#all that to say if shes off key it's not my fault. its because she doesnt WANT to be on key apparently

[blueskittlesart]

post about how many vocaloid voicebanks i have is circulating so i guess i have to start actually using them again. this one uses gumi kaito and technically miku but just as a clone of the gumi track for more dimension bc gumi sounds flat as fuck on her own lmao

[moonlightspencie]

don't want you like a best friend

Description: James is nervous about his inexperience with girls. Luckily he has a best friend who's more than willing to help. (based on an idea formed in part by @amiableness. check out the post)

Pairing: best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: DESPERATE!james, inexperienced!james, blowjob (m receiving), porn with barely any plot

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: kind of muggle!au? doesn't really matter in the context of this though lmao

You walked into James's flat, quite pleased he'd given you a key. It was much easier to bother him whenever you pleased when you could just waltz in any time.

"James!" you called out, toeing off your shoes.

"In here!" he shouted back.

You followed his voice to his room, seeing him laying on his tummy watching tv. You ran up to his bed and flopping down on it next to him. He laughed in that squeaky, joyful way he only ever seemed to do around you.

"Hi," he greeted with a cheeky smile.

"Hi," you replied with an equal grin, then glanced at the television. "What are you watching?"

"Nature documentary about penguins," he responded simply.

You glanced up at him with a quirked brow. "Why?"

"Cause I like penguins," he shrugged.

"...we need to get you a girlfriend."

He went a little quiet, prompting you to look at him again. You tilted your head.

"James?"

He chewed his lip. "I– I do kind of have a date. Tomorrow."

"What?" you exclaimed, suddenly sitting up straight. "Who? Since when?"

His cheeks went a little pink. "Sirius set it up for me."

"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'm nervous!"

You chuckled softly, still in a bit of disbelief. The boy had been single for far too long in your opinion, especially considering how much girls threw themselves at him in school. He always said that it was just because he had high standards, but part of you was half-convinced he must be terrified of girls. Or commitment. Maybe both.

"I just... I can't believe it. Is she cute?"

He almost grimaced. Not a great sign.

"Uh oh," you snorted a laugh.

"It's not that she's ugly! She's... she is pretty, its just," he sighed, shrugging a little, "she's not really my type, I guess."

"At this point, I'm beginning to believe you don't have a type."

He frowned. "Hey."

"Just saying, James. You never date, and it's not for lack of girls who like you."

"I kind of have to like them back for that to work."

"You sure you're not scared of girls?" you asked with a laugh.

He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "No."

"Commitment?"

"No."

"...Sex?"

"Ugh, don't say that," he groaned, dropping his face against the mattress.

You laughed again. "Sounds like a yes. It's really not that scary."

"It's kinda scary," he mumbled against his comforter.

"James," you called quietly, resting your cheek on the mattress to look at him.

He turned his face towards you, his cheeks pink and his hair even messier than usual. His lips were slightly pouty. Frankly, it was absolutely adorable.

"Everyone but me has done it at this point. The furthest I ever got was touching a boob over clothes in fifth year."

You couldn't help but to laugh at that, causing him to whine your name in protest.

"Sorry..." you said, not all that apologetic. "It's just... cute. You get so flustered. It's really not a big deal."

"It is a big deal to me."

"Aw. I'm sorry, Jamie. I just mean that nobody's going to fault you for being inexperienced."

"They might!"

"No they won't."

"You don't know that."

"At any rate, I think it's sweet."

"But I'm not having sex with you," he argued, then snapped his mouth shut, his cheeks going even darker. "That sounds... I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," you ran a hand through his hair, and he leaned into the touch. "I just mean to say that I'm sure if I think it's sweet, other girls would also probably think it's cute."

"I'm a man. I shouldn't be cute, I should be... strong and masculine. Hot."

"You're very hot, James."

He sighed, still pouting a little.

"Put that lip away," you muttered, tapping his bottom lip.

"You're being mean."

"No, I'm not."

"You're teasing me," he pouted again.

"What? How?"

"You're very hot, James," he mocked in an overly-high-pitched voice.

You snorted a laugh. "Heaven forbid I tell my hot best friend that he is, in fact, hot."

He fell quiet for a moment. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do."

"Mm," he hummed softly, then sighed. "Why can't there be more girls like you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, smiling curiously.

"You're always so sweet to me. I just wish there were more girls who act like you, cause then I could just... do it with them and not be so worried about it."

You raised your brows, trying to hold back another laugh. "Oh, really?"

"Don't tease me."

"I'm not. Just, why don't–" you stopped abruptly.

He looked at you with wide eyes. "What?"

"If you're so worried about getting your first time over with, then why don't you just do it with me?"

He looked like he got the wind knocked out of him in that moment, blinking a few times as if he was trying to wake up from a dream. He opened his mouth a few times, though no sound came out.

"I just mean that... you said you'd do it with a girl like me, so why not me? You trust me, I know what I'm doing, you know I won't judge," you listed off some reasons. "It could work, you know?"

"Cause you're... you're my best friend."

"And?"

"And friends don't do that."

"Friends do that all the time," you replied with a shrug.

"What?" he asked, looking totally mortified.

"Friends have sex all the time."

"Since when?"

"Since forever," you chuckled a little. "I'm not saying we have to. Just putting it out there, since you're so nervous about it and all."

"I–I don't..."

"You don't have to say yes."

"I know," he nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. "It's just... I don't think I'm ready to do all of that right now."

You smile a little. "I'm not saying I'd take you to pound town right now..."

"Ugh," he groaned.

"Sorry. I just mean to say that, if you wanted to, we could start slow. Work you up to the main event."

He chewed his lip, looking away from you. You sighed softly, then stood from the bed.

"Alright. Let's go and grab a snack or something and take your mind off all this. Stop stressing so much," you said, trying to grab his arm to pull him up.

He shook his head. "Can't."

"What? Yes, you can."

"No, I can't," he emphasized, his cheeks still dark.

"Why not."

He stared at you for a moment, then whined, dropping his head into the comforter again. He mumbled something into the fabric, causing you to groan in annoyance.

"What are you saying? I can't hear you when you mumble."

"You don't understand," he said, looking at you again with a pouty face. "You're not a guy."

"What the hell is that supposed to... Oh," your eyes widened. You let out a disbelieving, delighted little giggle. "Are you–"

"Please don't talk about it. It'll make it worse," he said quickly in his whiny little voice.

"Aww. Poor baby."

"Stop it."

"Let me see."

His eyes widened comically. "What?"

"Let me see. Come on, turn over," you giggle, trying to turn him.

"Lovie, no, I..."

"Please?" you pouted, knowing he could never resist it.

He whined. "Please don't. It's embarrassing."

"It's hot."

He gulped. "...It is?"

You nodded. "Yeah. It's kind of flattering, too. The fact that I barely suggested it and you got all excited."

"It's not my fault. I just... my brain started thinking..."

"Yeah, brains tend to do that," you joked, relishing in him being all flustered. It was so unlike his usual demeanor. "Come on, Jamie. I just want to see."

He swallowed, nodding a little awkwardly before he turned onto his back. You smirked a little to yourself at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. You sat back on the bed right next to him, glancing back at his nervous face.

"Can I touch?"

"I... I don't know."

"Just over the pants right now."

He considered it for a few moments, before taking a deep breath, nodding.

"Okay," he said quietly, his hands balling into fists.

You smiled. "Relax."

You let your hand rest on his thigh first, watching him as his eyes trailed your every move. You slowly slid up his leg, teasingly, just so you could see him sweat a little at the thought of being touched for the first time. He was generally quite confident, but somehow missed out on anything and everything intimate outside of kissing.

He sucked in a breath as you reached his hip, looking as if he could pass out.

"Hey," you said gently, trying to catch his eye. "Take a deep breath. Relax. It's supposed to feel good."

He sniffed, nodding shakily. "Y-yeah. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, Jamie. Just... relax. Okay?"

"Okay."

You let your hand move again, barely ghosting over his bulge, the tips of your fingers touching the fabric of his sweatpants. You looked up at his face. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were wide and almost glossy. His pretty, pouty lips were just barely parted as he waited in anticipation for your next move.

You lowered your hand, gripping him gently through his pants, forcing a shaky gasp through his lips. You smirked to yourself a little, stroking him through his pants.

"Feels good, huh?" you asked in a quiet voice.

He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a pathetic little moan. You chuckled at the sound, stroking him again. He was bigger than you expected him to be, but not terribly massive. His hips bucked into your hand, another soft whine coming from him.

"Aww. You like it, huh?"

He nodded, breath coming in short.

"Can I do a little more?"

"Uh..."

"I think you'll like it."

"M-maybe," he gasped out, looking utterly wrecked already.

"Can I take off your pants?"

He looked at your face again. "Huh?"

"Can I take them off? I wanna touch you," you stated simply.

He whimpered. "Um... For... for what?"

You furrowed your brow. "So I can feel you. I just want to touch your skin. It'll feel better for you, too. You touch yourself, right?"

"I... Y-yeah. Yeah, sometimes."

"And I assume you don't do it through your pants, right?" you laugh a little.

He merely swallows, nodding dumbly. "Right."

"So... Can I touch you like that? I won't do it unless you say yes."

"Oh..." he sucked in a shaky breath. "O-okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes."

You smiled, hooking your fingers in his sweatpants and underwear. "Hips up, please."

He followed your instructions easily, lifting his hips for you. You tugged everything down in one go, leaving it all pooled at his ankles on the bed. You nearly moaned yourself when you saw him, hard and leaky and ready. You traced his dick softly with your fingertips, impressed with him, and drawing another moan from his lips.

"So pretty, Jamie. Look at you."

"Don't... fuck," he gasped. "Don't say that."

"I mean it. Your cock is perfect."

He whimpered again, sounding like he could cry. You wrapped a hand around him, stroking him softly as hips bucked into your hand, soft moans and squeaks leaving him in utter desperation.

"P-please," he begged, staring at you as if you hung the stars.

"Please?"

"I... I don't know," he shook his head, his lip quivering.

"You need more?"

He sniffled, nodding quickly. "So bad. Please."

"Can I suck your cock, love?"

The sound that left his lips was utterly pornographic, his chest heaving like he'd run a marathon.

"God..."

"That's not my name, baby," you stroke him again. "I need you to say yes if this is what you want."

"Y-yes. Fuck yes," he said, his hips still shifting under you, trying to get more friction from your hand.

"So needy," you chide jokingly, moving to settle between his legs.

He whined watching you climb between his legs, nearly hyperventilating at the sight and feeling of you kissing along his stomach with your hand pushing his shirt up.

"So pretty," he groaned, stroking your hair.

You smiled against his stomach, licking nearly up to his chest just to hear him make that sound again. You kissed back down his stomach, barely ghosting over the tip of his cock at you looked back up at him.

"Ready?"

He nodded, in a trance as he watched you. You kept his eye contact as you darted your tongue out, tasting him for the first time. He practically sobbed in pleasure, pulling on your hair slightly.

"Told you it would feel good, baby," you mutter, licking from base to tip as he squirmed under your touch. "Isn't this nice?"

"Mmmm..." he nodded, chest heaving.

"Good boy," you kissed his tip.

You stared up at him, smiling to yourself at his sweet little reactions as you started stroking him. He looked so adorable totally wrecked. Like he could pass out at any moment. You couldn't help but to want more.

You wet your lips, figuring you could probably fit most of him into your mouth in one go: so you decided to give it a go. You licked him once more, then shoved his cock down your throat, letting it hit far enough to make you gag.

He shouted, gasping for air before he fell into a puddle of moans and desperate praises of your name. You pulled off of him, but only for a second before you went back down, sucking on him as if your life depended on it. It felt like it did.

He gripped the fabric of his comforter, sobbing in pleasure as his hips jutted up into your mouth. You were about to pull off to make some sly remark, when he whimpered loudly, shooting his cum down your throat. You hummed around him, swallowing everything you could despite your utter surprise that he had finished so quickly. He whined and kept his grip tight in your hair until he was done, his seed dribbling past your lips as you couldn't quite swallow everything. You weren't sure if you'd ever witnessed someone cumming so much before.

