#LOVE IS A DOG!! YOU HAVE TO TIE IT UP IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE BITTEN!!!!!

[redroomreflections]

When in Bloom

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

10/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 7.9k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha makes the ultimate sacrifice.

Note: I spent my entire Sunday writing this. I paused and rewound the movie 50 times. I utilized ChatGPT to help me with timelines. I read the script. I pulled out all the resources to ensure I did my big one for y'all. Special shoutout to Grammarly Premium for making my writing look and sound professional-like. Enjoy =)

Breakfast was always something Natasha found important. In her mind, it was more than just a meal; it was the fuel that powered her through the day. She never skipped it, a rare and comforting constant in her life. Even now, in a quiet city apartment far removed from the chaos of her past, the ritual of making breakfast each morning grounded her.

In the Red Room, food was always viewed strictly as fuel, something utilitarian and calculated. She never spoke much about those years, especially not with Nicky—he was still too young to understand, and she didn’t want that darkness clouding his view of her. But she could remember the harsh regimens, the rigid routines, the lessons drilled into her: taking care of herself wasn’t a luxury; it was mandatory. A weak Widow was a liability; weakness was something she had never been allowed to show.

She tried not to think too deeply about what her training had left her with—it was just one more thing in a long line of things that had happened to her.

"Mama, I'm almost ready," Nicky shuffled to the room with his laces untied and jacket hanging from his body. Ollie walked with him at his tail. He sat next to Natasha, looking up with big, hopeful eyes.

"I don't have anything for you, sweet boy," Natasha smiled apologetically. Ollie whined and laid his head on the floor. Natasha turned away from the dog to inspect Nicky. He was sitting on the floor, his hands attempting to tie his laces as his little tongue stuck out.

"What do you need, Myshka?" Natasha asked, and Nicky held his foot up.

"I can't do the knots, they're too small."

Natasha smiled and tied his shoes. She stood up, and Nicky followed suit, his coat fully zipped and his backpack slung over his shoulders.

"Can we stop for hot chocolate on the way to school?"

"I made breakfast," Natasha shook her head.

"Eggs and toast again?" He asked as he sat at the table.

"Eggs and toast," Natasha nodded. It was all she knew how to make without burning.

"Okay," Nicky sighed, "but I want a donut tomorrow."

Natasha rolled her eyes.

"We'll see," she answered.

"It's a promise!" He said.

"You know how I feel about those," she chided. "I don't make them unless I can follow through."

Nicky dug into his eggs and toast with a resigned but good-natured sigh; Natasha sat across from him, her phone buzzing softly on the table. She’d promised herself that breakfast would always be their time, uninterrupted, but the messages were piling up.

Okoye: "Natasha, we’re seeing unusual cartel activity in Mexico City. I think it’s Barton."

Rhodes: "Saw the same. We have casualties this time—he’s not holding back anymore. Might be time to intervene."

She rubbed her temples, reading over each message carefully. It had been like this for months: catching glimpses of Barton’s brutal one-man war, getting vague reports, but never close enough to reach him. And each new incident seemed to confirm what she already knew—Clint was spiraling, slipping further away with every mission.

Nicky munched on his toast, his little eyes flitting between her and Ollie, who was sulking on the floor. She gave him a quick smile, trying to shake the tension out of her shoulders, and typed a response.

"I'm on it. I'll be at the compound in an hour," She typed.

"Who's that?" Nicky asked, his eyes still watching Ollie.

"A friend," Natasha said, putting her phone down. "They're working on a case."

"The Avenger kind of case?"

"Exactly the kind," she nodded.

"Can I go on a mission with you someday?"

"Hmm, you have to finish first grade and learn to tie your shoes," She said. "Then we can talk."

Nicky finished the rest of his breakfast, and Natasha helped him clean up and get his backpack ready. As she grabbed her jacket, Natasha saw a message flash from another chat, this one from Nora.

Nora: "Hey, are we still on for tonight? Let me know what you’re in the mood for."

They’d only met a few months ago, but Natasha was easing into an unlikely friendship with Nora. They both tried to ignore the fact that they'd almost slept together. Their camaraderie was something she needed during this time. Someone who didn't know her world. Someone as a listening ear.

She hadn’t told Nora much about her past or work—what she could share, anyway—but Nora seemed to sense her guardedness and never pressed for more.

Natasha quickly typed back:

Natasha: "Still on for tonight. Maybe something low-key? Let’s catch up."

She tucked the phone into her jacket pocket and helped Nicky and Ollie out of the apartment, locking the door behind them.

Their walk to his bus stop was uneventful. Nicky counted the steps to the corner, babbling to her about something she had no idea about. Traffic at this time was nonexistent, especially after the Snap. It was just her, Nicky, and Ollie walking, their steps in sync.

"Remember your homework and ensure you're practicing your cursive," she reminded him.

"I know, I will," Nicky huffed.

"Have a good day at school," Natasha said, crouching down to Nicky's level. "I love you, always."

"Love you too," he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Bye, Ollie!"

He ran off, his backpack bouncing with him, as he met the other children at the bus stop. The bus rolled in, and the children all piled in. Natasha stayed until the doors shut, and the bus disappeared from her view.

This was their normal.

********

The training room was quiet, and the soft hum of electricity was all around her. She could hear the shuffling of her feet and the clank of the bag as it hit the floor.

It had taken Natasha a while, but she found her rhythm again. She stood in front of the mirror, wearing a simple black shirt and sweatpants, her feet grounded to the floor as she pulled her hair into a tight, controlled bun. Her fingers moved with practiced precision, twisting and pinning the strands into place as if the routine and discipline would quiet the noise in her mind. Every movement felt deliberate, a small act of control.

The soft padding of her shoes across the floor felt comforting as she moved to the center of the room. She stretched, her arms reaching above her head, bending into a series of quiet, fluid motions. There was a certain peace in this, a kind of grace she hadn’t known she needed until she found it again.

She moved through pirouettes, the motion sharp and fluid before she landed softly back onto the floor. Natasha paused, standing tall, breathing steady. She was a soldier. A leader. A mother. But for this moment, she was just a woman, letting her body regain balance.

When she had the time, she would sit in this training room. Sometimes, she'd cry. Other times, she would dance when her mind and body needed it.

Today, she'd danced.

Her hands came up in a strong pose, her right leg pointed, and her left hand raised.

The music started with a quiet melody.

Her muscles remembered. Her body knew what to do.

Natasha took a deep breath, and then she began to dance.

The ache in her chest seemed to tighten with every motion, a dull, constant throb she couldn't shake. It wasn't the physical exhaustion, the burn in her legs from stretching too far, too long—it was the grief, the absence, a constant reminder of what had been taken from her.

The anniversary was coming up. Eight and a half years together. She tried not to think about it, but the numbers wouldn't leave her alone. Five years lost. It felt impossible to imagine what those years might have been. What would life be like now if it were not for the Snap? If not for the universe tearing itself apart?

Stella would be nine. Natasha could almost picture it: a small girl with dark, wild curls and an infectious smile. Her eyes would have sparkled with the same mischief as you. She would have been old enough to start thinking about her future and to ask questions that Natasha would have been too tired to answer. But you'd have done it together, as a family.

Natasha stopped suddenly, her foot hitting the ground hard.

A lump had formed in her throat, and the tears threatened to spill.

The pain was like a knife, a sudden, violent stabbing deep inside.

There may have been another baby by now. Maybe she'd have been thinking about balancing the mission, the children, the quiet mornings, and the long days filled with reports and decisions. She'd have retired by now. She'd have given up avenging, given up this life of constant motion, just to hold onto the people she loved.

Her mind wandered, remembering how you’d looked when you held Stella for the first time, the joy in your eyes as you held that tiny life. Natasha wanted to hold onto that memory. She wanted to feel the weight of her daughter in her arms again. But she couldn’t.

Her foot faltered as she spun, the motion too sharp and quick. She caught herself, steadying on one leg before continuing the movement. Her body knew the steps. It was the heart that was falling behind. She could push through it—she always had.

But today, the ache felt too much to ignore. She wished for a moment that she could turn off the grief, pretend that it wasn’t there, that it didn’t eat at her every time she saw a family or a couple. Every time she saw a child running through a park or a mom at the grocery store. Every time, she thought about the future she would never have.

*********

Natasha sat among the ring of holo-screens, only half listening to the chatter from each team member. Rocket, Carol, Okoye, Nebula, and Rhodey spoke, trading updates and frustrations across the galaxy. She held a small peanut butter container in her hand, absentmindedly scooping out spoonfuls as she listened. The sandwich in front of her remained untouched. The familiar, salty taste grounded her, though it did little to quell the churn of thoughts spiraling within her.

The screen shifted to Rocket, whose frustrated voice was loud and clear.

Rocket's voice rang from the Halo. "So, thanks for the hot tip."

Natasha smirked a little despite herself, watching the banter continue between him and Carol. But her mind kept flickering back to the breakfast she'd rushed with Nicky, how she'd promised him she’d be home after her day at the compound. She'd need Nora to pick him up from school again.

Carol’s voice cut through the chatter. "The things that have been happening on Earth have been happening everywhere else. On thousands of planets. You might not see me for a long time."

Natasha swallowed another spoonful of peanut butter, feeling the weight of Carol's words settle over her. It was a reminder of just how enormous this loss was—this endless damage, stretching farther than anyone could have imagined. She’d stayed, kept her footing here, but even her little world seemed to be slipping. Her family was fractured, Barton somewhere out there in the shadows, and her friends scattered across the world, each dealing with their own aftermath.

"All right. Everybody keep keeping their eyes open... This channel’s always active. Anything goes sideways, anyone makes trouble where they shouldn’t, it comes through me." She said.

One by one, the screens blinked out, each goodbye leaving her feeling slightly lonelier. Only Rhodey remained. She knew what he’d say before he even started.

"Federalés found a room full of bodies outside Juarez. Cartel guys... Guns still in their pants. Same MO as Marseille. And Kiev."

Her chest tightened, the peanut butter sticking in her throat. She nodded grimly, acknowledging what she'd known was coming but dreaded to hear.

"It’s definitely Barton," Rhodey said.

The confirmation settled in her like a lead weight. Clint was too far gone, and whatever had driven him to this point was something she couldn’t pull him back from—not yet. Her fingers clenched the spoon tighter, and she stared at the empty container. She’d been so focused on keeping things together, on somehow pulling everyone else back into orbit, that she hadn’t noticed just how close she was to breaking herself.

"What he’s done here...what he’s been doing...I got to tell you, part of me doesn’t want to find him." Rhodey continued.

Natasha let out a long breath, steadying herself. She had to keep it together for Nicky, Clint, and everyone else who still counted on her to lead them through this unsteady world.

"Find out where he’s going next." She fought through the tears to hold it together. She took a bite of her sandwich, hoping to ease her tears, before dropping it onto the plate.

Rhodey nodded, the screen flickering off, leaving her alone. She rubbed her eyes, letting herself sink back for a long, quiet moment. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there when she heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"I’d offer to cook you dinner, but you seem sad enough already."

She looked up, eyes weary, but a small smile breaking through. Steve could always tell.

Natasha turned to see Steve standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched her.

"Come by to do your laundry?" she asked, arching a brow.

"And see a friend," he replied.

She forced a small smile. "Your friend’s fine."

Steve raised an eyebrow, his expression softening with the familiar look he reserved for her. "She leave the house today?"

"Nothing out there I particularly want to see."

"I spotted a pod of whales coming over the bridge," he said, almost wistfully. "Closer to the city than I’ve ever seen them."

A faint, half-hearted smile tugged at Natasha’s lips. "Guess nature’s making a comeback, huh? Nice to know someone’s doing alright."

They fell into silence, and Steve watched her, something unspoken settling in the quiet. He leaned against the doorframe.

"How’s Nicky?"

Natasha's face softened at the mention of her son, her usual guarded expression slipping just a little.

"Growing faster than I can keep up with," she murmured, almost to herself. "He’s asking a lot of questions these days. Hard questions."

Steve nodded, his voice gentle. "He’s smart, like his mom."

She let out a small, tired laugh, glancing down. "Smart... yeah. And stubborn. Keeps me on my toes."

"Sounds like he’s a lot like you."

She shook her head, smiling faintly, before looking back at the table where her half-eaten sandwich sat. "He’s everything we hoped he’d be. Kind, curious... Sometimes, I wonder if he’s too gentle for this world. For what’s left of it, anyway."

A heavy silence followed her words, and Steve moved a step closer, an understanding look in his eyes.

"He’s got you to look out for him. And you’re both stronger than you think."

Natasha gave a small nod, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "Maybe."

After a long moment, Steve looked up at her, his gaze steady, honest.

"Group was interesting. I keep telling them to move on. Grow past it," he said, his voice laced with something like resignation. "And some of them actually do. But not us."

Natasha held his gaze, the weight of it settling heavily between them. "If I move on," she murmured, "who does this?"

