in front of him for awhile and so he probably thought I quit,” You quickly say before focusing you attention on Rafe. His approach measured and deliberate. He wasn’t angry—you could tell that much from his calm stride—but that didn’t mean you were free from the quiet judgment he often wielded so easily.

You’d seen that look before, the one that said he didn’t have to say a word for you to understand. “Enjoying the morning?” His voice was smooth, casual, as he finally reached the table. When his eyes flickered down to the cigarette, then back to your face, it made your stomach twist. You forced a smile, trying to maintain the illusion of calm.

“Just catching up with Aspyn,” you replied, a slight edge creeping into your voice despite your best efforts to keep it light. You desperately hoped the tension in your tone would go unnoticed, though you knew better with Rafe. His gaze briefly flickered to Aspyn, offering her a polite nod in acknowledgement before settling back on you.

“Hope you’re not overdoing it,” he said quietly, his words casual on the surface, but laced with a subtle undercurrent only you could catch. It wasn’t a direct reprimand—it rarely was with him—but the way his eyes lingered on the cigarette and then on you made your stomach tighten. The familiar look of disapproval, though not overtly harsh, always made you feel small.

You swallowed the frustration rising in your throat, the taste of tobacco still bitter on your tongue. “I’m fine,” you said, your words clipped. You pushed the ashtray away, trying to shift the focus from the cigarette to something more neutral. His gaze lingered a moment longer, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts.

It was never loud or confrontational with Rafe. He understood that the cigarettes brought you a sense of control and calm, even though he was against them, particularly now when your body needed to be in its best shape for carrying a child. His silent judgment was often more oppressive than any spoken criticism could be.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, resisting the urge to light another cigarette just out of defiance. The habit had always been a small rebellion against the constraints of your life, but under Rafe’s watchful gaze, it felt like something you needed to hide.

Beside you, Aspyn sat quietly, her usual chatter replaced with a careful silence. You could feel her curiosity, the way her eyes darted between you and Rafe, though she made no effort to involve herself. She knew when the tension between you and Rafe hung too thick to cut through, and now was one of those times.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, resisting the urge to light another cigarette just out of defiance. The habit had always been one of your escapes, a quiet rebellion against the constraints of your life. But here, under Rafe’s watchful gaze, it felt more like something to be ashamed of. You had always hated that—the way he could make something that once brought you comfort feel like another thing you had to hide.

Rafe stood there, his hands tucked in his pants as he studied you, your eyes fixated on the table. “I hope you’re ready,” he said, his voice cool and measured. You blinked, confused as you looked up at him. “Ready for what?” Rafe’s gaze flickered to your untouched breakfast on your plate, and you could feel the silent judgment in his eyes, though he didn’t linger on it. “We have another trip tomorrow. New York this time.”

Your heart dropped. “Tomorrow?” You stared at him in disbelief, shaking your head. “But we just got back from Russia,” you protested, frustration creeping into your tone. Rafe shrugged, his expression indifferent. “Business doesn’t wait.” You glanced at Aspyn, whose eyes widened slightly. She stayed quiet, clearly sensing the growing tension.

You returned your focus to Rafe, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling inside you. “I haven’t even unpacked from the last trip,” you muttered, but you knew it wouldn’t change anything. He was already mentally packed and ready to go, as always. “Then you’ll need to get started,” he said simply, his voice clipped, before turning to head back inside without further explanation.

You sat there, stunned for a moment, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. It was always the same—your life dictated by his business, your time revolving around his schedule, and any attempt to protest met with cool indifference. Aspyn shifted beside you, clearing her throat delicately. “I guess New York is next, huh?” she said softly, her earlier excitement now dampened.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you regretfully glanced at the cigarette you’d just stubbed out. “Yeah. I guess it is.” Aspyn shifted beside you, her voice hesitant. “He doesn’t like you smoking, does he?” You let out a humourless laugh, shaking your head. “No, he doesn’t. But that’s never stopped me before,” you said, though the bravado in your words felt hollow.

You could still feel the weight of Rafe’s judgment, the way his disapproval lingered even after he was gone. It wasn’t just about the cigarettes—it was about control, about the way every little decision you made somehow felt tied to him. Aspyn gave you a sympathetic look, her gaze softening. “Well, it’s not like he’s perfect either,” she offered, trying to bring some levity to the conversation, though the heaviness remained.

You smiled faintly, but your thoughts were still with Rafe and the quiet, unspoken expectations that always seemed to hang over you. Even in the smallest things, like the habit of lighting a cigarette, there was always something more. Always something unspoken between you and him.

[satorusugurugurl]

jjk men taking care of u in ur third trimester of pregnancy when things get too hard for reader???

JJK Men: When You’re Pregnant

Pairing: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Pregnant!AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: language, pregnancy themes, hormones, insecurities, fluffy!

A/N: This request was so much fun Nonnie! I love me some fluff! (I haven't had kids yet so I'm going off of movies and stuff I've read! 😅 the craving thought 100% mine from my bean I lost) 💚

Nanami Kento:

“Ugh!”

Kento heard the shout of frustration and looked up from his laptop. That sounded like his lovely wife. But it couldn't be because you were supposed to be in bed. With a soft sigh, Nanami followed the disgruntled groans from the nursery, where he found you pacing the room.

You were stunning, your baby bump straining against the fabric of your maternity shirt. A tiny onesie was resting on your bump, and you used it as a makeshift table to fold clothes. You were a stunning, glowing vision of beauty. But you should be resting in bed.