You did your best to clean him off without making him overly-sensitive, and finally pulled off.

"Mm... Holy fuck, Jamie. You cum that much every time?” You ask, chuckling a little despite being wildly aroused.

He shook his head, sweaty and still whimpering.

"Awww," you cooed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You okay?"

"That... that felt..."

"What?"

"Best thing ever," he managed breathily.

You laughed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he uttered, a small smile on his face as he opened his eyes. "I... you're really good at that."

"Apparently too good," you snorted.

"Maybe," he nodded, then hummed softly in pleasure. "Sorry for cumming so fast."

"It was sweet."

"It's not sweet," he shook his head.

"I think so. You're so sensitive," you kissed his cheek.

He hummed again, then sighed softly. You watched him as he took a few steadying breaths before he moved his eyes back to you. He let his eyes linger on your form for several moments, then chewed his lip. He looked up at you, clearly debating something in his mind.

Then he smiled a little.

"Can I return the favor next time?"

[kykyonthemoon]

Comforting

When he comforts a reader who is so stressed and upset that she bursts into tears.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader (MC)

Included parts in order: Sylus, Caleb

This is the second part of the same prompt, for the two said characters, after my first one - "Soothing" for Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne.

── .✦ Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, comfort, long-distance relationship (Caleb's)

── .✦ Word count: 1k3

── .✦ Requested by Lightbook Aki

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

Sylus

"Let's go." Sylus tossed you the key to one of the two motorcycles parking in front of the flat. You were puzzled:

“To where?”

“Anywhere you want. Just ride.”

After he finished speaking, he started his motorcycle. Its scream seemed like both an invitation and an urging to you. 

You put on the helmet. Even though you constantly mentioned that you wished to ride about the city with him at night, Sylus's arrival at your door so late at night seemed odd. Particularly since you were in such a bad mood. And was it Luke and Kieran that you had just seen earlier nearby?

The motorbike that Sylus chose for you was a bit smaller than his, and matched your physique well. You did not object anymore. And so your night out began. 

A cool night wind blew. You kept on riding, not knowing where you were heading. Sylus rode safely away from you while keeping you in sight. He would sometimes approach you, as if to remind you that he had always been by your side on this journey.

Away from the noise of the city, you chose to stop on a hill on the outskirts. Sylus pulled up behind you when you got off the motorcycle and removed your helmet.

Nobody uttered a thing. Sylus waited close, watching you go around, your feet stepping on the dirt and rocks below in discomfort. After a while, when he realized he had no way of keeping you like that, Sylus approached you and gently seized your elbow, drawing you back to look at him.

"If the ride wasn't so enjoyable, we can go further."

"No... I just..." You halted because you were unsure if you should tell him or not. Was it appropriate to share such private emotions given that the two of you had just recently met?

"How do you know that I need a change of scenery? Was it Mephisto again?"

Sylus grinned. His index finger curled, and he swiped it over your nose. "Your thoughts are all reflected on your face like that. You haven't left your flat in days. Even without Mephisto, I suspect that something is wrong with you. Say it out. I am here to listen to you."

You took a brief glance at Sylus. The wind blew, ruffling the curls of hair on his forehead. You paused for a moment before telling him about how you ended up ending someone's life before they turned completely into a Wanderer on the last mission. That tormented you to no end.

When you finished the story, Sylus said: "You did what needed to be done. It wasn't your fault." He gently inclined his chin towards the gracefully illuminated city of Linkon on the horizon and continued, "This place is calm, thanks to you. You did very well."

That alone was enough to make you cry. You attempted to fight back your burning tears, but just as you were going to wipe them away and turn everywhere, Sylus grasped your hand tightly. His other hand caressed your cheek in a tender gesture, but did not wipe away your tears. He told you:

"Just let it all out."

And so you wept. You failed to recall the last time you ever sobbed like this. You had always believed that you were capable and powerful enough to battle Wanderers and defend others. But, in the end, you sought someone to tell you that you did the right thing by eliminating a soul's suffering, or that you did not have to bear it all on your own.

Sylus, resting on his motorcycle, softly raised your hand. His lips almost brushed it as he muttered, "Sometimes we have no option. Sometimes we have to deal with worse things than Wanderers. You just need to choose what is most important to you and do your best to protect it..."

Sylus halted and softly stroked your hand. His crimson eyes fixed on you, giving you an odd sense of reliability.

"Just like what I'm doing right now, protecting the most important person who is right in front of me."

Caleb

With a pleasant box of ice cream in hand, you sat on the porch of a closed business. It was dark, yet you refused to go home. You had been strolling the streets of Linkon all evening.

You did not have dinner yet. Both eyes were swollen. Your hair was a disaster. Everyone knew you had a rough day based on your look, and it was best for them to stay away from you. You searched for the phone in your coat pocket. A name displayed on the screen; it was Caleb's account.

But you sighed and put your phone away. These insignificant concerns were not worth his attention. You could manage it entirely on your own. You hoped that the next day, despite your current situation, you would return to your cheerful, active self. 

Opening the ice cream box, you began eating little spoonfuls. If Caleb was here, would it not be great? You would tell you about how you were bullied at work, unfairly accused, and how people turned their backs on you without knowing the whole story. But in the end, nothing was important anymore. Everything you could do to salvage the situation had been done. What you needed at that moment was a little consolation from someone, but that person was a long way from here.

You had learnt to handle challenges on your own when Caleb enrolled at the Academy in Skyhaven. You had always proven that you were mature and responsible enough not to disturb him. When you started this long-distance relationship, you knew he could not always come racing to you when you needed him, and there would be moments when you were entirely alone like this.

The ice cream box was about half-empty. The lightly inhabited street became even quieter. Perhaps you should go home. Still, tears went on falling. As the world faded away in weeping, you noticed that person's silhouette growing more and more apparent. Then a large hand rested on your head.

"You're all grown up, yet you're sobbing while eating ice cream here. Aren't you worried that others will laugh at you, pip-squeak?"

That voice belonged to Caleb. You rubbed your eyes. He instantly squatted in front of you, his mouth beaming and his hand aiding you in wiping away the tears.

"Caleb?"

He replied, "I'm here. Tell me. Who bullied my pipsqueak?"

You sniffled. Seeing him like that was a genuinely unexpected blessing. Of course, your spirit was also much lifted. You said:

"Who would dare to bully me? I just... wanted to eat ice cream. But how did you find me?"

"I received a call from Tara. She updated me on what occurred at work and then mentioned she could no longer contact you. She was concerned about something happening to you and asked me to reach out to you."

"Then… why did you come here instead of giving me a call?"

Caleb lightly squeezed your cheek. "If I called, you'd act as if nothing happened, right? You always go here for a box of ice cream when you're feeling low. That habit has not changed."

You had to confess that Caleb knew you too well. When you were depressed and didn't want to do anything else, he went out and bought you a box of ice cream from this store. He also said that as long as you had it, you would become happier. Since then, the ice cream here had served as your spiritual comfort whenever you started to feel down.

Caleb closed the ice cream box and held it in his free hand. He stood up and extended another hand towards you, saying: 

"Let's go home."

You felt instantly at ease. When Caleb helped you up, you grabbed his hand and leaped into his arms, hugging him by the neck hard. Perhaps as long as you had him, it did not matter anymore if the entire world turned against you.

Banner photos from Ghibli and screenshots by LittleBunnyCC

[samcarter34]

Since people seem to once again be having trouble remembering the order of operations, let me just remind everyone:

The ability Laudna possesses to feed Delilah is Hunger of the Shadow. In the fight with Bor’dor, Laudna used that BEFORE Orym’s head nod. Bor’dor attacked them and her response was to do the thing she knew would give power to Delilah. Matt even makes the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat.

The spell she used after the head nod? Whither and Bloom. The same spell she later attacked Orym with, which isn’t even a warlock spell.

And speaking of the head nod, you want to know what’s it’s prefaced with? ‘Laudna you can do whatever you want.’ And Marisha responds by saying that Laudna is ‘barely present’ because she’s having ptsd flashbacks to all of the times something horrible happened to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So she kills Bor’dor because it makes her feel in control of the situation.

And yeah, the 4SD where Liam says Orym thought Delilah might come back. Except y’all somehow took that and made it seem like he’s the one who shoved Laudna over the edge when what actually happened is that Laudna flung herself off it because betrayal is triggering to her.

And the sword. The sword which apparently wasn’t triggering enough that Imogen contemplating whether the Vanguard were good guys didn’t cause any reaction. Or for that matter, make her object to Ashton’s ‘this is permission statement.’ But she saw Orym wearing it, got uncomfortable and then all it took was one sentence from Delilah for her to decide to steal it. Delilah, who mutilated her, murdered her, has been possessing her for decades, and who basically held her soul hostage when BH wanted VM to resurrect Laudna. But what Delilah didn’t do? Tell Laudna to steal the sword.

I wasn’t around for campaign 1, but in campaign 2 I definitely noticed a trend that people who were all ‘I love women! Female characters rock!’ would, the second one of their alleged faves did something controversial (or just something they didn’t like) would find a way to shift the onus onto someone else so she could remain blameless. And that is definitely continuing this campaign, and if anything is getting worse (which, not to get into speculation, but I wonder if it’s because all of the female characters this go round are more traditionally feminine than last campaign.)

I think the reason Orym’s been getting raked across the coals so hard by certain parts of the fandom is actually because of this. Because Imogen’s repeatedly gone ‘what if the Vanguard have a point’ and Laudna agrees with everything she says, whereas Orym’s been pretty consistently ‘no, the murder cult that murdered my family are bad guys.’ And well, can’t go around admitting that our faves did something wrong.’

And so we have a situation where Laudna attacks Orym, but somehow that’s Orym’s fault because the possibility of Laudna doing something wrong ruins people’s lesbian cottegecore fantasy. But the thing is, that whole thing was all Laudna. She chose to listen to her first murderer when Delilah said ‘maybe it’s cursed’ and then she chose to blanket the room in magical darkness (sorcerer ability, not warlock) chose to cast an area of effect spell to destroy the thing Orym was using to sheath the sword (sorcerer spell, not warlock) and, upon hurting Orym, chose not to drop said darkness, which meant Orym couldn’t see who attacked him. And when she got caught, she tried to downplay what she did, tried to say that because she didn’t mean to hurt him it didn’t count, refused to apologize for actually hurting him, kept shifting her argument (and even low key got called out on it by Imogen when she asked Laudna why she’s want its power inside her if she thinks it’s so evil.)

There is an alternate universe where Laudna wakes Orym up and they have what probably would have been an intense discussion about the sword (and that might even have been what Marisha was aiming for before Delilah got involved) and THAT truly would have been the ‘both sides are equally right’ scenario, but that’s not what we got. And you can say Orym shouldn’t have taken the sword unilaterally (but somehow Laudna’s allowed to unilaterally steal and absorb it?) or that she’s being manipulated by Delilah, but the fact is that Laudna’s an adult and is responsible for her own decisions. Yes, Delilah is a powerful and malign presence that they all downplayed/ignored, but, to use Marisha’s addiction metaphor, making amends with those you’ve harmed is a part of recovery for a reason. Because ultimately, you are the one who did that. Yes, it does immensely suck for Laudna that she’s been handed the cards she has been, but it’s up to her to make the best play she can.

Wow this got long, but my overall point is that Laudna is a character with her own agency and makes her own decisions (well, Marisha makes them, but at this point y’all should know she’s not conflict averse and is willing to have her characters make controversial character choices). And really, take all that away, what’s left? How much onus can you take from a character before you might as well go look at a painting?

[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Ran fucked up

Summary: so you found out that Ran is sorta-kinda using you for information, money and material for Tenjiku and took revenge before the damage was too heavy. Come the time when Ran was supposed to display results, he has some explaining to do…

Tropes: Tenjiku! Arc

Content warnings: none really, this time around its just kinda cracky, implied intentional accidents i guess? Idk let me know if there’s anything

Vixen’s two cents: I saw that prompt and JUMPED on the opportunity cause i had a silly little idea (lets pretend im not writing this in my theory of evolution lecture right now). This is such a funny prompt to me, I hope you enjoy. Prompt taken from @the-cypress-grove - prompt 131 (thank youuuuu) Remember that my requests are open if you have any ideas!

