#and i like it when they cry. i like it best when they both laugh and cry. eeaao intent

[luludeluluramblings]

Socialite!BatSis!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Hi! I don't know where the fuck this came from. But, it has plagued me for months. Inspired by Labour and the Fruits by Paris Palmoa, Please Don't Cry for Your Daughters Eve by Lydia the Bard, and Curses by the Crane Wives. This my attempt at being dark, so either this fucks you up or I fucked up. Apologies for both.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Implied assault, neglect, yandere themes at the end

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You got the Wayne looks, the Wayne charm, the Wayne name, but you’re fragile. Bruce would tell you. Damian would tell you. (Not so kindly.) Everyone in the manor would tell you.

But, charm and good looks still have their uses. And, everyone in the family despises all the galas they need to attend.

So, when Bruce offers to take you to one, you up the charm, you dress your best. You use your finest manners and all the proper ways your Momma raised you to your advantage. And, you flourish.

You can tell from the slight smile Bruce has on his face on the way home. The hint of pride in his eyes at your job well done.

You can’t help your family or Gotham as a Bat. But, you can help them as a Wayne.

The socialite. That’s your roll. Not a bird, not a bat. A little social butterfly. Drawing the public attention away from the things that go bump in the night.

You like your role. Sure, you're not bounding over the Gotham skyline saving people from muggers and insanely themed villains. But, you're helping your family, and that's what matters to you.

At least, that's how it starts.

It was special to you in the beginning. Going to charity gala's and events with your father, Bruce. No one else in the family enjoys going to these events. It was your own personal father and daughter bonding time, in a way.

But, as you got older the pressure started and the distance between you and the others grew.

You were a music box ballerina. Spinning in place to the same tune over and over again while sitting on a dusty shelf. And, Bruce would wind you up to dance every time he need his social butterfly to charm Gotham's public.

Soon you had a whole team of faceless people picking out your dresses, changing your style, cutting your hair. You couldn't be anything less than a vain air-headed heiress, because that was your role. Brucie needed someone to follow in his footsteps, not Batman.

The dresses got more expensive, the flashes got brighter. The diets got stricter.

And, the distance grew farther.

And, then Bruce stopped going with you to the galas.

You weren't upset the first time. Or, the second time. Or, even the third time.

It was the fourth time that things started to crack.

Sure, Batman was needed. Sure, there was Justice League business. Sure, there was a patrol that ran late. Sure, there was a breakout at Arkham.

But, the fourth time, when you found him and the rest of the family laughing in the cave, it really didn't feel like they were focusing on the good of Gotham while you were struggling to smile sweetly at men twice Bruce's age wanting to take you home.

Still, you powered on. Kept doing your part. You were making the family proud afterall.

Right?

It was the ninth time it happened that you broke.

The nineth time you had gone to a gala alone in an expensive dress you didn't pick, one that showed off way too much skin. One that seemed to tell everyone in that grand ballroom that you were up for the taking. One that just barely hid the bruises from their fingers and palms under the fabric.

You wore that placating smile and that dress all the way home. With a driver you didn't know at the wheel of the car Bruce sent for you. The backseat empty even if you sat on it.

When you got home, you walk in on something that made each cracked piece of you ache.

Apparently it was game night. Everyone that mattered was playing Mario cart of all things.

"Look at that Cinderella’s back from the ball." Jason was the first to notice you standing in the doorway of the room. And, his words burned.

Cinderella. Cinderella. Back from the Ball.

"Hey, glad you’re back. Hope you had fun." Dick didn't even glance at you as he spoke, took focused on beating Stephanie who had her tongue sticking out as she concentrated.

"God, those galas are so boring, I don’t know how you do it." Duke says in passing. It would be meaningful if he hadn't said the same thing the last six times you had come home.

Tim and Damian were also playing the game, with Tim occasionally nudging Damian to mess him up. Like typical siblings.

Barbara was in the room as well, a book on her lab to read. Only you could tell she hadn't read much, judging from where her book mark was located.

"Good job." Bruce says absentmindedly. You can't even tell if its directed at you or at the blueshell Damian just managed to hit Dick's racer with.

Words don't even leave your lips as you exit the doorway, pieces of you falling to the floor as you wobble to your room.

Cinderella. Cinderella.

The clock striking twelve in your mind as you feel the rotten pumpkin sinking in your gut and the magic wearing off.

You don't notice that Cassandra seems to hear it too as she watches you. Like she can hear the shards falling to the ground. And, she's unsure if she needs to warn the family that something just broke down the hall.

As you enter your room, taking in the fancy decor. It feels disgusting. The magic is gone. It's all rotten and you want it gone.

Cinderella. Cinder. Cinder.

Your tear the fabric of the dress as you take it off. Tears falling down your cheeks s you struggle against the fabric and clasp. Expensive gemstones falling to the floor as your finally rip it free.

There bruises under your dress. Finger prints on your bones. And, you're choking on air as the fabric rubs your skin as it falls to the floor. The fabric ripples like water and you hate it. You want the opposite of cool rippling water. Water drowns, and you need air.

Your skin feels to hot and each bruise burns.

Cinder. Cinder.

You're Cinderella and you crave ashes. You need air, but smoke will do instead.

Instead of letting it lay on the ground like it's dead, you throw open that grand window in your room and chuck it out the window. Watching as it flutters and falls to the grass in a heap, the breeze doing nothing to cool your anger on and underneath.

It’s not enough. Not enough. It's not going to be enough.

More. Cinderella. Give it more.

Your closet door was cracked when you left for the gala tonight. Now you break it the rest of the way and grab each hanger carrying a pretty dress in a bag and throw it over the ledge.

Still not enough. Needs more ash.

Cinderella. Cinderella.

You break you dresser as you rip out the drawers. The wood splintering as you throw it out the window and on to the pile of dresses on the night dew covered grass.

You want to throw more, but you chest is heaving and your hands are shaking. Instead you stumble out of your room with just the bruises on your skin and towards the kitchen. You don't even hear the pans and cabinets doors slamming as you search for the matches.

Before you can find your light, you find a bottle of fancy wine. One that reminded you of the smell of this night.

You grab it, not caring that another bottle falls and shatters by your feet. Drawing attention, but not yours, as you finally find the matches and wobble out the door towards your pile of soon to be ash.

Cinderella. Cinderella.

You're laughing as you shatter the bottle on to the fabric. Lighting up a single match and then throwing the entire box at it the pile.

It catches light quick and the air around you finally matches the heat under your skin.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You can barely hear Bruce's voice from behind you as your laugh. Turing to face him and the rest of the family's horrified faces at the sight of you.

You can barely restrain the giggles.

“I’m Cinderella. Cinder fucking Ella.” You spin like the little figurine you are. Like the pretty paper ballerina before she burst into flame.

Bruce rushes towards you, words spilling from his lips as terrifying thoughts fill his head at the sight of the bruises illuminating your skin.

“What happened tonight?”

“You would know if you had been there. But, you weren't. You never are.”

“Listen, you said you liked the galas-“ Excuses, excuses. You made enough for him and the rest of them in your own head that you don't want to hear more spoken out loud.

“I did! I did! But, that was when I had my father there to keep me safe.” You mock, spinning out of reach and looking at the flames.

They don't last long. The wood from your broken dresser drawers the only thing keeping the fire going. The expensive fabric not lasting long at all. Pretty things rarely ever do.

“But, no. I’m just another little one of your pawns in this family. Only you didn’t fuckin’ train me on how to fight off wandering hands. You taught me that I just had to grin and bare it.” Bitterness trips from your lips as you wipe of that sweet tasting wine from the night off your mouth.

“What happened?” His voice almost shakes. Almost, but not quite. You were the fragile one. The paper ballerina. The little Cinderella of the family.

You weren't suppose to break under his care.

But, was there any care if he let you fall from the shelf after he so haphazardiously placed you on it between uses?

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper to yourself. Words that had been dying to say to the hands that touches to tonight. Words that you wanted to shove down the throats of the strangers that pinched your skin, that gripped you too tight and too close.

“I’M NOT A WHORE!” Instead you scream it at him. Uncaring if you don't look pretty and perfect while doing it. Uncaring if your voice cracks from the way the emotion bubbles from your chest.

Startling enough, Bruce wraps his arms around you. Like he was trying to shield you. Like he was trying to keep you safe. Like he should have done. It feels awkward and tight. Your arms pressed tightly to your chest at an awkward angle. Your legs giving out at you sob and scream at him.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t you touch me. Let me go— I don’t want you to touch me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m— I’m so sorry.” His whispers over into your hair as he clutches you close. So close that you feel more bruises forming on your skin.

Cinderella. Cinderella.

“I’m not—" Your voice breaking as you wail. Like the child you are in his arms.

Through your tears you watch Dick turn away, followed by the others. Cass lingering to brush your hair back as Bruce holds you tight.

You don't see his fist clench so tight his knuckles turn white.

You don't hear the silence in the cave as Jason changes out the bullets in his gun.

You don't feel the chill in the air as Damian scouts out the fancy house.

You don't feel the fear of God that Tim puts into grown men as that watch their wealthy drain to zero before their eyes on screens.

You don't watch as Barbara makes a few calls and plants evidence of crimes that can't be covered up.

You don't see Stephanie ripping out teeth.

You don't see Duke letting Gotham go dark as terror reigns for that one long night and day.

You just see Bruce, holding you close and apologize over and over again while Alfred puts out the flames behind you.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Yeah, I love the thought of Reader being the one to be the Socialite Wayne while everyone does vigilante stuff. But, interacting with Gotham’s elite would suck so much and so many things could go wrong.

A/N: Apologies if I missed the mark with it or if it’s all over the place.

A/N: I just really loved the imagery of standing in front of a fire of expensive burning dresses while screaming at Bruce naked as the day you were born much to the rest of the family’s horror.

[caitified]

more of paige bueckers family series pleaaaase i beg u 🥺😭

FIRST MONTHS

PAIGE BUECKERS X FAMILY

warnings:none. sorry for the wait, this is my most requested series so more to come.

the first few months with your daughter weren’t what you’d call smooth. you and paige knew having a baby would turn your world upside down, but knowing it and living it were two entirely different things. your once semi-organized life had turned into a constant balancing act of feedings, diaper changes, and figuring out how to make it through the day on three hours of sleep.

but somehow, amidst the chaos, you found a rhythm. it wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t always pretty, but it was yours.

at first, neither of you knew what you were doing. the first night home from the hospital, you and paige had stared at each other in panic when the baby started crying at two in the morning.

“what does she want?” paige whispered, holding the baby awkwardly in her arms like she might break.

“i don’t know. food? a diaper change? emotional support?” you whispered back, equally clueless.

“great. so, all of the above,” paige muttered, already heading toward the changing table.

over the next few weeks, the two of you learned quickly—or at least, you learned to fake it. paige became the diaper-changing expert, able to handle even the most catastrophic blowouts with an efficiency that made you jealous. you, on the other hand, mastered the art of the middle-of-the-night feeding, figuring out how to balance a bottle in one hand and keep yourself awake with the other.

“we’re basically superheroes now,” paige said one morning after you both managed to get the baby down for a nap.

“superheroes who need coffee,” you replied, already heading toward the kitchen.

you quickly realized that sleep wasn’t something you could count on anymore. at best, you’d catch a few hours here and there, usually in shifts. there were nights when you’d both be awake at the same time, passing the baby back and forth as she cried like she’d been personally offended by the universe.

“this is payback,” paige said one night, her voice barely audible over the baby’s wails.

“for what?” you asked, half-asleep as you tried to rock her back and forth.

“for all the times we said, ‘how hard could it be?’”

you both laughed, though it quickly turned into groaning when the baby’s cries only got louder.

despite the exhaustion, there were moments that made it all worth it. like the first time she smiled which made you and paige almost cry.

“she likes me!” paige had said triumphantly, holding her up like a trophy.

“don’t get cocky,” you teased, though you couldn’t stop grinning either.

then there were the quiet mornings, when the baby would fall asleep on paige’s chest while you sat beside them on the couch. paige would be half-watching something on tv, one hand resting protectively on your daughter’s back, her face soft in a way that made your chest tighten.

“she’s obsessed with you,” you said one morning, watching the way your daughter’s tiny hand clung to paige’s hoodie.

“she has good taste,” paige replied with a smirk, though her eyes stayed focused on the baby.

and, of course, there were milestones that felt bigger than they probably were: the first time she rolled over, the first bath she didn’t scream through, the first time she actually slept for four whole hours straight.

“is this what winning the lottery feels like?” paige asked that morning, blinking at the clock as if it might be lying.

“better,” you said, though you’d never been so happy to sleep through an alarm.

the days were long, and the nights were longer, but you got through them together. paige took over baby carrier duty, insisting on wearing her whenever you went on walks, even if the baby drooled all over her hoodie. you were in charge of documenting everything, snapping pictures of every milestone and filling your phone with blurry shots of paige making faces at the baby to get her to laugh.

“don’t post that one,” paige said one day, glancing at your screen as you scrolled through photos.

“too late,” you replied, already uploading it.

“you’re lucky i love you,” she muttered, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile.

by the time the three-month mark rolled around, you’d started to feel like you had a handle on things—or as much of a handle as two sleep-deprived people could have. your daughter was growing more every day, her personality starting to peek through in the way she laughed when paige tickled her or the way she stared at you like you were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

“we’re doing okay, right?” paige asked one night as you both lay on the couch, the baby finally asleep in her bassinet.

“we’re doing better than okay,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder.

she kissed the top of your head, her arm wrapping around you as she relaxed for the first time all day. “yeah. we’ve got this.”

and even if you didn’t, you were figuring it out together, one day at a time.

