#and he loves mayonnaise too

[endless-ineffabilities]

find me a guy who went to both Yale and Harvard, earned a JD-MBA, passed the New York State bar exam, studied Japanese history, trained and worked as an EMT, worked as an editor-in-chief and is now a political journalist/correspondent, founded a nonprofit while still in the eighth grade, performed stand-up comedy, is passionate about public service/upholding civil rights/environmental advocacy, champions the Democratic Party, is a water sports enthusiast, and who generally does not give a fuck about what dissenters say about him on the internet...

...and maybe I can get over Jack Schlossberg.

[fumiliar]

kento nanami would unconsciously close jars a little bit too tight due to his fear of spoiled food, causing you to need his help every time you wanted to access a jar he had used in the past. yet, he never realised how tight these jars were and the level of difficulty in opening it.

slowly, he started to realise a pattern. every single jar you'd ask for help to open, it would be a jar he had used recently. the jam he used to eat along with his bread daily, the jar of mayonnaise, every single other jar he had opened, you asked for assistance.

realising this pattern, he started loosening the jars by just a little bit every time he closes it. and you just stopped asking for help, that's when his suspicions were confirmed. you were struggling because of him...

a little voice in him tells him to tighten a jar once in while, to see you asking him for help as he desperately missed. but he just can't bring himself to consciously continue this behaviour, his love for you stepping over any personal need of his, knowing that in the end, a simple pleasure towards him could cause a debilitating stress towards you, he couldn't bear that thought.

[pxmpkinchai]

just saw ur tags on the post abt adopting a tomcat and tears sprung to my eyes instantaneously!! love is alive

Thank you so much!! I am so glad that my tags were able to communicate how much I love my little old man Popeye. He is the light of my life

[mrshigurumasshop]

Pregnancy Cravings | Toji Fushiguro ~ the one where he tries your odd cravings

─➭ pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! wife reader

─➭ mentions of: reader is pregnant, anything pregnancy related, super fluffy, weird food combinations(?), toji is a lil meanie but he’s a good man here

note: i’m trying to get back into writing so i’m posting this draft i never finished

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Toji Fushiguro loves you with all he’s got and that’s a fact. He knows you like the back of his hand because you molded yourself into his and megumi’s life. So when you told him that you’re pregnant, he was practically holding back tears because he finally made what he wanted with you true.

Now going back to him knowing you like the back of his hand, that changed when you got into your second trimester of your pregnancy.

Your food cravings were the bane of his existence because of how much it changed your food choices. The things you used to like made you sick in an instant. The smell of pork belly bowl used to make your mouth water and now you turn green then run to the bathroom.

And don’t get him started on the weirdest shit you put together and that shouldn’t be together.

One time it was peanut butter and chicken. Another was vanilla ice cream with bacon bits on top, specifically from the diner that you and toji take megumi to during lunch. And this recent snack was another added to the list.

It was the ass crack of dawn when Toji woke up to hearing cupboards opening and closing, along with the fridge. He sighed as he rolled onto his back to see if you were awake but it turns out that you weren’t even in bed. To him that was an immediate sign that you woke up hungry and craving.

He throws the blanket off before getting out of bed to walk towards the kitchen. And sure enough, there you were eating a spoonful of god knows what.

“Doll…,” he quietly calls to you.

You let out a little squeak in surprise hearing the man’s deep but hot ass voice from behind you. “You scared me,” you whine with a pout.

Toji smiles as he walks towards you and sees a bowl in your hands and glides his hands on your hips. “What are you eating so early in the damn morning?” he grumbles.

“Watermelon,” you say as you lift the fork with a piece of watermelon to his mouth.

But there’s something on the watermelon. Toji doesn’t hesitate to form a scowl on his face seeing that there’s white stuff on top of it. “The fuck is that?” he deadpanned.

You roll your eyes because he’s being dramatic. “It’s good, trust me,” you say.

“That didn’t answer my question, babydoll.”

“Well, it tastes good so try it,” you bite back.

The man doesn’t trust you one bit because you crave weird shit but he can’t say no to you. So he silently answers you by taking the piece of fruit in his mouth.

And sweet god did that taste GROSS…

Toji spit it out into the sink he was next too before he could even get another bite in. “Was that fucking mayonnaise?!” he whisper-yelled, “Fuck, that was sour!”

You roll your eyes with pout because he was being unnecessarily dramatic and a bit mean. “Yeah, it’s that Kewpie mayonnaise…,” you say quietly.

“God, that was fuckin’ nasty,” he sighs aggressively as he grabs a water bottle to drink out of, “How can that taste good to you?” he says as he turns back to you.

You look up at him with a deeper pout. “Why don’t you ask the child that’s growing inside me. Jerk…,” you mumble the last part before waddling away with the bowl in your hands.

Your husband aggressively lets out a sigh as he rubs his eyes with the ball of his palms. “It’s too early for this,” he mumbled as he began to follow you out to the patio of your backyard. He leaves the screen door open to listen for Megumi as he sees you bundled up in the comfy lounge chairs eating the god awful snack in your hand.

He walks towards you in big strides as you ignore him and keep your eyes on on the backyard. He stands next to you waiting for you to acknowledge him but you still ignore him. You know he’s seething in his mind right now because he hates the silent treatment. It continues for another 45 seconds till a squeal was pulled out of you as Toji effortlessly picks you up just to sit himself back down on the chair with you on his lap.

And damn it, the man was warm. You didn’t bother to fight out of his hold because you chose to cuddle right into his chest. You nuzzle your forehead into his neck and position your fuzzy socked feet in between his thigh and the dip of the chair. You keep the bowl of watermelon on your lap to continue eating.

Toji was pulling the blanket that was covering over you to fit both of you as you got comfy on his lap. One of his arms wrap around your round tummy oh so gently to get you as close to him as possible. His other arm wrap around your legs to keep your lower half warm.

“I’m still mad,” you mumble softly as you shove another piece of watermelon in your mouth.

“I know, baby,” he smiles softly feeling you chew with your cheek against his chest, “I’m still a jerk but don’t be a brat and sit out here without me in the cold.” You smile at his “apology” as you continue eating with silence. Then you hear Toji sigh before he speaks again,

“Just so you know…I’ll always be grateful that you’re my wife and the mother to both my kids.”

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[luveline]

if you are looking for spencer and bombshell requests, what about the first time a girl flirts with spencer after they start dating, but bombshell is fully secure because she knows her worth and understands that he’s a catch? if you need more ideas i can squeeze my brain really hard

love ur brain pls keep squeezing it <3 fem!reader

You’re the cheesy girlfriend no one expects you to be. You change your phone contact for Spencer to ‘My Sweet Boyfriend’ with a heart, you hold his hand in stupid places (though you’d done that before, sometimes), you bring him coffee, you fluster when he kisses your cheek no matter your disposition —you're overwhelmed in the honeymoon phase, and everybody’s surprised. 

“That’s not very cool of you,” Morgan says, having noticed your ducked head, your smile dripping with a private pleasure and your cheek still shining with Spencer’s quick kiss. He’s gone to find plastic cutlery. 

“I’m not that cool when it comes to Spencer,” you say. 

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” 

Morgan is as pleased for you both finally getting together as anyone, even if he finds it foreign. It is weird to suddenly be openly in love with each other, and likely stranger for the team to see you in anything that isn’t total calm collection. 

“He’s so lovely.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Morgan says, more earnest now as he slaps a rolled sandwich down in front of you. “He’s a catch. I asked for no mayonnaise, was I supposed to do that?” 

Emily tucks her seat in next to yours. “He’s totally trapped by that secretary again, I hate to tell you.” 

You turn around. 

“Why would you tell her that?” Morgan asks. 

“What?” 

You peer out of the office door, where Spencer’s being chatted to by a stunningly attractive secretary. She has dark skin and darker hair, alluring almond eyes that light her sweetheart face with a bright charm. “Oh, she’s getting prettier,” you say. 

You’ve got Spencer Reid locked in. Nothing in you doubts that he’s currently infatuated with you. You don’t even care when he laughs at her joke, or when she dips her head bashfully toward him. 

“You better go and get your man,” Morgan says. 

“What for?” 

“She’s flirting hard,” JJ says. She’s only just looked up from her phone. “He’s gonna start blushing.” 

As if. You turn back to the table, unwrapping the paper from your sandwich with a happy sigh. Spencer looks so cute when he blushes, his cheeks turn pink and he smiles like he’s being tickled, it’s adorable. If that pretty secretary wants to do the hard work for you, it’s her prerogative. He’s your boyfriend. 

“I don’t need to do anything, he’s fine,” you say. 

You’re cutting your sandwich in half when you feel a presence behind your back. A familiar hand closes around your shoulder, a voice in your ear, “Thanks for nothing.” 

You giggle at his embarrassed tone, turning your face up to his, immediately delighted by his pink-tinged cheeks and neck. “You looked like you were having fun!” 

“You’re not gonna pretend to be mad?” he asks, leaning over you to open your sandwich. He pulls out a sad looking tomato and a similarly wilted slice of lettuce and closes it again. “Did you want a drink? I can’t believe you.” 

“Spencer, did you want me to come and get you?” you tease. 

“It would’ve been nice of you. Drink?” 

You laugh again, tugging him down by the wrist. “No, Spencer, I don’t want a drink, just sit down. What was I supposed to do? I’m not gonna pull her off of you.” 

“But why?” he asks, nearly not quite pouting. “She asked me if it was too hot in here for me.” He sits in the chair beside you, his hand dropping to the soft inside of your thigh as he leans in imploringly. “If you cared about me at all–”

Everybody laughs, including yourself. He’s clearly joking, and for once nobody on the team mistakes it for ineptitude, which seems to cheer him up. He gives your leg a rather bold squeeze considering who he is and where you are, and again when you gesture for him to lift his face to plant a kiss on the ridge of his jaw. “I do care about you, Spencer. Sorry I wasn’t jealous. Should we try again?” 

He turns your face away from your coworkers, eye to eye. “You’re making fun of me.” 

His hand trails to your elbow. “No,” you say, your skin tingling under his touch. 

“I don’t believe you. And I know you need a drink, they didn’t send your bottle of water. I didn’t manage to find those forks, either.” 

He gets up again. He hasn’t so much as glanced at his own food, patting your back in a promise that he’ll return before he edges out of the office and into the station’s bullpen. You take a smug bite of your sandwich. You can’t hide it.

“Told you,” you say once you’ve swallowed. You hadn’t needed to do anything, and you really aren’t worried about other women. “He likes me a lot.” 

“Understatement of the year.” 

You send Morgan a loving smile. When you glance over your shoulder, Spencer’s taking the long way through the office to the water cooler.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve never had a particularly strong desire to get high. Altered mind states have always been somewhat unappealing to me. The only drug I’ve ever enjoyed taking was a prescription strength muscle relaxant that loosened all my knots at once and sent me into the boneless slumber of jello. Top marks.

But I have dabbled with pot. As I’m wildly sensitive to smoke my only recourse was to try edibles and anyone could’ve predicted this was a recipe for disaster. So here’s the story of the first time I got high.

Brendan was a major stoner. He was a high energy guy who loved hiking, had his shit together, and absolutely loved getting high and relaxing. One day he decided to make pot brownies. Brendan was an amazing cook in his own right but he came into my life at a time when I was eating mayonnaise sandwiches and started giving me real food so I viewed him as a paragon of cookery. He made amazing desserts. And he didn’t make a batch of no pot brownies.

I’d never had one of Brendan’s brownies, before, but dear god I wanted one when they came out of the oven in a waft of rich chocolatey smells. They were fudgey and perfect and all that I wanted in the world was to eat one. I watched him take a bite, burning with envy and desire.

Being high seemed like a small price to pay if only I could sink my teeth into the warm splendor of brownie. I came up to where he was sitting on the couch, slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hey. I want to try a bite,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I was sure as fuck that I wanted that brownie in my mouth.

Brendan was sat facing the tv and held up his hand without looking so I could take a bite. I am not a creature of modest bites. And I wanted that brownie. I took a huge bite, carving into the interior of the brownie, leaving Brendan with a only a rim.

He pulled his hand back and saw the brownie crime I had committed and gave a resigned chuckle. “Well this is going to be fun.”

On one other occasion in my life I’ve tried an edible and there was a brief relaxed period before things went horribly wrong that made me think, this is probably where most people stop and enjoy themselves.

But on this occasion, the massive bite of brownie didn’t drift me slowly up through layers of being high. It skyrocketed me into high space with great prejudice. I have no memory of a middle point, I wasn’t high and then I was suddenly so high I couldn’t function.

I’ve heard people talk about paranoia. I didn’t have that. Some people mention nervousness, no, none of that for me. My mind was simply gone. A thought would blip to life on one side of my brain and fail to travel through the fog to find its conclusion. I couldn’t think. I wasn’t really experiencing sensation. I was nothing in the void.

When Brendan realized I’d been staring wall eyed at nothing for too long he said, “How are you doing?”

It took a long time to process the words and even longer to slur out, “I can see everything.”

I don’t remember him getting up and leaving, or waiting, or anything really. Thoughts flickered and died in my mindscape, meaningless and alone.

Then Brendan put headphones on me.

I was unable to conceive of anything as wonderful as music surrounding me, and thus began the only nice part of the trip. I might have experienced ego death but at least I had the ethereal sounds of Pure Reason Revolution to wrap myself in.

I’m not sure how long the nice phase lasted. But eventually something started going wrong in my mouth. My throat became uncomfortable enough to pierce the haze I was in. It was almost numb, and impossibly dry. I drank water to no avail. Finally I conceived of the solution. “Ice cream!” I demanded of Brendan.

He went to grab some and I was dismayed that when I took a bite the sensation in my throat intensified. “It made it worse,” I complained.

“Made what worse?” Brendan asked, because of course I hadn’t actually told him why I’d wanted ice cream.

When I told him what was happening he said, “Oh, of course ice cream is going to make cotton mouth worse.”

“Well then why did you give it to me!” I complained. He smiled fondly at my irrational grumping and got me more water.

Finally I’d had enough. Music couldn’t erase my discomfort, I was getting frustrated I couldn’t think but I was still high as balls and I wanted the night to be over. Brendan suggested I go to bed so I climbed up into my bed and lay there, uncomfortably high.

I couldn’t sleep. My throat was so cottony, a side effect I hadn’t known existed and I thoroughly loathed.

Then I thought: I could masturbate! Brendan had talked about enjoying that while high. I’d give it a shot. My body however was wiser than my head and was having none of this plan. It refused to respond, stubbornly insisting that now was not the time.

I doubled down, refusing to give up on this horrible idea and in a bitter struggle, and against my body’s own wishes, I produced an orgasm that rated a 0 on the pleasure scale. Something happened but it was like a resentful flex of muscles that stopped immediately.

Furious with the overall experience of being high I buried my head in pillows and finally slept. I told Brendan the next day about my attempt and he facepalmed so hard. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep! You were way too high to enjoy that.”

I grumbled and agreed that it was very stupid. I tried to weigh the single bite of brownie I had with the absolutely wretched hours of discomfort and while it didn’t quite balance it was still pretty close. It was a really good brownie.

[allthingscons1dered]

As someone who grew up with 5 older brothers, I cannot help but think of how older-brother-coded both Dick Grayson and Jason Todd are.