"Maybe it doesn’t need to be done," he replied quietly.

The words lingered, sinking into her. Steve was thinking of letting go. She could see the traces of weariness on his face and how he looked around the compound.

She glanced around, taking in the remnants of what had once been their team, their family. "I used to have nothing," she said softly. "Then I got this. This job, this family..."

Her voice caught, a flash of grief breaking through her carefully composed exterior. She took a breath, collecting herself.

"And even though they’re gone, I’m still trying to be... better."

Steve’s expression softened. "I think we both need to get a life."

She let out a small, almost hollow laugh. "You first."

He gave her a slight smile, then tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "What about Nora?"

Natasha’s face shifted, her smile fading. "It’s nothing," she said, brushing it off. Her gaze fell, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want my family back, Steve. My wife... Stella..."

A deep silence settled over them. Steve nodded slowly, understanding without needing any more words.

"We did our best, Nat," he murmured. "There wasn't anything more we could have done."

"That's the difficult part," She nodded.

They stared at each other, a long, quiet moment of shared melancholy. The silence wrapped around them, a reminder of all they’d lost and the people who weren’t there to share it with them anymore.

Then, a sudden ping broke through the silence. Natasha looked down at her console, swiping to a CCTV display, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight on the screen.

Scott Lang’s face filled the monitor, his expression hopeful yet bewildered, with Luis’s old van parked behind him.

“Hello?” Scott’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Is anyone home? This is, uh, Scott Lang? We met a few years ago. At the airport?”

Steve leaned in, frowning as he watched Scott on the screen. “This an old message?”

Natasha shook her head, stunned. “It’s the front gate.”

********

Vormir

Natasha and Clint were climbing, their breathing ragged from the exhaustion of the long ascent. The mountain seemed endless, and with every step, Natasha felt the air become thinner. It was suffocating. Her thighs were burning, her legs shaking, but she pushed through, her heart pounding in her ears as they reached the top of the cliff.

They approach an archway carved into the mountain's face, and Clint mutters to himself.

"Really starting to regret my choice here," Clint said half-jokingly.

Natasha exhaled, a dry laugh escaping her lips despite the gravity of the situation. She didn't answer immediately, her mind racing. "Yeah. I'm going to bet the raccoon didn't have to climb a mountain."

"I don’t think technically he’s a raccoon..." Clint grinned.

"Whatever. He eats garbage." She cut him off. But as Clint spoke, Natasha's smile faded, her gaze distant as she took a few more steps, each one harder than the last. There was a tightness in her chest, a knot that grew with each breath.

For a moment, the mountain felt less like a physical challenge and more like an emotional one. Every part of her wanted to stop, to tell Clint it was not worth it, but she couldn’t. She couldn't. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps caught their attention. They turned, guns drawn, ready for a fight.

"I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me," The hooded figure affirmed.

"Creepy," Clint commented.

"Welcome, Natasha, daughter of Ivan." The hooded figure gestured to her. "Clint, son of Edith."

"Creepier." He murmured.

"Who are you?" Natasha asked.

"Consider me a guide. To you and to all who seek the Soul Stone."

Their journey ended here.

********

"If we don’t get the stone, billions of people are going to stay dead." She said firmly.

Clint’s face was grim, but there was no question in his eyes. He knew what was coming. He already knew what’s been weighing on both of them.

"Then I guess we both know who it has to be,"

There was a pause. A beat where emotion played all over their faces - pain, love, heartbreak. Natasha looked at Clint, and something on her face shifted.

"Yeah, I guess we do," She said.

"I'm starting to think we don't mean the same person," Clint tilted his chin. "Nicky needs a mother."

"And he'll have her," Natasha said. As Natasha began to pull away, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, something changed.

Suddenly, the world around them shuddered. A strange, heavy pressure filled the air, like reality was bending. Natasha stumbled, her eyes snapping around, searching for the source. The ground trembled.

Suddenly she was alone.

"You think this is the end of your choice? I think you’ll find... it’s just the beginning." Red Skull's voice played around her ominously. She searched for the source but couldn't find it.

"What the hell," She cried out.

Before she could process what was happening, the world shifted again. The landscape around her warped, colors bleeding into one another as if she'd stepped through a rift into another plane of existence. Natasha closed her eyes as a wave of nausea washed over her. She only listened to her breathing and her senses until her feet hit solid ground. She could hear the running of water. If she could guess, it was a stream or... a river.

"What is this place?" She asked as she blinked her eyes open. Red Skull stood before her. Natasha looked around, hoping to find her bearings, but nothing gave her the indication that she was still on Vormir or Earth. It seemed like a purgatory of sorts. Someone else's dream.

"You’ve come this far. But I think you deserve more than just a simple end. A choice so great—perhaps you should have the chance to reconsider." Red Skull explained.

"What do you want from me?" She demanded. "Where's Clint?"

"I offer you a choice—one you may not have considered. A way out. A chance to undo it all... in a different form." He ignored her questions, only causing more confusion.

"What’s your game, Skull? What are you talking about?" She stepped closer to him. "I swear to-"

"Mama?" A voice called. Natasha froze. Her heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing into a single point of focus. That voice. Her heart dropped and then soared all at once. She didn't understand how, but she knew exactly who it was. Her stomach churned.

She turned around, her eyes scanning the familiar landscape, and then there she was.

Stella was the same age as when the Snap happened. Natasha’s breath caught in her throat. Her hair was the same—soft, messy curls that fell around her face. Her eyes were just as bright as those vivid green eyes that Natasha had only seen in her dreams. The little girl looked up at her, pure joy in her expression, a smile that could light up the entire world.

"Hi, Mama," Stella grinned up at her. Her face was unchanged, frozen in time. She looked just as Natasha remembered. Still three. Still lost in a world that didn't seem to age her.

Natasha’s heart felt like it would shatter. She rushed toward her daughter, closing the distance in a heartbeat. She pulled Stella into her arms, holding her so tightly it almost hurt. Her eyes stung with tears she couldn't contain.

"I don’t... I don’t understand. How—how are you here? You... you’re—"

But before she could finish, Stella pulled back slightly, her little face furrowed with confusion.

"Where is Mommy?" She asked

"Oh God." Natasha choked back a sob. She wants to say something, but she doesn't have the words. It was too much.

"Why is Mommy not here?" Stella's confusion turned to frustration. "You said Mommy was coming." Stella directed her anger at the Red Skull.

"Stella..." Natasha began.

Natasha’s world tilted on its axis. She held Stella tighter, her mind racing. A thousand questions rushed through her thoughts. How was this possible? What was happening to her?

But the reality of her daughter, there—now—overpowered every rational thought. The warmth of her child’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling her away from the edge of the unknown.

"I'll find Mommy, don't worry," Natasha soothed the little girl. "We'll find her together."

She rubbed her daughter’s back, trying to keep herself from breaking down. Her emotions were a whirlwind—relief, pain, confusion. But something didn't feel right. Something was off.

"I offer you a choice." Red Skull interrupted their reunion. "Stay here, in this moment, with your daughter, forever trapped in the purgatory, or return to the world you know... in a different form. I can give you a new life, a new beginning—a second chance at everything. But there is a price, of course."

Natasha’s breath hitched. "What's the price? What happened to giving up a soul?"

"You will be reincarnated. Your soul, your essence, will live again in a new body. You’ll be free from the pain of this life and the burden of the past. But you will lose everything you know. You’ll forget this life, your memories, your loved ones—your daughter. You will be someone else."

"So either way, I'd die," Natasha guessed. She licked her lips nervously. "Either way, the people I love will lose me. How is this better than the other deal?"

"Not death, Natasha. Rebirth. A chance to begin again, free from the weight of your past. But yes, in this new life, you will forget. The pain, the grief... and the love. Your soul will live again, but it will be untethered, unburdened by the memories of this life. It will be a clean slate.

"So I get to live again but lose everything I ever cared about? I don’t even get to remember the people I’ve fought for, the ones I’ve sacrificed everything for. You’re telling me to give up my life again?" She shook her head. "I would forget her. I would forget all of them."

"You will gain something more valuable—freedom. You will be someone else, someone better, with no shackles. No more ghosts of the past, no more running. You will be given a chance to make a new path. But there is no turning back once you choose. Once your soul is reborn, it will not remember this moment. You will be free of the pain of your past... but also the joy of those moments, those people."

Natasha swallowed hard, her mind racing. The thought of losing everything she fought for—the memories, the bonds she’s built, especially with her daughter—twisted like a knife in her chest. But the idea of freedom and redemption tempted her in a way she couldn't ignore.

"And if I choose the other way? To stay here, to die for the stone... What’s the difference? Isn’t it all just... an end?" She said quietly to herself.

"The difference is that you remain as you are in this choice. You will stay in this moment, this world, and be trapped in it. Without her. A death without peace, a loss without redemption. The universe will continue without you."

A beat passed as Natasha processed the weight of his words. She wanted to scream, to demand more answers. She wanted to tear through this reality, but all she could do was stare at Stella, her little face looking at her with that innocent, trusting look. That face is the one thing that keeps pulling her heart in two directions—back toward this strange, illusory world where she can hold her daughter or forward toward an unknown fate, a second chance.

"Why would I choose freedom if it means losing everything that made me who I am? What’s the point of living again if I can’t remember why I fought so hard to be here in the first place?" She frowned. "Do they come back? Does Nicky get his mother and his sister?"

"The people you love will remember you. They will mourn you. They will grieve, but they will move on. They will find a way to live without you, and eventually, the wounds will heal. It will not be the same, but there will be peace, eventually."

"I don’t want to forget... I don’t want to forget her. I can’t." Her voice broke. She was crying now.

"You are not choosing to forget her. You are choosing to give her a future. A future where the world is saved, where the people you love have a chance to live. That is the sacrifice you make. The world needs you, Natasha Romanoff, more than your memories."

"And if I choose not to live again? What happens then?"

Red Skull’s gaze sharpened, his voice heavy with the finality of his words.

"Then you will die, and the universe will continue without you."

The reality of his words sank in, a heaviness weighing her down. She was faced with an impossible choice—die and have the possibility of everyone coming back or reincarnating with the same result.

Her fingers traced the outline of her wedding band, the cold metal a reminder of all she had lost.

"Why me?" She asked suddenly. Red Skull looked at her with something close to pity, though it was difficult to read on his stone-like face."Does everyone get this option?"

“No,” he replied, his voice cold but edged with something else—something ancient. “Not everyone. Only those whose actions have carried weight—those whose sacrifices have been… significant. You’ve walked a path of endless struggle. Death has followed you, yet you fight; you sacrifice, again and again, not just for others but for a purpose greater than yourself. It is rare to see such a soul. That is why I offer this choice to you.”

Natasha absorbed his words, her mind racing. Her life had always been a series of choices, but this… this was different. A chance to leave it all behind and be reborn, or to give everything, including herself, to save others.

Her thoughts drifted to Stella, still tucked in her arms, her innocent eyes full of love and trust. Could she really leave this behind? Could she live with the knowledge that the mother her children knew would never return to them?

“Why me?” Natasha repeated, her voice soft but unwavering. “Why offer this to me and not to someone else? There have been countless others who’ve given everything… so why now?”

Red Skull didn't answer immediately, the silence hanging heavily in the air.

Red Skull's gaze softened, just for a moment. “Because you are more than what you think yourself to be. You have been a weapon, a force of destruction, and a beacon of hope. You’ve fought against fate, against what you thought you were destined for. This is your moment to choose what you wish your legacy to be. Either way, you shape your own fate.”

Natasha stood still, her heart thundering. Red Skull waited for her decision. The silence hung heavy between them, thick with the moment's gravity.

Natasha swallowed, her hand tightening into a fist at her side. "And if I choose to leave? To reincarnate—what happens to them? To Clint, to my team… my daughter?"

"They will live," Red Skull said, his voice almost too calm, too sure. "They will carry on, their memories untouched. But you will be gone. Your place in the universe will be filled by someone else."

Natasha closed her eyes, the words weighing heavy on her. It was an impossible decision, one she couldn’t fathom.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't choose."

"Mama," Stella questioned. It seemed she was waiting for an answer, too.

"I'm sorry," Natasha let the tears fall this time. "I'm so sorry, Solnyshko." She whimpered.

Red Skull looked at her, his expression almost sympathetic.

"It is not a choice, Natasha. It is a sacrifice. One you have already made."

"Okay, okay, I'm ready." Natasha breathed. "I'm sorry, baby." She kissed Stella's forehead. She could only hope you would forgive her.

*********

"It was supposed to be me. She sacrificed her life for that goddamn stone. She bet her life on it," Clint ranted. "She jumped, and one of us had to explain this to Nicky."

Thor and Banner exchanged puzzled glances. The tension in the room is thick; Clint’s grief is a raw wound, and their shared loss weighs on everyone. But this—this was something they hadn’t anticipated.