“Love, just what do you think you’re doing up?”

You jumped, dropping the onesie you held in your hands. “Ken!” you sighed, placing a hand on your lower back as the muscles strained. You scared me!” Your husband's eyes widened as you grabbed the crib, spreading your legs slightly to bend down.

“No! Darling, stop!” Nanami quickly rushed in, dropping down to pick up the onesie. You heard the doctor say you need to be resting. What are you even doing in here?”

“I need to prep the nursery.”

The keyword was needed. Not want or desired; need. And it was a word Nanami had come to know very well over the last eight and a half months. Just like you needed sauerkraut and how you needed tart frozen yogurt at two in the morning. This was your hormones and maternal instincts.

“Ah, you're nesting again.”

The nesting started simple: when you were making the nursery, building the crib, and preparing for your daughter's arrival. Not that you were so close; it seemed you were nursing again, even more now. Glancing around the room, Nanami took in the small load of fresh, dried baby clothes he had planned on folding before finding the diapers and wipes on the changing table.

“She’s going to be here soon. I know it, so I need to hurry up and get ready, " you said, feeling out of breath, which is standard these days.

Nanami could see the exhaustion on your face. He said nothing as he gently took your hand and led you to the rocking chair, helping you sit. You have a breath as you ease into it, watching your husband kneel next to you.

“Love, I understand you have this primal need to nest, but you also need to rest, and that’s the doctor's order.”

“But there’s still so much to do.”

His gentle hand reached out, copying your cheek. “And I’m here to help you. I helped make our darling girl, so I fully intend to help you with everything else.” His tongue gently caresses your cheek, sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach.

“Kento.” You whisper as big tears, dreaming down their cheeks, followed by a hiccup. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Now tell me what I can do to help.”

“I want to put all the clothes in the dresser and stock the changing table.”

Nanami wasted no time in precisely what you asked, and once that was done, he looked over his shoulder at you. “What else?”

“I wanted to clean and organize the living room.” Nanami headed to the living room, leaving you with tiny socks. Thirty minutes passed before Nanami came back into the nursery.

“All clean out there; what’s next, Love?”

For the next two hours, your husband helped you with your motherly instinct nest., no matter how minimal or massive the task was, from cleaning the bathrooms to opening all the baby bottles. Nanami never complained or looked like you were asking too much from him. He was so helpful that you felt yourself relax more until you sank back into the bed with a smile, relaxing with the pillows.

Nanami fluffed the pillows for you and covered you with a blanket. His smile was so gentle, and his eyes slowly trailed to your stomach. Seeing him smile so fondly melted your heart.

“Come here.” You tugged on his shirt, padding the spot next to you. Without asking why, your husband kicked off his slippers and hopped in bed beside you. “Thank you for all your hard work today; you put all my nerves at ease.” Gently took his hands and placed them on your baby bump. “The two of us appreciate everything you’ve done.”

There was a furnace in your husband’s eyes as he rubbed your tummy gently before leaning down, pressing a kiss between his hands. “I would do anything and everything for my girls.” Because I love them both very much. Much more than words and actions can describe.” You were about to start crying when you hissed out a wince as your daughter kicked your husband.

“I think that was her telling you she loves you too.” You whispered, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“I love her too.” Honey, brown eyes met yours. “And I love you.”

“I love you too, Kento.” That evening, you lay in bed, the house cleaned to perfection, as you and Kento lovingly waited for your darling little girl to arrive.

Gojo Satoru:

“Damn.” You cursed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You ran your hands down the white and blue floral print maternity dress you wore. People talked a lot about the first and the second trimester: the morning sickness, the cravings, the growing baby bump. But the third trimester had you looking at yourself in a different light. Your body had changed so much while you carried your son; sometimes, you barely recognized yourself, and it did not often make you feel like staying in. “Toru— do we have to go out?”

Your husband suddenly stood by your side, hand held in front of him, and eyed you up and down. “Why? Do you feel alright? Dizzy? Contractions?” You couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but he was eyeing you as if you were going to shatter. “Do I need to call the doctor?”

“No, no, no, okay, baby.” Relief tag at his mouth as he pushed his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

“Oh good, but why are you asking if we must go out? Do you not feel like going out on the date?”

Going on a weekly date has been recommended by your OB/GYN. She pretty much told you to have as much fun as you could for the next nine months because when your little boy came around, alone would be a thing that was scarce for the first few months. So, of course, you made it a point to go out and do something every Saturday morning. Your little dates were so much fun; you’d have breakfast, shop, and maybe watch a movie. But those fun little dates were beginning to make you feel more like a hassle, especially now that you were nine months pregnant and felt like the size of the house.

Every time you leave the house, the hospital bag must be loaded with you. It took you forever to put on your shoes, and every time your son decided to play kickball with your bladder, you were waddling off to the nearest restroom. Saturday morning dates were less fun, and you felt like they were more of a chore for your husband.

“I want to go, but—” you said out loud, your hands rubbing your baby bump. “I’m having a hard time putting on my shoes.”

“Oh, well, that’s a simple fix!” Your boyfriend has led you to the kitchen, where he pulled out a chair padding the cushion. “Mi, you love cheesy, my Cinderella.” He lifted your sandals, slowly slipping one on before he turned your other foot and slipped the other shoe on. Now we head to our carriage and find the finest breakfast restaurant in Tokyo.”