(A/N: It’s not that I don’t love Tim and Damian also, they just give off more younger brother vibes to me. Also, I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, please don’t hate me if it’s not.)

CW: None, slight cursing.

So I proudly introduce as my first ever post:

Annoying Older Brother!Dick Grayson and Jason Todd Headcannons:

Batfam x gn!reader

Y’all ever come home from school excited for the leftovers that you’ve thought about all day and FIND THEM GONE?!?! Jason ate them. Just to spite you. And he won’t even play dumb about it either. He will admit it so carelessly.

“Did you put your name on it?” He’ll shrug with confidence. He gives no fucks. He needs that caloric intake.

Jason is that sibling who you’ll argue with until you’re blue in the face and then text you 20min later with no explanation, just: “food?”. (Said argument was probably about the leftovers btw).

And you’ll still go get food with him because, well, siblings.

Dick is an older brother in the way he’s not even the tiniest bit nonchalant. He will 100% tell the cringiest stories about you in front of anyone you bring home. Unapologetically.

Or drop you off at school with the most EMBARRASSING song blasting from the speakers. He lives for it.

Another thing about Jason? He will absolutely barge into your room, flex in your mirror, knock shit off of your dresser, throw something at you, and then leave. Completely unprovoked.

He probably even steals the current book you’re reading from your nightstand.

It will return a day later out of nowhere.

Imagine just chilling on the couch, scrolling on your phone and suddenly you’re bombarded with their presence.

“Is that a *boy/girl* you’re texting?” Jason will ask as he looks over your shoulder, knowing damn well it’s not.

But guess what? Denying it would just make it worse.

And of course, Dick would freak out.

Because why would his younger sibling be dating? You’re way too young; practically a baby in his eyes.

In the case that you’re actually talking up your latest crush, Jason would have the following reaction:

“I don’t give a damn who you date,” But give him ten minutes and he’ll hit you with the classic, “so what’s this kid’s name again?” He will be looking them up later.

I think Jason would try to be the brother who acts like he doesn’t care but would most definitely be over your shoulder 24/7 about a lot of things. Dating being one of them.

One time, my brothers shoved me into a box, taped it shut and then set me on the front porch. These two shitheads would do that— or something similar, like hanging you upside down from a grappling hook— and say, “It builds character.”

Ohhhh, that reminds me. You think the two of them are annoying individually. Think of them both TOGETHER.

You try to avoid being around the both of them at any given time, but it’s inevitable.

Like picture yourself coming home after fighting some D-list villain like Condiment King— because of course everyone else was busy— hoping that no one else is back from patrol.

But no! No, no, no. Why would the world ever want you to be so lucky?

In front of the Batcomputer sits Dick and Jason, there to witness your arrival in your mustard-and-mayonnaise-covered suit. Dick will at least attempt to hide the smile behind his hand.

Jason openly laughs his ass off. Tears will be brushed from his eyes as you glare at his shameless reaction.

“Well, I hope you were able to ketchup to him,” Dick cracks with a grin.

The sound of their laughter follows you as you retreat to the locker room, middle finger raised in their direction.

[babyfoxflower]

Professor

Human! Professor! Alastor x Fem! Reader

Modern College AU

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Age Gap (Alastor is 32 and Reader is 22), Soft! Dom Alastor, Oral Sex (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Reader calls Al “Daddy,” Creampie

You groaned, “Fuck.”

You woke up to something soft rubbing against your face. You opened your eyes to see a cat drooling on your face.

I don’t have a cat.

You then realize that you’re not at home. The memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Immediate embarrassment washed over you. You sat up.

“Morning, Sunshine!”

“Morning, Professor,” the smell of bacon filled your nose.

“Come now, we’re not in class. Please call me Alastor,” he smiled at you.

Your vision focused to see Alastor making bacon and eggs.

“Hope you don’t mind, I made you breakfast. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“No, I love eggs and bacon. Thank you…Alastor,” his name felt strange on your tongue, but you liked it.

Your attention turned to the cat, her fur was pure white and she had big green eyes.

“Your cat is cute. What’s her name?” You asked.

“Oh, thank you. She is quite lovely, isn’t she? Her name’s Luna.”

“Luna? Like the moon?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t she remind you of a full moon?”

You studied her for a moment, “Yes, I suppose she does….” You grinned as you pet her.

“Breakfast is ready,” Alastor said casually as if this situation was normal.

Does he not feel how awkward this is? I, a student, came over drunk and tried to seduce him. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.

“Alright, thank you,” you replied as you got out of his bed, smoothing out the sheets the best you could, and moved to the couch.

Alastor sat down next to you and handed you your breakfast along with a fork for the eggs.

“I can make you some toast too, if you’d like?”

“No, thank you. You’re very kind, but this should be enough for now.”

As soon as you took a bite of those soft scrambled eggs, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t necessarily scarf them down, put you did eat them rather quickly.

“I assuming by your expressions, the eggs were good?” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, he had also finished his portion.

“Mm, yes, they were delicious! They might be the best eggs I’ve ever had, what did you put in them?”

“Mayonnaise. It adds creaminess and deepens the flavor.”

“Mayo? I usually hate mayo. But this tasted amazing.”

“I also butter the pan instead of using cooking spray.”

“My, aren’t you quite the chef?” You chuckled.

“I learned from the best. However, I can’t quite get them to taste like my mom’s. I don’t know what her secret is, she won’t even tell me!” He laughed.

“Are you close to your mom?” You asked before taking a bite of bacon, trying to make light conversation.

“Yes. I don’t get to see her that often anymore. She still lives in New Orleans. But I try to keep in touch with her as much as I can.”

“Oh, are you from New Orleans?”

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised,” he said with a Southern drawl, there was pride in his voice.

“Ooo, I like that accent. Is it natural or put on?”

“Natural, however I’ve lost it a bit.”

“I guess moving so far up North will do that,” you smiled.

“Well, it didn’t help me keep it. That’s for sure,” he laughed. “How are you feeling, Darling? Does your head hurt at all?” He changed the subject.

“No, surprisingly. That Tylenol from last night must have worked.”

“I told you. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you. You have a very comfortable mattress.”

You have a very comfortable mattress? Way to sound like a normal person, Y/n.

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear? You keep making uncomfortable faces.”

“I’m alright, I just…feel a little awkward….”

“Why?”

“Because of last night.”

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward about that.”

“But I embarrassed myself.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t even do anything wrong, my dear,” he flashed you a reassuring smile.

“Still, that was the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” you looked down at your bare feet, the shine of your red toe nail polish catching the light.

Alastor placed his plate on the coffee table before lifting up your chin, making you look at him, “Y/n, what you did in the grand scheme of things wasn’t even that bad. You haven’t at all changed my opinion of you, I still like and respect you. We all have rough nights, Darlin’.”

You put your plate down next to his. You brought your hand to his, giving it a light squeeze. He squeezed yours back.

“You want me to tell you an embarrassing story from my college days?” He asked.

“Yes,” you smiled.

The two of you leaned back on the couch. You rested your head on your arm as you listened intently to his story.

“Let’s see, it was my junior year, and my friends and I went out for a drinks. Back then, I wasn’t really good at pacing myself and would often end up getting plastered. Fast forward to the end of the night and I was stumbling up the steps to my apartment building. It was at that moment I realized that I had lost my key to my apartment.”

“Oh no.”

“Hold on, it gets worse. For some reason in my drunken state, I convinced myself that I couldn’t get in the building itself without my key,” he shook his head, “So I got this genius idea, I would scale the building all the way up to my roommate’s window and knock on it until he’d let me in.”

“Oh my god, did you fall!?”

“No, I actually succeeded in climbing up there. Amazingly, as it was on the tenth floor. The problem was my roommate wasn’t waking up. No matter how hard I banged on that window, he would not get out of bed. I was about to give up and find somewhere else to sleep that night, when I heard the sound of sirens.”

You knew where this was going, “Someone called the cops?”

“Someone called the cops.”

“What happened after that?”

“I explained everything to them the best I could. And then they informed me I didn’t need to have my key to get into the building, I could just have one of my neighbors buzz me in. I felt like the stupidest person alive,” he laughed.

“Did you ever make it to your apartment?” You giggled.

“Yes, it turns out that it wasn’t even locked. My roommate had a habit of not locking up before bed. And I didn’t even lose my key, it was in my back pocket,” Alastor visibly cringed, mentally face palming. “So, you see, my dear, you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Do you feel better now?”

“A little bit. Thank you, Alastor,” you blushed.

“Of course, Sweetheart,” he smiled.

You started to feel more at ease. There was something about him that made you feel safe and warm. You knew that you picked the right person to be with.

For whatever reason, a memory popped into your mind from last night. You remembered something Alastor had said to you before you went to sleep.

“I promise, if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I will give you exactly what you want.”

A small grin made its way on your face.

“You know, I think there’s something on your glasses. Let me get it off for you,” you moved from your spot on the couch and straddled his lap.

You took his glasses off his face carefully and pretended to examine them.

The whole time he had this smile on his face that made it evident that he knew exactly what you were doing and he was throughly enjoying it.

“Oh, my mistake. It must just been the light,” you slid his glasses back on him, smoothly tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

He chuckled, “If you wanted to sit in my lap, you could have just asked. I wouldn’t have said no.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re quite charming, you know that?”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes, very much so. And quite gorgeous too, if I may be so bold?” He stroked your cheek bone with his thumb.

“You may. I wanted to ask you something?” You wrapped your arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist in turn, “Yes? What is it, dollface?”

You blushed at the old timey term of endearment, “Do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“I said many things to you last night. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

You leaned in close to his ear, “You said, “if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I’ll give you exactly what you want,” well guess what? I’m still very interested.”

“Are you, now?” A sultry smirk formed on his lips. His hands slid down from your waist to your hips.

“Yes,” you nodded.

He squeezed your hips lightly. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then.”

You let out a little yelp as he lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. His cat immediately ran to hide under the sofa, as if she knew what was about to happen.

He laid you down on the bed, before crawling on top of you.

Alastor leaned in and you expected him to kiss your lips, but instead he started planting kisses up and down your neck.

“You tease!”

“Now, now. Patience is a virtue, my dear,” his breath hot against your skin.

“But I want to kiss you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You will. Just relax and let Daddy take care of you.”

Fuck that’s hot.

His words made your core heat up even more.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praised.

He returned to kissing your neck, nice and slow. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the cold of his glasses made for an interesting sensation. His mouth supple and skillful. He definitely knew what he was doing. He reached a particular place that had you moaning like crazy.

“Ahh…ahh…ahh.”

You had never experienced so much pleasure from something as simple as neck kissing before.

You could feel him smirking against your neck. He began focusing all his attention on that one spot. You ran your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. Kisses slowly turned into gentle sucking, producing a wet sound.

Alastor switched back and forth between kissing and sucking. You bit down on your lip as you let out little mews and moans. You noticed he started sucking down on your neck slightly harder.

Is he giving me a hickey?

He gave one final firm suck before pulling away with a satisfying pop.

After taking a moment to admire not just his handiwork but how absolutely breathtaking you looked, your face flushed and eyes darkened over with lust - which matched his own - and full of desperation, at last his lips finally met your needy ones.

Again the kissing started off slow, a sensual exchange between two tender mouths. Lips moved in sync with each others. Soft moans filled the room. His fingertips teasingly traced over your curves.

You tilted your head to the side, suddenly feeling his warm wet tongue on your bottom lip. He ran his tongue across the shape of your lip, wanting entry. You denied him playfully.

“Oh, so you’re going to be naughty, hmm?”

You didn’t respond, instead just smiling cheekily.

He locked lips with you again but this time, he bit down on your bottom lip and tugged on it a few times, not hard but enough to make you to make gasp.

“Oh Daddy, you have some sharp canines!”

Alastor took advantage of your open mouth, and slid his tongue in. You flicked the tip of his tongue with yours before letting him explore. It tickled slightly when he licked the roof of your mouth. You licked the soft underside of his tongue.

It took you a minute to notice that his sneaky hands found their way under your shirt and were unhooking your bra. You didn’t even have to help him, he got it off of you faster than any other guy you had ever been with. You were practically purring as those big strong hands of his started massaging your sensitive mounds. He groaned at how wonderful your tits felt in his palms. How easily they squished for him.

He continued to stimulate one of your breasts with one hand as he used his other hand to lift up your shirt. You helped him get it off of you. The sudden rush of cold air gave you goosebumps.

His eyes lit up, “You’re beautiful. Every inch of you is absolutely gorgeous, Darlin’.”

Those words were enough to turn you into a blushing mess with butterflies in your stomach.

“Please, Daddy. Just take me,” you begged as you pushed your bosoms together.

“Oh, I will. But please allow me the honor of getting to taste you first, Baby,” he raised an eyebrow seductively.

“Wait, you’ll actually do that?”

“Yes, I bet you taste divine. But of course if you’re not comfortable with it…”

“No I am, it’s just…this would the first time.”

“Oh I see, well then I’ll have to make sure that’s it’s extra enjoyable for you,” he grinned.

Alastor began kissing his way down from your collarbone to your chest, from your chest to your stomach, and from your stomach to the seam of your jean shorts - they were the ones that were high rise and had three buttons. Slowly, he unbuttoned them one by one before undoing the zipper. All the while, he watched as you bit your lip from anticipation.

He smirked, “No panties?”

“I thought it would be a pleasant surprise,” you winked.

“Indeed it was, my little peach,” he rid you of your remaining item of clothing.

He spread your legs open, licking his lips at the sight of your soaking pussy. You let out a little squeak as he lifted up your hips and pulled you closer. You wondered what it was even going to feel like. You had only ever been fingered.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Alastor planted a kiss on your inner thigh, “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

You lightly grasped his hair as he slowly ran his tongue up and down your labia. It felt so warm. You covered your mouth to try to muffle the amount of moans that were escaping you. He continued with long strokes from your clit to your entrance. You could feel him groaning against your vulva as if you were the best thing he ever tasted. The vibrations only added to the pleasant sensation.

Suddenly, you felt a finger enter you. It reached up deep in your cunt until it found that special place inside of you. He added another one of his nimble fingers, stimulating your sweet spot with a come hither motion.

“Daddy,” you drooled.

You closed your eyes, tears starting to form around your eyes.

“Baby, look at me.”

“No! It feels too good!”

“Please, dear, look at me.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, his face buried in your pussy.

“Good girl,” he praised, “Also, don’t muffle your adorable noises so much. I quite enjoy them.”

“Ye…yesss, Daddy.”

You gripped onto the sheets, making sure to keep eye contact with him. Your wails of pleasure mixed with the squelching sounds coming from your cunt. The smell of sex filled the air.

Alastor’s attention turned to your clit, flicking it a few times with his tongue. To which you made a noise that you had never made in your entire life. It was not long until you felt that coil tightening in your stomach, your walls fluttering on his fingers.

“…’m close…” you managed to get out.

“Is that so? I better pick up the pace then,” a smug smirk made its way onto his face.

Before you could even ask what that meant, he latched his mouth down on your bundle of nerves, his head bobbing slightly as he sucked. His fingers moved in and out of you faster. Your head fell back and your toes curled as you felt that coil, not just come undone, but snap. You screamed out his name as you gushed all over him. He gladly drank up all the nectar that you gave him, moaning as he savored every last drop.