"Who is Nicky?" Bruce questioned.

Clint’s shoulders slumped as if the question's weight was too much. He took a shuddering breath, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Nicky’s her son,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nat didn’t talk about him much… she didn’t want to endanger him. She kept him safe, hidden, but he’s… he’s still so young.”

“Are you telling us that Nat… that she left behind a child?” Bruce asked gently, his voice filled with concern.

Clint nodded, swallowing hard. “She did it for him, you know. She did it for all of us, for everyone that got snapped. But he was part of that, too. Part of the reason she…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Thor’s expression shifted from confusion to a deep, somber respect. “A mother’s sacrifice… to protect her child,” he murmured almost reverent.

"Children," Tony supplied.

"What?" Clint looked at Tony.

"There were two children. She had Stella," Tony reminded him. "It was for them. For her wife."

Clint glanced up, anger and anguish flashing in his eyes. “And now he’s alone. She’s gone, and he’s got no one.” His voice cracked as he stumbled over the words. “Who’s going to be there for him? Who’s going to tell him why his mom never came back?”

Bruce placed a comforting hand on Clint’s shoulder, his eyes sincere. “Then we’ll be there for him,” he promised. “If Natasha’s son needs family, he’s got us. Whatever he needs—support, protection, anything.”

Thor nodded firmly, the resolve clear in his gaze. “We owe her that much. And I’ll ensure he knows exactly who his mother was—a warrior, a hero. The bravest among us.”

That landed heavily among all of them.

*********

You'd been appalled when Happy suggested a joint funeral for Tony and Natasha. The idea left a bitter taste in your mouth. A funeral for Natasha—your Natasha—sounded absurd. She wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. Not her.

You’d spent five years in limbo, caught between one breath and the next, with no awareness of the time passing. One moment, you were home in Missouri, watching your children play in the den, and the next… nothing. It wasn’t like sleep or even unconsciousness. It was as if you simply didn’t exist. And then, just as suddenly, you were back. But the world you returned to had shifted and moved forward in ways you couldn’t yet wrap your mind around.

Nicky had grown so much taller than you remembered. No longer the little boy you’d kissed goodnight, he was older now, with five years of life etched into his features, years you’d missed as his mother. The last time you saw him, he was just one year old, approaching his second birthday, which you'd planned together. Now, at eight, he was still small but no longer the toddler you had once held in your arms.

In some ways, he was a stranger, a person with a life outside your knowledge. You missed five years of his life.

And now, with no warning, the universe had ripped away the only constant in your life.

It didn't make sense. The universe had brought you back only to take her away. She couldn't be gone.

So you refused the funeral. It was a denial, an attempt to reject the reality thrust upon you. You didn’t need a funeral for someone who wasn't dead. She would come home. You wouldn't bury an empty casket.

And then you looked at your children—two pieces of your heart, tethering you to a reality you could hardly stand. You wanted to honor Natasha, for them, if nothing else. None of this made sense. None of it felt right. But you knew you had to push forward.

That morning, you dressed them with shaking hands, pausing often to steady yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot from a night spent wrestling with grief, exhaustion, and disbelief. You’d barely slept, remembering Natasha and the impossible circumstances that had brought you here. But for Nicky and Stella, you had to keep going.

They sat before you now in Tony’s lake house, their small, trusting faces watching you closely. Everyone else was waiting downstairs—the Avengers, friends from all over, people whose lives she had touched. But before you joined them, you needed this quiet moment with your children to prepare them for the hardest goodbye any of you had ever faced.

"It's time for us to say goodbye to Mama," You breathed. You took both of their hands and kissed each of them. "I know we don't want to. This is the last thing I want to do, but..."

Stella was staring at her feet, a sullen, pained look on her face.

"It's going to be hard. I'm gonna miss her, too," You told him. "But we're gonna get through it. We're gonna be okay."

You turned to Nicky. He was watching you, his face serious. He'd been quiet all morning, barely speaking. He'd lost both parents at different periods of his life. He didn't know what to make of the idea that this was his reality.

"Do you have questions?" You asked him. "About anything?"

"Is Mama... is she coming back?"

You took a deep breath. "No, Nicky. She's not."

He looked down at his shoes, his little eyebrows drawn together. You wanted to hold him and make the pain disappear, but you couldn't. He barely knew you. It would take more than the days you'd known each other for him to trust you. The Snap had taken that bond away from you.

"We'll always remember her. And she'll never forget us," You promised. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said softly.

You looked at Stella. She was probably so confused. You tugged at the skirt of her dress to get her attention.

"Baby, you alright?" You asked.

"Mama's not dead," She cried. "Why is Mama dead?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces.

"Oh, baby." You knelt and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I wish she were here."

"Where is she?"

"She's in heaven. She's with Grandma and Pop-Pop. They're taking care of her."

"But why?" Her lip trembled. It was in that way that always broke your heart.

"The world was a very bad place, and she sacrificed herself to fix it. She was a hero. She saved everyone, including you and Nicky."

"But why does that mean Mama's gone? Why can't she stay?"

You tried to blink away the tears forming.

"Sometimes things happen, and there's no reason, no logic. Sometimes, people leave, and we can't understand why."

"I want Mama. I don't want her to go," Stella's eyes watered. "Please."

"I know, baby. I know. So do I. I'm so sorry."

Stella leaned her head against your chest, her body shaking as she cried. You ran your hand through her hair and held her close, willing your warmth to be enough for the both of you.

Neihter of you were ready but it was something you had to do.

*********

Walking out of the lake house behind Pepper, Morgan, and Peter felt overwhelmed. It felt so wrong. There was no way Natasha was gone. You wanted to turn and run, find a way out of this reality, this nightmare. You scanned the crowd, noticing familiar faces and others you'd only ever heard about through Natasha’s stories—a reminder of the secrecy you had kept to protect your family.

Clint and Laura met your eyes, offering quiet support, and you gave them a faint, shaky smile in return. Nicky clung tightly to your hand, his other hand holding a small bundle of Natasha’s favorite flowers. You adjusted Stella on your hip, feeling the weight of her tiny arms wrapped around you, grounding you in this surreal moment.

As you stepped closer to the water's edge, you noticed the questioning looks of some of the people gathered there. They didn’t know who you were; they didn’t know Natasha’s family had quietly existed all this time. Ignoring the stares, you focused on what you came here to do, offering Natasha this final act of love.

Pepper placed her flowers gently on the water, a quiet tribute to Tony. Then, with a soft nudge, you guided Nicky forward. He stepped up, his small fingers trembling as he let the flowers slip into the lake. Nicky's dog, Ollie, had darted out of the house and now pressed his nose against Nicky's hand, sensing the boy’s sadness.

"Goodbye, Tony," he said softly, his eyes shining with tears. "Goodbye, Mama."

Pepper reached for him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Then she did the same for you and Stella, her expression solemn.

"Bye, Tony," Stella murmured, her face pressed against your chest. "Bye-bye, Mama."

Stella didn't know him. She didn't have memories of Tony, but she felt compelled to follow in her brother's steps.

You listened as Pepper began speaking, sharing memories of Tony and words of remembrance. You held it together, swallowing back the ache in your chest as her voice wavered over the water. She looked at you when she finished, nodding gently—it was your turn.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, holding Stella close, and faced the gathering.

"Natasha is..." You breathed. That wasn't right. "Natasha was my wife." You began. "She was a wife and a mother." You looked down at Nicky's proud eyes. "She loved harder than anyone I'd ever known. She was kind and strong and loyal."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"But above all, she was brave. She was the bravest woman I'd ever met. And we will miss her. Every day. Every second. We will carry her memory with us." You sighed. "For eight long years, Natasha was my rock. Long before then, she was my everything. She gave me two beautiful children. Two amazing little humans who made every moment worth it. They remind me so much of her. A lot of you never knew about me. Never knew about us. It was better that way. Our own little secret. This family was something only we knew."

"But I'm telling you now because... If anyone needs to know about Natasha and how incredible she was, it's the people here. You knew her better than anyone. You've shared her battles, her victories. She was part of your family. So, for everyone who's not part of mine, let me share it with you. Let me tell you about her." You continued. You felt stronger the more you talked. "Having a person makes life easier to live. Having Natasha made my life so much better. She was the best thing that ever happened to me."

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. "Natasha and I didn't meet under ideal circumstances. She was a spy, and I was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. We worked together on missions. Eventually, those late nights turned into something more. I was lucky enough to know her as a teammate. Later, I got to see the other side of her, the one only a few people knew. She was a good person. One of the best."

Your eyes found Clint's, and he nodded in understanding. He was the one who'd first introduced you.

"It wasn't always easy. Life never is. There were times when it was difficult. Hard choices, difficult sacrifices. But she always made sure to make things right, no matter what it cost her."

You wiped away a stray tear and took a shuddering breath.

"We will never forget her. Not a day will go by when I don't think about her. Her sacrifice will be felt for generations." You sniffed. "I can't promise I won't spend every waking moment wishing she were here. Wishing I could kiss her or hold her or hear her voice one more time. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure our children never forget her. She deserved better. A long, happy life. A future with all of us."

The dam burst, and you held back a sob. Pepper's soothing hand rubbed your back. She felt this grief, too.

"But if there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that sometimes things just don't go the way we plan. And that's okay. We'll figure out how to move forward without her. We'll carry her in our hearts and minds and keep living the best lives we can."

*********

It had been three weeks of slowly packing away Natasha’s life, boxing up memories and fragments of her identity. Clearing out her apartment felt surreal; each item you wrapped and labeled was a bittersweet reminder. The decision to move Nicky away from his childhood home had been hard, but you knew it was time for a fresh start, somewhere the kids could grow and heal.

At precisely 8 a.m., the moving truck pulled up, ready to transport everything to your new brownstone. Natasha’s SUV idled in the street as you trailed behind the movers, the last piece you had yet to part with. It wasn’t as if you needed it in New York, but something about selling it felt too final, like letting go of another piece of her.

You ran a hand along the dashboard, the smell of Natasha still lingering, even after all this time. Going back to Missouri felt even harder—that was the home you had chosen together. You’d have to make the trip eventually to pack it up, but the thought alone made your chest tighten.

Lost in thought, you were brought back to reality by a voice from the backseat.

“No, I’m the big sister!” Stella was arguing, her voice firm with a tiny pout on her face.

You turned around, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Stella, honey, you’re not the big sister anymore. Nicky’s older than you.”

Stella scrunched her nose in defiance. “But I feel like the big sister!”

You laughed softly. “I know, sweetie. But it doesn’t work that way.”

Before she could fire back with more questions, something outside caught her attention. “Look, Mama! Another moving truck!”

You saw the large truck parked halfway across the road, its bulk blocking your path. Irritated but resigned, you parked Natasha’s SUV and climbed out, hoping to get them to move just enough so you could pass.

"Excuse me, I have a m—" you started to say but stopped. Your breath caught in your throat, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine.

The movers were busy unloading furniture and boxes into the back of the truck, oblivious to your sudden stillness. You watched them work, your heartbeat growing louder, filling your ears. As you approached, a woman stepped out beside the truck, brushing her hands off her jeans. She had blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight and sharp green eyes that locked onto yours. There was something vaguely familiar about her, though you couldn’t quite place it.

“Hey there! Sorry about the truck blocking the way. I was just helping unload,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’m Kelly. Just moving in next door.”

You introduced yourself, feeling a slight tug of recognition but pushing it aside. “Nice to meet you, Kelly. We’re actually moving in too. Guess we’re going to be neighbors. Where are you moving from?"

"Nebraska," Kelly nodded. "I'm a doctor. I wanted a bit of change. For some reason, I felt drawn to New York, so now I'm here."

You gave her a tight smile, wondering why her voice sounded so familiar. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood. I hope you enjoy it here. We'd love to have you over for dinner once we get settled. "

Kelly's smile widened, her gaze turning almost hopeful. "I'd like that."

fin

[masckarlach]

might write something horribly angsty whilst listening to love is a dog from hell by madclown. tomorrow

[sideeve]

⠀⠀⠀“WHAT?! SEX BAN?!”

﹅ contains ;; gojo satoru , kento nanami , choso kamo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , geto suguru

﹅ alt title ;; how long the jjk men can withstand the sex ban

﹅ warnings ;; sorta sub!choso , whiny!choso , toji's part is more explicit than the others , this is my first time writing for some of the character so i'm sorry if i didn't describe them well

GOJO SATORU (3 days)

“are you serious?” gojo groans, slumping forwards. gojo watched in disappointment as you crossed your arms, looking away from him. "you did it so you have to pay." for weeks, you've been trying to tell gojo to separate the colors from the whites while doing laundry. him just wanting to get it over with, he dumped them all in the same load, ruining some of your favorite pieces of clothing.