[tojisglazer]

🌟Random JJK Men Headcanons!🌟

Creds to @cafekitsune for all dividers!!

NSFW CONTENT UP AHEAD!!

Includes: Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Shiu Kong (Maybe more characters in the future! Recommend some n’ they might be up here next!…just no minors pls unless it’s for fluff 😭😭)

Not rlly proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes!!!

Kento Nanami

• Would definitely be a whiner, especially when it’s time to get up in the morning, “Mmm..darlinggg…”, his grip on your waist becoming tighter. “Just five more minutes.. pretty please…?”, how could you possibly deny your sweet husband?

• Kento will always help you with your hair if needed and is always good at it (You don’t know this, but every night while your sleeping, he watches YouTube videos on how to style curly hair in cute styles he knows you’d like).

• Rarely ever cries to you since he doesn’t want you stressing out over him. When he did cry, however, you’d be sure to have him lay on your lap and softly coo at him until he falls asleep.

• Will be the cook of the house. Sure, he’d let you cook a few meals from time to time, but he would prefer cooking for you instead of vice versa. (His food ALWAYS ended up delicious)

“Kento let me cook for tonight please! You cook all the timeee!” You whine as you’re being dragged back to the living room by your husband.

“Please, my love, sit down. I want you to relax this evening.” Kento kisses you on your forehead as he sits you down on the couch. “Dinner will be ready in a few, okay?”

“Tomorrow night Kento, I will be cooking.” You say with a pout on your face, and Kento can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

• When one of your favorite songs of all time play on the car radio, you’d scream the lyrics, eventually luring Kento in to sing with you. He probably wouldn’t know half of the songs you listen to, but he’ll still sing with you if it makes you happy.

• Never calls you by your name unless something serious is going on. Will always call you baby, sweetheart, darling, love, or honey. (Ex. “Love, if you don’t mind, could you get me a sandwich from that bakery I always go to?” “Honey, you’re always so good to me, I love you so much.”)

• Speaking of which, he loves it when you call him sweetie, Ken, or even if you refer to him as “your man”. He gets hard just thinking about it.

• He’s definitely a little pervert. Whenever you’re out the house for a lengthened period of time, he’d use the opportunity to steal multiple pairs a pair of your used underwear and jack off to it in your shared bedroom, making sure to leave his cum right in the center of your panties. Little did he know, however, the cameras in your house caught every second of it.

• Kento would absolutely love to be dominated by you. Just the thought of you riding him and fucking him with your strap until there’s tears rolling down his face just does something to him.

• He’ll beg and whimper to you at any point during sex, the way he looks so pathetic as soon as you have him in your grasp is something indescribable and makes you want more. “Mmh—babyyyy—haah—oh goddd—I’m gonna cumm-”

“L-Love please—please let me—”

“Ooohhhh—can’t hold it b-back, d-darling-“

• We all know this man is an absolute king when it comes to aftercare. Giving you a minute to rest, he goes to your kitchen and brews up some chamomile tea. Afterwards, he runs a warm bath with some rose petals which he knows you like.

Toji Fushiguro

• Isn’t very good at communication due to being raised in nothing but an abusive household. Knowing this, you help him every step of the way, and he can’t help but look at you with hearts in his eyes.

•He’ll hit you with a dad joke at the most random and unexpected times. You could both be showering together and he’d be talking about some, “What do you call two ducks and a cow? Quackers and milk.” They’ll always make you laugh, though.

• Expect Toji to tease you 24/7. For example, if you’re wearing a bonnet, best believe he’s snatching it off as soon as you walk past him, laughing and holding it over his head as you’re trying to take it back.

-SWOOP- All you feel now is a breeze on the top of your head instead of your trusty bonnet. “Toji I swear to God if you don’t stop snatching my bonnet there’s gonna be problems.” You turn to face the man who now has your leopard print bonnet in his big hand.

“Oh please girl,” you hated the way he mirrored your sass. (You didn’t) “Y’r not gonna do a thing to me.” He chuckled, now putting your bonnet on his head.

“Tojiiiii you’re gonna stretch it outtt!” You groaned and hit his chest, yet Toji doesn’t pay you any mind.

“Babyyyyy,” He mimics you, “I’ll give it back under one condition.”

You sigh, knowing the exact condition.

“Jus’ gimmie a kiss, and the bonnet is all yours.”

• His usual go-to of pet names would include: Doll, babe, baby, ma, brat, and princess (Ex. “Babe, you wanna come to this new restaurant with me? Heard they had some good steak.” “Quit bein’ such a little brat.” “Y’look so damn pretty, doll.”).

• Toji brags to his best friend Shiu all about you, much to his annoyance. He boasts about how pretty you are, how smart you are, how big your ass is, and how lucky he is to have you.

• He absolutely loves the way you treat his five year old son, Megumi. You treat the boy as if he’s your own, and Toji can’t help but smile until his cheeks are sore, and even then he wouldn’t stop smiling.

• This man cannot cook for shit. The only cooking he’s doing would be making toast with butter or ordering takeout.

• He’d definitely eat you out of a house and home and take a fat nap afterwards, though. His portions of food would be enough to feed three people. Living with him, you’d have to go food shopping every two days.

• Though he’d never admit it, Toji loves hugs and how you smother him will all kinds of affection. He’d act all annoyed and tough and claim he doesn’t like it, but deep down you both know he eats it up every single time.

•Expect to see dirty gym socks and other clothing attire scattered across your shared bedroom. You’ll tell him to stop acting like a pig and clean up after himself, but it’ll go in one ear and straight out the other.

• Toji has such a praise kink. Whenever the words “good boy” or any other compliment leaves your pretty lips, it’s like he can’t think for himself anymore.

• He loves, loves, loves, having sex in missionary position with you. He loves being so close to you, being able to smell your special scent, and whisper in your ears, “Look how—fuck—look how messy this pretty pussy is for me, ma.”

“Y’r taking my cock so fucking well, baby.”

“Love ya so fucking much, y’know that? Hah—shit—Yeah, y’know that.” while he’s absolutely demolishing your insides. Don’t get him wrong, the man loves tons of sex positions, but missionary will always be his first pick.

• He may not look the part, but Toji whimpers and moans like crazy when he’s about to cum. “Hnghh—ooohhhh—fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—“

• When he cums, expect a bunch of it. It’s so much that it leaks out of your throbbing cunt and onto the light pink bed sheets, leaving a puddle.

• His kind of aftercare would be licking your clit, ridding it of any leftover cum. Afterwards, he’d give you a water bottle and massage any aching body parts. He’d then order some of your favorite take out and you’d both eat it together while watching some corny dad show he found on tv.

Shiu Kong

• You have this man wrapped around your pretty finger. He’ll spoil you rotten. He couldn’t possibly think of saying no to his princess, especially when he has the money to get you whatever you want.

• You will never find yourself in a position where you need to lift a finger whenever he’s around. You’ll get nothing but royalty treatment.

• Shiu absolutely hates it whenever you’re around Toji. He knows Toji wouldn’t do anything, but seeing you even look at him gets on his nerves.

• You wake up to the smell of some freshly cooked bacon and eggs (or whatever else you’d favor) due to him. His day will literally be ruined if he isn’t able to cook for you.

• Whenever you want your hair and nails done, Shiu will give you the money, plus a little extra so you can get yourself something nice.

• Your car will definitely end up smelling like his cigarettes mixed with his signature cologne after a while.

• You practically beg him to teach you a few words in Korean (mostly curse words) since you claims he sounds so sexy speaking it.

“Come onnnnnn,” you whine, following Shiu around the house as he carries the clean laundry in a basket. “Just one word, please?”

“I’ve already said a word, princess, don’t you remember that?” He stops in his tracks and turns to face you.

“Okay—well—one more!” you pout and cross your arms.

“Don’t do that,” Shiu chuckles, then sighs contently. “How could I ever say no to you, beautiful?” Your eyes light up and a big smile is displayed on your face.

“사랑해요, 예쁜.” He whispers in your ear and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“What’s that mean??”

“It means I love you, pretty.” He cups your face with two hands. You can’t help but giggle and leave a kiss on his lips.

• Like Kento, Shiu wouldn’t call you by your name at all. He hasn’t called you by your name ever since you two first met. Sometimes you wonder if he even knows your name (he does). The names he calls you are: Doll face, love, princess, pretty, beautiful, bunny (Ex. “Did y’want this necklace, princess?” “Let’s go out to eat, doll face.” “You can take it, bunny, can’t you? Yes you can.”).

• Every morning, his head is found in between your legs, licking and sucking at your clit. Every time you try to push his head away due to overstimulation, he says “Come on, pretty, m’just eating some breakfast, gimmie a minute.”

• This man is extremely weak for head. His breathy moans only get louder as he’s getting closer and closer to his climax. “Ohh f-fuck—my love—s-s’close—”

“Y’r sucking s’good pretty—mmh—so fucking good-”

• He’ll immediately return the favor by stuffing your sobbing pussy with his fat cock, thrusting in an unforgiving pace. “H-Hah—you h-hear that? Y’hear how she’s—shit—purring for me l-love?”

“I know you can take it bunny, I know you can—ooohhh ffffuckkkk-”

• After he’s done with you, he kisses your forehead and wipes you down with a warm damp towel. He then massages your plump thighs and kisses your face a bit more. When you’re finally asleep, he goes out to your balcony for a quick smoke.

[revelboo]

I love how instantly protective Rumble is in Alcohol Eyes. He’s very open about what he wants especially compared to the other Decepticons. He knows he likes this human and he’s willing to show the other people around too :)

He’s pretty much in love- or thinks he is. 18+ 🌶️

Alcohol Eyes Pt 6

Rumble x Reader

• Laughing instead of crying, because he’s so serious about it. And of course, he’s a bit off. Actually believes he’s an alien robot because he’s wearing a costume. You’ve always been able to pick them. So it’s no real surprise, just a disappointment. Smile wavering as your eyes dip down. Snag on that bit of his anatomy that’s still happy to see you despite what you’d just done. And, oh. Yeah, that’s not part of the costume. That’s real.

• “Damn, you are an alien.” Uncertain, he watches you flop on your back with an arm across your eyes. Still not screaming, though. “Holiest of shits, I fucked an alien.” Crawling up your body and bracing himself so his face is inches from yours, your hand bumps his jaw when you move your arm to look at him. Aware of his spike pulsing against your belly, as he waits for you to freak out, reject him. Wanting you to want him still.

• “To be fair, we both did,” he says, voice so solemn about it you start cracking up again. Half tempted to drag him down and go another round, since sanity is already out the window. And because that thick spike is rubbing against you as he shifts over you, leaving a wet smear. Gently pushing against his shoulder until he reluctantly shifts to lay sideways beside you, you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Pleasantly sore and desperately needing coffee to make any sense of this madness. “Don’t go,” he murmurs, moving to hook an arm around you and drag himself closer. Feel his mouth on your hip and you shiver as you look down at him.

• “I’m not running away,” you say, soft hand touching his helm as he mouths your warm skin. “But I need to do human things. Do you, um eat? Food?” Rumbling softly as he allows you to slip out of bed, he shadows you as you bend to retrieve a sheer covering off the floor and he moves up behind you, hands on your hips. “Guess the whole alien thing explains the stamina,” you moan, a hand landing on your dresser as he finds and enters you again, keeping you bent forward as he ruts against you.

• Can’t stop himself, just wants to lose himself in the scent and feel of you. Because if this is all he’s allowed, he’s going to enjoy it to the fullest. Wonders if he can just keep you, ask for his own quarters and just take you. Keep you in his berth. As tempting as the idea is, he’s not sure that you wouldn’t come to hate him for it. Part of what he enjoys so much about you is how impulsive you are. How wild. Trapping you might kill that spirit. But he could sneak out and return here, couldn’t he? Spend his nights in your bed. Groaning as his hips snap against you, listening to those scandalous, illicit sounds you make as you take his spike, he never wants this to end.

• You’re not going to be able to walk if he keeps this up, already sore in the best way possible, thighs trembling. Not only meeting your need, but exceeding it. In the back of your mind, there’s concerns, because this sci-fi stuff? You probably need to be asking some questions instead of pushing back to meet his thrusts on a breathy moan. Head dropping as your fingers claw at the dresser top when his thrusts become rougher, wilder, you hear the knock on the front door and swear explosively. Feel him shift against you, grinding against you and tipping you over the edge. Coming apart as his hips snap against you with wet sounds before he’s joining you. And whoever it is at the door is banging on it now. “Want me to kill them?” He growls in your ear, hips rocking shallowly against you. Feeling his excess sliding down the inside of your thigh.

• Laughing, you reach back and push against him until he lets you go and you find your coverup again and slip it on. Seeing his lips thin in disapproval. Hearing him growl that he’ll answer the door. Tempting you to point out that he’s just swinging free right now, but hell, if it’s a census worker or a solicitor at this time of morning, they deserve an eyeful of angry, alien junk. Moving into the kitchen, you get coffee going and play with the hem of your sheer coverup. A present from the last guy, it really doesn’t do anything to actually cover anything. When you hear the door close without any screaming, you turn toward the hall and freeze. Oh, yeah. There’d been two of them, hadn’t there. Your alien bestie and his alien twin. Who’s staring openly at you and your everything not at all hidden by sheer lace. Oops.