And you weren’t sure what it was. It could’ve been him calling you his Cinderella, or the fact your shoes were fitting a little too tight nowadays, or maybe it was the fact he was taking you to breakfast, which was something you had been craving all day yesterday. Or it could just be the damn hormones. Satoru blinked, looking up at you, and you didn’t bother to answer his question, and when he met your eyes, he was a mess with a blubbery, teary face.

“Baby? Oh sweetie, what’s wrong?” His concern only made you cry harder. “Sweetheart!”

You wiped your eyes, but no matter how hard you tried to stop, the tears ran down your flushed cheeks. “I—” hic, “I’m sorry—I just feel bad!” The chair beside you scraped against the floor, and when you could look through blurry eyes, you found Satoru sitting right in front of you, gently holding your hands. “I’m not a burden anymore. Always needing more time, I slow down is just, ugh, I’m sorry!” Satoru sat back, nose wrinkling at your words.

“Baby, what are you talking about? You’re not a burden.”

“I-I take too long to walk. You have to put my shoes on, and I constantly have to pee!”

“Sweetpea! Honey, I don’t care if I have to put your shoes on, and I’ll wait for you as long as you need me to. Plus, I hold your bags when you go to the bathroom. I don’t mind doing all those things and one million more because you’re carrying our child. You’ve been through so much: the cravings, hormones, and changes to your body. You truly are incredible.”

Satoru held his breath, watching as tears streamed down your pretty cheeks. “You don’t mind waiting for me? Even though I look like a walking house?”

“Okay, no.” Your husband’s hands flew up, copying both sides of your face. “You are not the size of the house. You’re beautiful, and I love your body. I’m not sure what kind of guy cares about shit like that. But I would love you no matter what. Whether you gain or lose weight, I love you for you.” His thumbs brushed away your tears. “You might not see it, but you are stunning.”

You sniffed, relaxing, leading into his touch. “Really?” Hesitantly, the tears finally stopped.

“Yes! My goddess, you are a radiant vision, sunshine, and human form. And you are a perfect vision.” Satoru’s continue to caress your flushed cheeks. “If I’m being honest, I love our dates on Saturday mornings because I get to be seen next to a beautiful woman like you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I think you’re confused because I feel like that with you.”

“Is that so?” Smiling as he dropped his hands to your tummy, caressing it lovingly. “Looks like our kid locked out. He’s got two hot parents.” The teasing in his eyes faded. “And he’s going to have the best mommy in the world.”

“And the best, Daddy, " you added, placing your hands on top of his.

“And he’ll be loved immensely.” Satoru pressed against your tummy before kissing your hands. “So what do you want to do, sweetheart? Do you want to go out, or would you prefer to stay in?”

“Well, seeing as you went through the trouble of putting my shoes on for me, let’s go on our date.”

Satoru fist pumps the air before placing his hand on your lower back to help steady you. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll take you to eat wherever you want.” You enter your fingers as you slowly head out of the house towards the car.

“Seeing that it’s your son, he wants French toast.”

“Yep, there’s no denying he’s mine!” Proudly announced as he squeezed your hand tightly.

Geto Suguru:

“Ow, ow, ow!” You paste around the kitchen, hands on your hips, trying to focus on anything other than the ache in your back.

Upon hearing your cries of pain, your boyfriend is around the corner, slipping on the hardwood floor. “What?! Are you okay? Is she okay?” Suguru grabbed your waist, surveying you for any injuries.

“No, we’re both okay.” Suguru visibly relaxed at your words, dropping his head slightly as he tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

“Then why were you saying ow?”

The muscles in your back, your boyfriends, they seized up, screaming in pain. “Nngh!” Your teeth together, grabbing Suguru’s wrist and squeezing as your back twitched and strained. “I-It’s just my back; our little bean isn’t so little anymore.” There was nothing but pure sympathy on your boyfriend’s face as he watched your face contort with pain.

“Oh baby,” he sighed slowly, stepping behind you. “Let me help you.”

You weren’t sure if a massage would be the best thing to do right now. Every nerve in your back was burning with red-hot pain. Laying down in bed didn’t help, and sitting on the couch made it even worse; walking around was the only thing that seemed to alleviate some of the pain.

The thoughts of his thumbs rubbing into the muscles driving you mad had you squirming out of his reach. But due to the nine-month pregnant belly, you were sporting, you weren’t able to move as fast as you had been before. Your attempted move away was futile as Suguru grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you back into his chest.

“Suguru, please don’t give me a massage right now. My back is killing me, and I feel like if you touch it, it’s going to make it worse.”

“Shh, I got you.”

You shut your eyes, waiting For the inevitable pain, as he trailed his hands down the side of your arms before sliding down over your tummy. His hands never ventured back up to your shoulders. Instead, they slid further down underneath the baby bump, resting there for a second. Realizing your back wasn’t in danger, you opened your eyes, glancing down at your tummy as dark strands of hair fell over your shoulder, hair that belonged to Suguru.

“What are—” Without giving you a chance to finish your words, Suguru gently lifted your baby bump slightly, allowing him to hold your daughter's weight, giving your back some much-needed rest. “Oooh~” the relief Washed over you like waves at the beach, “Oh, that feels so good.”

“Yeah, I’m so glad to hear that.” His thumbs brushed over a little sliver of skin as your shirt scrunched up over your tummy. “I saw this little trick online.”

You could feel the pressure being relieved from your muscles, back, and hips. Ten pounds lighter, you felt like you could finally relax with that weight your boyfriend was holding. With a happy sigh, you leaned further against his back. It felt so good.