"baby, please. i won't do it again," he begs, kneeling in front of you. but to no avail, you stood your ground.

it only took him 3 days to convince you to wave your white flag, surrendering to his seduction. "you look good in my shirts." gojo's hands caress your hips as he presses his chest to your back. "i would be in my clothes if you would just listen to me." you huff, "i never said i was disappointed." gojo whispered, his hard-on pressing on your ass.

“please. just drop the ‘sex ban’. i said i was sorry.” his lips make a trail of kisses on your neck. you needed him too. whenever he wasn’t around, you would use your toys, trying to not let gojo know you were sexually needy. but they didn’t work.

RYOMEN SUKUNA (not happening!)

no. just no. it’s funny that you even thought about putting that in motion. sukuna was too desperate for sex but never wanted to admit it.

“no,” he stood above, crossing his arms, making himself seem bigger than you (as if he even needed to do that). “you can’t deprive me of sex, woman.” he grunts. “but i can, kuna. that’s what you fail to realize.” you tut, standing up to walk away.

one of his four arms wraps around your waist, throwing you back on the soft surface. "you're not going through with this." he growls in your ear, crawling go top of you.

how dare you even think such a thing? you were his woman, his twin flame. you were the only person he showed the littlest respect to and you decide to do some foolery like this.

he tugs your shirt over your head, your bra coming next. his rough hands slide over your chest. "such beauty..." he whispers. "i'll make sure you never think of this again.

KENTO NANAMI (it was on accident)

his job was taking him away from you. between being a jujutsu sorcerer and a businessman, he couldn't find time to be a partner for you.

due to the lack of attention you were receiving, you became sexually pent up, having the urge to pleasure yourself at the worst times. the feeling of neglect was creeping up on you. some days, you forgot nanami even lived with you.

"love, i'm home." nanami tugs off his tie, tossing it to the side. "i don't know how long i can take of this." he rubs his temples, deeply sighing as he led himself to your shared bedroom. before his hand touched the cold metal knob, he heard your muffled moans and the squelching of your cunt.

he slowly opens the door, peeking in the room before fully entering. "it seems i've neglected you." he watches as you quickly cover yourself as if he hasn't seen you naked many times. he unbuttons the top of his shirt as he saunters to the edge of the bed, removing the covers off you.

"seems like i have some things to make up for."

CHOSO KAMO (not even a day)

"please." he whines, his head resting on your lap as he looks up at you. ever since you shared your first time with choso, he's been going at it with you like rabid dogs. if he wasn't inside you, his head was squished in between his thighs.

"choso, i need a break." you sigh, trying to remove him from off you. his grip on your legs was tight as he put his face in between your thighs, shaking his head. he was acting like he couldn't survive without your cunt somehow being involved.

"i swear, i'll leave you alone after. just please," he whined. you couldn't resist him for much longer. you hated when he got all whiny like a baby. he was spoiled because of you.

"fine." you undo the tie of your sweatpants before his hands swatted yours away, tugging your pants and panties off. "i promised you." he kisses your inner thigh before his tongue began flicking away.

TOJI FUSHIGURO (mans was balls deep in you the second you said it)

"you really think so?" he darkly chuckles, rubbing himself on you. "toji, i'm sorry. please." you whine, wiggling your ass on his cock. "i don't think you are." he teases, stepping away from you.

you whine, following him. "it was a joke." you press your hand on his chest. "did i laugh?" he tilts his head, smirking at you. you sigh, "toji, i'm sorry." you press yourself against him, your chest touching his.

"fuck." you knew he couldn't resist the feeling of your chest on him. it was like heaven to him. "turn around." he grunts, gripping your hips to turn you around, bending you over.

he easily slid inside of you due to how wet you got over time. "don't say stuff you don't mean, baby." he laughs, thrusting into your backside. it was worth it.

GETO SUGURU (you gave in after implementing it)

you wanted to test geto's limits, giving him an extra nnn moment which made you realize something. it was always you initiating sex. "geto, please. i give up." you whine, following him around the house.

he chuckles, "everyone must deal with their consequences, my love." he turns to you. he plastered a sinister smile, taunting you. he saw how much you needed him but he wasn't caving in until he heard you say it.

"i'll do anything. my hand isn't even working anymore." you simper. it was starting to become frustrating seeing how calm he was about all of this as you were suffering.

"i need you! is that what you wanted to hear?" you shout, earning a grin from him. he walks closer to you, his finger tracing your jawline, "why didn't you say that sooner, love?" he chuckles.

[libraford]

Park Cleanup Pet Peeves

I'll be starting my seasonal gig at Parks and Rec in a couple months and I've got a couple things I wanna say. I know that this will probably not reach the people who need to hear it, but if ONE LESS person leaves the parks a mess, I will be That Much Happier.

-You're not supposed to smoke, drink, or have sex in public parks but I know that people will anyway. But if you are going to do those things, please dispose of the evidence in the trash cans. A human has to pick these things up.

-Dog poop goes in a bag. Bag goes in the trash can.

-The little wax paper liners in the women's room? See you're supposed to put your pad/tampon in that wax paper bag, take the bag out of the bin, and then dispose of it in the actual trash can. Don't feel bad, no one told me either. Also no one told the dudes I work with. But this reduces direct exposure to bodily fluids, especially as the summer gets on and it gets hot in those bathrooms.

-On that subject! The little bins that they go in next to the toilet? Don't stick trash in there. Don't put diapers in there. Also don't put beer cans crushed in such a specific way that I slice my hand on them as I try to jimmy it out of there. Literally, that bin is too small for most things. They are meant specifically for those brown bags. Please for the love of god, throw things in the trash can.

-As for the urinals, please no solids. Most commonly gum and chewed tobacco, but you can use your imagination.

-If you're doing a photo shoot or an event with confetti, please use a paper confetti instead of a plastic one- its easier to get rid of.

-If you're doing a pizza party, we'd rather you stack the pizza boxes in a pile next to the trash can instead of trying to fit them in the trash. Because then we can just throw the trash bag over the top and tie it instead of trying to fish it out. This kind of goes for any big trash- if it won't fit in the trash can easily, don't try.

-Please don't call cops on people sleeping in the parks if they're not bothering anyone. Even if they've been sleeping there all day. Dude's just trying to chill.

-Destruction of the toilets will result in the indefinite locking of the restrooms. You ruined them and now everyone at the softball tournament can blame you for it.

-Parks people are not the police. We are maintenance workers who are not trained to handle most emergencies and the most we can do in any situation is report to the proper department. Please don't look to us for answers if someone is starting a fight.

-Also please don't spit on us for driving on the path. We're permitted to. Its essential for us to drive on the path to do our job.

-please don't abandon animals at the park. Rehome them properly. I spent a whole week trying to catch a rooster last summer.

-look, I get it- 'oh no, your pretty building has writing on it!' Grafitti is so edgy. We get it. But it means Jacob has to sand it off now so that the kids at the birthday party don't see a giant drawing of a weiner. Acts of rebellion that create more work for the working class are not revolutionary.

-please do not set fire to the Tiny Free Library. Why did you do that? That's mean.

-please do not feed bread to ducks and geese. Corn, birdseed, lettuce- those are better for them. If you want to reduce tge amount of goose poop in the parks, shop feeding them bread.

-also do not anger tge geese. They remember what its like to be dinosaurs.

I'll have more later, probably, once the season wears on.

[gallusrostromegalus]

hi i see that you have much smart dog experience. i may have accidentally purchased such a dog. she's only 10 weeks, and ive had her 1, and she's already outmatched every puzzle feeder i got or have made. to the point that she is morosely disappointed when her food comes in an actual food bowl. do you know where i can find like. "heres 100 enrichment toys you can make out of free trash so your dog stops eating fucking rocks for enrichment" lists. i only have so many paper towel tubes XD

Herschel now just disassembles puzzle feeders, so I've been focusing on "Toys that, even if he already knows how to operate them, will still take TIME for him to collect the treat from" to give him something to fuss with.

Herschel eats all his meals out of a Kong Wobbler, because he will otherwise eat so fast he will literally inhale and choke on his kibble and I do not need him developing pneumonia from aspiration. Even though it's a "Simple" toy it slows him down and he does have to think a bit to tip it in the most efficient manner possible. Kong's "Flipz", "Gyro" and "Rewards Wally" are also really good "dog needs to think/carefully manipulate the toy for food" toys that act as both mental stimulation and exercise and "give human a break for up to twelve minutes" toys.

I highly reccomend KONG as a brand- they're local to Denver and have an impeccable saftey record and all of the toys I have gotten from them have held up extremely well vs. the ravages of three entirely too smart and strong-jawed dogs at once.

Some more thoughts:

If she's not prone to shredding rubber, the kind of treat toys she has to chew are also good stimulation.

If you don't want to give her That Many treats, my vet said that dogs can have as many green beans as they want. Just make sure that the beans haven't had salt added to them- canned usually does, but frozen green beans usually don't, but always check the label.

You can make nearly any toy last longer, or make a cheap long-puzzle by freezing the treats so they take longer to eat AND provides hydration. Herschel's most favorite treat of all time is literally a wad of sliced green beans in a dixie cup, filled with water and frozen. Just peel off the cup and hand him the chunk of ice and he's good for up to half an hour and more chill afterwards.

You can also freeze lick mats

If your girl is like Charlie and doesn't like greenbeans, you can also try freezing paper cups of: Canned pumpkin, apple slices in water, putting some ice cubes in the bottom of the cup, a gob of peanut butter in the middle and then fill it with water to make a peanutbutter filled ice cube.

If your girl is REALLY like charlie who has figured out how to use labor negotiation and strike tactics for better treats: boiled chicken chunks frozen in some of the water you boiled them in.

Walkies are as much mental stimulation as they are physical exercise. Take her out and let her sniff to her heart's content.

Also Puppies in particular need like, SO MUCH exercise.

Let her participate in activities with you. Herschel and charlie sit in the kitchen and I narrate cooking dinner to them, which seems to interest them, even if I don't have spare veggie ends to give them. I also frequently bring them along in the car if I'm running errands when it's cold enough to do that, so they have something new to look at, and get to participate. I also am more likely to stop at a new park and give myself some exercise and mental stimulation.

Training her to do tasks is GREAT Smart Dog enrichment- esp if she's a herding or heeler, they LOVE being helpful. I taught the dogs they get a small treat if they come in from the yard without me having to go chase them down, which saved me a lot of hassle, and now I'm working on teaching herschel to pick things up off the floor for me if I drop them and alert for chickpeas, which my housemate is allergic to.

A lot of dogs like cat-type toys. Tie a stick or some fleece to some paracord and drag or flycast it around for her to chase/play tug with when she catches it. Toys that bounce unexpectedly were also a huge hit. or just wave the string around the cat and the corgi both like that.

If you live in farm country or know other people with pets, you can grab something with the scent of another animal on it and bring it home for her to smell. Charlie and Herschel spent the better part of three days investigating the wad of horse undercoat I brought home and put in the spare wobbler for them to smell.

[bi-writes]

ok simon and his mail order bride live rent-free in my head now and, like, what i wanna know is what their anniversaries look like? not just their one year anniversary, but also their fifth or tenth? how does it change as they settle into that deep comfortability that comes with being with someone a long time? -391780

this piece i still consider canon mail-order bride, but i see it almost as an extra than a continuation of the current story since it is very much in the future of that timeline. <3

mail-order bride

it's difficult to see the potential of something so mangled. sometimes things are so worn out and so used that they don't reflect what their purpose was. instead of function, they see flaw. instead of value, they see waste.

sometimes you wonder if that's what they saw in you. sometimes you wonder if that's why you were given to him.

that's what they made him. simon was a tortured dog they let loose. they saw value, but only what was left, and perhaps they thought something like you might help them squeeze just that little bit more out of him. one more year. one more op.

the sunlight wakes you up. you forgot to pull the blinds, but when you see simon sleeping peacefully next to you, it's worth it to be up so early. you know as soon as you move, he will wake, so you keep still for just a few more minutes.

today marks ten. he doesn't look much older. he seems to have stopped aging ever since you asked him to put in his papers.

like always, as soon as you sit up, simon blinks awake. he's bleary, but conscious, and when your eyes meet, you smile at him. he lifts his big hand and rubs your back gently. you don't speak any words so early in the morning, but you don't have to. there isn't much to say when the love of your life loves you, and you love them back.

you push the blankets off, giggling when you reveal the black and orange balls of fur that blink up at you. they almost seem irritated that you interrupted their sleep, snuggled in the heat that simon radiated. they'll just have to deal with it.

you drag your hand down simon's leg wordlessly. you hear his deep breaths from behind, and you reach into your bedside table to press a little balm into your hand before spreading the ointment across his knee and under it. you work it into the muscles nice and slow; any faster, and simon will hitch his breath in pain, and you'll have to start over.

you kiss his knee before laying back down, settling into his side, and you lift up your left hand, wiggling your fingers knowingly at him before looking up towards his face. he smiles down at you sleepily, raising his hand to cup your fingers.

"still love me?" you ask softly, and simon pretends to think about.