Previous

[electrosuite]

okay. al. i need something put into words. idk if you've seen it but in "we live in time" andrew and florence didn't hear cut when filming a sex scene. so i was wondering. could you do something where eddie has taken up acting. it's an experimental movie, so y'all are actually fucking. it's unsimulated sex. y'all don't hear cut, but you're so into it that neither of you stop. you don't notice until he cums, then you both remember the cameras.

warnings: swearing, fingering oral sex, descriptive sex, sex on camera

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i saw we live in time opening week and absolutely loved it. put andrew garfield's bare ass in more movies!!!

masterlist

One of the best decisions you'd made was moving to Hollywood to pursue acting. You loved it, and you were a natural. You could make yourself cry on command, you often lost yourself in scenes, and you weren't afraid to get nude on camera. That was something that was pretty common for the 80s, specifically female nudity.

You'd filmed many sex scenes in your career, but they were all simulated. Prosthetics, body doubles, cushions between bodies. But when you were approached to do an experimental film, one with completely unsimulated sex, your curiosity was piqued.

You were told you wouldn't meet the other actor until the day of, which turned out to be the first day on set. You were told that some studios, this one included, preferred to get sex scenes out of the way first and film the rest after. Your first impression of this guy would be when you had sex with him.

So when you were sitting on set in your tight black dress — which would be removed in the scene — and he walked in, your eyes widened. He was very handsome, just your type. He had long curly black hair, he was covered in tattoos, and immediately started joking around with the crew. He was wearing a suit, one which fit his body nicely.

When he spotted you, he walked right over and sat next to you.

"You my co-star?" he asked in a hopeful tone.

"That would be me."

"Eddie." He stuck his hand out and you shook it.

"Y/N."

"You look familiar. I feel like I've seen you in something else before."

"Maybe. Sorry, but I don't recognize you."

"I haven't been in anything big, just a couple of low-budget movies." He noticed your nervous energy. "You okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, just... I've never done anything... real. It's always been fake sex."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Well, it's a first for both of us, then. It's a first-first for me, I've never done anything like this."

"Really?"

"Yep. Never even taken my shirt off on camera."

"And you're just jumping right in, huh?"

"Why not? If I'm gonna do it, I might as well go all in."

"Well, are you at least experienced?" you joked.

"Oh, I'm experienced. Yeah." You chuckled. "Also, I was told to tell you that they had me go ahead and put a condom on so it wouldn't disrupt the flow or anything. They said you were pretty adamant about it."

"Thank god. I really don't want to leave here today pregnant."

This made both of you laugh, but it was true. That was the most important thing to you when agreeing to do this movie.

"Alright, actors in positions," announced the director, who settled into his chair next to the camera.

Before you could get up, Eddie looked back at you. "Hey, I know we'll be recording, but don't let that stop you from telling me if I'm crossing any boundaries, alright?"

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Thank you."

"Of course."

The scene immediately started with the two of you standing at the edge of a bed, inches away from each other. So that's where you went, your calves touching the mattress.

You'd read over the script for this scene numerous times. There was a camera a few feet from the bed, and one strapped onto the ceiling above where you would be laying. Neither of you would speak, just moan.

You were getting more nervous by the second, the lack of space between you two making your heart pound.

"Hey," he whispered, making eye contact with you. "You still good?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I'm good." You got yourself into the acting mindset as they finalized the cameras. "Ready."

"Quiet on set," yelled the director. Everyone hushed, the silence making you realize how many eyes were on you. "Action!"

You reached up and slowly undid Eddie's tie, his eyes never leaving your face. Once it was on the floor, he pulled you in for a kiss. It was gentle yet deep, both of you taking in a deep breath. His hands gripped your sides, your palms flat against his chest.

He reached around you and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. He then effortlessly unhooked your bra and you pulled it off of yourself. So far this was exactly like some of the other scenes you'd filmed. It was always a little bit nerve-wracking to expose yourself on camera — how could it not be?

He pushed you down onto the bed, his knees on the edge between yours.

He wasn't supposed to kiss you as long as he did. It was only supposed to be a couple before he moved on, but he was going off script a bit. His hand cupped the breast visible to the camera, which was now a bit closer.

He began kissing down to your neck a bit, then trailing along your body. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, his tongue circling it. You couldn't help but tangle your fingers in his hair, knowing it would help the scene.

As he kissed down your body, he maintained eye contact with you, watching to make sure you were still comfortable with this. Once he was to your thighs, he knelt down next to the bed and pulled you by the legs closer to him.

He slowly pulled your underwear off, dropping them on top of your dress. He continued to leave kisses on your thighs, making a genuine and impatient whine escape your mouth.

The feeling of his tongue on your clit made you gasp, your hands immediately finding their way back to his hair. This was weird with cameras, and at first it made it hard for you to really get in the mood.

But he was good with his tongue. You were so used to fake moaning that the real ones that came out of you felt foreign. His hands on your thighs, keeping them spread, were also keeping your hips still.

Usually when you filmed cunnilingus scenes, they kept their mouth closed and just positioned their face between your legs. So it was a foreign feeling to actually be eaten out on camera.

He couldn't stop staring at you, you looked so beautiful. Your head thrown back, back arched, tits out and nipples hard, fingers pulling his hair.

He wasn't supposed to make you cum, the script didn't call for it. He was supposed to do this for about thirty seconds and move on to the actual sex. But he was told that if the scene lasted too long, they could just edit it down. So he decided before even meeting you that he would make sure you had at least one orgasm today.

And it didn't take you long to get there. The camera had moved now so that it was behind him and to the side, getting a shot of his back and your face simultaneously.

"Fuck," you whispered to yourself as you felt your orgasm approaching, and fast. You were worried about how you would look, actually cumming and being recorded. You were trying to remain as calm as you possibly could, but you'd never been eaten out like this.

You were much louder than you anticipated when you finally came, and Eddie had to hold you down to keep you in the shot. When he finally stopped, he was immediately back to kissing you. He was still fully clothed, so you pushed his jacket off of his shoulders.

Instead of unbuttoning his shirt, he just pulled it over his head. He had a beautiful body, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You reached down and helped remove his belt, but he took over a moment later.

Within a minute, he was completely nude, and you got a good view of what he was packing. You were told before the shoot that you'd be having unprotected sex, and as you were already on birth control, it wasn't that big of a deal to you. Or at least, it wasn't until you were finally here. Now it was sinking in that you were about to be creampied by a guy you just met less than five minutes ago.

He was already rock hard, the sounds that escaped your mouth having gotten him bricked up immediately. He loved giving oral. It was one of his favorite things in the world. If it was up to him, he would've kept going, gotten you completely out of your mind before fucking your brains out.

He positioned himself back at eye level with you, reaching down and lining himself up with your entrance.

"That okay?" he whispered into your neck as he pressed kisses to your skin. He wasn't supposed to say that, the script calling for no dialogue aside from the natural swears that would occur. But he'd already gone against it, and asking for consent was something he insisted on.

"Mm," you moaned simply, nodding as minimally as possible.

With zero hesitation, he pushed into you, and the gasp that filled the room was almost comical. It was such a perfect porno moan that you couldn't believe it was genuine, even though it came from you.

He stretched you out so much, so perfectly, you weren't sure you could handle much of this. It was almost too much, too good.

He engulfed your mouth into his, kissing you deeply as he immediately picked up his pace. The bed was already squeaking, and your chest was already red.

The camera was above your head now, recording from an angle that showed the top of your thighs and your head thrown back as Eddie began sucking hickeys onto the skin of your neck.

That was when the scene was supposed to end. It was the shortest one in the script, which was another reason they wanted to get it over with first. But when the director shouted "Cut!", neither of you could hear him over the animalistic moans you both were letting out.

In fact, he called it about three times. But you two were so immersed, and your moans were so loud in each other's ears that it was useless. After a moment and after all the equipment was put down, the entire crew left the room and just allowed you to finish.

Out of all the times you'd had sex before, you didn't expect the best to be a completely scripted one. Eddie wasn't lying when he said he was experienced, he knew how to hit every nook in cranny in you like it was the millionth time.

When he felt himself getting close, he reached down and began circling your clit with his thumb. In the movies he'd seen, they always came at the same time. That didn't happen much in real life, but he wanted to make it look cinematic because, to his knowledge, they were still filming.

You gasped at the sudden contact, not expecting it. Thirty seconds later, you were cumming in sync, moaning into each other's mouths. He kept it going as long as he could but eventually he had to stop. Both his and your legs were trembling, sweat beading on your upper lip.

He kissed you for a moment, thinking in his head how great that would look on camera.

But when you both looked over at where the crew was, they were gone. You were confused, wondering why they didn't film as much as possible.

"Oh my god," you said, looking back up at Eddie. "Did they yell cut?"

His eyes widened. "Did they?"

"Did you hear them at all?"

"No, I didn't. Did you?"

"No."

You couldn't help but giggle at the situation. "Holy fucking shit."

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck."

"That's kind of hilarious."

He pulled out of you, pulling the condom off before grabbing one of the robes from the crates behind the camera, tossing another one to you. He opened the door to the rest of the set and the crew's heads shot up to look at him.

"Did... you yell cut?" he asked the director.

"Yep. Three times. You guys were so into it we figured we'd just let you finish."

That was when you laughed even harder, your head fuzzy and body tired.

After everything was cleaned up and you were heading back to your trailers, you caught up with Eddie outside his.

"Sorry we didn't hear cut earlier," you apologized.

"I'm not." He smirked slyly, and you felt butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"Do you think you'd do something like this again? Real sex on a set?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. With the right person."

"Well, if I get another opportunity like this, you're the first person I'm recommending."

"God, please do." His voice was raspy now, seductive, sultry. Normally you didn't pay any mind to men who flirted with you. But something about actually fucking Eddie seemed to form some kind of bond, maybe just in your head.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a napkin, which had your phone number written on it. You leaned in close, wanting this to stay between the two of you.

"Well, if you ever want to do something without cameras, call me." You turned around to walk to your trailer, his eyes glued to your ass the whole time.

He swore he could get rock hard again right now if he wanted to. Something was different about you. You were one of the best fucks he'd ever had, and he intended on using that phone number sometime soon.

[arixella]

A Quiet Promise

╰┈➤ pairing: Zoro x fem! reader

a/n: kinda want to start doing characters with newborn babies, let me know if I should

summary: Zoro navigates the tender and unfamiliar territory of fatherhood as he spends a peaceful morning with you and your newborn son.

wc: 1.1k

contains: super fluff

The sun was beginning to set on the Thousand Sunny, casting a warm, golden glow over the deck. The ship rocked gently, the sound of the waves lapping against the hull providing a peaceful rhythm to the evening. Inside the cozy quarters, Zoro sat in a chair, looking like a man completely out of his element, and yet, there he was — holding their newborn son.

The baby, swaddled in a soft, light blue blanket, made tiny gurgling noises, eyes still too young to focus on much beyond the warmth of his mother and father. You sat next to Zoro, your back leaning against the edge of the wall, watching the two of them with a soft smile on your lips.

Zoro glanced down at the baby, his brows furrowing in concentration. It was as though the world’s greatest swordsman had no idea what to do with this tiny human, but he was trying. Trying his best for both of you.

“Are you sure he’s supposed to be this quiet?” Zoro muttered, lifting the baby up slightly so his head rested against his large chest. His arms were strong and steady, but there was a tenderness in the way he held the infant, as though he were holding something breakable. “He hasn’t cried at all.”

You laughed softly, pushing yourself off the wall to sit beside him, one hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It’s okay. Some babies are just calm, especially when they’re with their father.”

“Yeah?” Zoro asked, still unsure. “I thought they were supposed to cry a lot. Aren’t they supposed to be noisy?”

“They can be,” you said, smiling as you placed a hand on your son’s tiny foot, the little toes flexing slightly in response. “But he’s peaceful right now. Probably enjoying being held by you.”

Zoro looked at you, his face softening. There was something about this new role he had taken on, something that made him vulnerable in a way that was unfamiliar to him. But when he looked down at their son, the softness in his expression didn’t fade. It only deepened.

“Guess he gets that from you,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “Seems like he’s good at keeping calm.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “Are you implying that I’m calm?”

“More than me,” Zoro said, giving a crooked grin. “I’d have no idea what to do with him if you weren’t around.”

You laughed again, this time a little louder. It was true, though. Zoro was a warrior. A swordsman. A man who could take down foes with a single swing of his blade, but when it came to your son, he had a much softer, more delicate side. You watched him now, as he absentmindedly stroked the baby’s head with a large, calloused finger.

“You’re doing great,” you said softly, resting your hand on his. “He loves you, Zoro. You don’t need to worry.”

Zoro looked up at you, his gaze meeting yours. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, quickly replaced by a quiet resolve. "I just want to make sure I don't mess this up," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “You won’t. You’re already a great father.”

There was a brief silence between you two, filled only by the sounds of your son’s little breathing and the distant hum of the sea. Zoro’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before they dropped back down to the baby, his expression growing more serious.

“I’m gonna protect him. No matter what,” Zoro muttered, the promise clear in his voice.

“I know you will,” you replied, a small tear threatening to fall as you gazed at your two most important people. “I know you will.”

Zoro shifted in his seat, pulling you gently closer with his free arm, so that the three of you were nestled together, your son lying peacefully in his father’s arms. You leaned your head against Zoro’s shoulder, a comfortable silence settling between the three of you as the night fully embraced the ship.

Your son shifted slightly in Zoro’s arms, yawning softly, and Zoro’s expression softened even further. You could feel his heartbeat against you as he took in a deep breath, savoring the warmth of the moment.

“Hey,” Zoro whispered, his voice laced with a quiet affection. “What do you think his first word will be?”

You laughed quietly, lifting your head to look at him. “I think it’ll probably be ‘mama’.”