“You are so amazing. Carrying our baby, thank you.” Soft lips gently trailed over your cheek, running over your jawline as your boyfriend held your daughter's weight off your body. “I’m so thankful for everything you’re doing for us.”

“You're welcome.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against his lips. “Thank you for being so kind and patient with me.” Your daughter stretched out, leaving you wincing again.

“I just wish there was more I could do for you.”

His words left you feeling baffled. “Suguru, you’ve already done so much. You baby-proofed the house, you put together the crib, which was a nightmare.”

“At least it wasn’t from IKEA.”

“You also go out of your way to get me anything I crave. No matter how gross it is.”

“I don't know. Your last request for hotdogs and cold cream of mushroom soup nearly took me out.”

You moaned in delight at the mention of your late-night snack from a week ago. “It was so tasty! But the point is you do a lot for me, even now,” you whispered, motioning your head towards his hands. “This is everything I had been needing tonight.” Suguru fondly smiled at you, pressing another kiss against your cheek before he began rubbing circles over your stomach.

“This is all you need, Princess?”

“Mhmm~ you, the girls, and our baby.”

“You’re sure? You would let me know if there was anything else I could do for you, right?”

You nodded your head, inhaling the earthy, minty scent that belonged to the father of your child. “I would, but I’m happily content with right here and now.” Suguru felt his smile widen as he gently began easing your bump down so he could properly turn you around to kiss you. But that was his first mistake. A rumbling growl sounded from you, and your eyes shot up toward him in the dark, warning rage.

“Don't you even think about moving your hands.”

“Oh,” He seized up at the apparent anger in your voice. “Right, sorry, baby.” As he continued to hold the baby bump up for you, he could feel the rage leaving your body as he relaxed back against him. Suguru felt like he wasn’t doing enough, but he could tell by the gentle smile that graced your pretty face that he was doing everything he needed for you at that moment. And he didn’t care how he would be standing in the kitchen holding the weight up for you as long as you both were together and happy to do whatever you needed.

Choso Kamo:

Your husband had gone missing, and you weren’t sure where he ran off. One second, he told you that he was heading outside to meet his brother for something, and the next second had turned into two, which turned into an hour, and you were beginning to wonder where exactly he was or what he had gotten himself into. Usually, this sort of thing wouldn’t have bothered you; he was always running off to do stuff with his brothers. But your little one, due any day now, was feeling restless.

They were kicking and punching you in the ribs and bladder, and the typical tricks you use to soothe the little to relax are turning out to be useless. The only thing that seemed to calm them down nowadays was Choso’s voice. He did not even need to do much; as long as he was in the vicinity for your baby to hear, they relaxed almost instantly.

You hated to interrupt his bonding time with his brother, but at the same time, he would like to sit on the couch without feeling the urge to pee, so you just went to the bathroom. The need to sleep and relax somehow fueled you to push yourself out of the recliner and begin waddling around the house in search of Choso or Yuuji.

The last time you saw them, they were heading out to the garage to talk about anything and everything, from Yuuji’s schooling to everything that still needed to be done for the baby's arrival. But all of that can wait for now; right now, you need the comfort of his voice.

Heading out to the garage side, rubbing your tummy as your precious baby shifted again, pulling out a sound of discomfort from you. You couldn’t wait for them to be born so you could hold them, and you were eager for them to stop playing Twister with the inside of your uterus. Just a couple of weeks were left, but Choso was your secret weapon in the meantime.

“Cho?” you asked, looking around the garage. “Babe?”

The car was in the driveway. Both doors to the backseat were left open. For a minute, you felt your heart rate spike because you didn’t find Choso nearby, but before you could panic over what may have happened, a flash of pink hair popped out from the car.

“I don’t think that’s right, Choso.”

“I know, it's just—” Your fiancé got out of the car, scratching the back of his head in apparent annoyance. “How do people do this?”

“I’m as clueless as you are. Maybe I should call Megumi; he’s smart. I bet he could figure it out.”

Choso gently slammed his head repeatedly against the side of the car with a sigh. “This should not be this hard.” You stood off to the side out of sight, and your restless son started to set up the sound of his father’s voice. “We need to figure this out, Yuuji.”

“Why don't we just ask Sis?” Yuuji question referring to you. “She has friends with babies, but doesn’t she have nieces and nephews, too? She would probably know how to put in a car seat.“

Oh, so that’s what they were doing out here. Poor boys had probably been struggling to put it in this whole time. Well, luckily for them, you know how to put in a car seat.

Before you could begin treading down the driveway to help them, Choso shot up, looking at his little brother from across the car. Dark strands of hair bounced as he shook his head. “No, we’re going to figure this out.” you and Yuuji eyed Choso with confused looks.

“Why not Cho?”

“Because she needs all the rest she can get. She hasn’t been sleeping well, but I can do this. I want her to rest. I want to help out with things like this. It’s at least I can do.” the fondest smile plastered his mouth. “Since she’s carrying our baby.”

“Oh, Choso,” you whispered, fighting my tears. He’s been so sweet and attentive during the pregnancy, but he’s been putting in all the effort for the last few weeks. He was cooking, cleaning, taking care of you, packing the hospital bag himself, and, on top of all that, cooking all the meals, making sure he was tending to everything for you. Not a day passed that you didn’t receive a foot or back massage. Was it even possible to fall deeper in love with a man you would spend the rest of your life with?

Yes, it was.

Although the tears were blurring your vision, you could see the understanding on the younger boy's face. “I guess that makes sense.” Yuuji stretched his arms above his head. “But can we please call Megumi?” your fiancé nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that's fine.”