"mmm..." he rumbles. "still love ya."

"but do you still like me?"

"more everyday."

the first few years were spent trying to play catch-up. fancy dinners, expensive gifts, handwritten letters that could've been novels to try and stuff the love you have for each other all in one night. they were all wonderful; you think about those nights all the time, and you cherish the gifts he's given you like they are a part of you, but today feels different.

today might not be just another day, but it's just as special as yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that.

when it's time to really wake up, you let simon guide you. he walks easy, barely a limp, and he sits you down at your vanity to help you do your hair as you add your serums and moisturizers. he's good with that brush, running it through gently, parting your hair the way you like so he can tie it up. he'd braid your hair if you asked him to (he said it wasn't unlike all the knots he knows how to tie--and he meant it, no one dutch braids like him), but you know your show came out last night, and you want to watch them with the scones you have proofing in the fridge.

he makes the coffee and tea while you set the scones in the oven. you fill the cat's bowls while he cleans out the water fountain. it's wordless, the morning routine, but you like the times when you brush by him. when your arm runs against his. when your hands bump going for the same cabinet. when he leans down as he passes you, kissing along your jaw before he keeps walking.

bliss. fucking bliss.

he's waiting for you in the living room once you pull the scones out of the oven. your coffee sits on the table on its coaster, in your favorite mug, and he's under your blanket as he flips through the tv. he already knows what you'll want to watch, and you bite back your smile when you notice him typing it into the search bar because he didn't see it when he scrolled past (you keep telling him to wear his glasses, but he'll never listen).

you take a seat next to him, thumbing at his cheek, and he takes a scone off the plate before biting into it. he smiles when he tastes chocolate, looking at you knowingly, and you reach for his hand as you settle against his chest.

you used to be mangled, too. a mess. pretty on the outside, dying on the inside. all fried wires, a traumatized animal, learned behavior of relieve and appease that kept you out of trouble and out of sight.

you have never seen simon this way. and simon has never seen you this way. no hopeless potential. no wasted space. no diminishing value.

i matter because you matter. you matter because i matter.

hidden, not broken. disguised, not incomplete. you did not have jagged edges, only armor that you tried to put up to protect yourself.

you tip your head back to look up at him, and when he cups your jaw to stare back at you, you're relieved by what you see in his eyes.

ten years. it will be nothing like forever. it will be nothing like your next life, nor like the life after that. it's comforting to know what home looks like. maybe you will recognize it the way you recognized it in this life.

no, that can't be it.

you recognized it because it had already happened. in some other time, in some other place, you were sitting where you sit now, looking at simon the way you look at him now.

you knew who he was before you even met him, and you will know who he is when you meet him again.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

good boy

words: 1.5k

warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy

“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.

“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.

“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.

“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.

“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.

“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.

“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.

“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”

“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.

that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.

“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”

-- two years later --

“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.

“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.

“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”

“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”

“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”

you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”

“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.

“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.

--

“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.

“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.

“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.

rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.

“oh my gosh!” you squeal. 

“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.

you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.

“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.

“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.

“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage. 

“what?” you whine out.

“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”

“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.

you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.

“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.

--

“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”

you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.

max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.

“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.

max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.

you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.

“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.

your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.

“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.

“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”

“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much. 

“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.

“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.

“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”

you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[entirelysein-e]

『 Be quiet 』

☼ synopsis: You like to test Nanami's patience but didn't think you can take it that far.

☼ character: Nanami Kento

☼ wc: 1.0k

☼ cw: female!reader, afab!reader, sub!reader, teasing, masturbation, clit slapping, fingering, gagging, bondage

☼ Kinktober Masterlist

Making Nanami lose his patience with you became your favorite game lately, trying to see just how far you can take it with him until he finally snaps, often times getting bent over the nearest surface and getting fucked senseless. Just today he seemed to have the patience of an angel when Gojo came over for something work related, which usually meant he would snap quickly - just not today and you weren't sure why but it meant you can be extra naughty. When you brought them both some chilled lemonade, wearing a slutty little skirt you bent down to place the drinks on the table, letting Gojo get a nice view of your cleavage while Nanami came face to face with your pretty pussy… wait what?

You giggled as you walked out of the room again, feeling Gojos eyes on you while Nanamis jaw threatened to break from the sheer pressure he had while clenching his teeth together, trying his best not to put you in your place for dressing like this around his friends, but that had to wait until later, reminding himself that you can't always get what you want, that it's his own fault that you behave like a spoiled brat now. You were so sure that you had him in the palm of your hand like a trained dog but the opposite was the case. Nanami knew exactly which buttons to press to make you go dumb so he can take his frustrations out on you.

The next time you came into the living room where the men still sat you gently sat on your husbands lap, keeping your legs slightly open - far enough to distract the white haired men in front of you but not enough to let him see anything and you could feel Nanamis grip on your hips tighten. Couldn't you just sit still and behave for once? He was at loss of words with your behavior, silently begging you to wait just one more hour, he would give you everything you wanted if you were patient for just a little longer but you just couldn't, disappearing to the bedroom.

He almost lost it when he heard can't whimpers of his name coming from the room you were in as he walked to the kitchen, getting himself and Gojo a refill on drinks. “Can you wait a moment? She's feeling unwell and needs me to hold her hair,” He excused himself from the living room, not caring if Gojo could see right through the lie. The moment he entered your shared bedroom and saw how you desperately fucked yourself with three of your little fingers, trying to imitate the stretch he gave you, he completely lost it, grabbing you by your ankle and pulling you to the edge of the bed where he held both of your hands in just one of his. A slap to your clit made you yelp “Is this what you needed? Behaving like a little slut in front of Gojo? Wanted me to take you on the table right in front of him, hm?” He hissed, voice barely above a whisper and you shook your head no only to get another slap to your weeping cunt. “Don't act up now,” he warned you, shoving two of his fingers into your tight entrance, a small scowl on his face when you started to moan “You need to be quiet - Can you do that for me? Behave for once?” He asked stern but it made you giggle, moaning extra loud the next time he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. You knew that he was just with you in that moment to take care of you quickly before returning to business, most likely rock hard, but business came before pleasure, always.

“I said be quiet, love. Please… Or do i need to gag you? He asked sincere, fingers stilling inside of you but no matter how hard you tried to be good for him, you were far too gone to be silent now so you shook your head, making him sigh and pull out of you.

You didn't get time to whine or protest, his fingers working quickly to untie his tie before walking over to your head “Now be a darling and open up,” He hummed, pushing the long piece of fabric into your mouth entirely before kissing your forehead “So needy for me, hm? Just one. I promise i'll take proper care of you later,” He said loving, the contrast of moments before making your head spin. Thick fingers returned into your tight heat, massaging your velvet walls as his thumb grazed over your little clit, your slick aiding he movements. Nanami knew exactly how to get you to fall apart in mere minutes, the tips of his fingers pressing into your sweet spot while working on your clit - moans now muffled by the tie stuffed in your mouth, letting your eyes cross in pleasure as you finally tumbled over the edge thanks to his generous attention.

When you finally calmed down he pressed a kiss to the mound of your core, before standing up again, your hands still in his clutch. You didn't expect him to grab another tie that was laying on his bedside table, tying your hands up to the bed frame while leaving you gagged. “Just precaution… You stay here now and wait for me,” He explained wearing a neutral expression although the tent in his pants gave him away. The sight of you tied up and gagged, only waiting for him to fuck you senseless made him rock hard - and especially after an entire day with Gojo he had plenty of frustration he needs to take out one way or another and since you were still begging for his cock, you sure wouldn't mind if he takes it out on your poor cunt.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[megankoumori]

In defense of a "Wicked Stepmother":

Sarah's Stepmother in "Labyrinth", named Irene in tie-in media, only gets about a minute of screen time before Sarah rushes off to her room in a soaked snit. Fanfic writers usually turn her into an evil bitch and even the manga sequel, "Return to Labyrinth", has her cold and abusive to Toby, her biological child. But here's the thing...

I think Sarah's mother gets a bum rap.

Dressing nicely for an evening out and having mild conflict with a teenager does not a Lady Tremaine make. And as someone who actually lived with a narcissistic, manipulative, emotionally abusive stepfather, I can tell you that Irene doesn't even come close to wicked step parent territory.

Backstory first. It's never spoken of in the film, but clues in Sarah's room tell us that her real mother is a stage actress who abandoned her and her father for another actor. Sarah idolizes her mother and tries to emulate her with play acting. Sarah's father met and married Irene sometime after Linda ran off, and Sarah, who thinks her mom walks on water, resents the hell out of Irene for taking her place. A place that Linda abandoned for another man.

She couldn't help it. He looked like David Bowie.

Let's look at her first alledged transgression. She won't let Merlin into the house. Instead she orders him into the garage. Heartless, we assume because we all love dogs and only the most soulless of monsters don't. But slow down. She didn't leave him out in the rain. She put him in the garage. Furthermore, Merlin is an Old English Sheepdog. Is he a nice dog? Sure, but he's also a breed that's notorious for being high maintenance and hard to keep clean and right now he's soaking wet and filthy. Irene isn't being cruel, she's trying to keep him from ruining the carpet.

So now Sarah and Irene are in the house about to have their confrontation. "Sarah, you're an hour late..."

Sarah lost track of time. Sarah is the one who screwed up. Irene has every right to be frustrated. For all we know, she and Robert were supposed to see a movie or meet someone and Sarah's tardiness wrecks their plans. Note, please, that while she is frustrated, she's not even yelling. My mom would have screamed bloody murder and then held it over my head for weeks.

"Your father and I go out very rarely..."

"You go out every single weekend!"

There is no way to confirm who is right on this. I will say Sarah is the one prone to hysterics and exaggeration, so it's not looking good for her.

"And I ask you to babysit only if it won't interfere with your plans."

I ask. Irene asks. She doesn't demand, and she doesn't expect Sarah to give up her previous plans.

"Well how would you know what my plans are? You don't even ask me anymore!"

Sarah, you were LARPing in a park by yourself. Furthermore, with the storm you would have gone home anyway.

"Well I assume you would tell me if you had a date. I'd like it if you had a date. You should have dates at your age."

Irene doesn't want Sarah to be a Cinderella stuck at home every night. She wants her to go out and have a social life. This is literally the opposite of the bedtime story Sarah tells Toby later.

Also, "I'd assume you tell me..." Irene might not be wording it in the best way here, but she wants Sarah to communicate with her. She wants them to have a relationship.

Then Robert enters the scene. "Sarah, you're home. We were worried about you."

WE were worried. As in both he and Irene. You think that's the reason she was waiting on the porch? Because their sixteen year old daughter is an hour past when she said she'd be home and now it's raining and getting dark?

It's not like she'd ever talk to a stranger.

Sarah runs up the stairs in a snit, not even acknowledging her father and leaving Irene dismayed. "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say." Her voice isn't angry, it's hurt. She's making an effort to reach Sarah, but nothings working. She can't break through the tantrums and the anger and the hero worship of Linda.

Sarah is a fantasy junkie. It's all over her room. Her books are all fairy tales. Her dog and her teddy bear are named after figures from Arthurian legend. But she's wrapped herself in a different kind of fantasy, a toxic one. One where Irene, well meaning and kind, is one of the evil stepmothers from her fairytale books, while Linda is good and virtuous like one of the dead moms at the beginning. Except Linda isn't dead. She's shtupping a costar.

Part of Sarah's coming of age and maturity is rejecting Jareth, the stand in for her mother's lover and therefore finally rejecting following her mother's selfish path. We see her finally let go of Linda by putting her picture and clippings in the drawer. Hopefully, the next morning, after she picks the confetti out of her hair, she'll finally be able to start over with Irene.