Zoro smirked, the old competitive gleam returning to his eye. “We’ll see about that.”

You grinned at him. “I’ll bet you a hundred berries that it’s ‘mama’.”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed playfully. “You’re on. But I’m pretty sure he’s going to say ‘papa’ first. He knows who the real tough guy is.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed again, your heart swelling with love for the man sitting beside you and the tiny life you both had created. No matter how much Zoro liked to pretend he wasn’t cut out for moments like this, he was already the best father your son could ask for.

And, deep down, Zoro knew it too.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and purple, you, Zoro, and your son sat there together, a family in the truest sense of the word. For the first time in a long while, everything felt exactly as it should be.

♡♡♡

[sinfulpanda16]

Family Christmas

Bakugou Katsuki x fem. reader x Eijiro Kirishima

Characters are aged up

You and your husbands were fortunate enough to have a day off from hero work for Christmas. It was going to be so much fun. Just the three of you. You, Katsuki, and Eijiro. Actually, two more people have been added to the family.

You have a beautiful family. The kids are asleep in their rooms, and you and your husbands are in the kitchen wrapping all their presents. "Tch. Who got Takumi more toy cars?!" he asks, a bit annoyed.

You giggle, "I did".

He scolds you, "Don't you remember what happened last time?! You idiots want history to repeat itself?!" he yells, no harm behind his words.

You're quick to hush him, still laughing a bit, "Katsuki, please. Not so loud."

Kirishima also laughs. One time your son, Takumi, left his toy cars on the living room floor and Bakugou hadn't seen them. He accidently stepped on one of them and lost his balance causing him to fall on the ground. Kirishima smiles, "Come on Kats, he didn't mean to. He was so sorry he couldn't help but tear up. Besides he's been good at picking up after himself ever since."

Bakugou huffs, "Whatever. I guess that brat could keep this gift." He recalls the time his son was crying for accidentally hurting him. He remembers thinking Takumi is very similar to you and Kirishima.

Both of your children are very similar to the three of you. Takumi looks like you but boy version. And your daughter, Nami, is an exact replica of you, but she has her father's eyes. Ruby red with all your other features. However, she has Katsuki's attitude, and your son can be just as loud as him too.

Nature or Nurture, hell if he knows. All he knows is that he loves both his children.

He continues wrapping all the presents for the kids. "You know, I never imagined I'd be here. Wrapping presents for my kids on Christmas Eve."

Kirishima chines in, "I know. I remember being a kid. Excited for Christmas morning to open my gifts." he smiles softly. "I have to admit, I like doing this for them."

You and Katsuki smile softly agreeing to that. "Yeah. I'm glad we can provide them with the best childhood" you say warmly writing "Nami" on the present you just wrapped.

It's true. When you were young you could only dream of having a loving family that made Christmas special. These last few years have been amazing with your husbands and your babies made it even more special. It warms your heart knowing they get to have the life you've always wanted. They get to enjoy Christmas the way you've always wanted to as a child.

"I'd say you're doing a good job at that love," Kiri says softly. You turn to look up at him and blush a bit.

"Aww. Thank you, Kiri." you tiptoe to kiss him on his cheek. "You're an amazing dad you know that" you praise. He blushes and smiles warmly, thanking you shyly.

You turn to Katsuki. He looks at the two of you and rolls his eyes. You tiptoe to kiss his cheek, "You're an amazing dad too Kats" you smile warmly.

He huffs, "Yeah Yeah I know that already" he looks down at you with a smirk, "You're a pretty cool mom (Y/n)".

After finishing wrapping all the gifts the three of you head to get ready for bed. You're in the middle tonight; you get cozy between your husbands' arms with your back against Bakugou. You three hold each other already eager for tomorrow.

You and your husbands were still asleep when the kids ran towards your bedroom. "Mommy! Daddies! Wake up!" your son yells as he jumps on the bed on top of Kiri and Bakugou.

Kirishima and Bakugou jolt awake when they feel Takumi pounce on them. You wake up too due to all the commotion. Bakugou and Kirishima groan. "It's too early-" Bakugou gets cut off by his youngest when she tugs on his arm. "Daddy! Santa came! He got us presents!" she cheers with her bright smile. She tugs on him again. "Let's go!"

Bakugou sighs and Kirishima chuckles softly. Kiri sits up and sits her on his lap, "Alright baby. We'll go right now. Just give us a few minutes." he says with a tired smile.

Both Takumi and Nami get excited and scream. Their cheers were so loud all three of you winced. You and Kiri chuckled and Bakugou groaned, "Oh but when it's time for school they wanna act all tired."

You chuckled and gave him his kiss good morning, "Come on love. It's Christmas, let's all enjoy it."

Bakugou sighs again and sits up to rub his read, "Fine" he yawns, "Come on then. The brats are waiting". He leans down to kiss you good morning and then Kirishima. You both let out a content sigh when he does. Bakugou gets up from the bed "Hurry up you extras. Or we'll get started without you" he says with a smirk.

"No!"

"No!"

You two freaked out at his threat but then smiled and got up from bed to get ready. When you finished you two give each other a good morning kiss and begin heading towards the living room with Katsuki.

The three of you were excited even if Katsuki hid it well. The three of you arrive at the living room where Takumi and Nami are already waiting. They see you guys and grow excited. They wait patiently for the cue. Bakugou stands in front of them, "Go ahead. Everything that has your name is yours" he says with a smirk causing the kids to go haywire. You and Kiri smile behind Katsuki with his arm around you. All three of you watch them happily.

Christmas was always important in your family and this year it was as fun as it had ever been since you started your family. You watch the way Bakugou and Kirishima bond with the kids. Bakugou smirking as he playfights with Nami. Kirishima and the way he's playing cars with Takumi in the Christmas air. You smile, happy to have another family Christmas.

[willowed-wisp]

Bestiee I'm in need of Kyle as a dad headcanons 😭 this man has me in a chokehold and I need that delusion daydream of mine to come true 🙏🙏

gaz as a dad [ kyle garrick ]

part two

- Kyle is a very diligent person, so when he meets you he makes things very clear with you. “I’m not gonna be around much and I’m not looking for anything serious…”

- He’s all about loyalty and honesty and having his own freedom

- But he soon realises after six months of seeing you, that he can do things his own way with you at his side, “Wanna be my girlfriend?”

- “I thought you’d never ask…” And you thought he never would, knowing how Kyle got in his own head sometimes.

- Kyle didn’t know if he wanted to be a dad- he knew he could live life his own way without them but worried that he’d be missing out if he didn’t have them

- He looked confident but is a very logistical person when planning was involved,

- Though he didn’t have much of a choice when he came home to your shared apartment, you sat at the kitchen table. “As gorgeous as ever…” He hummed to you, only faintly able to smile to him. “Hey… what’s wrong? I’ve got no bulletholes in me,” Briging you into a back hug, your hands only weak when holding him.

- You’d only been with him a short amount of time, meeting him through friends but you’d known him as long as you’d been hooking up and dating.

- “I’m pregnant,” his hold on you didn’t frail. You expected him to freak out then and there but you just heard him cry in your ear. “Kyle, you okay?”

- He moved beside you, your head in his hands before dragging you into a crushing kiss. Breathless, “Aren’t you freaked out?” Speaking to him with such concern, this wasn’t like him… not usually. He burst into laughter with the tears. “Who are you and what have you done with Kyle Garrick?”

- “I’m just… so ready to settle down…” Not prying into his work, you knew how stressful it was for him. “With you and our baby…”

- He’s so factual and intellectual that he’s reading up as much as he can, “Taken your folic acid today?” / “I read that in the third trimester you should drink raspberry leaf tea…”

- He’s good like that

- He is researching the best cribs to buy, what kind of decor is best for babies

- Kyle is so prepared that it gives you a headache, “You can relax, yknow…” Rubbing his tense shoulders, “We have six months left to plan all this… just relax baby…”

- HE DOESN’T RELAX

- IN THE SLIGHTEST

- He likes to be in control of situations because then he knows a loose possibility of what to expect

- Indulges your food cravings but was not ready for the boost in sex drive

- He was just so used to how things were before so when you jump him every day of the week… multiple times a day…

- He’s not complaining but he just didn’t expect it

- He has a bottle of water in the bathroom for when your morning sickness comes in.

- Holding your hair back every day before handing you that bottle of water, “Gotta keep up your hydration, babe…” You’ve never been so grateful to have Kyle Garrick as your baby daddy

- Especially at ultrasound appointments, he’s asking as many questions as possible and ignorant to the fact the technician was flirting with him the whole time, “Can we keep this professional, please?” He says to the woman, who does just that.

- Don’t know if Kyle is more a boy dad or girl dad… he’d treat them both the same and with STRONG morals

- You don’t have a gender reveal party- he’s not into that- more of a private ordeal with just the pair of you.

- A family member knew the gender and buys you a cake with coloured sponge.

- He doesn’t cry when he finds out you’re having a girl, he’s BAWLING

- But then he overthinks it, “Shit…”

- “Did you want a boy?”

- His head shook, “She’s gonna be gorgeous, guys are gonna chase after her… I’m never gonna get some peace…” You didn’t know whether he was joking…

- “We have a few years to figure that out…”

- “I’m getting her a badge that says, ‘My dad’s in the Special Forces’…”

- You just burst out laughing at him, “Christ, I’m glad I’m doing this with you…” And you were because Kyle Garrick was the gift that kept on giving

- Never lets you go out alone when your pregnant, he’s so protective

- He’s reaching for shit on the top shelf, no reaching for his lady

- Definitely proposes to you in the countryside during a candlelight dinner on a long weekend

- He’s so delicate with you that night, missionary and kissing you head to toe.

- Holding your hands- matching engagement rings against each other

- He doesn’t know what to do when you go into labour prematurely, he’s freaking out

- Doesn’t know whether to call Price or not… he’s panicking… you called for him to hold your hands so he stopped pacing…

- All anxiety cleared when the cries of your baby girl filtered through. That must have been the first time in Kyle Garrick’s life that’s he felt peace… unconditional love…

- Safe to say, the future boyfriends of your girl were having full background checks and going through SAS selection interrogation…

- He wasn’t going to tell you, you’d stop him. “Don’t even think about it, Kyle… it’s a waste of resources and you’ll have a heart attack…”

- Kyle soon discovers that theory is much different from putting it into practice… especially changing nappies.

- You giggle at him, “I can do it if you want…”

- “No. I’m a Sergeant, I can change a nappy…” He did, not neat or pristine but it would do the job.

- As he practiced, he became a nappy changing master.

- He’s actually adorable with your daughter- speaking in a mix of baby voice and then complex sentence the next minute

- He doesn’t mind if you have more kids, he’s looking to buy a house

- Don’t worry he has it covered- he’s got viewings set up…

- Kyle’s always got you covered as a parent and as a partner

- You just wonder if he’s ready for the announcement of baby number two when your little girl is 6 months

————

I hope I wrote Gaz okay? He’s new territory for me but he’s a fun character to write for. Thank you for reading xx

PART TWO

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | gaz m.list

[icarusredwings]

Howling

A sfw puppy Logan fic

pt 1 Bad boy

pt 2 Howling

pt 3 Good boy

Cw: Abandonment, Separation Anxiety, Anger, Throwing up, Feelings of Betrayal, Grounding, Self soothing, Happy ending. Cursing.

Hearing the door click, Logan brings his head up again, somberly coming to the window, watching as Wade left, taking Mary with him. And how here he was... Alone.... again.

A soft whine comes from his throat, putting a hand on the window, touching the figure of the man until he couldn't see him anymore.

The small whine turns into a whimper, and then a cry before morphing into a growl.

Where to begin? Oh, let's pretend we never met

So I can disappear a moment.

Hoping off the couch, he grumbles, huffing with a spit of spite. Glancing at the counter, his nose catches a whiff of the chicken. Snarling, he jumps up onto the counter, taking the bag between his teeth before throwing it on the floor.

I've been tryna swim with both my hands behind my back

My dear, I always feared the ocean.

Jumping down, he shakes his head, ripping the bag into shreds, popping open the lid of the chicken parm. Wade had told him not to eat it, but who cares. He was bad, right? And this was bad. If he wanted him to be bad, then he would be bad. He chose this. He left him here, abandoned him here. So why shouldn't he? Wade said he wasn't allowed to eat Puppin's food either, so fuck it, he'll eat his.

And somehow, this one word in my mouth

Was left unspoken.

Scarfing down the entire meal within only a minute, He grumbles, leaving the trash and mess here, licking his hands of the tomato sauce. Moving onto the bread, Logan devours the entire basket, struggling to swallow that last one. Gagging, his stomach was tight and still felt so empty, his chest, once warm, now cold. Tears fell from his eyes, a growl in his throat.

Breathing, he shifts to sit, chest heaving as he groans. He hasn't eaten this fast in so long.. the preasure in his throat made him shake his head, growling as if his body would obey. Gagging again, he has no choice but to puke up the bread, only half digested, if at all.

And I won't admit my parents split when I got sick

But I refuse to be a burden..

Whimpering, he wipes his mouth, lowering his head, leaving the kitchen to the livingroom. Glancing at the pink pet bed, he snarls, huffing as he jerked himself away. Entering the bed room, Logan can smell Wade. He can smell him so greatly in here. Jumping up on the freshly made bed, he sniffs at the folded clothes. The laundry soap hurt his nose. The cheap stuff was always too strong.

Shoving them off, he manages to find a pile that smelled just like him. Burrying his face into them, Logan wiped his tears on the clothes, nuzzling against them, scenting Wade's clothes to smell like him. Shifting around, he digs, burries, moves, packs, and hides in the linens.