You laid there for a seconds while coming down from your high, you breath heavy. That was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. It was as if your soul had ascended out of your body.

Alastor gave one final little kiss on your clit, “Mmm, that was absolutely delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

You chuckled lightly, “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal.”

“Meal? That was merely the appetizer,” he smiled, licking your remaining juices of his fingers.

He got up and began to undress. You watched him intently as he unbuttoned his shirt. He was lean and muscular. That with his handsome face, lovely eyes, and gorgeous hair, he was absolute smoke show.

“My, oh my, Daddy, I didn’t know you had a six pack!” You licked your lips, “and look at those guns too. Absolutely scrumptious.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me self conscious,” he joked.

“Please, you have a beautiful body,” you said looking him up and down.

“Not as beautiful as yours,” he replied.

“You always know what to say,” you blushed.

“Well, I am a Communications professor,” he said as he unbuckled his belt.

That’s right, you had almost forgotten that he was a professor, your professor.

Oh well, already made it this far with him. Might as well keep going.

You flipped over onto your stomach, facing him, “Do you mind if I help you with this last part, Daddy?” You reached out, fingering the button of his pants.

“Be my guest, dollface,” he grinned.

You slowly undid the button, before pulling down the zipper. Excitement washed over you as you helped free his hardened member from his boxers. Not only was it big but pretty too.

You took it into your hand, pumping it a few times, “Mmm…Daddy, you have a nice big cock.”

He let out a deep moan as you gently wrapped your lips around the head, letting your tongue run across the tip.

“Ah, as lovely as that feels, my darling,” Alastor took hold of your chin, “I don’t think I can wait much longer to fuck your pretty little pussy.”

His smooth voice, like velvet, sent a shiver through you. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva connected your lips to the tip of his dick.

He finished taking off his pants and boxers before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You crawled backwards, lips still locked with his, on the bed until your head reached the pillows. You adjusted your head on the soft pillow until you find the right position.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

He smiled and brushed your hair out of your face, “Let me know if you need or simply want to stop, alright? Your comfort is my number one priority, my dear.”

You stroked his face, “You’re so sweet. I’ll let you know.”

He lifted your leg and placed on his shoulder before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, please fuck me, Daddy.”

You took a deep breath as he started to ease himself into your pussy. Your walls stretched to accommodate his large cock. Little moans escaped your lips. He groaned in satisfaction.

“Fuck…” he hissed, “Your cunt fits me perfectly, Baby. Like you were made to take me.”

You blushed. “Maybe I was…” you mumbled under your breath.

Alastor suddenly reached that special place inside of you, to which you mewed loudly. He smirked and rolled his hips. You reached down to rub your clit, but he beat you to it.

He began to thrust in and out of you, slow and steady, making sure to hit that spot inside you every time. His name kept slipping past your lips, “Alastor…Alastor…oh, Alastor.”

He put his forehead to yours, making sure the only thing you could focus on was him, “Y/n, you sound so pretty,” he moaned before kissing you.

You traced the muscles of his back as you returned his kisses. You carefully removed your leg from his shoulder before wrapping both of your legs around his waist. You wanted him to be as close to you as possible.

He took hold of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours, gently pinning your arms against the pillow, as he positioned himself so that his pubic bone was stimulating your bundle of nerves. You moved your hips in rhythm with his.

As soon as he pulled away, you took the opportunity to plant a few kisses on his Adam’s apple. You were planning on giving him a hickey to match the one he gave you. He moaned, the vibrations tickling your lips. You got your mouth as low as you possibly could, before starting to suck.

“You naughty little thing,” he playfully scolded.

You kissed and sucked his tender skin until you were satisfied that it left a mark.

“What? I’m just returning the favor,” you innocently said.

You let out a yelp as Alastor suddenly picked up the pace. It was then you realized that coil was tightening in stomach again, your spongy walls fluttering on his big cock.

“I’m…close,” you moaned.

“Cum for me, baby, come undone on my cock,” he licked the shell of your ear.

The bed creaked, the lewd sound of slurping mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, accompanied by the chorus of moans and sighs. Alastor looked into your eyes as you had yet your second orgasm. This time, your eyes rolled back, your mouth agape.

He groaned nonstop as your pussy milked him, coaxing him to climax as well. But he wouldn’t let himself just yet. He fucked you through your high.

“Roll over for me, Darlin’.”

“What?” You asked.

“Please, I want to feel you cum just one more time,” he kissed your forehead.

“Alright,” you rolled over on your stomach.

You had never been taken from behind before.

“Oh, you’re gorgeous from this position too,” he said as he ran his hands down your back.

He paused when he got to your lower back before squeezing your ass, “Cute tattoo,” you could feel him smirking.

You had a little heart tattoo on your left cheek. You blushed, burying your face into the pillow, “Thank you.”

He chuckled before reinserting himself into you, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

He soon found an even rhythm. He planted kisses on your shoulder. You purred as he took one of your tits into his hand, massaging your nipple with his thumb. His other hand found its way on your swollen clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Feels so good, Daddy!” You cried out as you reached behind you, gripping his hair.

“Keep pulling my hair,” he huffed into your ear.

You obeyed and tugged lightly on it as you were reaching your third climax. The coil built up and came undone. This time when you milked him, you could feel him twitching inside of you.

“Fuck. I’m close,” he growled in your ear.

“Cum inside me, Daddy,” you begged.

“Are you sure, dollface?”

“Yeah…it’s fine…I’m on the pill.”

Alastor moaned your name as he filled your cunt with his hot cum.

“So warm,” you moaned, stroking your lower stomach.

He collapsed on top of you, his member softening inside you. Both of you were covered in sweat, faces flushed, panting.

He rolled over next to you, pulling you into his arms. You turned your body so that you could face him.

Alastor smiled and kissed you gently, “You’re…perfect...”

“No…that’s…all you. Mister ‘I value the woman’s pleasure over my own.’ You are a dream come true.”

He laughed, “I’m far from perfect, Sweetheart. I just try to make others happy. Though, I’ll admit the only person happiness I’m interested in is yours now.”

You blushed, “I feel the same. I’m only interested in making you happy.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he pulled you even closer to him.

“Alastor?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can we do this again sometime?”

“Only if you let me buy you dinner first next time,” he grinned.

“Nothing would make me happier,” you smiled brightly, snuggling up in his chest.

He hummed as he stroked your hair, fully satisfied in every way possible.

Taglist 🏷️: @shealizxx @psychesetra @chibistar45 @lady-intellectual @vxllys @2dmenforme @michi-keinz @canary58143

[cattjull]

'𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢— 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙. 𝖎𝖎

bsf!ellie x reader 🤭

PART 1

SUMMARY: "Truth or dare? Kiss me." As you thought, throwing away your friendship with Ellie wasn't as simple as that. If she only didn't ran away... Now what?

CW: r!is afab, alcohol game, smut?, strap use (e! receiving),

A/N: Pls enjoy and sorry for taking so long <3

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you like me?" Your eyes shifted to Ellie's lips for a split second, just a teeny tiny small amount of time which she wouldn't notice since she was so drunk, at least you hoped so. The atmosphere or, maybe, the weather had turned unbearably hot.

"I won't tell you Els." You said, the fact that you didn't want to answer that question said enough itself. You bent down and stretched your body a little to reach the bottle.

You kind of felt relieved to get away from Ellie. Her words worked like spells on you and that, the way she touched you and the fact you were kinda drunk too made you almost confess your feelings to her and, what if she was just drunk and didn't like you? Even worse, what if that happened and Ellie remembered everything next day (there was no way she remembered), what if everything changed?

You grabbed the bottle, directed it towards your mouth and took two sips of that drink that you didn't even like, a trickle of vodka escaping treacherously from your mouth. You wiped it with your fingers, leaving a little of lipstick on them.

"Truth or dare, Dina?" Dina was so shocked by both of you that she almost jumped when you turned towards her.

"What? Oh yeah, dare."

"I dare you to tell some guy here you're pregnant and it's from him."

3 a.m.

"I dare you to kiss the girl on your left." He said with amusement shining in his eyes. Ellie looked at her hands, trying to remember what was her left, and looked at you. Her eyes went directly to your lips and her face turned crimson red.

"What? Why?"

"It's a dare , Ellie." He said shrugging while trying not to laugh.

"You don't get to tell me when to kiss my girlfriend." Ellie said, crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows.

"Your what?" You laughed. Ellie then looked at you, mentally debating something. She got close in less than a second, now being inches away from your face. Her hands were on both sides of your hips, the way she was bending over you making you drool.

"Can I, babe? Your lips look- I mean, it's a dare." She was all so flustered, her rosy cheeks glowed and her parted lips hydrated with her transparent lipgloss looked delicious under your gaze. And, wait- what did she just call you? Babe? Well, how could you say no? You both wanted it, it didn't matter if it was just because of the alcohol. It didn't matter if it was a mistake.

You just stayed looking at eachother for a few seconds, doubt glimpsing in your eyes, and hers. What could go wrong? Absolutely nothing. And maybe it was for that four horrible sips from when you were dared to eat a whole jar of mayonnaise thirty minutes ago, but kissing Ellie seemed like a good idea. A really good one.

You leaned in closer, feeling her minty scent now mixed with alcohol. She broke the almost inexistent gap between your lips as she positioned herself close to you. Her lips were wet from the lipgloss and yours were a little sticky from your lip oil and the matte lipstick underneath it, her mouth tasted like chocolate and alcohol and you hoped she could feel the vainilla scent from your Victoria's Secret lip gloss: you had put on that one specifically because you knew Ellie loved it. You held Ellie's short hair, tied messily in a half ponytail, and her hands placed on your waist, pulling you closer. Ellie's tongue got slowly into your mouth, and seconds later you were devouring eachother until you felt two hands from the same person who dared you to kiss separating you.

"Okay girls, that wasn't in the script." You suddenly shifted your gaze to Lacy, who was frowning with a kinda... scary? expression at her phone whose camera, you were sure, was pointing directly at you seconds ago. It mustn't be it, you thought, and then looked at the guy who caused you and Ellie to pull apart. "Just get a room."

"Very funny, Liam."

"I'm Nate but thanks."

The rest of the night passed with a hint of something between you and Ellie. Plus, you found out Lacy had sent a 45 seconds video of you and Ellie making out to a bit less than half of the people in the party were... enough for everyone to find out.

Now it wasn't just Dina and your best friends (excluding Ellie duh) joking about Ellie and you. It was everyone there in the party.

Half of them suspected before about you being in love just because you were lesbians and the other half didn't even know you at all but just had a gut feeling that there was some chemistry between you. So, under that context, when a video like that is sent to you, how could you ignore it and not tell someone else? It was just the truth.

You couldn't blame anyone, though. In one hour everyone knew you had turned into girlfriends, deciding to reveal your relationship to everyone it in a very public way (nope, that didn't happen) and no one really cared or would remember it in some days but gossip is gossip, and god you just couldn't pull back in that video that lasted like... 40 seconds? It was something scandalous and it felt great to spread something like that, somehow.

After a girl that you were sure she was in the cheerleader team told you she supported you with a sweet smile on her face and exchanging some words and a smile, you said goodbye to your friends and called an Uber: It was getting too late and you were getting too drunk.

You held Ellie's hand and dragged her to the outside of that big house, some guys making jokes and speculating about your destination or what were you going to do later, which definitely (and sadly) wasn't where they thought it was. The warm nocturne spring air stroked your whole body delicately when you opened the doors, giving you an instant moment of relief as your ears enjoyed the outside, much less noisier than inside of the building.

"We're going home, Ellie."

"What? Weren´t you taking me outside to...? Oh, going home. Rightt." Suddenly you had Ellie's arms around your waist, pulling you closer and pressing your bodies together, her face dangerously close to yours with a smug smile as her raspy voice worked like an Aphrodite's spell on you. You felt your face heat up for probably the millionth time this night: Ellie had been way clingier than in any other party binge. You put your hands in Ellie's soft face, letting yourself enjoy her warmness and at the same time stopping her from getting closer; you wouldn't be able to resist the tentation if she did, and in some way this felt wrong.

"Ellie please stop. You'll regret this tomorrow." It hurt you to say.

"I guess I'll wait home." She huffed.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" You sat on the entrance staircase and Ellie did the same.

"I want to talk now." You chuckled.

"What do you want to talk about?" Ellie let her head fall on your shoulder, allowing you to feel her mint scent.

"Did you know that stegosaurus's brain was the size of a walnut? They surely didn't get good grades." She said and smirked, causing you to smile sweetly at how cute she was blabbing about the things she liked.

"You told me yesterday." You leaned your head on Ellie's and, after convincing yourself it wasn't weird and that was a friends thing, you held Ellie's hand.

Both of you stood quietly there with a few cheek kisses and a prolonged hug in between until the Uber arrived around nine minutes later. The Uber was an old men, maybe in his fifty's. He confessed to don't know where your street was and put on Google maps. He was sincere, at least. It kind of reminded you to Joel, conveying a sense of trust through you.

"Are you guys girlfriends?" He asked casually.

"Oh, no no no. Of course not. We're best friends." But we should be girlfriends, though, you thought and smiled.

"Oh, sorry. You just reminded me of my daughter and her girlfriend."

You had some small talk with him while Ellie held your hand, playing with your fingers and discretely kissing really silently your ring and middle ones, a hint you would ignore completely, until you arrived home and paid a bit more than necessary because the man was really nice and it was really late.

You finally entered your house, feeling so tired that you didn't even bother to take your makeup off. You just went upstairs to your room and put on some t-shirt, an Ellie's t-shirt you ""borrowed"" from her and since you did you used every time you were home, and pajamas shorts, lending Ellie some comfortable clothes too and trying to explain her you weren't going to do ANYTHING with her now because, come on, you almost weren't conscious enough to notice how drunk you were and it should be enough for you to not try anything. But being honest, if you hadn't been tired you probably wouldn't have cared.

You fell on the bed first, moving to the wall side. You were too tired to form a coherent idea, and yet your thoughts still managed to wander around Ellie. It was always like this, but this time after the kiss it was stronger. Ellie, Ellie and Ellie.

Ellie went to the kitchen to drink some water and then headed back upstairs to your tidy room, walking towards your bed with a gait sloppier than usual. As you were almost asleep you didn't notice her getting closer to the bed, nor laying down nor climbing on top of you and kissing your now clean lips shortly, without a hint of boldness despite his dirty comments towards you during the whole night.

Her lips tasted heavenly perfect, like cocktails and vodka, the chocolate taste from earlier had disappeared almost completely from her lips. You opened your eyes, surprised, as Ellie looked at you with an equally intense and tired gaze.

"I love you." She whispered with that velvety and husky voice of hers that drove you crazy every time, her breathing got more shallow.

"I love you too but it's late, Ellie." Ellie smirked lazily and you pushed her, moving her to your side. She turned her back to you, knowing your next move. You hugged her, placing your head in the gap between her neck and her shoulder. The ends of her silky hair made your neck itch a little but you didn't mind right now. All you cared about was being close to her, sleeping with her, feeling her skin and her body merging with yours.

She let out a soft sigh, as if your mere closeness relieved her. Her hand positioned over yours, intertwining them. Both of you stood like that, silence accompanying the moment. Ellie fell asleep: you knew it because her heartbeat started slowing down as well as her breathing. You kissed her neck and closed your eyes until you lost you lost consciousness in a deep (and drunk) sleep.