[cherrynflowergarden]

hii! could you do hector fort bf head canons please? 😇

bf héctor headcanons || héctor fort

an; tysm for the request i hope you're happy w it:) i wrote this during my college hours hehe WE'RE LIKE 4 PPL AWAY FROM 500 OMG ILYSM the arda güler works i was writing hehe yeah i dislike them im gonna turn one into smau and let's see what i do w the other one im going to write for logan and carlos next 😠🎀

taglist; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-belle @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf

bf!héctor who despite looking so imitating is the sweetest boyfriend ever.

bf!héctor who calls you mi vida because you are his life.

bf!héctor who smiles so wide around you.

bf!héctor who acts nonchalant but not second someone mentions you all that act is down the drain.

bf!héctor who knows the sidewalk rule. he always walks on the side near the road. subconsciously, he does this with his friends too, since he's so used to it.

bf!héctor who finally gives in to your pleas and does tiktok challenges with you.

bf!héctor who loves being your passanger princess.

bf!héctor who lets you tie a bow around his bicep.

bf!héctor who loves gossiping with you.

bf!héctor who will attack you with kisses randomly.

bf!héctor who is the ultimate scary dog privilege. one wrong look at his girl and he's scaring the daylights of the person with his glare.

bf!héctor who is a cuddler. he needs your cuddles all the time.

bf!héctor who sends random pictures with the caption "this reminded me of you:)" to you almost everytime he's out.

bf!héctor who loves going for grocery shopping with you. something about it feels so domestic.

bf!héctor who tries to make breakfast in bed for you but ultimately fails. the loud clinking of the utensils definitely woke you up.

bf!héctor who talks to his mom about you.

bf!héctor who 'hates' when his mom tells you about his embarrassing moments and shows you his baby pictures. (no he doesn't he loves that his mother loves you enough to share all these with you)

bf!héctor who lets you colour his tattoos.

bf!héctor who gets matching tattoos with you. (if you don't want tattoos then he gets one dedicated to you.)

bf!héctor who loves when you steal his clothes.

bf!héctor who gets all shy when you call him by a pet name. (he was super shy and blushy the first time you called him a pet name)

bf!héctor who wears your scrunchie as a bracelet. he does this to one, let everyone know he's happily taken and two, for the time when you need tie your hair.

bf!héctor who needs your attention 24/7.

bf!héctor who playfully bites your nose.

bf!héctor who will flex his muscles randomly to get a reaction out of you.

bf!héctor who pretends to hate it when his friends tease him with your name.

bf!héctor who loves when you give him back and head scratches. no one but you is allowed to touch his hair.

bf!héctor who carries you on his back when you're tired.

bf!héctor who gets everything in your wishlist. he loves to spoil you.

bf!héctor who appreciates thoughtful and handmade gifts. he loves when you gift him a handmade bouquet. since he doesn't have much free time, he prefers to gift you small easy crafts.

bf!héctor who parades around with your lip stain on his cheek.

bf!héctor who loves neck kisses.

[laughingfcx]

(please/don't) call me baby

soundtrack <3

pairing: tetsurou kuroo x f. reader

content: fluff, crack humor, kuroo acts like a loser virgin LOL, way too many pet names, it girl energy reader !!!

warnings: swearing, like one sexual joke, ooc

word count: 1k

for the lovely @chososcamgirl <33 i've had sm fun in your w this idea !!!

you call everyone pet names. it's kind of your thing now, really. everyone, from yaku (darling!), to kenma (sweetheart!) to lev (angel!). that is, everyone except kuroo. to you, kuroo is kuroo. occasionally tetsurou, if he's lucky, but mostly he is just kuroo.

he doesn't mind it, he swears. he doesn't even care! or he wouldn't, but he also unfortunately happens to be head-over-heels in love with you. how embarrassing. and he's totally not jealous of the other guys.

which leads him to his current situation. his head tips back over the back of his chair as he runs one hand through his hair. "y/n, do you hate me?"

"no, why?" your answer is sharp and fast from the desk next to his.

oh, shit. now it's awkward.

"because, like... you don't call me any of your stupid cute names or anything," he explains sheepishly.

you sit up straight, lips curving up into a beautiful, evil smile. "you wanna be called pet names, kuroo?"

he flushes, shakes his head. "naaah, just asking."

you don't seem to believe him, head tilted to one side as you regard him curiously. and then you're getting up and making your way towards him, bending down to get on his level, and he thinks he might spontaneously combust in his pants. your fingers dance across the broad expanse of his chest, and your eyes are like a predator's, stalking its prey. his breath hitches as he waits for you to speak; when you finally do, he thinks he might have be going insane.

"whatever you say, baby," you purr, and holy fuck, kuroo is so ready to get down on his knees for you or bark like a dog or do whatever the fuck you want right now. he is pathetically down bad for you — it's embarrassing, and like you can read his mind, you just have to go and make it worse.

you twirl his tie around your fingers, careful and calculated, and for a split second, he imagines being pulled up by it, letting you kiss him in this empty classroom, just like that. and oh, apparently you're satisfied with how much you've messed him up right now, because suddenly you're back at your desk, and he's watching you fix your skirt with a beet red face and even redder ears.

today, for whatever reason, you're taking longer than usual to pack up when class ends, so he takes the opportunity to extricate himself from this terrible, terrible situation that he's created for himself. but when he's finally halfway out the door, someone calls his name.

"kuroo," you call after him, sickeningly sweet voice pulling him back to you. "baby, don't say you're leaving without me!"

his knees give way.

"you haven't forgotten my offer, though, right?" what a perfect gentleman, walking you home like this. he's even limiting his strides so you can keep up with ease.

"what offer, baby?" you hum distractedly, eyes glued to your phone. manicured fingers fly across it as you text someone, and you only look up when he chokes unceremoniously.

"you okay—"

"yes! i'm fine!" he yelps before you can say another word — or rather, one very specific word — and looks away to hide his reddening face. "as i was saying—"

"yes, b—"

"stop talking! i mean, let me speak!"

you frown, surprised at the way he won't let you get in a word edgewise. "okay, weirdo. go on?"

"the manager position is still open," he huffs. he's still embarrassingly red; his heart has not yet calmed down. “if you want.”

"mm, i don't know, baby, i'll have to think about it."

he will die. or he will run into oncoming traffic and die. this is so unfair, it's torture—

"thanks for walking me back, baby, i'll see ya."

he trips and falls on his face. "fuck— i mean, see you later!"

"you seem awfully happy today," kenma observes. "did something happen?"

"what? no, why?" he splutters. splotches of red begin to appear on his face, and kenma smirks.

"sure."

"say, kenma."

"what?" he sounds annoyed even though he's the one who started this conversation.

"how do you deal with y/n's nicknames?"

"what d'you mean? they're okay."

silence. kuroo rolls this new piece of information over in his mind. "so... you don't feel like exploding or dying every time she calls you, like, baby or something?"

kenma looks confused. "no? i think that's called a crush, kuro. also you know she said she thinks that's too romantic for her friends, so no, 'cause she doesn't even call any of us that— are you okay?"

"kenma."

"what?"

"shut up."

kuroo is pretty. it's not an unknown fact, and you, having known him for several years at this point, are no stranger to it either. with sly honey-brown eyes and bedhead that he manages to make look good in a way that you just cannot fathom, he is — in short — just your type. this is also where you shamefully admit that yes, even his derisive remarks and general air of disdain when it comes to his opponents is very attractive indeed. not to mention his biceps— actually, let's not go there.

but biceps or not, he has been driving you insane as of late. and now, it's apparent that you're finally getting to return the favour. you're not stupid; you've been noticing his reactions to the nickname from the start. and it's almost satisfying to be able to toy with him the way he's — unintentionally — been doing with you. maybe he'll even catch the hints you've been dropping if he's lucky.

meanwhile, it's taken kuroo exactly one hour and twenty-three minutes to desensitize himself to (the thought) of your voice. anyways, it's not like he'll see you any time soon, so it's okay. first there's volleyball practice, then he'll go straight to bed.

kuroo hates himself — it's like everything he does comes back to bite him in the ass. or rather, in the lungs this time, question mark. because as he struggles to breathe properly, you're waving at him from across the gymnasium in a very oversized NEKOMA jacket.

"i thought about it it!" you yell. "i'll be temporarily managing the team!"

maybe he should quit.

author's note :: whenever i'm describing kuroo i swear i start typing w one hand😭😭 reader's pov was NAWT necessary to the story i just wanted to salivate over him ok.

also this is going to be a series so like :) that's why there's nothing major here really

[snowsinterlude]

kissing leaf. - c.s

(coriolanus snow x reader)

summary: due to pressure over your poor doll heart, being under the kissing leaf with coriolanus snow felt like the end of the world. even worse when your colleagues started cheering you both to kiss.

c.w: enemies to lovers (they're in denial lol), kissing, fluff, just a light hearted way to say merry christmas to you guys, bpth under pressure

celebrating christmas on the academy felt like a fever dream to you. seriously, who would want to spend such a special time inside an academy instead of your house, with your loved ones?

well, it seemed like the entire academy did.

you were helping with all the ornaments, putting the star on top of the tree woth the help of sejanus and festus, never once stopping to talk to the platinum blonde boy that already collided on you three times. you didn't even stop on your tracks to tell him to look where he's going, you didn’t want to ruin your christmas with cat fights with him.

"snow!" you heard clementia call, and he turned to look at her, making your face meet his chest and almost fall, haven't it been his desperate hold on your waist. you could see clementia and the others smiling as they saw your hands holding his shoulders, which only made you get away from him. "no no, y.n. stay there." and you obeyed, like a pathetic dog.

"what are you doing?" you asked, looking at her devilish smile.

"a prank." she chuckled, pointing at the top of your heads. coriolanus was the first to see, but he kept himself calm, you, on the other hand, panicked as you tried to go away, which didn't work as everyone was surrounding you and pulling you back to under the kissing leaf.

"that's childish. i'm not gonna kiss her." he said, not bothering to look at him. you didn't know that he was as desperate as you. "there's not a single reason for you guys to do that with us."

"ah, there is, actually." arachne pronounced herself, arms crossed and a big smile on her lips. "we're tired of your cat fights. there's nothing better to restart between you both than with a kiss."

"no, i don't- we don't wanna do that." you said. he turned to you, brow arched.

"you don't?" he asked.

"ooh, so he does want it!" festus teased.

"no i don't!" he said, looking at him. you felt anxious once everybody started to scream, cheering you both to kiss. you panicked even more, pulling him by the new tie he wore and slamming your lips against his, for his surprise. and for yours, he kissed you back.

🎀.

"hey" he called, finding you on the library. you felt absolutely humiliated, god, what have you done? you just gave everybody a reason to joke with your face and say you were actually in love with him.

"what do you want?..." you asked, not looking at him even if he sat by your side. "haven't we been humiliated enough? do you want to give them more reasons?"

"god, stop being so dumb." he said, rolling his eyes and sighing

"what do you mean by that? i'm not dumb. i am second place to you on classes but-" he shut you up, his hands grabbing your shoulders when you finally looked at him and you spend at least 5 seconds blinking during the kiss he gave you, shutting them close when the kiss deepened.

oh. that's what he meant when he called you dumb. you didn't notice how he was always laughing when you both would debate- it wasn't a way to call you dumb. but more as in-

"i like you." he said, finally.

oh.

"i..." you blinked rapidly. wasn't it too quick? ah, it wasn't. you both spent three years on this already. "i like you too."

[choke-me-joey]

Matching Tattoos

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, DO NOT GIVE ANYONE OR YOURSELF TATTOOS AT HOME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO A PROFESSIONAL THIS IS FICTION AND A VERY UNHYGIENIC SITUATION FOR NEW TATTOOS, blowjobs, gagging, swallowing, friends to lovers, Eddie is so fucking sweet, porn with some plot followed by fluff.

Part 2

"Isn't she pretty?" Eddie grins, producing the homemade tattoo gun from under his bed. Pretty was a very strong word. More like a clump of sketchy looking metal held together with even sketchier looking screws and rubber bands.

You scoff. "If you think she's pretty I'm seriously starting to question your taste, Munson. Going from Chrissy Cunningham to this? That's quite a decline."

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"You're never going to drop that are you? Chrissy was a 5 minute crush, besides, she's been dating that douchebag Jason Carver for ages now." Eddie waves his hand to signify his distate. "Anyway, nowadays my taste is more...refined, thank you very much. Hence why I am going through the world's longest dry spell at the moment. Now shut up, and get on the bed. We're doing this." He buzzes the tattoo gun for extra effect.

"Yessir." Giving him a cheeky salute, you lie down on Eddie's bed as he messes around with the ink, and something crinkles beneath you. Your brow furrows as you dig underneath you, and you pull out a dog eared magazine. You flick through the pages, your cheeks flushing. "Jesus, Eddie, resorting to porno mags? You really are suffering." You throw the crusty magazine at him, laughing. Eddie quickly kicks it under his bed.

"What? I got needs, Y/N, and its not exactly like there's a line of babes wanting to fuck the town freak."

"Not even with the whole struggling rockstar vibe you've got going on?" You cock your eyebrow, shooting him a smirk.

"Right? I should be drowning in pussy," he grins, and you roll your eyes. "Still want it on your hip, right?"

"As long as it can be covered by a bathing suit so my parents don't murder me, have at it."

Eddie gulps as you unbutton your jeans, shimmying your hips out of them and exposing your simple black panties to him. You then roll your shirt up your stomach and tie it in a knot to prevent it from getting in his way.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen you like this before, he'd seen you in a bathing suit hundreds of times but this....this was different. This was you, half naked, on his bed. You that Eddie had been harbouring a crush on for a good year or so now, hence the dry spell. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted you, his best friend, his partner in crime, his girl. Nobody in this deadbeat town even came close, not anymore.

He was ashamed to even admit that the magazine you'd fished out from his bed was merely a distraction tool. So many nights he'd fucked his fist thinking of you, the way your body glistened in the sun that time when you sunbathed out the back of his trailer in that black bikini, the way your breasts threatened to spill out of the cups and your ass peeked out from the bottoms that left very little to the imagination.