And I said

"Is there something keeping me here for the minute, darling?

Burrowing under them all, he stays in this nest of smells, cotton and polyester keeping him warm, the artificial kind that one could try their best to replicate .. but it would never be the same. It would never live up to Wade's hot skin against his on rainy mornings. His warm smile and laugh that made his stomach feel like he just ate a harty homecooked meal.

Growling, he takes his pillow into his mouth, shaking his head a bit with more bark to his bite only to whine, pouting some as he lays his head down, the smell of him being too much to actually shred the pillow. If this pillow smelt like Wade.. and He hurt it.. that was like hurting Wade.

But he didn't want to hurt wade.. not at all. Letting out a big sigh, he holds the pillow close, whining softly as singleton tears decide to vacation to his cheeks. He can't help it. It frustrates him. He didn't want to cry. Bad boys were angry. Mean. Disobedient. But how was he supposed to be disobedient when he was so god damn loyal? How was he supposed to be mean when he was so fucking loved? And how was he suppsoed to feel angry and alone if Wade's stuffies were warm and in his den with him?

Did you find the key and what is the meaning of it? 'Cause honey, sometimes I feel this

emptiness, howling out.."

The deep pain of being abandoned in his stomach was something he was used too. The loneliness was commonplace. But the emptiness in his chest from lack of touch was something he would never get used too. He remembered when he was young. When the fur of his candid siblings would keep him warm even if it was snowing a blizzard out. Logan whimpers, remembering how he would call for them. How they would call for him, his mother wolf telling him to come back to the den. When he got lost from the pack and needed someone to lead him back..

You're not alone, the world is small

And I am sick of all the talk of finding purpose

The first one is small. Barley a noise. The second one holds for about 3 seconds. By the 4th one his head goes back, a more natural sound coming from him. It's low, it's loud. It's home.

He waited a few seconds between them, about 30 before doing it again, some higher pitched then others. Some with more vibration. Others straight out of a yellowstone documentary.

Logan doesn't understand why he doesn't answer him. Why he won't come to save him. Whimpering, he snuggles deeper into the den made of blankets, pillows, clothing, and stuffed animals. The howls get quieter. Less frequent. And he dreams.

Dreams of the sweet gentle touches he was now used to compared to the harsh whips across his back and cold chains around his neck. He was always alone. Traveling through the north like a lone wolf who was only ever a shadow. Trying to be barely noticed but always spotted. Always hated. Told to get out, scram, shoo. Always greeted with the cock of a shotgun.

But the click of Wade's pistol was far more welcoming. Far gentler. He didn't tell him to shoo. In fact, he wanted him close. He held him close. In his arms. Each and ever night. Like the tiny pup he once was.

Love comes and goes but the big black dog, he trails along

Am I the only one who knows him now?

He's reminded when he was part of a tribe. His own pack. He remembers feeling bad because he had ripped yet another blanket that they worked so hard on making for him. It's vivid in his mind, sitting close to him, defeated and ashamed. His hand came to his shoulder in such a kindness. A way that made not even the jumpiest of men calm.

He said, "A fight is going on inside me," he told the man, "A fight between two wolves."

"Wolves, huh?" He asks, quiet as he cletched his fists, unclenching them to try to loosen up the bone in his forearm.

"The Dark one is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The Light Wolf is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you…."

Logan stops, looking up at him with a skeptical brow. They had found him with the wolves, it was true, but how much could he possibly know about him? He always hated people like this.. that just knew.. and somehow, they brought him a great comfort. It meant he had to speak less. His claws retract into his skin.

"And inside of every other person on the face of this earth.”

The outside man ponders this for a moment and then asks, "....which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee smiled and simply said, "The one you feed".

His head tilts the other way, going quiet before speaking. "... You want me to feed both of them.. don't you?"

He smiles, nodding with a soft chuckle. "You fit well here, You should stay."

"No..I don't want to be a bother."

"You aren't a bother to us, wayiga.. We would let you know." The elderly man chuckles again.

Logan shakes his head while looking at his lap. He's already stayed here too long. "What does that mean?"

"Wolverine."

But he's scared. Terrified that Wade will meet that big black dog and decide he doesn't want an old mutt, but a young pup who obeyed. He was afraid that one day Wade would become fed up with him. Unable to handle that black dog's tantrums and teeth that bite the hand that fed him. The one that snarled and snapped.. afraid Wade much preferred the obedient pet that everyone so desperately wanted from him..

Either way.. he best savor this warm, comfortable bed while he still had the chance. Before Wade kicked him to the curb and a cardboard box became his home. How far were the woods from here? Miles of solidarity sounded nice right about now.. but he still wanted Wade's hugs. Early in the morning.. late at night.

He dreams about them, head tucked deep under the pile of warmth. Let's hope Wade wasn't angry with him when he returned.. let's hope Wade adored the big wolf inside of him and not just the pup who so desperately wanted to be held..

_____

"Wilson! Did you get another dog!?"

The man jumps, holding the bags and large dog bed over his shoulder "Uh..... noo..?"

"Then what is that!?" The nosey woman from down the hall points to his back.

"Ooohh! This? Nooo I just- they're for Mary! You know Mary right? My BLIND room mate's seeing eye dog?"

She crosses her arms, raising a brow. "Then why isn't she with her?"

Wade gives an offended look. "Whaat? Are you implying that service dogs don't get any downtime? Are you saying they should work 24/7?? How insensitive!! Ugh! Im SOO reporting this to the building manager!" He complains, making the woman flick her cigarette.

"Hmph... fine. But just so you know, your 'not new dog' has been howling since you left."

"He's been.." For a split second, Wade is confused. Howling...? Logan. The scarred man gasps loudly, his eyes brightening and smile widening across his cheeks ear to ear. "He has!?? Oh thats wonderful! Oi- but I still don't have another dog... don't snitch, bitch." He says, giving her the 'im watching you' gesture as she rolls her eyes, shutting her apartment door.

Honestly, he's not sure why he came in through the hallway instead of the back. He didn't think about nosey neighbors, obviously.

Coming to the door he struggles with the keys, rambling to himself with an excited giggle. "Wolvie? Loagie don't worry, baby I'm comin! Daddy's comin, Peanut!" He says, opening the door with a big smile, putting the stuff down on the couch, opening his arms expecting Logan to greet him only to be greeted with a mess.

"Logan! I bought you a- oh what did you do?" Again, a simple blink, and he got it. He gasps. "Oooh, my poor puppy! You got upset - Omg! Mary, don't eat that! I know you're gross princess, but I draw the line at eating daddy's vomit."

There was a soft, whimper of a howl.

"You hear that, honey? Come on. Let's help daddy. Say Ahwwooooo!"

Though mary's howl sounded more like a chihuahua version of "Arwooowoowoo!"

Another, fuller, more confident howl comes from the bedroom as Wade giggles, coming in with a big gasp, opening his arms again, ready to be jumped on.

"Hiii big boy! Are you comfy in your big bed?"

With an embaressed blush, Logan huffs, whining at him and burrying deeper into the pile, so much that his feet stick out the other side.

"Look at all this? You made a big mess, didn't you? And ate all Papa's chicken? Yeah? Oh, you, Naughty boy!" But it was playful. "Was it good? Tch, better have been for 15$..."

From the fearful and submissive licklipping coward, to a big whining oversized puppy, coming out of the den with a wiggle. Wade was magic like that.. the worst of shadows turned bright without a moments notice.

Yawning, Logan bows, streaching, a final show of respect and submission in hopes to be forgiven for all the naughty behavior. Besides.. he wasn't used to being in a house. Still, even after an entire year and a half, he still felt new here. At least this version of Logan did.

"Yeah? Oh, biiiiig streach. Just needed a nap, did ya? Yeah? Well- Fuck all that laundry I guess. Oh well. Clean enough." He places a hand on the bed next to Logan, testing the boundaries of closeness.

When Logan didn't try to bite his hand off and sat here with that guilty look on his face but such innocent eyes, he sat down. "So.. I saw you threw up.. are you feeling okay?" He asks, dropping the puppy talk, instead being serious.

Swallowing, logan shifts to back away, lowering his head, looking at him as if Wade was about to call him a bad boy again.

"I..." Wade thought having a feeling that perhaps leaving him here wasn't the best thing.. but he knew Logan would kill someone if they looked at him wrong at the pet shop. "Look... Logan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... well, actually, Im sorry for two things. One, I'm sorry for calling you bad. You're such a good boy. You were just.. frustrated. And that's probably why you ate all that food. Im assuming - from past experiences that you scarfed it down without chewing properly because you were mad at me. And im sorry for making you so upset that you threw up. An-and im sorry for lea-"

The look on Logan's face and the tilt of his head made Wade smile. It said 'I know. Now shut up and give me the stuff you bought me'

Laughing a bit, He shakes his head. "How are you so expressive??"

Logan tilts his head the other way, as if hearing 'Blahblahblah good boy blahblahblah'

He sighs. "No- don't look at me like that. Put those big eyes away. Jesus- you need contacts or something. How hasn't anyone tried to take them yet? Anyway- Im sorry.. for leaving you when you needed me. I just.. I guess I've never really knew how to handle stuff like this. I'm new to this, y'know? So.. I'll try harder. And if you howl, ill awnser. Promise." He puts his pinky out with a half smile.

Leaning forward, Logan sniffs the finger, licking it and then put it in his mouth, giving it a soft chew only to pull away, putting his hand, fingers curled in, on top of his hand with a proud smile. The type that said 'is this what you want? Am I a good boy?'

Laughing, Wade shakes his head. "You are just too cute. How could anyone not want you, hm? You're just precious. I might just die from it...Well, here lemme show you your new bed."

He gets up, starting to walk back to the couch, Logan sits, unsure if he should follow.

"And Daddy bought you a bone and your own bowl, so no more taking puppins food, okay? After this, ill clean up and feed you your own special food, mkay? What are you feeling? Cereal for dinner? Since you ate what I was planning to have..."

Logan frowns, becoming a bit nervous, watching him from the edge of the bed, acting like he was too afraid to jump off. Why was Wade going to the door? Was he kicking him out? What was all those words? He said he was a good boy, so why was he kicking him out of the pack? Was he that bad?

Whimpering loudly, he flattens himself on the bed, dead weighting. If Wade wanted to take him from his pack, he'd have to drag him.

"Oh, Logan come're sweetie! Come on. Comere!" He pats his legs and instantly Logan perks up. Oh man.. he wanted to come. He wanted to follow Wade until the end of the world. But he was scared.. what if he had saw his dark wolf?

Throwing his head back, he howls, a very whiney, pup like call.

In the livingroom, Wade giggles, glancing at puppin's. "I think you have competition for the cutest puppy in the universe, Princess. Comin' Peanut!" He calls, Howling loudly back as he came. "What's wrong, pup?"

Very gently, he crouches down, hands on the bed, letting Logan sniff his face before rolling over, showing him he was sorry, softly licking his forehead. "Awwhooowhoo.."

"Awwhooo!" Wade says, hand coming to his cheek. "Don't worry baby..I'm not mad at you....but you should probably stop howling. The bitch across the hall is gonna call the building manager."

Smiling widely, Logan howls again, louder and more realistic, confident. "Arroooowh!"

"Hey I just- aw what the hell. Arroooo!"

The giggles that followed and the nuzzling of noses were everything that Logan had ever wanted.

Wade had seen his dark wolf. And he loved him just as much as the light furred pup under all that tough skin.

He fed both wolves.

Even if one's teeth were sharper than the others.

[tortureddarkstar]

✩ SANTA DOESN'T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO

WELL MAYBE THIS CHRISTMASTIME, YOU'LL FINALLY REALISE / / THAT I COULD BE THE ONE TO GIVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU WANT

LUKE CASTELLAN X READER

MINORS DNI.

✩ BACK TO… NOURA’S CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

summary: luke nurses you through a break up, the best way he knows how.

warnings: break ups, luke is a stalker- it’s not explicitly said but it is heavily implied

inspired by: santa doesn’t know you like i do- sabrina carpenter

he’d been waiting to get you alone all day. sure, exploiting his friends sadness was wrong, but the line between ‘wrong’ and ‘right’ for luke castellan had blurred months ago.

this time, your sadness was rooted in your boyfriend had breaking up with you, and despite being immovably sad about it, you carried on being the caring camp counsellor you always were. those were both two things luke admired about you- your emotional intelligence and your intense desire to care for people.

he wanted nothing more but to be there for you, to hold you, console you. kiss all your tears away. but luke didn’t officially know about your breakup.

he didn’t officially know about a lot of things, but he was always there for you, you thought. he was there through the good and bad, he knew how to make you laugh. it was like he was a godsend. he knew about things before you even told him. he was such a good friend.

when he finally caught you alone, it had begun raining and you’d been sitting under a tree by the pond.

“hey.” he spoke, soft enough not to startle you, but firm enough to tell you he was there. tonight wasn’t a lurker night, he knew that you needed him.