Seeing that they both had it under control, you quietly snuck back into the house and relaxed on the couch. Another thirty minutes passed before Choso came back inside. He had a wide smile on his face as he sat down on the couch next to you, pressing a kiss against your lips before kissing your tummy.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi,” Choso rested his head on your stomach, his eyes shutting as he felt your son move. “We got the car seat set up. So we’ll be all set for when the day comes.”

Your fingers toyed with his hair, brushing his dark strands back. “Yeah? Thanks for doing that; it wasn't too difficult, was it?” He turned his head slightly to look up at your face.

“Nope!”

“Good,” you looked back towards the garage, “did Yuuji leave?”

“He went to pick us dinner with Megumi; they should be back soon.”

A comfortable silence grew between you as you ran your hands further down his back. “Cho, thank you for taking such good care of us. And thanks for all your hard work.” Choso’s arms snaked around you, holding you as he shook his head.

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“Me?”

“For making me the happiest man in the world, for making me a father, for being my future wife.” His eyes were so warm and full of adoration, “You complete me. So yes, thank you, I love you.”

You couldn't help but grin as you watched him close his eyes. ”I love you too, Choso; we both do.” His smile was contagious as you found yourself following his lead, drifting off to sleep. It was the kind of sleep that was hard and peaceful because you knew you and your son were safe with Choso.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[a-leg-without-fear]

No Fucking Way (pt.1)

have some absolutely adorable interactions with you and the students at the mansion (and a surprise guest)

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 4.1k

Warnings: cursing, mentions of animals neglecting their babies, and a story so sweet my teeth hurt

Inspiration: This scene from X2: X-Men United

Series: No Fucking Way

Your feet pounded against the gravel path beneath you. Small rocks and dirt were kicked up by your well-worn sneakers. Warm sweat dampened the cloth of your sweatshirt around your arms and chest. The sun beat down on your flushed face as a cold breeze bit across your nose. 

It was an absolutely gorgeous, autumn day. Occasional spotted clouds glided at a snail’s pace across a great blue sky. Soft breezes made the great trees surrounding the mansion dance like sheets of amber linen. Red and orange leaves skittered across the yellowing grass fields.

You saw a handful of students out on the lawn enjoying the early morning air. Sybil, a brunette with the ability to see through others’ eyes, sat beneath a large willow by the fish pond with a notepad in her hands. Vienna sat beside her. A strawberry blonde, bright eyed girl who could channel electricity into the palms of her hands. The two exchanged ideas about whatever Sybil was jotting down in her notepad.

Yuna sat not too far from the whispering pair, fingers twirling above a quickly constructed tower of stones and blades of grass. Her usual deep brown eyes now glowed a subtle violet. The maroon hijab she wore wrapped around her neck matched the crimson hues of the changing leaves in the trees around her. 

Jane, a kind-eyed tracker, Matt, a red glasses-wearing fighter, and Mads, a short-haired plant bender, sat in a circle, enjoying their morning coffee and tea together. You gave Mads a quick wave as you jogged past, receiving a warm smile and a shower of flower petals left in your wake.

The gravel path led along the left side of the mansion. Emerald ivy crawled up the brick walls like arms reaching from the earth. An occasional window broke up the light colored bricks. Most had their curtains drawn, which you attributed to a large portion of the students being late risers. One or two had the curtains open to allow fresh sunlight into the shared rooms.

You caught a glimpse of Sapph through one of the windows. Her bright smile and blue eyes were almost radiant as she basked in the streams of sunlight. Vases of sunflowers sat on the windowsill in front of her. The light seemed to bend, refracting from Sapph’s palms and hitting the sunflowers’ leaves.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The students were happy, the day was beautiful, and you only had one more lap of the mansion to jog before you’d call it a day.

“MAAAOOOWWW!”

You stopped just short of the empty basketball court. The crimson asphalt was covered in crunchy leaves and green brush from the nearby bushes. Corded nets hanging from the steel hoops swayed in the breeze. You looked around you, trying to find the source of the noise.

“MaaooOOW?”

There it was again. Closer than before. It sounded like it came from an incredibly small source, whatever it was. Your sneakers crossed onto the asphalt, toes kicking at leaves and twigs. You let your eyes scan the area around you. The court was surrounded by a wall of hedges. About waist high to you, it helped keep the court clear of too much debris from the trees. 

The mansion sat against the hedges. Large, bay windows looked into a sitting area. Hira, a telepath, sat in one of the plush leather armchairs with a novel in her hands. A white hijab wrapped around her head, glasses peeking out over light brown eyes. Daniel, a light-haired strongman, and Jacob, a bearded speedster, sat on the green-clothed couch across from Hira. Dice and rulebooks laid on the coffee table in front of them.

A rustle in the hedges to your left drew your focus from the students inside. The lowest branches shuddered, small green leaves shaken off and falling to the ground below. You knelt on the asphalt and strained your eyes to see through the dense foliage.

“MoowwWOAAOW!”

That was the only warning you got before a tiny gray and white fur ball burst out of the hedge and landed five feet in front of you. Pointed ears folded back, blue eyes widened, arched back covered in long fuzz.

A kitten. A small, angry, fluffy kitten. No more than a few weeks old. 

You remained where you kneeled on the asphalt, palms upturned and resting on your thighs. You kept a neutral expression on your face as you blinked slowly at the small creature.

After a few moments the kitten relaxed. Its ears faced forward, tail sticking straight up as it approached you. You gingerly extended a hand for it to sniff. Its tiny, pink nose ran across the tips of your fingers as it grew acclimated to your presence.