11:21 am

You felt your head was going to break into a million pieces. What the fuck did you do last night? Before opening your eyes, you try to figure out where are you. You smell Ellie's perfume and a sudden sensation of relief comes to your body and leaves as fast as it came as soon as you remember the kiss.

Oh my god, what did I do? why did I even- Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Ellie moving. She stretches a little and probably remembers a bit of last night because she mutters an ‘oh fuck-’ and gets up slowly, taking your hand away from her waist and trying to not wake you up.

You barely open your eyes, enough to blurrily see what is Ellie doing but not for her to notice you're awake. She gets dressed with her clothes from last night, puts her phone in her pocket and opens the door. But no, she can't leave just like that. She then turns around and walks towards you, kneels next to your bed and watches your face for a good two minutes, now you completely close your eyes.

"I love you and I'm so sorry baby." She finally whispers. Baby? Again? Well, maybe it wasn't just the alcohol. Right? "I know you don't want this." She kisses your forehead slowly, unable to pull away from your skin and say goodbye and you feel like someone has just set a fire on your cheeks and your whole body as well as Ellie stands up again, ready to leave. She gives you a last look before closing the door behind her. Now that Ellie's gone, you're fucking mad. Not just at you, for kissing your fucking best friend and stuff, but at her for leaving like that after everything.

It would have been awkward to talk, but probably better than not saying anything and pretending she didn't even come to your house in first place. You can't help but burst into tears, getting out of bed just to hold the dinosaur stuffie Ellie gave you like two months or so ago that was resting in your desk. It had been hers before she gave it to you and it smelled like her, so everytime you missed her it rapidly became a habit that you would hug it until you fell asleep.

You go back to bed and cover yourself with the sheets, with that cute stegosaurus's teddy wrapped in your arms like it's your baby and their tail between your legs. You cry because you're scared.

Your white pillow has blue stains from your eyeshadow and your tears add some wet grey to the picture but you couldn't care less. Not now.

You lay in the side of your small bed where Ellie had been before, no sign of her warmness now, feeling her heavenly perfume impregnated in the sheets, and you inhale deeply, filling your nostrils with Ellie. Just Ellie. Just pine, mint and chocolate. Just her.

Maybe Ellie never loved you in That way? People became flirty when they were drunk. Maybe that was her case. But no, she just said she loved you and called you baby. But she did that sometimes. But maybe it didn't mean anything for her.

What was next? Should you pretend that kiss and all the stuff from last night you didn't even try to recall never happened? No, you remembered there was a literal video of you making out like your life depended on it in your gallery and probably—no, definitely, in hers too. Maybe apologize? "Hey Ellie, sorry for kissing you!" Nah, you're not even sorry.

You wanted to ask her why did she leave like that but that would be so awkward for her and for you too. You kept overthinking until you accepted you wouldn't fall asleep again so you hold your phone which is on the night table. You had some messages from Dina and when you answer, she immediately texts back.

Dina😍

(10:10 a.m.) So?

(10:10 a.m.) Any news abt you and Ellie?

(11:27 a.m.) She left without saying anything

(11:27 a.m.) I pretended I was asleep.

(11:27 a.m.) I shouldn't tell you this but fuck off

(11:27 a.m.) She thinks you'll be mad at her

(11:28 a.m.) do you think she likes me back..?

(11:28 a.m.) It's not impossible

(11:28 a.m.) Does she likes me back*?

(11:29 a.m.) Confidential.

(11.29 a.m.) Just give me a hint?

(11.29 a.m.) Ask yourself

(11.30 a.m.) You were such a good friend.

(11:30 a.m.) Right?

(11:30 a.m.) WERE.

(11:30 a.m.) Ugh fine

(11:30 a.m.) MAYBE she feels something

(11:31 a.m.) WHAT?

(11:31 a.m.) I LOVE YOU

(11:31 a.m.) DINA I LOVE YOU.

(11:32 a.m.) I'M GONNA MARRY YOU.

(11:32 a.m.) What about Ellie ☹️

(11:32 a.m.) Both.

(11.32 a.m.) Well said

(11.32 a.m.) I love you

(11.32 a.m.) Yeah love you too

Els pretty

(11.35 a.m.) Ellieeee

(11.35 a.m.) Weren't you at my house?

(11.35 a.m.) I hallucinated if not.

(11:36 a.m.) I WAS TOO EMBARRASED

(11:36 a.m.) AND I RAN AWAY

(11:36 a.m.) Sorry for kissing you and stuff

(11:36 a.m.) Awwwww

(11.36 a.m.) Fuck

(11.36 a.m.) you.

(11:36 a.m.) Whatever

(11:36 a.m.) I'll watch the video

(11:37 a.m.) NO

(11:37 a.m.) ELLIE

(11:37 a.m.) Come on it's embarrassing

(11:37 a.m.) You aren't watching it

(11:37 a.m.) Right?

(11:38 a.m.) Ellie?

(11:40 a.m.) WOAH

(11:41 a.m.) WDYM WOAH

(11:41 a.m.) I took the first step🥺

(11:41 a.m.) You're being creepy.

(11:41 a.m.) 🥺

(11:41 a.m.) Watch it

(11:43 a.m.) 🤯

(11:43 a.m.) 😎

(11:44 a.m.) 😎?

(11:44 a.m.) I'm the good one kissing here

(11:44 a.m.) Wanna find out?

(11:44 a.m.) Again?

(11:44 a.m.) Ha. Ha.

(11:44 a.m.) Not funny.

So, Ellie wasn't escaping from you because she didn't like that kiss or because she wanted to be away from you, she was just scared, as Dina said. You unconsciously stopped crying but, as your hangover wouldn't let you do much, you tried to sleep again. This time it was easier: Ellie liked that kiss. She wasn't mad. She wasn't trying to make you feel bad.

The only thing on your mind now was, she didn't mention anything about a relationship or anything serious. How would you know if she wanted something with you? How many times had you thought about it in the last few days? Would you be friends? Would you turn into something more? Okay, stop thinking about it now. Something casual? You didn't want something casual. Because not even the word is really good. Casual. Casual sex. Sounds like the name of a lipstick shade. Doesn't sound well. You want something serious. With Ellie, your girlfriend Ellie. Not casual sex like the lipstick. You don't want something casual.

You were on top of Ellie, kiss stains all over her neck. It looked so pretty in that red tone of your lipstick. Her face looked so pretty full of your signature. Her pink and pretty nipples, and her small tits were marked by you too and god, you were strapping her. Fucking strapping her. You held her hips and pushed deep inside of her, making her let out a moan. You pushed again. And again. And again. And again and again and again. Her face was so red and pretty, her mouth opened, letting out your name again and again, each time messier and faster than before, her pretty cunt taking you so well, the sight of it swallowing you would be able to make you cum. You go much faster, and you should be tired but you aren't. "So... Fucking... Ah. Close." She cums, holding your arms and digging her nails into your arms as you fuck her through her orgasm, why can't you feel her nails in your skin?

"Honey, dinner is ready!" Your mom says as she opens the door.

Nice.

Sunday, 5pm.

You were more than excited to see Ellie, more than any other time before. Maybe because this was the first time you went to her house after kissing her, confessing to her and then pretending it was just a joke?

You did the same routine as always you were gonna spend the day at her house. Took a shower, put on baggy jeans, a braless tank top and a black thong you wished, deep down, she took you off. The Victoria's Secret ones, with laces and a small bow. Like, they were the first ones that you found when opening your closet, almost like they jumped to you. Not like you had been looking for them for the past half and hour.

You kind of bathed in your perfume and put on the lipgloss from Friday. As soon as it became a good time to get going, you put on some stuff on a bag and asked your mom to take you there, something she reluctantly gave in to.

"Why you always put on that much perfume when you to Ellie's place?" She laughed.

"Only when I go to Ellie's place?"

"Whenever you're going the same place as her."

"I have no clue what you're talking about." You tried to dissuade her from her suspects.

"I'm your mother." She said, argumenting with the fact she knew you.

"I always put on perfume."

The conversation was left like that, your meddlesome mother always trying to know about your love life. Not something you complained about much, though. You understood that that was her way to show just how much she cared about you.

When you arrived, you greeted your mom with a kiss and went towards the door. You didn't even give the third knock to the door and Ellie was already opening it for you, such a gentleman.

"You're that desperate for me?" You mocked her, wishing she just said yes and kissed you.

"Shut up, I heard the car. And I'm not the one arriving..." She checked the clock she had been gifted by Joel before continuing her sentence. "Twenty-one minutes before."

"I don't like being late." You argued. And no, you didn't if you were going to see Ellie.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure."

6.30 p.m.

"Fuck!" She gasped, clamming her hands into your arm, which was now like Ellie's comfort teddy, for the sixth time or so now.

You did this on purpose. You knew how easily Ellie got scared and everytime you watched a horror movie she got closer and closer with each jumpscare until she was practically clinging onto you. More than half of the movie had passed and Ellie was holding onto your arm and her head rested in your shoulder like you were her mother. Oh, nevermind.

"You're such a baby." You laughed at her, feeling hotter than seconds ago since the pressure in your arm just reminded you of how close you were to your best friend.

"It's a horror movie!" She said, her cheeks tinted pink.

"No, it's It. This is practically a rom-com."

"You're crazy, you're never choosing again." She whined. "You always put m-" You put your hand over her mouth, willing her to stop talking while the movie was still playing on the TV. After that, she could yap for hours.

"Shut up, this is the best part." You said with your fingertips on her lips. Was she using a chapstick? You gave her a quick glance, unable to identify if there was any change in her lips colour since the lights were turned off. The dim light from the TV didn't allow you to see it, but you definitely could see Ellie's face was crimson red as her eyes shifted quickly between your eyes and your hand.

"You're kind of... red." You teased her, moving your hand to her forehead, which presented a normal temperature. She huffed sarcastically in response.

"Watch your movie." She frowned like a mad child and looked away.

"You like me, don't you?" You knew this probably wouldn't end well. Ellie couldn't promise anything to you if you didn't show her you like her and it was the same to you.

"Can you give me a drink? Like, juice?" She ignored you.

"Fine." You got up trying to push away the embarrassment you felt for yourself, your tone coming out of your mouth much colder than you pretended it to.

You went to the kitchen and looked into the fridge for the juice she asked for. She asked for apple juice because it was her favourite one but your favourite one was orange so, of course, she had some of it in the fridge, something that ocassioned a small smile to form on your lips. You picked the small apple juice box and returned to the couch.

"Here." You sat beside her and handed her the small box, and you didn't even get to lean on the back of the sofa because Ellie was already wrapping her arms around your waist, squeezing you like a dog biting a bone. Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched the movie.

"Thanks." She said as she unwrapped the straw and pushed it through the small perforated hole of the box. She took a sip before looking at you.

"Of course." You smiled, not giving it much importance. Ellie put the box in the coffee table and rested her head in your chest again. She probably could hear the earthquackes going on in your heart. You put your arms around Ellie too; your grip was lazy and relaxed, unlike hers.

A scene that would freak the hell out of Ellie appeared on the screen and it caused no reaction on her. You turned your head to Ellie just to see what's going on and caught her staring at your lips; she immediately averted her gaze to your eyes.

"What?"

"I still think about it."

"About what?" You felt your cheeks boiling and melting in your face.

"Friday."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to kiss you again."

You sighed.

"Where is this going, Ellie?"

"Where?"

"Yeah, where. In case you don't remember, you got drunk, kissed me, flirted with me all night, in the morning you ran away and acted normally as always and now you say you want to kiss me?" There you were, throwing all the truth you had been hiding to the trash.

"I'm just confused." She muttered, looking away from your eyes.

"That's the problem. I'm not and you keep playing with me." The words slipped from your mouth and you held Ellie's arms trying to get rid of her embrace but she was stronger, her gaze piercing you.

"No, no, I mean, I'm not confused, I'm just... scared of losing you. But I can't keep doing this. I like you and you keep acting like that... You're the one playing with me. Straddling me just 'so do my eyeliner better', telling me you love me, hugging me all the time and then all the jealous thing with Lucy. Do you think I didn't notice what you were doing?" All those words came out from her mouth so fast that her lungs didn't have enough air and her face turned completely red, and if she had kept talking, she would have been blue.

Did she just say she liked you..?

"Her name was La-" She liked you.

"I don't care. What the fuck are we? What do you even wanna be?" She liked you. Her worried eyes were like lasers penetrating yours, demanding an answer from you. Yours darted to her plumped lips. What would her chapstick taste like?

She. Liked. You.

Your hand went to her soft cheek and you asked her with your gaze for her permission, your breathing turning heavy. You interpreted the response in her tough gaze as a 'yes, please.'

You cupped her face and pulled her in softly, scared of breaking the delicate situation between you, of destroying what you had in one move even if you had just told all the truth to her and nothing happened.

Her lips tasted like cherry. Delicious, sweet, wet. Just as in the other night, your mouths fitted perfectly in eachother's, there was no room for something else than being closer and closer with each second that passed by. The movie was forgotten long ago as you kept her close until your lungs started asking for some air and you pulled back, gasping.

Ellie smiled, her face had a shade of pink and she looked cuter than any other thing you have ever saw.

"So, we're..." Her green eyes shined with a mix of hope and anxiety as never before as she waited for your response.

"Girlfriends?" Ellie giggled at that, scratching her left ear.

"Yeah. it's official now."

Taglist; @warmdragonfly @sleepy-sheep-things @mamixdanni @marrycv @seraphicsentences @boobdrug @lyssaspengler

[mountainsandmayhem]

Wonderful Tonight

Marcus Pike x Pregnant Female Reader - 18+

Summary: Marcus Pike takes care of his very pregnant wife, shaving her legs (and more) and then treats her like the delicious meal she is. CW: pregnancy, shaving, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (you can't get pregnant while pregnant, but all of you better be wrappin it up!), praise, pet names (baby, honey, etc.), multiple orgasms. This is fluffy romantic smut. AN: I write one piece with feelings and suddenly I'm Mrs Romance over here! I gotta say that I'm falling deeper and deeper for Mr Marcus Pike, JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! I feel like their wedding song would have been Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton, hence the title. Thank you @syd-djarin for reading this over for me. @survivingandenduring, I'll be waiting for my edits lol. Dividers by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 3.9k

A faint groan stirs Marcus awake, he takes a few seconds to fully come to, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Trying to listen for that sound again, unsure if it was a dream or not. He reaches across the plush white bedding of the king sized bed looking for you, his beautiful and very pregnant wife, only to find the bed empty. 

Usually, worry and panic would rush through him if you weren’t in bed, but you appear to be in your nesting phase and it hasn’t been unusual in these last few weeks for him to find you rearranging the nursery or ordering more things off Amazon at strange hours. You also seemed to have the strangest midnight cravings, like mayonnaise on ice cream, or there was that night he walked on you about to take a bite out of a kitchen sponge. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and stretches, looking over at his alarm clock. 2:56 am. 

The sound of you huffing and grunting floats from under the door of your ensuite bathroom. You sound like you’re struggling or in pain and adrenaline courses through Marcus as he hops up and rushes to the door. His mind racing to calculate the number of weeks pregnant you are and if it’s too soon for you to be in labour or not. 