“hey, luke.” you smiled. happy that the one person you wanted had found you.

he decided to take a damp seat next to you, uncaring of the soggy dirt beneath. “chris again?” he asked, craning his neck to look into your eyes. chris was his brother, but luke knew how he could be, especially when it came to you.

you replied with a soft hum as a few tears slipped down your cheek. you weren’t surprised that luke already knew, chris must have told him.

of course, luke had found out the minute it happened- not from chris. but you needn’t know about that.

luke knew that you didn’t want to talk about it, so he just held you, bodies touching under the tree, the mistletoe in his pocket being saved for another day, one where you weren’t crying the night away.

he kept his arms around you until you fell asleep, praying silently that this christmas time would be the one where you realised that he could be the one to give you everything you wanted.

until then, he’d just have to stay lurking, watching, waiting, until he was sure that he knew you better than santa.

a/n: i hate this if you couldn’t tell. i really wanted to make this longer and develop it more, but i didn’t want to make it a whole thing so.. anyway i probably will expand on it in future but for now it is this.

also i know it’s late😭😭😭 again i had no motivation to write it

banner creds: @estrelinha-s

[sweet-s0rr0w]

day 20 of @hprecfest - a fic with fanart

Heart Like Neon by @lqtraintracks - E, 41k, 2020, with art by @bluebutter-art

Summary: Bored of being The Chosen One, Harry discovers he rather likes sex and becomes a professional. He’s good at it, and part of why is that he can read people. Not minds, not Legilimens, but their whole self, and he can give them what they don’t even know they want. Enter Draco fucking Malfoy, enigma to everyone, including himself. Harry can’t help but want to break into him, to figure him out. And Draco, thinking he’ll fuck Potter on a lark, has no idea what he’s in for.

Excerpt:

He’s not sure if he expected some form of resistance, but that’s not what he gets. Potter blooms against him, his lips parting readily, hot breath exhaled on an aroused sigh. He kisses Draco back, instantly deep and hot and sexual. He lets Draco press him back hard, runs his hands up under Draco’s jumper and onto his bare back. Draco hears a thunk and realises he’s dropped the wine in order to grip Potter by the fabulous arse and tug him closer. Potter breathes a seductive little laugh against Draco’s lips. But there’s no artifice in it. It’s only seductive because it’s so fucking genuine. Draco shuts him up, and Potter hums contentedly into the kiss.

The lift dings their floor, and even then they’re slow to step away. It takes a moment to do anything other than look at Potter’s flushed face, at the swell of his lower lip, the heavy dilation of his eyes. It’s Potter who reaches out quickly to stop the doors from closing on them once more.

But before they step out, Draco has to give voice to this nagging feeling inside. “That thing you do,” he says. “Are you doing it right now?”

Potter looks at him steadily. “No, I’m not.”

Draco nods. “Good. I don’t want you to. Not tonight.”

“I won’t,” Potter says, hand still staying the lift doors, hair dishevelled by Draco’s hand, pulse beating hard beneath his jaw.

Draco snatches up the wine bottle, and they step out into the hall.

This is one of my absolute favourite LQT fics. I always tell the story of the day it posted, when I took my kids on a playdate, and claimed, er, tummy issues, so I could lock myself in the bathroom and finish it! Ah, fandom life. This fic just really hits the spot, every time. It's so well paced, I always think, and Drarry are a brilliant match; Harry really self-assured, Draco faking confidence in a slightly arrogant way, but underneath anxious and uncertain. The sex is obviously super hot, and I love the way each sex scene feels like it really has a purpose in driving the story and the relationship forwards. The ending of this fic is cinematic and romantic, illustrated to chefskiss perfection by one of my favourite artists (and people), @bluebutter-art. Big rec, for both creators!

If you read it, and especially if you love it, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3

day 1 - first fic you remember reading

day 2 - a fic rated G

day 3 - a fic not on ao3

day 4 - a comfort fic

day 5 - a romantic fic

day 6 - a fic for a ship you don’t normally read

day 7 - the best of your OTP

day 8 - a fic that was recced to you

day 9 - a WIP

day 10 - a fest/event fic

day 11 - an underrated fic

day 12 - a fic from your favourite author

day 13 - a rare pair

day 14 - a fic rated T

day 15 - a fic over 50k

day 16 - a podfic

day 17 - a fic that makes you cry

day 18 - a fic that makes you laugh

day 19 - fanart

[gensideas]

CASE CLOSED: LOVE ON TRIAL.

✎summary Y/N Rodriguez discovers her boyfriend Matt’s infidelity and redirects her focus to law school and her career. With resilience and support, she triumphs, passes the bar, and finds a healthier, more respectful connection, turning heartbreak into empowerment.

✎features cheater!bf Matt x Law!student reader.

I sat alone in the dim light of my desk lamp, drowning in case briefs and mock trial notes. The weight of my law school aspirations pressed heavily on my shoulders. The bar exam loomed, suffocating my nights with endless study sessions.

My phone buzzed. It was Matt. “Busy night, babe. Work event. See you tomorrow?”

My chest tightened, but I pushed the feeling down. “Sure. Good luck,” I texted back, my fingers trembling slightly. Lately, he had been distant, and even his words felt perfunctory. But there was no time to dwell on it; my future demanded all my attention.

Across town, Matt mingled at a swanky networking event, laughing a little too hard at Erica’s jokes. The red-haired marketing executive exuded confidence, something Matt found intoxicating. When Erica brushed his arm, a flicker of guilt surged through him—but not enough to stop

Weeks passed, and the cracks in our relationship deepened. I couldn’t ignore the growing distance. Matt’s once-frequent texts were now sparse, and his excuses for canceled plans piled up like unread notifications.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised one night after bailing on dinner. His voice was rushed, almost mechanical.

I sighed, clutching the phone tighter. “It’s fine. I have plenty to do anyway.”

But it wasn’t fine. Late at night, when my textbooks blurred into meaningless lines, I’d stare at my phone, willing it to buzz with something—anything—to reassure me.

My best friend Sofia wasn’t convinced. “He’s acting shady, Y/N. I don’t trust him.”

I shook my head. “We’re both just busy.”

“Busy isn’t the same as distant,” Sofia muttered, her concern deepening.

One afternoon, Sofia’s voice on the phone was sharp. “I saw Matt downtown. With someone else.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“Here,” Sofia said, sending a photo. The image hit me like a gut punch: Matt and Erica, laughing together in a way that once belonged to me.

That night, I confronted him. “Who is she?” My voice cracked, betraying the storm of emotions I’d fought to contain.

Matt faltered. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Don’t insult me,” I snapped, tears streaming down my face. “I’ve sacrificed everything for us, Matt. I deserved honesty.”

His apologies came too late, his words hollow. The betrayal was a knife that cut deep, shattering the fragile balance I had clung to.

The days after the breakup were a blur of tears and sleepless nights. My chest felt perpetually heavy, and every corner of my apartment held echoes of Matt. The pain was relentless, threatening to drown me.

Sofia’s support became my lifeline. “Cry it out,” Sofia urged. “But don’t let him destroy you. You’re stronger than this.”

I threw myself into my studies, using my heartbreak as fuel. The ache in my chest became a driving force, propelling me through tort law and late-night mock trials. Still, there were nights when I crumbled, staring at my empty bed and wondering why I wasn’t enough.

Matt’s voicemails went unanswered. I couldn’t bear to hear his voice, the same voice that had whispered promises he couldn’t keep. My journal became my sanctuary, a place to pour out the grief I hid from the world.

Months later, I passed the bar exam. The moment should have been euphoric, but it felt bittersweet. I had reached my goal, but the scars Matt left still lingered.

At my celebratory dinner, Sofia raised a toast. “To Y/N, who refused to let anyone dim her light.”

I smiled, but my chest tightened. The triumph felt hollow, as if part of me was still piecing itself back together.

At a networking event, I met Daniel, a fellow attorney with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. “I’ve heard about you,” he said. “You’re incredible.”

I wanted to believe him, but doubt lingered. My trust had been broken, and I wasn’t sure I could give my heart again.

As I walked into my new office, my diploma in hand, I stared at the empty walls. I had achieved so much, but the weight of my heartbreak still clung to me. The future was mine, but it felt fragile, like a vase I was afraid to drop.

That evening, I opened my journal, flipping back to the entries I had written during my darkest days. Each page was a testament to the pain I had endured—and survived. Slowly, I began to write again, this time not just about heartbreak, but about hope. I penned down my dreams, my aspirations, and the person I was determined to become.

Days turned into weeks, and the office walls began to fill with memories of my victories, both big and small. I took on cases that challenged me, and with every win, I felt a piece of myself returning.

Daniel’s kindness remained steady, and though I kept him at arm’s length, I found myself opening up little by little. One evening, as we walked out of court, he said, “You’re stronger than you know.” For the first time, I believed him.

One year later, I stood on the steps of the courthouse after winning my first major case. Sofia was there, cheering me on, her pride evident. As I looked around, I realized something important: I had built a life that was entirely mine. It wasn’t perfect, but it was authentic.

Matt was now a distant memory, a lesson I had learned the hard way. I had found strength in my struggles, and though the scars remained, they were a part of me—a reminder of how far I had come. As I stepped into the future, I carried with me the unshakable knowledge that I was enough, and I always would be.

© gensideas 2024

[niallerspayno]

The Line - Part 1

Masterlist

You and Zayn are inseparable childhood best friends, until one night when you make a pact to be each other’s rebound whenever one of you has a break up. Things get complicated when you start dating Louis, Zayn’s bandmate, and the line between friends and more begins to blur.

Tags: Zayn x childhood friend!reader, Louis x reader, friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, some smut

Part 2 | Part 3

…

You’ve known Zayn for as long as you’ve known yourself. Your childhoods were spent as neighbors, running between each other’s houses as if the fences weren’t even there. Your mums always said you two were a pair of troublemakers, joined at the hip and scheming from the moment you could talk.

It never mattered that Zayn was quieter than you, or that you sometimes pulled him into your whirlwind of ideas when he clearly wanted to stay on the sidelines. He always followed anyway, his steady presence grounding you when things inevitably spiraled out of control. He’s always been like that—a constant in your life, someone you’ve never had to question.

By the time you were teenagers, he knew everything about you. Your favorite songs, what you hated on your sandwiches, the kinds of movies that made you cry. And you knew him just as well—how he hummed when he was thinking, how he’d hide behind a cigarette when he was nervous, how his laugh could fill a room when he let it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t notice how good he looked as you both grew older. You did. How could you not? His sharp jawline, his dark eyes, the tattoos he got when you were still debating whether or not to dye your hair—it all caught your attention, made your stomach twist in ways it hadn’t before.

But Zayn is your best friend, and the thought of risking that—of losing him—has always kept you in check. It’s easier this way, you tell yourself, to push the feelings down, to ignore the way your heart beats faster when he throws an arm over your shoulders or leans in close to tell you a secret.

You’re the one he comes to when things fall apart, and he’s the one who can always make you laugh when you feel like crying. That’s enough. It has to be.

Because if it’s not, you don’t know what you’d do.

…

The pact is made on a vulnerable night after your first break up. You’re curled up on the couch in your living room, your head resting on Zayn’s shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his breathing grounding you. The tears on your cheeks have dried, but the ache in your chest remains, raw and heavy. Zayn’s arm is wrapped around you, his thumb brushing soft, absentminded circles on your shoulder. He hasn’t said much since he arrived, just held you, his quiet presence doing what words couldn’t.

“He was such an idiot,” you mumble, your voice hoarse from crying.

Zayn hums in agreement, the sound low and steady. “The biggest idiot.”

You glance up at him, catching the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. It makes your own lips twitch in response, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re supposed to say something encouraging, you know. Like, ‘you’ll find someone better.’”

His chuckle is soft, warm. “You don’t need someone better. You’ve got me.”

The words settle between you like a weight, light enough to brush off but heavy enough to make your chest tighten. You snort, trying to defuse the strange pull in his voice. “Yeah, every girl’s dream—a best mate as her backup plan.”

Zayn shifts, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. There’s no teasing in his expression now, just a steady sincerity that makes your pulse flutter. “What’s wrong with that?”

You blink at him, caught completely off guard. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in that familiar, crooked smile that always feels like home. “Not really. I mean… think about it. You trust me, yeah? I trust you. If the world keeps throwing us idiots, why not help each other out? No strings. Just… comfort. When we need it.”

Your breath catches, your mind racing to figure out if he’s serious. His gaze is steady, unwavering, but there’s a softness there too—an unspoken understanding that only the two of you could share. “You mean, like… a rebound?”

“Exactly.” His lips curve slightly, but his voice is quiet, careful. “One night, no strings. No expectations, no weirdness after. Just you and me.”

It’s reckless. A hundred ways it could go wrong flash through your mind. But there’s also something heartbreakingly simple in it—something about the way Zayn looks at you, like he’s offering a lifeline without asking for anything in return.

“That’s ridiculous,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Maybe.” His thumb brushes against your shoulder again, soothing. “But at least it’s real. Better than wasting time on people who don’t deserve you. We know what we’re getting—no lies, no games. Just us.”

Your heart twists, torn between the comfort of his presence and the terrifying vulnerability of what he’s suggesting. “Zayn…”

He leans closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours. His voice drops, soft but resolute. “It’s just you and me. Always has been, yeah? This doesn’t change that.”

The conviction in his tone makes something inside you give way. You’ve never doubted him before—why should now be any different?

“Okay,” you whisper, the word trembling in the air. “But only if we have rules.”

His lips twitch into a small grin, though his eyes remain serious. “Of course. Lay them on me.”

“One night only,” you say, your voice firmer this time. “No repeats. No feelings. And we never, ever talk about it after.”

Zayn nods slowly, taking each word in. “One night. No repeats. No feelings. Got it.”

“Promise me,” you urge, your voice cracking slightly.

“I promise.” His voice is steady, his hand warm against your skin. “Nothing will ever change between us.”

You meet Zayn's eyes, searching for any flicker of hesitation. There's none-just warmth, steady and unshaken, like he's holding the weight of the moment for both of you. He reaches out, his hand brushing your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is soft, reverent, as if he's memorizing this moment, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"You're sure?" he murmurs, his voice low, careful.