“Hi, little one,” you said through a barely subdued, ecstatic grin. You had always wanted a cat. Ever since you were a kid, you dreamed of a tiny ball of purrs curled up in your lap and effortlessly improving your mood. Not to mention they were ridiculously easy to take care of.

The kitten took a few more moments to sniff at your fingers. Its tiny eyes squinted as it seemed to devote its entire being to assessing your threat level. Once it seemed satisfied, it rubbed its chin across your thumb. You could already feel the purrs rumbling in its throat.

It took everything in you to not explode from the cuteness overload. This little thing, this tiny itty bitty little thing, chose you. You could feel a swell of pure adoration overtake your chest, the gentle warmth spreading from head to toe.

The cat continued to rub on your hand, occasionally nibbling on your fingers with the sides of its mouth. You lifted your free hand in an attempt to pet the kitten. Moving slowly to not startle it, you gently ran your fingers across its fluffy back. An explosion of purrs, like a hive of angry bees, met your affection. The cat dug its little head into the palm of your hand. You took the hint, giving it gentle scratches on the soft spots by its ears.

“You are the cutest fucking thing I’ve seen in my life,” you breathed in astonishment. The cat seemed to enjoy the compliment, pawing at your hands and attempting to climb closer to your face. You scooped its tiny body in your hands and lifted it to your chest.

Tiny paws kneaded at the fabric of your sweatshirt. Little needle-like claws pulled at the threads. The kitten looked up at you with squinted eyes. You carefully rose to your feet, doing your best to not jostle the miniature creature cradled to your chest.

The cat nestled into the crook of your neck. Its tiny nose puffed against your skin while a category-5 purricane buzzed in your hands.

You would die for this cat and you just met it a minute ago.

Mentally saying “fuck it” to the rest of your jog, you began to gingerly walk back inside. You avoided walking on the gravel to make as little noise and sudden movements as possible. The cat seemed to appreciate the gesture, with what miniscule amount its tiny brain could comprehend, as a small lick from its rough tongue passed over your neck.

You garnered a few sideways looks from the students on the lawn as you walked by again. Mads cocked her head, fairy themed earrings jingling, at the gentleness in your step and the backtracking in your path.

“You alright, ma’am?” she called out. Jane and Matt perked up at Mads’s exclamation. Jane looked up at you with curiosity written in her features while Matt’s dark brows furrowed.

A quick gesture to the buzzing fur ball in your hands was all the trio needed. Their expressions quickly shifted from confusion to utter joy. They whispered among themselves about the newest addition to the mansion as you passed by.

That method is how you seamlessly moved through the bustling early-risers inside the foyer. One perplexed look was met with a nod to the kitten in your hands and the students parted like the Red Sea. Excited murmurs spread through the students like wildfire. “Is that a cat?” “Oh my god, kitty!” “It’s so cute!” “I hope we can keep it!”

The last student you passed before reaching your destination was Bella, a time manipulator. She was just on her way out of the professor’s study, closing the heavy oak door behind her. A kind smile met yours when she looked in your direction. 

“Morning, ma’am. Need to see the- Wait, is that a cat?” she asked, eyes widening.

“Shhh. Yes, it is. Could you open the door for me?” you whispered. Bella lifted her first finger to her mouth, winking to indicate she understood, then twisted the brass knob and swung the door open before you.

“Good luck,” she whisper-yelled after you.

A grand office stood before you. Comfortable leather settees were positioned in front of a solid, mahogany desk. Rows and rows of bookshelves filled to the brim lined the walls. Trinkets and remembrances decorated available surfaces and empty wall space.

The professor, or Charles Xavier as you knew him, sat in his motorized wheelchair behind the large desk. His hairless head was lowered, blue eyes darting across the pages of a copy of House of Leaves. A single finger raised next to his aged face to acknowledge your presence.

“One moment, please. From both you and your new friend,” he said. A minute passed, seconds counted by the paws kneading into your shoulder, before Charles closed the book and met your gaze. A warm smile matched your enthusiastic one, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I found this little guy outside,” you began. The cat perked up at the mention of itself, eyes blinking up at you then looking at the professor. You ran a finger under the kitten’s chin as you continued, “He was an angry little fella, all bushy tailed, but he warmed right up to me. He was hiding in the hedges by the basketball court.”

“Ah, I see,” Charles replied. He lowered a hand to maneuver his wheelchair. The low buzz of the machinery heralded his movement as he rounded the desk to sit in front of you and the cat.

“I didn’t see any other cats around, but the good news is he seems to be old enough for solid food,” you said. The cat blinked slowly at the professor, its little nose sniffing the air in front of it.

“It seems his mother abandoned him. Weaned him off her too quickly and left him stunted. Poor thing,” Charles said, head tilting and lips pulling into a slight frown. You gawked at him.

“You can read the cat’s mind, too?” you asked. The abilities of the mutants around you never ceased to amaze. Especially one as powerful as Charles Xavier.

He smiled at the kitten, oblivious to your gawking, stretching out his hands to you, “May I?”

You gently lifted the cat off your chest, prying the tiny talons from your sweatshirt, and placed the furball in the professor’s hands. Charles lifted the cat to his chest and ran a gentle hand down its back.

“You’ll need to wake Rogue and Bobby, have them run to the pet store down the road. This one will need plenty of love and nourishment if he’s to thrive,” he said. You stared at him, dumbstruck.

“We can keep him?”