He tries the door handle to find it locked. “Babe?” He calls, rapping his knuckle in the door gently. 

“Sorry. I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” you call back, your voice seems off like it’s laced with discomfort. It immediately sets his teeth on edge, you’re not fine, and according to his quick math you’re also at a point where you could go into labour and even though the baby would be a little early, they’d be past the danger zone and the baby would most likely be ok. 

“Please open the door. You don’t sound fine.” He says softly, pushing the panic down like the trained FBI agent he is. 

You’re quiet for a second before responding in a more stable voice, “Everything is fine. I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

“Are you sure everything is ok?” He asks one more time, he knows your stubborn tendencies and how it usually takes him to ask three or four times before you give in. 

It’s silent again behind the door. Just the sound of you huffing like you ran a marathon before a sad little ‘no’ leaves your lips. It simultaneously sends him into fix mode and breaks his heart. He hears your bare feet pad across the tile floor followed by the click of the lock. 

He cracks the door slowly to come face to face with you in just your sports bra, naked from the ribs down. Your legs are slathered in raspberry and tangerine scented shaving cream and you have a purple razor in your hand. Your cheeks are pink with frustration and the exertion of trying to bend down. Your hair’s piled on top of your head, a few loose strands falling and sticking along the nape of your neck. 

He leans his toned bicep against the doorframe, only wearing his tight black boxers, then crosses his arms and looks at you tenderly. His voice is soft and full of love as he says, “Oh, sweetie. What are you doing?” 

The tears of frustration start to pool along your lash line. “I’m gonna give birth and I can’t be a Sasquatch, but I can’t bend over without feeling like my lungs are being crushed by my giant belly.” 

Marcus cups your face, wiping away the stray tear and bringing your eyes to his. “Honey, you’re not a Sasquatch. And even if you were, they’re doctors. Come here,” his hand trails to the nape of your neck and he pulls you gently into him, wrapping both arms around you and tucking your head into his neck, “They’re not looking at your leg hair. They’re focused on you and the baby.” 

You relax into his arms, belly pressing against his abdomen comfortably. “I can’t go into labour like this,” you say, anxiety wavering in your voice. 

Marcus drops his arms from your body and slides past you, slipping his boxers down before stepping into the large, glass walled shower. He turns the nob that controls the rainfall shower head and crooks his fingers at you as a silent call to walk to him. 

When you reach him, he starts to unzip the front of your sports bra. “What are you doin’, Mr Pike?” You say softly over the soothing sounds of the shower, watching his thick fingers pull the zipper down. 

“I’m shaving Mrs Pike’s legs,” he says as you look back up at him. His chocolate brown eyes soaked you in and made you weak in the knees. 

“Marcus, you -“ he cuts you off as your sports bra hits the floor. 

“I promise to love, cherish and treasure you,” he starts, lightly pulling you into the shower. He always recites his marriage vows when he can sense you’re about to fight off his help. His way of reminding you that he wants to be there, wants to care for you. He continues his speech as he leads you to the wooden bench, “In all circumstances; good or bad. Forever. Without hesitation or keeping score. From this breath, until my last breath, you are my wife, my love, my partner, and my equal.” 

He steadies you as you sit before taking a knee in front of you and smiling up at you sweetly. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. It’s the middle of the night and this incredibly sweet man doesn’t even question or fight you. Just supports and loves you with his whole being. “I don’t deserve you.” 

“Baby, you’re growing a person for us. You deserve so much more,” he holds his palm out and you place the razor in his hand. His other hand wraps around your swollen ankle lifting it to rest your foot on his knee. Before you can say much he starts making slow, gentle strokes of the razor up your leg. 

You’re both silent for a moment, him lost in the sight of your soft skin as he shaves your leg, you lost in him and the way he’s looking at you as he drags the sharp razor so tenderly across your skin. The steam from the shower wraps around the two of you, encasing you in your own little cloud. The rest of the world and all your worries are temporarily blocked out until all your thoughts are just Marcus. Sweet, loving, emotionally available, Marcus Pike. 

He reaches for the detachable shower head and drizzles warm water down your shin and calf, using his free hand to rinse away the excess shaving cream. You go to move your leg away but he grabs your ankle to keep you there. After switching off the water he puts it back and looks up at you, placing a light and lingering kiss on the inside of your knee before placing your foot back on the warm tile floor and grabbing the other ankle. 

The shaving cream has washed away from the steam and backsplash from the rainfall behind Marcus, so he grabs the bar of soap and lathers up your leg. You watch again as he focuses all his attention on carefully shaving your other leg. Using the same little strokes, rinsing the razor more often than you would if you were doing it yourself. 

After rinsing off the excess soap he glances up at you. “Better?” He asks soothingly. 

“Ya,” you say, trying to convince him that your legs were your only worry, but he knows you better than that. He knows that when you flick your eyes away from his and your spine just slightly stiffens you want to ask something but are afraid or nervous to. 

“Honey, what else do you need?” His hand kneads the swollen and sore muscles of the calf that’s still propped on his knee. 

“Well…” you trail off as you start to blush. 

“Mrs Pike. Are you going to ask me to shave your pussy?” He says with a devious little grin. Eyes lighting up like a horny teenager, placing your foot on the floor. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say quickly. “I’m just worried that -“

He lightly covers your lips with his palm and Reminds himself to stay calm. he’s thought about how sensual it would be to shave your most delicious areas, but he knows you have some insecurities about body hair, and he didn’t want you to think you had to be clean shaven for him to find you sexy. Because truthfully, you could be a Sasquatch and he’d still want you. “Oh no, baby. I want to. I really REALLY want to.” 

You lightly kiss the inside of his palm as he smiles hungrily at you. Just as your insecurities start to cloud your thoughts Marcus places his hands on your belly and rubs gently. “For the record, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, clean shaven or not. I love the taste of your pussy when it’s like this, it’s sweeter and feels soft against my skin. Plus, I love the way you cry out when I tug on it. So don’t think for a second that my excitement over getting to shave her means I prefer it that way. I don’t. Ok?” 

You crash your lips into his, tangling your fingers through the slightly outgrown hair at the nape of his neck. He tastes like toothpaste still from before he went to bed as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, his soft wet tongue swiping against yours. The two of you stay like that for a while. Lazily making out in the middle of the night in the shower. His hands trail from your belly to your back, gently massaging the muscles of your lower back and then your hips. 

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you catch your breath. “I’m going to get a new razor and your special shaving cream. Ok?” 

You nod against him. “Are you ok on the bench, honey? Do you need a towel to sit on?” 

“No, I’m ok. We can move if the ground is uncomfortable, Marcus.” He’s always beating you to ensure the other is comfortable. 

“Be right back,” he winks. You watch him walk out of the shower to the vanity. The water droplets on his back run down the toned and slender muscles that line his back, they catch in the curve of his ass before running down his tight cheeks. You find yourself squeezing your knees together at the sight of your naked husband. He truly is so beautiful, inside and out. 

He slips back into the shower and kneels before you, sitting back on his heels. “Slide to the edge, baby.” His hands come to your hips, guiding you forward. He licks his lips and looks up at you through his thick lashes, big brown eyes dancing softly around your face. “Spread your legs for me.” 

Normally, saying something like that would sound dirty, or like a command, but it floats gently over the splash of the shower. Soft, caring, and so sweet that you melt back onto your hands, parting your knees wide for your husband. His eyes glaze over slightly as his lips part, your glistening soft folds on display for him. He blinks a few times and takes a slow breath, reaching for the shower head again, cupping the water in his hand and drizzling it along your pussy. The breath catches in your throat, something about this feels incredibly sensual, and it doesn’t help that Marcus is looking down at your pussy like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Is the water ok? Not too hot?” He asks. 

How did you get so lucky, but more so, how did anyone divorce this man in the past? 

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” your voice waves, it’s breathy and full of arousal. He blinks up at you and smirks. He knows this is turning you on, and he plans to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as possible. 

He applies the cream and grabs the razor, popping off the flimsy plastic guard before getting to work. His hand rests above your mound, pulling back gently to make the skin taut. He uses little strokes, rinsing the blade between each swipe of the razor. You close your eyes and let your head fall back as he continues. Once he’s removed all the hair from the top, he rests his hand on the now smooth skin just above your clit and gently pulls back. A soft whimper passes your lips, he’s so close to your most sensitive spots. But he said he’d help you shave, so he continues, swiping the razor in the same short strokes down one lip, and then the other. By the time he’s done, your breathing is rapid and shallow. 

“You doing okay up there, baby?” He asks, placing the razor on the bench beside you. 

You moan a soft ‘mmmmm-hmm’ as he reaches for the detachable shower head. You open your eyes, watching as he tests the water on his hand and wrist before holding the stream over your pussy. You gasp at the feeling of the warm water pressure flowing over your now swollen clit. Marcus smiles up at you, the dimple on his cheek forming and setting you on fire. He clicks the button on the side of the shower head, increasing the water pressure and holding it closer to your core. 

“Marcus,” you whimper, leaning back further. Gravity lolling your head backwards. 

“That’s it. Just relax, honey.” He says in a hushed voice, his free hand gripping and massaging the soft skin of your inner thigh higher and higher until he’s at the top. His thick middle and ring fingers coming to tease around your entrance. 

“Oh god. Please, Marcus.” You say through bated breath. Your swollen breasts and belly rise and fall with your pleas. 

He dips the tips of his fingers inside you, feeling your walls pulse and flutter. Taking his time to slowly fuck his fingers into you, inch by inch. Slowly. Lovingly. All while watching how you react. Watching the way your mouth falls open, eyebrows raising slightly, lips going soft as you moan his name. 

Once his fingers are all the way, he curls them forward just as he clicks the button on the shower head, increasing the water pressure to its highest setting. You let out a long, husky wanton moan that echoes off the black tiled walls. “Cum for me, baby.” 

Your legs start to shake, as your body almost launches you towards your release. Every muscle seems to go slack and it waves through you, pleasure reverberating from your aching clit, spreading to every cell in your body. 

“Marcus. Oh fuck. Don’t stop, Pike. Please.”

You feel lighter, even as your heavy belly bounces as you grind shamelessly into Marcus’s palm and the spray of the shower head. He feels the grip of your slick walled pussy start to relax as you crest over the edge of your orgasm and start to come down. He pulls the stream of water away from your clit, the warmth of his large hand cupping you, his two thick fingers still working you slowly to the bottom of your high. 

“You’re such a goddess, baby.” He says proudly. The praise wraps around you like a warm blanket as he slides his fingers from you carefully. “I wanna take you to bed and watch you do that again.”

You find the strength to arch your neck forward and look at him. You smile sleepily and nod, allowing your beautiful husband to take your hand, shut off the water, and lead you to bed. Before helping you climb in, he moves his hands to cup your face, placing his lips against yours. His chest rumbles with a content sigh as your tongue swipes hungrily along his soft bottom lip. One of your hands scoops under your belly, lifting it to relieve the pressure on your lower back, the other reaches for his hard cock. You grip around the base gently and stroke him slowly, matching the energy of the kiss. 

“Mmmm, I like that baby,” he says between kisses, “But I’m not done with you yet. Let’s get you into bed.” 

You climb in as gracefully as possible, praying silently that you don’t look like those sea lions that you watched on your honeymoon in Alaska a few years ago. You lay down on your back as Marcus climbs on top of you best he can, stretching to keep kissing you, doing his best not to put any of his weight on your bump. This position immediately puts pressure on your body, making you feel short of breath. 

Your hands push at Marcus and you sit up slightly, seemingly fighting for breath. “Ugh,” you groan frustratedly, “I can’t breathe like that. I’m sorry. This is so unsexy.” 

“Unsexy? I’m rock hard for you,” he says, looking down and then back at you with a smile. “You lay how it’s comfortable, how about that?” 

“Pike, I’m only comfortable on my side with that crazy pillow under my leg.” You say, defeated and anxious. “I need you though.”

He thinks for a second, chewing his cheek as he surveys the pillows available. “Ok, what if you lay on your side, bottom leg straight, top leg hooked up and resting on the pillow?” 

You smile at him lovingly, “Is that really gonna be sexy?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more turned on by anyone in my entire life. You’re glowing. I’m amazed by you every day.” He fluffs the pillows around you as you turn away from him, bending your leg up as high as your belly allows. “Is that comfy, baby?” 

His fingers trace up and down your spine slowly as your body starts to sink and relax into the soft mattress. “Yes,” you whisper. 

His lips come to your neck, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, down your neck and then along the top of your shoulder, fingertips swirling along your back and ass cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning at his sweet caresses. His lips continue to kiss your skin and down your back, as he spins his body so his feet are at the head of the bed. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says into your skin between kisses. “So strong. So selfless. I love you so much, Mrs Pike.” 

Your whole body seems to tingle with anticipation of where he’s going to kiss next, you feel his hair tickle the inside of your top leg as he maneuvers his head between your thighs. You lift your leg higher, desperate to feel his mouth on your already sensitive pussy.

“Please, baby,” you gasp, arching your back slightly. “I need you to…” 

His warm soft tongue licks a slow and teasing stripe from your asshole to your clit. A tortured moan leaves your lips, hips bucking into his face. Marcus lets out a silent laugh at your reaction. He’s always loved how your body responds to him. The very first time he made you cum, both of you still fully dressed as you made out, hips grinding into his as you shook, he knew that he wanted to see that for the rest of his life. 

“Good girl, let me taste it.” He laps at you again, still just as slowly but with more pressure. Asshole, to entrance, to clit. Once. Twice. The third time his thumb comes to press into your now dripping pussy, tongue flicking around your nub slowly and with perfect pressure. 

“You taste so good,” he moans between licks. “Such a good girl for me. You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Yesss. Don’t stop, Pike.” He doesn’t stop, he never stops. Not until you’re either begging him to or you’re pushing him away. 

“Never, honey,” he mumbles into your wet folds, and that’s when the tight elastic behind your mound snaps, and you cum hard and loud. Your inner walls grip his thumb tightly, pulling it deeper. 

“M-Marcus…hnnggg…oh my god. Yes.” You’re lost in the euphoria. Every ache and pain from your pregnancy is temporarily erased and replaced with nothing but pleasure. Sparkling, warm pleasure.

It slowly starts to become too much, slipping into overstimulation. “Marcus. Stop, baby.” He’s always in tune with your body, his thumb already starting to slide out, tongue replaced with light kisses. 

You whine as he pulls away, already missing him and the intimacy. “Please fuck me,” you say over your shoulder, his blown out coffee coloured eyes almost black. He slips his body alongside yours, the arm closest to the mattress slipping under your head. He grips his dick with his other hand, pumping it while running it up and down your slit, collecting your arousal. 

“Ready, baby?” Marcus asks, kissing the top of your shoulder. 

“Just fuck me already!” 

If you weren’t pregnant he’d flip you onto your belly and drive into you, probably pull your hair and tell you to cut the attitude. But he knows he has to be gentler right now, so he slowly pushes the thick head of his cock into you. Inching in slowly, almost punishingly. “Don’t be a brat, baby. You know we have to be softer right now.” 

You wiggle your ass back, trying to get more. You need all of him. When he’s finally seated all the way inside of you he holds still, sucking on your neck. “Be good, or I’ll just stay like this all night.” 

“No, please, baby. Please move.” Your belly makes forward movement impossible so you’re just pinned between your bump and Marcus. “Pike, please.” 