"I'm sure," you whisper, the words barely audible, but he hears them.

Zayn leans in slowly, giving you every chance to stop him, but you don't. His lips meet yours, warm and soft, and the kiss is tender at first— a question, a promise. His hand moves to the back of your neck, drawing you closer, and the kiss deepens, the weight of his love and care pouring into every movement.

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging gently as if asking for permission. He pulls back just enough to help you, lifting the fabric over his head and letting it fall to the floor. You take a moment to drink him in, the planes of his chest, the tattoos you've seen a hundred times but never like this.

He smiles softly, a little self-conscious under your gaze. "What?"

"Nothing," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "You're just... you."

His expression softens, and he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "And you're you. That's all I've ever needed."

You pull him back to you, your lips meeting his again as his hands begin to explore. He's slow, deliberate, tracing the lines of your body like he's committing them to memory. His touch leaves a trail of warmth in its wake, and you can't help the way your body responds, leaning into him, needing more.

Clothes are discarded piece by piece, each movement careful, unhurried. Zayn watches you with an intensity that makes your heart race, his gaze never leaving yours as he guides you back onto the couch. The weight of him above you is comforting, grounding, and you feel a strange mix of vulnerability and safety in the way he holds you.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he says softly, his forehead resting against yours.

You shake your head, your hands tangling in his hair. "I don't want. you to stop."

He kisses you again, deeper this time, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that feels instinctive, like you've done this a thousand times before. The heat between you builds steadily, every touch, every movement drawing you closer together.

Zayn is careful, attentive, his hands and lips mapping every inch of your skin, making you feel seen, cherished. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if he's afraid to rush and break the fragile connection between you.

When he finally enters you, it's with a care that makes your breath catch. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and emotion that leaves you clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. He pauses, giving you time to adjust, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispers your name like a prayer.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely audible.

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, though you're not sure why. "Yeah. I'm okay."

He begins to move, his rhythm slow and steady, and the world seems to fall away. It's just the two of you, tangled together, your breaths and heartbeats aligning. The intimacy is overwhelming, not just physical but emotional, a connection so deep it feels like it's always been there, waiting for this moment.

Every touch, every movement feels deliberate, like he's trying to show you without words how much you mean to him. You lose yourself in the rhythm, the heat building between you until it's almost unbearable.

"Zayn," you whisper, your voice breaking as the tension inside you peaks.

He holds you tighter, his movements becoming more deliberate, and together you reach the edge, falling into it like you've done this a hundred times before. The release is intense, shattering, and you cling to him, his name tumbling from your lips like a lifeline.

Afterward, he stays close, his body still pressed against yours, his forehead resting against your shoulder. The room is silent except for the sound of your breaths, slowly evening out.

"You okay?" he asks again, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

You nod, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Yeah. Are you?"

He lifts his head to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. "I am."

There's an unspoken understanding between you, a fragile peace that feels like it could shatter at any moment. But for now, you hold onto it, letting yourself rest in the quiet comfort of Zayn's arms.

…

A few years later you smooth the hem of your dress for the third time, the nerves in your stomach twisting tighter with every second. Zayn’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember, but his world has changed so much over the past few years. The small-town boy you grew up with is now part of the biggest band in the world, touring stadiums and gracing magazine covers.

Still, he’s never changed with you. He calls when he can, texts when he can’t, and always makes time to see you when he’s back home. Today, though, feels different. Today, you’re stepping into his world.

The door to the hotel suite opens, and Zayn’s familiar grin immediately puts you at ease. “There she is,” he says, pulling you into a hug. His cologne surrounds you, warm and familiar, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you again.

“Big deal now, huh?” you tease, stepping back and taking in the plush room behind him. “Fancy hotels, famous friends.”

“Shut up,” he says, laughing. “You know it’s still me. Come on, the guys are dying to meet you.”

He leads you inside, his hand resting lightly on your back, and your nerves spike again. The room is buzzing with energy—laughter, chatter, the faint hum of music playing in the background.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Zayn announces, his voice cutting through the noise. “My best mate. Play nice.”

You barely have time to process the faces turning your way before a whirlwind of introductions begins. Harry, all dimples and charm, greets you first, followed by Liam’s warm handshake and Niall’s cheeky grin.

And then there’s Louis.

His blue eyes meet yours, and for a second, the world tilts. He’s leaning casually against the arm of a couch, his smile crooked, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to your heart.

“Louis,” he says simply, extending his hand.

You take it, your fingers brushing his. “Hi,” you manage, your voice softer than you’d like.

Zayn’s voice cuts through the moment, his tone light but pointed. “Alright, Lou, don’t scare her off.”

Louis smirks, not breaking eye contact. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The rest of the introductions blur together after that, but you can’t shake the feeling of Louis’ eyes on you, watching, assessing. It’s unsettling and thrilling all at once.

Zayn steers you to the couch, making room for you beside him. The conversation flows easily, stories and jokes flying across the room, but you’re hyper-aware of Louis, who’s taken the seat across from you. Every so often, your eyes meet, and his grin deepens, like he’s caught you in some unspoken game.

“Alright,” Niall announces after a while, clapping his hands together. “Who’s up for food? I’m starving.”

As the group begins to stir, Louis leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on you. “You coming out with us?”

The question feels loaded, though you’re not sure why. You glance at Zayn, who shrugs. “Your call.”

“Yeah,” you say, surprised at your own boldness. “I’d like that.”

Louis’ smile widens, and something about it makes your pulse race.

As the group files out of the suite, Zayn falls into step beside you, his arm slung casually around your shoulders. “So?” he asks under his breath. “What do you think?”

You glance back, catching Louis looking at you again. “They seem great,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral.

Zayn hums, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Just remember—he’s trouble.”

The warning is playful, but the edge in Zayn’s voice lingers, making you wonder if he knows just how drawn to Louis you already feel.

…

The restaurant buzzes with the kind of energy that fills the room with a comforting hum. Laughter spills from your table, the clink of glasses punctuating each conversation. You’re nestled between Zayn and Harry, but your focus is steadily being stolen by Louis, sitting across from you, who seems to have this effortless way of drawing your attention.

“So,” Louis begins, leaning forward slightly, his elbows on the table, eyes locked on yours, “Zayn’s told us loads about you.”

“Loads,” Harry adds with a teasing grin. “Like how you’re the only one who can put up with him.”

“Shut it,” Zayn mutters, nudging Harry, but there’s a hint of a blush creeping up his neck.

Louis smirks, enjoying himself far too much. “What I’m wondering is how someone like you”—he pauses for effect, his eyes sparkling—“ended up wasting time on someone like him.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “She’s not wasting time.”

“I would be,” you tease, laughing lightly. “Honestly, I don’t even know how I put up with him.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Exactly. You’ve got a bit of that troublemaker look about you.”

“Troublemaker?” You tilt your head, the challenge in your gaze matching his. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”

He leans closer, his voice dropping slightly. “Oh, I think I’ve got it right.”

Zayn shifts next to you, clearing his throat. You catch the way his hand rests on the back of your chair, the motion subtle but protective. “Let’s not make this about me,” he interjects. “She’s not a troublemaker.”

“Oh, she definitely is,” Niall chimes in, looking at you with a knowing grin. “She’s always been drawn to the bad boys, hasn’t she?”

There’s a flicker of something in your chest at Niall’s words, but you laugh it off. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Louis’ eyes narrow slightly, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “You can try to deny it all you want, but you’ve definitely got that dangerous energy about you. Bet you’ve never been able to resist a bit of trouble.”

You bite your lip, the heat from his gaze making your pulse quicken. “Maybe… I’ve been known to fall for the wrong type, now and then.” You try to make light of it, but it feels a little too close to the truth.

Zayn’s jaw tightens, and you glance at him, catching the subtle shift in his expression. But before you can say anything, Louis speaks again, his voice low and teasing. “Well, I like a challenge. What about you, Zayn? You think she’s too much trouble for me?”

Zayn doesn’t immediately respond, his gaze unwavering. “Just keep it friendly, Lou.”

“Of course, mate,” Louis replies smoothly, his grin never faltering. “Just having some fun.”

As the night continues, you notice how Louis keeps his attention on you. He asks questions, not the usual casual ones, but deeper ones—about your childhood, your life outside of the chaos. It makes you feel something unfamiliar.

“Okay, maybe you’re not as much trouble as I thought,” Louis says with a laugh, his eyes softening. “But still, I’m pretty sure you keep life interesting.”

You smile, shaking your head. “I just get caught up in things sometimes. But trouble’s never far off, is it?”

Louis’ grin widens, but there’s something more sincere about it now. “I think it’s my favorite kind of fun.”

The conversation shifts again, but now it’s like the dynamic has subtly changed. There’s an undeniable pull between you and Louis, a chemistry that’s only been intensifying as the night goes on.

As the group starts to filter out, Liam gives you a knowing look. “Watch yourself,” he says in a teasing tone. “Looks like Louis has his eyes on you.”

You roll your eyes. “I can handle myself.”

Zayn, however, is unusually quiet. His gaze is sharp, flicking between you and Louis, his hand still resting on the back of your chair.

Louis glances over to Zayn, his expression almost too casual. “I’m just making conversation, mate. Relax.”

But Zayn’s voice is low when he responds. “Just keep it respectful.”

Louis doesn’t flinch, his smile not fading in the slightest. “Always.”

The tension in the air is thick now, and when the others start heading out, you’re left alone with Louis. He steps closer, his smile turning more earnest.

“Can I see you again?” Louis asks, his voice quieter, more sincere than it’s been all night.

You glance at Zayn, who hasn’t moved, his presence like a silent challenge. But you can’t deny the pull toward Louis.

“Sure,” you say, your heart thudding in your chest. “I’d like that.”

Louis’ grin spreads, pure mischief and warmth. “Good. I’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

Zayn watches the exchange with a quiet intensity, and as you head toward the door, you feel the weight of his gaze on you, even as Louis’ presence lingers like a promise.

“Are you really going out with him?” Zayn asks softly, his tone almost too careful, his voice low enough that Louis can’t hear.

“Why not?” you reply lightly, but inside, the tension coils tighter.

Zayn doesn’t respond, his lips pressed into a thin line. You can’t help but wonder if this will be another one of those times when the attraction to the bad boy and the allure of danger come with consequences.

…

Part 2

[thefantasticdonut]

Movie night with your boyfriend

Author's note: This is a pretty short one shot because it really is an extension of a headcanon so don't expect too much text. I will also upload it in both Spanish and English and I will attach both versions once published because much of the content of Love and Deepspace is usually in English. An apology if it is not the best translation but my native language is not English, also later I will make edits to correct errors.🏃🏻‍♀️

Link the Spanish Version: https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasticdonut/770414701403373568/noche-de-pel%C3%ADculas-con-tu-novio

I hope you like it.🧁

……..✨………

Xavier is someone who can become a little shy when it comes to showing affection, it's not that he doesn't want it, in fact the opposite, but he doesn't know exactly how to ask you for pampering.

That afternoon both had agreed to watch a marathon of their favorite series, they arranged all the cushions on the sofa bed in the living room and the small table in the room was filled with packets of fried foods and junk food. During the marathon you recharged on his shoulder watching television, Xavier fought against his shyness while the desire to hug you against him slowly consumed him.

"Can I hug you?" Xavier asked, looking at you with eyes that almost scratched the plea, illuminated by the soft light of the TV before you, you could notice how his cheeks were slightly pink. You had never seen him blushing before, you were about to make him notice as a way to annoy him a little but before those pleading eyes you took pity on him and you didn't.

"Of course." You mentioned with a smile opening your arms in an invitation for me to hug you. Xavier came closer and hugged you, you could feel how he recharged his cheeks against your shoulder while hugging you against him. You instinctively stroked her hair that you now noticed was as soft as you imagined, soon your hands caressed her back creating a relaxing pattern on her spine, you could feel the tense muscles of her back starting to relax little by little.

Xavier raised his face showing that puppy face that almost made you cry brightly every time you saw her, it was clear that this was his way of asking you for pampering and attention without having to say it explicitly, with a smile on your lips you rolled your eyes before taking her face in your hands starting to distribute kisses all over her face. He seemed so happy to receive pampering that you could swear that you felt him purr, noticing how you stared at him so much Xavier hid his face in your embarrassed chest.

"Don't look at me like that..." I mention while hugging you trying to hide his face deeper in your chest as if that would protect him from your affectionate gaze.

"Look at you like?" - You laughed at his shy behavior, to which Xavier squeezed you harder and you could hear him murmur - "Look at me like that with those beautiful eyes..." - You felt how your face began to heat up with shame, Xavier finally raised his face to look at you and although the blush remained on his cheeks now when he saw you in the same state he smiled with confidence. Where was your shy boyfriend? That was the question that lit up your cloudy mind when Xavier stood on top of you cornering you against the armchair looking at you almost as if he was about to eat you.

"Now you're not so brave anymore, are you?" You wanted to tell him something but you didn't know exactly what, it was as if your mind had stopped working out of nowhere. At that moment when he saw you speechless Xavier approached to kiss you in a sweet way, you imagined that most likely they would not finish watching the movie because they became too "affectionate" but to your surprise after the kiss he sat next to you again hugging you.

"Ou... What bad luck, we missed the best part."- He said pretending to be disappointed at what you sighed while resting your head on his shoulder to continue watching television.

You still annoy him from time to time with what happened on that occasion earning embarrassed looks from him and attempts to divert the conversation.