“He can stay, as long as he likes. Much is the same with the rest of those who live here,” Charles clarified. The little gray kitten nuzzled against Charles’s chin, the professor’s smile growing.

“Okay. Okay! Yes! I’ll go get Rogue and Bobby,” you said, absolute jubilation filling your lungs. 

You left Charles and the cat to continue their telepathic conversation as you raced up the giant, double staircase. Ornately carved wooden banisters ran along the edges of the stairs, polish shining in yellow circles from the chandeliers hanging on the ceiling. When the stairs divided into two sets, running opposite directions, you cut to the right. Your feet skipped over carpeted steps in your haste to reach your destination.

Once your sneakers landed on the second floor, you broke into a jog down the hallway. Door after wooden door flew by you on both sides of the hall. Paintings of peaceful landscapes and glowing sconces lined the wooden walls. A large window sat in the white wall at the end of the hall. Daylight streamed in and cast golden spots on the wood floors.

You stopped at the last door on the left. Rapping three quick knocks on the door, you bounced on your toes. There was a cat in the mansion. A cat! One that would live with you! You silently thanked whatever god it was that decided for you to be next in the cat distribution system.

It took another set of knocks on the door for you to hear movement on the other side. Bleary groans and rustling sheets leaked through the cracks in the door. You bit your lip in an attempt to quell your excitement.

The doorknob turned and a ruffled-looking Rogue appeared in the doorway. Dark hair just barely smoothed down, eyes squinted, robe hastily thrown over a nightgown.

“Vampire? Shit, what time is it?” she asked, grogginess laced in her tone.

“Doesn’t matter. We have a cat,” you said. Your smile widened as you waited for her response. Rogue eyed you, up and down, as she assessed her living alarm clock.

“Logan’s not a cat. We’ve been over this,” she said. She exhaled a puff of air through her lips to blow at the white bangs that fell over her eyes. You rolled your eyes playfully at the jab.

“Not Logan this time. An actual cat. A kitten,” you explained. Rogue’s eyebrows rose as her eyes widened.

“Wait, there’s a cat?” Bobby called from beyond the door. His blonde head popped up beside Rogue’s. The couple seemed to be much more awake now.

“Yup,” you said, annunciating the p. Bobby and Rogue looked at each other, smiles growing, before looking back to you. 

“Where is it? Can we see it?” Rogue asked.

“Charles needs the two of you to run and get cat stuff first. Like food, litter, toys. Anything you can think of,” you replied. At the first sign of them objecting, you continued, “You guys can get literally anything you want. Treats, cat towers, little obstacle courses. Just make sure it’s safe for a younger kitten.”

“We’re on it, boss!” Bobby said, happiness palpable and blue eyes sparkling, as his hand clapped on Rogue’s clothed shoulder.

“100%. This cat will be spoiled rotten,” Rogue confirmed. With that situation squared away, you gave the pair a quick nod, beaming at them, then took off back down the hallway.

The run back to the professor’s office was an even shorter journey due to you jumping down several steps at a time. A few students looked gravely concerned at your acrobatics. Especially Ash, who helped Jean with patching students up by being a walking pain-reliever.

Your hand caught on the doorframe of Charles’s office and you swung into the doorway, breathless. He and the cat were much like how you had left them. Tiny gray body tucked against his neck, both having their eyes closed.

“Bobby and Rogue are on their way out,” you said. Charles hummed in response, eyes falling open.

“This one’s taken a shine to you, my dear. Says you’re the first to treat him kindly,” he said, a proud smile painted across his face. You let out an incredulous laugh.

“Guess he really is one of us, huh?”

“More than you know,” Charles said through an amused chuckle. You approached the professor and ball of cuddles carefully, attempting to not disturb the little creature.

“Mrrpp?” the cat trilled. It squinted at you from beneath Charles’s chin, paws kneading into the back of the professor’s hands. You could almost hear its purrs from where you stood.

“Does he have a name?” you asked. You scratched beneath its furry chin as the cat stretched out its jaw into your hand. 

“I was hoping you might know one,” Charles said. He pressed the cat into your hands and you gladly scooped the little ball of love into your arms. You could feel the purrs emanating from the cat’s belly vibrate against your chest. Tiny, thin whiskers tickled along the underside of your jaw.

“Jeez, uh. I don’t know. Let me think on it,” you responded. It was hard to think when all of your focus was drawn to the fluffy creature cradled in your hands. Charles chuckled at your indecision.

“I’m sure whatever you choose, our newest student will happily respond to it,” he assured. He used his now free hands to dust cat hair off his crisp, navy blue suit. As you turned to walk out, Charles said, “Make sure to give him a bath. This young one’s lived outside for far too long.”

“Will do,” you said. You shifted your arms so you could better support the cat on your chest, then set a course for the upstairs bathroom closest to your and Logan’s room.

It seemed the news of a cat on campus had spread throughout the student body. A large crowd had gathered outside of Charles’s study. Students, an array of ages and stages of dress, craned their necks over their peers to try and catch a glimpse. 

“I wanna see!” Addie, a platinum blonde seven-year-old who could speak any language, called up from the space next to your hip. Your legs were framed by her and Ryan, a nine-year-old brunet with impenetrable skin. 

“Guys, the cat is very small. He needs quiet!” you said, voice coming out as a stage whisper. A hush fell over the group in front of you. Wide, hopeful eyes blinked up at you. You sighed, untucking the cat from the crook of your neck and holding him in front of you. At the sight of the small bundle of fur in your hands, a buzz of excited whispers passed from ear to ear. 