He quickly pulls back to the tip and then slides back in. You cry out into his bicep. “Again. Please. Again.” 

“Fuck, I love it when you beg,” he whispers, fucking in and out of you a few more times. It’s deep and slow, always with a little extra punch of his hips at the very end. “Sound so pretty when you moan for me.” 

You reach down to rub your clit, him encouraging you with his words. “That’s a good girl. Touch yourself for me.” 

It doesn’t take long before you’re both on the edge, ready to tumble over together. To get lost in each other's pleasure. He moans deeply in your ear, whispering praises as you cum on his cock, holding off as long as he can before you feel his warm spend fill you. You’ve completely melted for him, unable to move or keep your eyes open. You both lay quiet, his softening cock still buried inside you, breathing heavily together. You both drift off, spent and happy and so unbelievably in love that it’s hard to believe something like this can exist. 

Marcus wakes up a few hours later still inside you. He slowly slips himself out, peels his body away from yours and tucks the blankets around you. He leaves you a little handwritten note that he’s going to get French toast and bacon from your favourite place. 

Ya, it’s definitely hard to believe that a love like this is yours. 

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag

@pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes

@jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

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[satorisoup]

ᰔ A KISS FOR A KISS ft. kenma kozume

ʚ CW : first kisses. sfw.

ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ

it’s valentine’s day, a holiday for the celebration of love, and today your boyfriend only had one thing in mind.

he was going to kiss you.

it has been almost 8 months since you and kenma kozume had become official, and you still have yet to get to first base. kenma curses himself for the awkward timid personality he was given since birth, as it really would not come in handy when it came to the physical part of a relationship.

kenma never would have thought he would be the one wanting to initiate a kiss with you, but at this point, he really couldn’t help it. every time your hands would come to stroke his hair with that sweet, small smile on your face, or the hugs you would envelope him in whenever you had him in your sight, even the nervous blush on your cheeks when you would lace your fingers with his, all of it had him in a battle with his own desires, to just lean in and leave a little peck on the soft lips that adorned your lovely face. but no, it never seemed like the right time, or the right place, it just didn’t feel in character for him to do that out of the blue.

today, this changes. february 14th, kenma was going to kiss you before the sun set to bring another day. and he swore, he would die before he allowed himself to wimp out again. there’s no room for shyness.

the first half of school had rolled around, and kenma had surprisingly held your hand in the halls, which was more-so unlike him given how usually uncomfortable he is with pda. you shook it off though, given it was an important holiday for you two, and perhaps he just wanted to make it all the more special, to which you were extremely grateful.

no, this wouldn’t be the time to kiss you. it was too early in the day. he should wait until it’s less crowded and he’s more prepared.

kenma waved at you when you had walked into your class, a soft mumble of “see you at lunch.” you smile and hold a thumbs up before you make your way to your seat, kenma walking off to his own classroom.

eventually lunchtime had come, and you both sat in a nice corner of the courtyard, pretty pink lunchbox with yummy foods sprawled out in front of you. you gingerly chewed on the small heart shaped sandwiches you had packed, and kenma ate along with you, hardly audible hums in appreciation while munched on one himself.

“do you like it, kenma? the heart cutters made them so much cuter!”

he nodded his head while he shortly answered, “yeah, they’re good.”.

well, he couldn’t kiss you now. you were both eating lunch, and that would be kind of gross for you to get the taste of mayonnaise after a kiss.

kenma’s procrastination eventually led to the school day ending, and he wants to punch himself in the gut for not taking the opportunities he had, wussing out for who knows how many times. you meet up with kenma by the school gates, voice cheery as you tell him how excited you were to spend time with him. you’re smiling, and kenma has the slightest hint of pink on the tips of his ears as he listens to you talk. though, he isn’t particularly paying attention to what your saying, but rather staring at your lips as if they’re holding the universe themselves.

there’s a brisk, cold breeze but the sun is shining like no other today. the walk along the path to kenma’s home is lit with golden yellow hues that beat down from the sky as the sun begins to slowly decend from the horizon. beams of light frame your face, voice blurred from his pure focus and kenma thinks that he might be living in a movie while he watches you, then your lips, you, and your lips again.

would now be a good time? there’s no one around. would you say yes? maybe you would run away. what if you got freaked out? how should he say it? should he just go all in and skip the romantics? no, it needs to be special. maybe he should wait-

no. he’s put this off for far too long. 8 months too long. and as his teammates would say, no matter how much he despised the word in its entirety, he needed to use some guts.

kenma starts to gather every ounce of backbone he possibly could have in his body, he had to do it now and there was no wimping out this time. he had a mission, and he was determined to actually accomplish it. he’s prepared enough, he thinks, when he turns to you to speak up for once in his quiet life.

“can i-“

“kenma, would you like some candy?”

he was hushed before he could get a full syllable out, putting a pause on his impulses to bob his head yes.

kenma observes you while you’re rummaging through your schoolbag, reaching in to a small pocket before pulling out a piece of hershey’s cherry kiss chocolate. your hand stretches out towards his opened one, and before you drop it into his awaiting palm, you pull back.

“well, you can have this candy, but on one condition… im offering you a trade!” you announce.

“uh… what is it?” kenma asks you, voice low and tone a hint of confusion.

your hand unravels once again to reveal the small chocolate kiss in the crevices of your hand, making a show of the small treat.

“a kiss…” you pause, and kenma can feel the anticipation build up within him while he waits for you to finish your offer.

“for a kiss.” you point at your lips with your index finger.

kenma can feel his insides combust into a million pieces, his calm, collected demeanor is slightly faltered with the way his eyes widen, dumbfounded while his heart beat quickens to a rapid pace.

he looks at you in silence, admiring the red blush on your face that’s so obvious, you could camouflage with a garden of tomatoes. you’re nervous, and even so, you’re smiling at him with that same precious grin, and the same pretty, pink lips that have practically screaming “kiss me!” in his ears all day.

“okay.”

before you’re able to register kenma’s compliance to your trade, he’s unable to keep himself back anymore. his hand awkwardly grabs hold of your wrist, candy dropped to the floor when he collides his lips with yours. they’re soft and cherried in flavor, he deems, reveling in the feeling he’s been waiting to experience for what seems like forever. he holds the small kiss for a few seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away. gone were the previous cowardly attempts and failed opportunities, because kenma finally finds the guts this time to ask,

“can i have another?”

and kenma knows, kuroo was never going to let him live this down.

[static-radio-ao3]

hit me with your best shot

romance writer regulus & hitman james - 4.4k, referenced sexual content + deeply unserious but hopefully fun!

for @arsonfaerie <3 happy birthday, maggie!

Regulus Black loves romance. He loves reading it and he loves writing it and he would probably love experiencing it too. Unfortunately, that last one hasn't happened yet, but for now he's happy just imagining.

He likes the escape romance books provide. To retreat, even for a few hours, somewhere warm and safe. To provide that for other people.

Except, some people don't seem to appreciate his approach. He scrolls through Goodreads reviews with mounting horror and a sinking feeling. Dorcas, his literary agent, always tells him to pay it no mind, but Regulus can't help it. He minds a great deal.

He taps on a one-star review. Most reviews rate the book quite high, but the low ratings still sting.

"Stop that," Barty says, waving a fry in front of Regulus' face to get his attention.

"Stop what," Regulus replies flatly, eyes trained on the words unrealistic and unimaginative. A reviewer by the name of magswrite claims that "Regulus Black wouldn't know romance if it hit him in the face. And at this point, I think it should hit him in the face for the great disservice he does to the genre at large."

There's more, but before Regulus has the chance to read it and weep, Barty snatches his phone out of his hands. "Enough," he says, leaving no room for argument.

"Give it back." Regulus swipes for his phone but Barty manages to hold it out of reach, dropping it next to him on the red vinyl booth.

"Not until you get a fucking grip."

"They say I don't know a thing about romance," Regulus whines petulantly. He slumps in his seat and snatches a fry from Barty's plate, munching on it with a pout. "Just because I'm not the most experienced, doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about."

He grabs another fry, somewhat aggressive dipping it in the mayonnaise. He bites it in half and hovers the fry over the sauce again. "Can I double dip?" he asks.

Barty shoots him a dry look. "Regulus, I've licked your asshole. Yes, you can double dip in the fucking mayonnaise."

"So crass," Regulus sighs as he covers the rest of the fry in mayonnaise.

Regulus has never dated, but he's not completely inexperienced. Barty was happy to be his first and second and third and, well, they kind of lost count at some point. But they decided early on it wouldn't be more. Couldn't be more.

That's fine with Regulus. He's never been particularly interested in dating. That's not to say he's not interested in a relationship, but it's just that the prerequisite steps to get into one never quite worked out for him.

People don't like Regulus. He's too uptight, too closed off, and too hard to read. Never mind the fact that he writes books for a living.

Regulus is somewhat of a fortress. Except, there are no walls to be scaled or broken down. The only way to get inside, to get to know Regulus, is to be patient enough to be handed a key.

Only a few people have one of those keys. Barty, for one. Dorcas, his literary agent and friend, has another. His brother had one, but he left. Took the key with him. Regulus went to great lengths to change the locks.

"Hey." Barty nudges his foot under the table. He studies Regulus for a moment, always a little too observant for his own good. As if reading his mind, he says, "Maybe it's worth another try. Just put yourself out there, you'd be surprised what you'll find."

LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO TAKE ME OUT

>> jfp_: Hey, I saw you’re looking for someone to take you out?

>> jfp_: I’m James, by the way.

>> rab_: Hi James! Yes! I just think it would be good for me…

>> jfp_: How do you want to go?

>>rab_: Do you mean where?

>>jfp_: Sure, that too.

>>rab_: I think dinner seems like a good place to start.

>>rab_: But if we want to be a little adventurous, I’ve always wanted to go skydiving…

>> jfp_: I can work with that. Friday, 7PM?

>>rab_: It’s a date!

He'd called Barty in a panic because what does one wear to a first date?

Sure, Regulus has written plenty of dates but he's never thought about what his characters are wearing. Which features they want to accentuate or hide. Which colors match their eyes and which ones wash them out.

Hess on his third outfit of the day and poses awkwardly in front of Barty, who simply shakes his head and sends him back to his closet to change.

"And where did you say you found this guy?" Barty asks as he sucks noisily on a lollipop.

"I didn't say.” Regulus’ voice is muffled as he rummages through his closet. He has an emerald green silk button-down, but he's worried that might be a bit much for a first date. He pops his head out to tell Barty, “Craigslist."

Barty's head whips towards Regulus so fast he worries he pulled something in his neck. "I'm sorry, what?" Barty manages, voice strained.

"I put up an ad on Craigslist."

"Why on God's green earth would you look for a date on Craigslist?"

"Why are you saying it like that?"

"Because it's Craigslist! Oh my God.” Barty squeezes his eyes shut like he's suddenly plagued with torturous visions. “He's probably a pervert. Or a serial killer."

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?"

"Use a dating app! Ask your friends to set you up! Go to a Barnes & Noble and look confused in the History section! Ask the barista out! Literally anything but putting up an ad on Craigslist!"

Regulus genuinely doesn't know how none of these things occurred to him. He's a romance writer, he can write a meet-cute in his sleep.

He's aware of the existence of dating apps, he's aware of the fact that his barista always doodles a little heart next to his name when he orders a drink to go, and he's probably not even above looking confused in a bookstore in the hopes that someone will approach him.

But still, knowing things in theory and doing them in practice are wildly different. It's the main reason he's even going on a date in the first place.

"How was I supposed to know?" He cries out, head in his hands.

"Common sense!”

Regulus whirls toward Barty, pointing an accusatory finger in his face. "Don't talk to me about common sense, Mr. Public Indecency Charges!"

"Those are actually more common than you'd think."

"Barty! What do I do?"

Barty heaves a deep, long-suffering sigh and pushes himself out of Regulus' desk chair. He takes a few steps towards Regulus, who thinks he might get an encouraging speech, something touching and inspiring and world changing.

But it's Barty, so he says, "Bring pepperspray," as he flops down on Regulus' bed. Regulus wrinkles his nose.

"Get off my bed. You're in your outside clothes."

"Why does that matter? It's not like you minded when Rosie and I fucked on your bed."

"You did what?” Regulus asks, incredulous. “When? Why? Is this some sort of psycho-sexual thing?"

"No, of course not,” Barty says like it's obvious, which it isn't. “It was just for Rosie's back. The couch was giving him trouble."

Every sentence out of Barty's mouth is worse than the last. Regulus pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You and Evan fucked on the couch? Wait, more importantly, did you wash the sheets after?"

"Of course not, it'd be weird to do laundry at someone else's place."

And maybe calling Barty for help wasn't such a bad idea after all. This date no longer feels like the worst thing that could possibly happen to him.

Really, how bad could it be?

Regulus is chronically early. He'll show up anywhere with several minutes to spare, usually the first person to arrive. So when he spots James Potter across the room as soon as he enters the restaurant, a pleasant little thrill runs through him.

He makes his way to the table, tucked away in the corner, a little secluded and offering the illusion of privacy in the bustling restaurant.

“You must be Regulus,” the man says when Regulus stops in front of his table. Their table. His voice is pleasant. Low and smooth.

"You're... handsome," Regulus says. Not at all the first thing one should say to a perfect stranger on a date, but well, James is handsome.

He has the messiest head of hair Regulus has ever seen, but it doesn't make him look disheveled. Instead, he looks charming and inviting.

His glasses would make anyone else look severe, but on James, they just draw attention to his beautiful eyes. Dark and deep.

When he stands to greet Regulus, Regulus notices that he’s wearing a black turtleneck tucked in smart black trousers and shiny black loafers.

"Why do you sound surprised?" He asks, head tilted to the side as he sizes Regulus up. He fidgets under James' gaze, hoping that nervous sweats won't show through the green silk shirt he's wearing.

"My friend thought you'd be a pervert. Or a serial killer,” Regulus offers with a shrug. The comment makes the corner of James' mouth quirk up in a not-quite-smile.

James has a nice mouth, Regulus decides. In the back of his mind, he runs through descriptions he might use in his books. Like he's on the verge of telling a joke, already enjoying the laughter he'll incite. Like he's got a secret tucked away and is just about to confide you in.

"Oh, I'd never be a serial killer,” James jokes as he pulls out Regulus' chair for him. “I'm a hitman."

It startles a laugh out of Regulus. He covers his mouth with his hand, as if to keep the sound from escaping but it spills out anyway. James smiles a milimeter wider at the sound, and it feels like a personal victory to Regulus.

He drops down into his chair and glances at James when he moves to sit again. At the way his trousers tighten around his thighs with the movement.

"Mh, a much more honorable profession,” he replies, eyes shifting back up to James' face.

James winks at him. "My thoughts exactly.”

“I wanted to say thank you,” Regulus starts. He shifts in his seat, suddenly nervous. “I know it was rather… unconventional to post an ad like that on Craigslist. I honestly don't know what I was thinking, I just kind of panicked.”

James waves his hand, as if physically batting the comment away.

“Don’t even worry about it. Stranger things have happened. I've actually never taken anyone out like this before.”

The statement makes something flutter in Regulus' stomach. For a moment he thinks it's hunger, but then he realizes it's the ripple of butterfly wings.

“Oh?” He asks, trying for casual. He's not sure he succeeds.