[ssentimentals]

hihi love!! i’m so obsessed w your work 😭😭 you just do such a good job writing ajdhjshdhw 🥺🩷🩷

could i request hurt prompt 35 w woozi pls? a happy ending would be nice but it doesn’t have to be!! tysm love🥹🩷

- 🫧

hihi babie!! omg this is so nice?? thank you so much for being this kind!! hopefully you will like your request 💜

hurt prompt: 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

'i feel like i should be happy and excited for the festive season but i just can't.' you mutter, adjusting your earphones. 'it's just been so shitty at work lately, you know? i don't have it in me to actually feel anything.'

your best friend lets you let it all out. she lets you go on and on about the work, your rant ending only when you come closer to your house. you also wanted to discuss jihoon with her, but that is going to wait for another time then. hanging you up, you sigh, slowing your stride. everything's been shitty lately not only at work; your relationship with jihoon started to crack as well. it's not very obvious, but the breach was formed and you feel like you both are just drifting further and further apart each day. coming home used to be the best part of your day, but now it's ad dreadful as going to work and it's just- sad. sadder than that is only your complete lack of any desire to do anything about it.

'welcome home,' jihoon greets, when you come in. he notices slight frown at your forehead and cautiously asks: 'is everything okay?'

'mhm.' you try to smile, but it comes off more as a grimace. 'how are you? have you already eaten? if yes i can just-'

'no,' jihoon interrupts. 'i waited for you.'

you blink. that is... new. you both didn't wait for each other last two months. your heart skips a beat at this, small flicker of hope reignites in your chest. this time you smile for real: 'oh, thank you. can you heat it up then? warm food will make me very happy now.'

jihoon smiles. 'i thought coffee makes you happy?'

'not right now. 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

you quickly change and come back to the kitchen right at the time of jihoon setting up the table. you both work in silence; you feel tongue-tied, not knowing what to say and how to ask simple things. when it became so awkward to just be with jihoon? you eat in silence too, or more like you both push your food around the plate, not looking up at each other. it's incredibly tense and you're surprised that jihoon is the one who snaps first with a humourless chuckle: 'this is not working, is it?'

you can argue, of course. you can remind him that it's not working because of him. you can start fighting again. instead, you agree. 'yeah, it's.. not.'

jihoon nods. he's staring at his plate intently like leftover meatballs have answers to his question. when he looks up, his gaze is filled with hesitance and hope: 'do you want it? to work?'. he licks his lips, quickly adding: 'because i do. i just- past few months were hard. i sucked, i know. but like, i- i want this. to work. do you?'

crying with meatballs in your mouth is really not the best thing you can do, but you can't stop tears from falling down. swallowing without chewing and choking on the food, you quickly down your glass of water and let out sincere: 'i do. i'm sorry, i sucked too.'

jihoon nods. he looks like he wants to laugh at your red face from choking, but he wisely holds himself back. 'okay. then,' he takes a deep breath, 'we will finish this now and go to bed and talk about it.'

you nod. 'we can come up for something to get us into holiday mood?' you suggest hesitantly.

jihoon brightens up at this. 'yeah, sounds good.'

you both smile at each other and hope inside your chest flickers stronger than before. jihoon reaches out across the table and takes your hand in his. flicker of hope turns into a burning fire.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[doudouneverte]

Shapeshifter and The Captain

a/n: a little update of this universe...

*not my GIFs*

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x daughter!Reader; Carol Danvers x Romanoff!reader; Nick Furry x Romanoff!reader (platonic)

Summary: your first encounter with Captain Marvel

Type: fluff

Warning: none

word count: 2251

Natasha didn't really know why but you loved Furry. He's like a grumpy grandpa, but he always gives you a lot of gifts every time he comes to see you and your mom.

Natasha thought first that it was because you spent a lot of time with him when you were very little and she had to go on a mission. But it's not really his fault; you didn't really like when Natasha left, and the only time you stopped crying was when Maria was rocking you or when Furry took responsibility for you.

'Took responsibility'—that was how the other called it when Furry had to keep you with him in his office while your mom was trying to save the world. For Furry, at first it was just some babysitting. Well, it only lasted two days before he developed a soft spot for you.

Since then he became your grumpy grandpa.

That's how you talked about him at school when your classmates asked you about your relatives.

Furry was a grandpa for you while Maria became (and more quickly) your auntie.

You really like Maria. She was always there when your mom was away on a mission. And she didn't hesitate to break some rules Natasha instaurate when you grew up. But what was more funny with auntie Maria was that when Natasha couldn't be there, she would take you home for sleepovers.

That's the best thing about auntie Maria. During the sleepovers, you would both do a lot of things. Sometimes you cooked together; other nights she would buy something on her way home, and you would spend the night watching movies and playing

Unfortunately, she couldn't always stay with you because sometimes Grandpa Furry would also give her a mission far away from home.

During the rare moments when they both went on missions with your mom and uncle Clint, you were left with other SHIELD agents. Some were cool and funny, but none of them could match Maria or Furry.

Then your mama joined the Avengers. When Furry came home to announce her, he told you that it was a group of superheroes and they would save the world. It was exciting to hear that at first, but then you realized that would mean your mom would have to leave more often too.

Today was one of these days. It was a weekday, and there was nothing much to do. Almost everyone was on a mission, which meant that Furry was the one who picked you up from high school.

"You know, I thought you would send someone to pick me up." You said to him while you entered the car.

"Why? Are you ashamed of your grumpy grandpa?" He joked, and that made you chuckle.

"At least you're not Alexei. He would drive an old car and would yell my name as if I could miss him in this crowd of high schoolers." You replied.

"Right, your mama has some strange parents." He laughed a little bit before starting the car.

"Where are we going?" You asked when you noticed that he didn't seem to drive back to the tower.

"Your mama suggested that, like their coming back in a few hours, we should use this time to relax, and also I could keep an eye on you." He replied.

"I mean, you don't have a lot of eye to put on me, so I guess I will take that as an excuse."

He was flabbergasted and opened his mouth several times without any sound. "How dare you?" You laughed, and he gently hit your shoulder. "I didn't know you were so bold at your age."

"Mama said it all the time." You defended yourself.

"Oh, she did? I don't know what I was expecting from Romanoff. Now get out of the car; we're here." You exited the car and looked around you a little confused.

"What are we doing in the forest?" You asked.

"I have something to show you." He stood next to you and pointed to the sky, making you a little more confused.

You didn't have enough time to ask what he wanted to show you before a huge ray of light, that looked like UFO lights from old movies, blinded you.

Even if you didn't see anything, you could feel your feet leaving the ground, and by fear you immediately clung to Furry.

"Now you can open your eyes." Furry told you, and when you did, you were shocked to see a lot of people dressed like scientists walking back and forth in front of you.

"Hello Mr. Furry, uh, we didn't expect to see you here today." A woman greeted him when she noticed him. This comment made almost anyone stop for a few seconds just to greet him. "Oh, and who is she?" The same scientist asked.

"This is Y/n Romanoff, the daughter of Natasha Romonoff." The only mention of your mother's name made everyone stop again. The woman in front of you seemed to be petrified.

"Wait, since when does the Black Widow have a daughter?" You heard someone whisper to his colleague.

You just waved a little shyly by the reaction your name caused. A lot of scientists looked at you like they were expecting something, but fortunately for you, Furry decided to send them back to work.

Furry was walking somewhere, so you decided to follow him before realizing something important. "Wait, is it the Earth? Are we in space?" You asked him very excitedly.

"Oh yeah. We're in one of the most secret and protected bases in the whole. It's also the SWORDS HQ." He replied. Before leading in a room.

"Wait, the SWORD? And what about the SHIELD?"

"See the SWORD like the SHIELD but for space." He told you, which made you more excited.

"Wait, is that why you let Maria lead the SHIELD recently? You're leading a f–big spatial station."

"Well, it's more than a spatial station, but yeah, we can say that."

"That's absolutely incredible. Does that mean that now the Avengers will go to space?"

"If the earth needs them here, then yeah. But that's not why I bring you here." He picked a box from under his office and gave it to you.

You were a little suspicious about it but decided to take a look, and what a surprise. "Wait, is that real?" You took the little brown kitten out of the box. "He's so cute."

"I'm happy that you like him. Goose had a lot of them recently, and I know that your birthday is soon, so take it as an early birthday present."

You put the kitten back in the box before giving Furry a big hug. "Oh, thank you very much."

"It's on me, don't worry. Now what if you try to find him a name?"

You looked at the kitten, and his little brown eyes looked at you back. "Kazna (казна). Yeah, that's a great name for him."

"Treasure, huh? That's a great name."

"I know. I hope Liho will love him too."

"Well, I think it's time to go back on Earth. Your mom should probably be back now."

You said your goodbye at a more joyful time when they saw you with Kazna on your arms before leaving the ship.

Back on earth, Furry drove you back home, and like he said, your mom was already there.

"Mom, look what Grandpa Furry gave me. He said it's a present for my birthday." You were so excited that it was impossible for Natasha to match your smile.

"He's so cute; what's his name?'' Your mama asked you.

"Kazna. Now where is Liho? I want to show her Kazna.

"She should be somewhere in your bedroom." The redhead told you before you left them.

"Thank you again for staying with her and for this present." Natasha said.

"Oh, it's nothing. Now I have to go, but I expect your report of the mission for tomorrow." Furry said before leaving.

~~~~

A few hours later you were still trying to make Liho like Kazna a little, but she seemed to not really like him. She immediately ran away after she sniffed him. But after running after the older cat everywhere, you decided to give up.

You let Kazna follow you in the kitchen where Natasha was making dinner.

"Wait, you're cooking, and nothing is burning; it's a miracle." You joked, which made her give a stern look.

"Haha, very funny. You should try to see if we still have some food for the kitten instead of critiquing my cooking skills. Natasha replied.

You searched in every drawer but didn't seem to find something for Kazna. You were about to give up until you heard a cat hissing. Natasha was observing Liho, ready to defend against Kazna, which made her chuckle.

"Why Liho seems afraid of—" she couldn't finish her sentence before she saw some tentacles coming out of the kitten's mouth and stealing the wooden spoon she had. "Chto eto za khren'?(What the f*** is that?)"

Hearing the fear in your mom's voice, you turned around to catch the end of what was happening.

"What the hell? Did he just eat a wooden spoon? Kazna, let throw it out; it's not good for you."

Well, a wooden spoon should be good for a kitten, but it didn't seem to be an ordinary kitty.

The other car in the room already ran away, and honestly, if you weren't so flabbergasted by what you saw, you would be laughing, but it wasn't the right moment for that.

Natasha immediately ran to take her phone and call Furry. You were still in the kitchen looking at the little kitty in front of you while your mom was yelling on the phone.

The der woman came back a few minutes later and grabbed him before putting him in a corner of the living room.

"Mama, what's happening?" You were still confused about the previous event.

"Furry gave you a flerken as a present gift. This is not a little kitty Y/n, this thing is an ALIEN."

You stood there a minute not knowing what to say. What, an alien? Your little kitty?

Fortunately for Natasha, someone knocked on the door a few seconds later. She let you a moment to answer the door. You stayed there keeping an eye on him while questioning if you were dreaming.

During your trance you didn't hear the guest coming in the room.

"Oh, it's him?" You heard someone ask. When you turned around, you were faced with a blonde woman and an orange cat.

"Y/n, this is Carol. Carol, this is my daughter Y/n." Your mom introduced you to each other.

"Hi, Y/n." Carol proposed your hand, and you shook it. "So you're the new owner of this little kitty, right?"

"Actually, Danvers, I think you should take your little...thing with you and tell Furry that I'm going to pierce his eye if he does something like that again." Your mom threatened, which surprisingly made the blonde woman chuckle.

"Don't worry, Romanoff, I don't think a little kitty can harm your daughter." Carol Danvers replied.

"I saw this thing stealing a wooden spoon from my hand and eating it. How am I supposed to not worry?" Natasha replied very pissed off.

"You're not funny." Carol said before approaching the little kitty. "Now come here, little boy; I think we have to bring you back to Furry." The blonde woman tried to catch him but ran away from her and hid behind your legs.

The orange cat who was with Carol came to you but immediately stopped when Liho hissed at her.

"Oh, it seems that your cat already likes this little kitty." Carol told Natasha, who was completely shocked by what she was seeing.

You got on your knees and gently picked up Kazna while Liho was still protecting you from her mom.

"Oh, I see. I don't think it's a good thing to separate them." Carol said to your mom.

"What do you mean? I'm not letting this thing stay at my place." Natasha replied.

"Well, even if you don't like this idea, it's not like your daughter is willing to let me take him back, and even your cat isn't letting Goose approach."

The spy wanted to say something, but she stopped when you called her. "Mom, can we keep him, please?" You were looking at her with those puppy eyes that she was very weak against.

Her eyes were switching between your face and the little alien on your arms. She finally groaned in defeat, "Yeah, okay." You jumped from excitement and hugged tightly.

"Okay, that's a great choice. Now I have to go, but I'll send your mom every piece of information you need to know to raise this little thing." Carol said.

You followed to the door. She gave you a smile before Goose jumped on her shoulder. And then out of nowhere she began to glow and start to fly.

"Whoa." Was the only thing that left your mouth after seeing that. "Cool." You whispered.

"She's not that cool. I mean, I see almost everyone flying at my job." Natasha commented back before heading back to the living room.

"Wait, are you jealous, Mom?" You asked while you were closing the door.

"Absolutely not." She said before leaving for the kitchen.

"Yeah, absolutely jealous." You whispered to Kazna.

"I heard you, little miss!" She yelled from the kitchen.