He had to get you out of his head. It was sick, it was wrong, you were his best friend. His beautiful, funny, smart, sexy as hell best friend. If he had to beat off to some random chick in a disgustingly cheap porno magazine just to stop him thinking about you, so be it.

But honestly, when you'd asked him to give you a tattoo on your hip, the magazines just weren't doing it anymore.

Eddie cleared his throat. "You sure about this Y/N?"

"Eddie, shut up and ink me already," you smile, playfully nudging him with your foot. "You drew it up, yeah?"

"One bat comin' at ya," Eddie grins, showing you the little stencil he'd drawn. It was an exact copy of the largest bat out of the swarm on his arm. "You know we can never not be friends after this right? Matching tattoos is a pretty big commitment."

"Until death do us part." You teased.

"I fuckin' do," Eddie kissed your hand, making you snort. Your friendship had always been like this, flirty to the point where people were always wondering if you were together or not. But that's all it ever was, all bark and no bite per say. "Can you move your, uh, your-"

"Panties, Eddie? For someone who used the phrase 'drowning in pussy' earlier I refuse to believe 'panties' gets you all flustered." You tease, pushing down your panties and exposing your skin to him.

Eddie can feel his palms sweating as your panties slip dangerously low, almost exposing that dip between your legs. His mouth is as dry as the fucking desert when he catches a glimpse of your smooth, soft skin. God, he wants to put his mouth there. He wants to put his mouth all over you actually. He coughs once more.

"Right, let's do this, pretty girl." He carefully cleans the area you want tattooed with some antiseptic liquid before laying the stencil down, carefully pulling it away to reveal the outline on your skin. "Looks metal, babe, you ready?"

You nod, clutching his comforter in one hand as he brings the needle to your skin and the buzzing starts. You bite your lip as you feel the needle meet your flesh, a searing burning pain but not too unbearable.

As he drags the needle across your soft skin, Eddie is sweating. He's so close to a part of you he desperately wants to explore, to kiss and lick and make you scream his name until you're sobbing in ecstasy. But he can't. Why would someone like you ever be interested in the town freak? The nerdy metalhead that spends his free time planning extensive D&D campaigns, or playing in shitty dive bars to a crowd of not even 10 people didn't compare to the jocks who went to endless parties, or did something better than spending their spring break in their trailer getting high and watching horror movies.

"Whatcha thinking about, handsome?" Your sweet, sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at you. God, you look like a fucking angel right now, all draped across his bed with your hair over his pillow. He knows he'll be able to smell the shampoo you use on that later.

Eddie, always one to almost never lose his cool, shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Thinkin' about how I could tattoo my name on you, pretty Make sure everyone knows who's girl you are."

"Everyone already knows, I've only got eyes for you, dungeon master."

Fuck, he wishes you wouldn't call him that. Not like this anyway. Not with this amount clothes on. Or not on.

"Less of the dirty talk, you. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growls, wiping the residual ink off your skin, refilling and continuing his work. You try to ignore the throbbing in your panties and how good his hands feel on your bare skin.

-

35 minutes later, it's Eddie's turn. After cleaning and covering your new artwork, you get yourself dressed (much to Eddie's disappointment) and turn to him with a wicked grin.

"Pants off, Munson."

"Yes, ma'am." Copying your salute from earlier, he unbuckles his handcuff belt and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of them and tossing them somewhere in his room. He also pulls off his Hellfire shirt. You raise an eyebrow. "What? Can't risk anything happening to it, I gotta wait another week before I can get more!"

"Alright, nerd, lie down." You smile, rummaging around in your bag for the little design you'd drawn up for him. You pass the small design of the devil from the Hellfire logo to him and he grins.

"That's metal."

"So metal that nobody is gonna see it unless they're going down on you."

"Yeah, but we'll know it's there. It'll be like our dirty little secret, Y/N."

"Hot," you laugh as Eddie lies down, putting his arms behind his head. He tilts his head down towards his hips.

"Get to work, missy."

You'd been practising on that gross fake skin stuff in preparation for this, but nothing could have prepared you for touching Eddie...here. His skin was so soft and warm, and he smelled so good. A mix of his old cologne he'd gotten from you last Christmas, smoke and a hint of sweat. It was so Eddie, it made your heart flutter and somewhere else flutter too.

You think Eddie takes the needle like a champ, but when you look up at him about 20 minutes later, his eyes are screwed shut.

"Hurt that much?" You grin and he shakes his head, eyes still closed.

"Nah, babe, honestly, I'm...fine." He hesitates. You stop for a second, tilting your head to the side in question. You go to wipe off some of the excess ink and your arm brushes over his boxers accidentally.

Oh.

"Eddie, are you-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, don't talk about it." Eddie chokes out, his cheeks flushing. His loose plaid boxers had done a good job of hiding his semi, but when you'd brushed against it, it was game over.

Eddie was hard.

"I-is this like a normal reaction to getting tattooed, or...?" You stutter, your mouth feeling dryer than fucking Gandhi's flip flop.

Eddie sighs, throwing an arm over his face.

"No, it's a normal reaction to a very, very pretty girl hovering near my dick, babe." He says in a small voice. Your cheeks flush as you place the tattoo gun down on his bedside table.

"O-oh. Well, do you want me t-to stop? Or I could help with...I could help you with that?"

Eddie groans behind his arm.

"Babe, don't tease me like that, that's just cruel. 'Sides, wouldn't you feel...weird jerking me off?"

Your mind had not gone to jerking him off. In fact, it had gone a step further.

"Oh, I-I wasn't...I was gonna, um-"

"Blow me?!" Eddie throws his arm off of his face and stares at you, and you pretend you don't notice his cock jumping in his boxers. "You, my super hot best friend Y/N, are seriously offering to suck my dick right now?!"

"I-I’m sorry-"

"Sorry?! What the fuck are you sorry for?! Making all my wet dreams come true?!"

You giggle. "Eddie, shut up."

"No, I'm serious, Y/N, you've been in here-" he sits up and taps the side of his head "-doing some nasty shit for so fucking long. Why do you think I'm jacking off to shitty porno mags instead of chasing pussy?"

You're silent, a slow smile spreading across your face as your hand creeps over his crotch, gently palming at his cock which jumps in your hand.

"Well, lucky for you, dungeon master, you've also been the star of my wet dreams."

Eddie falls back onto his pillows with a groan. "Fuck, I can't believe this is actually fucking happening."

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Eds." Your voice is low and sultry as you give him a squeeze. He looks at you, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. You tug at his boxers, giving him a questioning look. He grabs your wrist.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? Cos if it's a choice between getting off, or keeping you as my best friend, I'd rather keep you babe. Blue balls and all."

You smile softly; Eddie was too sweet for his own good. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

"What about if you get to get off and still keep me?" You say, pushing his hand away and slowly pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach. He was long and thick, uncut with an upwards curve that the very sighmade your pussy clench. You huff out an exasperated laugh. "Holy shit, Eds."

"Good 'holy shit', or bad 'holy shit'?" Eddie's cheeks are flushed as he smirks.

"You know the answer to that." You wrap your hand around his cock, making him hiss as you stroke the silky skin. You pull the foreskin down to expose his angry looking, reddish purple mushroom head, and a drop of precum blurts out. You continue to stroke him, eyes fixed on his face.

"Fuck, stop looking at me like that," Eddie groans, his cock twitching in your hand. "'S too much."

"Like what?" You smirk, straddling his thighs. He can't answer you, any sort of answer immediately wiped from his brain as you lower your mouth to the head of his cock and lick, tasting him for the first time. His hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, making you gag out of surprise.

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie gasps. "Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, don't be surprised if I come like, super quick, okay? Been thinking about this for so fucking long you have no idea. And you look....God, you looking so fucking beautiful right now."

You shoot him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cock before taking him into your mouth properly, swallowing as much of him down as you can.

Eddie's hand comes to your hair, gently stroking it as you bob your head up and down. The flavour of him blooms over your tongue and makes you hum in appreciation.

"Fuck, babe, your mouth...shit, it's so fucking good, taking my cock so well..."

You pull up and suckle the head, flicking your tongue over the slit. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

You smirk, pulling back and pursing your lips, allowing a glob of spit to fall from your mouth onto the head, dribbling down the shaft. Eddie falls back onto the pillows. "That's it, you've killed me, you're blowing a dead man, baby."

"A dead man who's gonna come in my mouth, right?" You mumble, jerking him quickly, your spit allowing your hand to slide over his shaft with ease. Eddie keens, his teeth gritted.

"You can't say shit like that, angel, I'm about ready to blow as it is."

"Do it, I want it." You reply, taking his cock into the warmth of your mouth once more. You allow him to fuck your face, both hands now resting on the back of your head as you swallowed around him.

"Shit, fuck, oh my fucking god, baby, Y/N, I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so fucking hard in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah? God, you're such a good girl, so good f'me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!"

Eddie comes with a broken moan, his hips thrusting upwards and his hands holding you in place as his cock pumps rope after rope of cum down your throat. You moan, relishing the taste of him, which makes Eddie shudder at the overstimulation. You swallow everything he gives you. "Fuck, sweetheart, can you show me?"

You begrudgingly take your mouth off of his cock and open your mouth, tilting your head back slightly and sticking your tongue out to show him that you had indeed swallowed his cum. "Holy shit. I'm gonna get hard again." He groans, his chest heaving and his cock twitching slightly. You giggle and place a kiss to it, and Eddie grabs you, pulling you on top of him, careful to avoid the new ink. "I can kiss you, right?"

"I think we're past that, Eddie" You smile and squeak in surprise as he pulls your face to his, capturing your lips in a hasty kiss. It's a chaste kiss, experimental and you break away briefly. His eyes lock with yours, as if he was trying to search them to see if this was okay. "It's okay, Eds" you whisper, nodding gently. His eyes dart to your mouth and back up to your eyes.

"Do I get to keep you?" He whispers, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. You brush your nose against his.

"You get to keep me."

[za-vandal]

Self indulgent, Pre-release Mr Reca thoughts (and hopefully prayers for me, because this man makes me salivate.)

Nsfw don't like don't read

This is filthy as hell.

Pet play, dacryphilia, and probably a few more I hadn't think of yet, this is a wild ride

I wanna make this man whimper so hard you have no fucking idea, this man makes me feral. I want to see him on the floor like a dog for me just augghhhhhhhhhh

Anyways.

Mr Reca with pet play. You saw the trailer, you will see the vision. Crazy director man who probably has a thing for controlling things because of his personality (maybe) or profession? Sign me the fuck up. I want to see this twink with a collar and leash. I want to fuck him hard and make him whimper and call him a pathetic little puppy. I want to make him wear a tail plug.

Or, alternatively, make him hump my shoe while he wears some fluffy dog ears. I see him as a dog boy, I have no idea why, but he gives possessive dog boy vibes. Bear with me here. Make him a custom collar or thigh straps with your name on it. I mean he already has them in his daily outfit, it would just make sense y'know?

Mr Reca with dacryphilia because I like my men crying and in pain. That thing about men whimpering and whining being hot is my whole personality when I'm reading fics, that is my vanilla, let's go. I want to see this pretty man crying while I suck him dry, I want to kiss his tears away while I prevent him from coming over and over. And by gods above I want to see this man full on bawling after all the overstim. Kiss away the tears because I'm soft like that.

Mr Reca but we tie him up with his straps. Why does one man need that many straps anyways? Or hell, his jacket thing works too, that shit def looks hot if he wore it without a shirt underneath like the back is 80% open, it covers nothing but it's giving everything fr. Y'all think we can hang him up with just his straps? Fuck him hard while he's up?

Mr Reca but we def filming, I shit you not that is the thing that started this post. Use his phone, your phone, do it on a private Livestream for yourself, use his freaking cameras, do it on set let's goooooooooo. I wanna watch him write his scripts as we fuck, let him sit on your dick if you can, if not cockwarm him instead. We winning no matter what. Make that man struggle and whimper, we ✨love✨ whimpering men in this house. If he feels generous maybe he'll let us wrap him up with his film tape of him being fucked and takes pictures with it. He probably won't though, but he'll probably keep them~♡ I wanna see him drool on camera so I can zoom in on his face and take pictures of it.

Mr Reca and a breeding kink???? A height difference and size kink??? I can see this going both ways. I feel like it's less breeding kink, and more he likes the feeling of cum. How to explain this? No clue. But I just think he would. Let him suck you off or eat you out, get his face wet~

For the size/height kink I think it goes both ways. I think he doesn't really care if you're smaller than him or bigger than him, he just likes it y'know? Maybe you're smaller than him but you can fuck his brains out. Maybe you're tall enough you can lift him up and fuck him against the wall without his feet touching the floor. ✨Just difference in general✨ baby. Bonus points too if you're big, I feel like he'll enjoy getting squished. Doesn't matter if you're masc or femme leaning and/or presenting, he likes getting squished.