“Yeah, it's usually not as fancy. Less pomp, you know?”

“Well, I feel honored.” And he does. A flush crawls up his throat and settles on his cheeks. He hopes James can't see it in the low light of the restaurant, but Regulus suspects that James is a very observant person.

They order and chat and drink and Regulus, to his own surprise, is having a great time. James makes him laugh and asks questions, but also doesn't push.

When the food arrives, Regulus takes a quick second to send a text in the group chat he has with his friends.

>> reg: So far, so good! Very handsome and NOT a serial killer👍

He sees that a few of them read the message right away and the three dots that pop up indicate that someone is typing, but he tucks his phone away again before he can see who or what, attention on James again.

He smiles as he looks at the food, but the white powder sprinkled on top makes him frown.

He glances at James, who looks at him expectantly, as if eager to see Regulus take that first bite. He must really love the food here, Regulus thinks.

With another quick smile at James, he turns in his seat so he can flag down a waiter. “Hi, I'm so sorry but this seems to have… parmesan on it? I'm lactose intolerant…”

“Oh, I see! Terribly sorry about that, sir. I'll get you a new one right away.”

“Whew,” he tells James, “crisis averted.”

James hums, but he seems a little confused.

“I'm lactose intolerant,” Regulus clarifies. “It's very not-sexy so I won't go into detail, but nothing good happens when I eat cheese and such.”

“Ah,” James says.

“Please eat!” Regulus says with a gesture towards James' own plate. “I wouldn't want your food to get cold.”

“Nonsense, I'll wait.” And the simple gesture makes butterfly wings flutter even quicker. He takes a sip of wine in an attempt to drown them.

The rest of the meal passes smoothly, no more food-related incidents. Regulus keeps a a watchful eye on all the food he eats, not wanting to have to cut the date short because of a stomach emergency.

James insists on dessert, so they split a lemon sherbet between them, one of the few lactose-free options on the menu. James seems vaguely disappointed that they don't get the tiramisu, but the sherbet is so good, Regulus doubts James minds for long.

“I have a surprise,” James says once they've paid.

Regulus wasn't sure what the proper first-date-bill-etiquette was, but before he could worry about it, James had slipped the waiter his card and took care of it.

The butterflies returned with a vengeance.

“Oh?” Regulus asks, interested piqued. “Do tell.”

James' laugh is warm and easy. “Well it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?” The flickering lamp on the parking lot casts James in a warm yellow glow, accentuating his nose and his jaw. He looks like an angel in disguise.

James drives them to the city center, he'd even opened the car door for Regulus. He thought that was just a romance trope, not an actual thing people did. He's pleased to be proven wrong.

He watches the city lights flash by as they get closer to their destination. Their destination that is still a mystery to Regulus, by the way. He recognizes some places they pass but James' doesn't slow. Not until they're at the big, blocky building that has an arcade, a cinema, a laser tag arena, and an adventure park, whatever that is.

“Couldn't take you skydiving at 10 p.m.,” James starts as he helps Regulus out of the car, “but I figured ziplining might also do the trick.”

Regulus gasps, touched.

Apparently, you can zipline off the roof of this particular building and land on the next one where they have a beautiful rooftop bar.

The two of them pay for the harness and the gear, listen carefully to the instructions provided by the slightly bored attendant. Her blonde hair is choppily cut, the edges dyed pink as if she did it over her own bathroom sink.

James and Regulus take turns helping the other suit up. James' hands are warm and big, holding onto Regulus' waist to stabilize him as he steps into the harness. James fiddles with the back clasps for a second before declaring that Regulus is all set.

Regulus then does the same for James, securing the clasps and making sure all the straps are pulled taut and tight. And maybe he steals a look or two at James' ass, but the harness does wonderful things for him and Regulus is a simple man.

They talk easily as they wait for their turn, the to girls in front of them jittery and nervous. It occurs to Regulus that he should probably also feel jittery and nervous right now, but James makes him feel so at ease.

He's about to tell James as much when the attendant calls out, “WAIT!”

The urgency in her voice startles Regulus away from the ledge. She hurries over, tugging on her lip piercing in a worried fashion as she unclips Regulus' harness. “Oh my God,” she breathes. “The wire is fraying!”

“What does that mean?” Regulus asks, eyebrows pinching together in concern.

“That means this thing could've ended really badly, holy shit. I'm so glad I caught it. I'm sorry sir, I have no idea how this harness made it through our inspection. I assure you that we prioritize out clientele’s safety above all else. If you want to cancel your reservation for tonight, I absolutely understand. You'll get a refund of course—”

“Oh, well, I don't think that'll be necessary! Maybe we can still do the zipline. That is, if you still want to?” He turns to face James, directing his question at him.

James has his arms crossed in front of his chest, an impressive frown on his face as he looks at the faulty harness.

Regulus steps in closer to him, lowering his voice. “Hey, it's not your fault. She caught it in time and I'm completely fine. I'd still really like to do this, but if you're uncomfortable…”

James snaps out of his annoyance when Regulus touches his hand to James' chest. “No, let's do it,” he says, that easy smile returning. As long as James is with him, Regulus thinks he's as safe as can be.

The zipline is exhilarating. A thrill shoots through Regulus as he flies through the night sky, city lights blurring around him in a neon dream. James is flying next to him, arms stretched wide.

Regulus copies him and for a brief moments their fingertips touch, sending a fresh thrill down Regulus’ spine.

They land on the rooftop bar windswept and energized, a restless hum under his skin. He understands thrill-seekers now. That rush of adrenaline is unlike anything he's felt before. Although he wonders if the feeling is caused by the zipline or by James.

And he understand, now, what that reviewer meant about Regulus not knowing romance. He never knew it could feel like this. So thrilling and exhilarating yet comfortable and safe. James awakens in him emotions he didn't think he had and he is suddenly grateful to Goodreads reviewer magswrite for forcing him out of his books and into the real world.

He giggles helplessly into James' shoulder, the turtleneck soft under his cheek and the scent of fresh laundry filling his nostrils.

“That was…” but he doesn't finish his sentence, simply gazes up at James. He leans in, just the slightest bit, breath coming a little quicker. His eyes flutter shut and he hears the way James’ breath stutters.

Before their lips can connect, James jerks away. “Sorry!” He says loudly, not quite a yell but a near thing.

Regulus tries to ignore the sting. It's not weird to not kiss on the first date, he reasons. Maybe James needs more time.

Regulus takes a step back, removing himself from James' personal space. He tries to muster a reassuring smile, but it feels watery and thin, like he could burst into tears at any moment.

It's fine, he tells himself. Don't be a baby.

He feels a little unsteady now that he has removed himself from James' orbit and he mutters an excuse about needing to use the bathroom.

He calls Barty, who picks up on the second ring. “What?” He asks, breathless.

“Barty? Why are you out of breath?”

“Busy,” is all he says in return.

“Yeah, sorry, I… My date is going well but I tried to kiss him and he—”

A loud moan cuts him off mid-sentence.

“Are you having sex right now?” Regulus cries out. He ignores the pointed cough coming from one of the stalls.

Barty grunts in affirmation.

“Oh my God!” Regulus closes his eyes and is met with the mental image of Barty and Evan. He immediately opens them again. “Why did you pick up?”

“Case of emergency.”

Regulus can’t even find it in himself to feel touched at the sentiment. While it is kind of sweet, it is also deeply unhelpful right now. “I swear to all that is holy, if you are in my bed…”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Barty pants as if a few hours ago he didn't admit to having done that exact thing.

Regulus doesn't bother with a response. He simply hangs up the phone and shoves it into his pocket with perhaps a bit more gusto than strictly necessary.

He glances at himself in the mirror, taking a quick second to fix his hair. The windswept and messy look works for James, but Regulus feels like it makes him look more boyish and disorganized than charming and ruffled.

He makes his way back to James, who has managed to secure them a table on the edge of the crowd. It’s nice, being a little secluded from the rest. This way they can talk properly, something that Regulus usually dreads about dates but actually really liked when it comes to James.

“You strike me as an Old Fashioned guy,” James says when Regulus is in earshot. He gestures at the drink on the table. He's holding a drink of his own, a Martini.

“Very James Bond of you,” he remarks. James lifts his glass in salute. “And you're not wrong, I am an Old Fashioned guy." Regulus shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a sudden spike of nerves in his gut. "But I think I've had enough excitement for tonight… I should probably stick with water.”

On the one hand, Regulus really does think he’s had enough excitement for the time being, a faint buzz under his skin still from the zipline and from the almost-kiss. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to risk crossing the line between pleasantly tipsy and embarrassingly tipsy. He doesn’t think he can bear making a fool of himself in front of James. Again.

His lips tingle with the phantom feeling of James’ on them.

Regulus winces at the open disappointment on James' face. It kind of feels like a capital crime to upset James, his eyes wide and earnest behind his glasses.

“I'm sorry—” Regulus starts, but James interrupts him with a bright, “Don't be!”

Relief courses through Regulus’ veins, reassured by James’ smile. With a warm hand at the small of his back, they make their way towards the bar, where Regulus orders some water. The bartender looks a little confused to see James back again so soon, but hands Regulus his water before hurrying off to the other side to the bar and serve the people there.

They linger at the bar, not in any rush to get back to their table, to separate. Regulus leans in close so he can talk to James without having to shout over the music that’s playing.

“Have you been here before?” He asks. He tries not to inhale James’ laundry-clean scent, worried it’ll completely shatter his inhibitions. He feels more drunk off of James’ presence than he could from any drink.

James tilts his head to speak directly into Regulus’ ear. Regulus shivers when James’ lips brush against his skin. “No, this was a first. I don’t like going places with familiar people. It makes this whole thing more complicated.”

“That’s fair,” Regulus acquiesces. He can’t imagine being on a date and running into people he knows. He figures it worsens the inherent awkwardness of a first date.

He's glad he didn't have to share James with anyone else just yet, happy to remain in their bubble a while longer.

They pass time at the bar, venturing back to their table eventually to enjoy the view. It really is rather beautiful, but Regulus finds that his eyes wander to James more often than not. To the way his hair falls over his forehead and the way his muscles strain in his shirt and the way his Adam’s apple shifts when he takes a sip of his Martini.

No amount of water can drown the butterflies that flutter wildly in his stomach.

James offers to drive Regulus home. The car ride is nice, spent talking idly as music spills from the radio. When they arrive at Regulus’ apartment building, James hesitates.

“I'm sorry tonight was a bit of a bust,” he says eventually.

Regulus isn’t sure what James means. Yeah, maybe the cheese on his pasta was a bit of a bummer and the fact that he nearly went on the zipline with a faulty harness and then there was also the double rejection of James not wanting a kiss and Regulus not wanting a drink, but if he overlooks all those things, the date was… Pretty perfect.

And Regulus thinks it’s a good sign that he enjoyed himself as much as he did despite the minor issues they ran into. He’s quick to reassure James, turning in his seat so he can face him.

“Not at all! I had such a good time, James.” He leans over so he can touch his hand to James’, as if to physically convey his sincerity. “I promise.”

James clenches his jaw, a tension in his shoulders that Regulus desperately wants to work away. His hand shifts to fully grab James’. He intertwines their fingers.

“Still… I'll do better next time.” James cuts him a glance. “If you'll let me, that is.”

And Regulus has no choice but to kiss him for it. He doesn’t try to kiss him on the lips, he’s more than happy to let James indicate when he’s ready for that, if at all. Instead, he leans in slowly, giving James ample time to move away. He doesn’t. Regulus places a gentle kiss on James’ cheek. When he pulls away, he sees a faint dusting of pink there. A rosy blush.

He exits the car as gracefully as possible, which is a tall order considering the fact that James drives a Jeep, but the promise of next time carries him all the way to his front door as though on a cloud.

Regulus opens his front door with a flush on his cheeks and toes off his shoes with a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. He boots up his laptop, the blank document staring back at him.

He thinks of James, with his messy hair and his warm smile and his big hands.

He takes a deep breath. And he starts typing: Dominic Coin loves romance. He loves reading it and he loves writing it and he would probably love experiencing it too. Unfortunately, that last one hasn't happened yet, but for now he's happy just imagining. That is until…

[mypoisonedvine]

eddie munson with 90. "is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?", with fem!reader

I didn't use the exact line of dialogue just the concept, I hope you don't mind! I love this request though!!

warnings: just fluff and a wee bit of angst along the way, friends to lovers, 'unrequited' love (the love is requited they are just stupid)

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"Admit it-- you'd let him do anything he wanted to you," Robin laughed teasingly.

"Honestly? Yeah, probably," you agreed as you bit your lip.

"What if he's, like, a freak or something?" she wondered. "Like what if he's into something really fucked up?"

"It would still be hot, 'cause it's him," you decided.

"So if he came up to you right now, and said 'hey, you're cute, wanna come back to my place and take a bath with me in a tub of mayonnaise?' you would..." she prompted.

"I would ask if he knows where I can get bulk mayonnaise for a discount," you grinned.

"Ew! You hate mayonnaise!" she grimaced.

"Yes, but I love him," you explained.

Just then, Eddie hopped up to your table, straddling one of the attached benches with a smile. "Woah, who do we love?" he asked.

"Eddie, you can't just barge in to a private conversation," Robin corrected with a frown.

"Private? I can hear the girlish giggling from the theater room," he scoffed. "Besides, I wanna know the gossip. You've got it bad for somebody?"

He looked around the room as if he would figure out who it was by examining the students, but Robin shook her head. "It's not, like, a real guy. It's her celebrity crush."

"And future husband," you beamed.

"Would I know who it was if you said it?" Eddie wondered.

You thought about not telling him, but it didn't really matter, because Robin blurted it out. "Probably-- it's Kirk Hammett, from Metallica."

Eddie's eyes went wide for a second, before he grinned and leaned one arm against the table. "I guess I should take that as a compliment."

You laughed softly in confusion. "What?"

"You know-- 'cause I look like him!" he announced excitedly.

Robin tilted her head as he stared at Eddie. "Oh yeah!" she said. "You know, now that you say it--"

"No," you shook your head, "you're not like him."

"Yes I am!" he laughed, though it sounded more like a sound of bewilderment than amusement. "Come on, are you serious? People say it all the time!"

"Well, they probably just say it cause you play guitar."

"And the hair?!" he yelped, shaking his mane around for emphasis which made Robin snort.

"Lots of guys have long hair nowadays!" you rolled your eyes. "That doesn't mean anything. Robin's blonde, doesn't mean she looks like Goldie Hawn!"

"Wait, I don't?" Robin asked sarcastically, feigning offence.

"It's not just that-- you seriously don't see it?" Eddie pouted. "Look at me-- I mean, really look at me."

You did, narrowing your eyes slightly as you examined him; he held his arms out as if to show himself to you, which did give you a better view of his arms and ink, but you frowned and shook your head. "I just see Eddie," you shrugged.

He deflated a bit. "Right, well-- anyways, did we get Robin to share her celebrity crush?"

"That was the next order of business," you explained with a smirk, and you both put your attention on the girl across the table.

"Nope-- my lips are sealed," Robin assured.

"If we can guess her name, will you tell us?" Eddie asked.

"No, I'll never--" she started to insist, but the two of you were blurting out names already.

"Brooke Shields!" "Kim Basinger!" "Ooh, Annie Lennox!"