Rindou has never seen his older brother this nervous- actually, this is the first time he’s seen him nervous, ever. The man in question was pacing (to the best of his efforts) restlessly, and it was driving Rin insane. „It‘s your fault, you know?“ Rindou quipped from where he was sitting. „And you’re not fucking helping. Izana is going to rip me apart, if i survive Kakucho that is.“ Ran mutters more to himself than to his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Rindou decides that he has to take control of the situation. „Come on Ran, its best to get it over with fast, perhaps they’ll pity you because of your… state right now.“ Rindou makes his way to the door, shrugging on a cardigan and taking the keys out of the little dish by the door. The look that Ran gives him almost ignites a little bit of pity in Rindou. Almost.

20 minutes later the two of them are standing in front of the place of meeting and Ran is sweating bullets. „Come on..“ Rindou drawled again. Offended, Ran throws him a look „You’re not the one who’s about to get mauled.“ Ran crows in slight pain, but Rindou spared no sympathy, „Your fault.“ Rindou was the first to enter the area donning the heavenly kings‘s presence. He silently greet his colleagues with a curt wave, but felt a little puzzled when he didn’t receive one in return. The confused looks on their faces were almost comedic before Rindou noticed the distinct lack of brother by his side.

Rindou heaved a sigh and half-turns to face the entrance again, gesturing to the door for the Heavenly Kings to see. „He‘s coming, don’t worry.“ He assured and trudged on towards his place.

„Sit down Haitani.“ a sharp voice pierced the air as Izana spoke. A shiver ran down Rindou‘s spine, and all of a sudden he understood his brother‘s fear: Izana was scary as such, and blatantly terrifying when disappointed. Quickly, Rindou took a seat beside Mochi. Silence reigned after that. Not a word was spoken, not a breath was taken whilst they waited for Ran to enter.

Finally the tension broke when Ran walked through the door, his head low and limping slightly. „Were ya roughed up or something?“ Shion was the first to speak. „Well..“ Ran sounded a bit defeated as his voice trailed off, remaining standing at a respectable distance. „You’re here. And late at that.“, Izana‘s voice freezes the air as he speaks, „I hope for your sake that your little project proves to be as useful as you made it sound.“ Ran tries very hard to look anywhere but the Kings, instead trying to make eye-contact with his brother, but Rindou only raises his hands slightly in surrender and shoots him a look that says you brought yourself into this mess, im not gonna help you on this one.

„Do tell Ran. How‘s your little girlfriend doing, hm? Are you treating her well? Is the good service paying off? She give you somethin‘ yet?“ Shion has the gall to poke at Ran, stacking questions on him in a singsong tone. Despite the almost joking nature of the questions, they hang heavy in the air.

„I don’t think she likes me all that much right now.“ Ran finally says.

„What makes you think that?“ Kakucho is the one to speak this time, noticing Izana's annoyance and grasping the reigns of the conversation. Whilst he sounds genuinely concerned, Kakucho‘s half-blind eye does nothing to make Ran feel more comfortable, as he visibly shrinks beneath his gaze.

„She founded out.“ Ran breaks the news in a whisper, and the air around them changes into something much more alive, and much more electric. „What.“ Kakucho‘s voice is loud in stark contrast.

„She hit me with her car.“ Ran shrinks even further into himself when the guys surrounding him laugh. „Clever Girl!“ Shion quips between heaves of laughter, bracing himself against an also-snickering-Mucho who adds „What if it was an accident?“. Ran only shakes his head, face and neck ablaze with red as he puffs himself up against the humiliation. „She looked me dead in the eye and reversed!“ Laughter bounces off the walls once again.

[sporadicthingcollection]

The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

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She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

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It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing. 

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again? 

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line. 

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony. 

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back. 

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck. 

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that. 

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces. 

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?” 

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

[lilg05]

I’m sorry pt2

pov: you and paige make up after a fight

warnings: swearing angst smut pet names

it’s now 4 in the morning and you’ve been tossing and turning all night you know paige is at aubrey’s but you need to see her. You put on a pair of plaid pajama pants and one of paige’s hoodies grabbing your keys off the counter you start to walk down the block towards aubrey’s house. Finally arriving you knock on the door a few times not thinking anyone will answer but someone does and that someone is paige.

Not noticing it’s you at first she answers with a confused “yes?”

“paigey” you sniffle

“Y/n what are you doing here?” she asked annoyed.

“paigey please come home”

“y/n/n”

“I’m sorry for being a bitch and being so pushy”

Paige stays silent just watching you as you rant to her. The silence was deafening making you more anxious.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t of came here i’m gonna go” you start to walk down the hall but as your about to turn the corner you here a distant

“wait” paige yells as she jogs towards you “y/n none of this is your fault i had a bad practice and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t of done that you are the best thing that god has ever given me and after i left today or i guess yesterday” she chuckles “i took sometime to reflect and I was the one being the bitch not you and for that i’m so sorry.”

Letting paige’s words set in you grab her hand squeezing it softly “let’s go home yeah?”

Paige walks you to her car and drives you guys home. As paige walks into the house she notices all the tissues by the coach and you open bottle of anxiety meds next to half empty glass of water.

“baby”

“yeah”

“why are your meds out”

“i had an anxiety attack” you whisper

“because of me?”

“paige”

“god i’m so sorry baby”

“it’s okay paigey let’s just go lay down yeah”

You and paige go into your shared room and fall asleep in each others arms.

________________________________________

The next morning you wake up and Paige is laying on your stomach. You take your fingers through her hair. Paige let’s put a satisfied groan.

“morning baby” she whispers

“morning my love”

“can i kiss you”

“ofcourse”

She leans up and kisses you softly her hand finding its place on your jaw. Slowly your soft kisses start to turning into making out paige now straddling your waist as you kiss her neck.

“i want this off” you say tugging at her shirt

She takes her shirt off effortlessly with one hand giving you more access to her chest starting to leave tiny little love bites causing paige to let out a soft moan.

“So beautiful p” you whisper into her ear and biting on it softly. This causes paige to buck her hips up against your pelvis causing you both to let out throaty groans. Your hands find a home on her hips urging her to continue on with her movements.

“fuck ma feels so good” she moans out speeding up the past of her hips. she yelps as you flip her over and tug off her boxers. You look into her eyes for consent.

“please ma”

you lean down and start to kiss in between her thighs teasing her as you kiss everywhere but her sweet cunt.

“fuck baby please” she whines “need you so bad”

finally you lick a long stride up her pussy her hands immediately flying to your hair tugging on it as she grinds on your face.

“yes just like that baby oh shit don’t stop”

you can tell that paige is about to cum and just as that rubberband is about to snap you stop.

“yo what the fuck?”

“i’m sorry but do you think you deserve to cum?” you ask

“excuse me?”

“i’m being serious do you think bad girls get to cum, cause i’m pretty sure you told me only good girls get to and you weren’t a good girl yesterday” i explain

paige let’s put a frustrated groan “what can i do to prove to you that i’m a good girl”

“beg” you say simply

“y/n i’m not going to beg for you”

you sigh and start to put your shirt back on “fine with me”

“wait wait wait” she sighs “please y/n”

“please what” you ask

“please fuck me with your fingers” she begs

“there you go” you say as you start to rub your fingers up and down her slit before starting to inch into her slowly

“oh shit” she gasps

“fuck so wet for me aren’t you paigey”

“please y/n”

I stop abruptly my fingers half way into her tight cunt “that’s not my name baby and you know it”

“please m-mommy”

“there we go good girl” i moan out “so tight around these fingers”

“fuck mommy please don’t stop”

“who’s pussy is this” you ask whilst curling your fingers into her g-spot making her arch her back and let out one of the most pornographic moans you’ve ever heard.

“yours shit please don’t stop mommy i’m gonna cum”

“yeah is my pretty baby gonna cum for me”

“yesss” she moans out.

you slip out of her and push your underwear down and slit yourself right on top of her rubbing your clit on hers earning moans from the both of you.

“shit feels so good doesn’t it baby?” you ask paige suddenly flips you over and starts to grind into your cunt now chasing after her orgasm that she’s been denied of twice now.

“fuck yes use me baby use me for your personal pleasure” you say while slapping her ass cause a quiet moan to slip out. Paige looks down at you with dark eyes and you know that you’re slowly starting to slip into submission for her.

“fuck paige please don’t stop i’m gonna cum”

“cum for me baby” she whispers into your ear

“oh fuck” you yell out as you cum paige cumming at the same time her hips starting to slow.

She gets up real quick and grabs a towel to clean you guys up.

“fuck if i knew that’s how we were gonna have sex when your mad at me i want you to always be mad at me.” she chuckles while kissing your forehead

“i love you baby” you say admiring her ocean eyes.

“i love you too” she whispers.

Hey part 2 sorry if this is bad 😭

[bubbleebubz]

I can't handle change pt 1.5

SORTA SMUTT!!! FEM MASTERBATION SLIGHTLY, READER IS A VIRGIN AND HAS NO EXPIERIENCE!!

I'm awoken to a cold sensation between my legs, a cold water bottle slide off the blanket and between my thighs, its condensation giving me chills, making my nipples harden from the cold abrupt feeling, and a thing of strawberry yogurt. I look around, finding Spencer still next to me, where he was when I fell asleep, but now he too was in a light slumber, his head resting on the window next to him. I smile and see the damp sticky note on the yogurt. "Eat this, we don't need your lack of energy to ruin the case", it read. I roll my eyes. I stare at the strawberry yogurt in front of me for a minute, pushing my lack of appetite and craving for coffee aside and gobble the yogurt down and chug the water. "Good girl" I feel a breath in my ear causing me to jump, I whip my head over to look at him, just to see him with a shit eating grin but still 'sleeping'. I groan in irritation after feeling another weird sensation between my legs, clenching them together to relive the unknown tension.

"Spencer I know your awake, it wasn't a ghost." I whisper, looking around to see if anyone was still awake. But nope, they were all out like a light.

"We will be landing in 15 minutes" Spencer whispers again but this time does not attempt to fake sleep. I slap him out of fear. "Stop doing that" I whisper yell at him. He puts his hands up "it's not MY fault your so jumpy" He exclaims with a grin.

We get off the jet, in the middle of no where Texas.

"Ok team, because this town is so old and small, there is only one motel, meaning we will need to share rooms. So, Emily and JJ, Morgan and Garcia, Me and Rossi, leaving Y/N and Reid. " Hotch says, looking down at the notes he has taken. "What, Hotch you can't make me bunk with her" Spencer says, annoyance clear in his voice. "Yes I can, Reid, this is the pairing its always been, but Y/N is new, so you cant be in your own room any longer." Hotch says, brows furrowed. Spencer scoffs in annoyance grabbing the room key, before walking off and past me. "I get the bed closest to the door" He mumbles before I follow behind him. "Okie dokie, but I get the shower first" I say, not all to happy on the situation either.

We get to the room that thankfully has 2 beds, I set my go-bag down on the chair before grabbing my pajama's and bathroom products and entering the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

"Locks broken, just my luck" I mumble before undressing and turning the shower on and turning the temperature up to the hottest setting due to the old pipes and the slow heating.

I wait impatiently for the water to heat up before getting in, letting the steaming water cascade down my body. A shudder leaves my body making me let out a sigh. My thoughts start racing to earlier. The strange sensation between my thighs returning. "Good girl" My brain plays in memory. I slip a hand between my thighs, exploring my parts. A moan leaving my lips at the new sensation. I rip my hand away in fear before finishing my shower in a rush and running out of the bathroom in my pajamas. "Hey, you ok? You were making some strange noises in there" Spencer asks, now in a pair of grey sweats and a black t shirt, he was laying on his bed reading a book. An un-noticeable bulge in his pants, but it was noticeable to her, everything was noticeable to her right now. Her eyes were glued as he stared at her, waiting an answer. He smirks, confused by how on edge she was.