And I hadn't really started on the real size kink idea yet, damn. Okay, size kink when he sees his stomach having a bulge as you fuck him. We love a skinny twink. I think he would see it and his mind would just go blank, like, "what the fuck, you're that big" kinda thing. Strap on or not, I think the surprise factor of seeing it is something he likes.

Mr Reca with mirrors. Listen. Trust me. Mirrors. I just love watching this unhinged man get his mind fogged by pleasure. This is a thing I love. I wanna see his face and watch him cry and watch him struggle. We've seen how deranged this man is in the trailer, now let's fuck him up literally so we can see his face more. Do it against those big, wall length mirrors you see in dancing studios if he's working on a musical or something. Do it in one of his trailers while he's out filming on set, bonus if it's not even room and we just press him against a random ahh mirror in a random trailer for costume and makeup.

I blame the unhinged energy today on my exams.

Hope you enjoyed? Well, technically I wrote this for myself but, sure. Posting this for funsies.

[bunnys-kisses]

I LOVE YOU AND ALL YOUR WORK THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH YOU DESERVE ALL THE KISSES IN THE WORLD YOU ARE A GENIUS

could i pleeaaasee get a vanilla cheesecake, berry trifle, and blueberry muffins with a side of bubble tea and a milkshake with toto? 🥹🍰🧋(sorry if it's too big of an order 😭 feel free not to serve all of them if you don't want to!

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then check out the menu for more information! hit me up with your requests! thank you to @forza55 for the request! i love what you've submitted to me and i hope you love the fic in return! thank you! thank you!

vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) + milkshake (size kink) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, size kink, daddy kink, dom/sub, dom!toto, sub!reader, age gap (20/50), oral sex (toto receives), punishments, dirty talk, references to sugar daddy

"princess." he said as he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. you two were in italy for the weekend. not for any particular race, but rather for a small getaway before he went back to his duties as the head principal.

you two had gone out for the night, the summer air of the coast felt good on your warm skin for the day at the beach. but, over dinner, you were so talkative to the waiter.

you flashed him your lovely smile and seemed to be more focused on him than your lover across from you. well, that was what toto thought. in reality you knew the waiter, he was studying abroad and went to the same university you went to. you were more catching up than flirting.

but your older boyfriend could tell that the other man wanted more than a few extra euros. he could see him staring at your cleavage peeking out of your dress. but you believed it was all in toto's head.

now back at the hotel room you were staying at, you were knelt between his legs, where you belonged. he sighed and asked, "where are your manners? you don't go around flirting with strange men, they could hurt you, princess."

"toto-"

"wrong. try again." he corrected you. now was not the time to call him by his proper name. not when you've been misbehaving so much this evening. he gripped onto the back of your head and said, "not the right name."

you looked up at him, trying to give him your best puppy dog eyes. you said, "sorry, daddy. i promise he wasn't going to hurt me! i knew him from school."

toto gripped a little harder and said, "you need to learn to behave, little one. the more you act out, the harder the punishments will get. and i don't want to have to tie you up for being such a little brat."

"i'm sorry, daddy. really, i didn't know." you pouted at him and you then rubbed your cheek up against his inner thigh.

he sighed and pushed your face a little closer to the bulge in his slacks, "you've been a bad girl, princess. i treat you so good and i expect obedience in return." he rubbed your face up against the front of his pants and you whimpered.

"i'm sorry, daddy." you whimpered as you felt his cock twitched against your face. when he let you go, you moved your head back and started to work on getting his fly open.

"see, i know you can be my sweet princess." he said softly, "you can be so good for me." he cupped your face and brought it closer to his now exposed cock. and you took that as permission to start to suck him off.

your wrapped your lips around his cock and started to move your head quickly, mindful of your teeth. you whimpered and felt heat curled in your gut as you gave him head.

you had to be mindful of your teeth or toto would give your behind a good few slaps. you groaned against his cock and felt the spit on your chin as you tried to get the tip the back of your throat.

"i know you can be good for me. i spend a lot to keep you happy, princess." he shifted in his seat as you took him to the root. your eyes closed and he groaned, "you're meant to look pretty on your knees and let me fuck you."

he continued to rock your head against his cock, feeling your lips on his length. it felt very good.

"i like when you're my princess, when i get to spoil you and make you feel good." he tapped you on the nose, "it's hard do that when you are trying to seduce other men."

you knew that toto spoiled you, he loved how sweet you were to him (when you were good) and he in turn spoiled the daylights out of you. he wanted to make sure that you were well behaved, it was hard to do that when he thought you were being a total slut.

bad, bad girl. his naughty little princess.

he watched you take down his cock like a champ and felt his heart racing in his chest. you felt like a dream about his cock, the shiver slid down his spine and he could feel the throb in his body.

"beautiful." he groaned, "you know how badly i need you, you are such a good girl. but, i can only spoil you when you behave, correct?"

you looked at him and rubbed your thighs together. you nodded with his cock in your throat as you felt the heat in your belly. your cheeks felt stained with a blush as he continued to hit the back of your throat.

spit stained your chin as you tried to keep up with his aggressive pace. the sweat on your back felt noticeable the more you orally pleasured him. the entire feeling left you yearning for more.

you knew that if you behaved then you'd get all the orgasms you needed. you felt the pleasure in your blood as you maintained eye contact with your lover. he moved your head to his liking.

he looked down at you and swallowed, "see, this is how you behave, princess." then gave you a few taps on the face that made your stomach curl with an intense need.

you whined a little and shifted on your knees. you held onto his strong thighs. toto was big in so many ways, he practically had to bend down to kiss you, his cock always felt too big in your pussy and even bigger in your throat. those large hands could do some damage when they landed on your backside. you were so small compared to him, and he loved that.

after all, you were his princess.

you whined around his cock once more and felt it shoved into your throat. you felt tears in your eyes as his pace got more aggressive, he knew he was going to cum.

"finally behaved for me."

you felt warmth in your gut from his compliment. he could be so sweet to you, even when he was choking you with his cock.

he pushed the tip as far as it would get and came down your throat. you almost choked on it cum down your throat, you whimpered and felt your eyes sting. when he let go of your head, you sputtered and coughed. your chest was heaving as he looked at you.

"daddy."

he licked his lips and said, "i know, princess. i know it is hard for girls like you to behave. you need a strong hand to guide you. my stupid little schatzi." he chuckled and little before he grabbed a hold of you to put you onto his lap.

his softening, leaky cock was pressed against your behind. be careful there princess don't him excited or you'll be spending the rest of your time in italy between the sheets <3

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Space for two (NSFW)

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

A continuation of the weekend with the Weasley twins. Things can get pretty heated when you’re in bed with your kinky boyfriend and his, equally kinky, twin.

T/W: nsfw (under 16’s dni), dom Fred, dom George, Degradation, spanking, bondage, fingering, male masturbation, nipple play, sir kink, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, stomach bulge?, oral (male receiving)

A/N: this isnt be a series, just me writing a little part 2 for this idea. Thank you all for the likes and support with Room for Two, i'm writing this as a mini celebration for 500 likes.

1.4K words

“My Turn, Kitten”

George pulled out of your puffy cunt, swapping places with his brother and sitting in the chair opposite the bed that Fred had occupied before. Fred knelt behind you and saw his brothers cum slowly leak from deep inside you, making him smirk.

“Bet you loved that, you little slut. Being used by my brother felt good, didn’t it?”

When you meekly nodded, Fred harshly slapped your ass, making you jolt and yelp. George smirked from his place in the chair, enjoying how fucked out he could make you.

“Good little sluts use their words, don't they Kitten? Don't you want to be a good girl for Freddie and me?” George cooed mockingly, his smirk turning sadistic as he saw you nod eagerly before muttering a small “Yes Sir, wanna be a good girl for you both”. Fred chuckled before pulling you to lay on your back, taking off his orange tie. He pulled you by your wrists to the bed frame before tying them tightly, leaving you without the use of your arms. Fred and George both admired the sight of you, naked, vulnerable, and extremely horny. Fred sat back down by your side, running his hand up along your stomach to grope your breasts.

“Tell me Kitten, you liked when Georgie fucked you, didnt you?” Fred spoke calmly, his hand still toying with your nipples, pulling small breathy moans and whimpers from you.

When you didn't answer fast enough, Fred pinched and tugged on your sensitive nipples, making you yelp and whimper.

“Felt so good sir”

Freds grin widened and he trailed his hand down to your aching clit. He plunged two fingers inside of your pussy, causing you to let out a pornographic moan. His fingers pumped in and out without stopping, curling to press that spot inside of you that had your legs trembling. Fred’s other hand trailed up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently, not enough to hurt, but enough to have you clench around his fingers.

From the end of the bed, you could hear George's grunts and heavy breathing. You take a chance to look down, only to find George stroking his cock. Precum gathered at his tip, making your mouth water. Fred had fucked your throat many times, but would his twin brother taste the same?

Both twins watched you intently, not missing a single thing you did. They both saw how desperate you were. Fred had once mentioned to George about your ‘oral fixation’, but that look in your eye just proved it. You were like a dog with a treat.

George only snickered at that look on your face and stood up from the chair, favouring to kneel on the other side of the bed next to you. He smirked at how your eyes remained glued to his cock. He moved closer, revelling in the way you tried to move forward to taste him, but whining once your tied wrists pulled you back. Fred pulled his fingers out of you and spanked your already sore and throbbing clit, making you cry out and close your legs.

“What's the matter, kitten? Thought you wanted Georgie in your slutty mouth? Or do you want him to finish on those perfect tits like a dirty whore? Fred stroked your cheek in mock affection. All you could do was whine and try to lean closer with your mouth open, hoping that George would comply and give you what you want.

But if pranksters are good at one thing, it's teasing.

“Go on then, slut, if you want it that badly. Suck his cock”. Freds teasing in your ear made you whimper, desperately fighting against the binds on your wrists to just get a taste. George leaned forward, letting your tongue swipe against his tip before leaning back again, taking your desire for more with him. Before you could whine and beg for more, Fred got between your legs and slid his cock along your dripping folds. Fred leaned closer, his breath fanning your already red cheeks. “Bet you’d love nothing more than to have Georgie between your legs again, letting him fuck you until you’re sore. Who do you prefer, Kitten, your boyfriend or his brother? Who do you want to fuck you? Who do you want to cum deep inside of you until you’re swollen?”

“Want you, sir. Want you to fuck me and make me full. Want you deep ins-” Your pleas were cut off by your loud moan, caused by Fred ramming into you, not stopping until he was balls deep. His smirk grew when he saw your expression slowly turn to nothing but bliss, your need for begging forgotten as his cock felt too good to remember what you were begging for. He noticed the bulge in your belly from his tip pressing deep into your cervix. He pressed down on it, making you whimper and squirm beneath him. George stayed on the bed beside you, holding your head in place by taking a grip of your hair. He angled your head just right, giving you a view of Fred's cock as he slowly started to pull out, giving you an empty feeling that was only temporary.

Fred’s slow and deep thrusts, along with George's grip on your hair, had your eyes rolling back and your toes curling. You wish your hands weren't tied above your head so that you could hold onto either twin. Fred slowly increased his pace. Slow, deep thrusts turning quick and merciless as his cock pounded away at your insides. You were getting closer and closer with every thrust, still pent up from Fred's fingers teasing you earlier.

“Please Sir, need to cum. Please let me cum, Freddie, Georgie, please”. Your begging slowly became unintelligible babbling that made both boys chuckle. Fred kept his brutal pace while George held your hair with one hand, his other teasing and pinching your nipples. George decided to put you out of your misery with one little word.

“Cum”

Pornographic moans fell from your lips as your body trembled, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Your walls convulsed and gushed around Freds cock, causing him to groan and cum deep inside of you with one final thrust. His cum soothed your raw insides as he slowly pulled out, rubbing his hand on your thigh comfortingly. But George wasn't done.

George untied your hands and pulled your head into his crotch, immediately slipping his cock between your wet and open lips. You didn't have enough time to prepare and gagged softly as his tip nestled itself snugly into your throat. You flattened your tongue to lick the underside of his shaft as best you could with his rough thrusts. His precum had already stained the back of your throat, leaving you with the permanent taste of him. Although he and his brother were twins, they did taste uniquely different. But both tastes were tastes that you wouldn't mind having again, as embarrassing as that is to admit when talking about the taste of cum from your boyfriend and his twin. George's thrusts got sloppier and his cum forced its way down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow it down, not like you wouldn't have anyway.

Something the Weasley twins had in common (apart from appearance and cheekiness) was that they were both cuddlebugs after sex. Fred pulled you by your waist into his embrace, whilst George spooned you from behind. The smell of sex mixed in with the comforting scent of both twins. The room that was once filled with squelches and moans was now filled with heavy breathing and praises from either twin about how good their little Kitten was.

If this was just one weekend, you'd definitely ask about moving in.

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