"Guys," Robin groaned, rolling her eyes, but she was starting to blush, too.

~

You and Eddie were sitting side by side on the ground, backs leaned up against the outer wall of the school; his knees were bent and his arms were draped over them, while you sat with your legs overlapping as you tied wildflowers from the lawn into a daisy chain.

"You're quiet," you noticed.

"So? There's not much to say," he replied.

"When has that ever stopped you from running your mouth?" you smirked, looking up at him, but he wasn't smiling back at you so yours sank. "You've been quiet for a while."

"Guess I'm not that peppy today," he decided, staring forward at his fingers as he mindlessly spun one of his rings around.

"Not today," you explained, "like, all week. Is everything okay?"

He shrugged a little as if to say, it doesn't matter.

"Seriously, just talk to me," you pleaded. "Whatever it is, I wanna help."

"You can't help, okay?" he snapped,

"I can't stop thinking about what you said," he admitted. "When you and Robin were talking about your celebrity crush--"

"Listen, Eddie, I'm sorry if I don't see a resemblance, but it's not that big of a deal--"

"No, no, not that," he sighed, "I meant... what you said after. That you just see Eddie."

You knit your eyebrows together, not sure what he was getting at. He finally looked back at you, and the sadness in his eyes made your breath catch.

"That's all you're ever gonna see, isn't it?"

You sighed a little, looking away for a moment. "Ed, not this again--"

"C'mon, babe, you know I'm crazy about you," he sighed, tilting his head until it leaned against the wall behind him. "And I know every excuse you've given me-- you're not ready for a relationship, you don't want to ruin what we have, you don't want to bring me into your messed up brain-- but if you're into this guy who looks like me but you don't want me then... then it must just be that I'm awful, right?"

"Eddie, no," you denied with a pout, but he scoffed and looked ahead again.

"It's okay, I get it," he sighed. "I wouldn't wanna date me either. You deserve all the fancy stuff, y'know? Getting driven to cool dates in a nice car, hanging out at his house and not, you know, a dirty old trailer--"

"I don't want all that stuff," you assured, moving in closer to him. "I want somebody sweet and fun and smart--"

"I knew it's 'cause I can't fuckin' graduate," he mumbled, but you put your hand on his arm to get his attention.

"Eddie, you're not listening to me," you scolded. "It's not you, it's me. And I know that's a cliche but it's true."

"How can it not be me?" he rolled his eyes. "I'm a freak, and a fuck-up, and a flunk-out, and you're basically perfect--"

"Oh my god, you're, like, my dream guy, okay?!" you spat out, louder than you meant to. He finally shut up, and looked at you like he could finally see it-- like he finally knew. "I always liked you," you continued, a little softer and shier than before, "but I knew if I... if we ever actually, you know, went for it, I'd just mess it all up. And you're the last person I'd ever want to hurt--"

He cut you off with a kiss: a sudden, sweet, hungry kiss that caught you off-guard for a second before you melted into it.

It wasn't that one kiss could make all your fears about a relationship go away... but it sure could make them seem a lot less important. And it definitely could help convince you that it was worth the risk.

When he pulled back, he held your face even as you tried to look away to hide it. "Sorry," he said, taking his hands away slowly, "I just had to do that."

"Oh, Ed," you hummed, "you're so cute I could die."

He got a little red in the face, which only made the cuteness more apparent. "Aw hell," he snorted, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "You think I'm cute 'cause I look like Kirk?"

"No," you smiled, "I like Kirk 'cause he looks like you."

[yyokkki]

Vil Schoenheit

A famous celebrity! He grew up in NRV when he was a child but moved with his father to the city after his dad hit it big. Has been an actor since young.

Moved back to NRV when he was older for peace and to escape paparazzi but is gone for the entire spring season every year for film shoots. He often expresses his dislike for being typecast as a villain.

He often helps promote some of the local farmers on Magicam if they impress him.

Seems to have taken a local farm boy named Epel under his wing as he sees potential in him.

He goes for morning runs nearly everyday, sometimes alongside Jack.

Holds film appreciation events with Ortho at the library every Thursday. Sometimes arranges plays for the children in town to act in too!

Loved Gifts: Smoothies. Universal Loves

“Looks like your taste in gifts isn’t as abysmal as your taste in clothing. Fufu, I’m kidding, thank you farmer.”

Hated Gifts: Any Unhealthy Food, Any Mayonnaise, Universal Hates

“Disgusting.”

Rook Hunt

A hunter who lives off of the forests! He does not own a house and nobody knows where he sleeps at night but he’s doing swell!

Good friends with Vil who often fusses over him. He’s also a ultra mega fan of his works as well as Neige’s. (Do not enter his tent; it is filled to the brim with limited edition Vil and Neige merch to the point he had to dig a hole in the ground to make more space).

Helps Trey out with his experiments every Friday and occasionally joins Vil and Ortho in the library for film appreciation.

Often digs in the garbage cans not for food but for information. (Bro has read every letter you’ve received).

Goes down to the mines sometimes to gather iron for his arrows!

Is often found just hanging out with Vil, down in the mines or in the forests hunting or foraging.

Loved Gifts: Liver Pâté, Bait, Royal Sword Cola, Universal Loves

“Beauté! You have captured one of my many hearts, Mon Trickster!"

Hated Gifts: Garlic, Universal Hates

“My, my, I’m afraid even prey wouldn’t take this kind of bait, Mon Trickster…”

Epel Felmier

A farm boy! His family owns an orchard that grows many different fruits throughout the seasons but specialises in apples! You buy most tree saplings from him.

Lives with his grandmother at the orchard and often helps out.

Vil (forcibly) took him under his wing and has been trying to correct his speech patterns.

He really wants to join the adventurers guild and explore the mines but he can’t get past Rook.

Plays rugby with Leona and Ruggie every sunny Sunday.

Sometimes helps Deuce out while he’s working on his motorcycle (He’s so hype about it).

Is often found around Vil and Rook or in the orchard.

Loved Gifts: BBQ Meat, Macarons, Wool, Apple, Universal Loves

“Yer the best farmer! But don’t tell Vil, got it?”

Hated Gifts: Pears, Universal Hates

“Dang, son of a- ahem… You can take this back.”

---

TWST x SDV Masterlist

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[tyrian-witch]

Some B.S.

(Steve x Reader)

Synopsis: after a dumb fight with your mom, you call Steve to take you away from your troubles

Warnings: not super proof read, mentions of dysfunctional family, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, Steve being an awesome supportive bf

A/N: don’t worry, I’m working on chapter four of In This World of My Own but this was kind of a vent post and I had to write it out :p don’t mind me

~~~

“Hey, can you pick me up?” you say softly through the receiver. “I need to get out of here.”

Your boyfriend clear his throat on the other end. He must have been asleep and now you feel bad for even calling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, half awake. “I’ll be over in ten, is everything okay?” Despite his sleepy state, he didn’t miss the the way your voice cracked; he knew something was up.

Sniffling, you shake your head. “I don’t even- frickinknow at this point.”

“Just hang in there babe, I’m coming to get you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He hangs up and immediately throws on a pair of jeans and his navy blue sweater which he’s come to understand is your favourite one whenever he wears it. Slipping on his shoes, he snatches his keys and jacket, and soon enough, he’s on his way to you.

~~~

Steve’s car is parked a block away from your house, the streetlights illuminating his prized BMW you’ve become so familiar with in the past few years you’ve known each other before dating. You approach the car with your arms tightly crossed against your chest, an action Steve’s come to associate with any time you feel upset about something- not in a childish manner, more so as a gesture of feeling small or remorseful about whatever just transpired, not that it was really your fault. Often, you usually only do it after you’ve had a silly fight with your mom.

Sighing heavily, you sit down in your designated spot next to Steve in the car, the warmth of it enveloping you, along with his scent which has brought you comfort countless times, including tonight. You reach over and give him a big hug and he wastes no time in holding you close to him.

He places a kiss on top of your hair while caressing it.“What’s going on, honey?” he asks softly.

You pull away from the hug and swipe a hand down your face, another sniffle escaping you. “It’s just…” you shake your head in disbelief. “It’s just another one of those- stupid fricking arguments,” you grumble. “Like, I can’t even- like-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he coaxes gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Take your time.”

Curling in yourself, you rest your head against your knees. “Can we drive around for a bit?” you ask, your voice small and timid.

“Yeah, of course babe, where’d you wanna go?” He begins backing out of the parking space, putting a hand behind the head of your seat to make sure nothing was in the way, and then drives forward.

He sees you shrug from the corner of his eye before you answer. “Maybe we could stop for a milkshake?”

“Yeah? A milkshake?”

You nod.

He smiles in adoration. “Okay, let’s get you a milkshake.”

~~~

You end up parked on an empty street with your milkshake of choice in hand, the plastic cup cool against your palms. It makes you shiver, but the rush of sugar lets you ignore the cold sensation. Steve has one of his own, and occasionally you switch between the drinks to get a taste of the other flavour.

“Okay,” Steve starts gently. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

You nod while sipping on the drink.

He waits patiently as you muster up your words, the soft look in his gaze never faltering.

“Okay, so basically…” you clear the sweet taste from your throat. “What happened… is honestly… so…” you pause in between your words, trying to find the best way to put it into an explanation. “Stupid. It’s just plain stupid.” Throwing your hands up in the air as a tell tale sign of exasperation, you continue. “And the thing is, and- this is honestly so hilarious, it’s the most hilarious thing ever, you’re gonna laugh- I forgot to put mayonnaise on the corn bits that were cut up for my brother!”

Steve blinks once in amazement. “I… what??”

You raise your eyebrows and nod. “Yup.”

“So let me get this straight: your mom got upset at you because you forgot to put mayonnaise on Donnie’s corn?”

“Yeah, and it was an honest mistake that I forgot! I literally forgot and it’s even funnier because I was gonna have my own corn on the cob with mayonnaise and I was ready to warm it up in the microwave! I didn’t even think twice, I just took his plate out when it was done warming up and I brought it to him, and then I was going to put mine in and then my mom saw and that’s when the whole thing happened. Honest to god.” You’re breathing heavily after all the words have spilled out in a rush, trying to make sense of things.

“I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, as if I can’t bring the plate back and add mayonnaise myself. Hell, Donnie can do it himself, he’s ten years old!”

Steve is staring into space as he’s listening; he’s trying to make sense of it too, he’s just as lost.

“Well, that’s not really the point, the point is I know Donnie eats corn with mayo, it’s common sense at this point, but I guess I was just so hungry that I was ready to put my own plate in the microwave. Again: without a second thought. I just forgot! But god forbid if I forget anything, it’s like the end of the fucking world. And it was for Donnie anyways! Not for her! I would understand if he was upset about it, then yeah, okay, but c’mon! Seriously?!”

Taking an angry slurp from your drink, you sink into your seat, feeling more worked up than you were before.

“I mean, yeah I get it,” Steve says, thinking of how to help. “If he was mad, then yeah okay, but it’s not like it couldn’t be fixed. I don’t get why she’s upset. If I was her, I wouldn’t even have you feeling the way you do.” He looks at you and rests a gentle hand on your cheek. “I would never put you through something like this over something so stupid.”

You scoff at the whole situation. “I know. It is stupid. It’s more than stupid, it’s- it’s bullshit!” Something clicks in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh. “She treats me like bullshit! She always always always has something to say! She always judges me and she loves to compare me to my sorry excuse of a dad.” The words roll of your tongue like venomous vigour and contempt, and in the midst of your rambling, Steve’s hand has left your face; he’s learned that when you get this way, it’s best to give you some space, he knows affection will be welcomed back afterwards.

“And obviously when I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, that I could easily fix the problem, she got mad and said that I was patronizing her because I told her the same thing my dad always did: “it’s not a big deal.” Well news flash! It’s not! The world didn’t shut down, did it!? And I’m not my fucking father! I’m not! It’s like she only sees him in me, that’s why she always judges me and never sees me for me. To her, I’m only an extension of him, not separate from him, not as an individual, not as myself, just him.” Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to calm yourself. In a fit of rage, it’s like everything makes sense to you now.

Exhaling sharply, you take your boyfriend’s hand in yours and squeeze before letting go. “It sucks,” you tell him finally. “She’s never understood me. She doesn’t even try. But she’ll actively try to understand Donnie because she sees herself in him.”

You sit in silence for a little while to regain your tranquility, leaning your head against the dashboard. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“You know something?” he asks. “You’re right. It is bullshit. This whole thing is bullshit!”

You perk up at this but don’t say anything - he takes it as a sign to continue.

“It’s bullshit that she doesnt understand you, Y/n. I mean, I understand what that’s like, I mean my own dad is a complete asshole, and my mom well… I don’t know, she’s totally different from yours, but this isn’t about my family issues.” He takes your hands in his, causing you to sit up and take in his words. “It’s bullshit that she doesn’t think you’re a human being who forgets things. Sure, maybe you forget very often, but that’s not even bad. I would never hold that against you ever.”

Biting your quivering lip, you look away to avoid him from seeing your glassy eyes, but he gently tilts your face to look back at him.

“Baby, you are nothing like your dad. Not even a little bit. I know you hate being compared to him, and I’m sorry you’re constantly being misunderstood. I love you for you. I see you.”

Those last few words are what makes you let it all come crashing down as you cry into his chest, hands gripping the navy sweater tightly, hanging on for dear life. Heaving sobs rack through your body and bones as he holds you close to him and kisses the crown of your head, gently caressing your hair.

The milkshakes are long forgotten at this point, and as Steve keeps you close to his heart, he continues to remind you that he understands you, that you are human and make mistakes, simple mistakes like any other. When your crying dies down, you finally give him a kiss. You hadn’t kissed him since you set foot in his car. He kisses you back, slowly and softly, his hands cupping your face as he gingerly wipes away the remaining tears from your red cheeks.

The kiss is your way of telling him ‘thank you for being here, for understanding me’ and in reply, it’s his way of saying ‘I will always be here for you, no matter what.’

[blue-sadie]

Never Be Ashamed

Neteyam Sully x Pregnant Reader

Summary: he knows somethings up and he's about to get to the bottom of it.

Warning: none

3rd person pov

Neteyam had noticed that something was off with his pregnant girlfriend yn, when she started acting different around food. She would stare at the refrigerator for minutes, then close it and move to another. Or would suddenly ask for pickles and peanut butter, or worse, order pizza with ice cream on top.

One evening, as they were cuddled up on the couch watching TV, Yn felt a sudden urge to have her favorite snack.

But she was too shy to ask Neteyam for it. She knew how weird she sounded when she asked for it, and she feared that Neteyam would laugh at her.

Neteyam could sense that something was bothering yn. When he asked her, she hesitated for a moment before she blurted out her craving for pickles and mayonnaise.

Neteyam didn't laugh instead, he went to the fridge and brought a huge jar of pickles and a can of mayonnaise.

He also brought some crackers and chocolates. He put everything on a tray and brought it over to the couch.

Yn was surprised and touched by the gesture. Her eyes lit up when she saw the pickles and mayonnaise.

Neteyam could feel her body relax and her face light up with joy as she ate her snack. And he couldn't help but smile as she ate, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

As she finished her snack, Neteyam held her close and cuddled her. He told her how proud he was of her, and how much he loved her.

And as they held each other, yn knew that she had found the partner who would always support and love her, even through her weird cravings.