"Y/N" He says, catching her attention. "yeah? hmm?" She asks, gazing back up to his eyes. "Are you okay? You were making noises in the shower" he says, still smirking.

"Oh yeah no, I mean ya, I'm good, just some new things, I don't know, s'all" She says, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

He just nods, letting her off the hook.

She lays down on her bed. "I'm going to bed now, goodnight Spencer" She says quickly.

She falls asleep, the wetness between her legs still evident.

[n3xxs]

ʚ𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛ɞ

Mu Qing x gender neutral! Reader.

Fluff, Angst

__________________________________________________

Hello! I've been away since school started and yeah the whole education here where I live is shitty. But yeah Heaven Officials Blessing is like my new obsession but this fic is gonna take events a little after Xie Lian meets Mu Qing in the anime (donghua) so it's pretty much in the start and there'll be little to no spoilers! Hope you enjoy.

__________________________________________________

One thing that was known for the crown prince of Xianle was that he tends to forget things that have hurt him in the past. Mu Qing was one of them. And he didn't think that could happen. Did it have to do something when he left him? He didn't know but something in his heart ached when he asked who he was but he remembed Feng Xin.

"Do you happen to know where Mu Qing is?" Another shaking of q persons head. And then another. And another. You haven't seen Mu Qing in 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔. You were starting to get worried for him and his health. You knew of the whole Xie Lian forgot who he was but you didn't know it affected him this much. Maybe because you didn't know why he was forgotten. Maybe you didn't know if he thought he was the one at fault like he always tends to think. That's why you wanted to find him. As his partner you wanted to be there for him and help him confront him and hold him in your arms. Hold him while he cried if he needed and let him talk about his problems as much as he wanted.

A few hours later you found one person who had seen him. He was in his chambers. Lucky for you you knew how to get inside via the key he gave you. When you opened the door you were met with darkness. Closed blinds and turned off lights. You turned on one and there you saw him. Mu Qing who was sitting on his bed with his head hung low. He really was beautiful even in this look. His hair disheveled and his clothes all wrinkly from moving too much. They closed the door and when they turned to look at him Mu Qing was already looking at them with clear eye bags under his light eyes. They came closer to him and sat down next to him putting a streak of hair behind his ear.

"I know what happened with Xie Lian but I don't think you should think too much of it. He just needed a little push that's it" You gave him a reassuring smile and he looked away from your face "It's not like that" his voice was raspy and could be heard clearly in the quiet room that they were in. She looked up at him and held his cheeks so he was now looking at them "Why are you getting so worked up over it? You don't have to its not like he hates you." He pushed your hands away "He forgot me!" He yelled and that left you speechless. You didn't expect that but you weren't gonna walk out. You countinued to stay quiet to see if he was gonna say anything else "I have hurted him before so now he forgot me but he remembered Feng Xin. Because he didn't hurt him while I did"

You felt bad for him. For what he thought. You knew Xie Lian didn't hate him. He actually wanted to be friends with him. Even if he did it was clear he was sorry. That he wanted to forgive himself but he just 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭. While you were deep in your thought you heard something. You turned your head and you were met with Mu Qings eyes. The same light eyes that's were always stern and weren't showing any kind of emotion were now at the verge of tears. Then you heard his question. "Are you gonna forget me too?" Your eyes widened. 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦? How could you forget him? He was the love of your life. You had set your eyes on him from the moment he ascended into the heavens and you were together for more that a century. You could never forget him.

"My love that's impossible" You were again met with teary light eyes and a questioning expression. You giggled "I have loved you from the moment you ascended and I won't stop until something managed to kill me. Which last time I checked is impossible so you are stuck with me" You said proudly and you heard a small giggle looking at the direction of the sound you saw a now smiling and clearly happier Mu Qing. You smiled at him "Thanks my love". You ended up cuddling the whole night with his head either rested on you lap as you played with his bangs or you were cuddled in his arms. Before he and you dozed off to you he kissed you softly on the lips " Good night my love " and with that you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

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Ok so I know I could write more but I'm a bit out of form so excuse me. Also schoolwork is gonna kill me soon and with these extra lesson it like a bonus weight to the already too heavy for me weights. (Idk)

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[appocalipse]

how about cracked compass + antique lock and key set with eddie munson? hear me out, but i'm thinking a historical AU and they're both servants at the same house/manor/castle (thinking kinda downton abbey energy with the servants drama). maybe she's carrying a tray or something and spills it everywhere (idk maybe it's food, maybe its something tiny like a jar of beads) and eddie swoops in and takes the fall so that she doesn't get sacked (because he's been working there a lot longer) makes up some story about how it was his fault and stuff. yup, that'd be the moment you fell stupidly hard for him... imagine all of the pinning? the staring at him when he's not looking? AH!

lea, you have such a beautiful mind 🥺♥ i tried my best but unfortunately, i've never watched downton abbey, so it's probably not exactly what you wanted :( hope you'll still enjoy it anyway, thanks for the lovely request 💗 | 4.3k words

visit amy's flea market ♥

The vase goes clattering to the floor and you watch with a desperate and frenzied heart as it hits the stone and...shatters instantly.

In a mix of dismay and panic, you reach to the floor where the delicate craftwork is broken into countless jagged and shattered pieces along the smooth white tile. Upon attempting to save the poor vase, you accidently slash your palm open on one of the sharp corners, and though the wound gushes blood, you don't seem to care. You think maybe if you gather all of the pieces and put them back together in their proper place, it may still be fixed, may still be saved, if you—

"Have you- Christ! Sweetheart, what...what happened?"

Startled, you look up to find Eddie running down the long and winding stairway, his chest rising and falling as if he'd just run a mile. He quickly makes his way over to you, crouching down on the floor, his dark eyes scanning your body for any signs of injury.

"Are you hurt? Oh God, there's blood," he breathes, and before you can reply, he's reaching out to take your wounded hand in his and inspect it closer.

The feel of his fingers against your skin sends a tingling sensation up your spine, but you shake the feeling away and focus on explaining yourself. "I...I was just passing by and...I tried to grab it, but it fell, and—I didn't mean for it to—"

"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," Eddie murmurs, and without hesitation, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a clean handkerchief. He wraps it around your bleeding hand and ties it tight, his movements gentle and careful. "I'll talk to Mr. Harrington about it, okay? It's not your fault."

"I—no. It was all me. Don't...you shouldn't get involved, you'll end up getting in trouble too."

Eddie smiles softly, his dark eyes sparkling as he looks up at you. "You're sweet, but...it's okay. I've been a servant here for a longer time. I know how to deal with this. You don't need to worry, okay?"

Unable to form words, you stare at Eddie and wonder why he's being so kind to you. It's true that the two of you have grown close over the past few years—close enough that you'd even consider him your friend—but still...this isn't his fault, and he shouldn't feel the need to take the blame for you.

"Eddie, I—"

He blushes and drops his gaze, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. "Go clean up, okay? I'll handle it."

And with that, Eddie carefully picks up the broken shards of the vase and disappears down the hall.

For the next days, you can't seem to stop thinking about what happened. The guilt eats away at your insides, twisting and turning until you feel physically sick. Eddie had taken the punishment for you, from what you've heard — a severe deduction from his pay and the threat of getting fired, along with extra cleaning duties.

You had tried to protest, to tell Mr. Harrington that it was truly an accident and that you could handle the consequences yourself, but Eddie wouldn't let you. He'd taken on everything, saying that the vase had slipped off the pedestal as he was cleaning it, and that he'd been the clumsy and careless one, leaving you in the clear.

You hated it.

It was the reason you couldn't seem to sleep, couldn't seem to eat or even breathe. Every waking moment was haunted by the memory of his soft and understanding voice, the warmth of his fingers against your own, the smell of his hair lingering in the air long after he'd gone, like a ghost haunting your thoughts and—

"God, sweetheart, you look terrible," Eddie says one day as you make your way through the castle corridors. "When was the last time you had a good night of sleep, huh?"

You blush, self-consciously touching your hair and wishing you looked even a fraction better than you did. "I-I'll pay you back, you know. I promise."

Eddie frowns, tilting his head in confusion. "Pay me back?"

"For...for taking the punishment for me. I'll do double my duties, and with the extra payment—"

"Woah, wait...you want to do extra work so you can...give it to me? What? That doesn't even make any sense. I didn't take the punishment so you'd repay me for it, you know."

"But it was my fault," you argue. "And it's only right that I—"

"How's your hand?"

"I don't...what?"

Blinking in confusion, you look down to where your hand is neatly wrapped in gauze. You had accidently re-opened the wound a few days back while running some errands for your lady, but it had mostly healed by now, though it would surely scar.

"Is it feeling better? That was a nasty cut," Eddie asks, moving closer so he can reach out and inspect your palm. He takes your hand carefully, as if you're made of glass, gingerly unwrapping the bandage and scanning the sensitive skin with his eyes. His touch sends an electric buzz under your skin, a longing unfurling in your belly that you force yourself to ignore.

"Oh, uhm, yes. I'm fine," you reply, trying to calm the sudden rush of heat that's flooded your cheeks. "But—Eddie, please. If you won't take the extra payment, then please, just let me do some of your chores or—"

"No. Why would I do that?"

"Why would you not?!"

Eddie laughs, shaking his head and giving you a crooked smile. "Sweetheart, I told you—I did what I did because I wanted to. Because I'm your friend and...I like seeing you happy. Seeing you upset over this whole thing is worse than a month's worth of cleaning duties, honestly."

You frown, biting the inside of your cheek and staring down at the polished tile beneath your feet. "Still, it doesn't feel right, you taking the blame and...punishment for me. I can't stand the thought of you getting in trouble because of something I did, especially when it's...it's not your fault, and you shouldn't have to—"

"I don't think of it as punishment."

"You don't?"

You look up, watching as Eddie's chocolate eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light of the candle-lit hallway. "I've been here longer than you. It would've been much worse if you'd taken the fall."

Eddie's fingers are gentle and warm against your own, his calloused hands brushing over your palm with a feather-light touch. You watch as he carefully wraps the gauze around the wound again, his brows furrowed in concentration as he secures the fabric tightly.

"I think you're being too kind to me," you murmur, feeling your heart race as he brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face. "I don't deserve it."

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head and stepping back with a sigh. "What if I have an ulterior motive?"

You frown, tilting your head in confusion. "Ulterior motive?"

"Mhm. What if I'm only doing it so you'll see how good I am and fall madly in love with me? Hmm?"

You blush, unable to form words as Eddie grins mischievously. "I—you—what?"

"Kidding, sweetheart, I'm kidding," Eddie says with a chuckle, reaching out to gently pat your head. "I'm just trying to make you smile, that's all."

"Well, you're very good at it."

"You think so?"

"Yes," you breathe, surprised by the sudden sincerity in your voice. "I'm glad we're friends, Eddie."

"Me too, sweetheart."

After that night, you couldn't seem to get those stupid words out of your head.

Eddie had been joking, of course. The two of you were close, but he didn't have feelings for you. Of course not. Not like that. How could he? How could someone as sweet and handsome and wonderful as him like you of all people, when there were so many other girls who were prettier, with more money and manners than you could ever hope to achieve?

You sigh and return your focus to where you're meant to be helping your lady get dressed, dutifully lacing the ties of her corset and giving them a good tug.

You know that he'd meant it in good fun. Know that he had most likely forgotten about it as soon as he'd said it—but for whatever reason, you can't seem to.

It's so annoying.

You love Eddie. He is your friend, of course. And while you both had never broached any territory close to a romantic relationship, you aren't stupid or blind. You aren't oblivious enough to the way his dark eyes seem to linger on you for a little too long. To how he holds the door open and gently touches the small of your back whenever the two of you are walking through the castle or descending the grand staircase.

God, you could go on and on and on about him.

"Miss, you seem rather distracted," your lady remarks, causing you to flush with embarrassment. "Did you tie my corset too tight, by chance?"

"Oh—I'm sorry, my lady," you reply, shaking yourself from your thoughts and adjusting the laces once more. "There—how is that?"

"Much better."