“Does he have a name?” Ryan asked. An echo of agreement sounded around the crowd.

“Not yet, so everyone start brainstorming!” you said. A renewed vigor filled the conversation as names were debated back and forth between students. You used the distraction to slip away, climbing back up the stairs and baring left this time.

This hallway was nearly identical to the one on the opposite side of the stairs. Wooden paneling covered the walls, patterned red carpet stretched down the middle of the floor, potted plants sat here and there. You knocked once on the first door to the right. Receiving no answer, you pushed it open.

Inside was a full bathroom. White tiles lined the walls and floor, the grout a cool gray. Warm patterned shower curtains hung from a steel rod suspended between two walls. A vanity mirror hung on the wall opposite the door. You flicked on the light switch, making the three globes above the mirror glow and send dancing reflections throughout the bathroom.

“Alright, fella. Let’s get you clean,” you said as you sat the cat in the sink. His little, furry body looked like a small sponge sitting in the white porcelain. A confused face looked up at you through squinted eyes.

“Mraow?”

“Yeah, I know. You’re not gonna like this part,” you responded. You leaned over, opening the white cabinets below the sink, and pulled out the unscented shampoo Logan liked to use. Straightening up, you noticed the cat had remained where you sat it. Prim, proper, posture like a little gentleman.

You smirked, scritching the top of his head between his ears. His face tilted up into your touch. 

“Such a sweet little guy,” you cooed. You gave him a few more well deserved pets before scooping his little body and turning on the faucet. You made sure the handle was turned to a warm, not hot, setting and the pressure was nice and low. 

The cat startled a bit in your palm at the sudden rush of water. A little paw raised, batting in the air between him and the running water. You dipped a finger in the water and brought it to his nose for proper inspection. A few sniffs, a couple licks, then his chin was rubbing on your fingertip again.

You took it as a good sign, dipping the same hand back under the faucet and letting the water coat your skin. Once enough water had gathered in your hand you lifted it to the cat’s back. He tracked your movement. Small, squinted eyes followed your hand as you placed your palm on his back. You felt the water droplets sink into the fluffy, gray fur and soak into his skin.

“This ok?” you asked, like the cat could give you an answer. The small creature blinked up at you. He seemed unbothered by the moisture. You gave him another palm-full of water to get him adjusted to the temperature, the sensation. Not a peep from this little sir.

You set the cat back in the sink, just the tail end of his back beneath the running faucet. He hunkered down into the smallest loaf you’d ever seen. Front feet tucked under his fuzzy chest, tail curled around his side, eyes blinking slowly up at you. You cupped water in your palm and let it run through his fur. Before too long you had a drenched, buzzing kitten in the sink.

“You are the strangest creature…” you wondered aloud. You popped the lid open on Logan’s shampoo and lathered up your hands. Thankfully, you didn’t spot any fleas or other parasites hopping on the kitten’s body. Washing out the dirt and grime shouldn’t take too long.

“Why are you hunched over the sink with my soap?” a gruff voice said from behind you. You smiled, looking over your shoulder.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you greeted. Logan leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. He wore his trademarked white tank top and loose jeans buckled with a brown belt. His dark hair was fluffy and unstyled, long strands hanging in front of his wrinkled eyebrows.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. He pushed off the wall and stepped up next to you, his boots clipping on the tiles.

“Right. So, funny story,” you began. You ran your soapy fingers through the cat’s soaked fur. Logan’s hip leaned on the counter as he continued to stare at you. Jutting your chin down at the sudsy feline, you continued, “I found this guy outside and he made me think of you.”

“Made you think of…” Logan trailed off when his hazel eyes landed on the kitten.

“You know, with his cat ears,” you explained. You scrubbed at the kitten’s purring body while Logan spluttered next to you.

“Cat ears?!” 

“Yeah. Those hair floofs you get when you style your hair. They look like cat ears,” you said. You pretended to ignore the pure indignation spouting from the man next to you. A knowing smirk stretched across your lips.

“I do not have cat ears,” Logan argued.

“Yes you do!” Rogue shouted, voice echoing down the hall.

Your indifferent mask broke as you doubled over, cackling. The cat’s head tilted as it watched your face disappear below the counter. Logan huffed, arms folding over his chest again.

It took you a few moments to regain your composure. Giggles bubbled up your throat everytime you glanced back at Logan next to you. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he grumbled. But, because you knew him so well, you could see the smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

You cleared your throat, squaring your shoulders to rinse off the cat sitting patiently in the sink. Warm water trailed through your fingers and washed away the suds gathered on the kitten’s body. Squinted eyes watched you, blinking slowly and serenely, purrs vibrating against your hands.

“Happy little fuzzball, isn’t he?” Logan said. The kitten turned its head to peer at Logan. You ran a wet finger between its ears, smoothing the fur back and washing soap away.

“He certainly is,” you hummed. When an idea popped in your head, you felt your grin widen and your gaze slip over to Logan next to you, “You know, he still needs a name.”

“So name him,” Logan replied instantly. A tentative, large hand reached into the sink and ran two fingers down the cat’s soaked back. The kind and delicate gesture only further solidified your idea.

“Actually… I was hoping you could name him.”

Logan’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, relaxed expression melting into pure confusion.

“What?” he asked.

this short story is kind of a tribute to the lovely, lovely folks in the murdock tuna team. i have nothing but love and an endless stream of thanks to give to them. you all have inspired me to be a better artist, a better author, a better person. love you, blob blob 🐟