After helping her into her dress and pinning her hair into place, you follow her out of her chambers and down the corridor to the grand staircase, where a few other servants are already waiting for her. Tonight you and most of the other servants will finally have some time to yourselves — the family you serve is going to be attending a lavish dinner party with many other high-class members of society.

They're going to be gone for most of the night, and though usually you'd look forward to this sort of thing, you can't seem to muster the same excitement as usual.

You just aren't...feeling it tonight.

You sigh and make your way down the stairs, where the front doors have just opened and your lady and her husband are now heading out to their carriages. Once they're all gone, the rest of the servants will enjoy their rare free time as well, either staying in their quarters or heading into the town. Maybe that's what you should do, you think; go into town and distract yourself from your confusing thoughts about a certain valet, now that you have the luxury of time on your hands and no expectations of anyone.

"Miss, you seem a little flushed. Are you feeling well?" Eddie asks mischievously, stepping up behind you and reaching out to brush his fingers against the back of your neck. "You don't have a fever, do you?"

You jump, startled by the sudden touch and turning to look up at Eddie with a huff. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me like that. You scared me half to death."

"Oh, did I?" Eddie asks, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards into a crooked grin. "Sorry about that."

You roll your eyes and try to suppress the sudden butterflies in your stomach. God, how could you have let yourself fall for someone like him, anyway? He'll be the death of you.

"Is there something on my face?"

"Oh, er...no," you murmur, suddenly feeling very flustered. "I was just lost in thought. I suppose you're also staying?"

"Staying?"

"Here."

Eddie makes a confused face, tilting his head in an adorable expression of perplexity. "Where would I go?"

You frown. It seems unlike Eddie to not find some sort of adventure in the rare and little free time you're given; he's always the first one eager to ride out to town and spend a free evening gambling and drinking with his friends, but this time, he doesn't seem eager to go anywhere at all.

"You...don't want to head into town with the others?" you ask, unsure of whether or not you're prying too much. "I heard the pubs are having a sale on ale and—"

Eddie sighs, running a hand through his curly dark locks and shrugging his shoulders. "Eh. I'm not in the mood, I guess."

You tilt your head, intrigued by his sudden change in behavior. Usually, he's the life of the party, the one who brings a room together with his energy and humor, but now, he seems almost...dejected.

"Eddie, is everything alright? Did something—"

"Fine," he replies a little too quickly, his voice sounding strained. He gives you a forced smile and reaches out to gently touch your shoulder. "Just tired, that's all."

You frown, unconvinced. "If there's something bothering you, you can always—"

"Sweetheart, don't worry, okay?" Eddie murmurs, his dark eyes sparkling in the dim light of the entrance hall. He leans closer, his fingers gently grazing over your cheek, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat. "Promise."

Before you can say anything else, he's turning on his heel and heading towards the back staircase, his valet uniform swishing behind him as he goes.

You blink, your fingers lightly touching where his hand had been moments before. The sudden brush of his skin had sent electric shocks throughout your body, a heat building up inside your belly that you can't seem to get rid of.

"Excuse me," one of the maids whispers as she walks by, startling you from your trance. "I need to clear this hallway."

"Oh, um...sorry," you reply, flustered. "I'll get out of the way."

By the time you reach the servants quarters, most of the staff that had received permission to go out has already left. Most of the doors are closed, and the sound of chatter and footsteps and laughter fades out into the distance as you head towards your bedroom and gently shut the door behind you.

Your share your room with three other girls, but none of them are anywhere to be seen now.

Thank God.

You sigh, the dull roar of your thoughts finally starting to quiet down as you sit at your small desk and lean your head against the back of the chair.

You can't stop thinking about what had just happened.

Can't stop thinking about the sudden flirtatious behavior and the way Eddie had brushed his fingers against your cheek with a gentleness that made your knees buckle.

With a long, exhausted sigh, you rise to your feet and slowly start to unpin your hair from its tight bun. You replace your uniform with a simple cotton dress, comfortable enough for a night of light reading and...

A knock at your door jolts you from your thoughts.

"Hey, uh...sweetheart?"

You pause, blinking in confusion and taking a few tentative steps towards the door. "Eddie?"

It can't be.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Is something wrong?"

Eddie chuckles softly on the other side of the door, his voice sounding muffled by the heavy oak. "No, nothing's wrong. I, um...I found a jar of wine in the pantry that Mr. Harrington doesn't know about. Thought you might wanna join me?"

You bite your lip, a wave of nerves rushing through your body as you slowly reach out for the door handle. He shouldn't be here and you definitely shouldn't open the door.

But some things are easier said than done.

You carefully turn the knob and pull it back.

He looks downright sinful, his valet uniform unbuttoned at the collar, a few loose strands of hair falling over his forehead, dark eyes sparkling mischievously in the dim light of the hallway.

He holds the jar in his hand, the liquid sloshing around inside and giving off a slight spicy aroma that you can almost already taste on your tongue.

Male servants like Eddie are strictly forbidden from coming anywhere near the women's quarters, and if someone were to find you, it would be a hell of a lot of trouble for both of you.

"I—are you insane?" you whisper, unsure of whether to shut the door in his face or let him in. "If the housekeeper—"

"Come on, sweetheart, live a little. It'll be fun," Eddie murmurs, stepping closer and leaning forward so his face is level with yours. "Trust me."

You stare at him for a few more tense moments, your heart racing and your palms sweaty against the cool brass handle of the door.

Finally, you swallow thickly and step back, making room for Eddie to come inside.

As soon as he crosses the threshold, you shut the door quickly and lean back against it, waiting for the sound of footsteps or yelling or anything that would indicate the presence of another servant or staff member.

"Chill, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs with a smirk, carefully opening the window a crack and lighting a match to ignite a few candles. "Nobody's gonna come looking for us. Everyone's gone."

"Mrs. Byers is not, no," you argue, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff. Most of the time, you like the housekeeper; she is the closest thing to a motherly figure in your life right now. But she's also incredibly strict when it comes to rules. "She's probably somewhere lurking, as always."

Eddie chuckles softly, winking playfully in your direction. "Well, then we'll have to keep it down."

"Oh, for God's sake. Just open it already."

Carefully, Eddie pries the cork off the jar of wine and takes a swig, a grin playing on his lips. He takes a few steps towards you, holding the bottle out for you to take.

"Want some?"

"It's bad for your liver."

"Everything in life is bad for your liver," Eddie replies, tilting his head to the side. "C'mon, sweetheart. It's good."

You glance down at the bottle, taking in the sweet scent of dark cherries and spices, the bright purple liquid swirling around inside like a whirlpool.

You reach out, your fingers brushing against Eddie's as you take the jar and lift it to your lips, taking a sip.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's sweet and tart and spicy and rich, all at the same time, with an intense burst of flavor on your tongue that you never thought possible.

Feeling your skin warm, you hand the jar back to Eddie and watch as he drinks deeply, his eyes sparkling in the soft glow of the candlelight.

"Are you sure no one will miss this?" you ask, glancing down at the bottle and wondering how expensive it might've been. "What if Mr. Harrington finds out?"

"He won't. Not if we don't make too much of a fuss," Eddie replies, his voice growing softer. "I bet nobody's even thought to look for it. And besides, he wouldn't know it was us anyway."

You cross your arms, raising a challenging brow as you sit on the edge of your bed. "How can you be so sure?"

"There's plenty of wine in the cellar," Eddie counters with a grin, putting his hands up as if he's surrendering. "I didn't steal all his wine. I merely took one that was already there."

"Don't take anymore."

"No promises."

"Eddie."

"Sweetheart."

The nickname sends a rush of heat to your cheeks and you shake your head, fighting a smile as you smooth the fabric of your dress.

He takes a swig of the wine, never taking his eyes off you, and leans back against the wall, the familiar scent of him drifting towards you like a wave of summer air.

"It's good, isn't it?" Eddie asks, cocking his head to the side. "And you're, ah...you're really pretty tonight."

You roll your eyes and try not to look too affected, pushing the stupid fluttery feelings back down into your stomach and stomping them out like tiny little sparks. "Are you already drunk?" you ask, chuckling.

"Pfft, no."

"Then why are you suddenly talking nonsense?"

"It's not nonsense," Eddie protests, his ears turning red. He shakes his head and moves closer, setting the wine jar down on the desk and rubbing the back of his neck. "I think you're...really great, sweetheart. Really amazing. In every single way."

"Uh-huh, sure."

You look away, pretending to be interested in something else so that Eddie doesn't have a chance to read the emotions on your face and pick up on all of the pent-up love for him you've stored inside for the last months — love that is, you've decided, better off locked up tightly in the chest in the corner and never spoken aloud.

He looks different in the soft and sultry orange glow of the low-burning candle, though — his curls illuminated by the light, his dark eyes sparkling, his soft lips curved into a gentle smile.

"Hey."

Eddie sits down beside you, and the heat of his body radiates outward and dances across your skin like the waves of a flickering flame.

He smells clean and warm and fragrant, like soap and fresh laundry.

You lean closer, looking up at him through your lashes and watching as he nervously wrings his hands together.

"You know," Eddie murmurs, smiling gently. "You make my life a lot more interesting than it used to be."

"Are you suggesting I cause you a lot of trouble, then?"

"Not at all," he replies, laughing softly and looking back up at you, his expression softening. "More like...just makes me wanna keep coming back to you, over and over. Even when I don't have to. And especially when I need someone to talk to."

You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you let his words sink in. "Is that why you're here right now? To talk?"

He blinks, his tongue swiping out over his lower lip as his gaze drops to your mouth. "Are you drunk, by any chance, sweetheart? Be honest."

"Why would you—"

"Because I'm about to kiss you, and I want you to be sober."

His words come out breathless, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as your lips part in surprise.

"I am...not drunk," you reply, holding his gaze and leaning closer, your hands tingling from his sudden proximity. "I'm entirely in my right mind. Definitely."

He grins crookedly. "Really?"

"Really."

"So, if I did..."

Eddie's voice trails off as he inches forward, his eyes lidding slightly as he moves closer and closer and...

He stops, his nose inches from yours, and the tips of his long fingers gently brush over your chin, lifting your face up to meet his. "This okay?"

"Yes," you manage, your voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

"Good."

His lips are soft when they finally brush against yours, gentle and warm and inviting, and you inhale sharply, feeling yourself go weak in the knees.

He tastes like spice and cherry, and you reach out to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, your head spinning as he kisses you back with equal fervor, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck to keep you steady.

You gasp softly, his teeth grazing over your lip and sending a shock of electricity through your core, and you reach out, your fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket as you hold onto him for dear life.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes, panting softly as he finally pulls away. "God, that was good."

"It was," you whisper, looking up at him and biting your lip. "Worth the wait."

"Wait, what?" Eddie asks, raising a brow.

You blink, realizing you'd said that last part out loud and instantly wanting to crawl under the bed and die. "Uhm...nothing."

"Oh, please," he murmurs, smirking. "Tell me more. Did you have to wait a long time for this to happen, sweetheart? Hmm?"

"Absolutely not," you reply a little too quickly. "Forget I said anything."

"Nope, not letting you get away with that. What are you trying to hide, huh? How long have you been harboring secret feelings for me?"

"You're ridiculous."

"Am I?"

You lean back, your body screaming in protest as Eddie gently pushes you back onto the pillows and straddles your hips. He's heavier than you realized, and his fingers are calloused from years of work, but the mere thought of him touching you sends goosebumps up and down your arms and legs.

"Do you like me?" he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck and sending sparks down your spine. "Hmm?"

"Eddie, we—"

"Please, just...just tell me. At least let me hear you say it."

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours as he waits for you to answer. Your heart is racing, blood rushing through your ears and making you lightheaded and dizzy.

"I...no," you whisper, grinning when he raises a brow and scoffs. "Fine. Maybe. Only a little bit."

"Liar."

"Okay. More than a little bit. Maybe...maybe, I even love you, alright? Jesus. There, I said it."

Eddie's jaw drops, his pupils blown wide. "What, seriously?"

"Oh, alright, get off of me. I'm done with you."

"Hey, no, wait, wait, wait, I'm sorry," he breathes, grabbing your wrists and pinning your arms above your head. "Don't—don't go anywhere."

"Eddie."

"Shh."

He chuckles, his warm breath fanning over your lips and making you weak in the knees. "What?" you rasp, struggling against his grip, stubborn in your attempts to stay mad.

"You love me, hm?" he muses, smiling brightly and making your heart skip a beat.

"I take it back."

"You're not allowed to," he breathes, his mouth barely an inch away from yours. "That's not how it works, sweetheart. Sorry."

"You're very annoying."

"And you're very pretty when you're frustrated," he murmurs, brushing his lips over yours. "I...love you too, in case you didn't know."

"You what?"

"Love you," he repeats, his cheeks flushing pink. "Madly. Desperately. Quite embarrassingly, in fact, sweetheart."

You blink, your breath catching in your throat. "Really?

"Really," Eddie breathes, kissing you softly once more. "Shoulda kissed you the second I met you. Wish I had."

"Well," you murmur. "I suppose you'll just have to make up for lost time, won't you?"

[voltronisanobsession]

Can I request Annabeth Chase x Son of Phobos or Deimos reader head canons? Thanks, in advance!

Annabeth with a Child of Phobos

Ooooo new character unlocked😍😍 This is a really interesting duo and I LOVE IT

I hope you like this, I feel like I’ve been lowkey out of my game with writing😭 I have a lot of asks in my inbox rn, but I’m slowly getting through them guys, I’m getting there🙏🙏

Ok so i did a bit of reading on these gods and the POTENTIAL I SAW FOR THIS ASK WAS SO AAAAHH

I feel like this relationship would be an enemies to lovers kinda thing

OK SO

Imagine reader is the kid of Phobos cuz why not

Phobos is the god of fear, panic, all that good stuff, so obviously those traits would be passed down to his children

And a special power of Phobos is allowing those he makes eye contact with see their deepest fears,, lets say that that’s an ability that children of Phobos can do to an extent!!

So the first time you and Annabeth meet, it is NOT on good terms💀

Sent out by your father, Phobos, to mess up some quest Percy was sent on, an order from Ares himself, there's a face-off between you and Annabeth

Like, Annabeth is so ready to take you down the second you show up to disrupt their quest but she just can't seem to shake off the shivers and chills going down her body once you appear

And you already know how Percy cares for his friends so targeting someone whose close to him (Annabeth) was an open option

Cold sweat rolls down Annabeth's face at point, her heart slowly speeding up as you look toward her

The second you make eye contact with her BOOM

She immediately goes into panic mode when she feels something crawling down her hands

She can only start screaming in absolute FEAR when she sees hundreds of spiders crawling on her body, dropping her dagger to the ground and trying to swat them off her to no avail

And the worst part is that literally no one can help her because they can't even SEE what she's seeing and feeling, except you!

Yeah your meeting is the worst memory Annabeth has of you💀

Fast forwarding to after your meeting, you get caught in some trouble with a dangerous monster and dun duunn!!

Annabeth saves you because she knows its the right thing to do

And you're so touched by her action despite the literal hell you put her through after showing her worst fears that you just

Join their quest and decide to become her friend (or at least try to)

Annabeth would be super awkward and nervous around a child Phobos solely because of her first encounter with one

Whenever you try to talk to her, she just awkwardly looks at you

You see her somewhere at camp and brightly wave to her, she's doing a quick wave and speedwalking away

But it's low-key not her fault😭😭 Whenever she's around you she can't stop the way her hands get clammy and her heartbeat speeds up

It's something you can't control but you have this aura that ignites fear in anyone near you

I don't think a friendship could come from this unless you were to apologize for what happened

It could be the worst apology known to existence because you don't know how to properly express your feelings, but Annabeth appreciates the thought behind it!

After that, everything is a little smooth sailing

She would slowly get used to your presence, getting used to your aura and knowing that you most likely won't use your power to cause her harm (again)

It would take some time for you two to become close enough for her to see you in a romantic light, but you still manage to break down her walls

Your constant figure in her life makes you a part of her routine

She’d give you a nickname, something dumb like panic pants

(when Percy first heard Annabeth call you that, he made it his mission to just refer to you as ‘PP’ to ‘shorten it’💀)

Annabeth would see you as friend while on the other hand, you be quick to catch feelings for the grey eyed girl because of her witty personality

I think the small things would really matter to her if you’re wanting to up your game with her

You give her a small flower while walking to lunch because it reminded you of her

She appreciates the way you give her your undivided it attention whenever she takes about architecture

Sometimes Annabeth fees like she’s talking to much about it but seeing you listen to her with interested eyes allows her to keep talking about what she loves

She feels seen and heard when she’s around you😭

Oh my gosh if you weave her something, no matter how bad the pattern is, she’s gonna treasure it FOREVER

Having something made just for her will make her all giddy inside UGH

Annabeth is so used to being grouped with her siblings so having someone pay special attention to her makes her feel important and well, special!

This is when the game shifts, she’ll begin giving you small gifts too!!

Whether it be a small weaving of her own or a clay bowl she made herself, Annabeth wants to show that she truly appreciates as a person!!

She’s all blushy while gently giving it to you and you’re face is just RED cuz oMGGG

Let’s talk about when the relationship becomes official >:)

It could be anytime but the one I see happening is if you save her after she’s attacked while outside of camp

Inside running to get away from the threat, you stay behind and protect her while she recovers herself

Like you get BRUTALLY beat, limping towards her when she just runs to you and pulls you in a crashing cuz!!! You literally!! Risked your life to save her!!😭

“Annabeth are you alri- hmph!”

“What we’re you thinking ?! Thank the gods you’re ok! I thought- ugh don’t scare me like that again!”

Everything is HISTORY

Like you guys just naturally click after getting together

Omg wait

Ok so since Annabeth like REALLY trusts reader at this point she would let them like see what her greatest fear is, you know to solidify that trust bond😁

And what if!! What if!!!!!!!

Instead of seeing the spiders, this time you only sees glimpse of what her now current fear is, which is losing you😭😭😭

Hugging session is a must after seeing that cuz damn😭

And imagine like if your abilities were really strong you’d be able to show your own fear to someone else

And Annabeth sees your fear is the DAME except your afraid of losing her?????

UM??

That moment would leave you guys so vulnerable like??

Moving on! During battles, you both are back to back fighting together. Annabeth had full confidence in reader, like she knows she’s in good hands

No one goes near her because all the enemies are too busy panicking with what you’re doing. With a lot of concentration, you’re able to instill fear to all the monster, with the exception of your girlfriend teehee

The dating life with Annabeth wouldn’t be too different tbh

You guys still bucket with each other, throwing lighthearted, sarcastic comments but theres a more sweeter vibe

I think Annabeth still gets a little blushy with you cuz cmon! She still has a MAJOR crush on you even if you’re dating🤭

You provide her with so much confidence and happiness. You help her face her fears, calm her down when she begins panicking when something goes wrong

Despite being a child of Phobos and having such a scary ability to make people see their greatest fears, Annabeth knows that even the ‘scariest’ people have kind and gentle side

Ugh this feels like such a trope but I don’t even care cuz ITS CUTE

When Annabeth holds your hand, she no longer feels the chilling sense of fear crawling through her body, instead, now she only feels a sense of calmness and protection😭💔💔💔

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Rust (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Vash the Stampede x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, canon-typical violence and death, kidnapping

There’s an old earth saying about the best way to boil a frog.

If the water’s already boiling and you drop the frog right in, it hops right out. The key, or so the story says, is to start with tepid water, then turn the heat up slowly, little by little. The poor frog, relaxed by the warming water, won’t make a fuss when the temperature starts to rise, won’t leap from the water.

Blind to the danger, that frog will sit calm and placid, letting itself steadily be boiled alive. 

Has the water always been this warm?

You stare, empty eyed at the wreckage of the homestead before you. The broken bodies Wolfwood’s diligently dragging off god knows where to perform whatever rites he thinks are necessary. Smoke and the scent of gunpowder and blood linger in the air you breathe, you can taste it on your tongue.

But it’s white noise in the background. You keep thinking of the man you saw.

Well, maybe ‘man’ isn’t the right word. Half his face was cybernetic, his body twisted and warped into a weapon that mercilessly ripped through that family. You don’t doubt his humanity because of his body, you doubt it because there was nothing in his eyes. Not anger or rage, not glee or regret. 

He was nothing but a tool, mindless to all but his master’s whims.

“I’m sorry.”

The words wash over you, but the blond’s touch is warm, solid as he pulls you into his chest, rests his cheek against the crown of your head and holds you, his own cybernetic arm rubbing soothingly at your back.

Why he’s apologising, you’re not entirely sure. For not getting there in time to stop it? Because it happened at all?

This isn’t his fault. 

Either way, you let your arms curl loosely around his waist and bury yourself in him, eyes welling up with tears you’re sick of shedding. “I have to get her back, Vash,” you mumble.

For weeks now, you’ve imagined it. All the terrible fates that might’ve met your sister at the hands of Knives Millions. Dead. Locked in some dungeon somewhere, rotting away. Tortured. Ripped apart. Forced into servitude, humiliated, broken, beaten–

Your stomach clenches, threatening to upheave.

Experimented on. 

“I need her back.”

The broad palm stroking along your spine falters, and Vash pulls back enough to meet your watery gaze. Behind his glasses, pools of impossible blue shine with concern, a flicker of something else – guilt, maybe? – bleeding through, even as he paints a small, thin smile across his face, “Hey, you promised me you weren’t gonna think like that anymore. Your sister… he won’t hurt her.”

“Stop saying that!”

Snapping at him won’t solve anything, you can’t help it though. Whatever this spiral is that you’re caught in, it has its claws in you, dragging you down into a pit of hysteria. Your breath comes quick, choppy, and all of a sudden you can’t bear his hands on you – you shove at him, stumbling back with a shuddering gasp.

“He hates us, Vash! He hates humans. I watched him kill our parents, he cut them to pieces, like they were nothing, less than dirt, and for what? Why?! And that– that thing!” you gesture wildly in the direction the gunman disappeared off to. “Do you think whoever he was, he signed up for that? Is that the best I can hope for? That if my sister hasn’t already been eviscerated, maybe he’ll lay her down on a table, slice away at her until nothing’s left but metal and blind obedience to a madman, until she’s just another tool for him to–”

You don’t get to finish the thought, Vash quick to close the distance between you, seizing your violently trembling hands in his, holding them up between you. “He won’t,” he vows. “I need you to believe me, Nai isn’t hurting her. He wouldn’t.”

But you’re too far gone for soft platitudes. You shake your head, only half aware that you’re moving at all, “You don’t know that, you can’t–” your voice cracks, another sob threatening to burst. 

You hate that you’re doing this here, now; crying for your stolen sister on the site of another bloody, brutal massacre. The only mercy in this is that Wolfwood’s still off dealing with the bodies. Vash bearing witness is bad enough, you don’t think you can handle anyone else seeing you this brittle.

With a wounded noise, he lets one of your hands slip from his to brush at your tears with a gentleness that steals your breath. “Don’t cry, angel. I promise you, she’s not being hurt. Nai won’t let anything happen to her.”

A promise.

Vash promised weeks ago, earnesty dripping from every word, that he’d help you find and free your sister. At the time, you could’ve kissed him, bowed at his feet, given him anything in your power to give. No else was offering. No one else cared about some stupid girl from a nowhere town, kidnapped by a vicious egomaniac bent on eradicating humanity. 

(You swore to yourself, too, that you wouldn’t hold it against him that he called that monster brother).

You trusted him then, the weight of that promise settling into your soul like a brand. Vash would help bring her home, he promised.

Vash, cradling your tear-stained cheek, peers down at you with that same striking intensity, like he’s willing you to believe they’re not throw-away words to comfort you, he means them. Your sister hasn’t been harmed. She won’t be.

Which makes you wonder, a cold thread of unease slithering down your spine, how he can promise something like that. 

“… Vash, how could you possibly know that for sure?” you whisper, the sound carrying in the too quiet stillness of the homestead.

The hand you squeeze isn’t made of flesh, blood and bone – you barely notice, searching Vash’s face in turn, praying to yourself that just this once, his words are empty.

The soft, pink flush that paints his cheeks quickly turns those hopes to ash and dust.

And perhaps he senses that too, because the moment you try to step back, put a little distance between you so you can breathe, that grip of his becomes iron. 

Vash wets his lips and swallows, a shallow bobbing of his throat, “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not. I’d never–” he breaks off with a strangled sounding huff, his fingers flexing around your wrist. He’s always been bright, excitable. Sunshine on a summer’s day.

Now he just looks manic. Eyes too bright, too wide. A jitteriness that sets you on edge. 

“The plan was to get her out, like I promised. It’d be quicker if it was just me, I didn’t want– I couldn’t risk anything happening to you if I brought you with me. It’d kill me. Kill me. But Nai, he– she’s important to him, I think. He needs her.” Vash frowns, “I swear I was gonna bring her back to you like I promised, that’s the only reason I went, and I would’ve, you know I would’ve if I thought for a moment she was in any danger, but…”

“You saw her?”

With those sad, puppy-dog eyes fixed on you, he nods. 

Something painful wrenches in your chest at the admission, and with a sharp tug to your wrist, Vash is there, his forehead pressed against yours, murmuring near frantic reassurances – excuses – as though there won’t be bruises left in his wake.

He saw her.

Vash was there, he saw her and he left her. 

Bitterness cleaves at you. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Agony.

You’re a fool. 

“Let go of me.” Your voice is robotic, a cold contrast to the roaring mess of emotions in your head.

If Vash hears you, he gives no indication. There’s not enough air in the room, every inch of it tainted by Vash clutching you closer, holding you tighter. Like he senses that if he loosens his grip, even for a second, you’ll disappear altogether. 

“Let go of me… Vash, let me go! LET ME GO!”

You’re shrieking, pushing and shoving at him, beating your fists against his chest, and Vash looks halfway to distraught as, for a split second, his eyes flicker to focus on something just behind you. “I’m sorry, angel. I’ll make it up to you.”

The sudden, blinding burst of pain at the back of your skull comes out of nowhere. Drops you cold to the ground, and as the darkness swallows you up whole, you hear him speak again, that broken, mournful tone that tears at your heartstrings. 

“I’m sorry.”

Close your eyes, little frog. Drift off. The water’s nice and toasty.

[river13245]

Adults For A Weekend

Navigation / Friends Masterlist

Joey x Male Reader

Summary: Monica and Chandler as Joey and you to babysit Erica for the weekend. So who are you to say no. This is just a complication of moments of Uncle Joey and Erica

Monica and Chandler were both planning on going on a weekend getaway. Chandler was sitting on the couch while Monica was in the kitchen cleaning up a bit.

The both of them had texted you andJoey. Joey had seen the text first since he somehow had a radar that went off every time his best friend texted. He walks into your shared bedroom where you were reading your book and leans against the wall. "Hey Chandler just texted the both of us. Asking if we could go over there"

At the sound of his voice you had placed the book on your chest and listened. "Let me get my shoes on and we can go over there. Did they say why they needed us" you ask as you get up to place your book back on your desk and then to go get your shoes on. "no they didn't. Just said they would like us to come"

As the both of you get your shoes on and jackets its a comfortable silence. When you grab your keys Joey comes to the door and opens it for you. "after you" he says with a big smile as you laugh and place a kiss to his cheek. "come on Joey"

You and him walk to your car and get into it and begin to drive to Monica and Chandler's home. They had moved a few years ago and bought that house an hour away from the apartment you all had lived in at one point in time.

After a while though you had seen how being away from chandler affected Joey. So you had brought up maybe getting a nice cozy house that is around them so they could see each other more often. Joey loved that idea so that's why you had now been living in this house together for a few months now and the two of you couldn't be happier.

As you drive to their house you listen to Joey sing along to music. He loved musicals so it was the soundtrack to Phantom of The Opera. Which you introduced him to a few months ago and he enjoyed it. The both of you loved admiring the whole "look" about it. He loved the outfits they wore, even said he wanted The phantom's mask.

The drive is only about 20 minutes so when you finish the soundtrack you guys pull up into their driveway. You pull in behind chandlers car and park, turning off your car. Joey is the first to get out while you grab your phone and put it in your back pocket before getting out.

Joey grabs a hold of your hand as the both of you walk up to the door and he knocks lightly before opening the door. Your hands disconnect from each other before Monica walks into the room and rushes over to you and pull you close. "Hi I missed you both so much"

You laugh and pull away from each other. "we were here a few weeks ago Mon" she just rolls her eyes and smiles as she greets Joey too. Chandler comes and says hi and Joey of course pulls him into a hug before you guys walk into the living room and sit.

Monica sits down on the couch beside you and she is the first to talk about why you are here. "okay so we have asked you to come over because. Well. Chandler and I are planning a small get away for just the two of us. And was wondering if the both of you would watch Erica for us this weekend."

At her words you look at her and then look over at Joey for a minute. "you are trusting Joey with a 9 year old kid?" Chandler laughs and shrugs "well you will be with him so it cant go to bad"

Joey looks at all of you and acts offended "come on guys. I am able to care for a child for at least three days." The three of you both look at him with the same questionable expression and Joey rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at you. "You out of all people should be on my side!"

This causes you to laugh and shrug "sorry darling but we don't want a repeat of what happened last time you watched a child with Chandler"

Joey and Chandler both look at each other and say "that wasn't our fault"

Monica and you both smirk "sure it wasn't"

The four of you talk quietly because Erica was asleep in her bed and when it was time for everyone to get some sleep you all said goodnight.

Monica and Chandler had an extra room that you and Joey always shared when you were over. So the two of you get changed in the bathroom and head to the bed. Once you get under the deep purple covers Joey plops down next to you and sprawls out causing you to his his chest lightly. "I swear if you don't get off me i will push you off this bed" He just laughs and rolls over and in return you roll over to. He was little spoon tonight. "i love you Joey"

"i love you too" ---------

The next morning you are woken up by a heavy weight on top of you poking your face. "Joey I swear if you don't stop touching me" There is only a giggle in response which causes you to open your eyes to see Erica's face.

Your attitude changes instantly as you place your hands on her sides and tickle her which causes her to squeal and flop down onto Joey's arm causing him to groan and wake up. "what the he-"

Knowing exactly what word he was going to say you throw a pillow at him. Which causes more laughter from the young girl. "okay Erica. How about we go make everyone some breakfast. How does that sound"

She gets up from the bed "it sounds good. Mom and Dad aren't up yet" As you slip out of bed your feet hits the cold floor and a shiver runs up your body. You easily got cold and Monica always had their temp at like 68 degrees at all times and it was the middle of fall. "fuck its cold in here" you say quietly.

Thinking that Joey is asleep you place a kiss to his cheek before going to the bathroom and fully getting ready for the morning as quickly as possible. And when you walk back into the room you see him lying on his back with his eyes closed. He must have heard you tho because he is pointing to his hoodie that's dropped over the chair in the room

A smile forms on your face, this was a new hoodie of his that you havent worn yet. "Awe you do love me" you say as you put the hoodie on. "yes I do."

The morning is filled with quiet laughter and whispered conversations between you and Erica. She sat on the counter and helped you. She was 8 years old and had loved to cook so you always let her help as long as she washed her hands because children can be disgusting.

Everyone ate and talked around the table and soon enough the time came where you had to take Erica to your home. Erica had gotten dressed in blue jeans and a hoodie. The hoodie was a little long on her so the sleeves covered her hands a little bit. She had said goodbye to her parents and was now getting her shoes on.

You had grabbed her Jacket since it was getting very cold outside so layers were a good idea. "okay you ready to go?" you ask as you zip up her jacket but she shakes her head. "oh what's wrong. what do you need?"

She stays quiet but a small mischievous smile forms on her face before she runs up to Joey and grabs a hold of his hand. "nothing i'm ready to go now" She gives you a look knowing that she made you think something was wrong. She always loved to get a reaction out of people but she was a very kind girl. Just grew up watching Joey and Chandler pull pranks on each other and other people.

Monica and Chandler say bye once again and then you all get into your car and head home

-----

It was around 4:30 when you all got home. You left Monica and Chandler's at around 4:00 and so once you all get inside Erica runs off to her little room you have set up here. "take off your shoes please and put your shoes somewhere you won't lose them"

There had been many times where you had watched her for a few days and on the day of returning home she couldn't find her shoes. She started looking for them but stopped from getting distracted. You always found them. So in response to you saying that she giggles "okay I'll put them right beside my door"

You knew that she would be in her room for a while. She didn't have a tv in there because you and Joey prefered to watch tv in the living room together on the couch. Or on a computer or something in your bedroom.

Joey walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist resting his head on your shoulder. What you thought was a sweet gesture turned out to not be, because when he placed a kiss to your neck he also whispered "im getting quite hungry. Shall we order some pizza soon?"

A groan leaves your lips as you shove him off. "See now i thought you were being affectionate. Should have known something else was on your mind" The both of you knew that you weren't actually upset. Joey was an affectionate guy so you really had no complaints there.

"I will order us pizza later darling. Now we should watch tv before the child comes to bother us again" he says

"oh hush you know that you are each others favorite person" This results in him glaring at you "no my favorite person is Chandler". You laugh and lean your head against him. "you keep telling yourself that but you know that even though you have known Chandler for many years. That the kid in their won your heart in seconds"

"yeah i guess your right"

------

Later that night after the three of you ate and had watched a movie Erica had fallen asleep in between the both of you. "ill go put her to bed" Joey said as he scoops her up almost dropping her in the process.

You laugh softly as you help him keep her steady in his arms. "Gees Joey don't drop the poor child" he just rolls his eyes and smiles "I wasn't expecting her to move around my bad"

He walks into her bedroom while you start cleaning up around the house a bit. You pick up the dishes and put them in the sink before cleaning off the counters and then washing the dishes. Then when you finish all this you notice Joey hasn't came out yet so you quietly walk to her bedroom door and see Joey holding up a children's book and reading softly to her.

She was already fast asleep with her head rested on her pillow but he continued for a little longer making sure she wouldn't wake up. When he got up he got up slowly as to not wake her before he walks over to you and kisses your lips.

When he pulls away he rests almost all his body weight against you causing you to grunt. "Okay Joey get up i can't carry you to bed" you say as he laughs a little before he walks with you to the bedroom.

As soon as you get into your bedroom and beside your bed he pulls you onto the bed. This causes the both of you laugh as you lay beside each other. "i love you" you say before kissing his lips. When you lay back down beside him he says "i love you more"

You two cuddle for a few minutes before rolling over and getting comfortable.

-----

When morning comes you open your eyes from the sun thats coming in through the window. You had expected Joey to still be in bed but when you reach over to only find a pillow next to you. "what the hell" you thought to yourself.

Your boyfriend..in the history of knowing him. He had not gotten up earlier than you. So as you sit up in bed you heard laughter coming from the kitchen and hushed speaking. You swing your legs off the bed and put on your slippers cause your feet was always cold and didnt feel like touching the floor.

So now as you walk out of your room you see Joey mixing some batter in a big bowl and him pointing to the sink. "wash your hands you got egg all over your hands" Erica giggles as she brings her fingers close to him and he swats her away gently. "wash them. Don't want to get anyone sick. Food is meant to be good for you and good. We don't want it to taste like egg and a kids grubby fingers"

She nudges him a little before she goes over to the sink and washes her hands. When you walk into the kitchen some more Joey hears you and turns his head to face you. "Good Morning handsome"

"Goodmorning. What are you guys doing?" you ask as you give Joey hug and a kiss on the cheek before walking over to Erica and she speaks. "we are making waffles for you" She opens her arms for you to hug her and so you give her one.

"well we were trying too but i think she was trying to get you sick" Joey says and this causes you to laugh. "she's like 9 she isn't going to be super sanitary yet" Joey rolls his eyes and finishes up while you and Erica make the table and sit down.

----

Later on that day you and Joey had decided to take Erica to the park since it was sunny out and finally not raining. So you made sure she was bundled up really well and went.

When the three of you got there she went and played in the snow that's left on the ground. While you and Joey walked around hand in hand just talking and keeping an eye on her too.

You and Joey hadn't talked about having kids very much. Even tho the both of you have been together for three years it's just never been a big thing for the both of you. However as you have been watching Erica more and more the past year and a half, you have been wanting to start a family with the man next to you.

"Joey" you say quietly and he turns to look at you. "y/n"

Both of your footsteps halt and you both look at eachother. "I've been thinking about something" you say and he looks at you waiting for you to say more but Erica comes running up to you asking for you to play with her.

So you give Joey a quick apologetic look and he nods in understanding as you lift Erica up and give her a piggyback ride and run with her. Which causes her to laugh like crazy.

And when you aren't looking Joey does take a few photos of you and send them to Monica and Chandler.

-----

Later that night when it was time to watch a movie. Erica insisted that you watch home alone. She loved that movie and so did you so the three of you laid on the couch. Joey sat up with your legs on his lap while you laid down and Erica laid beside you as you held her close.

The three of you were under many blankets cause being outside all day almost just froze you guys to death. So as the movie played Erica laughed and talked for a little bit through it. You talked through movies sometimes too so you made sure to do it quietly as to not bother Joey.

Joey had looked over at the both of you ever now and then but when he realized you had been awfully quiet. He looked over to see the both of you fast asleep. Erica was facing you with her head on your chest as you held her protectively close to you so she wouldn't fall off the couch.

Joey made sure the both of you were covered up and kissed the top of both of your heads before turning everything off and heading to bed himself after cleaning up a bit

-----

The next morning you woke up from Joey shaking you awake. Erica was awake and looking around the house. "hm what's going on" you ask slight worry forming in your voice. He shakes his head and kisses your lips. "nothing is wrong. Monica and Chandler are on there way to get Erica and shes looking for her shoes"

You shake your head at his words and stand up and rub your eyes. "Erica? didn't i tell you to put them in one place so you knew where they were" She looks over at you with a small smile and nods. Her face looks so apologetic and it was hard to be mad at her so you just shake your head. "come on ill help you look"

------

When Monica and Chandler walked into your home. Erica was ready to go and ran to her parents hugging them, but when she pulled away she ran directly to you and jumped in your arms. "oh hey there" you laugh and then set her down. "I want to come over again soon"

You bend down a little so your on her level and nod. "you can come over any time. Next time we can play some video games. How does that sound?" She jumps up and down and nods. "sounds amazing. I love you"

"i love you too"

She Then goes over to Joey who is talking to Chandler for a second and she hugs him tightly. "I love you too Uncle Joey" he smiles and whispers something in her ear which she seems to love cause she giggles and he kisses the top of her hand.

When they leave and the door shuts you close your eyes and notice just how quiet it is when it's just the two of you. Of course its not always quiet because Joey has a big personality and you absolutely love that about him but right now it feels empty.

You lean against Joey as he wraps his arms around your waist. "I want one" he whispers in your ear before kissing your neck. This causes you to look up at him "What a child?" he nods and you smile "well we would have to look at adoption. Or surrogate or something"

He places a kiss to your lips and nods. "Sounds like a plan. However tonight I want to spend alone time with you" You smile and pull him in for a kiss. "How could i ever say no to that"

[featheredclover]

September Rain

Chapter Five

Read from the beginning

Also on Wattpad

Chapter Four> < Chapter Six

“The balloons are lovely Shashi,” Garima smiled fondly.

Shashi huffed, pretending to brush his collar, “Well thank you dear wife!”

Khushi arranged the gifts around the beautiful cake, counting the candles in her head.

All 21 of them!

“Khushi! Wonderful gift wrapping!” Her mum ran a warm hand through her tresses.

“Now go get changed into your new dress before Payal gets here from her swim!”

————

Brushing her hair, Khushi looked into the mirror unseeingly.

What did he mean by 'obvious'?

She had tortured herself the whole night. And before she could go and ask him, she had to set off for Payal Di’s birthday. 

Why did he sound so hurt? 

She gulped down her thoughts as time came for her to head downstairs.

Glancing a last time at her powder blue dress, she slipped on her kitten heels and plastered on a smile.

————

“SURPRISE !”

Payal Di covered her mouth, her gym bag dropping on the floor.

“Thank you guys!” 

Her Di rushed forward to hug their parents, as everyone sang the birthday song completely off key.

She was engulfed into a hug next, and found Di’s whisper in her ear.

“Thank you kiddo! Meet me on the terrace after the party”

Khushi looked up, utterly confused. Had her sister guessed something was up?

All of Di’s college friends were here, and some of her school mates. Who stood out amongst the crowd was once again the tall, bespectacled man.

What her parents didn’t know, she thought with a secretive smile, was that Akash bhaiya had flown down from London just for this day. For all her bravado, Di was quite chicken when it came to declaring her love life to her family.

————

Akash stood in a charcoal black suit, smiling with a glint in his eyes.

“Happy birthday Payal “ he whispered.

“I think you have already wished me!” Payal slyly teased.

“Have I?” He winked.

She laughed, sneaking a glance at her mum and dad in a corner of the hall.

“I thought you were bringing Arnav” she asked, her tone losing all its brevity.

He shrugged, “No idea. He cancelled at the last minute.”

“Something is wrong Akash”

“What? He said nothing when I called him two days ago.”

“Did he mention Khushi?”

Akash frowned, as he struggled to recall.

“Don’t think he did. Hah! Probably because I was blabbering half of the time “

“Akash!”

“Okay, okay! First ask Khushi, and if it is my idiot’s fault , then I’ll knock some sense into him okay?”

“Yes, I’ll talk to her”

Payal found her wrist in his grip, as he bent his head down, his lips hovering over hers.

“Where’s my birthday kiss?”

She smiled.

“It’s my birthday Mr Raizada “

—————

“It’s been years since we did this, no?”

Khushi sighed , as her hair was getting a whiplash before being braided.

“Yes,  since you were busy with college mom took up the task of torturing my hair”

Di gasped, “You’ll thank me for those healthy locks you’ll have!”

“Blah, blah, blah “

Di cleared her throat and began, “Khushi…”

“Hmm?”

“How’s everything at school?”

“Everything’s fine. Dhruv is running for subcaptain”

“Is he now? Always been the head of the pack type of guy, that kid”

“Like your Akash?” Khushi smirked.

“No one my dear, can even be close to what Akash is”, she said smugly.

“You know there is a reason they say love is blind” , Khushi giggled.

“Whatever! How’s Arnav?”

She froze. Her heart felt the pierce of a thousand ice shards. 

“H-he’s good”

“Just good? You usually have an hour enough material to talk about him”

She bit her lip, unsure of where her sister was going with the conversation.

She turned around, staring straight into her concerned eyes.

“Di?”

“What’s wrong Khushi? Why wasn’t Arnav there at the party? Why have you been so lost since you came back?”

She got up and sat beside her di, the starry sky twinkling over their heads.

She looked ahead, exhaling out into the cold.

“We had a fight”

—————-

Khushi nervously looked at her Di, who had been quiet for a good minute now.

“So Lavanya is his girlfriend?”

“He didn’t deny it” , she said dejectedly.

“He didn’t accept it” , Payal Di smiled.

“And he seemed pretty jealous by you going to watch Dhruv’s match”

“Jealous? No! He was upset about me not agreeing to meet him up the stairs-”

She paused, kicking herself as she looked at her sister’s knowing face.

“Secret places you guys meet hah?”

“Shut up!”

She laughed, “Khushi. Talk to him babe. He is your friend! And even if Lavanya might be his girlfriend, you are still his friend. Having a crush can be such a pain, I know! But I know you can skate through anything and this is going to be another thing you skate over !”

Khushi smiled wistfully, “I just miss what Arnav and I used to be Di. How can everything change in a few days?”

“Welcome to adolescence!” She chuckled , “It sucks and rocks in equal measure!”

Khushi burst into giggles as Payal tickled her and tackled her down the bench.

The dawn skirted around the darkness, hesitating to intrude into the Gupta enclave.

Tagging: @arshifiesta

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Next chapter>>

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[leclerced]

lando x reader with trust issues who doesn’t believe she can be loved and that anyone who says they love her is lying and confused so the first time lando tells her he loves her she kinda freaks out and stutters and doesn’t say it back so lando pulls away and leaves because man ALSO doesn’t believe he can be loved and this confirms that and it’s a really angsty few days until she shows up at his doorstep in the rain crying that she loves him and she’s sorry

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stop ): please dont actually ): pls note my minds all over the place rn so this feels like its all over the place sryyyy but im obsessed

hey siri play mine by taylor swift (it’s def their song)

best friends to lovers where they’re sooo in love with each other but are so convinced the other person could never feel the same way. lando eventually confesses his feelings to her and then tell her it’s okay if she doesn’t love him when she just stares at him in shock thinking there’s no way he could love her like he’s saying he does. he’d take the silence as rejection and confirmation that she could never love him back, and he’d tell her she doesn’t have to say anything and she starts to but he cuts her off and says she doesn’t have to lie to make him feel better about it, either. he leaves while she’s still trying to process the words he just said to her, she wants to tell him so badly that she loves him too but she’s so scared of not being enough for him.

lando goes home and wallows in self pity for days. he's mostly upset about being stupid enough to think she felt the same, to admit to his best friend that he's been in love with her since before he knew what love was. that when he thought love didn't exist because he couldn't fall in love with his exes, it was because he was already in love with her. he wouldn’t remember to charge his phone or anything so it dies and he misses all her calls and texts asking to talk. that turns her into an anxious mess thinking he’s blocked her number, watching her texts go from imessage to undelivered texts, calls going to voicemail then not going through at all the next day.

they’ve never gone more than hours without talking, so his confession of love then no contact makes her wish she weren't so cowardly. she wishes she could have heard his declaration of love and instantly told him she felt the same. instead, her mind told her it wasn't real, that when he said he loved her he meant like a friend. that no one, especially not lando, could love her the way she loves him.

she'd show up days later looking like shit, having cried for days ab him blocking her and not loving her, for loving her and leaving her. she somehow works up the courage to drive over and talk to him in person, she has a spare key but she doesn’t feel she’s allowed to use it right then so she knocks on his door. he’d assume it’s someone else and ignore it until she keeps knocking and he gets frustrated and climbs off the couch he’s been on for days. he would so do the cliche, dramatic swing the door open while asking, “what do you want?” then see her, get all soft, and ask it again. she’d just collapse into his arms crying. he just wraps her arms around him and holds her as she cries until she can’t anymore. she'd finally tell she's sorry when the tears stop flowing and it makes him kind of angry, he'd want to push her away and tell her not to feel sorry, they both know she's too good for him and she doesn't need to apologize for being perfect, it's not her fault he's sickeningly in love with her. but then she's telling him she loves him and she's sorry it took so long to tell him, that she's scared to lose him and she's been trying to call him but she's blocked. and then she starts crying again, and asks why he blocked her, and begs him to unblock her.

he's so confused because she went from sobbing, to professing her love, to sobbing. and he didn't block her? he'd never block her? he'd pull out his phone to show her, still shoved in his sweatpants pocket from three days ago, and find it off. he'd realize he hadn't charged it since the day he saw her, and probably start laughing when the realization hits him and it hits him that she just said she loved him and cried and begged him to unblock her and it's a lil toxic but i think he's so starved for love that he'd see the pain she's in and know she loves him and can't lose him the same way he's been hurting over her for days. they'd def talk and be reallyyy sad and confess that they've been in love and both unable to see what the other sees in each other and themselves.

can def see like in the beginning of their relationship, they're so soft and delicate with each other, fearing they'll scare the other person away with how much they love them. still not trusting that they love each other as much as they promise they do, and won't leave each other. they've never had that, or had good examples of it, so they don't know how to trust each other so intimately, but they'd learn together.

lando telling her she’s the best thing that’s ever been his and she’d cry because he has so many good things in life but he’s telling her that she’s the best thing in it, with all the shiny cars and the glitz and glamour. she’s the best thing in his life n vice versa.